There will be no dancing, Regina thought stupidly, no more dancing. And when she thought of the growing mass in her belly she felt panic rise. “How will we live, Carta?”

“I don’t know!” Carta yelled, and Regina saw her own fear.

There was a fresh roar as another great section of building collapsed. From the streets outside the courtyard there came yells, screams, and a strange, twisted laughter.

“Time is running out. Go, child!”

Regina ran to her room. She dragged out the largest bag she thought she could carry, and scooped into it clothes, her perfumes, her pins, her jewelry, everything she could grab in those few frantic heartbeats.

It was only at the very last moment that she thought of the matres. She unfolded a tunic, carefully wrapped the little stone goddesses, and tucked them into the bag. They were small, but they made the bag unaccountably heavier. She hoisted the bag onto her shoulder and ran out into the courtyard.

Soon all of them had gathered, Carausias, Carta, Marina, and Severus, all laden with bags and bundles of blanket. By now the glow of the fire was bright as day, and the billowing smoke made it hard to breathe.

Regina thought she saw moisture in Carausias’s rheumy eyes. But he turned away from his house. “Enough. Let’s go.”

Half running, stumbling over the debris in the road, the four of them joined a ragged line of refugees who streamed out of the burning town through the northern gate and into the cold country beyond. Away from the town there were no lights, and the night was overcast. Soon they were fleeing into pitch darkness.

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Despite all the tension with Gina, I wanted to trace Uncle Lou. I stayed on in Florida a few more days, through the weekend.

A day after that unsatisfactory conversation with my sister I got an unexpected call. It was Michael, asking me if I wanted to come over to watch the space shuttle launch.

“Sure. I mean, if that’s okay with your mom. You’d better put her on . . .”

“Whatever,” said Gina.

So I drove over. The launch was scheduled for eight P.M.

“I didn’t know a launch was due,” I said. “Do they show it on TV?”

Michael said, “On NASA TV, yes. But you can see it from the porch.”

I felt a foolish prickle of wonder. “You can see a spaceship take off from your back door? . . .” I’d been to Florida many times, but that had never occurred to me.

The boy grinned. “Sure. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Gina said, “Don’t go sitting in the damp. And don’t stay out too long if it’s delayed, and you get cold—”

“We won’t,” I said. “Come on, kid.” I stood up and let Michael lead me by the hand, out through the darkened hall to the back door.