My name it is Robin Hood.

chores, but she had finished half the catch before she realized it, washing them clean in the little brook. Lars was back as she slit the last one. In one crooked arm, he held twisted polly fronds that provided a quick hot fire, and another basket swung from his right hand. He found rocks by the stream to enclose their fire, hauled a frying sheet from the basket, and set out oil, seasonings bread, fruit, and another pot of the soft island cheese. The quick tropical night had settled upon the island, enclosing them more securely in their clearing as they finished their supper, licking the last of the juices from their fingers. Going to be nice to me? Lars asked, leering dramatically at her. Maybe Ill just stay in the islands. Killashandra surprised herself with the longing in her voice. Theres all I could possibly need just for the taking Even me? Killashandra looked up at him. Despite his light words, his voice held a curious entreaty. I would be a right foolish dolt to consider you part of the taking. She meant it, for quixotic though the man might appear, she sensed that Lars had an unshakeable integrity which she, or any other woman, would have to recognize and accept. We could stay in the islands, Carrigana, and make a go of the charter service. Lars, too, was caught in the same thrall which infected her resolve. Sailings never dull. The weather sees to that. It could be a good life, and I promise you wouldnt have to hack polly! His fingers caressed her hands. Lars She had to set the record fair. He covered her lips with his hand. No, beloved, this is not the time for life-shaping decisions. This is the time for loving. Love me again! Chapter 12 The idyll lasted another full day and into the early morning of the third, during which time Killashandra would have been quite willing to forego all the prestige of being a crystal singer to remain Larss companion. A totally impossible, improbable, and impractical ambition. But she had every intention of enjoying his companionship as long as it was physically possible. She was haunted by memories of Carrik and, as such traumas can, they colored, and augmented, her responses to Lars. It was the change in the weather which necessitated their return to society. The drop in barometric digital slr camera gallery pressure woke Killashandra just before dawn. She lay, wide awake, Larss lax arms draped about her, his legs overlapping hers, wondering what had returned her so abruptly to full consciousness. Then she smelled a change in weather on the early morning breeze. It had not occurred to Killashandra that her Ballybran symbiont would be agitated by other weather systems. And she pushed her sensitivity as far as she could, testing what the change might herald. Storm, she decided, letting symbiotic instinct make the identification. And a heavy one. In these islands a hurricane more likely than not. A worrisome phenomenon for a reasonably flat land mass. No, there were heights on what Lars had termed the Head. She smiled, for yesterday, in between other felicitous activities, he had given her quite a history and geography lesson pertinent to the island economy. This island gets its name from the shape of the land mass, he explained and drew a shape on the wet sands with a shell. They had just emerged from a morning swim. It was seen first from the exploratory probe and named long before any settlers landed here. Theres even a sort of a halo of islets off the Head. Were at the Wingtip. The settlement lies in the wing curve see and the western heights are the wings, complete with the ridge principle. This side of the island is much lower than the body side. Weve two separate viable harbors, north and south, the angels outstretched hands completing the smaller, deeper one. My fathers offices are there, as the backbone sometimes interferes with reception from the mainland. You cant see it from here because of Backbone Ridge, but theres rather an impressive old volcano topping the Head. He grinned mischievously, giving Killashandra an impression of the devilish child he must have been. Some of us less reverent souls say the Angel blew her head when she knew who got possession of the planet. Not so, of course. It happened eons before we got here. Angel was not the largest of the islands but Lars told her that shed soon see that it was the best. The southern sea was littered Lars said, with all kinds of land masses: some completely sterile, others bearing active volcanoes, and anything large enough to support polly plantations and other useful tropical vegetation did so. We were a race apart from the mainlanders, and weve remained so, Carrigana. They listen to what the Elders dish up for them, dulling their