I know that one of the True Dragons, the Kantrishakrim as they are called, is here—it nearly stopped me from capturing the girl. The rest will not be far behind. Marik has done so much good, at least: I know the Kantri are coming. Truly, that surprised me. It seems that in the making of the Black Dragon the island was overwhelmed in fire. I had not planned that. However, it is all moot.

If the Black Dragon arrives first, all well and good, for it houses the soul of the Demonlord, and will be the death of the Kantri. I do not hope for this, for the thing is a golem, living stone despite the half-demon soul that animates it. I must support its every wingbeat, and even I grow weary on occasion. I shall have to make another sacrifice of blood—not mine, of course!—this night before I face the Mages. It is proving a great deal harder to support the creature than I had anticipated, though I am well 3qual to the task.

If the Kantri should arrive first—well, I have a demonline ready and waiting, and in a breath I can be hundreds of leagues distant and the way closed behind me, and they with no way of knowing where I might be. And the Black Dragon, the Demon-lord incarnate, will arrive eventually. In that moment the fate of the Kantrishakrim will be sealed.

I am thankful now for the foresight I showed in establishing this cantrip which records my thoughts in this book even as I think them. It is vastly easier than sitting and writing for hours. I have one operating on Marik as well. It has helped me to check that he is telling me the truth. The poor idiot is too stupid to lie, it seems. It is well. And for myself, when I come into my own, it is good that there will be a true record of my coming to power, that the slaves may know how they came to their slavery. Despair is truly the most satisfying sauce.

The next step takes place this very night. I have commanded an assembly of the College after the evening meal and they will all attend. After all, why should they not answer the summons of their beloved Archimage? I have hidden my true self, the power of my arts, for many long years. I have cultivated the goodwill of my fellow Mages even while despising them, for it has taken so very long to prepare myself—but tonight, kind, caring Archimage Berys will die, and in the place of that weakling I will stand revealed to them at last, in my true self. I will offer the choice to my College, to join me or to die. I expect most of the fools will choose death, but I may perhaps gain a few willing souls from among the students. There are many who desire more power than has been given them by the Lady.

And if all else fails, they will make splendid demon fodder.

I woke to the sound of Idai's voice in truespeech. "Come, Akhor, it is not like you to miss a meal," she said, her voice light in my thoughts. I sat up, disoriented, rubbed my face, and opened my eyes to find myself little the wiser. It was late afternoon. The sun was falling behind the western hills, and a chill wind was beginning to swirl around us, as if it were not certain which direction to come from. Wrapped in a cloak I had not been wearing, asleep beside Shikrar and Maran in the middle of a field—but where-—oh.

"Idai, where are the Kantri? Where are the Lost? How do they fare?"

"Peace, my friend," she said quietly. "All is well." I rose and walked with her, a little away from the others, leaving them to sleep. "All of our people have followed Kedra to that farmers field, to eat and drink and rest. The Lost—ah, it is long and long since they were trapped. Imagine if you went into the Weh sleep and woke five kells later! There is a great deal for them to learn. We must not expect it to happen overnight." She sighed. "Oh, my friend. Think of all the Kantri who have worked towards this day—three full generations, birth unto ending—so many who dreamed of a joyous release for those trapped souls. I am such a fool. In all my hopes, I never imagined that the restoration of the Lost would be so heart-searing." She closed her eyes for a moment. "Akhor, the last thing that most of them recall is throwing themselves at a treacherous Gedri who had killed their mates, their parents, their children; I do not know if there is enough time or reason in the world to overcome their hatred."

"If time and reason are not enough, we shall have to see what compassion may do," I said resolutely. For all my exhaustion, I felt now braver and brighter than I had for days. "Come, Idai, throw off this gloom! I too longed for a day of glory for the Lost—but I will forego that pleasure for the wonder of their restoration, however painful."

"Ah, yes. You remind me. Treshak has said that they now wish to be known as the Restored, Dhrenagan in the Old Speech, not the Lost any longer. We have taken to referring to them so." She sighed once more, then drew herself up, into the Attitude of Resolve. "You have the right of it, as ever, Akhor. We will surely be able to help them. Damaged they are, certainly, and confused, but time is our great ally. Time will heal the heart's wounds and show the restored mind the way of reason."

I could not help it, I laughed aloud. "So it will, Iderrisai, therefore be not afeared of giving them time to come to realise that they are free! That must be a shock nearly as great as finding themselves imprisoned." I smiled, though I somehow felt a traitor to Lanen at doing so. "Idai, think of it. The Lost are restored to us. At last they are free, after all this dreadful march of years! Bless every Wind that ever blew! Whether they are yet able to rejoice surely is of less moment than their return." I let out a deep sigh. "And I will at last be able to sleep peacefully, without the memory of those flickering soulgems to haunt my dreams. However it has come about, whatever the consequences, this is a wonder." I dropped into truespeech. "Even for those who chose the swift fire of death, my friend. We have done them the greatest service of all. At last, after so many kells of torment, they may rest."

"You have the right of it," she said, dropping down again from the formal Attitude. "Name of the Winds, Akhor! This has truly been a day of wonders, but I would give a great deal for it to be over. I am weary as I never thought I could be, weary in heart and wing and soul. I could sleep for a full moon. Can it possibly be that we only arrived here with the dawn?" She hissed her amusement. "My word on it, Akhor. I never valued peace and quiet nearly enough."

"Perhaps none of us did," I replied with a smile. We moved back to the others and Idai woke Shikrar. She spoke with him in a low voice, doubtless telling him what she had just told me, as she walked him slowly over to the little stream, where clear water and half a cow awaited him. I sat down beside Maran, too weary yet even to walk to the inn. She still slept—and in every line of her, I saw my beloved Lanen. My throat began to tighten, and though I knew it to be useless, I could not stop myself sending out to her in truespeech. "Lanen, beloved, can you hear me? My heart declares that you yet live, for it beats still, but my life is airless darkness without you. 'Where are you, dearling? Kadreshi, beloved, where are you?" A sudden thought occurred to me—perhaps she could hear but not respond? "Lanen, beloved, we are searchingfor you! I will not cease, I will not rest until I find you, and by my soul I swear I will come for you though all the Hells should lie between us."

No answer but silence.

I bowed my head, sorrow and a deep emptiness round me, until a short while later a glorious scent, entirely out of place in an open field, came wafting past me: bread and meat. And was that chelan? I turned—and there, preceded only by the scent of what he bore, was Will arrived like the wind of heaven, bearing food and drink. He put down his tray and woke Maran gently. She sat up, moaned, and reached for the chelan. I was astounded at the reaction of this body. As one of the Kantri, I would not even consider eating when sorrow wrapped my soul, but this Gedri body craved fuel and I reached out for it.