“You just . . . breathed different!” gasped Jodie, shock the silent voice of all nonverbal communication oozing from her resolute face and body like gray light.

“I’m open now in my music,” whispered Revy. “It fits. It’s who I am. This is the first time it’s been like this for me. Don’t you care?” He leant gracefully to place his old guitar back in its stand. The soft, alien voice he’d met and come to love from within and surrounding his music continued to sing sweet, crystal harmonies in his mind.

“You sound different, man! You sound like a . . . woman!” Jodie heaved, then leapt from the edge of the bed to her feet, and froze, her eyes darting from Revy to her iun. “What happened to you?!”

He felt her pulling away . . . a magnet drawn to a separate world represented there at the edge of her end table.

Always, always away.

He shook his head, forgetting silent, candy-coated tones still resonating somewhere deep within.

“Hello,” said a man’s voice, deep and cool. “My name is Rev.”