“Splendid. But I want to know something before we go.”

“What?”

“Why are you helping me?”

“Oh, for the love of heaven, you know why.”

“No, I don’t.”

He stared at me soberly for a long moment, then said, “I care for you! I don’t care what body you’re in. It’s true. But to be perfectly honest, this ghastly Body Thief, as you call him, frightens me. Yes, frightens me to the marrow of my bones.

“He’s a fool, and he always brings about his own ruin, that’s true. But this time I think you’re right. He’s not at all eager to be apprehended, if in fact he ever was. He’s planning on a long run of success, and he may tire of the QE2 very soon. That’s why we must act. Now pick up this suitcase. I nearly killed myself hauling it up those stairs.”

I obeyed.

But I was softened and saddened by his words of feeling, and plunged into a series of fragmentary images of all the little things we might have done in the large soft bed in the other room.

And what if the Body Thief had jumped ship already? Or been destroyed this very morning—after Marius had looked upon me with such disdain?

“Then we’ll go on to Rio,” said David, leading the way to the gate. “We’ll be in time for the carnival. Nice vacation for us both.”

“I’ll die if I have to live that long!” I said, taking the lead down the stairs. “Trouble with you is you’ve gotten used to being human because you’ve done it for so damned long.”

“I was used to it by the time I was two years old,” he said dryly.

“I don’t believe you. I’ve watched two-year-old humans with interest for centuries. They’re miserable. They rush about, fall down, and scream almost constantly. They hate being human! They know already that it’s some sort of dirty trick.”

He laughed to himself but didn’t answer me. He wouldn’t look at me either.

The cab was already waiting for us when we reached the front door.

CHAPTER TWENTY

THE plane ride would have been another absolute nightmare, had I not been so tired that I slept. A full twenty-four hours had passed since my last dreamy rest in Gretchen’s arms, and indeed I fell so deep into sleep now that when David roused me for the change of planes in Puerto Rico, I scarce knew where we were or what we were doing, and for an odd moment, it felt entirely normal to be lugging about this huge heavy body in a state of confusion and thoughtless obedience to David’s commands.

We did not go outside the terminal for this transfer of planes. And when at last we did land in the small airport in Grenada, I was surprised by the close and delicious Caribbean warmth and the brilliant twilight sky.

All the world seemed changed by the soft balmy embracing breezes which greeted us. I was glad we had raided the Canal Street shop in New Orleans, for the heavy tweed clothes felt all wrong. As the cab bounced along the narrow uneven road, carrying us to our beachfront hotel, I was transfixed by the lush forest around us, the big red hibiscus blooming beyond little fences, the graceful coconut palms bending over the tiny tumbledown hillside houses, and eager to see, not with this dim frustrating mortal night vision, but in the magical light of the morning sun.