"The chant was in harmony, Master Wilder. All voices were in accord. The chorus has decided."

Travis looked up into Oragien's blue eyes. There was a new light shining in them now: sorrow. Travis opened his mouth, but a gesture from the All-master silenced him more certainly than could any rune. "At sunset tomorrow, when the moon is at her full, Master Wilder will be bound to the null stone outside our tower, where no rune may be spoken."

Oragien hesitated, but Travis already knew the words that would come next."And there he shall die."

They rode steadily all that day--Grace and Tira, Aryn and Lirith, Durge and Beltan--pushing the horses as h /lf*-1 /*f *-ll Qir nr1-m n rr i*royi4- ^rf/nrr Through the window slit of his cell, Travis watched the first flecks of copper gild the azure sky. It was almost time.

He looked down at his hands and saw they were trembling. Maybe it was fear. Or maybe it was just hunger. They had not given him food that day--just a pot of metallic-tasting water brought by a grim-faced journeyman shortly after dawn. After that no one had come, and he had sat on the bed, watching the narrow line of sunlight creep across the wall.

He had tried the door, of course. Not because he thought it might be unlocked, but just because it seemed required. However, the door wouldn't budge, although he sensed no rune of closing upon it; they must have chosen more solid and mundane barriers to keep him in this,time. For a while he stared at the door, willing it to open, and for Sky to be on the other side, grinning, there to set Travis free.

After a while he gave that up.

You're alone, Travis. They're keeping Sky away from you. And Beltan's not going to come save you this time, not like at the Rune Gate. This is it.

He sighed as he thought of the good-natured knight. Travis wished he would have a chance to see Beltan again. It would have been nice to see his friend, to see how he was doing. But that wasn't going to happen,was it?

Although he tried not to, Travis couldn't help wondering how long it would take to die. Once, in the Dominion of Eredane, he had seen a runespeaker lashed to a pole by the Raven Cult. They had let him hang there like a scarecrow. A heretic, the sign on the 382 ' mark anthony 391.

Heretic. That was what Oragien had called him as well. But then, wasn't that what they were always called--people who spoke a truth no one wanted to hear? Weren't those who were different always crucified like this ... on crosses, on fences, on stones?

Outside the window, the flecks of copper ignited into flame and spread across the sky. The first echoes of boots against stone sounded outside the door.

"No good deed goes unpunished," Travis murmured.

But maybe this wasn't really such a bad way for things to end. Maybe the Runespeakers would never understand, but he had helped them. They would learn now--because they had to. He supposed a lot of people died having done less. He folded his hands in his lap and waited for them to come.

By the fire of Durnach's forge! Are you just going to let them do this to you, Travisf He winced as the voice spoke in his mind. "Tack."

Travis wasn't certain whether he was glad or not to hear the voice finally speak to him. Yes, it had helped him in moments of danger. But sometimes it seemed more like an affliction than a blessing--a reminder of what had been done to him, of how he had been changed. This is absurd, Travis. These fools are the barest shadows of the Runespeakers of old. And you're a runelord. They should be obeying your commands, not questioning your actions.

"I broke their runestone, Jack." He spoke aloud because somehow this seemed a little less insane.

And what a show that was, Travis. By Olrig, you're bolder than I ever guessed. I'm not certain many of us could have done that. But then, you're the only one left now. You're everything we ever were.

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his head besides Jack's--a vast chorus speaking in harmony. Then it was just his old friend once more.

There is no need for this, Travis. Once they open the door, you can dropthem all with a single rune and be away from this place. You have the power.

Travis clenched his right hand into a fist. "No, Jack. I won't hurt them. I won't hurt anyone. That was my vow, and I'm going to keep it. I didn't ask for this power."

What utter nonsense! No one asks for power--except for idiots and madmen. But you have it, Travis, and it's your duty to use it.

Travis shook his head. "Not if it means hurting people. If I could get away from the null stone after they leave me there, I'd do it. But you can't speak a rune there--I know, I tried. So there's nothing that can help me."

There was a silence so long Travis thought that even the voice had fled him now in this final hour. Then it came again, a whisper deep in his mind.

You're wrong, Travis. The null stone is ancient, but there are powers more ancient still. The hand of Olrig will aid you.

This was a cruel joke. Travis pounded his fist against his thigh. "But Olrig isn't here anymore. Don't you remember? The Old Gods are gone."

Are theyi Travis opened his mouth, then closed it. There was no use in replying.

As if a door had shut in his mind, the voice was gone. At the same moment another door--the one to his cell--swung open. Three journeymen entered. Travis stood.

393.

"You don't need that," he said, as one of them lifted a strip of leather. However, the man ignored him and tied the strip over his mouth, gagging him. Apparently they weren't going to risk his breaking their rune of silence again. The others took his arms anrl ol,^,,/,/^ 1-^w* 4-l^*.^iirr^> *- a Ar^r^lf 384 * mark anthony A half-dozen times he nearly saved them the work of taking him to the null stone by stumbling and just about breaking his neck on the steps as they pushed him down the staircase. However, with rough jerks they kept him upright, and he made it to the bottom. They forced him through the gate.

The light of the dying day spilled like blood across the plateau in front of the tower. The runespeakers were all there, gathered in a semicircle facing west. He could not see past them to the null stone, but he knew it was there, for it weighed like a blot on his mind. Hard hands propelled him toward it.

Sweat trickled in rivulets inside Travis's robe, and he was unable to walk without knocking his knees together. It was difficult not to entertain thoughts of escape. If somehow he could get the gag off, just for a moment, he could freeze his captors with Gelth, or burn them with Krond. Then he could run far from here. Where he would go, he didn't know. Maybe back to Calavere, to see Grace and Beltan, and . . .The runespeakers parted, making way for him to pass, and all of Travis's thoughts ceased. His eyes locked on the black outline of the null stone--then moved down to the heap of sticks piled at the base.

Fear transmuted into panic. He strained against the grips that held him, but more hands reached out, pulling him toward the stone. Travis tried to scream but only choked against the gag instead. He had been wrong.