If Rafe wanted to talk, I wouldn't try to stop him, but I wasn't going to ask any more questions, because a nap after breakfast was sounding better all the time.

Must have been the baby making me sleepy...or a reaction to the terror of thinking I might lose Leo. Either way, after brewing a restorative and bathing Leo's face and chest with it, I felt as though I could have slept the day away. Rafe probably wouldn't let me, though, *200 *38*.

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and while I couldn't really blame him for that, I was beginning to develop a definite grudge against the kidnappers.

After breakfast, Rafe busied himself with looking after the horses and cutting some branches and setting up a rack of sorts to dry out some things by the fire.

Some of the things he had me look at, but after a while I got so sleepy that he quit asking. I was thankful that at least he had something to occupy himself while I snuggled up with Leo and dozed.

I was beginning to get hungry again, so it must have been nearly noon when Rafe called out to me.

"Tisana," he said urgently. "Your bird is back-and he brought a friend."

I rolled over and looked up into Royillis's bright eyes.

"I have returned," he said, bowing his head slightly.

"But I may not stay to help you just now, so I have brought someone else to aid in your search."

Looking past him, the worst of my fears was realized.

Of all the birds to choose from on Utopia, he'd brought along an otterell!

"Oh, great!," I grumbled. "You just had to bring one of them, didn't you?"

"Craynolt has agreed to help you," Royillis said.

"There was no one else."

I wondered why, but thanked him anyway. Maybe my luck with birds hadn't improved as much as I thought. "I don't want to seem ungrateful," I went on, "but otterells are...well, they're different from other birds."

"They are not birds at all," Royillis said a bit haughtily. "They are reptiles. And yes, they are strange, but they can fly."

*201 *38*.

202.

Cheryl Brooks "How is it that you can talk to him?" I asked. "I wouldn't have thought you'd understand one another."

Royillis gave me a look, as if to say he didn't really understand the otterell very well, either, but I suppose they had their own ways of communicating.

"Well, I guess weird help is better than no help at all,"

I said in what I hoped was a reasonably grateful tone.

"And thank you, Royillis. I do appreciate your efforts."

"You are very welcome," he said. "I wish you good fortune."

I looked over at Craynolt, hoping he hadn't picked up on what I'd said to Royillis, because if that were the case, he might have been less anxious to help.

"It's very nice to meet you, Craynolt," I said carefully. "Thank you for coming."

Craynolt stared back at me, cocking his owl-like head to one side. "You are the witch," he said gravely. "We have spoken before."

Obviously I hadn't gotten his name that last time we'd met, though I might have guessed he was the same one, since he did seem familiar, but it goes without saying that all otterells look pretty much alike-if you've seen one reptilian owl, you've seen them all. I was momentarily cheered, because this was easily the most coherent thing he'd ever said to me. Unfortunately, just when I was beginning to think he might have been sick or delirious that last time, he spoke again, and I knew we were in for an interesting time, to say the least.

"I am the wind and the desert," Craynolt said, his large eyes seeming to gaze off into the distance. "The wind will bring you light, and the desert will not fail."

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warrior 203.

"Oh, great," I muttered. "I can see he hasn't changed a bit."

Rafe had wandered over by this time. "What does he say?" he asked anxiously. "Has he seen them?"

"I have absolutely no idea," I said roundly. "You talk to him, Rafe."

"I can't talk with animals!" he said indignantly.

"You're the witch-you talk to him!"

"I'll go stark, raving mad if I do!" I declared. "He's...I don't know...but he's..." I broke off there, throwing my hands up in frustration, not even able to come up with an apt description of him.

"Royillis," I said desperately, "Please, please help us! I can't understand him!"

"I cannot stay," Royillis replied. "You will learn his manner of speech, and he will help you."

"Maybe," I conceded, "-by the time I've gone as crazy as he is! And what good will that do?"

"He is not mad," Royillis assured me. "Look for the meaning behind his words and you will understand."

"But we don't have time to sit around and solve riddles!"

Craynolt flapped his leathery wings, as though growing impatient with me. "I am the wind and the desert," he said again. "The wind will bring you light, and the desert will not fail."

I gave up. "Okay, Rafe, and anybody else within hearing," I said aloud. "What the devil does it mean when he says: 'I am the wind and the desert. The wind will bring you light, and the desert will not fail'?"

Rafe looked at me as though his suspicions about *203 *39*.

204.

Cheryl Brooks my sanity had at last been laid to rest, and I truly had gone mad.

"It's not me that's crazy!" I exclaimed. "Honestly, that's the way he talks!"

I sent a repeat of that out to all the animals present, and not one of them had any ideas whatsoever, though Sinjar thought it might mean something about how fast he could fly.

I looked up at Royillis, thanking again him for bringing help, and then did my best to seem sincere as I welcomed Craynolt into our increasingly motley band of adventurers. Royillis took his leave of us and flew away in a flash of iridescent purple. I gazed longingly after him until Craynolt stepped forward and peered at me with his huge, mystical eyes.

"The soul is no longer alone," he said. "Where there was one, there are more."

Rolling my eyes, I asked, "How many more?"

"Not two or four," he replied. "But more."

"You know, this could get old real fast," I grumbled, but perhaps I was going about it all wrong. I tried for something more direct. "Do you know where Rafe's boys are?"

"The light is dark until dawn."

So much for the direct approach. "I'd never have guessed that," I said dryly. "And by that, I suppose you mean we'll find them in the morning?"

"The light comes when darkness departs," he said.

That was when I decided that by the time the light got there, the darkness wouldn't have the slightest idea of what to do with it.

*204 *39*.

Chapter 10.

I felt much better after lunch, but it was taking so long to salvage everything, dry it out, and then pack it up again, that I was pretty much giving up on the idea of being able to strike camp, whether Leo woke up or not. The snow was melting, too, which would have made the footing pretty tricky, even if it didn't freeze up again during the night. Our next day of travel would probably be as difficult as the rest had been-perhaps even more so if it was icy-and though none of us came right out and said it, we were all just plain tired.

We spent the rest of the day there, and, although Rafe had done well enough when he had something to occupy his time, he was clearly chafing with the delay.

Fortunately, he did a good job of not taking it out on me. So the time wasn't totally wasted, I sent Craynolt out on a reconnaissance mission. It pains me to admit it, but I was hoping he'd take a really long time to do it, because I was dreading having to decipher his report when he returned. In the meantime, I brewed a different potion for Leo using alowa bark-which is a good, allaround tonic-but was afraid I'd drown him if I dribbled too much of it in his mouth at a time. I had to resort to laying a cloth soaked with it on his chest to be absorbed through his skin, as I had done before, which wasn't nearly as effective. I still felt reasonably confident that he was going to be okay, but the fact that he remained *205 *39*.

206.

Cheryl Brooks unresponsive to my touch had me worried. Aside from that, while I did try to enjoy our day of rest, any enjoyment I might have had was overshadowed by the fact that the kidnappers probably weren't stopping, and our supplies were already dwindling, especially the sacks of grain and chopped hay we'd brought along for the horses-which wasn't too surprising, given that we'd acquired three more of them.

Being late winter, even if the snow all melted, there wouldn't have been much in the way of forage, and there was also the return trip to be considered, which, if we were successful, would mean that there would be two more (human) mouths to feed. Speed would be essential, as well, because we'd undoubtedly be pursued.

The grim truth that we might have to kill more men to retrieve the boys-and possibly more on the journey home-disturbed me. I didn't want to be involved with any more killing-the three lives we had taken already weighed heavily on my mind. It was all so wrong...

The day grew warm-almost to the point that I didn't need my cloak anymore-and we had to stake the horses out in the open to keep them from being buried under another avalanche from the trees. I took advantage of the time to see what I could learn from the horses we'd taken from the kidnappers. I tended to them, giving all of them a good rubdown while I checked them for saddle sores and such.

The big bay seemed to be growing fond of me, gently nuzzling me after I'd given him some grain.

He seemed surprised that I could communicate with him-apparently our horses hadn't passed on that little tidbit-and after he apologized for nearly killing me, *206 *39*.

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we chatted a bit, and I was able to glean some important information from him.

According to Darley, which was the bay's name, we were headed toward his home in the next village, and since he knew the way, this would at least spare us the need to pick up the kidnappers' trail again. When I asked him about the possibility of getting more supplies, he replied that it was a small but prosperous settlement and we should have no difficulty buying anything we needed. Unfortunately, given the circumstances, we would probably be stealing rather than buying, which would still take more time than we would have at our disposal. It was beginning to look as though our return trip was going to be a fast but hungry journey.

When I asked Darley why he thought the boys had been kidnapped, he didn't seem to have any good ideas, other than the fact that the local lord, who was apparently the one responsible for the kidnapping, had no wife and, therefore, no children. He did have a formidable stronghold, however. Darley reported that this was a very large building, surrounded by a high, palisaded wall in which were set two heavily barred doors, and it was defended by a good-sized force of fighting men.

The news that the lord had no children of his own was the only possible explanation for the kidnapping, for he would need someone to succeed him, though if that were the case, I wondered why he couldn't father some of his own. Surely, being the lord, he could find someone to marry him! It seemed stupid to take someone else's kids just to do that. Downright weird, actually-unless he was truly incapable of siring any of his own.

Darley didn't know for sure, and though he didn't *207 *39*.

208.

Cheryl Brooks seem to think that the lord was necessarily a bad man, he put forth the notion that he might, perhaps, be a gelding.

I had to smile at his reasoning and assured him that humans were seldom castrated-though some of them probably should have been.

"But why would he want to take Rafe's children, specifically?" I wondered. "Why not adopt some orphan or other?" It was possible to do that, though the custom was seldom put to the test when it came to inheriting property. A man could name his heir, but in such cases, the succession was usually contested, and a struggle for possession was inevitable. "He'd have to know that Rafe would come after them."

"I don't know," Darley said. "But, then, I've never been able to understand human behavior. Most of the time, I have no idea what they want me to do, and just when I think I've got it figured out, they do something that completely contradicts what they did before." He snorted in frustration. "If you were to ask me, I'd say that most humans are totally irrational."

I found it hard to disagree with that assessment, because we do ask some strange things of horses-like embarking on a wild-goose chase during a snowstorm.

Even Morgana didn't always think I was behaving rationally, and I had the good fortune to be able to explain things to her-but that didn't necessarily mean we shared the same priorities.

It was late in the afternoon when, to my immense relief, Leo finally began to stir. This time, when I slid beneath the blankets, his purring began almost immediately, and as I leaned closer to kiss him, I felt a delightful thrill as his cock began to stiffen in my hand.

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"You know," I said ominously, "if you were faking your imminent death, you'd better never admit it, because, if so, I might have to knock a few knots on your head."

"I may already have one or two," he murmured, reaching up to rub his temple. "What happened?"

"You got buried under several feet of snow," I replied.

"Given your weather prediction, we obviously should have camped out in the open. I didn't realize we were under a tree until I heard water dripping on the tent. We were almost both buried in a snowdrift, and I'm not sure Rafe could have gotten us out of there quickly enough if I hadn't been there to melt the snow. Good thing you can hibernate like that. Feeling okay now?"

Nodding, he squinted at the sun, which was hanging low in the sky. "Have I been asleep long?"

"Almost all day," I replied. "And believe me, I tried to wake you up! You had me worried there for a while."

"My kind sleep for long periods to recover from injury," he said. "One time I slept for three days."

Three days. Rafe probably would have gone on without us in that case-and I wouldn't have blamed him if he had. In fact, as testy as he normally was, it was a wonder he'd stayed put for one day. I was anxious to get a move on, myself, especially in light of what Darley had told me. Retrieving those boys from the stronghold he described would be difficult, if not impossible.