"I couldn't agree more," she said, holding it out. "It's a kindness, really. I thought I'd give you the honour of doing what I've longed to do for years." She smiled. "Destroy this for me, will you, my son?"

Akor took the Farseer, which looked absurdly small in his great claws, and tried to crush it. I thought it would instantly be powder, but it was too small.

He looked about at the green sward on which we stood and handed the globe back to her. "Come," he said, and flowed over to a large outcropping of rock. He moved astoundingly fast for something so huge.

We followed. Maran handed the Farseer to him once again and we stood back. He drew himself to his proper height, lifted his arm high, and brought the demon-haunted thing down with all his strength against the native stone of the mountains. It shattered with a splintering crash.

Maran gave a great sigh, as of one who has toiled long and hard come at last to rest, and fell senseless to the ground.

I'd seen it coming for more than a year now, but that didn't make it any easier when it came. Aral clung to me like a drowning man clings to anything that will keep him ahve without noticing what it is. I held her close, I breathed in the sheer perfume of her like a guilty pleasure, and let my shirt and then my skin grow damp from her tears as she sobbed.

I was growing angrier by the minute. Good thing Vilkas had made himself scarce. I'd have felled him for a tin ferthing and let you keep the fee, no matter what he did to me after.

Rella waited until Aral had settled down to plain crying, then she brought over a waterskin and some bandages and ointment and sat down with Aral and managed to get her to take a drink. I wandered about and found just about enough sticks to get a fire going, though my hands shook a little with the flint and tinder. The little fire wouldn't last long, but it was better than nothing. I took the waterskin off of Bella and drank deep. That water was purest nectar.

With a sigh, I sat down with Rella's little pot of ointment and a few bandages. I'd barely begun when Aral croaked, "Here, Will, let me help." The poor soul, her eyes swollen with crying, her nose bright red, still managed to call up her power and clean the worst of the cuts for me and speed their healing. She soon realised that Rella was in worse case than I and insisted on treating her as well. When Rella was patched up, Aral went along to Jamie and did the same. Then she looked around.

"Where's Maran?" she asked.

Jamie and Rella looked around as though they expected her to appear from the darkness.

As it happens, she did. After a fashion. Akor joined us, Lanen at his side, Maran draped gently across his neck, unconscious. He lowered his head and I helped Lanen lower her mother carefully to the ground in front of the fire.

"What's wrong with her?" asked Lanen. I was strangely glad to hear normal concern in her voice. Goddess knew they had a long way to go, these two, but at least they'd made some kind of start. With all she had been through, Lanen still found it in her heart to be worried about this mother she barely knew. She is a great soul, Lanen.

Drawing my power to me, I gazed swiftly at Maran's limp body. Exhaustion, weariness of soul, demon claw, all of these were obvious, but there was something else, something I could not see properly. I treated the Raksha bites and gouges first, cleansing and healing. She breathed easier, but still she did not move.

It is so hard, with those who have withdrawn. Still, I owed it to her to try.

I drew in a deep breath and focussed my sight, traversing all the systems of the body in turn. Wait, what was—there—a faint shadow, elusive, moving, but there.

Normally I'd have asked Maran herself if I could go so deep, but she was not there to permit. I put one hand on either side of her face, my palms to her temples, and went within. The landscape of her mind rose round about me, where all is symbol made manifest.

I was in a dark place, but there was a large fire and the smell of hot metal—oh, of course. A smithy.

Maran, clad in thick leather shirt, trews, and apron, stood at the forge, shaping metal on the anvil. I watched as a Ladystar magically took shape under her hammer. When it was complete, she picked it up with a pair of tongs and thrust it into the water barrel, where it made the water boil. A great cloud of steam arose, shaping itself into a small smoky globe. She sighed, lifted it out, and thrust it back in, but the same thing happened. A smoky globe of steam above, the Ladystar glowing an angry red in boiling water, refusing to be quenched. "I was afraid of that. Too hot for water," she said, and calmly turning the tongs around, she pressed the hot iron into her flesh.

The shape of the Ladystar fell into her chest. It did not cause her pain of itself, but she began to thrash as it went deeper into her soul. "No, it's gone, I swear it's gone, I'll never use it more!" she cried. "I never used it for gain, never!"

Smoky globe. Of course. Staying deep, I spoke aloud. "What has become of the Farseer?"

"I destroyed it, as she bade me," said the voice of the dragon.

I saw it then, all clear before me. A demon artefact, used on and off for years by a good soul for what she perceived as good reasons, would yet forge an unseen bond with the user's soul. If we did not act swiftly, she would follow the damned thing into oblivion.

I withdrew from her mind, shaking myself, back in the real world. "Will, find more wood for the fire. Maybe Vari—maybe you could help him," I said, looking up at the dragon. The two of them hurried off down the slope, towards a nearby stand of trees.

"I'll go with them," said Jamie, but I stopped him.

"No. I need you to call to her," I said. "She is—the country folk would call it elfshot. Away with the fairies. In her case—she was connected to the Farseer, and when it was destroyed something in her gave up." They all three stood about, slack-jawed. "She's lost part of her soul with the Farseer, damn it," I yelled, resisting the urge to slap all of them. "More than anything right now, she needs to hear the voices of those who give a damn about her. Talk to her." I sank down, weary beyond belief. "Give her some reason to stay."

Rella spoke up first, taking Maran's hand. "You get back here, Maran Vena," she scolded, as only good friends can scold one another. "Don't tell me you'd come all this way and live through the battle just to give up now? Hells, woman, you're free of that damned Farseer at last! Would you leave iron half shaped after you had done all the work to draw it down?' To my astonishment, Rella lifted Maran's hand and lightly kissed it. I don't have so many friends I can afford to lose one, you stubborn blacksmith," she said. "Get back here."

"Maran," said Jamie. I could only admire him for managing to get any words at all past that lump in his throat. "Maran, I've so much to tell you yet. Don't go, heart's friend. Don't go before I can speak to you of our daughter s childhood."

Maran twitched a little, and a small moan escaped her hps.

"Oh, bugger it," said Lanen. She elbowed the other two aside, knelt beside her mother, lifted her under the shoulders, and clasped her mother's limp form to her heart. "I'm here, Maran," she said. "Thank Shia you've come to find me. I need you. I've always needed you, but more than ever now. I can't look after these babes all on my own, and Varien won't be able to help. Please, Maran. Stay to help me. Stay to know your grandchildren." Lanen sighed. "I know it's early days yet between us, but—please, Maran. Mother. Stay and let me learn to love you."

The soul can be healed as swiftly as the body. Sometimes. Maran rose to consciousness and tightened her arms about Lanen. Then, as if only then realising she no longer dreamed, she released her and sat up.