Soon he could make out the bridge anchor site, now surrounded by fallen miles of rope. There was patient Orange running in little agitated circles, and a bearded man standing there hands on hips, shouting something -- Damen, it must be -- and now Damen was running towards the point he would hit, a mile or so from the anchor.

The ground blurred towards him. He closed his eyes and tried to hang like a doll, soft and boneless.

The earth was frozen and impossibly hard. It seemed to slam upwards and carry him into the sky, sweeping up the wreckage of his balloon.

Damen carried Teal to his teepee and dumped him onto a pallet. Erwal ran to them and stroked Teal's face.

Overwhelmed with guilt Teal tried to speak -- but could only groan as broken things in his chest moved against each other.

Damen's bearded face was a mask of contempt. "Why? You useless bloody fool, why?"

Something bubbled in Teal's throat. "I... I was trying to fix..."

Damen's face twisted, and he lashed the back of his hand upwards into his brother's chin. Teal's back arched. Erwal tugged at Damen's arm.

Damen turned away. He walked with Erwal to the teepee's open entrance, speaking softly. He cupped her cheek in his massive hand... and then ducked out of the teepee. Erwal tied up the flap behind him.

"Erwal... I..."

"Don't talk." Her voice was harsh with crying. She bathed his face.

He closed his eyes.

When he woke it was night. His grandmother was watching over him, her face a wrinkled mask of reassurance in the alcohol lamp's smoky light.

"How are you?"

Teal probed, wincing, at his ribs. "Still here. Where's Damen?"

Allel rested a birdlike hand on his shoulder. "Not here. Take it easy." She laughed softly. "What a pair. You, the hopeless dreamer... just like I was at your age. And Damen reminds me of my mother. A hard-headed, practical, obstinate -- so-and-so."

The old woman's quaint Home accent was like balm to Teal. He struggled to sit up; Allel arranged the blanket of soft leather over Teal's bound-up ribs. "You're not too badly hurt," she said. "Just a bit flattened. Your wife's left you some broth: boiled-up mummy-cow meat buds. See? Come on, let me feed you."

"Thanks..."

Allel pulled a stone knife from her belt. She'd owned that knife all Teal's life; Teal knew it was one of the few remembrances Allel had brought with her on her last journey from her home world. Now she used the blunt edge of the knife to ladle broth into Teal's cracked mouth.

"She worries about you, you know. Erwal."

Teal nodded ruefully through the food.

"Not good for her in her condition." Allel's voice was as dry as a rustle of leaves.

"I know. But I had to go, you know, grandmother. I had to try--"