A Whisper of Time by Paula E. Downing

By Paula E. Downing

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Ian did that. ” As Samta smiled and tipped his head at her, she sighed. “Well, of course, you know that. ” They walked slowly along the path, their footfalls muffled and lost among the murmurs of the forest. ” Samta asked. ” “Well, there are lesser versions. ” “So you are Maya? ” She turned and looked at him more closely, then remembered her manners. Samta might not like that kind of stare; she surely didn't. He shrugged, his white teeth flashing in the darkness. ” Samta took her sleeve and pulled her into a side path as they passed it.

And she flounced off again. ” Medoret asked as Hillary vanished up the path. ” Samta shrugged. “Don't worry about it. ” He broke off a leaf and smelled it, then put it behind his ear. ” He shrugged again, but not unkindly. ” He grinned. “She thinks she's so unconventional, too. ” Samta laughed. ” She bit her lip, then decided she was out of her element. He laughed again, but a nice sound, not mocking. “Sorry, Medoret. ” As they walked down the path in the soft darkness, the forest's aliveness surrounding them, she looked at him surreptitiously.

Perhaps her mother had once pointed out the glyph-figure and named it so; perhaps she merely guessed like the humans and found certainty in her own willing—her dreams weren't clear enough to be sure of a chance memory. She scrolled through to the glyphs that dominated the smaller site at 70 Oph, a complex dedicated to the Vision Serpent and a Crocodile God. Perhaps the symbols were the Targethi name of the place, a single-temple complex near an exposed mine-face. The Targethi had sought silver and several other technological metals here, and some of the components of Tikal machines had been traced by metallurgical analysis back to this site.

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