He’d coaxed an unwilling Rachael to leave the ship only by the need to conceal their relationship from the Federation for a little longer. She’d agreed with a flattering reluctance, extracting promises he’d find hard to keep. Fortunately, he knew these were her way of punishing him for being right. Dael’s gentle healing was at work. His grandmother had used Rachael’s intoxication the first night to enter her mind and tease free the linkage of certain memories, an exorcism of their destructive power, to liberate Rachael’s natural recuperative powers. It was no instant cure. Rachael would never consciously recognize the change, but now she could heal herself. Dael had been pleased. He’d felt her secret smile when she’d left him to carry a drunken Rachael back to the compound last night. “You can look after her now.” Her tone had hovered close to outright laughter. “She’ll be more of a handful than you expect.” Having lived with Peter for so long, Dael’s humor was sometimes a little offbeat.
