“Well, stop shaking me!” she shouted.

He let her go and stood there, quivering, his eyes puffy. His hair, all white, looked dishevelled. “At least explain,” he said. “Why are you doing this? Why do you just have to go?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Tell me!”

“All right!” she snapped. “Because,” she said, talking quickly, “once upon a time, long ago and far away, there was a young girl who’d been promised to a great temple by her parents. She met a man-a duke-and they fell in love. They swore nothing would separate them, but they were tricked and she was taken to the temple after all.

“The Duke came to rescue the girl; she escaped and brought with her the temple’s greatest treasure. They married and she bore the Duke twins: a boy and a girl. In an attempt to get the treasure back, agents of the faith killed the Duke and his son.

“The treasure was hidden-no-one knows where-and the Duchess swore she’d avenge the deaths of her husband and child in any way she could, and to oppose the faith at every turn. She swore the surviving twin, a daughter, and all her descendants to the same oath.

“The faith responded in kind; a prophet had a vision and decided that the Messiah couldn’t be born until the faithful had their treasure back, or the female line of the family had died out; whichever came first. And however it worked, it had to happen by the time of the decamillenium.”

She studied Jyr’s tearful, uncomprehending face for a moment, then shook her head. “Well,” she said, exasperated, “you did ask.”

“Take me with you,” Jyr whispered.

“What? No.”

“Take me with you,” he repeated, taking one of her hands in his. “I’ll do anything for you. Please.”

She pulled her hand away. “Jyr,” she said, looking levelly into his eyes. “It was a good summer and I had a lot of fun; I hope you did too. But now I’ve got to go. Stay in the house until the lease runs out, if you want.”