I didn't ask Lhar what sort of mammals she had in her own world. "That's what the robot wanted when it tried to stop me before, isn't it?"
"He wanted you to help me, yes. But you are weak from the shock you have had. I cannot ask you—"
I said, "How much blood do you need?"
At her answer, I said, "All right. You saved my life; I must do the same for you. I can spare that much blood easily. Go ahead."
She bowed toward me, a fluttering white flame in the dimness of the tree-room. A tendril flicked out from among her petals, wrapped itself about my arm. It felt cool, gentle as a woman's hand. I felt no pain.
"You must rest now," Lhar said. "I will go away but I shall not be long."
The robot clicked and chattered, shifting on its tentacle legs. I watched it, saying, "Lhar, this can't be t
