He said half-jokingly, “I carry a good-luck piece like a lot of other superstitious jockeys, if that’s what you mean.”

“I mean much more than that,” the captain said. “Do you believe in signs and omens?”

“I suppose everyone feels he’s had a premonition now and then of something that might happen. But to answer your question, no, I don’t believe in signs and omens, Captain.”

“It is not your nature to believe as it is mine,” the captain said. “I am more superstitious than most men. I believe strongly in her powers.” He raised the figurine to Alec’s face. “I must never let her fall into strange, unkind hands.”

Again Alec fought the impulse to turn away from the frightening ugliness of the image. He must not let the captain know how he felt. He stared into the figurine’s green eyes held opposite his own. They seemed to be winking back at him. He knew his imagination was playing tricks on him but he didn’t turn away. Why did the captain want to know how much he could take before he revealed his fears openly?

The green eyes continued winking and Alec had no idea how many minutes he looked into them before the captain put the figurine back in his pocket.

“It has been in my family for many, many generations,” the captain said, his voice now more matter-of-fact. “Strangely enough, some of my ancestors believed—as does Odin—that it was found in an Indian burial mound not far from this hammock.”

Alec closed his eyes for a few seconds and lightly pressed his fingers over his lids. One more piece had been fitted into the puzzle, he thought. The captain had returned to the area where his beloved figurine was believed to have been found. But Alec no longer cared to learn the reason why. All he wished was that he had never ridden to the hammock.

He didn’t want the captain to confide in him, whatever reason the man might have for doing it. Alec had a premonition of his own now. He knew too much already, and if he learned more, he might never be allowed to leave.

“I like you, Alec,” the captain was saying softly. “You are a very imaginative person. You would not have come this way today if you were not. While you are practical about many things, you often live in a magical world. Am I not right?”

“No more than others I know,” Alec said. “Having an imagination is part of living. I came this way because I had never seen the real Everglades and I was curious.”

“Of course,” the captain answered. The ghost of a smile reappeared on his thick lips. “You are young, so you are imaginative and curious. Most adults lose both those traits very quickly in their attempts to be useful and practical. There are few who believe there is anything that might ever excel, even surpass, life itself!”

Alec studied the captain’s intent face, wondering how far he could go. Finally he said, “You must be kidding. Even young people wouldn’t go so far as to believe that.”

There was no humor in the masklike face before him, and Alec knew he had miscalculated when the captain’s dark eyes burned into his own.