The Lesser Kindred

XVI The Nameless One

Once I had her safely in my chambers in Verfaren I cast yet another bespelled sleep upon her. She fought it, but I was too strong for her. I sent Durstan to put her in a demon-guarded chamber and hurried to begin the great summoning.

I did not wait for Durstan to return with my sacrifice for there was much to be done first. I moved surely but swiftly, rejoicing all the while—Marik of Gundar's blood and bone were in my power at last!

I drew forth and lit the incense I had made a year since from a fist of ingredients obtained from ancient sources. Mixed in with the rest was a rare and precious scrap of parchment the Demonlord himself had touched. It had taken me half a lifetime to find and a small fortune to purchase.

I threw more coals on to the fire, renewed the candles, sealed the seven sigils at the points each with their prescribed element. The circles were carven into the stone floor but I swept them again, ensuring that each was clear and complete. I opened a small chest against one side of the room and drew out the robes I had made for this work. Woven into the fabric of the cloth were the sealing symbols of spells of protection, binding, containment, control and mastery. I threw off my battle-stained garments and assumed the deep red robes. As I wrapped the cord around my waist I repeated each of the spells, sealing each with a touch to the symbol, that my very robes might act as protection and reinforcement of the spells I needed. I finished tying the cord with the binding spell.

Where in all the Hells was Durstan with my sacrifice?

I threw a handful of the priceless incense on to the coals. It instantly sent billows of pungent smoke into the air, a heavy cloud that seeped into the brain and made limbs heavy and speech slow—or would have if I had not taken the precautions I had. The symbol for protection glowed bright in the murky chamber.

Ah, the door at last! I had told Durstan to send in the sacrifice—I could not see who it was for the smoke, but it was alive and that was all I required. Durstan had not subdued it, however, so I had to cast Sleep upon it before I could drag it on the altar. The smoke was so thick I could barely see the shape as it lay not two feet from my eyes. Still, I could find its chest fast enough.

It was time. I called up my power and began the chant I had spent so long learning. Every word was a spell, weaving a full tapestry of spells to call and to bind.

From the moment I started I sensed a presence. There in the mist, somewhere in the cloud created by the incense that carried the single point of essence of the Demonlord, there was a mind watching mine. It was more intelligent than any demon and it was without fear that I could see.

I was delighted. At last, a kindred spirit.

I proceeded with the summoning, invoking the strictures that would keep it under my control.

"I'm not a demon, you know," said a quiet voice from the mist.

I continued with the spell.

"You're trying to bind me like a demon. It won't work.

I'm human, just like you. Well, no, not like you. I'm much brighter than you are." It giggled. "I know when to leave the dead alone."

There was a brief pause in the spell. "Forgotten it already? You are pathetic," it said, ending on a hiss. I felt a presence now, much nearer, above the altar.

The summoning was working. The words grew harder to say, sticking in my throat, but I bent all my will to speaking them aloud despite the pressure not to. My will prevailed.

It had stopped its inane comments when the binding took hold, but it did not writhe as the Rakshasa did. I had wondered if it would—but no, it was not embodied yet, I could inflict no pain. That would come in time.

I gathered my thoughts and ran quickly over the end of the spell.

"You'll never manage it, you know," it said loudly, confusing me. I had to begin again, going over the syllables, and again it interrupted. "It's too hard. You'll never do it. Give up now and I promise I won't hurt you."

I sent what was left of my Healer's aura to encompass the presence. Corrupt as my corona was with Raksha-trace, still there was enough in it of the Lady to injure the creature. The presence, to my satisfaction, screamed loudly. I went over me spell once more, tins time without interruption.

I took up my sacrificial knife and ripped open the garment the sacrifice wore. As I pronounced the final words of invocation it stirred, and when I plunged me razor-sharp blade into the chest of the victim it screamed. I had done this often enough that I hardly needed to look as I cut out the heart, but I usually enjoyed the look of horror on their faces when I held their still-beating hearts before their eyes. I glanced down just for a moment.

It was almost my undoing. My eyes met those of Durstan. Somehow I had mistaken him for whoever he had tried to supply, and of course, I had put the sacrifice to sleep instantly.

It is as well I never cared much for Durstan. I was annoyed that I would have to train up a new servant, but it was a small inconvenience. I showed him his heart and found that I felt my usual pleasure. That was all right, then.

I threw the beating heart on the coals. "Arise now, De-monlord, thou who didst surrender thy name in the service of darkness these long aeons since. Arise as my servant, that together we may destroy the Kantrishakrim once and for all, and have the whole of Kolmar for our own."

The voice became only a little louder. "You have not provided me with a body. How then shall I arise, you fool?"

"A body is prepared for you, ancient one. Look to the west, see there an island in its death throes."

"I see it," the voice answered. It sounded curious.

I explained the arrangement. The Demonlord laughed, long and loud.

"That is not enough!" he said. "Oh, you are such a clever fool! No, little demon caller, that is not enough. I must have you."

"I am not part of the bargain," I replied.

"Ah, but you are," he said. "Without a piece of your own body I am not bound. I told you, I am not a demon. I require a sacrifice from you, yourself. The heart of this man is good, it nourishes me, but it is not yours."

"I will make a sacrifice of blood," I began, but he interrupted me.

"No, not blood," he said, "that is too simple. No, I need something of you that you cannot replace." It stopped for a moment to ponder. "Your left hand, I think."

"You ask too much!" I cried, but I knew what its response would be.

"Those laws of what is too much or not enough only apply to demons. I told you, I'm not a demon." He smiled. "So, what happens now, little demon-spit? Do I eat you where you stand, or will you do as I bid?"

I was trapped, but those of my profession must ever consider the possibility that such things can happen. It was not that much to lose, after all.

"Once accepted and given, you are bound to me. Blood and bone binds deep, Demonlord. Once accepted and given, the sacrifice binds you to me."

"True. I'm waiting."

"On pain of perpetual servitude, do you accept this sacrifice of my left hand?"

"Damn," he said calmly. "I was hoping you'd cut it off first so I could refuse. Yes, I accept the sacrifice."

I did not stop to think or wonder if I dared. I took the bloody knife and brought it down with all my strength upon my wrist. I took the instant of shock to seal the wound with my Healer's corona and dispel the pain, for I had to keep my wits about me a little longer.

It was peculiar, though, lifting up my own hand and tossing it on to the coals. It hissed and was taken.

"Bound to me, Demonlord, bound and mastered!" I cried.

"It is well, Malior," he answered from the heart of the coals. The voice was much stronger now. "I go now to the island to take up that which arises, and I will come unto thee in the body thou hast prepared for me. It is fitting. I will aid thee in thanks for the sacrifice, and then—ah, then, we shall see, little demon-spit. At the least I will take joy in the death of the Kantri, and thy death thereafter."

"Arise, then, and come to me as swift as the wind will bear thee," I cried.

"I come, O Master," it said, its voice light and mocking.

And it was gone.

The spell was complete. I had done it.

I closed off the invocation, sealed the brazier and doused the coals, blew out the candles.

It was done. I was in a daze, for the shock was taking me, but I took the precaution of looking again at my hand—at the stump where my hand had been. As I suspected, it was hazy with infection. I would have to have it seen to.

Out of habit I called for Durstan to help me with my robes, but he lay on the altar most decidedly dead. I just managed to rouse balefire to consume him—it was a kind of swift and useful sacrifice I kept always ready by me. It al-lowed me to summon the Rikti at will, for they always received the leftovers of my sacrifices. This much fresh flesh would supply me with another small army of Rikti should I require one.

I dressed with difficulty in my usual robes, left the chambers and closed the door behind me. I staggered to All Comers with a tale of a demon attack. The Raksha infection was purged, my stump was examined and sealed carefully with a skin flap. I was carried back to my chambers to rest, amid general dismay.

I spent the journey to my chambers in quiet delight. My lost hand bothered me hardly at all. Now that I had in my grasp all I required for victory, the only question that remained was deciding which of the College servants I should choose as Durstan's replacement.

I had watched it all. I saw Berys under the trees, laughing, fifty years younger than he should be. I had tried to get to him while the demons were massed against us; thank the Lady, Vilkas and Aral restrained me. I'd have been killed instantly. It brought me up short, reminded me I was thinking with my heart not my head. Stupid.

But when he took Lanen, when he disappeared with her, I went cold from head to foot, felt my heart contract to an old and unwelcome ice. I fought it for the moment. There was too much to do first.

I waited until the last demon was dead, until Vilkas dropped his shield against the demons and healed the gash in my cheek. I thanked him for his kindness to me and to Rella, carried her gently to the fire we had been tending through the night and roused her from her healing sleep.

"Rella," I called softly. "Rella lass, coom nah, waken oop," I said, slipping for an instant into the thick accent of my youth. " 'Tis broad daylight, Rella. Come, lass, waken to me."

She stirred and opened an eye. "I'm weary, Jamie," she said sleepily, "go 'way—oh Hells." And between one breath and another she was awake and very aware of her last memory. "Oh Goddess, am I—but—how?" She lifted her hand to her face, then stood shakily with my help. "It can't be. How can I move, how can I stand? I felt that thing cut me down like a spider off its web, I dropped and couldn't feel a thing. How—?"

"Vilkas," I said. "Never seen the like." I took her hand. "You're right, lass. You were done for. I saw the cut. The lad has a blind spot about demons, but by all the Hells, he's the stuff of legend when it comes to healing."

"Amazing," she said, stunned.

Well, I'd best get it said and over so we could get on with things.

I took her by die shoulders and made her look me in the eye. "I must tell you, my girl. When I saw what had happened, before Vilkas said he could help, I had already drawn my sword. I was going to send you on ahead."

That was mere's cant, in such circumstances, for the merciful blow you give a comrade who will otherwise die a slow and painful death.

Rella drew me to her and kissed me soundly. "Thank the Goddess, you're neither fool nor coward," she said, her eyes locked with mine. "It's a long death, that one. I wouldn't wish it on anyone." She touched my cheek. "I'd have been grateful."

She released me and looked around. "What's happened to Varien? In fact, what's happened to—Lanen—" Her face changed and she looked appalled. "Oh Jamie, no, she isn't—"

"No, she's not dead, at least not yet," I said. "Berys came, I saw him, and he summoned a big bastard of a demon to take her. He's got her, Rella." I gazed into her eyes, into love so late found and so precarious still. "Berys stole her from under my nose. And I must go after as long as I have strength to try to get her back. I'm leaving, now you're awake."

"Just make sure you can keep up with me, old man," she said, smiling, her voice light, as if this was just another stage in our journey. If I hadn't seen the bright track down her cheek gleam in the sunlight, I'd never have known she wept. "But Jamie—I know it goes against your every instinct, but you must wait. There is too much we do not know."

"I have waited long enough!" I cried. "She could be dying!"

"And where would you run to, to find her?" Rella demanded. "And what would you do if she is protected by demons? Think, Master Jameth," she said. "We cannot rush after her like green recruits. We must plan this campaign. If he wanted her dead, why bother to take her away?"

"How should I stand here a moment longer when she is in his power?" I cried, even though I knew in my heart that Rella was right.

"Because you know you will be of no use to her dead. Come. We need to think, find out who is with us and how best to use our strength. How fares that young Healer—" she said, glancing around the field. There was certainly plenty to see. "Bright Lady! Jamie, you idiot, you didn't tell me there was a dragon come to call!"

I followed her slowly as she hurried to talk to it. Truth be told, I was a bit afraid. This creature's presence, its friendship with Varien—well, there, I'd been inclined to believe him of late in any case.

Varien. There he knelt in the grass, still in shock. He loved her, aye, true enough, I thought, gazing at his back. But I had the prior claim by more than twenty years.

I shivered as I felt it again, a cold wave sweeping over me, but this time I welcomed it. My heart was swept clean for that instant as I made my vow, as I declared my only purpose. I had always known, I suppose, but the time was now come.

I would go and speak with the great Dragon. Perhaps it would help us find Lanen.

And if it would not, no matter. For my only purpose in life now was to find Berys the Bastard, Berys Child-killer, come day come dark, come pain or death or all the Hells, and make him give me back my shining daughter. On my soul I swore it.

The other Gedri came to me and to Varien then, a little tentative at first because of my presence, but it seemed I was not completely unexpected.

They had seen what had happened.

Two of the Gedri came first and tried to lift him from his knees but he would not move. I spoke to them. "Forgive me, littlings. You are young, even in the span of your people, are you not?"

The man bowed. The woman answered, "Yes, we are, but we're Healers. He needs help."

I lowered my head that I might be nearer to her level and spoke more gently. "Lady, he is beyond help at this moment. I have known him all his life. I pray you, leave us. When he comes more to himself we will seek you out. It will not be long. What are you called?"

"Her name's Aral, Shikrar, and he is Vilkas. They're only trying to help," said a familiar voice. I found a solemn joy in that dark moment when I realised who stood before me, bedraggled and bloodstained.

"I greet thee gladly, Lady Rella," I said, bowing. "I believe that they act for the best as they see it, but please, come away with me all and we will speak of it further."

They followed me to a good distance, where Varien would not hear my words. "It eases my heart to see a familiar face, Lady, although I did not expect to see yours," I said to Rella as we walked.

She smiled. "Ah, there I have the advantage of you, for I knew you were coming. Now, why did you stop these two from helping Varien?"

"His wounds are not of the body, Lady, as you know well. He needs time." I lowered my voice to the merest whisper. "You do not hear him as I do. He calls to her even as we stand here, speaking on her name over and over." Aral the Healer put her hands over her mouth. "I know his pain, for I lost my mate after so short a time together—"

"And I lost my child when she was barely ten years old," said Rella sharply. "Death comes untimely to all who live, Shikrar, not only to the Kantri."

I bowed. "True, Lady. I did not mean to imply that my pain was worse than another's. But Akhor waited a thousand years for the deep love of his heart to blossom, and it has been in flower so short a time. Please, in this let me serve my friend."

Rella stood with bowed head for a moment, then looking up she reached out suddenly to touch my faceplate. "Help him if you can, Shikrar. He needs you. But time is of the essence. If he takes too long to rouse, I will help him myself." She turned and strode rapidly away.

I had the time, as I walked back to rejoin Varien, finally to look at the creatures that looked so familiar but kept their distance. I knew Varien was with the Lesser Kindred, but I had not realised they would be so beautiful or so in awe of me as they seemed, or that they—

Soulgems. They had soulgems.

"Akhor!" I cried, reaching out in my surprise, without thinking, to my oldest companion.

I heard his mindvoice, indeed, but it was no answer. Soft, barely to be heard, the refrain of a distant, dying song.

"Lanen—Lanen—Lanen— "

I waited with the others on the Isle of Rest. I had heard no word from Shikrar, so I expected that it would be some days yet before the way could be ready for us to arrive in Kolmar.

Kretissh and I had spoken long together, and we both recognised that without the strength of Shikrar it would not be possible to carry Nikis any further. Even if all the rest of us left for Kolmar, one or more would have to remain behind to look after her until she woke from the Weh sleep. I found myself stupidly growing angry with her. In an effort to think of something else, I remembered Toklurik and wondered how he fared. In fact I began to worry about him. Why had he not bespoken us before?

Unless he is already in Kolmar laughing at us, I thought to myself as I called to him.

"Toklurik? Toklurik, answer me I pray you, it is Idai who would speak with you."

I heard a faint response. It worried me more than silence would have. "Tok, it is Idai. Where are you? Are you in need of aid?" I asked, my heart sinking even as the question left my thoughts, for how could we aid him wherever he might be?

"Idai, Idai, blessed be the Winds," he answered, a little stronger. "It is good to hear your voice, Idai, here at the end oflife."

"Toklurik, what has happened? Where are you? Are you injured?" I asked, standing up and flexing my wings even as I spoke. I was eldest after Shikrar, surely I could assist Tok if he needed help.

"Idai, I hear you. Stay where you are," said Tdklurik weakly. "I am beyond aid but the sound of your voice cheers me. Of your kindness stay with me, Lady."

"I am here, Tok," I said, sorrow sweeping over me fullblown upon the instant. For Tok's sake I did not let it show in my truespeech. "As long as you want me. Where are you?"

"In our old home, in the Place of Exile." His thoughts faltered for a moment, then recovered. "We would not choose to be exiled here now, Idai. Every inch is black with the earth's blood made stone. The air—the air is tainted. The fumes that were afflicting us before are worse now, and I cannot get away from the foul air. And the ground shakes continually, stronger and stronger."

"What happened?" I asked gently.

"I found my aunt Roccelis and her friend Urishhak," he said, "as I vowed to do. Their soulgems lay on the floor of their old chamber but there was no way of knowing how they died. I can only guess, for the air in the cave was appalling, but I retrieved them. I had their soulgems clutched safe in my talons and was rising on a thermal ready to follow you when the mountainside beneath me spewed forth liquid rock. It caught me, wing and body. I fell gravely wounded and I have lain here, burned and bound into the rock in and out of wakefulness, since then. Has it been more than two days since you left?"

"A little more, Tok," I replied. "It does not matter."

"It does not," he said. "The end comes soon—Name of the Winds, Idai, the ground wakes! "

Suddenly, his mind voice was sharper and clearer. So was his pain.

"The ground groans deep, Idai—Winds keep us, the mountains! The mountains are falling!"

"Tok, what are you—"

"The Grandfather! Idai, the fire comes—/ am dead, remember me—Idai, beware, the Grandfather rises!"

And then there was only silence.

I was afraid that Varien would waste hours in grief. He was absolutely unreachable, but I gave him no more than the half of an hour before I approached Shikrar again.

"Has there been any change?" I asked quietly.

Shikrar bowed bis huge head down to my level and it was all I could do not to shrink back. Goddess, but I'd forgotten just how big he was. "He no longer calls her name, Lady, but he will not let me speak with him." He looked at me, and even if his face couldn't show anything, those eyes were expressive enough to convey what he was thinking. "I confess I am at a loss as to what I should do to aid him," he said.

Right.

"I've got a few thoughts on that score," I said, and stumped over to where Varien knelt. He had not moved since Lanen had disappeared.

"You're going to have the most awful cramps in your legs, you know," I said as lightly as I could.

"Leave me," he said distantly.

"No, I don't think so," I said, moving to stand before him. "No, Varien, I'm going to stand here and talk at you until you break yourself out of mis."

"Begone," he said.

"No," I replied, and slapped him, lightly, on the face.

"How dare you?" he growled. Well, that was better than nothing.

"I dare because I think she's still alive, Varien, and we're not going to do anything to help her by kneeling here in the grass."

He finally looked at me, then, and saw that depth of resolve in my eyes which echoed his own thoughts. I extended a hand to help him up and he took it. Even for so young a man—well, you know what I mean—it was difficult for him to stand up after so long. To my amazement, the moment he got his balance he leaned down and kissed me, a quick brush of the lips. I couldn't help but notice that he smelled amazing.

"What was that for?" I asked gruffly.

"For rousing me. It is time." He looked around, and seemed to see his oldest friend for the first time. He walked over to Shikrar and embraced him awkwardly, putting his arms as far about that great neck as they would go. "My heart's friend, I have not thanked you for my life. You saved me from that Raksha, for I was demon fodder in another moment."

"It is always my pleasure to rend the Rakshasa, Akhor, you know that," said Shikrar, trying to keep his voice light. "On the contrary, I thank you for the chance. Alas, would that I had been faster!" he cried out suddenly, turning his head away. "Akhor, soulfriend, I ran as fast as I could but she was too far away—"

"Enough, my friend. You did all in your power. Name of the Winds, Berys had a legion of the Rikti at his command and the battle was not going well. We all owe you our lives."

"True enough," I said. "I'll thank you later, Shikrar, but for now the only questions before us are, where has he taken Lanen and how are we going to get her back?"

Varien winced from the pain of my words, but he followed me back to where the rest of us sat around a small fire.

I had healed all who needed it as soon as that huge dragon had destroyed the demons. Some of the Lesser Kindred were injured as well, but when I went to heal them my power would not touch them. It was not until Aral joined her power with mine that we could clean out the poisons and knit their torn flesh.

Only when all was done did Aral and I allow ourselves to rest. I was astounded that we had kept useful so long, for we had been putting forth our power all the night long, before the demons arrived, sealing the soulgems of the new race. Jamie and Rella had built a small fire in the shelter of the little wood and we joined them beside it, drinking from the stream nearby, eating whatever we could find in our packs.

A thousand thoughts were chasing each other through my mind. I wanted to thank Aral and to tell her that I would not have survived without her, I wanted to take die time to rejoice with Will, that he finally could speak with the astounding creature who now called him Father; and I wanted desperately to speak with the True Dragon who had saved us, and with the amazing dragons whose emergence into full sentient life I had witnessed and aided.

I could not imagine that any other event in my life, no matter how long I lived, could ever come close to the incredible joy of that time, of standing by and watching the light of reason take root behind the eyes and glow in the soulgems of the Lesser Kindred.

However, the unavoidable truth is that healing is exhausting for the Healer, and I had been working from roughly noon on die day before, with few breaks and no real rest. I asked Will to waken us when things started moving, and could only hope that Lord Varien would understand that we shared his sorrow but could keep our eyes open no longer. Aral slept already and I lay down beside her in the long grass. I remember putting my head on my arm but no more.

I sat tending the fire in a kind of daze. I was as sad as I could be that the Lady Lanen was taken and I'd gladly help to save her if I thought I'd be of any use, but I have no defence against demons. While everyone was trying to come to their senses I came to the only possible decision I could. I would go with Vilkas and Aral wherever they fared, for my fate was twined about theirs.

A bump on the shoulder reminded me that my fate was linked with another as well.

"Hhow ffare hyou, Ffather?" asked that wonderful voice, and suddenly Salera was curled about me. I shivered with relief and relaxed as her warmth wrapped me round about.

"Thanks to you, littling, I am not only alive but very well," I said, reaching out to stroke her cheek ridge. "You saved my life, Salera. I thank you, my kit."

"A liffe ssaved also hyou ffor me, hwen killing trruly I wass," she said solemnly, gazing at me.

"You remember that?" I said, astounded.

"I remember, Hooirr," she said. She dropped her jaw and hissed. "Hyour nname iss so hard to ssay!"

I smiled at her. "Then you can stick to Father."

"It iss good. Ffather, of hyourr kindness, come with me to the Great One. I long to sspeak hwith him."

I laughed quietly. "You don't need me, lass. You're all grown up and glorious and come into your own. I'm sure he will be delighted with you."

"Yess, I know," she said, her eyes gazing sharp and intelligent into mine. "But I hwould have him know you."

I glanced at Vilkas and Aral, drowned deep in sleep. They didn't need me for the moment. I added another few sticks to the fire and prepared to step forth with my strange and wondrous child. We didn't have far to go, though, for everyone was coming towards us.

She walked towards me as I was following Rella and Varien towards the fire. She moved carefully, almost fearfully, and at every other moment she would touch a tail or a wing-tip to the Gedri who walked with her for reassurance. He was a kind-looking—man, that was their word, man, with hair like old khaadish. I wondered how such a friendship could have been formed in so short a time.

When she came up to me she bowed, very skillfully. I returned the courtesy. "Welcome, little sister," I said, when she did not speak. "I rejoice that I may be with you on this first day of your flowering. It is a great wonder and a great blessing for the world."

"Hwat iss 'blessing'?" she asked.

"A very great good," I answered. I could not take my eyes from her. "You speak very well, littling. It is amazing. How have you learned so much so swiftly?"

"Ffrom the Ssilver King," she said. "He who wearss the wrong sshape but iss drragon nonetheless." She gazed up at me. "Hwere iss the Lady taken?"

I shook myself. She understood! It would take me a little time to realise that even if they looked like younglings, even if their speech was yet new to them, these creatures were aware and intelligent and to be treated as such.

I was a little ashamed of myself.

"We do not know, littling. Forgive me, I would call you by name. I am Shikrar, Eldest of the Kantrishakrim and Keeper of Souls," I said, bowing again.

"I am Ssallerra," she said, managing the T reasonably well for so new a speaker. It is a hard sound for us to make. And then she astounded me again, for she nudged the man who stood now a little behind her to come forward. "Tthis iss my ffatherr."

He bowed and laughed. "I am called Willem of Rowan-beck, Master Shikrar," he said. "I never dreamt I'd ever meet one of your people. I'm honoured to know you. I am no more Salera's real father than you are, of course, but I raised her from a kit and I love her like a daughter."

"It is well, Willem of Rowanbeck," I said, hissing my amusement. "You have been singularly blessed. She is a wonder."

"I know it," he replied, full qf delight as he gazed at her.

I enjoyed that moment of joy even as it passed. Varien called us to join them all at the fire.

Finally we were all met under the shelter of the trees. The bright morning had clouded over and it was grown cold. Vilkas and Aral, roused from the sleep of utter exhaustion, sat nearest the fire drinking chelan.

Many of the Lesser Kindred had left the plain, and those who remained had congregated at the far end of the field. I learned later that Salera had asked them to leave us in peace for the moment. It was well thought, for I had seen how they watched Shikrar's every movement. There would be time after our council for a wider meeting of our races. We had other things to consider now.

We shared out the cold food from our packs as we talked, for none of us had eaten much since the night before.

"You're not going alone, you know," said Rella to me as she passed around her store of oatcakes. "You'd have to kill Jamie to stop him."

"I would as soon cut off my right arm," I said. Jamie caught my glance and nodded. I saw then the coldness that had taken him. It saddened me, but I recognised it. Indeed, at that moment I welcomed it.

"That means you get me too," said Rella, raising an eyebrow. "Just so you know."

I bowed. "Three," I said.

"Alas, Varien. After so many years of life I had hoped you would be able to count by now," said a voice from high above. Shikrar settled on one side of the fire and brought his head down to a level with mine. "Four, at the very least. Or perhaps I count for more than one, if only by virtue of sheer bulk?"

"Four, then, Shikrar. Forgive me, my friend. There is no levity in me."

"I know it," said Shikrar gently. "But for all that, keep hope, Akhor. If he wanted her dead he could have killed her here. Keep hope, my friend."

I sent him a swift thanks in traespeech, grimacing at the twinge even so small a usage brought.

"The real question is, where do we start to seek her?" I said.

"Find Berys," said Jamie, his voice like ice. "Verfaren, surely."

"Not necessarily," said Vilkas. "Though that would be the first place to look." He spat. "Those damned demonlines can go anywhere in an instant."

"Demonlines?" asked Jamie. Cold, cold his voice, even the one word.

"Hard to set up, costly to the maker, but once they're in place you can go from one spot to another in the blink of an eye. Then they're gone. Once through only."

"Hells, Vil, how did you know that?" said Will, startled.

"I can't fight the things with my power, Will," said Vilkas grimly. "I've made damned sure I know all there is to know about them in case I can fight them any other way."

"Even if we know not where Berys may be, we must begin somewhere," I said. "If he is not there at Verfaren, perhaps we can find those who will know where he is gone."

"Only if he doesn't know we're looking," said Rella. She glanced at Shikrar. "Forgive me, Shikrar, but you might just be a little obvious."

He snorted. "True enough, lady, but I am only the first Soon there must be some kind of reckoning, for the Kantri are coming to Kolmar."

"When?" she asked.

"A moment," he said. I heard him bespeak Idai and knew he had left his truespeech broadscattered that I might do so.

Shikrar bespoke me at last, his voice subdued and weary. '7 am safely arrived, Idai," he said, "though I have ill news. There has been a great battle here. A rakshadakh called Berys sent an army of Rikti on to Varien and Lanen. She is stolen away."

"And Akhor?" I asked, hardly daring to breathe. He had no armour to protect him, no flame, no talons to rend or fangs to bite, what if he...

"Varien is well, save that his heart is riven in twain for fear of Lanen's fate," he said. I breathed again.

"Alas, Shikrar, would that I had better news to lighten your heart. I have—alas, Toklurik bespoke me as he was dying," I said. My heart was heavy with that loss, and now Lanen gone as well. "It is an evil day."

"It is, my friend. Let us then do what we may to mend it. How fare the Kantri ? "

"Rested and restless." I replied. "Is the way prepared for us?"

"I think now that it cannot be, Idai," he said. "There is none to ask and none to grant permission. However, there is a great demon master arisen in this land. All happens for a purpose, Idai, though the Winds might not make all clear at once. The Gedri have no defences against the Rakshasa." I felt the tiny smile in his mindvoice as he added, "I suspect if we simply follow our own instincts and rid the land of the Rakshi, we will be as welcome here as we could desire."

My heart lifted. My soul to the Winds, I had never dreamt of such a thing, but to arrive in all our power when the Gedri were in need—ah, yes, it would be the best introduction we could hope for.

"Come, then, Idai. Bring the Kantri home," said Shikrar. He told me again to keep high, and how to avoid the wall of air that was the edge of the Storms. "A moment, my friend" he said.

"I need your counsel," I said, turning to the other Gedri. "Where should we meet with the Kantri?" I hissed a little in faint amusement. "Where is there room for all of us to meet at once?"

"There's a plain just north of Wolfenden," said Will at once. "How many of you are there?"

"A hundred and eighty-nine," said Varien quietly.

"Then there should be enough space," said Will. "It'll be a good place to meet, there's little enough traffic comes down that road this time of year."

He told me how to find it and I bespoke Idai once more.

"Very well, my friend," she said, when I had instructed her. "We will meet there in about three days' time."

A thought crossed my mind. "What of Nikis, Idai?"

A dry little laugh escaped her. "Kretissh has said he will stay with Nikis for now, until we think of an easier way to carry her or until she wakes. All is well, Teacher-Shikrar. We come."

"Come then swiftly, my friend," I said. "We will meet in the plain in three days. Fly well and strong!"

It was done, then. The Kantri would arrive soon. But I had no intention of meeting my people on that plain.

Jamie turned to me as if he read my thoughts. "There is no need for us all to be there," he said. "I will not go. I am for Verfaren as fast as I can make those horses run. How much longer must we wait?"

"But a moment more, Jameth," I said. "I am as anxious to be gone as you are." I turned to Will and the young healers. "You have not spoken, Will, Vilkas, Aral. What will you do now?"

Aral opened her mouth and, looking at Vilkas, thought better of it. He spoke.

"I go with you, if you go to seek out Berys. The Lady La-nen will need us all, I think. And in any case I have a vow to fulfil." He glanced at Jamie and at me, half smiling. "Between the three of us, we may give Berys something to think about."

"Vil, you can't count any better than Varien," said Aral. She looked up. "Lord Shikrar, I hope you will forgive us for not accompanying you, but if we are to reclaim our lives we must seek out this bastard. Not what I'd choose to do, but there it is."

Shikrar nodded, but he was troubled. "I understand your desire for speed, my friends, but on behalf of my people I beg you to spare a brief hour to greet the Kantri." He gazed at each of us and I found that I was ashamed. "We have lost that only home that we have ever known, and we have flown to the limit of our strength to come here." He gazed full at me, then, and I heard the rebuke in his voice. "You at least must be here to greet them, my friend" he told me in true-speech. "For all that has changed, you are yet the Lord of the Kantri."

I bowed. "You speak truth, Hadreshikrar. I at least must meet with you all. La—" My throat closed as grief threatened to overwhelm me, but I took a long breath and spoke again. "Lanen would wish it so, I know it," I said.

It was Rella, ever practical, who then said dryly, "That field is right close to the road, and at this stage a small delay won't hurt. Surely we can all meet togemer and form a plan of action, rather than rushing into Verfaren waving our swords?" She turned to Jamie. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather have all the help I can muster."

"The Kantri are life-enemies of the Rakshasa," added Shikrar quietly, and I saw the smallest touch of the Attitude of Amusement in his stance. "If you are to face down a demon-master, what better weapon could you hope for than several hundred souls who delight in destroying demons?"

Vilkas and Aral nodded, and we all turned to Jamie.

"No," he said quietly, in the dispassionate voice that fell cold as ice on the ear. "I see the sense of your words, but I will not wait even so short a time." He turned to Rella. "We should get back to Wolfenden in a few days. When we come to the road, you go with the rest and talk to the dragons. I'll go ahead on my own to Verfaren and learn what I can about Berys. Meet me at the gates to the College of Mages at noon the day after we split up."

"Are you sure, Jamie?" asked Rella quietly, her face and voice carefully neutral.

"Sure as life," he said. I shivered.

She turned back to Shikrar. "Very well then, Shikrar. All but Jamie will meet with the Kantri. Perhaps together we can find a way to defeat Berys and get Lanen back."

"We do not yet speak for all, Lady Rella," I said, turning to the two who had not spoken. "Will? Salera?"

I was proud of myself, for I could understand all that was said. It was harder to form words than to understand them, but I was certain that would improve in time.

The strangest part of that time was how swiftly we of the Lesser Kindred took to our newfound senses. We had been but a breath away in any case, so perhaps it was not so strange after all, but when Aral asked what Will and I were doing I did not have to stop and think.

"Hhow sshould I not seek to aid the Lady of my people?" I asked. "Sshe it wass who brought uss reason, sshe and the Ssilver King. It iss a great debt. I sshall go with you."

Will laid his hand on my neck. "Then off we go all. We can plan the subtleties on the way, but I for one cannot wait longer."

We all stood and began to gather up our packs.

Only one thing more happened to delay us. We were preparing to leave when a great shout came up from deep in the trees. Aral had gone to fill her water skin when she caught sight of something lying in the wood.

It was the body of poor Maikel, Marik's healer, near an altar surrounded by demon symbols. Vilkas said it was the base of the demon line and performed a swift ceremony to dispel the darkness. "There is no way to tell where it goes, but Berys was in Verfaren when we left. There's a good chance he has returned there," he said grimly. "As long as he didn't have another one ready, we may have a chance."

Vilkas seemed to think that Maikel had paid the price of service to the demons, but I saw the expression on that poor dead face, above the ravaged body, and I knew in my soul that Vilkas was wrong. Maikel's face was at peace, almost there was a glimpse of joy about him. He had died fighting, for my money, and I sent a swift prayer for the soul of a solitary warrior winging to the Lady. We buried him beneath the trees and built a cairn over his grave.

The sun was setting as we left the high field and set off down the mountain.

I woke after what seemed like many long hours. I tried to speak, to cry out aloud, to call to Varien in truespeech. I could not make a sound.

I had been plagued by evil dreams, but to be truthful the waking was little better. I woke to find myself lying on a hard bed in a cell deep underground, or so I guessed from the cold and the damp. There was a lamp at one side, a heavy wooden door that was locked from the outside—of course— and a tiny grate with a tinier fire in it. I rose and threw on more coals. There seemed to be plenty.

I knew Berys had caught me, I remembered that much of the battle. At least, I had assumed that the man with the hideous face was Berys. I also seemed to remember seeing Shikrar arrive just as I was taken. I could only hope it was so. I remembered Akor and the efficient contempt with which he had killed demons. Perhaps Varien and the others lived after all.

There came then a rattle at the door. I looked around wildly for anything to use as a weapon. I had started towards the lamp when the door opened.

It was Berys, if that's who he was. He had the body of a lad only a little older than me, but he moved more like an old man. It was deeply unsettling.

He smiled at me and that was more unsettling yet. He waved his hand in a curious pattern and suddenly I found I could speak.

"Who in all the Hells are you?" I demanded. "And where am I?"

"My name is Berys, and you are mine," he said smugly. "Marik of Gundar's blood and bone. Are you comfortable?"

"It's cold as midwinter down here. A blanket or a cloak would be useful."

"I will arrange for a cloak to be brought to you," he said. He lifted his left hand to make some gesture and I realised with a shock that "hand" was the wrong word. There was only a stump.

"Oh, don't concern yourself," he said lightly. "It is nothing compared to what is going to happen to you."

"I see. And now you will mock me and threaten. So brave. Why haven't you killed me yet?" I said, snarling. Thank the Lady, I really was for that moment too angry to be afraid.

"Oh, no. You are not for death. Not yet," he said. "I have preparations to make. Even I must take a little time to properly welcome a major demon."

"May the Kantri find you and fry you where you stand!" I cried.

"Oh, I don't think that very likely," he said calmly. "I know they are coming, you see."

I was shocked at that.

"Oh, yes. They will be here any day now, I suspect," he said. "But the Demonlord will be here any moment, under my command. And this time he will be able to complete the work he began so long ago." Berys leaned forward and I got a good look at his face. It was young and fair in seeming, which made it worse. My stomach churned. I had the feeling that if you cut him he would bleed maggots.

"And I will have you to offer in fulfillment of prophecy, Marik's daughter. Your soul to demons, your body to rule Kolmar just long enough to wed with me. And then, ah, well"—he smiled a terrible slow smile. "Then I will amuse myself with you. There is so much pain that can be inflicted without causing death. You will be a challenge."

I leapt for his throat and just for a second I had him. I squeezed with all the might of my fury, but in a moment he summoned his power and threw me off.

"You will live so much longer in agony for that," he snarled, opening the door and hurrying out.

"Not if I get hold of you first," I shouted at the closing door.

But then I was alone, with a fate much darker than death before me.

"Varien, Varien," I cried in truespeech, knowing I could not be heard. The darkness of my future pressed me close, but I clung to the love I knew was in the world and seeking me. "Come soon, my heart," I cried aloud, in truespeech, deep in my soul, knowing none could hear me on any level.

I had little real hope that my loved ones would find me, but even the sound of their names was comfort in so dark a time and place.

I listened then, for the sound of a bird or a beast or even a guard outside the door.

There was nothing.

I was alone.

Idai was better than her word. It was but midmorning of the second day after Lanen was taken that I heard her voice. We all were coming down from the high hills to the crossroads, where we would go our separate ways.

"Shikrar, I see the coast!" she cried in my mind. "All green and glowing. It is glorious, Shikrar!"

"It is home, Idai," I answered. "Come, follow my voice, I would speak with you."

I was learning much of the Gedri on our travels. Varien was different, I knew him from of old, and the fact that he had banished despair and replaced it with a grim determination did not surprise me. That Jamie, who was Lanen's father, had done so as well impressed me deeply. I had come to appreciate the differences between them—Vilkas, Aral, Will the Golden. It is certain that large-souled creatures come in many forms.

Rella was my most constant companion after Varien. She asked after Kedra and his family, and demanded the whole history of our leaving the Dragon Isle. It eased my heart to speak with her. She reminded me in some ways of Idai.

The littling, Salera, was a constant delight in the midst of all our sorrows. Her speech improved by the hour it seemed. She was intelligent and gentle, knowing always who required speech and who needed silence as we walked. The very sight of her brought joy, for she was lovely in body as in spirit. I began to think very seriously that another name would need to be found for the Lesser Kindred. That had described beasts, not a free people. I must consider it.

It was Will who saw them first. We were come out of the hills and the others had pointed out what they named an "inn" in the distance, when he shouted and pointed upwards. The rest of us looked where he pointed, but there was no need. We would have heard them in a moment in any case. My heart gave a great leap as hope returned.

For the Kantri had arrived, the whole of our people rejoicing after loss and long travail, to a sunlit morning brightening a good green land, and they were singing. The sound was hauntingly familiar to me as I rose to join them, though I did not know it at first. I realised, though, as I opened my throat to add my voice, that it was in two parts. The first was the theme of our old home, the Place of Exile mat was no more, and the second—the second was a new song, of hope and peace and sun on the grass.

It was a song of homecoming. Our long exile over, the sunlight flashing on wings and striking sparks from soul-gems, the Kantri were come home.

n the deep ocean west of Kolmar there was once a large island, green and lush. Many ages ago a small box with a beating heart inside it was brought to the island by a demon and hidden deep in a great mountain.

The mountain looked, at first glance, a little like a vast dragon. The demon had a strange sense of humour, or the one who controlled the demon did, for the island was soon the home of the great dragons of legend.

Over the years the essence of the heart seeped out into the earth, the water, the air of the island. It poisoned all it touched, but not enough to kill. No, the poison was only enough to make worse the natural ailments that afflicted them—joint ill, early aging. A low birth rate.

Finally, there came one who sought the heart from afar. His searching shook the island to its foundations, for the heart did not wish to be found. The dragons fled, to escape the fire and the molten rock that sprang up to cover the island. There was only one who saw the ending, and by that time he was no longer capable of thought or speech.

The end came when he who owned the heart decided that he wanted it back. It was deeply buried under old and new stone and he had to reach down into the vitals of the island to retrieve it. The rocks burst asunder with a roar to shake the heavens at this final insult, and the mountains fell crashing into the sea.

But before death took Toklurik of the Kantrishakrim, he saw a wonder. Rock and ash and fire began to cling together. Made from the substance of the dying island—from raw molten stone, from the yellow dust that filled me air and Toklurik's lungs, from the poisonous gas that burned through his armour and choked him, from the fire that flowed over him and killed him at the last, there grew from out the death throes of the Place of Exile a vast shape, black and grey and red and sickly yellow. It rose into the air on hideous, impossible wings and circled the black smouldering rock that was the last remnant of the Dragon Isle.

Until at last, with a cry that sang joyfully of death, the great black dragon turned and flew swiftly to the east, towards the lands of men.