"Thank you. My brother fertilized Nocturne. He came here three years ago. My years. It was, I think, the second season of Spring. What you call Pestilence. He was going to squat on an island, and then when he had got himself settled I was to come out and join him. But things didn't go quite right. The first island your Development Council sent him to was nothing more than rock and water. Nothing grew there. So he went back for another recommendation. He spent more of his money getting around to the other side of the pole.

"That island had good soil. It also had a dozen squatters already, who were feuding. One group shot at him, another took him in. But they just wanted to fill out their ranks for their war. He wrote back, he said one day he was hauling up traps in a little bay, and someone shot the man in the boat with him. The guys on the shore kept telling him they weren't going to hurt him, he should just come ashore and join their side of the feud. Gary sat there, covered with the blood and brains of the dead man, the boat bobbed and turned on the waves, and they shouted and laughed from the shore. Eventually the boat turned until the bow was pointing out to sea. So Gary just turned it on. They shot at him, but they missed.

"He drove that boat until the battery went dead. Then he put out the oars and rowed until he came back to the mainland. He did find a couple places that might have worked out, but they had collectives on them, you had to buy into them, and he was out of money. The last message I got from him said he found some scorched land on an island far from the pole. There was no one else on the island, but he'd rather that than go back to the place he had been. But by then it was, what is the third season of Pestilence? First Harvest, and he was tired, poor, and sick. According to the notice I got a year later, he only lived a few days after that last letter. It was a common fever. Something he could have easily avoided, if anyone had been there to tell him how to do it."

Chloe looked at Reed fiercely. "I intend to live."

"Hames will treat you well," Reed said softly. "Unless this whole region starves, you won't. This is a hard world, but you couldn't live with a better man to help you face it."

"You think less of me, don't you, for coming here to be his bride. You're offering me kindness, but it is the kindness of pity."

"No."

"Yes. I don't need pity. I'm not giving up anything. You think I'm giving up something very important, but you're wrong. It's not that important. I'll still have me. I can still be the person I want to be. And having Hames or you or anyone else around won't change that. I accept changes, I don't surrender to them. Don't laugh at me!"

Reed stopped smiling. "I wasn't laughing. I was just thinking. You remind me of Hames. You two will either fall in love, or you'll kill each other."

Chloe turned around and rode in silence for awhile. The rain finally started, a light mist on a blustering wind, not enough to really wet their hair. Reed expected more, but instead of turning into driving rain it faded, leaving them damp and heavy in the growing gloom. Reed caught a glimpse of a large form perched in a tree by the shore.

"Look over there," he pointed. "An owl. First one I've seen this year."

She followed his finger.

"Real owls?" she asked.

It spread its wings and swept down, plunging into the water, then lifting off suddenly with a fish-shaped shadow dangling from its talons.

"No," she said. "That's a Nocturne owl."

"Yes," Reed said. "Nothing from the Old World would live here."

"Except us." Chloe sighed. "I'd better see what this world looks like while the light lasts. Do your trees lose their leaves in winter, like ours?"

"Yes. Almost the whole world goes dormant. Only the seas are still alive."

"Maybe we should follow their lead, and hibernate until spring."

"I hate spring. There's a reason why it's called Pestilence, after all. More people die in Pestilence than in any other season, unless there's some problem with the stores. Death is my favorite season. It's the only peaceful one we have. But Famine isn't bad. You'll learn to like the dark."

"I don't doubt I will. A part of me liked that this was the season you were going into right now. I could have waited a little longer, you know. I could have come closer to the end of Famine. But it seemed right to restart under cover of darkness, give myself some time before I was forced to see what I had done by the light of day."

"So you do have doubts."

"Who wouldn't? But when the sun rises in the Spring, I will look around and find that I am still me." She picked up her braid and cradled it in her hands.

"And your children?"

Chloe dropped the braid. "Children?"

"It's possible. Hames will expect it. You could have two before sunrise. Hames will think it's a good idea, in fact, because it's possible you might lose one in Pestilence."

"Now you're being nasty," she said, with startling clarity. "You really do dislike your brother, don't you?"

Reed opened the throttle instead of answering. The wake built up a roar behind them, and the waves slapped harder against the bow. Chloe braced herself against the jarring bounce of the boat.

"What about you, Reed?" She raised her voice over the increased noise. "You're going to be my brother-in-law, who the hell are you? Are you married?"

He shook his head.

"What is it that you do better than Hames?"

"Don't."

"No. I want to know. It's dark, you can't see my face. The world's shutting down, no one will know until the sun rises two years from now. Hames is the better farmer. Is he the better man?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm kinder."