Dura and Mixxax, with a scared Philas still cradling Adda's fragile head, slid Adda's cocoon carefully into the pig-car. Mixxax climbed in after it and set to work fixing it in place at the rear of the cabin with lengths of rope. Even now, Dura could hear from outside the car, Adda continued to curse his savior.

Dura smiled at Philas, tired. "Old devil."

Philas did not respond. Her eyes, as she stared at the car, were wide... in fact, Dura slowly realized, her fear now was the strongest emotion the woman had shown since the death of Esk.

Dura reached out and took Philas's hand. It trembled against her palm, like a small animal. "Philas," she said carefully. "I need your help."

Philas turned her face, long, grief-lined, toward Dura.

Dura went on, "I need to return to the Human Beings. To organize another hunt... You see that, don't you? But someone has to go with Adda, in the car, to this — Parz City."

Philas almost spat the word. "No."

"Philas, you must. I..."

"Farr. Send him."

Dura stared at the woman's hard, empty-eyed expression; anger and fear radiated out, shocking her. "Farr's just a kid. You can't be serious, Philas."

"Not me." Philas shook her head stiffly, the muscles of her neck stiff with rage. "I'm not getting in that thing, to be taken away. No. I'd rather die."

And Dura, despairing, realized that the widow meant it. She tried for some while to persuade Philas, but there was no chink in the younger woman's resolution.

"All right, Philas." Problems revolved in her head: the tribe, Farr... Her brother would have to come with her, in the car, of course. Adda had been correct in intuiting that Dura would never be able to relax if Farr were out of her sight for long. She said to Philas, "Here is what you must do." She squeezed the woman's hand, hard. "Go back to the Human Beings. Tell them what has happened. That we are safe, and that we're going to get help for Adda. And we'll return if we can."

Philas, her transfixing terror abating, nodded carefully.

"They must hunt again. Tell them that, Philas; try to make them understand. Despite what's befallen us. Otherwise they'll starve. Do you understand? You must tell them all this, Philas, and make them hear."

"I will. I'm sorry, Dura."

Dura felt an impulse to embrace the woman then; but Philas held herself away. The two women hovered in the Air, unspeaking, awkward, for a few heartbeats.

Dura turned away from Philas to face the door of the car. It was dark in there, like a mouth.

Terror spurted in her, sudden and unexpected. She fought to move forward, to keep from shivering.