"You who have not flown before, be warned," Kedra had said, flexing his wings as we climbed into his hands. "It is a wild night for flying. The air is full of sudden drops and cross-currents this night. It will be rough aloft."

That was when I learned that dragons are liars. It wasn't rough aloft, it was bloody terrifying aloft. Still, K6dra got us there alive, so I was inclined to forgive him. I did wish at the time that it hadn't been so dark, or so frightening, because I didn't expect to have the chance to fly again.

He landed outside the wall just as Shikrar released the survivors from the Great Hall. Vil and Aral went to join their friends; the rest of us milled about, helpless, but not willing to leave.

My eye was drawn first to a pair of observers—actually, they stood so close together it was hard to make out that they were two people. As it should be.

Once I knew that Lanen was free and safe in her husband's arms, I found a quiet corner from which to watch the proceedings. It was obvious that greater folk than I were needed, and they all rose to the challenge. When the students were taken to The Brewer's Arms I followed, and managed to get a room to myself. To be honest, I didn't want anyone around who might smell Raksha-trace on me and overreact.

Maran, you're at it again.

To be honest, I wanted to be by myself to think things over. I had seen Lanen in the wild firelight. Truth to tell, my eyes had not left her. She had stood, her arms around Varien, all through the battle. If she'd been in pain, injured, tortured, she could not have done so. In fact she hardly let go her husband all through the battle, all through the aftermath—and he held her every bit as tight.

What did she need me for? What would she gain by seeing me? At this stage, surely I would only remind her of unhappiness. I could leave tomorrow, while the rest of them were busy making whatever plans were to be made. Just slip away, unnoticed. No one would miss me, least of all the daughter I'd never known.

Aye, Maran. You've been saying the same thing for the last twenty years, but you're here now. You've come the width of Kol-mar to get here and got the blisters to prove it. Goddess, you're a coward.

I shuddered. Truth is awful. I am a coward. That night, at that moment, I could no more walk up to my daughter and greet her than flap my arms and fly.

Weariness saved me, in the end. I was too damned tired to wake early and leave. As I laid my head on the pillow, my last coherent thought was, Perhaps it will look different in the morning. Goddess be my aid, let it look different in the morning.

VRikard turned to me in amazement when Vilkas and Aral set to work. "Sweet Lady Shia! I'd no idea we could heal those creatures!"

"I'm not sure anyone else could," I said. I was well impressed. "I know young Vilkas is capable of astounding work with people, but this ..."

"Do you have any food for them?" asked Rikard suddenly. "Healing a human is hard enough on the body. They're going to be starving."

"Hells. No," I said. I'd forgotten that Healers need food and drink and a great deal of rest after working. As do their patients.

"I'll arrange something, for all of them," said Rikard. He turned to go, then paused and turned back. "Ah—do you know what— er—dragons eat?'

I blinked. "I haven't the faintest notion. Cattle, perhaps?" I considered the creatures' teeth. "You'd think they'd need a great deal of whatever it is. Fresh meat surely never hurt anything with teeth like that."

Rikard went off muttering, but in the end he was saved the effort. Rella had more sense than the rest of us. She had held back during the fight—or at least, I hadn't seen her—but she appeared now, leading a cow with a rope, while Rikard was still trying to gather those students who were capable of movement. Behind her came Hygel, bearing bread and ale and a promise of beds, or at least a roof and a blanket, for those who required them.

Rikard very kindly obliged by looking after the rest of us— Lanens infected demon wounds, my aching jaw and demon scratches. As for the others, when the last scale was restored, when they at last released their combined power, Vilkas and Aral drew a deep breath, drank each a full pint of ale without pause, and proceeded to eat enough for four men between them, along with another pint each. When at last they were replete, Rella, Will, and I helped them stagger after Rikard and the meagre remnants of the College of Mages towards The Brewer's Arms. They just about managed to stay awake long enough to fall into their beds. Rella and I left them there.

Shikrar and the one I learned was his son spoke at length, Ke-dra having a good long look at his father's now-healed wound. He did not linger once his father started to eat, but took off again, flying northward. Shikrar finished eating, gave a great sigh, laid his head on his forearms there in the courtyard of the ruined College, bade us good night, and slept.

Varien and Lanen were nowhere to be seen.

I was weary as well, but my heart and head churned too much to allow for sleep just then. I had started pacing and thinking when I heard a small sigh. Lifting my head, I found Rella leaning against the wreck of a wall, watching me. Her face had a glow about it that at first I put down to being too near the remains of the fire; then I blinked and realised that it was the first hint of morning.

The opening of another day, this one more full of hope than I had dared trust to since that terrible morning Lanen was stolen away. She was safe now—I had found her and got her out of that ghastly place—though truth to tell, I wanted very much to know what in all the Hells that was that happened when she yelled at Berys. I think that was the first time it truly struck me that we might not have found her in time. That she might have died at Berys s hands before we could reach her. I hadn't let myself even consider that before, not for a moment.

Rella came up to me and silently put her hands on my shoulders. I closed my eyes and clasped her to me with all my strength, like a drowning man clutching at his last hope of air. "Goddess, Rella," I choked, my lips against her hair, my voice fighting its way past a throat closing, stupidly, at the thought of what might have been.

"Not yet, heart, but I'm working on it," she said lightly.

"Rella, she could have died. What if he had murdered her, eh? What if I had been too late? It was near as a toucher, my girl," I said, starting to tremble. "Berys had us. He had me, Rella, and I couldn't do a damn thing."

Her arms tightened around me, strong but gentle. "I know, heart. I know."

"This is stupid!" I cried, evoking a whiffle from the sleeping Shikrar. "She is safe now, we are all still alive, all is well—"

"Jamie—"

"Goddess, Rella," I said, my voice barely a whisper, "I nearly lost her!"

I wept then, at last, bitterly, loosing the tears that I had locked away to make my anger serve me. Rella held me until the storm passed, then stood a little back and smoothed my hair from my eyes. "What happened?" she asked.

I told her and found that the telling eased my heart. Rella's staunch sense steadied me, kept me to the point, until I came to the last of the tale. When I told her of Lanen's outburst—"And I swear, Rella, she glowed like a fire for a moment there"—and what it had done to Berys, though, Rella drew in a sharp breath and made me go over everything in great detail.

"You have no idea what she said?" she asked, her eyes piercing.

"I've told you, I didn't even recognise the language."

And once again, Rella astounded me.

"Did it sound like this?" she asked, and proceeded to say the same thing Lanen had come out with, as best I could tell. This time, though, there was no pulse of light, no shattering of something I couldn't see, no yelling demon-master. Thank the Lady.