"I probably will. Stancil knows this guy. But I can't go before we finish the dig."

Besand gave him a narrow-eyed look. "Bo, I ought to make you clean up before I go. Looks like Hell puked here."

Bomanz was not a fastidious worker. For a hundred feet around his pit the earth was littered with bones, useless scraps of old gear, and miscellaneous trash. A gruesome sight. Bomanz did not notice.

"Why bother? It'll be overgrown in a year. Besides, I don't want to make Men fu work any harder than he has to."

"You're all heart, Bo."

"I work at it."

"See you around."

"All right." And Bomanz tried to puzzle out what he had done wrong, what Besand had come for and not found. He shrugged, snuggled into the grass, closed his eyes.

The woman beckoned. Never had the dream been so clear. And never so successful. He went to her and took her hand, and she led him along a cool green tree-lined path. Thin shafts of sunlight stabbed through the foliage. Golden dust danced in the beams. She spoke, but he could not decipher her words. He did not mind. He was content.

Gold became silver. Silver became a great blunt blade stabbing a nighttime sky, obscuring the weaker stars. The comet came down, came down… and a great female face opened upon him. It was shouting. Shouting angrily. And he could not hear…

The comet vanished. A full moon rode the diamond-studded sky. A great shadow crossed the stars, obscuring the Milky Way. A head, Bomanz realized. A head of darkness. A wolf's head, snapping at the moon… Then it was gone. He was with the woman again, walking that forest path, tripping over sunbeams. She was promising him something…

He wakened. Jasmine was shaking him. "Bo! You're dreaming again. Wake up."

"I'm all right," he mumbled. "It wasn't that bad."

"You've got to stop eating so many onions. A man your age, and with an ulcer."

Bomanz sat up, patted his paunch. The ulcer had not bothered him lately. Maybe he had too much else on his mind. He swung his feet to the floor and stared into the darkness.

"What are you doing?"

"Thinking about going out to see Stance."

"You need your rest."

"Bull. Old as I am? Old people don't need to rest. Can't afford to. Don't have the time left to waste." He felt for his boots.

Jasmine muttered something typical. He ignored her. He had that down to a fine art. She added, "Take care out there."

"Eh?"

"Be careful. I don't feel comfortable now that Besand is gone."

"He only left this morning."

"Yes, but…"

Bomanz left the house muttering about superstitious old women who could not stand change.

He took a random roundabout route, occasionally pausing to watch the comet. It was spectacular. A great mane of glory. He wondered if his dream had been trying to tell him something. A shadow devouring the moon. Not solid enough, he decided.