"I've got to come," said Karan.

"Better that you don't. I've many reasons to be in the citadel, but if you're with me Yggur will be suspicious, and may think we know something. Wait here. Be ready to leave Thurkad on the instant. Lilis, come with me; you can be my errand girl. You can come too, Jevi."

They went out. Karan cleaned the mil off her trousers, packed her bag and put it beside Llian's, and sat back down again, waiting and dreading the news.

It was not far from Nadiril's house to the citadel. They went to the front entrance. "Don't say anything while we are in the citadel," he said. "And especially don't mention the ear."

"I won't," said Lilis, clutching Jevi's hand and drawing close, away from the enormous guards. "Can you get poor Llian free?"

"I don't know, child," Nadiril said heavily. "I've got to find him first."

He went up to Mendark's offices, unhindered at any stage. He told Mendark what he had learned, but not how.

"What?" Mendark shouted. He sprang out of his chair, which toppled over backwards. "Llian taken? Osseion and Torgsted slain?"

"Perhaps not slain, but certainly overcome."

"Yggur goes too far!" he raged, stalking back and forth in agitation.

"He lives every day in deadly fear of Rulke," said Nadiril.

"What can I do? I need Llian. Yggur has an army-I've but a handful of guards."

"Make a diversion, one that will occupy all his time, while I find Llian."

"What?" Mendark muttered, pacing up and down. "Ah, I have it! Off you go; leave it to me."

As soon as Nadiril was gone Mendark took out the black opal spheroid and the seven-piece puzzle ring that he had used to magic his way into Havissard. He touched the opal to life, and his fingers writhed with the puzzle ring while he sat deep in thought.

Outside the citadel Nadiril looked up at the window where he knew Mendark's apartments to be. Though the blinds were drawn he saw the room suddenly lit up with rainbow lights. Then it became dark again. He smiled and went to do his own work.

Within minutes flames leapt up from the roof of Yggur's headquarters, from the barracks of the First Army, and even from a corner of the citadel itself. This was followed by mysterious fires in half a dozen strategic places. Rumors swept through Thurkad that the Ghashad were invading. People rioted in the streets and not all of Yggur's soldiers could contain them.

Before dawn of the following day the bolts on the door of the execution yard rattled. This time it was Vartila, alone. At least, the figure had the semblance of Vartila, though it seemed taller and moved more slowly. Llian had no fear left; he stared at her numbly as she unsnapped the manacles and picked him up after he fell down.

"Are you come to hang me?" he croaked.

Vartila gave Llian her shoulder. "No!" she said, and in the lamplight her face was harder than ever.

"Then who..."

She smiled, or attempted to, though the sight was almost as fearsome as her frown. "You are freed. I am taking you to Karan at the gates of the city."

"Reprieved?" cried Llian. "Is this some ghastly joke?"

"No joke! It took me a long time to find you," she said somberly. "I am sorry. Put on these robes and pull the hood down. No one must see you."

Nothing more was said between them. They picked their way through city streets full of panicked people and soldiers vainly trying to restore order. But every soldier knew Vartila's face and no one checked her. Llian did not even wonder what had happened. By the time they reached the west gate his fear had turned to an all-consuming rage, greater than he had ever felt before.

Karan lay miserably by the fire, where she had eventually dozed off in the early hours. Soon after that she was woken again. Someone was shaking her by the shoulder.

"Karan, wake up," said Lilis. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. Is Llian free?"

"I don't know. I'm to take you to the west gate. There's rioting; half of Thurkad is on fire, and people say it's the Ghashad come back. We must be very careful."

Karan, Lilis and Jevi went out into the unpleasant night. Hateful place! Karan thought, longing for Gothryme. Lilis led them to the gate unscathed, where they waited for an hour in sleet and wind. At dawn a tall figure loomed out of the darkness. It was cloaked and hooded, as was the smaller figure behind, but the rust in the voice gave Nadiril away.

"Take him and go quickly," he said in an almost perfect imitation of Vartila's harsh voice. He pushed the smaller figure forward. It was Llian.

"How did you get free?" Karan asked gently.

Llian was in such a state that he could not speak at all.

"What will Yggur do now?" asked Karan of the Vartilafigure, who dissolved into Nadiril.

"After Mendark's diversions last night Yggur has his own troubles. There are horses waiting outside. Go quickly."

Karan was already worrying about that. The escape would have to be paid for. But that did not matter now. Llian was free! She thanked Nadiril and the big-eyed Lilis, and they hurried away.

Llian had been so traumatized by Thurkad that he had retreated right into himself. On the rare occasions that he came out, the face that he turned to the world was a cold rage against everyone and everything. Karan tried many times to get the true story out of him, but he was incapable of responding.

"No one trusts me, so why should I give a damn about anyone else?"

"If it wasn't for me and Nadiril, you'd be dead!" she snapped.

"I'd be better off dead."

Karan did not know what to do. Constrained from pleading her case any further, she took refuge in silence. No matter how she tried, she could not dismiss one niggle from her mind. Perhaps Rulke was his master, or Faelamor, ridiculous though that was. Or maybe both.

Llian could sense this ambivalence in her, and while it was there he could not take the least step toward her. The divide between them yawned as wide as ever.

After days of miserable slush-riding, constantly looking over their shoulders, they arrived back in Gothryme. Nothing had been resolved. Nothing was any further advanced than it had been the previous summer. Nothing changed, but the rumors from Carcharon were stronger than ever. The Ghashad had been seen many times, bearing huge loads down from Shazmak. They were preparing something there, but what?

POSSESSION.

At Gothryme Karan found that the Aachim had made great progress. Three whole rooms were finished and several more were well on the way.

"I would like a quiet place to work, if it can be managed," Llian said, when they arrived. He gave her that blank look that broke her heart, as if she meant no more to him than a plaster statue.

She nodded as if he was of no consequence to her either, and though they were still short of space she set him up in two tiny rooms against the old keep. They were in the wing that had been greatly damaged, the only other occupied room being Karan's sitting room. The place was quiet apart from hammering from the far end, for most of the daily life of the manor took place in the other wing or the keep itself.

Llian's rooms were paneled in wood that time and the smoke of a thousand years had stained the color of coffee. The outer one, his bedroom, had a tiny window, but the study was thick-walled, cold and windowless. It suited his dark mood and he sat there, brooding or writing near a tiny fire.

Karan came in to check on him once or twice a day, or bring him food, for he would not eat in the refectory with anyone else. Whenever she did, she found him sitting in front of the fireplace, though often the fire had gone out. He took no part in the life of Gothryme, and after a few days the manor went about its business as if he was not there. His moody presence cast a small shadow, but the next few weeks were a peaceful time for everyone except Karan.

Every time she closed her eyes she saw Llian, crouched in his freezing room, looking thinner and more tormented. He worked like a man possessed, and perhaps he was. Day and night he wrote, and paced, and wrote still more. He had become an insoluble problem: one so painful that it was no longer bearable. The monitor she'd put over him in Thurkad was wearing her out, physically and emotionally. Eventually she did the only thing she could-she blocked him out and closed down the link completely.

Llian lay in his icy bed, sleeping fitfully only to rouse to cold and misery. Sometime after the middle of the night he woke, or thought he did, to a familiar voice in his head, just a faint little whisper.

Ho, chronicler! It's good to speak to you again. Get ready. Soon I will call you to- Llian sat up abruptly, panting, but the voice was gone, cut off in mid-sentence. His trembling hands eventually lit the candle beside the bed, but the room was as empty as ever.

He could not sleep now. Llian got out his notes and went on with the tale, though it was many hours before he could concentrate on his work. Memories of Rulke kept coming back.

Llian hid himself away, afraid that Karan would read the nightmares in his eyes and judge him again, but Karan was preoccupied with her own affairs. He did not see her at all that day.

Two nights later Rulke was back.

Chronicler-he was cut off, then reappeared so strongly that Llian could almost see his face in the darkness.

Chronicler, prepare yourself. Get back the link with Karan and bring her to me.

"I won't come," Llian said aloud. "And neither will she."

Yes, you will- Again the voice vanished. Llian's teeth began to chatter. He could not bear the dark, nor the thought that Rulke would come back. He wanted Karan more than ever but was sure any approach would arouse her mistrust. He huddled beside the dead coals in the fireplace, not daring to approach her now. In a sudden, heart-stopping realization, Llian understood how desperately Rulke needed Karan. Ever since she'd escaped the Nightland, Rulke had been using Llian to get her back.

A fortnight had gone by since their return from Thurkad. Karan knocked on Llian's door but he did not answer. It was dawn. She eased the door open and found him already at his desk. Last night's dinner sat untouched on the table. He was so thin that even his broad hands looked bony, and he had a driven look that she never wanted to see again.

She stood there, watching and remembering, then Llian glanced up at her with a look of absolute desperation. Her innards began to dissolve. The moment was poised. She was about to throw out her arms to him when he swept his papers together with one arm, stood up and shut the door in her face. What had been in her heart seeped down and congealed into a cold hard lump in her belly. She went back to her sitting room. There was nothing she could do.

A few days later Karan was up on the roof, helping to replace some slates that had blown off in the previous night's storm, when she saw two people riding up the path through the snow. She felt a black cloud of foreboding settle over her. She had known all along that Llian's getaway was too good to be true; that Yggur neither forgave nor forgot and sooner or later it must be paid for. Karan wiped dusty fingers on her overalls and clambered across to the ladder, but discovered that the riders were Mendark and Tallia. Physically Mcndark looked better than he had in Thurkad, though there was still a predatory glint in his eye.

"We came to find out what's going on in Carcharon," Mendark said.

"Actually, he did," said Tallia. "I came as I promised I would, so that you could show me your country."

"Llian is here," Karan said nervously. She was no longer sure what Mendark's attitude to Llian was.

"I know!" Mendark smiled a shark-toothed smile. "Forget it! That was all a misunderstanding of Yggur's making."

A misunderstanding! Karan was not convinced by his heartiness, and it made her smolder that he could dismiss Llian's abuse so casually. But Mendark was Magister, and she an almost-bankrupt nobody, so she smiled, led them in to the fire and plied them with food and hot drinks. Mendark showed no further interest in Llian and left at dawn to see Carcharon for himself.

"What's going on?" she asked Tallia as soon as he was gone. "I've been expecting Yggur every day."

"He's got more urgent things to worry about at the moment-wars and rebellions in the south. He's withdrawn most of his troops from Bannador in the last week. Llian's not such a problem this far away."

Karan was delighted to see Tallia, for as her relationship with Llian waned, her friendship with Tallia had grown, built on the foundations that they had set down in Faranda. Tallia was ever kind, ever cheerful, ever dependable. The two had spent much time together in Thurkad.

It remained overcast though the weather was mild. They spent most of the short days outside, riding to Karan's favorite places: a crystal waterfall midway along the cliff, now frozen into a series of icy steps for a giant; a perpetually warm spring issuing from a cavern at the other end; a glade set among the leafless willows on the Ryme. Or they worked on Karan's garden plans, pacing out beds and hammering stakes into the hard soil in readiness for the spring.

Then the weather turned bleak, windy and snowy under an impenetrable overcast that seemed to have been there forever. They had seen neither the sun nor the stars in over a month.

There were eyes in the night. Piercing eyes like the hot glow of the fire. And as the dark hours passed they looked up more frequently, from that inky space where their owner worked invisibly.

Again Llian leapt up in bed, gasping for air. He thought he'd heard someone say Ahhhh!, an exhalation of relief right in his ear. Feeling around for his flint-striker, his shaking hand knocked it off the table. After he found it he clicked the striker again and again, but it would not give a single spark. The flint was lost.

Then, groping around with head down and bare backside in the air, he felt rather than heard an amused chuckle that stirred the hairs on his forearm as gently as a baby's breath.

Stop fussing with the candle, boy. I am all the light you'll ever need.

As he spoke, the yellow wax of the candle began to glow from the inside out, and it grew in brightness until Llian had to shield his eyes.

It's time, my friend. Wake Karan, have her link with you. Quickly; this way is terribly wearying.

"I can't," Llian whispered.

Can't, or won't?

Llian realized that Rulke knew nothing of what had happened between him and Karan.

"Your visit in Tullin nearly destroyed me."

It hurt me too, chronicler. I could not move for a week after Karan smashed the link so crudely.

"No one trusts me anymore, not even Karan, and Yggur will kill me as soon as he gets the chance. He's already tried."

Silence in his head as if Rulke was thinking. Then the voice was back, ringing with urgency. Bring her to Carcharon. Hurry!

"I won't go!" Llian said. Whatever it cost he would protect Karan from Rulke. "I refuse! I reject you utterly!"

Will you never learn who your real friends are? Then regretfully I must force you.

Llian actually sensed regret, then a terrible pain coursed through his head, like an earache shooting from one side to the other. It was cut off with a cry of pain as great as Llian's own. He blacked out on the floor.

Llian got up in his midnight despair and packed his bags to flee, anywhere. But he was trapped just as he had been in Chanthed a year ago. He had no money nor any way to obtain more. His telling skills would buy nothing in Bannador in this cruel winter-no one had coin for such luxuries. Karan's funds were committed ten times over to Gothryme. Who could he turn to? Nadiril had offered help, but Nadiril was far away in Thurkad, if he had not already gone back to the Great Library.

In the early hours his ear began to ache, a pain that became a throbbing pulse of agony, died away to nothing then began again, and each time it stopped he faced the dreadful anticipation of its coming back. In the madness of the night he once thought about calling Rulke, giving in to him, only he did not know how. Then all at once the pain blew away.

Llian, now wide awake, began to feel the pressure in his mind again. Rulke was calling-another of his waking nightmares.

Good night, chronicler, boomed the voice in his head, the deep, rich and ever so slightly amused tones that were unmistakably Rulke.

Are you ready? Have you done what I asked? Fetch Karan! Make her link with you. I will do the rest.

Llian struggled with his tongue until foam dripped from his sagging lower lip, but the conflict was too great. He could do no more than grunt.

You refuse me! boomed Rulke. Karan does not cooperate? Has the famous voice lost its potency? You are less than I thought. Let this encourage you to try harder.