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have infuriated them."
    "Hah!" laughed the Elder. "Let them be angry. They
will soon know fear!"
    "You sound like Huso."
    "Then he is a wise man," grinned the Elder. "Tell me,
you say you stole the Sunlord's weapon?"
    "It is here." Capac darted out of the doorway and
reappeared an instant later with the heavy rifle held in his hands.
He passed it across to the Elder.
    "A curious device," he muttered and he experimented
with the shape. "Not a club...Leave it with me, I may be able to
make something of it."
    Capac stood. "I will leave you now, with your
permission. Huso is awaiting me outside, and I'd like to get a
start out before sundown is upon us."
    The Elder acquiesced. "Just be careful out there, you
are the best hunter we have. I'd hate to lose you to the
Sunlords."
     
    * * *
     
    The forest was dark and the villagers had retired to
their huts. Door flaps were lashed open and fires kept low as the
summer air was hot and still. The Elder sat cross legged at the
entrance to his hut watching the deepening shadows advance, hearing
the sounds of the emerging creatures of night. The Elder watched as
score 'shian' fluttered across the white moon, silhouetting their
small bat like forms for an instant as they passed.
    He drew slowly on his pipe of Jawkra weed, inhaling
the sacred odours that gave one dreams and insights.
    He started as something fell before his open door
flap. Quickly the shadow resolved itself from the black backdrop as
it stepped into the firelight of the hut.
    "Myshia, is everything all right?" asked the
Elder.
    The Eloprin female shivered with shock and distress
as she entered the hut. Like all Eloprin females her flesh had a
flawless milky white, almost grey complexion. At the nape of her
neck was a protrusion like a large spine bone that would suckle
young that rode upon her back.
    "I...I have to talk to you," she gasped.
    The Elder immediately made way for her. He offered
for her to sit upon the mat near the fire.
    Myshia had spied an unconscious form wrapped in furs.
"Is that him?"
    "Yes that is the Currach, he is still deep in fever."
The Elder ladled a small bowlful of soup from a cooking pot and
offered it to the female. "Child, tell me what is wrong."
    Myshia took the offered food with trembling
hands.
    "I dreamt about him."
    The Elder was speechless.
    "It was vivid," Myshia continued. "They are becoming
more and more vivid every day. It was the same dream as before,
except this time it came upon me with force..." She broke off, her
voice too choked to continue.
    "There, my child," soothed the Elder. "I cannot begin
to imagine how confusing it must be for you."
    "I wish I never had the Gift!" sobbed Myshia angrily.
"I don't want it."
    The Elder rocked back on his heels. "Your mother had
the Gift too, you know. Of course, it was much milder than yours.
She would have premonitions in her sleep about the future and knew
when people would die. It scared her too. She used to come to me to
talk about it like you do now, in secret, away from the rest of the
tribe. Fearing shame. But my child, you must face and accept your
Gift like your mother learned to do."
    "I cannot live with the lives of others haunting me!"
shrieked Myshia.
    The Elder recoiled. Her dream must have been extreme
to have worked her up like this. "Tell me what you dreamt, little
one."
    "I was floating again, drifting out of my body and
leaving it behind. I saw a fire, a huge bonfire, and men were
dancing around it dressed in furs and animal masks. They had my
baby and tossed him back and forth. My baby was crying, screaming,
and I couldn't do anything."
    The Elder nodded. Myshia had been having this dream
for the past few months and every night the dream would go a step
further. The strange thing was that Myshia did not have a
child.
    "Are you sure it was your baby?" he queried. "The
last time you said it may not have been."
    Myshia shook her head firmly. "No, it was definitely
my baby. I just had that feeling deep inside, as if it had