"About the temple?"

"He's right. Collapsed just as Og left. Most of it anyway. The last I saw, the first seven or eight stories still stood, if somewhat shakily," said Cheyne. "You are thinking about your father?" he asked the selkie.

"Yes. Did you see him?" she asked.

"No. But we did hear him just before the temple fell. Perhaps he escaped."

"Perhaps he did. Perhaps he is right here behind you," said a voice from over Cheyne's shoulder. Frijan turned, her face incredulous.

"Father? No… how can this be? My sire is no bent greybeard."

"And my daughter no tall, strong woman. You forget, child, how long I have been imprisoned by the poisoner. I forgot, too. It was, to say the least, a shock to find myself with bent back and bowed legs. The poison has done me grave harm, it seems. Fortunately, I met the delta guards, and they helped me to cover most of the damage up with this rag."

He leaned hard on his newly cut walking stick and pointed to his ill-fitting tunic. Claria eyed it closely,

noting that the design looked remarkably like the decoration on Riolla's slaves' garments. Cheyne and Claria introduced themselves, and when it was Og's turn, a strange smile crossed Wiggulf's lips. He held out a short, webbed fingered hand to each of them.

"Greetings to you all, and welcome to my kingdom. I am Wiggulf, the riverking, and I apologize for my inability to meet you properly. I have just escaped, with the help of an orcess, of all people, from the Wyrvil water dungeon. The poisoner is dead!" He laughed, bowing painfully to Cheyne, Claria, and Og, Wiggulf straightened abruptly when the others did not share his laughter.

"No, Riverking, he is not," said Cheyne.

"What? But I saw as we escaped-the bone temple has fallen into the sea. Rotapan never leaves, except to pour out his poisons upon the waters of the cauldron. But you say he lives?" Wiggulf took a few steps toward them with the aid of his walking stick.

"He and the Sumifan Schreefa follow us, Riverking," said Og. "Rotapan, um, seems to believe this stone is his." He held up the staff, its serpent's head still covered with the rag. Even so, Wiggulf drew back instinctively at the sight of the poisoner's rod.

"Where did you get that?" he asked roughly.

"We retrieved it from the waters as we ran from Rotapan,B said Cheyne quickly. "The stone in the serpent's eye truly belongs to Og, and was stolen from him many years ago."

"Then our stone was also yours to begin with… for the four were all from the hand of the same workman, cut to fit one to the other. Just like the old stories, which say our kingdoms used to be joined." Wiggulf considered the thought, a frown crossing his wizened face. "We must hurry to the lodge."

The others made to follow him but, Frijan hung back, still uncertain. Wiggulf could bear it no longer. "Please come to me, Frijan. I have missed you…" he said quietly, holding out his thin arms to his daughter.

Teri McLaren

As Frijan embraced her father, Cheyne turned and looked behind him into the forest, remembering his last words to [avin, an unbearable feeling of sadness overwhelming him. He jerked his head back suddenly. No. / will not look back, he thought, setting his jaw.

Claria studied his bitter expression closely, but said nothing, her thoughts interrupted as Og drew closer, a look of terror on his face.

"Did you hear him? He said Womba escaped with him. That means she's on her way here. We have to leave as soon as we can and go on toward the mountains," he whispered to them both.

"Why? There are enemies still on our trail, we're all tired, we need more suitable clothing, I need a chance to think, and before we try for the Sarrazan forest, we have to get some provisions," said Cheyne. "Unless, of course, you can sing all those things out of the air for us right now, Og." He winked. "But maybe that's not a good idea-we might see Womba even sooner…"

Og did appreciate Cheyne's attempt at humor.

But Wiggulf and Frijan heard Claria laugh and moved to join them.

"What about this one? Did he attack you?" said Wiggulf, pointing to Yob, who had been lying all this time almost hidden upon the forest floor. The color had completely drained from the big ore's face, and he was still trembling violently.

"No, Father. I found him half-drowned by the sea. He was to help with your ransom. I cut him with a razorclam to make him cooperate. He'll die soon, I think. We can leave him here; it's far enough away from the lodge. The corbies will take him inside a day or two," Frijan replied.

Wiggulf met his daughter's eyes, a look of surprise and disappointment clouding his face. "My child, the terrible burden of my absence has made you hard. No, Frijan, we cannot let him die. There is no need. He deserves life as much as any of us."

The old selkie bent over the ore and examined the

cut. "Ah, time is short. The wound is already sour. Once the cut of the razorclam was not even serious, but now, since Rotapan's been dumping his poison potions as sacrifices to that imaginary water worm in the sea, the smallest nick is deadly. Well, best get on with it. Give me the stone, girl."

Frijan's silver eyes went wide with disbelief. "You would use the stone on one such as this? One of the enemy, who held you captive in that pit? Father, how could you? At your best, your strongest, using the stone for the life song always made you ill. It will kill you in this weakened condition."

"So you never were going to make Yob well? You were just using him until you got what you wanted?" said Og.

"You know this ore?" she said incredulously.

"Well, he has done me several favors, I suppose you could say. It's kind of a complicated relationship," said Og.

"Stay out of this, little man. To me he is but an ore, so I am his enemy. Don't make me yours, too," she snapped.

Og threw up his hands and withdrew behind Cheyne.

"Well, somebody either help him or kill him," said Claria. "I can't bear seeing him suffer."

Wiggulf beckoned to his daughter again. "I said give me the stone. I am still your father, and your king. Obey, Frijan."

Out of old habit, Frijan submitted, tearing the water sapphire from her ear and handing it to him. "I cannot watch this! You come back, after all these years, after all my waiting and hoping, and now you will go, this time forever, inside the same tide. For the sake of a filthy greenskin!"

She bounded away into the forest, leaving Wiggulf holding the dark stone to his heart, his eyes following her sadly.

"I love you, Frijan," he whispered, knowing she did