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will."
       I had little hope that Justine would be able to talk to him. Long ago when the Timekeeper had let them marry, he had warned them, "Crueltime you can't conquer crueltime," and he had been right. It is commonly believed that it is differential aging, the alder, that kills love, but I do not think this is entirely true. It is age and selfness that kill love. We grow more and more into our true selves every second that we are alive. If there is such a thing as fate it is this: the outer self seeking and awakening to the true self no matter the pain and terror - and there is always pain and terror - no matter how great the cost may be. Soli, true to his innermost desire, had returned from the core enthralled by his need to comprehend the meaning of death and the secret of life, while Justine had spent those same long years on Neverness living life and enjoying the things of life: fine foods and the smell of the sea at dusk (and, some said, her lovers' caresses), as well as her endless quest to master her waltz jumps and perfect her figure eights.
       "I don't want Justine to talk to him," I lied.
       My mother tilted her head and touched my cheek with her hand as she had done when I was a boy sick with fever. "Don't be foolish," she said.
       A group of my fellow pilots led by the immensely tall and thin Sonderval, diffused like a black cloud through the professionals around us and surrounded me. Li Tosh, Helena Charbo, and Richardess - I thought they were the finest pilot's ever to come out of Resa. My old friend, Delora wi Towt, was pulling at her blonde braids as she greeted my mother. The Sonderval who came from an exemplar family off Solsken, stretched himself straight to his eight feet of height, and said, "I wanted to tell you, Mallory. The whole college is proud of you. For facing the Lord Pilot - excuse me Justine, didn't mean to insult - and we're proud of what you swore to do. That took courage, we all know that. We wish you well on your journey."
       I smiled because the Sonderval and I had always been the fiercest rivals at Resa. Along with Delora and Li Tosh (and Bardo when he wanted to be), he was the smartest of my fellow pilots. The Sonderval was a sly man, and I sensed more than a bit of reproach in his compliment. I did not think he believed I was courageous for swearing to do the impossible; more likely, he knew that my anger had finally undone me. He seemed very pleased with himself, probably because he thought I would never return. But then, the exemplars of Solsken always need to be pleased with themselves, which is why they have bred themselves to such ridiculous heights.
       The Sonderval and the others excused themselves and drifted off into the crowd. My mother said, "Mallory was always popular. With the other journeymen, if not his masters."
       I coughed as I stared at the white triangles of the floor. The singing seemed to grow louder. I recognized the melody of one of Takeko's heroic (and romantic) madrigals. I was filled instantly with despair and false courage. Confused as I was, vacillating between bravado and a cowardly hope that Soli would dissolve my oath, I raised my voice and said, "Mother, I swore what I swore; it doesn't matter what Justine says to Soli."
       "Don't be a fool," she said. "I won't have you killing yourself."
       "But you'd have me dishonor myself."
       "Better dishonor - whatever that is - than death."
       "No," I said, "better death than dishonor." But I did not believe my own words. In my heart, I was all too ready to accept dishonor rather than death.
       My mother muttered something to herself - it was a habit of hers - something that sounded like, "Better that Soli should die. Then you'd suffer neither. Death nor dishonor."
       "What did you say?" I asked.
       "I didn't say anything."
       She looked over my shoulder and frowned. I turned to see Soli, tall and somber in his tight black robe, pushing his way through