When she didn't come back, we looked in the shadows of all the bushes. She wasn't anywhere. In fact, while we peered into the night for anything moving, the plain grew so still it was almost frightening—no animal called, not even the nightjar, who had kept up his ugly shouting long after I had frightened him. Yet a woman doesn't vanish like an animal. Was this Father's doing? After a time the air began to move again, very slowly, faintly chilling our skins as it went by. Again the cloud shadows crept over the stars, and again the nightjar began his loud, tiresome call. "She was here—I saw her on the plain just before dark," said Rin. "I thought she was looking for fuel." "I saw her sitting in the bushes," said Pinesinger. "She was too tired to gather fuel. She left that work to the rest of us, although we were tired too." "Staring at the dark does no good," said Father. "If she wants to hide, you won't see her. Remember that she didn't want to come with us." "But she was tired," I said, although I knew the other people had no plans to help me look for her.
