“Why won’t you answer me? At least tell me where we’re going!” Tirad asks with a raised voice.

“We are going to Avij! Perhaps my father is back and you can ask him yourself!” she replies. Tirad is annoyed by her answer. They were supposed to go to Atlan and get away from the Oxan ships. He objects saying that it’s dangerous to go there, Avij might hand him over to the Saviour authorities.

“The Avij people don’t care about such matters… Don’t care about the Saviour Ship or Oxan and the burnt refugees… They know me. I will tell them you’re my husband. They won’t ask any further questions. Don’t worry! Even if they have received the warrant fliers, they will be looking for a boat with three passengers and we are only two now! You don’t look like a disciple anymore and they are not smart enough to figure it out!” she answers.

“What about your mother? Isn’t she waiting for you in Atlan?” he asks.

“The rain season will start soon. I can’t find Atlan’s route so easily. We might get lost on the way. It’s better to get to Avij before the storms start. We can be there within five days but Atlan is two weeks away! I can’t handle this boat in the storms, neither can you!” She answers avoiding her mother in her reply. She obviously doesn’t want to talk about Asin. Maybe she is mad at her for putting her into so much trouble and she had left her on purpose on the Oxan docks, trying to get away from her; maybe she is ashamed of having lost Narivan; or perhaps both. Tirad doesn’t want to annoy her about her mother any further. He needs to know more about her father and repeats his questions again. Dalia turns off the engine. She seems frustrated and crossed with Tirad. She points to the grey clouds that cover the dusk sky and says it may rain any time. She gets up and anchors the boat and turns on the lights. Tirad follows her every move. He has never seen her like this, so frantic and upset. Dalia walks towards the boat’s small deck. She is probably going for a swim. Tirad knows her routines after a week of being with her. She usually takes a swim after sailing, eats and sleeps afterwards and gets up before dawn, starting her day swimming in the water. He loves to watch her swim and enjoys looking at her smooth movement in the waves. But not now, he needs to stop her and make her talk. He takes her hand but she won’t turn to him, avoiding the conversation.

“It’s going to rain! You’ll get wet… Go into the cabin and I’ll come in shortly,” she says to Tirad. A lightning lights up the sky, suturing the clouds to the waves. Dalia takes the sign as a proof of her word and asks Tirad to leave her alone. But Tirad is worried for her, swimming in this weather. Dalia says there are no strong winds yet and no high waves. She turns to the boat gunwale but Tirad stops her, turning her face towards him, taking her into his arms. He kisses Dalia’s forehead. The first raindrops – signs of the end of the dry season – moist his face and Dalia’s hairless scalp. Tirad licks every drop that falls on to her smooth face and then the ones that fall on her neck, arms and bosom. Dalia gives in to his kisses and embraces him as he goes further down, beneath her belly. Tirad doesn’t want to be interrupted and won’t allow her to drag him into the water. He wants to do it on the boat this time, his more familiar realm. As they roll panting on the wooden planks, the sky lights up with more thunders. They feel a banging on the boat. It is not from their own movements, it is not the waves either. Tirad hears a sound… A familiar song that he had heard the last time they made love… The same stretched squeal that goes away as soon as they finish.