"Do I bury this?"

"No. Leave it. The pillars want it."

Lazar felt a wave of revulsion. "Why?"

"I don't know. A part of Lyana's incarnation, perhaps," she said wearily.

"What can I do for you?"

"Nothing. Perhaps some water if you're strong enough now to crawl back through the tunnel. There is a fresh spring at the back of the original cave and a bowl nearby that Arafanz used. Look for it. Come carefully with it, for I have a terrible thirst."

"I'll be back quickly."

"Lazar, wait!"

"What, my love?"

"Will you kiss me once more?"

"There will be plenty of time for that when-"

"Please," she begged.

And he did, kneeling low to touch his lips gently to hers, a hand helplessly reaching toward the softly moaning Luc as he slept at his mother's breast.

"I love you," she whispered. "Never forget that, will you?"

He frowned at her sadly. She must be very tired if she was getting so sentimental. He kissed her again, and then, glad to be useful, he bounded away.

Ellyana had been watching and felt intense relief when she heard the boy's first cry. He was strong. He could survive, and Lazar would, if he unlocked his own secrets, get the child back to Percheron, fulfilling both father's and son's roles.

But Ana's role was over now. She moved swiftly, gracefully across to the plinth, where the pillar murmured a soft welcome.

Ana heard their chimes and her eyes opened. She was not surprised, it seemed, to see the crone.

"Ellyana. It was your presence I felt."

"Yes, dear one. I did not wish to interrupt."

"He is safe."

"Do you mean your son or the man you love?"

Ana smiled sadly. "I think they are now one in my mind."

"The boy is robust."

"You're taking him away from me, aren't you?"

"Lazar must."

"Please, I-"

"Ana, beloved one. It is your time."

Ana stared at her for several long moments before a tear escaped, rolling down the side of her cheek to splash on the rock on which she lay. The rock seemed to absorb the moisture, thanking her with a soft chime through the pillars.

"Must I?"

Ellyana nodded sorrowfully. "I'm afraid so. You are losing a lot of blood. Lazar has noticed."

"But he doesn't understand."

"No. But I don't think we should make this any more traumatic than it already must be. Time is short. I have come to collect you. We need what you have."

"I didn't want to believe it."

"Believe it," Ellyana replied. "The pillars do not lie to you."

"Can I not say good-bye?" she begged.

"You already did. To prolong it would simply be cruel. He will never understand and he still has a long journey and some challenges ahead of him before we can be sure he has fulfilled his role. Best we just do this now. All you have to do is take my hand."

"My son, he-"

"The pillars protect him. They always will. You must let him go. Lazar will find him and Lyana's work will continue."

"Ellyana, why can't Lazar and I be together?"

"Because you are dying, dear one. And we must do what we must do before you pass away. It was always going to be like this. Did the pillars not tell you?"

"Yes. But they are ambiguous in how they speak to me and I didn't want to believe what I thought they were conveying. I hoped I was wrong."

"Come, sweet Ana. Lyana needs you, but not here."

Ana raised herself and looked at the mess beneath her, clutching her son, who stirred and whimpered. "I will bleed out before we can do this."

"I will not allow that. We have come too far, been too cunning. And now we really must go. Maliz is not dead, and although he is now distracted, he will feel the arrival of his powers once they are triggered. We must be nowhere that he can find us."

Ana began to cry. She carefully took Ellyana's hand and felt a spike of energy pass between all three of them.

"She is amongst us, Ana," Ellyana soothed, tears in her eyes. "We are nearly there. For her sake, you must now let him go."

She watched with a deep sadness as the young woman-still too young to be facing motherhood, let alone death from it-kissed her baby tenderly. "Grow strong, Luc. Love your father and ask him about me. You must know how much we loved each other to understand how much I love you. Forgive me for leaving you." She kissed him again, long and softly, weeping as she did so, her tears touching his soft downy hair, golden and glinting beneath the pillars' colors.

"Place him down, Ana. Lazar comes."

"Where are we going?"

"Back to where you came from. We go into the Samazen that protects the Mother."

"She cannot protect me any longer."

"She will take you gently to your death. You are giving her what she wants and she will always look after those you have loved."

"I never said good-bye to Pez."

"Iridor will feel your passing. He will know you said farewell. Come now, someone awaits us outside."

Ana took one final glance at her gurgling son before, stooped and feeling close to death already, she allowed Ellyana to help her down from the plinth and remove her robes.

"You don't need these anymore," Ellyana whispered, changing into the beautiful young woman Pez had first met in the harem when she had posed as a bundle woman. "Here, I can carry you now, child." And Ana fell into the woman's arms, feeling herself borne away, as if by magic, into the sands.

Lazar struggled down the narrow tunnel, desperately trying to keep the water from overbalancing. Ana would appreciate the cool, refreshing feeling of its sweetness slipping down her throat. And it would help her to feed their boy. He couldn't imagine how they were supposed to travel back to Percheron as swiftly as the pillars had demanded, but at least Farim was still there in the cave opening, much to his surprise and pleasure. He had stolen a moment to stroke her velvet muzzle, thanking her for being so faithful.

He had just emerged from the shaft when the cry of his son grabbed his attention. Startled, he noticed the child was alone on the plinth, crying wretchedly. Where could Ana have gone? And how could she have gone anywhere, bleeding like she was? He felt a surge of happiness at the thought that the bleeding must have stopped. She had probably moved somewhere away from the plinth to relieve herself.

"Ana?" he called. "I'm back with your delicious water. Where are you?"

Apart from the child's fresh cries, he received no answer.

Frowning deeply now, he put the water down and ran to the plinth to pick up their son. It was only then he noticed the robe cast away on the ground. Ana had undressed? Whatever for?

He must have muttered this aloud without realizing it, for the pillars answered. The Mother has gone.

"Gone?"

Taken.

He stared at their pulsing colors.

Her robe has been left for the child. Wrap him up in it for when you leave.

"Leave? I'm not leaving without Ana. Where has she been taken?"

Away, the pillars chimed, irritating him now. The baby was mewling, determined to win his attention, and he capitulated, bending to gently pick up his son, soothing him with soft words, surprised he could divorce the anger he was suddenly feeling at Ana's disappearance. He strode over to where the robe was carelessly left and wrapped his boy in its soft linen that was stained with Ana's blood.

That was it, that's what was wrong. He whipped around, marched back up to the plinth. "This area was all bloodied just moments ago. Who cleaned it?"

This is an altar. We have absorbed what the Mother left us.

"The afterbirth, it was here, it was-"

We have consumed that also. It is now part of the temple.

Lazar knew there was little point in raging at colorful pillars that speak, but still he did. "This is outrageous. Where is Ana?" The baby began to cry again at his yelling.

Be calm for the child, the pillars cautioned. It is almost time.

"For what?"

Ana is about to die.

"What?" he roared. He lost his breath, felt as though he was suddenly seeing double. He looked quickly for something to lean against lest he fall and hurt Luc, and he chose a pillar-it was the least they could do. "You must explain, I beg you."

Ana is dying, Lazar. She was dying from the moment her labors began. You must not blame yourself or anyone. This was Lyana's plan.

"Her plan? Her plan?" he demanded, ignoring the child's squalls now. "She is killing her?"

No, they chimed in their irritatingly soothing way. She is simply dying. The birth of the Goddess was always going to claim her life. You must not blame the child. Take your son, Lazar. He must go to Percheron and lay claim to the throne immediately. The war has begun and the Percherese are dying, the city is burning. There is nothing more you can do here. Take Luc and go. Ah, the time is here. Watch.

And at that moment the pillars exploded into iridescent white light, blinding Lazar. They burned so bright they looked to be on fire.

"What is happening?" Lazar called, closing his eyes tightly, holding his son close in Ana's bloodied robe.

The Mother is dead.

"Ana? You mean-"

Ana has died with your name on her lips.

Lazar lost all sense of who he was for the next few moments. All he was aware of was the newborn cradled to his chest and the heartrending sound he knew passed through the child as he let his grief rip forth angrily, throwing back his head, falling helplessly to his knees, and howling his despair. Together, father and son, light blazing all about them, cast their sorrow to the heavens. Lazar felt all the anger that he connected with Ana's ill-treatment well up and overflow like a poison through his body. And through his howls of pain he felt the old scar at his heart tear and finally rip open to loose all the bitterness of his life; everything he had kept private and closed up inside the vault of his heart exploded outward. He saw stars as he hurled his desolation at Lyana, the target of his wrath. And in that desolation he found new words with which to curse her. Ancient words. He threw them at her now, spitting them as if they were daggers to wound. He hardly understood the words, and yet, deep within his heart, he knew he did comprehend them and that they were not words of injury but of an ancient summoning as he shattered a centuries-old curse.

He was answered, but not by anyone he expected.

Lazar! came Beloch's voice. We hear you. See through our eyes.

And suddenly Lazar was looking through Beloch's eyes, seeing what the giant could witness from his vantage, and he saw Percheron burning.

The Samazen had died suddenly. One minute the sands had been raging about him, if slightly diminished in their intensity from when he had escaped with Ganya, but now they had quietened to nothing more than soft eddies here and there. No longer was the wind screaming, or his face being lashed by the grit. And in that exact moment as the Samazen died, Maliz felt a pulse of power surge through Ashar's body, so strong that it knocked him off the camel. He laughed from the soft landing that the sand afforded him and the laughter turned to a demonic howl of delight.

Here it was! Lyana had been incarnated. And he understood now. It had been the child. The child that Ana had been carrying was Lyana all along, hiding and biding her time. It all suddenly made sense. Ana had been found, unbelievably surviving a Samazen because she was the mother-to-be of Lyana. He could kick himself for being so dull as to not see this long before the event. He could have killed Ana on so many occasions, and yet, like all those she met, he had been seduced somewhat by her innocence and delicious charm. She had never been Lyana but she had hidden the Goddess and he could not help but marvel at the complexity of this battle.

And so there was now a baby, no doubt being secreted away somewhere. But he would find it. Everyone believed the child to be an heir and hadn't Herezah told him that her crone Yozem had done a blood reading and assured her that Ana's child would be a boy? He staggered to his feet, still laughing. Lyana was going to hide beneath the skin of a male once again. That old trick! He loved it-she'd tried it only once before. Very clever indeed but he would get to that Zar. He would keep changing bodies until he could reach the child somehow. He could feel all the otherworldly power at his fingertips suddenly. Now he could do what he wanted. He no longer needed the camel to travel. He no longer needed to eat, to drink. He was finally fully the demon Maliz.

He fled in the direction of Percheron, using his magics to transport himself and leaving the beast to wander the sands. He would lie in wait for the arrival of Spur Lazar, who he was now absolutely sure would take custody of the Zar now that he knew the boy was his. It was going to be such a pleasure to deal with Lazar and then he would destroy the boy and any hopes of those who believed the Goddess could ever find her way back into the hearts of the people.

Iridor felt it; it was double-edged. First, a strong painful pulse of power that seemed to throb through him. It wasn't his power, though, and it didn't remain with him but instead passed through him. He recognized it from a deep-rooted ancient wisdom, a knowledge etched in his soul somewhere that made him instinctively know that it was Lyana, becoming incarnate. Ana's baby had been born. The second feeling, equally painful, was a deep sense of loss that he didn't understand but realized must coincide with the sudden diminishing of the Samazen.

Iridor had no way of confirming what had occurred but he suspected this was connected with Ana, whose very existence seemed to be in harmony with the Samazen. He felt a flicker of worry. It was time to leave Arafanz's fortress. He would wait and see if he could find out what had happened to his friends-hopefully everyone had remained safe even though they had been incarcerated. As he took his first tentative steps from beneath the rock ledge, he heard a commotion outside and instantly leaped to a vantage from where he could see what was occurring. To his surprise he saw Arafanz, normally so calm and tidy, looking disheveled and stirred up, shouting at his men as they ran toward the place where the camels were stored. And Arafanz's clothes looked to be singed. What could have happened? There was no sign of Ana, Lazar, of Boaz or Ganya...and there was certainly no sign of a baby. And yet Iridor could feel it in his very soul that the child had been born. That pulse of power confirmed it. So why were Arafanz and his men now leaping onto camels-whom were they pursuing?

He meant to find out.

Lazar watched, dumbstruck, as his precious Percheron burned. He could hear the screams, he could see his father's war galley proudly flying the royal pennant, and his gut twisted at the sight.

Show me the palace, he groaned. What do you see?

Beloch moved his gaze. People are out on the balconies.