'Why do you allow this male to speak to you so disrespectfully?" she asked.

'He is my husband!"

'He is not like you," said the shaman reasonably as they strolled up the hill.

Grass pulled along Liath's thighs. The sun shone down. There was not a single scrap of cloud in the heavens. She had never seen a sky so vast, hills tumbling away on either side and the blue dome stretching away to the ends of the earth.

'No," she agreed at last. He was no scholar; he was not bookish or thoughtful, not educated, not restful, a man interested more in action than in words. A good soldier, an excellent captain, and a loyal prince. Hugh had taunted him with the title "prince of dogs," after his year as Bloodheart's captive, and there was something to the name. But she did not know what he was now. He had lived for four years without her, years which to her had seemed scarcely more than a week. "I don't know how he has changed while I walked the spheres."

'It is best to set aside a pura which has become unpredictable and dangerous."

'That isn't our custom. He needs time to recover from his wound." From his anger.

The shaman flicked back her ears. Reaching the crest, they turned to look down at the centaur encampment settled near the base of a hollow.

'How can I save my daughter?" Liath asked.

'She did not die when the thread was severed. That must give us hope that she may yet recover."

'She must eat and drink in order to live."

'It may be possible to sustain her for a time by means of sorcery."

'My father said that a cocoon changes a caterpillar to a butterfly. It's a magical binding in and of itself. Would sorcery change her?"

'I do not know. But if we cannot wake her, it may be the only way to keep her alive until we discover how to heal her."

Liath sighed.

To the east the land fell away into the valley; the distant river winked at them, light dazzling on the flowing water as it cut through the grass in giant curves. Farther east, the crags shone where the afternoon sunlight played across them, catching glints of color. To the west the sun blinded, but if she squinted she made out a countryside of hills rumpled up like the ridges in a furrowed blanket.

'Is that smoke rising?" she asked, pointing to threads of gray curling up into the sky.

The shaman had no need to narrow her eyes to see what Liath indicated. "Prince Sanglant's army camps there."

'He has an army with him? Where did he get an army? How long does it take to travel from here back to Wendar?"

'Many months of travel, I would imagine."

'He brought an army so far with him? How can that be possible? He must have suffered many losses, of men and animals both."

'I do not know. It is not a subject we discussed."

'No," said Liath, wondering what Li'at'dano had discussed with Sanglant or if she had discussed anything. "We must send word to his people that we are here. Why did he leave his army and go out into the grass alone?"

'To stalk the beast."

'The griffins?"

'Nay. The man. The killer. But griffins as well. He seeks griffin feathers and sorcerers to combat these 'Seven Sleepers' you also have spoken of. He hoped to find both here in the grasslands."

'Did he?"

'He found you, and he found me and those under my tutelage. As for the griffins-" She gestured toward the sky where one or both of the griffins circled, never content to let Liath out of their sight. "There they are."

They walked down into the centaurs' encampment. The layout had a subtle warp to it: the largest of the round felt tents lay in the center while the rest radiated out from it in a spiral pattern. The centaurs traveled light; despite their numbers she counted only twenty tents, ten of which lay in the outermost ring like a protecting corral although it wasn't apparent that the centaurs wished to keep anyone out, or in, except wolves.

The centaurs had brought a number of their Kerayit allies with them, including the healer who attended Sanglant, and two dozen wagons, most of which were rigged to be pulled by oxen while only two were constructed to allow centaurs themselves to haul the vehicle. Most of the wagons sat along the outermost ring to provide a barrier, but one, gaudily painted and built like a tiny cottage on wheels, sat next to the centralmost tent where Blessing slept and Sanglant healed.

There were horses, too-real horses, but they were kept separate, watched over by both centaurs and their human allies. Nearby, some men sheared sheep, collecting greasy wool in huge leather pouches.

As Liath and the shaman came into camp, centaurs surveyed Liath curiously but did not approach. A few coltish centaur children followed their dams, and half a dozen colts did as well, nudging at the teats of the centaur females. All of the adult centaurs carried bows slung over their backs and a quiver full of arrows.

A trio of human women cooked mutton stew in an iron kettle slung over a campfire; another polished jesses and leather hoods for goshawks while her companion mended a cage; a pair beat wool while next to them others poured boiling water over beaten wool in preparation for making the felt with which they covered their tents and made their rugs and some of their clothing. Five men were engaged in churning milk in a skin vat; the milk bubbled. Its tart scent stung Liath's nostrils. Suddenly she realized how hungry she was.

'Come," said the shaman. "There is one more you must meet because we two will not be enough to defeat those who oppose us."

'We are allies, then? You have not said so before this."

'If we were not allies, you would not walk beside me, nor I beside you. I am not foolish enough to set myself and my people against one whom even the griffins fear. You are not like the other humans, Bright One. Your father has given you the form worn by those born into the tribe of humankind, but your heart and your soul had their birth in the heavens."

'It is true I do not stand easily in either world, here or there. It is hard to choose. I cannot have both."

'Then you have chosen." They halted in front of the painted wagon. "Here lives my apprentice. She has met her luck, so now she must remain hidden from the sight of those who are not her family or her slaves. But you, I think, exist beyond such earthly prohibitions. You and she must meet. Go in."

'I do not wish to break any prohibitions if it means harm may come to another."

Li'at'dano had a horsey way of laughing, more like a snort. "The harm comes not to Sorgatani but to the one afflicted by her power. I believe you are powerful enough to be safe."

Liath laughed. A queer sense of exhilaration filled her. "Then I pray you are right."

She felt no fear, only curiosity, as she mounted the steps that took her up to the high bed of the wagon. Before she could scratch on the door, it opened, sliding sideways along the wall, and she stepped over the threshold as she ducked inside.

She expected to feel closed in, but magic was at work here; it tingled right down to her bones. The inside of the wagon was considerably larger than the outside. There was no other way to account for the spacious chamber that greeted her astonished gaze, which resembled the interior of a round tent. The corners of the space were lost in shadow and possibly did not properly exist. Walls fluttered in the breeze, sagging gently in and out, although she could have sworn that, outside, they were constructed of wood planks. Above, spokes supported the round felt roof, radiating out from a central pole that, set straight up, pierced a smoke hole. Definitely, absolutely, she had seen no central pole sticking out of the wagon's roof. The heavens glimpsed through the smoke hole had a gray shimmer shot through with shifting sparks, not the hard blue shine of the open sky.

On the left-hand side of the tent sat a boxed-in bed with a chest resting at its foot. A colorful felt blanket ornately decorated with bright animals-a golden phoenix, a silver griffin, a red deer-spread tautly across the mattress, tucked in on all sides. A layer of rugs and two cushions completed the furnishings, because the rest of that left side of the tent lay empty; it was uninhabited. An altar stood in front of her, beyond the center pole, containing a golden cup filled to the brim with oil with the surface lit and burning, a mirror with handle inlaid with gold and pearls, a silver handbell, and a stoppered flask. Beside the altar table squatted a portable stove. Coals glowed within this brazier, and a bronze bucket sat on a slab of rock beside it, filled with ash, smoking slightly. A young woman crouched beside the brazier with an iron ash shovel gripped in her right hand; she stared up at Liath as one might gape at a bull that comes crashing into church in the middle of prayers. A second woman, much older, stood next to a high bench; she paused in the act of pouring a white liquid into cups. She held a beautiful double-spouted silver ewer, the necks, heads, and open mouths of camels forming the spouts.

'You are called Bright One because you shine."

Liath looked around for the source of the voice.

The third person in the room sat on a broad couch. Her figure was veiled by a gauzy net of finest translucent silk that tented the wide couch, strung up on posts set into the four corners. Next to this couch-bed stood a tall chest cunningly worked into a shelf fitted with large and small drawers, each one lovingly painted with antlered deer and arrogant rams. Beside it a beautiful saddle was set up on a wooden tree, its side skirts brushing the carpet; the silver ornaments that decorated the frame and seat winked in the smoky light. A bridle had been thrown carelessly across the cantle.

'Drink with me." Her voice was light and airy but firm. She gestured for Liath to move forward. Liath's footsteps made no sound on carpets laid over a woven grass mat. As she approached, the other woman swept aside the gauze veil so that Liath could sit on an embroidered cushion at the opposite end of the couch.

Liath had never had trouble seeing in dim light, but the breath of sorcery hazed her vision; she could not get a clear look at the other woman's face although she sat little more than an arm's length from her. She wore a robe woven of golden silk. Her ornaments gleamed in the dim light: a tall headdress stamped with gold from which hung streamers of beads and gold lacework, and earrings curved like reed boats dangling fish from a dozen lines which brushed her shoulders. Whenever she shifted, the earrings chimed softly and the gold lace-work rustled.

The older servant, too, rang: she wore anklets and wristlets sewn with tiny bells and silver earrings that danced and sang when she moved. She carried the silver ewer over and poured them each a cup of the heady brew, stinging and sharp, from the camel's mouth. When Liath drank, it went right to her head.

'You are the one who bears the name of my teacher," said the other woman.

'In my own tongue I call myself Liathano."

The other woman tried this several times but could not produce the softer consonants, so in the end she laughed, amused at her efforts.

Liath laughed with her, warming to her lack of arrogance. "You are called Sorgatani."

'So I am. I, too, am named after one who came before me. Because she died the year I was born, her name and her soul passed into me." "Do the souls of your people not ascend to the River of Light?" "They remain on Earth. Souls endure many lives. We are born again and again into the world below. Do your people not know this truth also?"

Liath shook her head. "I have seen many things recently that have made the world above and the world below look very different to my eyes. Yet it's true my people do not believe as you do. The Lord and Lady bide in the Chamber of Light, which exists beyond the world above. It is there that our souls ascend after we die, to live in peace and harmony with God."

'That is very strange," said Sorgatani. She was silent, then broke into delighted laughter. "What do your souls do in this chamber of light? Do they dance? Do they eat? Do they find pleasure in the bed? Do they ride and hunt?"

A churchwoman might have been offended by such a questions, but to Liath they suggested a mind with an affinity to her own.

'There is some disagreement among the church mothers on this point, actually. Some say that only our souls can exist within the Chamber of Light, that we will dissolve into the eternal bliss that is the presence of God. Others say that our bodies will be fully resurrected, that we will exist bodily in the Chamber of Light but without any taint of the darkness that gives rise to the evil inclination. The Enemy will have no foothold in the Chamber of Light."

'If your bodies are resurrected, then what do you eat? Who feeds this vast tribe?"

'God are the food on which blessedness is fed."

'Isn't God consumed, then?"

'No. God has no material substance, not like we do."

'I admit I am puzzled. Who is this enemy?"

'Darkness and corruption."

'But darkness and corruption are everywhere. They are part of Earth. How can any place exist that does not contain all that is? Does this 'enemy' cause humankind to do evil things?"

'No, not at all. We live our lives according to free will. Darkness came into the world, but it is up to us to choose that which is good, or that which is evil. If God had made it otherwise, that we could not choose evil, then we would be slaves, 'an instrument in the hand of Them who set us in motion,' to quote the blessed Daisan."

'Then who is responsible for evil?"

'Darkness rose from the depths and corrupted the four pure elements."

'Surely this is impossible. The world has always existed as it was created in the days long ago by the Great God. Darkness was part of creation, not the foundation of evil."

'Then who do you think is responsible for evil?"

'There are many spirits abroad in the world above and the world below, and some of them are mischievous or even malign. They plague us with sickness and bad luck, so we must protect ourselves against them."

'What of the evil that people do to each other?"

'Are there not answers enough for this? Greed, lust, anger, envy, fear. Do these not turn to evil when they fester in the hearts of humankind?"

Liath laughed. "I cannot argue otherwise. This drink has made my tongue loose and a little clumsy. I have not eaten for many days."

'No guest of our tribe goes hungry!"

Sorgatani clapped her hands. The younger servant brought a wooden tray and set it down in front of Liath. Three enamel bowls contained yogurt, dumplings stewed in fat, and a hot barley porridge. The two servants moved away, bells settling and stilling as they sat beside the threshold with heads bowed. Sorgatani averted her gaze while Liath ate, forcing herself not to gulp down the meal. When she had finished, the servant removed the tray.

'I ask your pardon if my questions have caused offense," said Sor-gatani. "You are my guest. We do not know each other."

'Nay, do not apologize. As the blessed Daisan wrote, 'It is an excellent thing that a person knows how to formulate questions.' "

The older servant refilled Liath's cup, and she drank, savoring the aftertaste flavored like milk of almonds. The fermented drink flooded her limbs with warmth and made the heavens, glimpsed through the smoke hole, spin slowly, as a sphere rotates around its axis. She and Sorgatani were the axis, surely, and the whole world was spinning around them, or they were spinning; it was hard to tell.

'How is it that you speak Wendish so well?"

Sorgatani downed a second cup as well. "Humans are born with luck that leads them either into ill fortune or good fortune throughout their life. We who are shamans among my people have so much power within us that we have no room for luck to be born into our body, so our luck is born into the body of another. My luck was born in the body of a woman of the Wendish tribe. Because I see her in my dreams, I understand and speak her language."

'This is a thing I have never heard of before. Is it common for the luck of a Kerayit shaman to be born into a foreigner?"

'Our luck is born where fate decrees, and where our path lies. It is my fate that my path lies west, intertwined with that of your people. I think you know her, because she speaks of you in her dreams. She is called Hanna- 'Hanna!" Liath had not seen Hanna since Werlida, when she had fled Henry's wrath with Sanglant. "Do you know where she is? Better yet, I'll search. Is there a fire I can look into?"

Sorgatani lifted a hand, and the older servant brought the silver cup over on the tray, now cleared of bowls. She set it down before Liath and retreated.

Liath passed a hand over the shimmering surface of flame, as smooth as water licked by ripples of fire. With ease, she drove a path through the flame and sought Hanna.

Only the coruscating blue-white flicker of the burning stone met her seeking gaze, as if Hanna were caught within the gateway, wandering the ancients paths woven between the stone crowns.

'How can this be?" she whispered.

Shadows danced, and faded, making her dizzy, and she found herself back in Sorgatani's tent. The oil in the cup had all burned up to reveal, in the bottom, an astonishing wheel of horses' heads, spinning like a pinwheel, one galloping after the next, until she realized that she was staring at a pattern beaten into the silver. She took her hands off the cup. The jangling of tiny bells announced the arrival of the older servant, and the cup was removed.

'She does not walk on Earth," said Liath, surprised to find she could still speak. The effort had tired her, and the question of Han-na's fate weighed on her, an impossibly heavy burden. Hanna was her northern star, the one sure stable point in a tumultuous world. "I pray she is not dead."

'She walks the crowns," said Sorgatani carelessly, as if to walk the crowns was no greater a feat than a morning's stroll down to the river.

'Who but the Seven Sleepers knows the secret of the crowns?"

'A woman, I think, whom Hanna saved from a deep pit, which you call a dungeon. Now they walk the crowns to escape those who pursue them. She is safe."

'What woman?"

'I do not know how you call her. Your names are puzzling and difficult to pronounce."

Liath squelched her frustration. This was no time to irritate her allies. "Do you have any way of knowing for how long she is safe?"

'Only the Holy One can see both ways through time. She can see across great distances and pierce the veil of time through the heart of the burning stone. Can you not as well?"

'I can see through fire, but not into the heart of the crowns. I saw glimpses of past and future when I crossed through the burning stone, but that sight is closed to me here on Earth."

'Then what does it mean, to'see through fire'?"

'It is a gift known to those who have taken Eagle's vows in my country, to see folk and places through fire. The Eagles are messengers for the regnant. In this way they can be also the regnant's eyes and ears."