Anagara, now small as a cat, came to the bedside of the skin-changer. Though youth had left the small woman, she had always had a ruddy look of good health that probably hid her true age, but now the skin was tight and pinched around eyes that still glittered from a trace of fever. Angara wondered if Morgoth had instilled his own form of the Black Breath over the city of Gondolin. She would have to ask Child if there was any athelas on board the ship. No. She would have to check what belongings were left behind in Child's cabin.
"I'm on the Lonely Star." Bird stated with wonder. "I had started to believe that it was gone, too."
Yes, it survives. As well as Veritas, Kehlek. The Hobbrim and Daisy are here too."
"And Mithadan?"
"He still sleeps. We cannot wake him."
Bird sat in silence, her fingers playing with a loose thread on the coverlet. Finally, Angara said "We will sail for Numenor soon."
The changling looked up then. "No! We have to go back. I have to go back. I promised."
"Bird, we must continue our journey to Numenor."
"I know. But I have to go to Dorthonian. I can do it. I'll fly there, then fly back to the ship. I can do this. I'm a dragon now. Like you. Or I can swim up the Sirion. Levanto will come with me. I know he will. I can take them food, or carry messages. Or bring them back. I have to do this, Angara. I can do this, I know I can..."
Angara held up one front claw, and Bird lapsed into silence again. The hand played with the loose thread.
"Angara..."
"Yes, Bird?"
"Do you hear her? At all?"
"No."
The thread had started to unravel. Bird took her fingers in her other hand and pulled them away.
"7000 years. How does anyone live 7000 years?"
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