The bond was broken. Rathen screamed once and fell to the ground. The demon also screamed, frustrated to find defiance where it had expected nothing but ease, and disappeared in a gout of well-aimed Fire from Shikrar.

With the Sight upon me I saw the flame of Rathen's life reduced in that moment to a tiny spark, barely present, flaring its hopeless defiance against the endless darkness that surrounded it.

Still I let my strength flow into him, protecting that flame, encouraging it to life again ...

I was not expecting Aral's slap in the face. My concentration was broken abruptly and I shuddered at the sudden withdrawal from deep healing. She hit me again, and I realised that she had been shouting at me for some time. "Stop, Vilkas! Stop it, you'll kill yourself!"

I glanced down at Rathen. He was terrifyingly thin, but he breathed yet.

"Good, he's alive," I said, and fainted into Aral's arms.

"Fetch food and drink for them both," commanded Rikard sharply, and I saw several hurry to obey as I lowered my beloved Vilkas to the ground. It struck me in passing that I had never had him in my arms before and might never again. I desperately desired to hold him to me just a little longer—raining kisses on his face occurred to me as well—but I knew that he would recover best if his head was level with his heart. I banished my ill-timed longing. Vilkas was pale as death. I started trembling.

No, no, don't be stupid, he'll be fine, I stopped him in time. Just.

"That was well done, young Aral," said Magister Rikard as he knelt to help me make Vil comfortable. "He's always been a stubborn so-and-so. At least he had the good sense to listen to you."

"He's going to be furious with me when he wakes up," I said, trying to make my voice light. I'm not at all sure I managed it.

"Then he is an even greater fool than I thought," muttered Rikard, "and I shall be happy to tell him so if you so wish."

I grinned. "Thank you, Magister, but I'd rather deal with him on my own."

Vil, with his usual riming, managed to rouse just as the food arrived. Rathen we had to restrain from eating too much, lest he overburden his newly frail body, but Vilkas ate as though he hadn't seen a morsel in weeks and was all the better for it.

And as he began to recover from his work, I locked my heart away again, hidden, safe, unknown. I did not dare listen to its strident voice. I knew Vilkas too well, knew that he felt nothing of the sort for me; but I still could not give over my stupid longing, hoping—dreaming—that perhaps, one day, he might recognise his folly.

Magister Rikard stood, brushed down his robes, and addressed the crowd. "They will both live, though Healer Rathen will take some time to recover." He frowned at those nearest him. "I trust that this has brought you all to your senses. Blaming the dragons, forsooth! They are creatures of Order. Our oldest wisdom preserves that at least."

"But, Magister," said Tolmas the stonemason, stepping forward, "what now?" He gestured to take in all the ruin of the College. "What are we to do? The town has always looked to the Archimage for guidance."

"I will meet with any who wish to look to the future in an hour's time, Tolmas," said Rikard firmly. "Until then, let each help as they may." He sighed. "There is surely enough for us all to do."

I have to say, if I had tried to stage that revelation I couldn't have pulled it off nearly so well. In the general milling about I hauled Hygel off to a quiet corner and told him rapidly what I suspected about all the House of Gundar Healers. "Get the word out fast. I don't know how to fight them, so best to tell everyone to keep out of their way."

"And what are you going to be doing, hey?" he asked.

I allowed myself the faintest smile. "Ah, now. Privilege of rank, you see. I'm going with this crowd to get Berys."

"You cheat. I've always said so," he said cheerfully. "I live a stone's throw from that rat bastard for six years and you get to take him. It's not fair."

"Never mind," I said. 'There's every chance we'll end up as demon fodder. If that happens, I'm counting on you."

Hygel snorted. "Ha! With yon bloody great beastie on your side?" He gestured at Shikrar, who was even then taking to the air on some errand. "Even Berys can't stand against that, surely!"

"I truly hope not," I said. "Spread the word, my friend. I think you'll have your hands full here as it is."

"Go where you will, Shikrar, go even with my blessing, but go. I am weary beyond measure," moaned Rinshir. I sighed. The petulance in his voice was annoying me. "Has the world not changed sufficiently for you? We all need rest before we undertake another such journey."

"I do not demand your presence particularly, Rinshir," I replied as calmly as I could. "Only a few are needed—the rest may surely remain and recover their strength."

Those around him had the good grace to be embarrassed at Rinshir's whinging. I saw several looking at my newly healed wound. No matter, the scales would darken with time.

"I do not ask you to cross the Great Sea again," I added loudly, addressing the Kantri. The Dhrenagan listened, but I would no more ask such a thing of them than ask my grandson Sherok to fly to the bright fields of the sun. They had so much to encompass— so much time passed, so much life lost, the world so changed—I would not dream of challenging them further by asking them to assist the Gedri. "True, there is no way of knowing how far there is to fly, for we have only the Gedri's knowledge of the distance. We go east, towards the far mountains." Still there was silence. "I need only two more to assist me," I repeated, "as the Lady Idai has offered to come for the adventure."

"Can it not wait, Teacher Shikrar?" asked Trizhe wearily. I knew him for a good soul, but I could tell that he was genuinely exhausted. He could barely lift his head off the ground to speak. "Give us but a fortnight and you will have us all at your service."

"We leave in a bare hour, Trizhe my friend," I said. "But I would not take you even if you offered. You have nothing left to give beyond your goodwill."

"Then let me help you," said a quiet voice. It was Dhretan, the youngest of us, aside from my son's son Sherok who had not yet seen six moons. His willingness touched me but there was scant time for tact.

"Dhretan, I thank you from my heart, but I fear you could not keep pace with us, especially burdened," I said as kindly as I could. However, his was the last voice that spoke. I sighed. So much for volunteers. "Gyrentikh?" I called softly in truespeech, bespeaking him only.

"I was hoping you wouldn't think of me," he said wryly, aloud. "I wouldn't mind being lazy, and I swear I could sleep a full moon round; but yes, Hadreshikrar, I will come with you," he said. 'Were it not for you I might never have wakened from my last Weh sleep when the Isle of Exile was dying." Despite his words, he did not look or sound as worn-out as many of the others. "In any case, I do not believe the Gedri will be much of a burden," he added with an amused hiss. "They are too small."

"Two of them together are perhaps a quarter the weight of a bullock," I said, keeping my voice light. "There are few of us who could not manage so little weight without effort, even over a long journey."

"Father, let me come with you," said Kedra again. "I am rested enough, I am strong—"

"And you will be the Keeper of Souls when I go to the Winds, my son. Our people cannot do without you. I cannot do without you. Stay here and be for me the voice of Reason with our people, and with the Dhrenagan," I replied to him alone. Aloud I said only, "No, Kedra. You must stay and look after your young son. He has much to learn and he needs his father."