Ashar nodded, looking frightened.

"That's all you need. Your camel will give you eighteen days so long as you can survive these first few hours. The Samazen will only last four days. We can do this."

"We don't have much choice," Ashar admitted.

"Lyana guide you," Lazar said to Ganya, and she knew he was saying good-bye.

She had no time to say anything. Her beast was moving, her arms around the waist of her little brother, and the Samazen was howling. They were heading into night and the fiercest sandstorm she had encountered in her nearly four decades.

As he suspected they would, Lazar lost Ganya and Ashar within moments of their two beasts reluctantly stepping outside their shelter. The other beast blundered, spooked by the Samazen, and Lazar cast a prayer that Ashar would wrest back control. The camel he and Ana rode refused to leave the walls that cocooned her, but begging Ana to hold her seat somehow, Lazar jumped down and with strength he didn't know he possessed, dragged, pushed, and pulled the animal into the angry maelstrom.

What he had only prayed might happen nevertheless took his breath away when it did.

The sands miraculously went still around them and then, as if on some signal, danced back. As the camel and its cargo fully emerged, they found themselves moving in a strange void. It was late afternoon; Lazar could see the fiery ball of the sun dipping to the west. He could clearly see the rough hair of their beast. The noise had dulled to a soft roar around them. They moved in gentle warmth, rather than fierce heat, and what seemed to be an impossible safety. Around them he knew the Samazen raged. Ahead he saw the first camel; Ashar and Ganya had their heads bent against the storm; though they looked beaten, Lazar was relieved to see that Ashar was guiding them east.

"Hang on," he whispered toward them. "One hour, that's all."

And then, curiously, Lazar and Ana's camel swung in a new direction.

"Hey," he called, pulling on the reins, but she ignored him.

"She knows only one way," Ana murmured.

"What did you say?"

"Her name is Farim. She knows only one path. She will take us there safely."

"Where are we going?"

"You will see."

"Look, Ana," he said, pointing.

She raised weary eyes.

"It's Arafanz. Look at him squinting. He can't even see through the sands this far, but I swear I could reach and touch him. I know he can't hear us either."

"What is happening?" she asked softly.

"This is Lyana at work. The Samazen is your friend, Ana. It protected you once and it is doing so again. I'd hoped it would."

"How did you know?"

"I didn't. I took a terrible risk."

It had to be the magic surrounding them but Lazar suddenly felt young and uninhibited again, the way he'd felt before he'd even met Shara; a boy on his way to greatness, without any need to be shy or to shield his feelings. "When I saw you walk out of that fortress, my heart felt as though it stopped. In that moment I have never known such terrible pain and yet such a sense of elation. And I didn't even know you carried my son," he said, reaching around to stroke her taut belly, swollen with life. "All I knew was that if Arafanz had killed me then and there, I would have led an enviable life because you were in it and you had loved me."

"I still do," she sighed.

"Are you sure?"

"Why do you doubt me? I carry your child."

"Arafanz-"

"How he feels about me is his business. I have been his prisoner for many moons. I had to survive for our baby's sake."

"Did he ever..."

"No. He never pushed himself upon me. In truth, Lazar, he was tender and sweet. He is a different man when he is separated from his crusade."

"You like him," he said, keeping his tone even.

"Helplessly, yes, I do. He has a warped way of viewing loyalty and commitment to his faith, but when he's just being a man, on no mission, he is intelligent, gentle, amusing."

"As I said, I should be grateful that he kept you safe."

"I would be lying if I said I was unhappy here."

Such a notion had not occurred to Lazar. He felt his shoulders sag. "Do you regret me coming?"

Ana turned as best she could in the saddle. "No, Lazar, no." She leaned back against his bloodstained chest. "How could I? My son's father is here. The man I love, the only man I have ever loved, is here."

"Are you angry, Ana?"

"About Ganya? No. You are a man; I imagine-"

"I want to explain. There is so much to tell you, it's hard to know where to begin."

"Tell me from the day you rode away. Tell me all of it."

And so on the journey to the cave, above Farim's steady plod through the Samazen that howled around them but left beast and its cargo untouched, Lazar told Ana everything he could remember from the moment he slew the last of the Razaqin and picked up Herezah, to the moment Arafanz recaptured them.

"So Boaz was lying about Herezah?"

"He didn't know any different. She would have told him we were lovers. How was he to know it wasn't true?"

"You could have denied it."

"It was a delicate moment, Ana. We are facing war with my realm-there were more important things to worry about than Herezah's lies. And anyway, I looked guilty because Salmeo did interrupt us-"

"Oh, please don't tell me. It's not important. Nothing's important anymore other than the safe delivery of our son and the fact that we are together."

He hugged her, kissed the top of her damp hair, loving her all the more. "How are you feeling?"

"Weak. I'm sure I'm meant to be feeling stronger, Lazar. I have a long way to go in the birthing process yet, but I feel frail."

"You've been through a lot, had too many shocks, your waters broke early, and your baby is coming before it really wants to. This place we're heading for, is it proper shelter?"

"Yes. It is warm and dry, silent and calm. It is where I'm meant to be-I sense it is the place I've always been meant to be."

"Don't make it sound so final. I will keep us safe."

"Tell me about Iridor."

"Well, as I explained, he is now fully Iridor."

"But he continues to elude Maliz?"

"Yes, it's why he refuses to use his magics."

"I can't believe Boaz is gone," she said miserably.

"I realize now that I lost Boaz in the desert. I wasn't there. He died alone, no doubt fighting for his existence against a demon." A soft sob escaped Lazar. He hadn't meant to break, thought he was in control of himself, but this day had been like none other. Fighting was easy in comparison to the emotional turmoil he was struggling with. And worse, he felt nauseous and dizzy. He didn't want to admit what was nagging at his thoughts, refused to allow it to take hold in his mind.

Ana heard his choked breath. "Lazar, don't. I need you to be strong. You've always been so strong."

"I let him down. My Zar is dead and I could have prevented it." Was it a trick of the cocoon or was his eyesight narrowing.

"No, you're wrong," she said, reaching back to touch his unshaven face. "How could you know that this is what Maliz planned? He is a demon. He is relentless. He would have seen Boaz's weaknesses and preyed on them."

"You were his weakness, Ana. Only you made him vulnerable."

"So you see, I am to blame, not you."

"I didn't mean it like that, I-"

"No, I know you didn't. I'm simply stating a fact, Lazar. Boaz was vulnerable to any negativity about me. The demon would have sensed that from the earliest moment of his arrival into Tariq's body. Which meant he's had almost two years to prey on Boaz's weakness, especially if he's suspected me of being Lyana. And unfortunately Boaz paid for his vulnerability with his life."

"I had to do it, Ana."

"I know. Do you think Maliz is dead, then?"

"Iridor said he cannot be killed by mortal means. Only Lyana can destroy him."

"And we are no closer to her."

Lazar kept his own counsel on what Iridor and Ganya believed. This was not the time to share with Ana their suspicions. She was too emotionally fragile and Ana had enough to think about and cope with right now. "Don't worry about Lyana just now. Think only of our child."

"Lazar!" she moaned. "Here comes a contraction. I need to stop."

Obediently Farim halted at his call, and in their desert womb, Lazar laid Ana down and held her hand as she groaned her way through the pain he could not hope to save her from. When it was over, she was left panting, perspiration beading on her face.

"That was a big one. He's closer. Our boy is nearly ready to enter this cruel world," she said, then she screamed as Lazar toppled forward on top of her, his skin burning with fever.

Somehow-Ganya would never know how-they had stumbled through the storm. Their camel had walked into dunes and at one point refused to move any farther, so they had taken turns hauling at her, unable to see beyond their noses but moving forward inch by painful inch.

Now night was falling and it was certainly cooler. The Samazen's might had lessened slightly, she was sure of it, but not enough to feel in any way safe. Despite the fury of the storm, she was grateful for it. Without the Samazen they would have been pursued and killed, and although it would probably kill them itself, it made them invisible and allowed them to die more nobly in the desert.

She wished that they could have stayed with Lazar somehow, and was surprised to find herself envious of Ana. Envy was not an emotion she normally suffered. Even when she had unintentionally glimpsed some of the turmoil within the Spur, had felt the power of the bond between him and the Zaradine, the helpless love that drove him toward her, she had not felt anything other than sorrow on their behalf. But now, having shared his body and felt so close to his problems, she wanted him.

"We have to stop," she begged Ashar, who had chosen to trudge beside her.

"I think we're almost there," he shouted.

"How can you know?"

"Oh, I have a great sense of direction-it's like magic," he said, surprising her by chuckling.

"You know, I hardly know you, Ashar."

"Yes, I really am very different from the boy you remember," he replied, irritating her already vexed mood further by laughing. "Just a few more minutes."

"I don't understand how you can know that. I can't see anything, can't recognize anything. We are blind."

"You, perhaps, but not me," he said cryptically, urging the camel harder. "No more talking," he ordered, and she pursed her lips at his abrupt manner, doggedly pressing on in silence, telling herself to be comforted that they were still alive.

The light was fading and Herezah felt like a hapless moth, drawn to the harbor as to a flame. So many Galinsean warships were gathering. The city was silent. Only ghosts walked through the bazaar now. Percheron was empty of the usual smells of spices and cooking; even the fragrance of jasmine and the exotic scents from the palace gardens seemed to have faded.

The ships were not elegant like the Perchereste craft. They seemed crude in structure but they were far more intimidating for that rough dark timber and the brightly painted creatures that were carved proudly at the helm. She saw dragons, winged lions, all manner of mythical beasts. They were close enough now that she could make out the tiny figures of men scampering up and down the masts, pulling down sails, going about the business of preparing for war.

Percheron, by comparison, was frozen in fear. Captain Ghassal had come to her once again for instructions but she had refused to give the go-ahead to engage their enemy.

"But, Crown Valide, perhaps if we strike first before they can amass-"

"No, Captain Ghassal. I will not give the Galinseans the satisfaction of saying we loosed the first burning arrow. I don't want war. If it is to find us, at least we will not provoke it."

"Crown Valide, with all due respect," he had pleaded, "war is here. There is no more waiting. The Spur would demand that we defend ourselves."

"Defend. Absolutely we defend. Do you know the meaning of the word defend, Captain Ghassal?"

He had stammered, looked toward Bin for help, but the secretary had looked away. "I-"

"Let me define it for you, Captain. Defense is about resisting attack. It is not about attacking. Defense is about protection from attack. And I intend to take the literal meaning of defense and live by that creed. In your book, defense might mean taking a more aggressive position, but, Captain Ghassal, we will lose hundreds of our innocent men in such a move. I feel utterly sure that, as proud as Spur Lazar is, he would see the hopelessness of our situation and he would move toward diplomacy."

"But, Crown Valide, diplomacy was finished when Queen Angeline died on the barge."

"You don't have to remind me of the facts, Captain Ghassal. I am a woman, which I know you're not used to dealing with. Please be assured that I am not stupid and I can see that the Galinseans want us to fight. They are hoping for any excuse to take out their grief, their anger, and their long-held bitterness about beautiful, naturally endowed Percheron on this city. I will not give them any further excuse. Falza is shrewd-we know this much-and he would be seen as less than a warrior if he launches an attack against a helpless woman, a regent at that." Herezah had loaded her words with sarcasm. "As long as I appear pathetic and terrified, it buys us a little time." She had held up her hand when he'd tried to speak. "No, Captain. I am not naive enough to believe it will stay his anger entirely but time is all we can count on. We are no match for their might or fighting prowess, and with all respect to your own talent, I think our inexperienced army needs its Spur if it is going to have any chance of standing up to the bullying Galinseans. And we wait. Those who wanted to have already left the city. Those who wished to stay are now behind the city walls, and indeed most are behind the palace walls." She had looked at Bin, who had nodded. "I have no issue if you offer your men the option to put down their weapons. This is not a lack of courage. This is sensible."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Crown Valide."

She had smiled behind her veil. "I had expected you to feel this way. They understand that any resistance will be met with stern repercussions?"

"They understand that to be part of the Protectorate is to be prepared to die for Percheron."

She nodded. "Then I suggest you call in the priests to say final prayers. No soldier who resists will be spared. I will not think less of you, Captain, if you take your family and head for the foothills."

"But I would think less of me, Crown Valide. I am Spur Lazar's chosen deputy. My family has been sent away. They understand it is likely I will not join them or see them again."