The Lesser Kindred

XV And the Walls of the World Came Scattering Down

It was the strangest of journeys. We set off from the inn at Wolfenden in the early afternoon, and the rest of the day was bright and warm. We walked together, the seven humans and Salera at Will's side, exchanging stories. I learned how Will and Salera had met, and Lanen and I told them a short version of our own meeting. It made the time pass easily. We camped in the shelter of a small wood that night and woke early in the morning to the most extraordinary day.

Overnight, winter seemed to have given up the battle and early spring had leapt up all around us. The small flowers, the ground roses, that were fighting to bloom in Kaibar were here full-blown. I would have expected the year to regress as we walked higher into the hills but it did not. Will assured me that as we went higher, towards the high field that was the pass through these hills, the shoulder of the sharp pinnacles of rock ahead would be cold enough for my taste. Indeed, I could see snow fingering on some of the peaks, but at least in their lower reaches it seemed that the Sulkith Hills were disposed to be kindly. Lanen showed me as we walked the brilliant red and yellow blooms on their short stalks, and in a warm and quiet dell blessed by sunlight, the fragrant queen's chamber, a many-blossomed purple spike of a flower, scented the air. Strange, is it not, that it should be the flowers that I remember? In the midst of my sorrow for my lost kindred, in the depths of my acceptance and my grief and in the joy of the new and deeper peace Lanen and I had made, it is the strong colours of spring in the mountains that most affected me.

Lanen walked beside me, unusually silent. The feelings between us were not simple nor could they ever be again, but in turning to face the darkness ,we had overcome the worst of it. She knew at last, truly knew in her soul, that she was not to blame for the change the Winds had thrown upon me— and so, at last, did I. And now she was changed as well, of her own free will, to a strange hybrid creature—nearly as strange as I—there was much to take into both of our hearts and consider, of gifts and bereavement, of death and life and the rningling of souls.

I remember the flowers.

I had my wings tucked close in, the surface as small as I could make it. The winds of the eternal Storms that blow between Kolmar and our island were ever potent and threatening. The flying was difficult to say the least.

I had left Idai only a day past. We had found that most of the Kantri were willing to rest for a little time before undertaking the second and more dangerous half of the journey, especially as the rain had stopped and the sun shone, and even that little green rock felt safer than the unknown perils of Kolmar for many of us.

I declared that I would go on ahead to learn what I could of the effects of the Storm winds and to meet with Lanen and Varien, that we might discuss how best to prepare the Gedri for the return of the Kantri. Idai frowned at me and told me that her thoughts would be open to me day and night. It was an extraordinary offer, to be open and listening for days on end. She has always had much of generosity about her, the Lady Idai.

However, at that particular moment I would have exchanged all the generosity in the world for a body beside me in the air. Two can read the currents better than one and I felt very alone, high above the wind-whipped seas. Every muscle was aching from carrying Nikis the Weary—I had heard her so referred to by others now, the poor soul—but thus far they all served me still.

I had left at dawn and encountered the Storms only an hour from the Isle of Rest. It had been a long day of effort, followed by an endless night of work, striving to keep high enough that when the air dropped suddenly away it did not bring me too near the water. I was weary beyond belief, which would explain why I was so foolish as to relax my vigilance when the headwind dropped for a moment. I let out my breath and allowed my wings to lock, just for a moment's rest—

—when a wall of air rose up like a wall of stone before me. I was thrown on to my back, and though I managed to turn over and glide up and out of the drop, my right wing was throbbing in the main joint. It had not broken, thank the Winds, but the pain ran deep. I had no choice, days from land in any direction, I had to use it.

I was most fortunate. I found that the wall of air I had hit was the trailing edge of the Storms. I forced myself higher, every beat of my wings sending out a jolt of pain.

I was glad then that Idai was not there, for I could not restrain myself. With no other soul near me to pity or assist, I cried out with every downbeat. It made it a little easier to bear, but I began genuinely to wonder if, injured, I could go so far alone.

There is no choice, Teacher-Shikrar, I told myself. You have taken this task to yourself on behalf of the Kantri and you are hours from land in any direction. Wind and life or sea and a slow cold death, Shikrar!

That choice was simple enough. I drew in a great breath and roared out my pain to the Winds as I forced myself higher. Kolmar lies ahead, Kolmar and Akhor and a new life. It is well. I stopped talking to myself long enough to adjust my angle of rise. Besides, I told myself, if you think Nikis faces years of laughter at her expense, imagine what would come your way should you fail in this flight. Name of the Winds! You would give every soul you ever lectured about flying the chance to taunt you for the rest of your days.

It seemed to take years to reach the High Air, but it was my only chance. Every time I had to lower my wing I cried out. Eventually I fell silent, for me air was growing thin, but the pain did not lessen.

I knew that my life depended on gaining altitude. I would have given ten years of my future for a rising thermal, but the cold sea ran below me unfeeling, uncaring, cold watery death awaiting me.

We can swim, of course. In the summer we enjoy the water, and in truth it was known that flying very close to the surface took less effort—but I dared not risk it, for it is impossible to take to the air from the water's clutches. If once I touched the sea, I was dead.

The thought sent me higher yet. I may be the Eldest of the Kantri, but in the normal way of things I had still before me a good two more kells of life, and I had a strong desire to see my grandson fly.

When at last I found the broad river on high, when at the end of my strength I caught the edge of that strong wave and could ride it with locked wings, I learned what I needed to know. It led me swiftly and easily over the top of the Storms and that terrible wall of air. I bespoke Idai and told her, that she might guide the others through more gently than I had managed.

Ahead in a clearing sky the winds dropped and the wave in the High Air disappeared, but as I glided down I found another current leading eastwards that was strong enough to bear me. I rode it, wings locked, giving thanks, breathing again. My injured wing throbbed but I was better able to bear it when I could glide and did not have to stroke the air.

The absence of pain seems a simple thing until you possess it no longer.

Once I started allowing myself to glide, however, I found it desperately hard to think. I held on to the little that I knew—according to the Ancestors, I had just over a day's flying yet to accomplish. I was weary to the bone, but I knew I would have to seek height again as soon as I had rested. Just a little rest, just a little, now that the pain was gone—

"Shikrar? Hadreshikrar, it is Idai who speaks. How fare you, my friend?"

I woke with a start to Idai's voice. I was flying through a cloud and was terribly disoriented, but from the pressure I feared that I was far lower than I should be. In the few moments it took me to rouse, the air had grown a great deal rougher. Strange, I thought, this feels like the turbulence you get when water meets—

I came out of the cloud and hit first a powerful updraft that carried me safely up and over the cliff that rose high above the water's edge, and then encountered the downdraft on the other side which threw me unceremoniously to the ground.

Not the welcome I was expecting, I thought briefly as the darkness took me.

I found them halfway up the mountain. They were a long way ahead of me, down a valley and up another hillside from where I stood, and there were more of them than I expected. I saw one that I assumed was Varien, for his silver hair was hard to miss in sunlight, but I knew Lanen the instant I saw her even from that far away.

At last, at last, that stopped me where I stood.

How in the Lady's name could I possibly be certain of that distant moving speck being Lanen?

I looked again. I could not tell how many people there were—more than four. There were at least three horses, but there might have been four or five. There was a strange creature with them at first, though it left as the sun was going down. It moved very fast. It might have been a light chestnut horse, I couldn't really tell. But I knew Lanen was mere, and which of the tiny dots she was.

That was not possible.

I tried to think what might make me feel so certain. I felt pity for the girl, certainly, but there was no bond between us. I had asked for Lady Shia's aid but this did not feel like divine guidance. My gut wrenched at the thought of the goddess and I could not think clearly.

I drew food from my pack, for it was growing dark and I would have to stop. From what I could see the others were setting up their camp; I saw fire spring forth, friendly and welcoming on mat far hillside. The longing grew in me to go there, to speak to Lanen again, to warn her, to be with good people again—to warm my hands and my heart at that fire.

At the very thought I was doubled over with cramp. I could not stand or walk long enough to gamer wood for my own fire. The cold food helped, but my gut was dreadfully painful. Enough, I thought, I must do something about this. After I had eaten and rested a while, I sent a prayer to the Lady and summoned my healer's power to me.

There is a kind of half-trance that accompanies healing. I was so weak that my own corona made me dizzy, but I fought the feeling and called in my power. Only the faintest nimbus answered me. I drew on it, weak as I was, to help heal the pain in my belly, but the slightest effort swiftly exhausted me. The pain was as bad or worse after I had finished.

I sat propped against a stone with thin blankets wrapped about me to keep out the night, but the cold and the pain were sharpening my mind.

Finally.

The very things that beset me were making me realise that all was wrong. All. Everything I had done since I left Ver-faren made no sense. I had meant to go east and north, and I had done that, but at a snail's pace and towards no destination. I hadn't eaten for days—foolishness. And the sudden urge, no, the need to find Lanen and warn her—how in the name of the Mother had I had even the slightest idea of where to go?

I shivered, not with cold. For I had found her, in all the great world I had found her in a matter of days. That was sickeningly not right. What was guiding me? What was pushing me, and why?

I shivered again as a pain cramped across my gut. Oh dear Goddess, sweet Lady Shia—ahhh!

Oh Hells' teeth. The pain hit me worse every time I prayed, or even thought sincerely of Shia—a spasm clenched me even as I realised.

I drew in my power again, ignoring the weakness that demanded I stop at the appearance of the merest nimbus. I am a Healer of the third rank, I can heal broken bones in minutes, knit torn flesh, relieve fevers—I. had saved Lanen's life when she was very near to death indeed.

It was a struggle, but finally at least a useful portion of my corona surrounded me. I gathered my courage as I had gathered my power and looked with the healing sight into my own body.

I spewed forth my meagre meal and kept heaving long after there was nothing more to come. No one should have to see that in themselves. Oh Mother, oh kind and blessed Lady of the ground below and the water around and the moon in her gentleness above, keep me man alive long enough to fight back.

Wrapped around my gut, with claws in my spine and a spiked tail flicking back and forth, was a demon. I had not called it, I had not allowed it into my soul much less my body, it had been put there against my will. By Berys, of course.

I had heard of such things, but I had never believed that it could—it never happens to you, does it? It was a Sending. A major demonwork that cost the summoner dear one way or another, but not nearly as much as it cost the chosen host.

There was no way to be rid of the thing. It was the cause and the force behind the compulsion that had made no sense. I didn't know why Berys wanted me to track Lanen, to be near her when she stopped, but I "knew" it was something I had to do. No, I corrected myself. It was something that Berys, through the demon, wanted me to do.

The only way to be rid of a Sending is to kill it where it sits, but the victim cannot do it for himself, for the demon will sense the threat and stop the muscles from completing it. If I could not find anyone to kill it for me, I would simply have to wait for it to become active and kill me when it emerged. A Sending is death one way or another. For me, it would have to be the worse of the two.

It was a terrible moment, that realisation, alone in the cold on that barren hillside, without even the comfort of a fire. But I resolved the very next instant, with every fibre of my being, with all the strength of my soul, that I would fight its every move and deny it to the limit of my strength. That might not last very long, but every delay was a gain, a victory over that which would destroy me in the end no matter what I tried to do. At the least I would go down fighting.

I had just made that decision when a wave of unbearable pain swept through me and I fell senseless to the ground.

I dreamt of fire and darkness.

When the sky darkened I left them. Every moment with Him was a joy, but I was called also to be with my brothers and sisters. I ran for a little time when I left them until I found a good jumping-off place, and then I flew high in the dying light until I crossed the sharp teeth of stone and came again to the high field where we had gathered.

I knew joy at seeing them again, so many of us in one place. More had come even in the last few days. I had never dreamed there were so many of us. I remember looking to see if any of the Hollow Ones had come, but I saw none. I greeted those I had flown with, those I knew best of these my newfound kinfolk.

We did not know why we were there, it was joy to be together, but we did not wonder at the "why." I tried to shape sound at some of them. I spoke the sound that was me, and the impossible sound that was Him, and tried again the noise of the Silver One who wore the wrong body. I think some tried to speak after me, but we were not used to such things and it was so hard then.

I looked up at the moon, older now and moving towards the full, and smiled at the smiling face that gazed down at me. They would come, the next day they would come, and all would be well. I drank, and slept, and missed Him even while I dreamed in the midst of my own people.

Salera left us at twilight on the second day, but I watched her hurrying upwards and guessed we'd meet her at the pass. We had made good time—the shelter of the high field was no more than a long morning's walk from here. It would be a good place to stop, and from there it was an easy day's journey to Rowanbeck.

Jamie, Rella and I were in the lead, mounted when the road was not too steep, leading the horses when it was. The two of them divided their time between bouts of scouting ahead and around, and bouts of old-fashioned chattering. They had both done a great deal with their lives and I was happy enough simply to listen much of the time.

I hadn't forgotten the two in my care. Aral quite happily spent the journey walking with me, walking with Vilkas, and pestering Varien and Lanen. Their story amazed her and she spoke to them about it as long as they could bear. Lanen eventually had enough and sent her away, kindly but firmly. Aral didn't seem to mind.

The one I worried about was Vilkas. He had kept to himself even more than usual, and even Aral had trouble getting through to him at first. Aral had told me what had happened, that Vil had managed to tap into some of the great store of power that he hid even from himself. It seemed to me a cause for rejoicing, but Vilkas seemed to spend an awful long time thinking about it.

By the time we lit a fire that night I found myself shivering, deep inside. I was pleased to be going home but there was more to it than that. I couldn't tell if it was fear or anticipation or just plain cold, but as the night went on every part of me took up the shaking. I felt like a bee sounds in a clover field. It wasn't anything you could see, but it kept me awake most of the night. I wasn't the only one.

I walked along in silence for most of the journey. I was aware of a growing wrongness in the air and almost mentioned it, but I have learned over the years to conceal my feelings. I could have been mistaken. It might simply have been the altitude. Besides, I was in the midst of trying to understand so much all at once that I might only have been sensing my own roiling emotions. Aral spent a little time with me, enough to realise that I was restraining myself. She occasionally dropped back to walk with me in companionable silence, for which I was grateful, and once she muttered something along the lines of "You're doing well, Vil. I know it's hard, but best to wait until we can stop for a while." It did not make things any easier, but it was gratifying that she was aware of my self-control.

In fact she had no idea how controlled I really was. It had been simple enough for her to tell me to let loose my power that night, but I was the one who had actually done it. The thought still made me shake inside.

I had dared to harness the sky god, or forced me Death of the World to do something useful if you looked at it that way. I had undone the work of a decade to meet Lanen's desperate need, and not only had both the world and I survived, it had worked.

I was still in a kind of shock. It was not possible to do what I had done. I had changed that woman's blood to some unheard-of mixture of human and dragon and she was still alive. That wasn't possible. I felt that I was walking simultaneously in two worlds, the one that surrounded me at the moment, and the other in which reason had its way and she lost the children or died or both. Those were the only possible outcomes of her condition. At best I might have helped her to live, but the babes would die and life would go on.

That hadn't happened. I had let loose more of my power that night man I had dared to use for many years and the woman lived and would bear her children. What they might become I could not imagine, but that they would live was my responsibility.

Deep within me, where I could just bear to listen to it now, arose the thought that I might just be able to accept my power and use it, all of it—

All of it —and choose the way of the sky god after all. Lanen was a good person. With just a portion of that power I had kept her and her children alive and healthy.

What is the point of being the Death of the World in any case?

There's never anyone around to see you succeed.

By the time we camped the second night I had come to my own peace with what had happened, but I appeared to be in the minority. Will volunteered to take the first watch and we let him; anyone could see he had no chance of sleeping. Lanen and Varien weren't far behind. Only Rella and Jamie seemed to sleep well that night. I wondered if anyone's conscience could be that clear.

Aral had come and sat beside me when the fire was starting to die down. "Vil, I know you feel it," she said softly. "What in all the Hells is going on?"

"If I knew that I'd do my damnedest to do something about it so I could get some rest," I replied. "I've been trying to ignore the lot of you for hours now. You are a dear friend, Aral, but please, I haven't recovered yet from that healing session." It was a polite lie, but still it was better than simply asking her to go away. She raised an eyebrow at me, expressed dubious sympathy and left.

I lay down and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the atmosphere. Ever try to sleep through a night filled with a wildly raging wind? It was much the same thing.

Dawn couldn't come too soon. I had managed a few hours' sleep at the tail end of the night, but I woke feeling more weary than when I went to sleep and Varien wasn't much better. The misty grey morning didn't help any of us— we all woke slightly damp and a lot colder than we had been. Will had kept the fire going all night, which was a blessing. I wondered how he managed—he said he hadn't had a wink of sleep but he seemed more alert than the rest of us.

Oh—except for the old campaigners. Rella woke with her usual stiff back, which Jamie was learning to loosen; he said his side was paining him, but I caught his eye. "You're just out for any sympathy going," I said, laughing at him over my second mug of chelan.

"You know me too well," he said, stretching. "Next time I'm leaving you behind."

I would have kept on teasing him but to my astonishment Idai's voice interrupted me. "Varien? Lanen? May I bespeak you?"

"Of course, Idai," replied Varien, who had taken to wearing his circlet at all times. "What is the trouble I hear in your thoughts?"

"Have you heard from Hadreshikrar?" she asked, and now even I could hear the concern in her mind-voice. "I bespoke him just now and I heard him begin to respond, but after that came only silence."

"I have heard nothing, Lady," said Varien. I was staring at him, completely confused, but he took my hand and muttered aloud, "Not now, I will tell you in a moment."

"I take it you fear for him," he added in truespeech.

"He should have been there by now, Akhor," said Idai. I managed to keep back a yelp, but not very well. Fortunately, Idai heard nothing but Varien's voice reassuring her. "We will find him if we can, Lady," he said. "Shikrar has not called to us either—perhaps he rests after his journey?"

"That might be, Akhor, but I like it not that I cannot hear him. I pray you, take the time to find him, and rouse him if you can."

"We will do what we can," said Varien. He winced, and I realised that his head must be throbbing now with the pain of traespeech. It seemed worse for him at the moment than it was for me, and I found it hard enough.

"We thank you, Lady, for letting us know your concern. Let us all seek him and who finds him first tell the others," I said, and released the link as she agreed.

Varien took off the circlet and rubbed his temples, grimacing.

I just stared at him. Eventually he looked up at me. "What do you—ah," he said.

"Ah, indeed," I said, not knowing whether to be amused or annoyed or delighted. "How long have you known that Shikrar was on his way here?"

I gathered from the subdued spluttering noises that Rella had overheard.

"I have only known that for—ah—Lanen, in my fear for your safety I have neglected to tell you—a great deal has been happening among the Kantri of late," he ended lamely, looking for all the world like a small child who has forgotten to carry out its mother's errand. "Lanen—perhaps you should sit down." He smiled then, almost a mischievous grin. "It is a truth and it is most definitely spiky. In fact, it is also horned, tailed and taloned, and it is not he, it is they."

"They?" I asked weakly. "They who?"

Not to be outdone, Rella moved up to join us and added swiftly, "They who what?"

"They who will arrive here in Kolmar in a short time, although I know not precisely when. If Idai is correct, Shikrar should be here already."

"Who are they?' I all but shouted.

"The Kantri," he said, almost as if he did not believe it himself. "The Kantrishakrim, my people of old. They are coming here. The Dragon Isle, as you call it, is overrun with fire and ash and would have killed them all if they had stayed. There is nowhere else for them to go. They are coming here. The Kantri are coming to Kolmar."

I would have bet that six people could not stand silent that long for anything, and I would have lost.

When I could breathe again I laughed, long and loud. One of the Healers sent what I suspect was a treatment for shock to all of us, but I kept laughing.

"Either tell us what's so funny or stop cackling like an old hen," said Jamie dryly.

"Berys—it's Berys," I gasped out. "Oh, Lady, I'd give a year's wages to see his face when he finds out!" The others waited. "Don't you see?" I said, "He's got all his hopes pinned on his demons, that's the one thing he has that almost no one can challenge, and now—hahaha!—oh, now the creatures who can get rid of the damned things with a breath are coming here and there's nothing he can do about it! Oh, it's wonderful!"

Well, that seemed to cheer everyone up. I kept laughing on and off for an hour or so, while we got moving. Trust Varien to forget to mention it to anyone!

Seems my friend Shikrar was going to be the first to arrive. I had spent more time with his son Kedra than with him, but I respected Shikrar. He was a fair soul. The only problem was that he was a fair soul in an absolutely huge body. He was half again the size of his son. He had been fine on the Dragon Isle, but I was having a hard time imagining him in Kolmar. He seemed to be made to a different scale entirely. Still, see him in Kolmar I would, if they could find him. According to Lanen and Varien there was no sign yet.

The cloudy morning brought in a sunny day, like the old songs say. I was glad of it as well, my bones aren't as young as they used to be and the cold was getting into them. Still, I walked rather man rode all morning as we went higher and higher. It was getting colder, and the air a bit thinner too, when Will pointed up ahead and said, "At last! That's the entrance to the high field."

"Not a minute too soon, I'm starved," said Lanen cheerfully. "But where, Will? I don't see any entrance, just more rocks."

He grinned at her. "That's the beauty of it. Unless you know it's here you'd never find it—follow me." He mounted one of the horses and went on a little ahead, and before our eyes he seemed to disappear into the rocks. I thought it would be easier to see the entrance as we came closer, but until we were right on top of it you'd have sworn there was nothing there but stubborn rock. We went in, one by one, leading the horses between us—it was a narrow entrance— and found ourselves in a great round green field surrounded by high rock. At the end farthest from the entrance and a bit to the left there was a small wood, but it was half hidden by one of the two spurs of black rock mat curved down from the high walls into the green grass. They almost looked like great ramps, dwindling swiftly to nothing from the great height of their origins in the cliffs and mingling with the ground.

All this I saw in the first moment—it's the Service training, you get used to looking for the lay of the land and a quick way out. I saw no exit at first glance, and then I stopped looking.

The whole place was brimful of Saleras.

When I wakened I was already walking, down the valley, up the far hill, following. I did not remember rising or taking food, and I did not have my pack with me. Alone, then, without aid, without even the most basic necessities, I began the war.

At first it was not so hard. A little delay here, a forced rest there where I did not need one, anything that would slow it down and keep it from its goal. It wanted me to walk quickly so I concentrated on walking slowly. I learned then that if I thought of my fight in the abstract I would lose it—"walking slowly" could speed up without my noticing it until I was at the speed the demon wanted. So I took each step, each single step, and slowed it down. I forced myself to concentrate on every single step.

Sweet Shia, it was hard. Still, from the way the demon fought back I must have been accomplishing something, so I bent all my will to it.

I had worked hard to become the best Healer I could be, taking my natural talent to its utmost limit through study and perseverance. It had been difficult but I had learned a great deal about bending my own will to a task until it was completed. That training stood me in good stead now, when every step took concentration and dedication. The demon fought, of course, but I used one of the techniques we were taught to overcome its first struggles. If the Healer is wounded he cannot work as well, so we learn first to heal ourselves. If there is no time for that, there is still a way to ' distance yourself from your own pain. I used that distance now to protect myself, though I knew that I would pay for it later.

I nearly laughed. The habit of life is so strong! For me there would be very little "later."

I discovered then the truth of the old saying that he who has nothing to lose is most to be feared, for he fears nothing. To prove the point I stood still, ignoring the desperate demands of the demon, concentrating on simply gazing about me on the new-blown spring, hearing the song of the small birds, breathing in the clear air filled with the spices of life and living. I stood on that sunlit hillside and wept, but not from the pain.

The sheer beauty of life was all around me, and I stole a moment in the midst of the struggle with death to rejoice in the wonder and glory of the world that surrounded me before I was forced to leave it.

The Lesser Kindred stood assembled all before us. The high field was full of them, of every imaginable hue from old iron to Salera's bright copper. We were all struck dumb with wonder.

Salera stood forth to greet us, Will first—a nudge of her nose and a happy "Hooirrr," then she came to me, bowed and said "Hffrfarrriann." There was no mistaking it. She knew my name. She was so near to speaking it hurt. I could not help myself, I reached out to her again with truespeech.

"Come, littling. You are so close, Salera! lam Varian, you know what names are and you can learn—oh, my sweet cousin, hear me, make that last step, so small after all you have done!"

There was no response. Lanen took me by the shoulder. "Come, my dear, we have walked long this morning and the sun is nearly overhead. There is food and drink."

"You do not understand," I said, trembling. "This is not the way of these creatures. I was told they lived lonely lives, in ones and twos, scattered...."

She looked at me with a crooked grin on her face. "I do understand. I live here, remember? But I also understand that you didn't have any breakfast, and if you don't get some food inside you soon, you are going to fall over. That wouldn't be setting a very good example, would it?"

I looked at her. Her eyes were shining bright as mine, she knew, she truly did know how astounding a thing this was. She also knew the limitations of a human form better than I. When she put a thick slice of bread and cheese into my hand I ate ravenously, washing it down with water from the little stream in the wood. Lanen had carried that water, followed all the way there and back by curious creatures who closely watched her every move. It was strange to do so everyday a thing as breaking bread in such a place, but it was right as well.

When we had finished our rapid meal it was the height of the day. I had been calling out to Shikrar regularly through the morning, as often as the painful use of truespeech allowed, and had no reply. My fears for him were growing, and I decided to make one final attempt before—before whatever the Winds had planned took place. I put my whole heart and soul into the summons.

"Shikrar! Hadreshikrar, my friend, where art thou? I fear for thee, soulfriend, thou hast been silent too long. Speak to me, rouse thyself from sleep or injury, speak to me!"

To my intense relief I heard his voice, fainter than usual but very much alive.

"I hear thee, my friend! Blessed be the Winds, I am here! I stand on Kolmar—albeit rather shakily, if truth be told. I have injured my wing. I can yet fly, but it is painful."

"Shikrar! Blessed be the Winds indeed. Where are you?"

"A moment, my friend, let me look. Ah. I am on a high grassy cliff at the sea's edge. I know not whether I am north or south of the Gedri lands, but all the land is untouched about me. Where are you?"

"In the southern half of Kolmar, below a great river that divides the land in two," I said. "If you can bear it, take to the air and you will see that river if you are anywhere near. South of it and away west there are high hills that lie between two great cities. I am in those hills, on a high green field—there cannot be another like it. And oh, Shikrar, it passes belief—the Lesser Kindred are here!"

"What do you say?!" he roared, his mindvoice sparkling with wonder.

I laughed. "You heard me right, my friend, the Lesser Kindred. We have found them—or they have found us. Shikrar, they are so close to sentience!"

"Have you tried to bespeak them?" he asked excitedly.

"I have, my friend. They are silent yet, but they are nearly able to speak aloud. One, Salera, has learned to say my name. They are so near, Shikrar! Come, find us, my friend," I pleaded. Now that I heard his voice and knew him near it was almost physical pain to be separated longer. And I knew my Shikrar. "Perhaps you will be able to teach them."

He laughed. Blessed be his name, he laughed with delight. "Akhor, to see the Lesser Kindred I would crawl on four broken legs. What signifies a slight injury to a wing? I will find you if I have to smell you out!"

"The Winds attend your flight," I said, astonishment and joy dulling the swift, sharp pain of truespeech. "Come soon, my brother."

"I come, my soulfriend. I come."

He would find us from the air, and he would come. It was well. I turned to Lanen. "Did you—"

"I heard, my dear." She took my hand. "Let us go among them, Varien. I have the strangest feeling. Come."

The great crowd of the Lesser Kindred opened before us and closed behind as we were carefully observed. All of us moved among them, submitting to curious sniffs and strange noises. I tried with all my will to understand what they might be saying, but to no avail. And finally, in the centre of that great field, we met with Salera once more. She stood before us and would not let us pass, moving swiftly to stand before us, stretching her wings out to stop us from passing by.

"What is it, my lass?" asked Will. He reached out to touch her, but she would not let him. Instead she turned to me. "Hffffarriann," she said. "Sssaahhrrrairrrah."

And she moved her head on her long neck, reached out and touched my soulgem with her nose. "Sssaahhrrrairrrah."

I shivered. I felt with every mote of my being that something astounding was at hand. The world seemed to shrink, and for that time all of existence consisted of Lanen, Salera and me. Lanen was shaking as I was, a swift internal shiver that brought a blush to her cheeks and fire to her eyes.

I tried to bespeak Salera again, almost out of habit—it is the way my people communicate—but Lanen stopped me after the first word. "No, Varien. That is too far ahead. Start further back." She indicated the raised lump on Salera's faceplate. "Start here." I reached out to touch Salera's face. She stood bravely still as my skin touched her armour. A swift jangling ran up my arm and I withdrew my hand instantly. "There is something there, you have the right of it—but I do not understand, I touched her faceplate before and there was nothing—" I began.

"You weren't wearing your soulgem then," Lanen reminded me quietly. "Could it be as simple as that?"

"As what? The touch of my hand on her face affects us both, but—"

"No. Not with your hand," she said. Her voice was strange and filled with awe, almost as if she spoke for another in that strange close-focused world that held only the three of us. "So simple. If this works—"

"Lanen?" I asked.

"Your soulgem," she said, placing her hand delicately on Salera's neck. "Varien, touch that raised part of her face with your soulgem, while you are wearing it."

"That is a gesture between parent and child only, Lanen," I said.

"Yes, I know," she said calmly. She sounded so certain.

I was trembling so that I could barely stand but I did as she said. I leaned over in the intimate contact that is normally restricted to mothers and younglings, and touched with my soulgem the place where hers should be. Again, the contact all but set off sparks, but—

There was nothing. I sighed and dropped my head against hers in sorrow, my soulgem still against the place where hers was not. So near, so near, my beautiful cousin, I thought sadly. Alas, I had such hopes of this meeting! Perhaps in another year, or another ten, or—

And then Lanen, who was touching Salera, put her hand on my shoulder to comfort me.

A raging fire swept through me in the instant, all-encompassing but not destructive. It roared through my mind, dizzying, spinning, as thoughts and words and ideas—as if they were looked at and recognised and returned. I was dizzy on the instant, so I focused as I always had—through my soulgem, which still touched Salera. The fire gathered itself from all the corners of my mind and sprang like flame from breath to kindling, through my soulgem to her. In moments I felt the swift heat returning to me and had to stand away from her.

It was too late. The hard covering of the raised lump was burning, and Salera was crying out in pain. Will, Vilkas and Aral were suddenly with us—though they might have been standing near the whole time for all I knew. Will put his arms about Salera, not knowing what else to do in the face of that dreadful burning armour.

Vilkas was suddenly blazing even in the midday sun. Aral stood beside him not nearly as bright until she drew forth from the pouch about her neck the soulgem of that lost Kantri. The instant it touched her skin she cried out and took Vilkas's hand. Together they reached out to heal, to save Salera from the burning, to quench the fire around—

Around her soulgem.

The burning stopped once the new soulgem was free of its prison. The Healers sealed the raw skin around it and took away her pain. I was astounded that they could think of such a thing. I was also astounded that their healing worked on the Kantri, but I did not think of that until long afterwards.

We all gazed in awe, in disbelief at the gleaming gem, bright blue in the sun like Salera's eyes, as she turned from us to look directly at Will. He was standing behind, he had only heard her cries, and could do nothing but stand by her and hold her against the pain of the fire, as he had done from the first.

He gasped, amazed, when he saw the brilliant blue in the centre of her copper face. She turned to face him, sat up on her back legs, looked into his eyes, and said softly, "Ffa-therrr."

"Salera," he replied, his voice breaking over her name. Without more words she rested her great head on his shoulder and he put his arms about her neck.

I could have beheld them thus for hours, but I was not allowed. Something nudged my arm.

I turned to find a creature much smaller than Salera gazing up at me. He was grey as steel, with a fine healthy sheen to his scales. He nudged my arm again.

I turned to where Lanen stood gazing in rapt astonishment at Will and Salera. "Your pardon, dearling," I said smiling. "I think our task is not quite over."

She looked around and down at the importunate youngling, then around the high field, full to overflowing with the Lesser Kindred, then back at me and grinned. "Thank the Lady we ate, Varien. I've a feeling it's going to be a long day!"

The hours swept by in a confused swirl of minds and fire. Now that I knew something of what was coming, I was better able to allow the questing soul to see my thoughts and take what it needed of language and some basic learning. In the hours that followed I became reasonably adept at it. We also found that if Lanen was touching us both before I let my soulgem rest on the littling's faceplate, it was less of a shock for all of us.

Lanen and the others forced me to stop at intervals to rest, to eat, but I could no more sleep than I could deny my aid to any of these who asked it of me. It struck me in those brief moments of rest that this must be some jest of the Winds. I was very much aware of the fact that I was giving to these wondrous, gleaming new creatures that which I no longer possessed myself.

Did I envy them? Deeply.

Was I jealous of them? Completely and absolutely.

Did I ever consider not assisting them? Not for a single instant. My jealousy and my envy were genuine and I could not ignore them, and I did not, but they were overwhelmed entirely, as a candle by the dawn, by the vast joy that lifted my heart each time a new soulgem was revealed. Ruby, sapphire, opal, topaz yellow, emerald green like my own, as various as the colours and temperaments of the creatures who now bore them.

The only other thing I remember happened not long after the sun had gone down. We were resting for a few stolen moments and the moon was high now and bright, when of a

sudden the new-made ones took to the air with breaths of flame and danced aloft in the moonlight, singing their delight, their joy and wonder with voices never used before.

That moment is graven in my heart forever. Come death, come life, come sorrow deep as time or joy to move mountains, still the vision of that bright young race aloft for the first time, rejoicing in air with the brilliant moonlight flashing from their soulgems like so many flying stars—the piercing beauty of that moment is mine forever.

And then another importunate head touched me on the shoulder and we all were needed again. At times I felt every one of my thousand years, like an ancient tree giving life by its death—at times I was renewed, body and spirit, by the gratitude and the honour done me by the new-found souls.

I did not notice time or light, cold or weariness. I only know that by the time the last soul found its freedom and had bowed its thanks to me, before turning rejoicing to its kindred, true dawn was upon us. I looked up, seeing for the first time since—"Name of the Winds, Lanen, has it been so long?"

"Since what?" she asked wearily.

"Salera was brought to herself just past midday—"

"Yesterday," sighed Lanen, and she smiled at me. "You have been like a man possessed, my heart. And quite right." She looked out, as I did, in wonder at the first day of the new lives of the Lesser Kindred. "While one soul ached in silent darkness, we could not stop," she whispered.

I stood and stretched, stiffness catching me in a hundred places as I sought to stand upright. Lanen laughed, a clear laugh straight from the heart, and I joined her. There was no other way to release the soul-deep wonder, the sheer glory of it all. We laughed and kissed and hugged and laughed again, until the very stones rang with it.

And behold, there was yet more to tell Shikrar.

By nightfall I had reached only the outer ring of stone. The demon within me was certain that Lanen was just beyond and it pushed me to scrabble around the stones, looking for a way in. It was dark, which favoured me. I was caught up in the fight and I was prevailing, for the moment, when the Sending used me single worst weapon it possessed.

Despair.

It showed me images of hideous death. My death. I saw in that dark place a rain of fire over the beauty that had so blessed me earlier, a vision of all I loved or had ever loved come to nothing, and finally of my own body rotting on a hillside, untended, uncared for, food for worms and ravens.

That was the battle. There, alone among the cold stones, outside anything that might be happening in the circle of life beyond, I fought with all the lonely strength of my spirit to overcome despair, whose talons are sharper than swords and whose breath of fire is straight from the deepest hell. If ever I began to overcome it would torment me afresh with dark visions of death and ending. Almost I gave in, almost I stopped fighting, but I was learning that the fight itself fuelled a will in me that strove still.

Then a sound distracted me and I looked up. There, over the rim of sharp stones, dragons flew. They were dancing a-wing in the moonlight, and mere was that about them that sparkled, that reflected the light in scattering joy. The demon chose that moment to strike at me with pain but I did not even notice, for the joy of those creatures was made my joy, their song of thanksgiving the echo of my life, and in that moment pain had no more dominion over me.

However, I had forgotten in mat transcendent moment that pain can cause a purely physical reaction. I lost consciousness, but the last things I saw were the dragons, wheeling, soaring on the wind in pure delight, and my heart flew with them as my mind fell away.

When I woke again to pain I was moving. It had got me through the gap in the stones unnoticed, and was now creeping around the southern rim of the field. It should have been impossible to go so far unmarked, for the field was filled with creatures of all kinds—horses, humans, and more of the little dragons than I had imagined existed. There must have been more than two hundred of them, but all their attention was focussed on something happening in the centre of the plain.

I tried to cry out but I had no voice. It was like an evil dream, in which time slows so that you run at a crawl, and you cry out for help with all your might but only the merest squeak comes out of your mouth. If I could speak I might be able to call for help, someone to kill the beast for me.

But I could not speak, and there were none to aid me.

The demon was in a hurry now, so I spent my strength on keeping my steps as small as that nightmare pace. I was still fighting for every step, but it was nearer its goal and I had to work ever harder to stop its advance. I could feel the sweat drenching my clothing as I used every muscle to deny it. By the time it—we—reached the stony outcrop I had been striving against it for almost ten hours without ceasing and I was weary to the bone. We were then two-thirds of the way across the field. It seemed to be heading for a darkness on the far side that I guessed was a wood.

After that I lost ground to the force of will and the pain, for my weariness lay upon me like a great weight. I no longer counted victory in steps, but in breaths. That breath I did not move forward. That breath I resisted, but it moved a little. That breath I rested and it took half a step, but this breath I have stopped it again.

The night moved like years, until suddenly it stabbed me again with agony and I could bear it no longer. I released my hold on it long enough to take a deep breath and rest, just for a moment. In that time I covered half the remaining distance. I managed to look up as we entered the wood and blessed the Lady, for the sky was growing light and that endless night was all but over.

I decided to choose my final battle and let it walk unhindered towards the hidden place it sought, but while it was moving I began to draw in my power. It felt what I was doing and tried to stop me, but my will now was iron and pain meant nothing, for my death was upon me and I knew it. I called to me every scrap of will and training and innate power I had ever possessed, commended my soul to the Lady, and unleashed it at the thing I carried.

I heard it scream as the power of the Lady Shia struck it like a lance. I sent wave after wave of power at it, drowning it in the blessed light of the Goddess. If I had been stronger, or if I had known more of the nature of demons, perhaps I might have been able to kill it, but it had reached its destination. I was no longer needed.

I was grateful for the swiftness with which it severed the great cord in my back, for the pain was stopped like the snuffing of a candle. I felt nothing as it clawed its way out, and I kept the clear light of the Lady around me until the last second. The last sight I saw in life was the first rays of true dawn striking the great peaks round about and gleaming off the scales of the beautiful dragons, and I blessed the Lady with my final thought as I took beauty down with me into darkness and death.

I had rested some hours after I spoke with Varien, but as the first hint of false dawn lightened the sky I leapt into the updraft that had kept me from crashing into the cliff. My wing ached but it bore me yet, and the updraft carried me swiftly to a decent altitude. I had to fly a long way north to find what I sought, but I knew it at once when I found it— the river was unmistakable, the only feature so large that it could be seen from so far away. The hills were away to the west of where I flew, but not too far.

"Varien, my friend, how fare you?" I called, as dawn rose bright behind me. "/ am near, I believe. I have found the great river, and the sharp hills lie before me."

He did not answer me, so I tried bespeaking Lanen. "Lady Lanen, is Varien—?"

"I am here, Shikrar," he replied at last. His voice sounded extraordinary. "You are as welcome as a summer's day in midwinter, my friend."

"Varien, what news? What news now of the Lesser Kindred?"

"Come find us, my brother," he said. "Oh, Shikrar! It is the unknown and the Word of the Winds both together. I have no words. You must see."

He sounded weary but very happy. I glided towards the sharp peaks ahead, wondering what there was for them to show me.

Where is it? The damned thing should have come to me by now. It should have been here hours since! Dawn is here already, the best time is past, if it comes not swiftly I shall be forced to—

Ah. Good.

"Masster, all iss done. The prey awaitss you, the Swift-lines are planted in the heart of the host and both are open to you."

"You are late," I growled. "You should have been here hours ago."

"The hossst wasss ill chossen, Masster," it hissed happily, knowing I had not specified a time limit. "Healersss can work againsst uss. He wasss a sstrong Healer and killed himself before I could force him to build the altar. I wass forced to built it mysself, and that wass not in the price we agreed."

"You speak truth, little demon," I said, throwing an extra handful of lansip onto the flames. It inhaled the smoke greedily, its reward sufficient. "All now is achieved. Our pact iss concluded, all iss done, live in pain and die alone," it intoned, spitting at me as it vanished. I ignored its petty complaints.

All was prepared now for the summoning of the Nameless One, the Demonlord, for I would undertake it the instant La-nen was in my power. There was much to do, and it must be done swiftly, but all was in readiness for my return.

I took with me every set trap I had to hand. Such things were very useful—all the work had already been done, I had only to break the thin clay discs the spells were encased in to summon up the demons in question. If I encountered difficulties I had anywhere from one to a legion of the Rikti at my command, and in extremity I could call up a Raksha from the Third Hell. That should take care of most things. It would even slow the Kantri down long enough for me to appear, take the girl and get out;

The most useful set trap against the Kantri, of course, would be a Ring of Seven Circles, but there had been no time. The making of such a thing took far longer than the two days' notice I'd had from Marik. Bastard. He should have told me before.

Still, I was prepared. My robes of black and silver, woven about with spells of protection, would serve as armour—not for long, but for long enough.

I stood in my summoning chamber among lighted candles with Durstan at my side. "Be ready to silence her the instant we appear," I told him.

"I am prepared," he rumbled. "Success, Master."

"Always," I replied, and stepped into the circle that marked the outgoing Swiftline.

It took no time that could be measured. Between one breath and another I travelled to the far end and stepped out into a small wood. I looked quickly about me. I could not see Lanen, indeed I was hard-pressed to find any humans. There on the field before me were hundreds of the little dragons that commonly haunt the woods. I broke a disc and a single Rikti appeared. "Find the living humans in this crowd and come and tell me where they are," I commanded.

I had not known I would need to deal with these creatures, and I did not know what their response would be. I watched its flight from my hidden place in the wood and saw that it was pursued by several of them. Then, to my satisfaction, I heard a voice cry out, " 'Ware demon!" That voice was human enough, and I could tell where it came from, so the thing's death by the paltry flame these little creatures could command was no great loss.

There were the humans, out in the open and looking terribly confused. How delightful. Ah, and there was my prey.

I was feeling extravagant. I drew out nearly every disc save the one that summoned the Raksha and broke them. The air was suddenly black with Rikti awaiting my command. I pointed. "Leave alive that human, the tall female with the long hair. Kill the rest," I shouted, to be heard above the yells and hisses of the creatures in the field.

They massed and attacked, and I strode forth to claim my prey.

Into the midst of our celebrations the first of the demons came alone and died swiftly. If it had not been for Will's shout we might have had no notice at all. As it was, we were at least a little wary when a great cloud of them appeared and came straight for us.

My first instinct was to rise up and flame them, but when in the next instant I remembered, instead I called out in true-speech to the brother of my heart.

"Shikrar! Haste, my friend, the Rikti attack!"

His voice rose in a song of battle. "Behold, they are their own undoing and it is good. I know now where you are for I can smell the evil from here. I come, Akhor!"

In the meantime, for I knew not how far away Shikrar might be, I drew my sword as my only defence, for tooth and claw and breath of fire were denied me—but they were not denied the Lesser Kindred. I had not known for certain that they would react in the same way as the Kantri; our hatred of the Rakshasa must be deep in the bone. The Lesser Kindred rose in flame and struck with claws and teeth.

Lanen, beside me, had drawn her blade as well. Vilkas stood in the centre of his blazing corona, no whit diminished for all that he had laboured all night to aid the Lesser Kindred, but the fear on his face was plain. Aral, beside him, also had drawn her power about her, but her corona was barely visible in the early-morning light. She only just had the time to draw forth the soulgem of the Ancestor before the things attacked.

I could not see Jamie and Rella, and Will was off somewhere in the midst of the newfound ones. I saw him fighting his way back to be with Vilkas and Aral in the brief moment before I was set upon by three of the demons. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lanen swinging her sword with a will.

My own sword was not to their liking, for their bodies are physical and they can be hurt, but I was too slow. I cried out as my back and my face were raked by two separate Rikti, but to my astonishment both the attackers screamed and the other that threatened drew away from me. I could only see the one that had struck at my face; I watched in amazement as the claws that had drawn my blood burst into flame as it screamed and fled. Other of the Rikti came nigh me to attack but ever they veered away before they could strike. It was as if they could smell—

Of course. My blood. Whatever else had changed about me, it seemed that was still the same. An idea struck me that normally I would not even consider, but in the heat of battle I acted upon it immediately, for there was nothing to lose. I swiftly wiped away the blood that was running down my cheek with my hand, and spread it upon the blade of my sword.

Lanen, only a few feet away, was hard-pressed—I saw blood on her arm and on her face. The sight roused me to fury and I started to fight my way to her. The first I struck with my bloody sword screamed and vanished—it had worked! With a fierce joy I slew the Rikti that kept me from my dearling.

I was caught far from the others, for I had been walking with Salera. She had more words now, though there was still much to learn, and we had been trying to speak with one another when the demons attacked. I had not even my staff with me. I tried to run back for it, but there were too many dragons in the way, for many of them took to the air to fight. There were too many demons as well, and when one fastened on the arm I'd raised to protect my face I thought sure I was doomed, when a strong arm plucked the creature from me and tore it apart. I stared. Salera stood beside me, her new soulgem blazing. She sent flame after the next one and managed to scorch the one behind it as well. She had to push me down to get at one that was attacking from behind, and I realised that I was only in the way. It wasn't very heroic, I admit, but then I'm no hero. I stayed down, curled up at her feet, while my valiant Salera kept all harm from me.

I could not do it. I had thought that once I had released it I could claim all of my power, but I could not. The old deep injunction that kept me from fighting the Rikti still held. I cursed and fought to tap into that power, throwing all my will behind it, but I met only the same blank wall. When the Rikti attacked in force I could only put up a shield to surround myself—though my fury at my own failure made it strong. I would have extended it to Aral, but she shouted "No!" and I had to obey. As was now becoming her custom, she held the jewel—the soulgem—in her hand and sent her power through it. She kept the creatures away from both of us for a time and managed to kill a few, but there were just too many. The best we could manage was protection for ourselves until we saw, not far away, Jamie and Rella. I have never seen such combined ability with a blade—they appeared to be surrounded by ten swords—but even they were tiring and injured. Rella's clothing was torn and blood showed through some of the tears. Jamie's cheek was opened to the bone. They, like we, could do little beyond delaying the inevitable.

I turned to Aral. "Can we protect them as well?" I shouted, pointing, for the noise of the battle was growing. She nodded. We strode over to them, Aral dispelling as many of the demons as she could as we went, but it was like trying to empty the sea with a cup.

We did not reach them an instant too soon. Just before my shield could defend Rella one of the creatures landed on her back and bit her neck. She cried out just once and fell. Aral destroyed the demon and in the next instant my shield protected the four of us, but Rella was badly injured.

"Vil, can you do two things at once?" asked Aral. I was shocked to hear the deadly weariness in her voice. "I'm about exhausted and she's in a bad way. I have stopped the bleeding but I haven't the strength to heal her."

Blessed be the Lady, I thought. At last, something I can do.

Keeping the shield raised all the while, I looked over at Rella, who measured her length on the grass. Aral was right, she was badly injured. Healing, simple healing, safe, blessed by the Lady—and the depth of my strength came to me, the fullness of it, as it had that night in Wolfenden. It was like cold water in my face, I roused and shook myself. I raised Rella with a thought to lie on the air before me. The demon had severed the great cord of her spine. It was a delicate task and required deep concentration to reconnect, and I had to maintain the shield to protect the four of us.

Do not think me boastful. I was useless against the Rikti; all I could do was keep a simple shield around myself and perhaps a few others. But healing—healing ran through me like warming fire. Even in the madness of the battle it was not hard for me. Rella was unconscious, for a blessing. I remembered first to cleanse the wound of Raksha-trace, cleaned the severed ends and reconnected them, forced the re-growth of the cord, of the muscles around it, of the skin above. When I finished and looked up there was but a thin red line on the back of her neck.

I was concerned at first by the expression on Jamie's face. He was astounded, plainly, but he seemed frightened as well, a disconcerting emotion for such an old campaigner.

"It isn't possible, surely—no one can heal such a wound so quickly, it's unbelievable."

Aral saved him. She put her hand on his arm for just a moment.

"Told you he was good," she said with a grin, and turned back to the battle.

I gave the Rikti a little while to wear them down, to keep their minds on the little individual battles that surrounded them. It worked well enough.

I prepared the second Swiftline and strode towards the pair in the centre. Lanen and the silver-haired man. Halfway there I stopped and broke the final disc, and a Rak-sha of the Third Hell stood before me. I interrupted the inevitable posturing.

"Behold, I provide you with a selection of prey, but you will take him first." I pointed. "The one with the silver hair. Kill him," I said, "then you may have the rest of them."

It flew on bat wings to obey me. I followed it.

The Rikti had learned that my sword was death, so that Lanen and I had a moment's rest. As I was renewing the blood on my sword, Lanen turned to me with tears of frustration in her eyes. "Damn it, Varien, I can't help you," she said. "I'm too slow with a sword and I can't hurt them otherwise. I hate being helpless."

I took her hand with my free one. "I know. Would it help to imagine for one last time that I am Akhor of old, defending you with tooth and claw against the Rikti?"

In the midst of the battle, she laughed. "It would indeed. I thank you, Akor," she said.

Then a movement away to the side caught our attention and held it. I committed my soul to the Winds and bespoke Lanen. "I fear our doom is come upon us. Find safety where you may, dearling. I will distract the creature. Go. Now." It was a Raksha, and it was flying straight toward us.

My plan was working beautifully. The silver-haired one wasted his time preparing to meet a Raksha with a sword and sending Lanen away to find cover. She had seen the other group of humans not far away and was making for them when I cast a simple Sleep charm upon her. It should have worked instantly, but something in her resisted long enough to discover who had sent the charm. When she saw me her eyes widened and she tried to cry out, but Silence is swiftly cast even from a distance, and it is very effective. However, Marik had warned me that she had Farspeech, so I called to two of the Rikti and had them bear her back with me as I ran to the Swiftlines. Speed would make all the difference.

I had not planned on having to deal with one of the Kantri so late in the battle.

I flew as fast as my wings would bear me. The strain in my injured wing threatened to give way, though, and I could not allow that. I was forced to fly more slowly than I would have wanted lest I fall from the sky altogether. I bespoke Varien to tell him that I was near but he did not answer. There again, I thought grimly, he would not reply from the midst of battle.

By the time I was near enough to hear what was happening I was frantic with the Raksha-smell and the silence from my soulfriend. I approached from above, sacrificing surprise that I might know what I faced. It was an evil sight—what looked like a legion of Rikti, and there to one side a Raksha, fighting—

Fighting Varien.

I could see blood on his face, and I heard Lanen crying out his name in my mind.

I came roaring and flaming from the sky, straight towards the Raksha. Varien dove out of the way as I came near. The Raksha turned to face me and raked my armour as I closed with it, but it only had that once chance. I was in a fury, and the Eldest and largest of our race. It was dead with one bite and I destroyed the body with cleansing flame the next instant:

Varien was gone.

I looked for Lanen the instant I heard Shikrar calling me, though I could not answer while my sword still defended my head. The Raksha was distracted—I am told that they can smell us as we can them—and it only fought with half its strength, for it knew that one of the Kantrishakrim was near and it began to fear for its life. From the corner of my eye I could see Lanen moving towards the others, towards the protection of me healers, when suddenly she fell. I was struggling to get away from the Raksha to help her when two of the Rikti caught her up and dragged her at a terrible speed across me field and away towards the wood at the far end.

She called out to me in truespeech. "Varien! I am be-spelled, I cannot fight back—help me! Shikrar, to me! "

"I come, Lanen! Shikrar, swiftly, she is taken!" I cried. I saw Shikrar diving at the Raksha. It turned its attention away from me, and like an arrow released from the bow I sped towards Lanen.

If the field had been empty I might have reached her, but ever me Rikti attacked me as I ran and I was forced to fight them off. "Shikrar, help her!" I screamed in the agony of my frustration, as my blood-soaked sword dispelled the last of the Rikti about me. Shikrar's vast shape ran past me then, scattering the Rikti as he went, and I followed after faster than I had thought I could run. I felt as though I were running through deep water. Every muscle, every beat of my heart threw me towards Lanen, but I felt a great darkness gather round about me with each step as I watched her carried away from me on demon wings.

All my strength, all my love, all that I was or ever had been I poured into my desperate need to be by her side, but to no avail.

The Rikti reached the wood. At its edge stood a man, young and strong, who stank of the Rakshasa as though he were one himself. "Shikrar, the Gedri, he is the source, destroy him for me I beg you!" I cried in truespeech, and spared the fraction of an instant to rejoice when cleansing flame surrounded that abomination.

It did not touch him.

The demon-master laughed and gestured to his tame Rikti, who dropped Lanen into his arms.

"NO!" The scream ripped from my throat, agony. "Stop him Shikrar!"

Too slow.

Too late.

I wake still at nights to the memory of those last moments. I see Lanen catching sight of me, struggling to get away from Berys, stretching out her arms to me, crying my name desperately in truespeech as bespelled silence holds her.

"Varien! Varien! AKOR!"

I threw down my sword and flung myself across the last few feet that separated us, but the bastard who held her captive took one step backwards and disappeared.

With her.

"NO!" I cried, falling to my knees, scrabbling insanely in the earth where he had stood. "LANEN! LANEN!" I screamed in truespeech and aloud.

Silence.

Shikrar went wild then, I think. Like me he followed instinct, but he dug stone like earth, as if Lanen had disappeared down a hole. When finally he realised that he could not follow her, he turned his incandescent anger on the remaining Rikti.

The Lesser Kindred had fought well, but they had not the flame nor the strength of a Lord of the Kantri in his wrath. I had never seen any of our people in a killing frenzy before. The Lesser Kindred drew back in awe as he roared and flamed until all the Rikti were dead, then he rent the bodies of the dead when there were no more to kill.

I bespoke him finally, from that small part of me that still lived. "Shikrar, it is done. They are dead. Burn them."

Great gouts of flame roared over the mangled bodies, burning the ground clean down to the rock. The cleansing flame seemed to rouse him out of his madness, for he shook his head and gazed about him, his glance finally coming to rest on me.

"Varien—Varien, I could not save her," said Shikrar brokenly. His voice in my mind was appalled. "/ tried with all my strength, I could not—Akhor—they were too far ahead." He bowed, shaking, and said aloud, "Akhor, Akhor, I cannot hear her."

I tried to answer him, but my voice was trapped in my throat and would not obey me. "Shikrar my brother," I groaned in truespeech, "/ cannot hear her either." I tried once more, calling into silent darkness, as I feared I would call for the rest of my days.

"Lanen! Lanen! Hear me, answer me—Lanen!"

There was no answer, and there was no more strength in me. I knelt there on the grass in that bright spring morning and stared helplessly, stupidly, at the place where she had disappeared.

I could not weep. My soul was lost in a desolation far beyond tears—but my heart kept up its litany long after my mind had fallen into darkness.

Lanen—Lanen—Lanen—