"What are you waiting for?" Rosana demanded.

"Nothing," he answered in decision.

"Let us get going, then. We've far to go to reach our journey's end."

She was most certainly correct. A long journey lay before him no matter which path he chose. And a happy outcome was not likely at the end of any road he took. But he could honor his parents, at least.

He nodded with finality. So be it.

Rosana grabbed his hand, and he let her drag him down the left-hand turning of the path. Toward Dupree. In search of a man called Aurelius and whatever he might know of a quest to find a sleeping king.

Raina trudged along behind Cicero, tired and hungry and thirsty. But mostly tired. They had been walking all day, stopping only to hide when other travelers came close. She did not know what she would have done without the kindari. A sense of comfort clung to him. Mayhap it was because his presence made her feel slightly connected to home, still. Although taciturn for the most part, Cicero seemed generally at ease with her as well. But then, she had that effect on most people.

She chewed anxiously on a fingernail as she weighed her options. A perplexed farmer had paused long enough in plowing his field earlier to inform her and Cicero that they were in Hyland, a week's hard march west of the city of Dupree. The hills they had walked out of overnight were the Grimshaw Hills. Not, the farmer informed them, a place anyone who wished to live for long visited. He gave them directions to the main highway between Hyland and Dupree, somewhat south of their current location.

Her mother would search for Raina up to a point. But instinct told her that part of Charlotte secretly approved of her daughter's rebellion. Her mother would probably not give chase outside of Tyrel, which Raina most definitely was, now.

The Mages of Alchizzadon were another story, however. They would not give up the search for her anytime soon. They had years in which to find her and kidnap her for their purposes. She must do the unexpected. Keep the mages off balance and off her trail. Everyone would expect her to go back to Tyrel, or at least the Midlands, which lay just to the north of Tyrel. To places she was familiar with and where her name and rank held some weight. Dupree it was, then. They would find this main road and circle back to the east and the capital city. She'd be twice cursed before she'd go down to defeat cowering like a terrified mouse. After all, she was a daughter of Tyrel.

The outrage that had driven her from home last night had dwindled to a dull, steady ache of betrayal. Why had her mother gone along with the mages' plan? Raina trudged on, determination to foil the mages hardening in her heart. Or mayhap it was nothing more than pure, bullheaded stubbornness that kept her moving. It wasn't noble, but it was enough to shuffle her feet forward, one weary step after another. Away. Away from those who were supposed to love her and keep her safe. Away from those who'd failed her.

As sunset's pink faded to gray, Cicero veered off the path. She staggered after him, so exhausted she barely spotted the thin thread of smoke rising ahead of them until they were practically upon a low sod cottage.

"I believe it would be best that you call out a greeting rather than myself," Cicero muttered. "A female voice is eminently less threatening than an unknown male voice."

"If you got rid of that sword, you'd be a fair sight less threatening," she mumbled back.

Cicero's only answer was a snort of never-going-to-happen.

"Hullo!" she called out over the growling of her stomach.

In a moment the sagging door opened. A crofter peered out suspiciously. "'Oo goes?"

She dared not use her own name, but hadn't thought of a false name or cover story. She stammered, "Uh-h, travelers. Seeking board and bed for the night."

"Ye got coin?"

Her mother or a servant had always carried money for Raina. Alarmed, she glanced at Cicero, who shook his head in the negative as well. "Nay," she answered the peasant, "but we've skills to trade."

He looked her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl. Suddenly she was entirely grateful for that lethal sword on Cicero's hip.

A female voice floated out the door, "'Oo be ye flappin' at, Arv?"

"Summat travelers. Offerin' ta trade skills for sup and a piece o' floor."

"Wha' skills?" the woman asked.

The man looked back Raina's way. "Whadda ye do?"

Raina thought fast. She dared not offer Cicero's skills in smuggling, thievery, or swordplay. As for her, teaching court dances or classical lute tunes or poetry composition would be of no use here. Nor fine needlework, illuminating a manuscript, or translating between a dozen different languages. "I can cook and clean," she tried.

The farmer grunted, "Mag does 'at. Do ye make candles or soap or spin thread, mayhap?"

Oh, why hadn't she paid more attention when her tutors had tried to teach her the details of such things? Desperate, she offered, "I can make a magical light that will last throughout the night."

The man's jaw dropped. "Slip of a thing like ye can do magic?"

The woman exclaimed from inside, "Magic? Be she an 'ealer?"

Raina replied eagerly, calling out to be heard by the woman inside, "I can do some healing!" The Heart controlled the teaching and use of healing magics very closely, but she'd been allowed to learn a few simple healing spells outside the guild because of her noble rank.

"Praise be." The farmer was shouldered out of the way by a gap-toothed woman of indeterminate age with an enormous belly proclaiming an advanced state of pregnancy. "Me name's Mag. Whot's yourn?"

Cicero intervened smoothly, "I am known as Cicero and my traveling companion answers to Carin."

"Come wit' me, Carin. Me milch cow's ailin' and I canna lose her." Mag rubbed her round belly. "Not wit' a bun in the oven so close to cooked."

Raina frowned. What was this woman doing with that bucket and broom in her hands? Didn't she know expectant mothers should not work? They were to rest and relax and concentrate on growing the babe. It was said to be bad for the babe to do aught else. But this woman appeared to have been in the midst of heavy housework to no ill effect.

Then the rest of the woman's words sank in. A cow? They wanted her to heal a cow? She had no idea if her healing magics would even work on an animal. Only one way to find out. And if it meant food, no matter how rude, she'd give it a try.

Raina asked in resignation, "Where's this beast?"

The woman led her to a low lean-to behind the hovel. Mag stomped heedlessly through the muck and manure, while Raina picked gingerly through it as best she could. Not that it mattered. Her slippers were already ruined.

"'Ere she be," Mag announced.

Raina spied a giant white-and-black bovine standing in a dark corner, her head hanging low. She made her way to the animal and laid a hand on her side. The animal jerked her head up, and Raina leaped back.

"She won' 'urt ye. She's 'bout to keel over dead. Ye came jus' in the nick o' time."

Raina reached out again and touched the beast's rough hide. The cow was hot to the touch. Feverish. And her breathing was raspy and labored. "Do you know what's wrong with her?" Raina asked Mag.

"Milk fever. Gots infection in 'er udder."

Raina leaned down to have a look. The normally pink bag was grotesquely swollen and a dark, angry red. A spell for curing disease, then. She knew how much magical energy a human required. Did a cow require more power in the delivery of the spell due to its size? Or perhaps multiple castings of the spell? Why had she never thought to ask such questions of her instructors?

It appeared she got to learn on the job. She laid her hands on the animal, cleared her mind, took a deep breath, and summoned power to her. She murmured an incant, and a cool, white glow built around her hands, dancing on the beast's hide. The cow lurched away weakly. Raina followed the animal's movements, maintaining her contact with the animal's rough coat, infusing the healing as slowly as she could into the creature so as not to panic her. Slowly, slowly, Raina felt vitality returning to the cow. As her flagging spirit grew stronger, Raina expended some extra energy just to be sure the cow would recover.

She lifted her hands away from the animal. "I think she'll be all right now."

"Orc's breath! Look 'ee there!"

Raina glanced down, and the cow's udder was already mostly returned to its proper size. It was still somewhat pinker than normal, but nowhere near like it had been before.

"I ain' seen no healin' like that afore. Ye be a mighty mage."

Gall roiled in her gut. Of course she was gifted. The females in her family were bred for magic. She was no different from yon cow.

"Come 'ee to the hut. We 'ave aught worthy to pay for what 'ee just done, but I'll share whot we've got."

Raina smiled. "A hot meal and a place to sleep for the night are all my companion and I ask."

"Roight fine-lookin' young man 'ee got there."

She stifled a giggle. Her and the bandit? He'd fly into one of the famous battle rages of the kindari if he heard Mag suggest such a thing.

The woman led Raina back to the sod hut as the last vestiges of twilight faded into true night. She ducked under the low door frame and stopped just inside, appalled. The only piece of furniture in the room, a wide plank set on two tied bundles of straw turned on end, was crowded round with no fewer than six filthy children and Arv. They sat on more tied bundles of straw.

Did such poverty exist in Tyrel, or had she been sheltered from it? Was this how all peasants lived? It was hardly better than an animal burrow.

Although a fire burned in the fireplace and the rough space was warm. A kettle simmered over the fire, and the smell emanating from it made Raina's mouth water profusely.

Several of the children slid over and made space for her at the makeshift table while Mag dished up wooden bowls of stew for everyone. Raina drank hers without the luxury of a spoon. Apparently, travelers were expected to provide their own. She must remember to pack one the next time she ran away from home.

The stew desperately needed seasoning, but it was hot. And filling. Casting the magic had made her even more voracious than she already was, and hunger was the best seasoning of all. She drank three bowls before she began to feel guilty for hogging this humble family's limited fare.

"Arv, ye'll ne'er believe whot she did ... why, the cow's practically as good as new. Just like 'at. I ain' ne'er seen the like...."

Raina tuned out the woman's description of the feat she'd just performed, concentrating instead on the sallow faces of the children. She reached out with her mind and was distressed to sense the weakness of their spirits. When her hostess finally wound down, Raina asked, "Mag, when you dress out an animal carcass, what do you do with the liver?"

"Why, I toss it to the dog if 'e be about."

"You might want to cut it up small into a stew and let the essence cook out of it. 'Twill put color in your children's cheeks and give them more energy. And spinach. Do you grow spinach in your garden? It is good for children and new mothers."

The woman nodded, wide-eyed. "Where did ye say ye be from? We don' get no 'igh 'ealers through these parts."

Cicero inquired casually, "With what frequency do healers travel through this area?"

"Maybe every other harvest. But none so gifted as yer lady frien'."

Arv piped up, "Las' 'eart 'ealer ter pass through were 'at crazy White 'eart feller. Whot were 'is name, Mag?"

"Balthazar. On 'is way to 'eal them orcs up north las' year. Ain' seen 'im since. Them Boki mus've kilt 'im."

Aghast, Raina replied, "What do you do for healing in the meantime?"

Mag shrugged. "We make do wit' 'erbs and potions. No' the fancy magical kind, mind ye. Jus' teas or poultices ter ease a tooth ill or the like."

Raina frowned. She knew a fair bit about herbal remedies, and many of them were effective. But just as many that floated about the market squares were completely useless. Mag might have just solved the thorny problem of how to finance a journey to Dupree, though. She asked, "Are people generally willing to trade bed and board for healing magics and potions?"

Everyone at the table laughed as if she'd just asked the most ridiculous question they'd ever heard.

"Gor' yes! 'Tis 'ow mos' 'ealers make their way. They go village ter village an' farm ter farm tradin' they's services for a meal 'n' roof."

Raina nodded slowly. Indeed.

Arv interrupted her thoughts. "Be ye in a great 'urry ter reach yer destination, then?"

Yet again, Cicero intervened. "To what end do you ask such a question?"

"Mag's time be comin'. 'Twould be a great comfort to 'ave someone such as ye 'ere. If'n she passed on and lef' me wit' all these bairn, Oi'd be in a bad way, Oi would."

Raina looked at the little faces around her, fear glinting in their big-eyed gazes at the idea of losing their mother. She glanced up at Mag. "How long until the babe comes?"

"On the morrow, may'ap. Mebbe a few days 'ence."

Raina winced. She and Cicero probably shouldn't tarry so long in one place. But then he shocked her by shrugging and announcing, "We are in no particular hurry to reach any specific destination."

She stared at him, stunned by his declaration, before turning to Mag. "There you have it. We shall tarry until the babe comes."

Justin prowled the keep restlessly as he had ever since Raina blinked out of existence in the doorway of the barn two nights before. He'd failed her. She'd begged for his help and he'd refused her. By the Void, he'd all but thrown her at that ruffian who'd disappeared with her to the Lady knew where. Where are you, muckling?

Justin being consumed with worry for her safety, his feet carried him without conscious thought to the southeast tower, and more specifically to the landing before Lady Charlotte's solar. If anybody knew where Raina had gone, it would be her mother. Not that Charlotte was likely to tell. Even the dullest clod could see the thick tension between the mistress of the keep and her two unwelcome guests.

The door to Lady Charlotte's office was closed. No doubt she was closeted with those cursed mages who'd scared Raina into bolting.

He glanced up and down the curving stairwell. The torches had already been lit, which meant the night watch was already posted. No one should come this way anytime soon. But just to be safe, he dipped the corner of his cloak in the bucket of water under the torch and used it to snuff the light. A faint odor of scorched wool filled the narrow landing.

He sidled up to the door and crouched at the keyhole. A key was in the lock and blocked his sight, but sound seeped out readily enough.

"... portents are strong. Everything will reach a crisis soon."

That was Kadir. The older mage.

"Bah!" Charlotte exclaimed. "Dreams and visions. They're naught but fancies and wishful thinking. What is soon to a soothsayer, anyway? A turning of the moon? A year? A hundred years? I care not for such nonsense unless these charlatans can tell me where my daughter is."

Justin rocked back on his heels, disappointed. Charlotte didn't know where Raina was, then. Unless she lied to the mages.

Kadir was speaking again. "... not understand. Great cycles of time and history are coming together all at once. We are deeply alarmed. The prophets with whom I consult are emphatically not charlatans. Such a convergence has not been recorded in millennia."

Justin sucked back a hiss that threatened to escape his teeth.

Kadir added forcefully, "And our daughter is at the very center of it all."

Our-What? Why would Kadir refer to Raina thus?

Periodic swishes of fabric indicated that Charlotte paced her office. A long silence unfolded, and Justin waited in agony to hear more. What mess had Raina landed in the middle of?

"Where is she, Kadir? Where did that blasted dousing rod take her?"

A deep sigh. "Would that I knew. We could not afford to lose that wand. My order was hoping to use Rowan's Wand to go in search of other artifacts associated with Rowan herself and with the Green Court."

Justin frowned. What court was this? The Imperial Seat was the only court he'd ever heard of.