Maran was wrong. Forgiveness was not enough.

I could not think how to answer him for a moment, when the words of our marriage vows rose up in my mind. I take you as my husband and my mate for as long as life endures. Well, life still endured in us both. He had not broken faith with me. He was changed, it is true—and, Lanen, what if he had been merely human, and returned from some terrible battle alive but unable to move without help? Would you leave him then? Abandon him to his fate because he could not hold your children?

Goddess, I cannot bear this! I cried silently. I looked away, closed my eyes to shut out the vision of him just for a moment, and at last paid attention to what else was happening around about me.

The earth trembled yet, resonating to the glory of the music of the Kantri. The great Mother Shia who bore us upon all Her broad back was shaken with wonder. Glancing below the lip of the hill, I saw the Laughing Girl of the Waters whispering up to us in a mist, rising from the lake into the twilight. I glanced behind me—and yes, there, just rising over the mountains, rode the Crone, the full moon in ail her glory. The first rays of her loving light bathed us both in brilliance and struck gleams from Akor's soulgem. The Goddess in all Her aspects breathed in me, I was filled with Her presence, and I heard again—in my mind? in my soul? in my memory?—the words I had heard when Akor and I sought to understand why we had been so drawn to one another against all reason.

Daughter, have no fear. Let not this strangeness concern you. All will be well. All will be well. Follow your heart and all will be well.

No word of "he will be changed." No word of "you will know his love for only six moons, then be parted forever." No. All will be well.

All will be well.

Akor spoke again, his own eyes closed, his voice now soft with grief. "Lanen?"

I reached out to him, the same gesture I had used half a life and six moons ago, and touched his warm faceplate. His eyes flew open, wild with hope, and I swear I could hear his heart beating as though he had run a race. "The Winds and the Lady aid me, Akor. I am lost as you are lost," I said. The words, too, were an echo, and to my astonishment a tiny smile touched my lips. "We might as well be lost together, eh, my love?"

I stroked the smooth bone below his soulgem. "Damn and blast them all, my love. We're caught in this together. Shia forbid I should leave you now, when things are darkest." I stretched up and embraced as much of his neck, at the thin point behind the faceplate, as I could manage.

With that touch he opened his mind to me, unleashed a great flood. I could hear his thoughts as though a multitude spoke, a thousand voices at once, a thousand thoughts but each of them barely audible, as though he were shouting through a stone wall.

Lansen, I never meant this I my heart is broken even as yours I I feel your heart in my own breast its beating is all that keeps me on live I beloved, those who sought our death are defeated beyond recall I the Black Dragon is dust and ashes and the Kantri still live/ Shikrar, Shikrar, soulfriend, my life is changed forever with your passing, sleep on the Winds, O friend of my heart/ beloved, for all that has passed we yet live, our babes yet live/ our future will not be what we expected but at least we are both here to have a future/ was I not this shape when we first pledged ourselves to one another?/1 will never hold our babes O ye Winds, have pity, have mercy/ my heart breaks anew/ Lanen Kaelar, Lanen, kadreshi, can you bear it? Can I bear it? By every Wind that ever blew, how in all the world are we to survive this parting? I for all that is, for all that will be, you are my love.

At that last, he drew back and fought for control of his voice. It took him a moment, for which I was deeply grateful, as I fought for speech as well.

"Lanen," he said, his voice far deeper than it had ever been, "Lanen, how shall we bear it?"

"One day at a time, kadreshi," I replied. Perhaps it was the Lady, perhaps I had touched again that strength of fire I had found when I believed I faced death in my cell in Verfaren. "If necessary, one breath at a time. It will not be easy, but—one breath at a time, I can do this thing."

He raised one great hand and wrapped it around my shoulders, as gently as he could manage. "One breath at a time, then. It is well." And then the great idiot added, "At the least, you know that I am not changed towards you."

Damned dragon. How could he say that with a straight face?

I felt one corner of my mouth turn up, then the other, then I snorted, and then I let loose with a great laugh, right from my toes. I felt his shock at my reaction, felt him hear the wild inanity of his own words, and watched as a column of flame shot into the darkening sky. A dragon's belly laugh. Goddess help us all.

By the time I finally wiped my eyes and he had regained some measure of composure, the worst of our souls' darkness had passed, at least for that time. I grinned at him. "Well, we did promise each other the spiky truth, didn't we?" I said. "Damn it, Akor, I didn't mean it literally!"

He hissed his gende amusement, but was soon solemn again. He gazed into my eyes, far calmer now, thank the Lady. "I bless you for your loyalty, kadreshi. One breath at a time it is." He sighed. "Name of the Winds, Lanen Kaelar. What have we done that we must ever be faced with such ungentle choices?"

"Shia alone knows, and she's not telling," I said, sighing. "True enough, we have neither of us chosen the easy path in this life."

He cocked his head at an angle. 'There is an easy path?' he asked.

"So I hear," I replied dryly. "I hope for their sakes our childer are blessed with better fortune. Or possibly better sense."

He hissed a little. "Hear us, ye Winds, and protect our babes from our ill fortuner

"I hope they're listening," I said, my voice trembling. I was starting to shiver, for now the sun was down it was growing cold. Away on the far side of the hill a small fire began to gleam. "I'm getting bloody cold, Akor," I added. "And I'm tired and hungry and I could drink that lake dry, I think."

He hissed. "Some things have not changed. It is well. Shall we go to join the others? I believe many of our companions have moved down to the shore."

"Not all of us," said a voice, and my mother Maran came to join us in the moonlight. "There's a fire closer than that."

"Have you been here the whole time?" I asked, suddenly angry, afraid that she had overheard all we said.

"Not near enough to hear anything, Daughter," she said, "so you can save your anger for those who need it. Though I'm glad you're up to anger," she said wryly. "It's an improvement."

She turned to Akor, as if to learn how he fared. He raised up his head enough to look down at her.

"Lady Maran, I seem to recall—did you threaten me just now?" he asked.

I didn't think Maran would hear the slight teasing note under his scold, but she did.

"Don't be absurd," she said, her smile gleaming in the moonlight. "I may be daft, but I'm not stupid enough to threaten anyone whose head is larger than I am."

"Of course not. How foolish of me," he replied.

"And if I ever do it again, you'd best listen," she muttered, shrugging her pack from her back.

"Listen to what?" asked Akor innocently.

"Good lad," she said, pulling out a familiar cloth-covered shape. "I do have one request to make of you, if you have a moment."

"Of course, Lady," he replied with a little bow.

I couldn't resist. "Goddess, you're stuffy now you're back in that shape," I said out of the corner of my mouth, pleased and surprised to find that I had yet some remnant of humour within me.

"Silence, Gedri. You will show the proper respect for the Lord of the Kantri," he teased, mock-solemn, until Maran unwrapped the Farseer. "What would you of me, Lady?" he asked cautiously. "I wish to have as little to do with that globe as possible."