“Oh, I think that’s enough for now, don’t you?” he said, a small, sad smile on his face.

“Well, I appreciate you telling me, Geis. But I’m going to have to move fairly rapidly from now on; it might be best for you and the rest of the family if you all kept out of my way for the next year. I’ll need room to manoeuvre, know what I mean?”

“If you insist.” He sounded hurt.

“It’ll be all right,” she told him, holding her hand out to his. He looked at her hand, then shook it. “Really, Geis, I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing. Thanks again.” She leaned forward and quickly kissed his cheek.

She stepped back, releasing his hand. His smile was pale. He nodded, swallowing.

“I am, as ever, your faithful servant, cousin.”

Geis managed to make the stilted statement sound both sad and sincere. He took a step back, closer to the water; a wave washed over one boot and its spur terminal gave a little blue flash of light as it shorted. Geis flinched and stepped smartly away. Sharrow gave a small, involuntary laugh.

Geis smiled ruefully and scratched the side of his head. “Just can’t get my dramatic exits right when you’re around,” he sighed. “Well, if ever you need me; if ever I can do anything… just call me.”

“I shall. Goodbye.”

“Farewell, Sharrow.” He turned abruptly and walked quickly back to the bandamyion.

She watched him go, heading into the dunes. She heard him calling for the animal, and laughed quietly when she saw him chasing the lolloping beast over the summit of a distant dune.

Finally she shook her head and turned away, towards the hydrofoil moored a hundred metres away along the deserted shore.

“Ah, hello there,” said a voice, right behind her.

She froze, then turned smoothly, left hand sliding into the pocket of her jacket.