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..."Matt didn't finish the sentence. They lay still, and Lynn suddenly felt chilled. After a few minutes Matt got up, pulled on his shorts and a tee-shirt, slipped into his sandals, and left the room.****************Seven weeks later -- Saturday nightThey worked silently for the most part, in front of the bookshelves on opposite sides of the room. Lynn was sorting through their CDs and Matt was doing the books.He said, "shall I leave the Dickens novels? I've read them all." Whatever you want--take them if you like. I'm never going to read them."She pulled out another handful of CDs and put the ones belonging to Matt on a little pile next to her. Then she turned around and gazed at him.She watched the way his back muscles moved under his teeshirt, the way each of his movements was smooth and precise. It was all so familiar that it brought tears to her eyes.In a low voice she said, "you know this is not what I want. I never wanted this."Matt stopped moving for a moment; but he didn't. The rest of the day was complete with moments of terror and abject dread of an inhuman test waiting at the other end of the journey. What was the test?On his trip to Timisoara after he left Zeb, Porter had awakened each morning to practice swordplay. Not this time. He had little doubt that a sword would be of little use to him in the middle of the Waste. Each morning he awoke, pushing away from a smothering wastecat and expanding his Blue like a rolling thin blanket across the land from where he stood. Blue was his weapon for this test.With his newfound sense of self and his expanding practice of the Blue, Porter discovered that he really did not know his new adopted world despite his wide travels. For instance, he hated snakes; yet this forest seemed to favor the reptiles, which dwelled on the ground, in the undergrowth and even in the treetops. They were everywhere. With winter pressing, all of the reptiles were acting more sluggish and preparing to return to their dens to hide.
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