aThere was an ewer of water on the floor near the door, with a clean cloth folded neatly beside it. He scrubbed the blood off his hands, face and neck before he noticed that there was no cut on his forehead. The only evidence that head been wounded at all was in the bloodstained tunic and washcloth and the pinkened water in the bowl.

aTerran emptied the ewer out the window and hid his tunic and the stained washcloth among his clothes.a Tris drew a deep breath. aThat was Terranas first encounter with the god Altis. In further dream conversations with the night god, Terran was favored with immense power that mimicked the magic used by Winterseine.

aSeveral months later, Terrana"calling himself the Voice of Altisa"began to set up an organized religion worshipping Altis with the help of his father.a aGods,a swore Rialla. aIt wasnat Winterseine at all.a She thought about the odd way that Winterseine had given in to Terranas demands to bed her.

Tris spoke quietly, aThe only proof that the dream was real is that Terranas wound disappeared. A small cut in the scalp bleeds freely and heals fast. If the cut was actually above the hairline and very small, it would have been easy to miss it. Moreover, a blow to the head often leads to strange dreams that seem almost real.a Rialla continued the thought. aOf course he would dream of the old gods in such a setting, given his proficiency with the legends. Everyone knows that oil and blood are common components in spell-making; certainly the son of a magician would.a Tris picked up the logical discussion. aI understand that many human mages donat come into full power until after sexual maturity. If he experienced such a phenomenon after his dream, then he would attribute it to the old gods rather than himselfa"especially someone like Terran, whoad been taught he was useless.a Rialla rested her chin on her hands and gave him a half smile, though it was too dark for him to see it. aI should be reassured; all that we have said points to the idea that Terranas power is the product of latent magica"something we are familiar with. But . . .a aBut,a agreed Tris in a troubled voice, athere is the healing of Tamasas arm on the way to Winterseineas keep. I could feel no magic. I thought that a skilled human mage might use magic in such a way that I couldnat detect it, but I felt the magic in Winterseineas book from the moment we walked into his study.a aI canat feel him with my empathy at all,a added Rialla. There was a slight pause, then she said, aI think Winterseine believes Terran is a prophet. When Winterseine touches me, I can read him. There is an undercurrent of fear in him now that he never had before, when I was his slave. I think . . . I think that what heas afraid of is Terran.a aDo you think Terran really is a prophet?a asked Tris.

aYes.a aSo do I.a Rialla was silent for a moment, then she said, aIf Terran is really the prophet of Altis, the invasion we are facing is directed by a god. How powerful are the gods anyway?a She was pleased that her voice was steady.

Tris shrugged. aIave never had a close conversation with one. We can wait here and you can ask Terran if you like, but Iad prefer to remain ignorant. I understand the gods werenat strong enough to halt the Wizard Wars.a aMaybe they didnat want to,a commented Rialla.

aNow, thereas a cheerful thought,a replied Tris dryly.

Rialla laughed reluctantly. aWeall get this information to Ren and let him decide what to do with it.a aWill he believe it?a Tris questioned.

Rialla shrugged, flopped back and pillowed her head on her arms with a sigh, saying, aI donat know. I donat think I was ever intended to be a spy. When we get to Sianim, remind me to tell the Spymaster that he ought to stick with the professionals. I seem to have turned a simple information-gathering mission into defying the gods with a man who claims heritage with an obscure, all-but-forgotten race of tree-folk. Iam sure that if I reflect upon it I can explain how it happened, but I really donat want to think about it that much.a She caught a flash of white in the gloom as Tris smiled. aI havenat heard anything outside, so I think Iall go scout. Let me know if you come to any brilliant conclusions while Iam gone.a He picked a double handful of grasslike stalks out of the satchel and rolled over on his back to shimmy out of the thornberry cave.

After Tris left, Rialla sat up again. It would be good to have some time to herself again; she wasnat used to being continuously around people. In Sianim sometimes she would go for days without talking to anyone except her horses. The past month had left her little time to herself, and she was beginning to feel suffocated.

TRIS NEGOTIATED THE dark forest as if it were daylight; his eyes were well adapted to the dim light of the moon. He chose to follow their backtrail, checking carefully for signs of being followed. After traveling a respectable distance, he broke the stalks of grass into small pieces and scattered them on the trail he and Rialla had left. Histweed would be even more effective than pepper for irritating the nasal tissues of any animal tracking them. When he had used the last of the herb, he dusted his hands clean and looked around.

He had reacted without thought this afternoon when he realized Rialla had exposed herself to such danger. When shead backed away from his anger, her fear had tugged at the link that bound them together and triggered an atavistic rage for which head been unprepared. Although head been told a threat to the bond could cause such a reaction, head dismissed the warning when Terranas rape had called forth nothing unusual. Apparently the rape hadnat qualified as a threat to their bond. Head been able to control the rage this afternoon long enough to continue his attack deliberately, hoping she would fight back. If she had run from him . . . He would rather not know what could have happened. His laughter had been as much relief as amusement. He needed this time away from Rialla to collect himself.

Their backtrail covered, he decided to find the Uriah; it would be helpful to know where it was so they didnat waste time avoiding it unnecessarily. Without Riallaas human presence, he was free to travel by sylvan ways. That would let him find the Uriah and return to Rialla before she started to worry about him.

Humming under his breath, he called to the magic around him, and spun it swiftly to form a tunnel before him. He continued to spin as he walked into the shadowed way that lead straight through the hills and valleys lying in his path. The abundance of yew and oak here heightened the effect of his magic, and it took him minutes to cross the distance it had taken half a day to travel.

When he reached the place where he and Rialla had last seen the Uriah, he closed the tunnel and emerged near the stream theyad followed most of the day. He set off in an easy lope through the trees. It didnat take him long to find the kill: a moose. Its bones were scattered along the path the things had takena"from the tracks it seemed that there had been more than one Uriah.

Tris stumbled over half of one of the heavy leg bones, snapped neatly in two; he marveled briefly over the strength needed to crack the dense bone. He spared a moment to be glad the creatures had happened upon the moose rather than him and Rialla. The Uriahas trail was easy to follow, even in the dark. Broken branches and torn-up sod where several had briefly scuffled over something were as clear to Tris as a chalk arrow drawn on the trees.

Topping a hill, he caught sight of a small fire to his right. He dropped to a walk and left the Uriahas trail to investigate the camp.

As he neared the fire, Tris caught the salt-sweet smell of horses and was careful to stay downwind as he approached. The animals shifted uneasily at the noise he made climbing a tree, but they calmed down when he made no aggressive moves.

From his vantage point, he could see there was no one in the small clearing, but the wood in the fire hadnat been burning long. Tris assumed that whoever had built it would return, and he settled in for a long wait.

He made out Winterseineas voice first, as the campers returned.

a. . . donat understand why you insisted on leaving the guards behind. This is a dangerous place.a aPrecisely, Father. The more people that are running around the more likely we are to attract the attention of any brigands or Uriah that are in the area. I can handle thieves or Uriah, but I canat protect a troop of men from them.a Terranas voice sounded more decisive than Tris remembered.

Tris crouched where he was and watched as Terran and Winterseine returned to camp with several cleaned fish on a string.

aWe canat afford to let her get to Sianim with that dagger. If I am implicated in Karstenas death, it would keep me from controlling Darran. Are you sure that you know where she is? We havenat seen as much as a footprint.a From Winterseineas intonation, Tris received the distinct impression that it wasnat the first time that Winterseine had questioned the direction he and Terran were going in.

aI told you, sheas stopped a league or two southwest of here.a Terranas voice had a bite to it. aWeall catch up with her sometime tomorrow. You havenat seen her tracks because weare not following their trail. This route is more direct than the one theyave been taking.a Winterseine asked the question that was foremost on Trisas mind. aWhat do you mean their trail? I thought she was alone.a Terran grunted then said slowly, aNo. Sheas been traveling with someone else. I canat quite see who it isa"he may be a magician of sorts.a He paused, then commented, aHeas not with her now, but he was most of today. I suspect that he might have helped her get out of the hold.a aYou mean that sheas traveling with a magician?a asked Winterseine in arrested tones.

Terran nodded and began to prepare the fish for the fire.

Winterseine had his back turned so that Tris couldnat see his face, but tension coiled in the humanas stance. aShe stole my grimoire. We need to find them as soon as possible, before the magician realizes what he has.a Terran stopped working with the fish and looked at his father intently. aAnd just what is it that he has? Your spellbook? The one taken was the one that you wrote as an apprentice; certainly there is nothing there which a magician wouldnat already know.a Tris, watching unseen, thought about the sheets of parchment that had fallen out of Winterseineas spellbook and wondered.

Winterseine hesitated. aThere were some spells there my old teacher gave to me that I would rather not pass down . . . and I do not relish the thought of another wizard paging through the book.a Those pages must be important, thought Tris with satisfaction.

Terran turned his attention back to their dinner, and Tris took advantage of the moment to leave the tree. He eased quietly back into the forest and lost himself in the shadows.

Thoughtfully, he resumed his search for the Uriah. The search had more urgency now, as it seemed that he and Rialla would be traveling tonight, and he didnat want to be stumbling into a group of Uriah in the dark.

He smelled them long before he saw them and, remembering tales of their acute senses, used his magic to draw the darkness more tightly around him and cover any sound he might make before he approached more closely.

There were six of them sleeping; Tris was struck by how human they looked at rest. When head seen the one before, he hadnat noticed the resemblance; they didnat move like humans any more than a wolf moves like a dog. At rest in the dark, they seemed nothing more than a filthy group of people.

Tris found another tree to climb, one that gave him a clear view of the Uriah. All of them were male, but Tris had expected that. Head never heard of a female Uriah.

On the far side of the pack, one of them had used the root of an old oak as a pillow. There was a heavy branch above it that looked sturdy. Closing his eyes, Tris felt for the magic that connected all of the trees in the forest, then he looked for the particular tree he wanted. When he found it, he traveled along the flow of magic, reemerging on the branch of the oak, with the Uriah sleeping just below him.

As he looked down, he realized he was closer than head ever been to one of them; a shiver ran up his spine. Irritated with himself for his uncharacteristic fear, he craned his neck until there were no leaves between him and the sleeping creature. That was when he noticed something around its waist. A sturdy leather belt hung loosely on the Uriahas hips; the broken strap of a sword or knife sheath was still attached to it, though the sheath was gone.

The thing below him, in spite of everything Tris had ever heard, had once been human. The healer in him stirred. If this were some kind of disease, he might be able to reverse it.

A single Uriah he might have held still with his magic so he could examine it, but there were too many for him to risk coming any closer. The one below him was touching the root of the oak Tris perched in. It would not be as efficient as touch, but the tree could serve as a conduit for his magic.

Tris braced himself more securely on his branch, then searched for the thread of magic all living things have. He followed the flow of the treeas magic to its roots and reached out for the creature that he knew was there, and touched . . .

BACK IN THE sheltering thornberry, Rialla rose to her hands and knees at Trisas agony. Taken unprepared, she cried out. She sought him, dropping her barriers recklessly in her worry.

Rialla? It was faint, but it was clearly his voice that answered her frightened call.

Are you all right? she asked urgently, though she could tell that he wasnat hurting now. The revulsion and shock that he felt were still strong, and made it difficult for her to read his thoughts over the din of emotion.

Yes . . . talk later, when I get back, he said.

She sent her agreement and withdrew from him, waiting alone for his return.

The Uriah had woken at Trisas involuntary cry. Realizing that food perched just overhead, the one below him began to climb the tree, making an odd mewling sound as it did so.

Tris pressed his face to the rough bark of the oak. It was almost more than he could do to reach for another tree near enough for his purposes. He found another oak on the far side of the clearing and used his magic to pull him there. It took four such jumps before he quit smelling the Uriah.

Tree bark slid past his hands as Tris fell to his knees with bruising force, retching helplessly.

The Uriah that head touched was dead, but held to mock life by human magic so twisted that when he touched it and tried to coax it to his use it felt as if head touched molten rock with his hand.

Tris took in a shuddering breath and rose to his feet. Seeking out the stream, he threw cold water on his face. The shock of the temperature did much to alleviate his queasiness. Traveling through the trees was hard and draining work; it took him two tries before he was able to form the tunnel that would take him back to where Rialla waited.

RIALLA WAS PACING outside the cave of thornberry when Tris came back with his backpack. On a forked stick near her were two good-sized trout.

aAre you hurt?a she asked, taking a step toward him.

aNo, but Iam hungry.a She eyed him narrowly, but the link between them informed her that he was not lying. After catching the fish, shead gathered enough wood for a small fire, and she nodded at it. aIs it safe to light the fire? I donat know about you, but I prefer my food cooked.a aThe Uriah are too far from here to smell the fish cooking. Our other pursuers are doubtless asleep by now.a He lit the fire with a bit of magic and sat down near it.

aOther pursuers?a Rialla questioned, filching the knife he carried in his boot.

aWinterseine and son are camped an easy morningas walk from here. Apparently Terran doesnat have any trouble tracking our movements from a distance.a He described briefly what head overheard.

aIs that where you got hurt?a Rialla questioned with a touch of concern, cleaning the fish. She discarded the entrails behind a nearby bush.

Tris shook his head. aNo, that was the Uriah and my own stupidity. After I saw Winterseine and Terran, I hunted for the Uriaha"thereas a pack of sixa"so we wouldnat run into them trying to escape Winterseine. When I found them, I thought that I could help them with a touch of healing. Thatas where I got hurt.a aStupidity is right,a said Rialla with a dawning grin. aYou lectured me all day about Uriah. Do I get to return the favor?a aNo,a he answered. aI think I learned my lesson the hard way.a She laughed and handed him a fish and a handful of willow branches. Taking her own fish, she hooked it on a larger forked willow branch and began to weave a crude basket around it. aTell me how you traveled aan easy morningas walka and back in such a short time.a aMagic,a he replied easily as he worked on his fish.

They roasted their fish in silence broken only by the spit and hiss of the fire. Watching flames dance, Rialla examined all the possibilities that she could think of, until only one remained.

aHow long would it take you to travel to Sianim by yourself?a she asked.

Tris looked up from his fish. After a moment he shrugged. aI can only use the faster ways until I reach the road, so it should take two days, maybe three, assuming the cook was right when she told me how far it was from the crossroads to Sianim.a He turned his gaze back to the fire. aIall not leave you behind. Getting the dagger and the books to Sianim is not worth your life.a aNor is it worth yours,a she answered. aI agree, but I donat think theyall kill mea"Iam a valuable slave, remember? I believe Terran is the Voice of Altis, and it is important that Sianim be made aware of it. You said Terran can track me; then let him. It will give you time to get the journal away. If we wait for him to catch up with us, they may win it all. It would be idiotic to assume your magic could overcome both a magician and a prophet of Altis. In fact, your being with me could put me in worse danger. They still think I am a slave. They want the items we stole, and theyall keep me alive at least until they find out where those things are.a Tris said nothing, so Rialla spoke again. aI might be able to evade them while you take the books to Sianim and return here to help me. Without the necessity of reaching Sianim, I can choose a path that gives me an advantage over a mounted pursuit.a She knew that if Terran had some god-given means of tracing her, she would be caught. If she were careful, though, she might be able to stall them until Tris could return and help her escape.

aYour fish is burninga was all the reply Tris made. He pulled his own dinner out of the fire.

Rialla didnat push him. She picked up her fish and began to eat.

Finally Tris threw his fish bones into the fire with a harsh sigh. aIall be back in four or five days. Donat worry, I can find you. Now, tell me how to locate your Ren.a Rialla hesitated, trying to decide how to describe the ancient maze in which Ren kept his office. At last she said, aI think that it would be easier to tell you how to find Laeth. He should be back by now. Ren is more likely to listen to him then he is to a stranger.a She explained where Laethas apartment was. aIf you canat find the apartments, then just ask anyone in the street how to find the Inn of the Lost Pig; the innkeeper is a frienda"heall know where Laeth is.a aIall find him,a he said shortly.

Tris slid under the thornberry branches and returned with the spellbook and its loose pages in one arm and the journal tucked under his belt. Regaining his feet, he walked to the satchel and brought out the dagger. As he bent over, the pages won their freedom at last, sliding out of Winterseineas book to flutter to the ground.

aI donat think that I want to leave those for Winterseine to find,a said Tris, giving them a grim look. aNor am I overanxious to pick them up.a aWhat about the fire?a asked Rialla.

aItas worth trying,a answered Tris.

With the aid of the cooking sticks, Tris lifted the pages and set them into the small camp fire.

For a moment nothing happened, then a hollow boom echoed through the woods, and the flames converged on the parchment sheets, deserting the wood until even the coals were black and cold. Gradually the flames died down and left the pages glowing.

aThis could be difficult,a commented Tris in an abstract tone.

aCursed difficult,a agreed Rialla, shaken.

Tris turned to grin at her, saying in a theatrical voice, aBut I have the most destructive force in nature at my call. Watch and marvel, fair lady.a He hunted diligently under the nearby trees, summoning a magelight to help him. At last he retrieved a wrinkled sacklike ball that he pick up gingerly between two fingers. He carried it back to the dead fire and set it delicately on the still-glowing sheets. In the light emitted by the radiant parchment, Rialla thought the gray ball looked shriveled and harmless.

aWhat is that?a she asked.

aSpore sack.a Tris used one of the cooking sticks and prodded the leathery sack lightly. Rialla plugged her ears as the ball exploded . . . with an inaudible puff. She could see fireless smoke escape from the ball and leisurely settle in an ashy mist upon the pages.

Rialla snickered.

Tris ignored her and stared intently at the spore-bearing parchment. The pagesa glow began to dim then flow outward, fading as the nearby grass lengthened and flowers bloomed from the magic that was released. Rialla could hear a soft sighing sound as the leaves of the nearby bushes brushed against one another, growing with the magic that human mages had used to saturate two thin sheets of lambskin.

Gradually, darkness regained its hold and the light faded. Tris stood over the dead coals of the fire and called a magelight.

As they watched, a soft breeze danced lightly against their skin and dissolved the buff-colored sheets into minute fragments that scattered in the windas path, leaving a ring of white mushrooms on the ashes of the fire.

Rialla laughed softly. aThe most destructive force in nature, huh? Rot.a Tris grinned. aExactly.a

TEN.

aTris,a said Rialla, as she watched Tris double-check to make sure that he had everything. aI donat know if Iave ever thanked you for what youave done. If I donat see you again, I wanted you to know that Iave,a she gave him an odd smile, as she realized the truth of what she was saying, aenjoyed our association.a He gave her an indecipherable look that faded to humor as he stood up. aIf I donat see you again then . . .a He moved swiftly for one so large and cupped her chin in his hand.

As his words trailed off, Rialla thought about backing away from his light hold. With a mental shrug she decided to enjoy his kiss instead. When he stepped back, his breathing was as unsteady as hers.

He held her gaze and said firmly, aIall see you in three or four days.a Rialla watched him run until he was lost in the darkness, before starting off on her own. If Terran and Winterseine were so close, she would need to travel through the night to stay ahead of them.

Rather than continuing in the direction that theyad been traveling, Rialla moved directly away from where Tris had indicated Terran and Winterseine were camped.

The path she took led through the thickest undergrowth she could find. Without a trail Rialla was forced to struggle through the interwoven leaves. Branches grabbed at her hair and tripped her when she least expected it. When she rapped her shins against a fallen limb for the fifth time in as many minutes, she reminded herself that shead chosen this path because it was much more difficult for a rider to get through, and pressed on.

Tris had told her that the ground in this direction was marshy, and twice she was forced to edge around boggy patches that looked like open meadow. She crossed a rock-strewn stream that left her feet wet and cold. By the time morning light began to filter through the trees, she had covered several miles, and the constant awareness of Tris had faded.

As she journeyed, Rialla used the position of stars, and later the sun, to guide her so she traveled in a straight line Terran could not shorten. She walked until she was stumbling with exhaustion, then climbed up into the shelter of a large old apple tree to rest in the late afternoon.

As the sun was setting, Rialla was up and walking again. She tried to contact Tris, but evidently he was now too far away to reach. Twice she found bear tracks, but no sign of Uriah. She would have been more comfortable in the desert of her childhood rather than the temperate and moist climate of southern Darran, but this had its advantages as well. Because of the high rainfall, there were streams scattered all over the gentle hills and valley bottoms.

Knowing that Terran could track her by whatever mysterious process his god allowed, she didnat try to hide her tracks. Instead she waded through mud and crawled under thickets that the men on horseback would have to ride around.

On the afternoon of the second day they found her.

She was drinking from a stream when she heard their horses, and she sat back on her heels to wait for them.

Winterseine spurred his horse to a gallop and pulled it up rearing in front of Rialla. Blank-faced, she focused on the horseas legs, noting absently that its hooves needed to be trimmed and reshod.

Winterseine jumped to the ground and grabbed her by the hair, pulling Rialla roughly to her feet.

aBitch!a he spat. aWhere is it? Where is the book?a aShe can hardly answer while you are shaking her like that, Father,a said Terran in mild rebuke.

Isslic dropped her to her knees and grabbed something from his saddle. aAnswer me, bitch. Where is the book you stole? Where is the dagger?a Keeping in mind the part she had decided to play, Rialla answered dully, aHe took them.a The whip whistled when it came down on her back. Terran caught his fatheras hand before he could hit her again.

aSheas telling the truth.a There was cold certainty in the younger manas voice. aWhy donat you ask her to explain before you damage her beyond reclamation? Your temper could cost you a valuable dancer.a Without waiting for his fatheras response, Terran addressed Rialla. aWho took them?a Rialla eyed Winterseine warily from under her brows. He was all but shaking with rage at Terranas interference.

She kept her voice submissive as she answered, careful to be truthfula"it sounded as if Terran could tell if she werenat. aThe man who traveled with me, the one Laeth told me would come here. He told me that it was time to leave the hold and go to Sianima"so we did. After a day or so, he said that you were following mea"so he left with the dagger.a aHe took the book too?a snapped Winterseine.

Rialla nodded her head.

aHow long ago did he leave?a The slave traineras voice was tight.

aTwo days,a Rialla said evenly.

aThis man you were with,a asked Terran, his voice soft, awas he a magician?a aYes.a aWhat was his name?a aHe named himself Sylvan.a aAfter the forest-folk?a said Terran, sounding momentarily intrigued. aFather, do you know of such a mage?a Winterseine shook his head. aI doubt he was using his true name.a Terran turned back to Rialla. aHow did he find the dagger?a aHe spent several days searching before he accidently bumped the book you hid it in,a Rialla replied. aHe disguised himself as a woodcraftsman. Head learned the trade in his youth.a aWhy did you escape with him? I would have thought that you knew better than that by now.a It was Winterseineas question.

Rialla tilted her head and spoke in the tones of one stating the obvious. aHe said it was time to go. Laeth is waiting for me in Sianim.a aDonat you understand, Father? She wasnat escaping. Laeth is still technically her owner. He told her to obey this Sylvan. It isnat up to her to question his orders.a Terran petted her cheek with the same affection a man might show a dog. aSheas a good girla"arenat you?a Rialla remained impassive though anxiety coursed through hera"was that sarcasm that she heard in Terranas voice? It was hard for her to decipher from his tone alone, but she didnat dare look up at his face.