"Maybe, " Leesil replied. "But I'm too tired to be sure. "

"I did it, " Wynn whispered.

All eyes turned on the little sage in her snagged breeches and soiled short robe. Her braid had come loose, and her hair hung in tangled waves about her face as she stared at the ground.

"You?" Magiere asked. "How?

Wynn remained silent for a moment and didn't raise her eyes.

"After you ran off, I was alone, " she said. "I shot Vordana through the eye and fled to the smithy. He caught me in there. I think he wished to toy with me. When he was close enough, I pulled the brass vial from his neck and threw it into the forge coals. It melted and broke open. Smoke rose up everywhere. When it cleared, he was gone. "

As Wynn's words sank in, Magiere shook her head. "I'm sorry, Wynn. I'm sorry we left you with that thing. Are you sure he's gone?"

The sage still wouldn't lift her head. Magiere realized Wynn had been through too much for one night. She should never have come on this journey, but if she hadn't... what would have become of Leesil? Of this town?

When Wynn finally looked at Magiere, she cringed away immediately. Her eyes rolled, and she clutched her head. Before anyone could catch her, she toppled to the ground. Leesil dropped down beside her.

"What is wrong with her?" Geza asked.

"I don't know, " Leesil answered, and he pulled Wynn up to lean against him.

"I cannot stop... seeing, " Wynn moaned. "Please make it stop!"

"Oh, damn!" Magiere said. "I'd forgotten her eyes. "

"We should take her back to the manor, " Geza suggested, reaching down to lift the sage.

"And do what?" Leesil asked. "She can't take any more. We have to stop it, now!"

"How?" Magiere answered too harshly. "She's the only one who understands what happened. At the manor we can at least care for her until she can undo this herself. "

"She's not the only one who knows, " Leesil said, his voice quiet and cold. "There is someone else. Stay here where I can find you, or bring her if you hear me call out. "

The moment Wynn was settled in Magiere's arms, the sage began struggling, trying to squirm away. Leesil was on his feet, already heading toward the inland road.

"Geza, check the woods to the east, " he called. "If you see our dog, tell him Wynn is in trouble, and bring him here. "

The captain stared at him. "What?"

"Just do it!" Leesil shouted back. "He'll understand. "

Geza took off the other way, and Magiere sat in the road, gripping Wynn. The young sage cried out at her, as if Magiere were the source of her suffering.

"Wynn, enough, " she said. "Just stay with me. Leesil will find Chap, and we'll make this stop. "

Wynn twisted suddenly, wrenching herself to the side. She rolled away to scurry across the ground.

"Ribbons... shadows in you, " she whispered. "Pulling at me, at my spirit. Do not touch me!"

She backed against the nearest building and curled up to hide her face in her hands.

Magiere crouched within reach, unable to understand why Wynn feared her.

IWynn heard Leesil's voice calling Magiere's name from far away and then felt herself lifted from the ground before she could escape.

She didn't open her eyes-couldn't open her eyes-to watch the writhing black ribbons flowing through Magiere. She knew Magiere only tried to help, but could not stop herself from struggling. All she wanted was to crawl away into the darkness, where those black tendrils in Magiere's essence couldn't find her.

"Wynn, don't!" Magiere snapped. "I'm taking you to Chap. Be still so I can carry you!"

"Magiere!" Leesil called. "Here, across the stream!"

Wynn clenched in panic at the sound of Magiere's boots splashing through water. Then everything turned end over end as she tumbled to the ground out of Magiere's arms.

She felt the soft earth beneath her, and its loamy scent filled her head. She straggled to push herself up and opened her eyes slowly for fear of what she might see.

Through the blue-white mist woven amid the branches and brash, a gleam of white danced down the slope. Wynn dug her narrow fingers into the earth, frantic, ready to scramble away into hiding.

Leesil's hair flashed as he ran toward her. His eyes were amber stones lit from within. Beside him loped something on four legs. Shade. Though she possessed her own living inner glow, Shade's essence was far less than what Wynn saw in Leesil.

Where was Chap?

Leesil skidded in the mulch as he dropped down beside her. He glanced back over his shoulder.

"Chap, get down here... now!"

Out among the trees, Wynn saw another glimmer of movement.

At first, it was nothing more than a moving bright spot amid the forest's essence, but it grew in intensity as it neared. She had seen Chap during the village battle, and his presence was as strong as Leesil's, but it was not what she saw now. Like a brilliant cold lamp crystal, a light loped through the trees.

As it approached, the very essence of each living thing lit up where it passed.

Wynn forgot nausea and vertigo and everything else that plagued her mantic sight.

Unlike all else in her confused vision, she didn't see one blue-white shape laid over the physical form before her. Chap was but one image, one whole shape, glowing with brilliance.

His fur was pure white and each fiber glistened like silk.

He padded toward her.

Wynn remembered studying the properties of light at the guild back home. The other initiates spun cut crystals on strings by a window to watch the colors dance on the walls. Wynn had stared into the spinning crystal itself, as she now stared into Chap's eyes.

They sparkled like crystals in sunlight.

She felt no wind but saw movement among the trees. No, not the trees, but their blue-white essence within. It moved and flowed, reaching out... to the dog.

Other glows like Chap's were moving inside the trees... inside the earth... in the air itself. They gathered inward around the dog, above and below him.

Wynn leaned back and closed her eyes against the growing brilliance.

She felt Chap's breath upon her face and sensed his light through her eyelids, and then his warm tongue swept over her closed eyes, one at a time.

Wynn put her palms to the ground, steadying herself as the sensation of falling filled her up and then vanished. She lifted her head to gaze at the world around her.

Before her was Chap, silvery gray and furry... and barely visible in the dark.

"That's it?" Leesil asked. "He slobbers on her? Wynn, are you all right?"

She could barely make him out. His white-blond hair was the easiest feature to see, but it looked the same as always.

Wynn wanted throw her arms around Chap, but hesitated. What she had seen began to weigh upon her. The Fay had gathered upon Chap, heeded his call to heal her. Mixed with her shock was an undercurrent of fright that such a creature had been near her all through this journey.

But now she saw only a dog, who licked his own nose and then sat on the ground with an exhausted grunt.

IWelstiel stayed hidden among the trees as he watched Magiere and a moderately well-dressed soldier help Leesil and Wynn along the road to the manor. The majay-hi majay-hi was with them, and also an aging wolfhound. He could not hear much of Magiere's words, but she spoke to the soldier in a familiar manner, once clearly calling him Captain. Welstiel's impatience grew. was with them, and also an aging wolfhound. He could not hear much of Magiere's words, but she spoke to the soldier in a familiar manner, once clearly calling him Captain. Welstiel's impatience grew.

His dream patron urged him to follow her, but he had listened to those black scales in his slumber for too many years. He was no closer to his goal for it. Magiere's search for her past stalled his pursuit of the jewel of his dreams and the future it hinted at.

He understood why Magiere had stayed in this place. It was her nature to hunt the undead, wherever they were found. But why did she travel farther into this land, lingering in a place where some things still might wait to find her... to find him? As he watched Magiere and her companions enter the manor grounds, he decided there were answers he must seek for himself.

His horse was gone, and he began the long walk back to where Chane had pitched their tent the previous dusk. Welstiel was not surprised to find both horses and his traveling companion waiting there for him. Chane sat on the ground outside the tent, his expression guarded. He was feeding his rat a handful of grain.

"I thought it best to get the horses out of sight, " he said, as if nothing had happened.

Welstiel looked down at him. "Did you play the hero and destroy the monster to save your lady fair?"

Chane's left eye twitched. "Yes. "

Welstiel decided not to press the issue of Chane's disobedience-not yet. Magiere was safe, and with the sorcerer gone, she would continue onward.

"Of course, you made certain Wynn did not see you?"

His companion hesitated. "I am no fool. "

Welstiel stepped toward the tent. "It is dangerous to be so close to Magiere. The encounter has left them tired, particularly Leesil and the sage. I doubt they will leave at first light, but they will depart tomorrow. If she continues east, I need to know why. "

Chane frowned. "You don't know where she's going. "

"No... she should have turned north after leaving her village... or at least out of this land. "

He offered this like a tidbit to a hungry dog, hoping to turn Chane's mind back onto their goal without telling him too much.

"I saw her speak to a soldier from the manor, " Welstiel added. "Possibly the captain of the guard there. Did you ever assist your father in an interrogation?"

"Yes. "

"On occasion, I helped mine, as well. "

"Of course you did, " Chane said bitterly. "One more thing we have in common. "

Welstiel almost smiled.

IWynn had been given a room in the manor with a large bed and a down comforter. The rare privacy and the small luxuries of a window heavily draped against the cold and a table on which to set her scribe's instruments should have been a pleasure or at least a relief.

Beneath her short robe, breeches, and shirt, she wore a white cotton shift, which she normally managed to keep tucked in. Since leaving Bela, she had not abandoned her clothes to sleep in this loose cotton undergarment. Nights were too cold, and she was far too modest in company. The freedom to do so now, for this one night, should also have pleased her.

It did not.

She had written nothing in her journal concerning the undead sorcerer... or more of Magiere's nature, as Domin Tilswith would expect. She did not even warm up her crystal in the cold lamp on the bedside table. Instead, she closed her door tightly and crawled under the comforter, looking about the room's fixtures, so dim and normal in the low light of the single candle.

She had lied to Magiere, to Leesil, to the people here. She took credit for something she had not done... to save Chane... to keep Magiere from knowing he had followed them here.

There was a knock at the door, but Wynn did not wish to see anyone.

"It's me, " Magiere said from outside. "Can I come in?"

"Of course, " Wynn answered, but her voice was reluctant. She reached for the cold lamp, lifted its glass, and rubbed the crystal without removing it. Its light grew, brightening the room. As she replaced the glass, the door cracked open and Magiere entered.

She looked uncomfortable, hair down but uncombed, and wore only her loose white shirt and black breeches. A few cuts on her face were beginning to swell.

"Do you have any of the healing salve with you?" she asked.

More guilt for Wynn. She should have at least tended her companions' wounds before crawling into hiding.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I should have thought of that earlier. It's in the side of my pack. "

Magiere shook her head. "Don't apologize. We're all tired. "

Wynn rummaged out the small tin of salve, as well as a hairbrush. Guilt overwhelmed her discomfort at Magiere's presence.

"I can comb out your hair, if you like. It's full of burrs and twigs. "

It wasn't that Wynn distrusted Magiere. She trusted the woman woman with her life, but the other half-the with her life, but the other half-the undead undead half- which even Magiere did not truly know or understand, weighed upon Wynn's fears. For the first time, Wynn felt resentful of her calling. half- which even Magiere did not truly know or understand, weighed upon Wynn's fears. For the first time, Wynn felt resentful of her calling.

She loved the pursuit of "knowing. " Nothing made her happier than gathering knowledge, but how could she document any of this as if it were some passing scholarly interest? The dark and dead half of Magiere frightened her as much as the pale woman's mysterious and bloody origin.

Magiere glanced at the brush, seemed about to refuse, and then sighed. "Yes, thank you. "

Wynn poured water from a pitcher into a porcelain basin upon the table. There was a hand towel folded beside it, and Wynn dabbed its corner in the water. She settled on the bed's edge beside Magiere, forcing her hand not to waver as she cleaned Magiere's scratches and applied the salve. It was good for both healing and pain.

"Better, " Magiere said.

Wynn climbed around behind Magiere and began combing out the tangles of black hair.

"How is Leesil?" she asked.

"Resting. All right, I think. I don't think Vordana took much from him in the fight, but we can't be sure. I'll make certain he eats well in the morning. "

Wynn stopped brushing to gently pick at a burr with her fingertips.