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So Queen Lura, having now another little daughter, named Maddala, who was just like all other children, and a great comfort to her mother, was the more inclined to grant Maya's prayer.
Then she laughed again. "But it is not perfected. It may not ever be perfected now. I thought that perhaps Wolden and Gor might help me with it." Gunnar muttered some words that might be roughly interpreted as "Fat Chance" and he and Odin left the girl on the steps. As they walked around the little lake which was as smooth as a mirror, Gunnar explained. "Her mother was a cousin to Maya's mother.
Maya still remembered every detail of this incident with the child and the mosquito, but her craving to know human beings well had not been stilled. She made up her mind to be bolder and never stop trying until she had reached her goal. At last Maya's longing to know human beings was to be satisfied, and in a way far, far lovelier and more wonderful than she had dreamed.
They slid to the marble street and died. And the Kalis laughed and whined and screamed as they fed. Even above their feeding-song and the screams of their victims came the shrill, triumphant cry of Nea urging them on. Nor was the rest of Maya's army still. One old Bron who had been a slave of Grim Hagen for too long had found a shotgun among Hagen's treasures and was blasting away.
Ah, if little Maya had had an inkling of the many dangers and hardships that lay ahead of her, she would certainly have thought twice. But never dreaming of such things, she stuck to her resolve. Soon tiredness overcame her, and she fell asleep. When she awoke, the sun was gone, twilight lay upon the land. A bit of alarm, after all. Maya's heart went a little faster.
At this juncture, a helpful waiter appeared at Maya's elbow and asked in an appallingly distinct tone: "Would you care for another drink, Miss Cara Nome, or do you wish to eat now?" "An understandable mistake, since it's such a common name," said Dark, sitting down opposite her.
Odin and Gunnar scrambled ashore. Piper pushed the boat back into the river and was gone. Three thin sickles of moons were cleaving their way across the sky. A few unfamiliar stars were out. There was enough light now for them to see Maya's tomb not far away. It seemed to be fashioned of moonbeams.
They were halfway across the big building when Nuwell Eli appeared around a corner about thirty feet ahead of them. He stopped, staring, at the sight of Maya's companion. "Maya," he began, as they neared him. "Who ...?" Then he recognized Dark. With a terrified yelp, Nuwell turned and raced back down the side corridor at top speed.
At the door of Maya's tent he entreated her to go with him to the white settlements, and on her refusal he broke into angry threats, declaring, in the self-forgetfulness of passion, that he would kill her lover and lead the English against the tribe.
Little Maya's heart swelled with the ecstasy of self-sacrifice and the dauntless courage of enthusiasm. It was not easy for her to find her way over the woods. Long before she had ceased to observe landmarks as did the other bees, who had great distances to come back with their loads of nectar.
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