Child of a Dead God

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Magiere lost track of the days and nights as their supplies rapidly dwindled. By the time they reached the range's western side, Chap spent nearly half of each day hunting with Sgaile or Osha for anything to eat. Roasting mice and squirrels ferreted from hibernation became the low point in their scant and meager meals. But as the air grew warmer and any snowfall became rain in the foothills, they fared a little better each following day.

One day, spouts of light green wild grass appeared along a muddy path. And then spring greeted them as they stood upon a high crest looking down over the Everfen.

The marshlands stretched west beyond sight. Magiere began descending quickly, until Wynn took a step, and her boot was sucked off in the deep mud. Leesil helped retrieve it, as Wynn teetered on the other foot, and then everyone trod more carefully.

Even when the rain broke for a short spell, the constant drip from the trees soaked them. But the air was no longer frigid.

"If it was not so wet, I would leave my coat behind," Wynn joked.

Magiere was glad to see her in better spirits. The journey down through sharp foothills had been grueling for little Wynn. At one point, her limp was so severe that Sgaile suggested carrying her on his back. Wynn adamantly refused, though Osha took away her pack, slinging her heavy bundle of books over his shoulder.

Sgaile had changed since the night he and Osha had placed the dead anmaglahk in the cave. He would have preferred to cremate the bodies and carry their ashes home. But Magiere felt that something else was troubling him. He'd become cautious in covering their trail whenever possible, and often looked anxiously back along their way.

She asked him about his strange behavior, but he only said she read too much into his vigilance. Perhaps this was true, and in any case Magiere had other concerns.

Her dreams had ceased completely-a relief on one hand, and yet disturbing on the other.

She never wanted to hear that hissing voice again, but felt this was only a reprieve-it might come again. And having reached the Everfen, they would soon have to find a way to cross it.

So far, they'd found adequate solid ground, but Magiere had heard accounts of this region. As they crossed its eastern end toward Droevinka, the dry islands and ridges would grow sparse, and then vanish for leagues beneath the swamps.

Sgaile led with Leesil, Chap trotting beside them, until the day grew late. Magiere wasn't sure why, but Sgaile had become even more laconic than before, had been withdrawn and preoccupied since they'd come out of the foothills. She knew she'd never get an answer out of him and didn't try.

Chap pulled up and barked once.

Leesil stumbled under the orb's swinging weight as Sgaile halted. "There is a dwelling up ahead."

"Who would live out here?" Leesil asked.

Wading through the last few yards of mucky water, they stepped up a dry knoll to a small, thatched shack. Its hint of a garden had long gone fallow and an empty chicken coop rotted away along its side. One soggy, aging willow tree stretched up over the roof.

Chap sniffed about the chicken coop as Leesil knocked on the door.

"Hallo?" he called halfheartedly.

Barely waiting for an answer, he shoved the door open, dragging Sgaile along as he entered. Magiere followed and quickly covered her nose and mouth. A fetid stench filled the shack's one room.

"What is that smell?" Wynn said.

Leesil pointed. "Over there."

An old man lay in a ramshackle bed beneath burlap blankets pulled to his chin. He was clearly dead, and his sallow skin had shriveled upon his face beneath thinned, straggly hair.

"He must have died here alone, in his sleep," Wynn said, gasping for air. "A sad thing."

Magiere guessed the man had been dead less than a moon, and she agreed-it would be sad to die alone.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Wynn exclaimed.

Magiere spun about. The little sage looked upward in exhausted relief.

Burlap sacks hung from the rafters and down the walls to keep them free of excess moisture and scavengers. One high shelf above the hearth held tin canisters and an unglazed clay jar. Wynn went straight for the hearth and began digging through the odds and ends. Her brow wrinkled as she inspected a blackened iron pot.

"No rust that I can see," she reported. "Let us hope there are oats and grains or dried peas in those sacks."

She set down the pot, grabbed the clay jar, and lifted its lid.

"Oh," she groaned as if finding a lost treasure. "Honey… honey for biscuits!"

Leesil shook his head. "Just get some water boiling, while we find a better place for the owner to rest."

Magiere looked over at the old man. "We'd better scrap the bedding as well."

Though it felt wrong to invade a dead man's home, no one balked at the prospect of sleeping inside and eating something besides wild game. Leesil and Sgaile rolled the old man up in his bedding and carried him out back to bury him. Magiere shifted the orb to the back corner, then sat on the floor while Osha played assistant to Wynn.

"Go look for rain barrels outside," Wynn told him pointedly. "And do not bring swamp water in its place."

A scowl spread down Osha's long face. He looked thoroughly snubbed as he headed out the door, pot in hand. After some time, Sgaile and Leesil returned, but Sgaile hesitated in the doorway.

"I should scout the area," he said. "So we may choose a final path."

"Forget it," Leesil said, settling beside Magiere. "Just rest, and we'll do that in the morning."

But when Magiere looked back, Sgaile was gone.

Most Aged Father lay deeply troubled in the bower of his great oak. Half a moon past, he had received word from Hkuan'duv, the first in a long while. But the report was worse than expected-beyond displeasing.

Magiere had indeed acquired the artifact.

But A'harhk'nis and Kurhkage were dead, and Hkuan'duv and Danvarfij had lost her trail. The Greimasg'ah and his favored student guessed at Magiere's most likely route and were in pursuit. There had been no further word from Hkuan'duv, and Most Aged Father was left wondering. How did a reckless human woman and her companions continue to elude two of his best anmaglahk?

Perhaps it was Sgailsheilleache's intervention.

Not that Most Aged Father blamed him. He only held to his oath of guardianship and sense of honor. No, the blame lay with the deceitful Brot'an'duive-not the misled Sgailsheilleache.

If Magiere reached these human "sages," it would be harder to retrieve the artifact, and the consequences could be dire. Something so ancient had no place in human hands.

Most Aged Father grew agitated in anticipation of better news.

A soft hum rose in the oak's heart-root surrounding his bower chamber, and he leaned back, closing his eyes in relief. Hkuan'duv had finally called to report.

Father?

The voice threading through the oak into Most Aged Father's mind did not bear Hkuan'duv's cool dispassion. Lyrical but strained, it made Most Aged Father's frail heart quicken.

"Sgailsheilleache?"

A brief pause followed. He had not heard from Sgailsheilleache since the ship had sailed from Ghoivne Ajhajhe.

Father, forgive my long silence… much has happened.

Most Aged Father's first instinct was to rebuke him for his lack of contact. His second was to order Sgailsheilleache to seize the artifact and return. But this was a precarious situation, and he heard pain and doubt in Sgailsheilleache's voice. Whatever had kept him from contact, the dilemma clearly troubled him.

This anmaglahk was balanced on the edge of a knife. He needed reassurance.

"How do you fare, my son? Are you well?"

I am well, Father… His voice broke off and then returned. I still travel with Leshil and the humans. Brot'an'duive felt they would fare better on our ship with an interpreter, and I have… continued my guardianship. But so much has happened… now my thoughts turn circles.

In the mountain peaks, I found A'harhk'nis and Kurhkage slain. I could neither transport nor burn their bodies. I could only ask that the ancestors reach out and guide their spirits home.

Another pause, and a strange edge filled Sgailsheilleache's words when he spoke again.

Do you have knowledge of their mission in that region?

Most Aged Father took his own moment of hesitation. He preferred not to lie outright to one of his own.

"Your news will bring mourning to Crijheaiche. My heart is heavy at their loss. Perhaps your brothers tried to pass over the range and veered off. Kurhkage often coordinated efforts with Urhkarasiferin. They had discussed plans to scout the Ylladon States for potential ways to complicate the Droevinkan civil war. I will speak with Urhkarasiferin, as he may be able to enlighten us."

Yes, Father. Relief filled Sgailsheilleache's voice. That would be appreciated.

"How does your journey fare?"

Magiere has succeeded… but a good distance remains before we can deliver her find to its destination.

Most Aged Father stifled frustration.

Osha and I will travel on to Bela. I will contact you then, on the chance that one of our ships might be near. If not, it will take us longer to return home.

"Ah yes, you have taken young Osha as your student. I was surprised, but you often see promise and potential where others do not. How goes his training?"

He has faced harsh times but remains unwavering in duty and purpose. What he lacks in aptitude, he counters with devotion. I believe, in the end, he may find a place of value among us.

Sgailsheilleache sounded glad to speak of caste matters and the everyday trials of tutelage. It reassured Most Aged Father that he had taken the correct approach.

Sgailsheilleache was fiercely loyal to the caste, but between Brot'an'duive and that half-dead human woman, he followed a misguided path. Someone else needed to step in and relieve him of his burden.

"I am pleased to hear you fare well, my son," Most Aged Father said warmly. "And what is your current location?"

Our location?

"To gauge the days until you reach Bela… and if possible, dispatch a military vessel to meet you."

That would be most welcome, Father. We are southwest of the mountains below Droevinka… at the inland end of what the humans call the Everfen.

"In the swamplands? That will not be pleasant going. How far in?"

Barely a morning's travel due west. We were fortunate to find an empty dwelling and will pass this one night in better comfort.

Most Aged Father could not extend his awareness beyond his people's forest. But he could feel a sense of place when one of his caste spoke to him through word-wood. In touching such to a living tree, the speaker's voice was altered subtly by what the word-wood pressed against.

"And you call me from a willow tree?" he said. "In the middle of that swamp? Ah, a hardy tree it is."

He played this little game with a few of his oldest or dearest children- to see if Most Aged Father could name the caller's tree.

Yes, Father, you rarely miss. Another pause followed. It is so good to speak with you again.

"And with you, my son."

I will contact you again when we reach Bela.

"I look forward to your return… and will do what I can to hasten it."

In silence and in shadows, Father.

The connection faded.

Most Aged Father had put Sgailsheilleache's troubled mind at ease, and this situation would soon be over. He clicked his fingers against his bower, waiting a long time, until another voice threaded through the oak's wood.

Father, I fear that I have little-

"Wait, Hkuan'duv… and listen carefully."

The next morning, Leesil had barely stepped outside to stretch when Sgaile called from around the shack's rear.

"Leshil… Magiere… come!"

Magiere emerged behind Leesil, rubbing her eyes. "What's he yelling about?"

Leesil shrugged and walked off around the dwelling with Magiere on his heels. When he saw Sgaile holding up the edge of a tarp, he stopped. Magiere nearly stumbled over him.

Sgaile crouched beside a narrow longboat pulled up the knoll. It looked sound and in good shape.

"This must be how the old man gained his supplies," Sgaile said, far more cheerful than he'd been in days, "which means there is a settlement somewhere within reach."

Leesil glanced at Magiere.

She raised one eyebrow. "He's in a rare mood."

When Sgaile had returned from his short evening scout the night before, his demeanor had altered drastically. He'd checked on the orb, nosed in on Wynn's cooking, and Leesil could have sworn the dour elf almost smiled at the aroma rising from the blackened iron pot.

But in any case, the boat was a welcome sight. Leesil trotted forward to inspect it.

"Well, a settlement might not be so good," he replied. "Not if Droevinka is turned upside down in a civil war."

"True enough," Sgaile agreed. "But it is an opportunity to renew our supplies… and make the rest of the journey more tolerable."

Leesil looked up at him. "Did you find a flask of rum you didn't bother to share?"

"A flask of what?"

"Never mind."

Magiere stood with folded arms, quietly looking over the boat.

Leesil knew her feelings were mixed. She was desperate to reach Miiska but not eager to pass through her old homeland during a civil war-and neither was he, for that matter.

Wynn and Osha came around the side of the shack, erupting in excited chatter at the sight of the longboat. Chap came last, tail in the air. Magiere just rolled her eyes at them. She gazed around the marshes and cattails, moss-laden trees and murky green waters. Frogs croaked and enormous dragonflies sailed past.

"Never thought I'd miss this country," she said, "but after so long in those mountains…"

"Oh, we must be mad!" Leesil returned with exaggerated drama.

Magiere half smiled at him as she headed back inside.

They had all passed a pleasant night, and what remained of dinner, from flatbread and honey to chickpeas and smoked-cured beef, was still welcome for breakfast. As they began gathering their gear, Magiere retrieved the orb herself.

Soon, everyone had coats or cloaks with weapons strapped on. All their belongings were piled at the knoll's edge as Leesil helped Sgaile slide the longboat into the murky water.

"Store goods both ends-better balance," Osha suggested.

"I forgot the rest of the flatbread," Wynn said and ran for the shack. "I will be right back."

Sgaile spun the boat slowly, pulling its side in against the knoll. Leesil grabbed the pack Osha held out and tucked it in the bow.

"Magiere…?" Wynn called out.

Leesil looked up.

The little sage stood at the shack's corner just beyond the half-collapsed chicken coop, and then she backed up without turning.

"Sgaile!" Wynn shouted.

Chap bolted toward her as Leesil took off past Magiere. He grabbed Wynn, a freed stiletto already hidden in his hand, and pulled her back. Magiere raced around him to the shack's front, hand on her falchion's hilt. Leesil saw the source of Wynn's warning as Sgaile came into the open.

A man and a woman approached through the shallow water at the knoll's north side. Leesil went rigid at the sight of their gray-green attire.

Anmaglahk.

Both weatherworn, the woman held a shortbow drawn with an arrow nocked. But Leesil focused on the man.

Cowl down, his hair was almost white and cut short, standing up in unwashed bristles. His amber eyes were flat and emotionless, and even trudging out of shin-deep water, his steps barely left ripples. He didn't look down once, as if he'd never missed a step in his life. His gray-green cloak was tied up, and he held no weapon.

"Sgaile?" Leesil said, tearing his gaze away to glance at his companion.

Sgaile remained silent as the newcomers crested the knoll, stopping ten paces off. Then he nodded once to the older male.

"Greimasg'ah."

"I have a purpose from Most Aged Father," the man said in perfect Belaskian, and his tone was as emotionless as his gaze. "You will turn both the artifact and the dark-haired human over to me."

Magiere ripped the falchion from its sheath, as the female anmaglahk turned the bow on her.

Hkuan'duv had not seen these humans this close. It was unsettling.

He did not blink when Magiere pulled her weapon.

Somehow, her black hair with the strange red glints, her white face and dark eyes, made him feel tainted. The proximity of the shabby half-blood, the deviant majay-hi, and even the small woman in rolled-up pants did not affect him the same way.

This half-dead thing with the defiant face and unnatural color sparked revulsion.

Most Aged Father had warned Hkuan'duv about her, ordered him to eliminate her.

In spite of his discomfort at her close proximity, he was relieved to finally reveal himself to Sgailsheilleache and Osha, no longer skulking behind them. He had openly given his purpose, and it superseded all others. This entire matter was over.

Sgailsheilleache stepped out and raised a shielding arm before Magiere.

"I do not understand," he said in Elvish. "My oath of guardianship is not completed… and cannot be broken."

"The word of Father outweighs all," Hkuan'duv answered flatly.

"With respect, Greimasg'ah… nothing outweighs my oath."

Hkuan'duv stared at him.

Sgailsheilleache was openly questioning the will of Most Aged Father and the needs of his caste and people. Hkuan'duv studied him more closely, as Sgailsheilleache's gaze shifted wildly back and forth.

"We serve!" Hkuan'duv snapped. "It is our place to put the hope and safety of our people above our own concerns. You will turn the artifact over at once!"

Sgailsheilleache's eyes stopped shifting and locked upon Hkuan'duv.

Sgaile's stomach clenched.

In the night, Most Aged Father had spoken to him like a son, asked after Osha, and expressed relief at the prospect of their homecoming. Now Hkuan'duv, one of the revered Greimasg'ah, had arrived by the next dawn- demanding that Sgaile revoke guardianship and turn over the artifact… and Magiere?

Chap lunged out before Hkuan'duv with a threatening snap.

The Greimasg'ah held his ground, but Danvarfij backed a step, visibly uncertain of turning her bow on a majay-hi.

"Wait!" Leshil called, and the dog pulled up short. "What's this about?"

"He will not listen to Sgaile," Wynn whispered. "They want Magiere and the orb."

Sgaile flinched as Magiere took a threatening step forward, trying to push past his arm. He grabbed for her, but she slapped his hand away. Sgaile shook his head sharply, holding up his open hand, and she stopped.

"Relinquish the artifact," Hkuan'duv repeated, and his eyes narrowed. "Or I will take it."

The tightness in Sgaile's stomach released.

Hkuan'duv could not relinquish his accepted purpose. And Sgaile would not break his guardianship-to Magiere or her promise to the human sages. He stood opposed to two of his own caste.

He stilled his emotions and shook his head slowly at Hkuan'duv.

"I am my people," he said in clear Belaskian, "their ways and the protection of them… and I will not break a sacred oath!"

Leesil couldn't follow anything said in Elvish, other than what Wynn had translated in a whisper-and one Elvish term.

Greimasg'ah.

How had these two anmaglahk found them on the edge of the Everfen? He quickly calculated who he'd have to take down first. Between a master anmaglahk and the woman with a loaded bow, it was even odds which was more immediately dangerous.

In truth, only Osha's loyalties struck Leesil as uncertain. The young elf appeared confused and frightened by what was playing out before him. Sgaile would never break his word, and he'd proven that more than once. But Leesil didn't truly understand the shifting authority in Anmaglahk hierarchy. Who would Osha follow-his teacher and Sgaile's oath, or a revered master of his caste, sent by Most Aged Father?

Leesil shifted his eyes to the woman with the bow aimed at Magiere. It was clear which one he had to take down first.

Sgaile spoke a final reply, clear for all to hear.

At the quick flick of the female elf's eyes, Leesil snapped his hand forward.

Her bowstring released as the stiletto spun from his hand.

Sgaile shoved Magiere aside as Leesil pulled the catches on his punching blades. The arrow grazed Magiere's arm and flew out into the swamp. The woman crouched swiftly, and the stiletto passed harmlessly above her.

Leesil pulled both winged blades as she came up.

She never paused. By the time he'd readied his blades, she'd notched a second arrow. Chap charged as the woman pulled back the bowstring.

Sgaile slipped into the master anmaglahk's path, bone knife in hand, and shouted, "Osha, do not interfere!"

"No!" Wynn shouted. "Stop, all of you!"

No one listened to her.

Wynn's late cry accomplished nothing, and her mind raced for a way to stop this confrontation. But Chap did not even slow in his attack.

He snarled savagely, but the female anmaglahk changed tactics before he closed. She hopped, folding her legs an instant before he snapped at her knee. One foot lashed down and struck the side of his head. Chap's muzzle bit into wet earth as he twisted off his feet.

Wynn flinched, stunned that any elf would strike a majay-hi.

Magiere came back from Sgaile's hard shove as Leesil went at the elven woman with both winged blades.

Osha jerked Wynn back, pinning her to the shack's side. But she saw his stricken profile as he watched Sgaile and the Greimasg'ah in horror.

They slashed and feinted so fast that each time Wynn flinched another strike was already in motion. She counted half a dozen attacks. What would happen if one of them spilled the other's blood?

"Stop them!" she shouted at Osha. "You must do something!"

Magiere rounded the older elf's flank, cocking her falchion in a double grip. Osha blocked Wynn with his body, as if he didn't know what else to do.

The female anmaglahk ducked Leesil's first strike as Chap hauled himself up.

A stiletto appeared in the woman's hand as she whirled and slashed for Leesil's face.

Magiere's mind went blank as the woman kicked Chap's head and the dog went down hard in the wet sod. Rage welled up inside Magiere.

Daylight burned in her widening sight. Her eyeteeth grew, her fingernails hardened, and then she saw Leesil charge the woman. The last of her wits turned her toward the male elf, hoping Leesil and Chap could deal with the woman.

The master anmaglahk was the worst threat before Magiere. When reason overrode rage, she went at him, but she caught one last glimpse of Leesil.

The elven woman whirled away from his blade's reach and slipped behind his first slash. The tip of her stiletto sliced down Leesil's cheek to the corner of his mouth.

"No!" Magiere tried to snarl, but the word slurred.

Blood spattered from Leesil's face as he twisted his head aside.

Magiere veered around Sgaile and the Greimasg'ah, charging at the elven woman. Chap struggled up as the female elf came about.

The woman faltered at the sight of Magiere and hissed something in Elvish.

Magiere ground her rear heel in the sod. Chap dodged out of the way as she brought the falchion down with both hands.

The woman vanished, and Magiere's falchion only split wet earth. Her knees buckled suddenly, and her feet ripped from under her.

Magiere slammed down on her back, driving a grunt between her teeth. She saw the female anmaglahk rise from a low spin, bow tossed aside, and a blade appeared in each hand. Magiere rolled away to one knee, whipping the falchion around to shield herself.

Leesil flashed into view as he leaped over Magiere's head and landed in front of the woman.

Blood trailed down the side of his face, spreading into his mouth. Magiere could see that he wasn't moving fast enough as the woman shifted for his flank.

Panic overran rage as Magiere pushed off to her feet.

Chap rounded Magiere's far side, trying to flank the female anmaglahk.

In the span of a few blinks, the woman had wounded Leesil and put Magiere down. Leesil faltered as blood ran into the corner of his right eye, and Magiere would not close in time.

Chap's head ached, but he charged low at the woman's legs rather than leap to take her down. She would either dodge or simply slash at him, but he had no other choice to keep her off his companions for a moment.

Leesil tried to strike, and the woman twisted away. He turned his head and seemed to lose sight of her with blood smeared in his eye. The woman wormed inside his guard, driving a stiletto up.

Chap slammed headfirst into her left leg.

Sgaile cleared his mind of all thoughts, even his oath of guardianship. He let silence fill him and clear away distraction.

Hkuan'duv lashed forward with his curved bone knife.

Sgaile spun low, sweeping with his leg, but Hkuan'duv hopped sidewise as Sgaile barely achieved his crouch. Before the Greimasg'ah's feet touched earth, Sgaile was up again, but he did not close on the master among his caste. He stood his ground, maintaining a defensive posture. He knew he could not win on pure skill against Hkuan'duv's experience and skills.

Hkuan'duv charged again, and his lunging foot slid forward along the ground.

Sgaile took a wide step left, folding his trailing leg, and kicked down at Hkuan'duv's face. The Greimasg'ah hit the ground in a straddle and slapped Sgaile's foot aside without pause. Sgaile swung that foot back, trying to pivot on the other one.

He twisted with both stilettos inward, shielding his abdomen. Hkuan'duv simply leaned out in his straddle and hooked Sgaile's grounded foot with his free hand.

Sgaile could not get his other foot down, and the Greimasg'ah's stab came an instant later than anticipated.

As Sgaile began to topple, a stiletto sank to the hilt in the side of his chest.

He choked, not out of pain or even fear of death, but from shame at failure in his oath.

He slashed out with his bone knife just before his back hit the earth. The impact drove the remaining breath from his lungs.

Sgaile felt blood choking him from within and could not breathe. All he could do was roll his head, searching for his opponent. Hkuan'duv had frozen, staring back in startled denial-and his free hand was clamped about his own throat.

Blood welled between his fingers.

Sgaile watched as if through someone else's eyes as Hkuan'duv fell over. The Greimasg'ah crumpled limp upon the wet sod.

Sgaile heard Osha's cry, and then blood welled in his throat, filling his mouth.

The world was already dark when Sgaile closed his eyes.

Wynn shuddered as Osha shouted, "Jeoin!"

The female elf froze and half-turned.

"Sgaile!" Leesil yelled.

Magiere charged the elven woman but never reached her target. Chap slammed into the woman's legs and both tumbled down the knoll. They hit the water and thrashed free of each other.

Wynn shoved Osha's arm aside, and ran out in the middle of them, screaming, "No more!"

The elven woman stood shin-deep in the murky water as she saw her fallen comrade. Osha reached Sgaile before Leesil and dropped to his knees beside his teacher. Magiere turned, ready to lunge downslope at the elven woman.

Wynn grabbed Magiere's sword arm with both hands, not knowing what else to do. Before she shouted another word, Osha's voice rose in Elvish.

"Is this the way of our caste?" he cried, pointing to the Greimasg'ah as he gripped Sgaile's still form. "Is this what Most Aged Father would want?"

The elven woman's blank gaze slipped from her fallen companion-but not to Osha. She glared at Wynn-and hatred overran her shock. She turned that hate on Magiere as she backed farther into the water.

"Kill her!" Magiere snapped. "Bring her down, Chap!"

Chap stalked after the woman, paws hammering through murky water.

"No!" Wynn shouted.

"Get off of me," Magiere snarled, and tried to shove Wynn away.

Wynn slipped her arms tightly around Magiere's waist and hung on with all her weight. "Chap, let her go!" she called.

She will tell her kind where we are! I will not allow this!

"They found us-they already know!" Wynn shouted back. "More killing will not change that!"

Chap slowed to a halt but did not turn. His whole body appeared to shake under his rumble.

Wynn saw horror spread over the elven woman's face.

The female anmaglahk shook her head once in denial or disbelief as she stared off toward the Greimasg'ah's limp form.

"Go!" Osha shouted, and his voice broke in pain. "Tell Father that the Greimasg'ah is dead… because he demanded Sgailsheilleache break his oath of guardianship… break with our people's own ways!"

Osha choked out these words as Magiere ceased struggling, and Wynn turned her head to look at the young elf.

Osha and Leesil knelt to either side of Sgaile. But as Leesil took Sgaile's face in his hands, Osha reeled, hanging his head over his teacher.

"Sgaile?" Leesil hissed. "Sgaile… look at me!"

Sgaile did not move, and Wynn stopped breathing.

"Tell Most Aged Father…," Osha went on with head bowed, his voice turning steady and low, "tell him how we spilled the blood of our own… and see what is left for us because of it!"

He swung his downcast head toward the elven woman but only raised his eyes to her. There was something on his face that Wynn had never seen there before.

Pure and naive, desperately longing to be Anmaglahk, Osha had never shown hate to anyone. But that was how he looked at the woman of his own caste and people.

"I will care for them both," he said to her. "Go, and wash your hands of our own blood… if you can!"

The woman turned and fled.

Chap made one lunge to follow but pursued no farther. Magiere lurched toward the knoll's shallow slope, dragging Wynn halfway before stopping.

"Let her go," Leesil said. "It's over."

Wynn let go of Magiere and ran to crouch beside Osha.

Sgaile's eyes were closed. Blood seeped from his slack mouth over Leesil's hands. A stiletto was buried to its hilt in the side of Sgaile's chest. Wynn put her hand on him.

"Sgailsheilleache," she whispered.

Osha's arms wrapped around her, pulling her away. She felt his tight, rigid body against her back as she watched Sgaile's face for any flutter of eyelid.

Leesil jerked the stiletto out, casting it blindly into the marsh. The gash on his face dripped blood off his chin. Like red tears, they struck the dank ground and vanished.

Wynn wished Sgaile would berate her for foolishness-just once more.

Leesil sat numbly within the shack, ignoring Wynn dabbing the blood from his face.

Sgaile was gone. So superstitious and stubborn, with all his blind faith in spirits and codes and customs… he was worth so much more than his oath of guardianship.

Leesil's wound wasn't deep, but with nothing to fully close it, Wynn could only wrap his head in a bandage from another shredded shirt. The wound would leave a marked scar, but she said he would suffer no permanent damage.

At least not in flesh, and he cared little about scars.

One more meant nothing, though this one would be prominent compared to the faded marks that Ratboy's fingernails had left on his jaw. By the time Wynn finished, Leesil heard someone hacking at wood outside of the shack.

He pushed Wynn's hands away and stepped out beneath a clouded sky.

Chap sat out front, still watching where the elven woman had run off. The dog turned as Leesil emerged and headed silently toward the shack's rear. Leesil followed and found Magiere and Osha there.

They had slashed away at the underbrush until both were soaked to their elbows and knees from the wet vegetation. In the cleared space's center, near the old man's fresh grave, lay Sgaile's body and that of the other anmaglahk. The two rested upon a pallet of the firewood taken from behind the shack.

"You don't wish to bury them?" Leesil asked.

Magiere began covering the bodies with brush. Osha halted but didn't look at Leesil.

"We bring body home when can," he said in broken Belaskian. "If cannot, then ashes… and if not ashes, then leave behind in hiding. But not bury."

Osha had cleaned their weapons and set these aside. Magiere halted suddenly, looking about with weary eyes.

"Not enough wood," she sighed. "Even green wood might help once the blaze gets going."

She headed for the shack's far rear corner and the willow rising above the structure. Before she could take a swing with the falchion, Osha seized her raised arm.

"No," he whispered and looked into the tree's branches. "Find other… not this one."

Magiere nodded, though she frowned in puzzlement and glanced to Leesil.

He had no idea what had spurred Osha's strange request.

"I will find some lamp oil," Wynn said, startling Leesil.

He hadn't even heard her approach, and turned as she headed away around the shack. Leesil pulled one winged blade, trying to find the driest reeds and brush.

When they'd made the best pyre they could, Wynn returned and poured oil from an old jar. She held out a burning brand taken from the stone hearth.

Osha shook his head. "Not yet."

Without knowing what to do, Leesil just stood with Magiere and Wynn as Chap settled beside them. Osha closed his eyes, speaking softly in Elvish.

"Hkuan'duv gan'Trai'earnneach, Greimasg'ah, d'me ag aharean eolhasas'na…"

Wynn began whispering in translation.

"Blackened Sea of the Iron Shore clan, Shadow-Gripper, whose parents I do not know…"

"…ag'us Sgailsheilleache a Oshagairea gan'Coilehkrotall… "

"…and Willow's Shade born out of Sudden-Breeze's Laugh of the Lichen Woods clan…"

Leesil lifted his eyes and looked to the sagging willow tree as Wynn continued.

"Mothers and Fathers of our people, seek them, siblings of the Anmaglahk and protectors of your descendants, the an'Croan-Those of the Blood…"

Leesil's mind filled with memories as Wynn went on.

"…Find their spirits and honor them, as they have honored you in a life of a service."

It seemed so long ago. Leesil had stood with Sgaile in the dark woods as they headed for the burial ground of the ancestors. He'd asked about the strange an'Croan obsession with seeking a second name in that place. He was only passing time in their brief pause to eat. And when he'd questioned Sgaile, concerning his name supposedly given by these ghosts, Sgaile had never answered completely. But the conversation now stuck in Leesil's mind.

"So you had some other name before Sgaile?" Leesil had asked.

"Sgailsheilleache," he'd corrected. "It means 'In Willow Shade or Shadow."

When Leesil had pressed for more information concerning Sgaile's vision before his ancestors, all the man had said was…

"Something far off, far from this land… in the shade of a willow."

At the crackle of fire, Leesil lowered his eyes from the willow tree.

Smoke billowed as oil-sparked flames fought to catch on wet wood. Osha tossed the brand he'd used to light them atop the pyre and continued whispering the same words over and over.

"I call, my voice for theirs," Wynn softly translated. "Ancestors… take them home."

Leesil tried not to think of…

Sgaile's own name-taking vision, hinting of when and where he would die…

Or a ghostly image of some other Leesil, standing in the ancestors' clearing, cowled in the gray-green of the Anmaglahk.

Leesil… Leshil… whose taken name was Leshiarelaohk-Sorrow-Tear's Champion.

Visions were lies, nothing more. Not fate. Not ever.

Magiere watched the flames fighting to consume their fuel. They needed to move on, and soon. She didn't trust that the one fleeing anmaglahk would simply give up. As much as she hated to ask, she did.

"How long?"

Osha breathed deeply and exhaled with an effort. "Until ashes."

Magiere nodded and kept quiet. When Wynn looked at her sadly, she regretted saying anything at all.

Leesil gazed into the flames.

His brow wrinkled. His eyes narrowed and turned hard, like stones baked in the fire's heat. The muscles at the back of his jaw bulged, and she heard the creak of leather. His gloved hand closed in a tight fist and wouldn't release.

Magiere stepped behind him. She slipped her hands under his arms and around his chest, and rested her chin upon his shoulder.

"In Willow's Shade," Leesil murmured. "That's what Sgaile's name meant."

One of his hands closed down hard on Magiere's against his chest- until her fingers ached-but she didn't pull away.

"We won't forget him," she whispered.