“Why can’t we just give Nnnnnn back the heartmirror?” I asked, trying to fight down the lump in my throat.

“If we do that it will mark us as unworthy trading partners. Jacob, we have to follow through on this. It is a matter of honor for Nnnnnn and his people.”

“So you want me to give Ralph to this guy just because he thinks I’m an adult and I got caught in some weird ritual that I didn’t even know was going on? Forget it!”

I had overplayed my hand.

“If you had read the information I gave you, you would have been well aware of the custom,” Dad snapped back. “Even ignoring that, you knew you were supposed to keep Ralph in your room. If you had done as I asked, none of this would have happened!”

He had me. I decided the best tactic was to ignore that fact and move on.

“Well, they can just go back to the nameless place they came from,” I said defiantly. “I’m not giving Ralph to Nnnnnn. For all I know the guy just wants to eat him!”

Ralph whined and snuggled closer, and I felt a twinge of guilt. No one is sure just how much human language the little guys can understand. I hoped I hadn’t scared him.

“Jacob, listen to me. Forging a good relationship with Nnnnnn and his group is—well, it could be a matter of life and death. The implications for Earth are overwhelming, and we simply can’t afford a diplomatic incident right now. I’m sorry, but I have to insist . . .”

I knew he meant it.

I also knew that I was not going to give Ralph to some weirdo from a nameless planet.

Which meant I also knew what I was going to do.

I remembered what Fifka had said about the important choices, that they had to do with the mind and the heart.

My mind and my heart were both telling me the same thing right now. I didn’t like what they were saying, but when I thought about it, it wasn’t a choice at all. Running away was my only option.

The trees were singing their night song as I slipped into the forest. The sky was darker now because the full moon had set, leaving only the two partial moons.

A buttersnake slithered around the base of one of the trees and stared at me in astonishment. (It wasn’t really a snake, of course—that’s just what Dad and I call them. They’re bright yellow and can spread themselves out so flat they look like melted butter. They can go from flat to round in half a second when they are startled or angry. I tried not to make this one angry.)

Ralph J. Bear clung to my neck, looking around with bright eyes and whimpering once or twice when shadows moved too close to us.