"No," Ford answered, and very nearly followed it with I'm not afraid of anything, but stopped himself. Those weren't his words at all, but Macnair's, from the night they'd first kissed. Ford frowned and pushed the thought from his mind, forcing himself back to the present where there was more than enough to occupy him. Strange growls, trap doors — if he went daydreaming about the past he might end up injuring himself in a house like this, or being attacked by gnomes, or something, so best not to dwell on any of his memories of Macnair.

He climbed up the ladder and into the attic, and immediately felt a little breathless. It wasn't the climb that had done it, but rather the view. He'd read about the aurora borealis before and had probably even seen pictures, but nothing compared to actually seeing the lights dance overhead. "Oh, this is incredible," he said appreciatively. "Is it really like this?" he couldn't help but ask, even though Dodonus had said just a moment ago that it might be an imperfect replica.

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