It hung still for a very long time, keeping up with its smoky structure against the tuggings of the breeze, and afterward, with no further ado, it blurred absolutely from the earth. They had expected to track don’t down anything in the pit, however when they looked, they found that the soil dividers were spotted with pieces of tissue, chunks of bone, tacky protuberances that may have been coagulated blood, and this made them wonder much more at what they had seen, to question its world, however how much they should question it was one more risky matter; it additionally made them avoid each other for a period—to have seen what they had made them agonizingly mindful of their inclinations, and the possibility that they each had such a passing inside them, such a pyrotechnic and unwholesome potential, never really supported closeness. Beheim was especially agitated by the experience. He continued gazing at his hands and hoping to see silver bones and luminous stars, considering what more he would come to find out with regards to this inconceivable life inside him, and when he turned his eyes to Alexandra, rather than observing comfort in her excellence, he considered what Agenor probably seen, his very psyche ablaze, gazing out through the tissue of his victimizers into a spiraling fate of wilderness streams and little earthy colored men and hot tropical towns, and how he more likely than not felt realizing that his vision, the key, maybe, to their endless time periods, was the horrifying motor of his obscurity. They sat about for a long while, talking rarely, and as the sun dipped under the pine tops—four o’clock or somewhat later, Beheim figured—they plunked down confronting each other underneath a tall pine at the edge of the forest, a couple hundred yards from the palace dividers. A breeze lifted the limbs, and that breeze was the main sound, a velvety surge that injected his unsettled idea with a cool stream of smoothness. “There’s no explanation we need to return by any means,” Alexandra said. “We’ve enough of the medication to last a decent while. I have Felipe’s diary. There’ll be no trouble in making more.” “What of the Patriarch?” he inquired. “It’s not him we need to fear. He might well have overlooked us at this point. Until further notice, at any rate. It’s the Agenors and the Valeas. Roland’s companions. Also Felipe’s. They won’t act immediately. Odds are they won’t discover what’s occurred until everybody’s returned home. Yet, at some point or another they’ll choose to accomplish something.” “Then, at that point, you’re correct,” he said. “We shouldn’t return.” She made a sensitive commotion, one he took to flag vulnerability. “What’s up?” “Nothing,” she said. “Everything. I don’t have the foggiest idea.” She got a pine needle, jabbed it against the rear of her hand, snapping it. “I’m definitely not certain with regards to any of this.” “About me?” “You, yes. Also me. Also all the other things.” “Do you question the validity of Agenor’s Illumination?” “I’d give anything to have the option to deny its believability. In any case, how could I? The truth of the matter is, I comprehend it generally very well.” “What do you mean?” Alexandra moved, sat with folded legs, smoothed her skirt down over her legs. “We’re to go to this spot mostly adjust the world, this… What was the name?” “Sumarinda.” “Indeed, Sumarinda. Furthermore we’re to continue into the wilderness, work there, make a day to day existence there. Secured. Far off from everything.” “So it shows up.” “Would you be able to envision any other person you’ve met in the Family getting and heading out to Borneo? Regardless of whether they realized it was a result of information acquired during an Illumination, information that would save them?” He thought about this. “A small bunch, maybe.” “However we need to go,” she said. “Also we’ll be separated from everyone else. In the end others might come. Maybe others yet will come hunting us. Be that as it may, we’ll be distant from everyone else for quite a while. The majority of the Family won’t ever leave the old ground. They’d prefer bite the dust… and they will.” “You’re scared of being secluded?” “Aren’t you?” “It’s distinctive for me. I’ve never had a real sense of safety inside the Family. I’ve generally had a sensation of confinement.”