"Went out? Where have they gone?"

"I don't know. She left this note. Is something the matter?"

Tallia scanned the note. Llian and I are going away for a few days, it said. Not far.

She ran outside. It was snowing gently, but not enough to conceal where they had gone. Out of the trampled snow at the back door emerged a pair of boot tracks that she recognized, Karan's size, and a larger pair. They led up the yard, over the stone wall and directly toward the cliff path that went to Carcharon and Shazmak. She followed the tracks far enough to be absolutely sure, then ran all the way down to Tolryme, through knee-deep snow, to find Mendark.

AN INSANE.

DECISION.

All day Karan kept vigil, holding Llian's hand, stroking his forehead or feeding him gruel with a spoon, just being with him and trying to reach him. He seemed better now. Only once did the fit come on him again, though it was a weaker, briefer episode than previously, and a small dose of poppy syrup sent him into a relaxing sleep. No point trying to link to him in that state, but after the potion wore off she attempted to.

She tried many times that day, but failed each time. She kept trying, well into the night, ignoring Tallia's warning. They lay together, Llian in her arms, as night descended. The room became dark as pitch-not a glimmer anywhere. Karan did not move to light a lamp. The dark seemed better for what she was trying to do.

Then suddenly she felt that he was looking at her, imagined that he held both hands out to her in yearning. She put out her hands as well, across the link, and touched him.

Oh, Llian, she sighed across the link.

He spoke as from far away. Why did you abandon me?

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Are you...?

I feel very weak. Hold me! I am so...

Karan felt as if she stood on the edge of a vast gulf in darkness, one of the enormous canyons that cut down to the Dry Sea. She could sense Llian as a lonely speck on the other side, a sad drab figure searching just as disconsolately as she was. Years could have gone by, so timeless and directionless was her search, but neither could find the way to the other.

A tiny light grew in the darkness, and across that chasm she saw him, an ant-like figure illuminated by a candle-nub of light, a frail beacon in the infinite darkness. He knew it too, for she saw him turn his head her way, and as he did the light that touched him became a blade, then a wand extending out over the gulf. It touched a thread suspended there and like the morning sun on a single strand of spider web the light glided along the thread, illuminating a path across the abyss.

Llian took a step toward it. Looking down, Karan saw the same path before her. She held her breath, then took courage in her hands and stepped upon it. It swayed beneath her and she threw out her arms for balance, and saw Llian do the same, a little stick-figure at the end of immeasurable distance.

She wanted to run and take him in her arms. Llian was clumsy at the best of times; terrified of heights all the time. He could never walk this path. But Karan could only see one step in front of her. Beyond that was half a league of blackness. So she continued, one step at a time, and Llian did the same, and always out in the middle was dark.

Slowly she paced toward the absolute nihility over the chasm. A dozen times Llian swayed and teetered on the edge, and Karan put her fingers in her mouth to stop herself from screaming out Over the link she sent him warmth and encouragement and love, and each time he recovered and kept on.

An eternally long time later, when the darkness at the center had shrunk to a globe no bigger than a barn, Karan felt a rasp of terror touch the nerves at the base of her spine. It was just a little thing, not like a scream of danger from her talent, but she paused in her step. The thread path quivered under her.

A shiver passed up Karan's spine. Something was not right. There was such a clamor in her head, many voices, but she could not distinguish the words. Suddenly she heard Llian shouting at her.

"Karan!"

He screeched out something else, but she could not make out whether it was a cry for help or a warning, for at that moment a single low note boomed down the canyon and blotted everything out. The bridge jerked then swayed in slow oscillations that tried to tip her off.

Llian fell to hands and knees as the vibrations grew wilder. Then in a feat of daring that she would never forget, he rose to his feet on that single thread, put his hands around his mouth and bellowed at her.

No sound came. Nothing at all passed through the black globe at the core of the bridge. Llian reeled about and she ran forward in a desperate, futile attempt to get to him before he fell.

She ran until there was a stitch in her side. As she was about to plunge into that roiling cloud of nothingness, there came faint to her from one side, the echo of Llian's shout. "Go back, back, ackakkkkkkkk!"

She skidded to a stop, the tiny echoes now tapping at her inner ear from a dozen directions, getting to her where his shout had been prevented.

"Link, link, ink inkkkkk!"

What was he trying to tell her? She could not make it out. Did he want her to try harder with the link? A seed of mistrust began to germinate. She could not rid herself of it.

The black cloud swelled and shrank, pulsing away like a beating heart. She stepped forward gingerly. Another step.

Another echo came to her, the faintest of all, but not even its reflection from a dozen precipices could disguise the utter urgency in Llian's voice. "Karannnn! Breakkk linkkkk noowwwww!"

The echo trailed away to nothing, but not before she saw Llian crushed down as by the blow of a mighty fist. Treachery! She turned and ran. The narrow, slippery path ran steeply up before her, into dark. Often she had to guess where to put her foot, so gloomy had it become. Only a step or two behind her the shadow came, clawing and clutching at her heels. How far down the curve of the hanging bridge she was!

Karan sprinted as fast as she had ever gone. Near the top her feet slipped on the slope. Snatching her heel out of an unseen mouth, she went hand over foot up the path, saw the top, sprang, bounced on the rubbery surface-the link-and rolled back up over the edge of the gorge to safety.

Gasping on the brink, she snapped the link before it was seized. Rulke! It was a trap! and found herself back on her bed in the pitch dark, drenched in sweat, her heart hammering so loud that she could hear it.

A comparable shudder wracked Llian. She heard his eyes spring open, though he was not seeing her.

"I will not," he kept whispering, slurring the words. In her arms she could feel his struggle. "I will die before I let you have her." His eyes closed and he slept again.

The veil was torn from her eyes. This was not the action of a traitor, unless Llian was more devious than she could imagine. But she knew Llian better than anyone; his little deceits were quite transparent to her. Maybe they had all been wrong about him.

Karan shook Llian and called his name but he would not wake, and the Rulke-presence did not reappear. Llian seemed more rested now, more like himself. She lit the lamp, bolted the door, cut his hands and feet free and, taking off her boots and socks, slipped into bed and took him in her arms again.

He was freezing! He gave a little whimper, but she pulled his head against her chest, stroking his hair. Her fingers passed over the small bare patch on his scalp and he flinched. She blew out the lamp and pulled him tightly against her, sending him care and protection and love with her body, more secure than any link could be, then he gave a sigh and slept more soundly, more easily.

Someone came to the door, tried it and went away again. She dozed, slept, dreamed, and in the night her dreams changed to peaceful ones. Suddenly she woke, realizing that Llian was awake beside her. It was pitch dark still.

"Llian," she said softly.

He did not answer, but touched her as if trying to speak to her with his fingers. He stroked her nose, her high-arched eyebrows, her cheekbones. Catching his fingers in hers she drew them down to her lips. "Tell me what happened. Tell me everything."

She slipped his hand lower, inside her shirt. His cold fingers lay on her breast, unmoving.

He made a sigh, a little bit of a whimper in it, then pulled his hand away. "You refused to trust me. You preferred Shand's opinion of me to your own. That hurt so much. After he appeared in Tullin you never listened to me again."

"I'm sorry." The words could never express her mortification. "I should have refused him, not that he gave me much choice. But if you could have seen yourself that night-it was terrifying, Llian."

"I know, I remember it now. That night it all seemed so wonderful; so right! But as soon as Rulke called for you, I knew him."

"Called for me?"

"I think it began in the Nightland, after you ... left me."

Yes, Karan thought. That's where it all started. That was my mistake and this is what it led to.

"I didn't remember anything about that until a few days ago. There was a memory of great pain, and his voice saying: One day I will call, and you must come and tell me what you know. If Karan has survived you will bring her too, for I need her more than you. Then more pain. The dreams were just idle threats at first, like the dreams you had last year. I suppose that's the only way he can reach me. That night in Tullin ... it was a great promise. But underneath it, a long way from the surface, a threat. Then he started calling for you."

"When was this?"

"A long time ago. I can't remember."

"Why didn't you say? Why did you not come to me?"

"I overheard you and Shand in Tullin. You agreed to treat me like a thing possessed by Rulke. I tried that night and you rejected me."

"You cannot know how that tore me apart," she whispered.

"I know how it tore me apart. I heard Shand calling me traitor and you agreeing, even though you well knew how prejudiced he is. Shand has turned everyone against me. Mendark will end up killing me, if Yggur doesn't. He only let me go to find Rulke and trap me. Did I tell you that? He's just as bad as Yggur."

Karan could hear his feelings of betrayal. Rage exploded from her. "Mendark's gone. I threw him out."

"I desperately wanted what Rulke offered, but not so much that I would give you to him. No one tried to help. I was simply accused and condemned."

"I should never have listened to Shand," said Karan, torn between loyalties. "He is a good man, but blinded by prejudice."

"You and Shand were so self-righteous; and everyone else was contemptuous, save for Nadiril. How could you think that I would make a pact with Rulke for you, I who am Zain? That lesson was taught me at my mother's breast. I can't deny that I was tempted by his offers, and still am. But I would never give you to him.

"Then Yggur left me in the execution yard with the corpses. No food, no water, just twenty-five bodies swinging in the breeze. Can you imagine the horror of that day? That was when I first realized who my enemies really were."

Karan was wracked, knowing all that he said about her and Mendark and Shand was true. But another part of her could not help but think: "Yes, and yours is a very pretty speech, and that is your art and your trade, even without Rulke putting the words up for you to say." How could she tell?

"What does Rulke want from you? What do you know now that you did not in the Nightland?"

"No more than he might have guessed three months ago. Anyway he doesn't want me."

"What does he want?

"The one thing that I will never give up. You! You have some talent that you don't even know about, and it's crucial to his purpose."

Karan was struck dumb, though her mind was racing in many directions. Rulke had wanted her for a long time. Even back when she carried the Mirror she had wondered why. First she'd thought that he was just after the Mirror. In the Nightland she'd learned otherwise; perhaps that was why she had panicked and fled. Now she understood-he must need her for her rare talents. But why? She could not imagine.

This put Llian's actions in a wholly different light, if he had endured all this for her. Either he was as cunning as Rulke himself, or she had him a terrible wrong. All she had was her own judgment. All this might be just another manipulation of the Prince of Deceivers, but no longer could she disbelieve Llian. She would not hide from her mistakes; she would face them. She knew Llian was not capable of something so monstrous.

How cruelly she had treated him. Well, that was over. In support of her, Llian had done many things that were hard and unnatural for him. But never had he judged her or doubted her. He had suffered all this, protecting her, in spite of what she had done to him. She had misjudged Llian terribly. Being Karan she must immediately put it right.

"What if I won't go, and you can't bring me?"

"He'll send the Ghashad down for you. He told me so the other night."

It was black in her room but Karan could see in her mind's eye the expression on Llian's face. I don't have to imagine it. I've seen more than I ever wanted to. I will never mistrust you again, not if everyone else on Santhenar does. Not unless I see the evidence with my own eyes.

"Where were you supposed to take me?"

"To Carcharon. That's where he is, or will be."

That explained a lot, though not why Rulke had gone there instead of Shazmak. Maybe mad Basunez had been right after all, thinking it the best place on Santhenar to work the Secret Art. Yet there was no point puzzling about something that could not be answered. The only way to find out would be to go there. There had been much talk at the Council about spying on Carcharon. Karan had even agreed to send up some of her woodsfolk, though they dared not go close enough to learn any more than was already known.

Carcharon was hers, and she was outraged that Rulke had taken it, but there was nothing to be done. The place was impregnable, save to a siege of months. If Rulke came for her the whole valley was in peril, whilever she and Llian were here. And just as much peril if they were to flee secretly. What was she to do? There was only one thing she could do.

She jumped out of bed and lit the lamp. "What are you doing?" asked Llian, sitting up. The light hurt his eyes.

"Stay here," she said. "I have to find something."

She ran out in her bare feet. The house was completely dark. Down the far end of the library were big wooden cupboards with wide drawers where maps, charts and old drawings had been kept for generations. There were plans of the holding too, on parchment or canvas or hide, some so old as to predate the construction of the keep. She riffled through maps showing the layout of her land and its boundaries, plans of paddocks and forests, charts showing the heights of great floods, sketches of buildings and gardens long gone. These she put aside, wishing she'd known they were here. She would look at them another time. But she found no plan of Carcharon.

There was a long chest beside the cupboard. Karan heaved herself up on it with her arms and sat there, rubbing her feet to warm them. The stone floor was frigid. Where could the plans be? Everything of value in Carcharon had been brought home with Basunez's body after his death. Where were his papers? She had never seen them in the library either.

No, wait! When she returned to Gothryme for the first time as an adult, she had found her father's journals. She had often read them, trying to bring him back. Her father had always been interested in Carcharon. She remembered him talking about a secret way into Carcharon.

She ran along the long aisle, lantern in one hand, and crashed into Llian who was feeling his way along in the gloom. He fell, caught a shelf with one hand and held on grimly. The leg that he'd had the cramp in was weak.

"Idiot!" he said with a painful smile. "What are you doing?"

She gave him her hand. "I'm looking for a map of Carcharon, in my father's papers. Here they are."

There were a number of slim journals, as well as a thick heap of papers held together with tape. She undid the tape and the papers spilled all over the floor. It took a long time to search through them all, but no map was found. She sat down on the floor and carefully put them all together again.

"I was sure that it would be here," she said.

"When did you go to Carcharon with your father?"

"I was eight. Seventeen years ago. Not long before he died."

She named the month. Karan tied the bundle up carefully and put it back. Llian took the journals down, one after another, looked inside and replaced them. He riffled through the pages of the third and took out a small folded piece of paper. He handed it to Karan without opening it.

"I imagine that this is it," he said.

She unfolded it. It was a small plan, labeled Carcharon. On one corner was a sketch of the fortress and its defenses; a round the outside, writing in a neat hand. "He must have made this himself. The paper is the same as that in the journal. How did you know it was here?"

"It was a logical place to look."

The map had told her what she wanted to know. She slipped it into her pocket. Llian looked faint. She took his hand again and they went back to her bedroom.

"Get into bed," she said. "I'll be along in a minute." She disappeared, returning shortly with a huge mug of hot soup and a slab of bread. "Eat this, then go to sleep. I won't be long." She ran out again.

"Hurry up, it's freezing," he said sleepily, as the empty mug slipped from his fingers.