We found out later that we made quite a vision, Aral and Lori-akeris and I. The evening star, turned blue and come to rest.

Idai's physical wounds were healed in minutes. Even I was astonished. It would take time, of course, for the new tissue to strengthen its bonds with the old, but she was healed.

"Don't get in any more fights for a few days, will you, Lady?" I said, and was rewarded by a blessedly warm hiss.

We went to treat Kedra next, but he refused. "There are others who need you more," he said.

"Take us to the worst," I replied. I kept hold of Aral's hand as we were borne through the air, in token of friendship, of apology. Of trust. We might never be able to rebuild that which had been, that first absolute trust, but there again, perhaps the new friendship would be based rather more strongly on truth.

We worked through the night. At first we were borne by Kedra or Idai to the worst injured, and we worked by the light of bonfires hastily provided by our escorts. Despite our best efforts another three of the Restored died, and another of the Kantri, but we saved ten who had been on the brink. We ate what we could in between.

When those in danger of imminent death had been seen to, when we were near dropping with hunger and weariness, Kedra whisked us away to a level field on the northwest shore of Lake Gand. Some blessedly practical soul had built a rough shelter, no more than a lean-to of branches but better than nothing, with a fire before it and a little more substantial food and drink laid out for us—fresh bread and butter, a gorgeous collop of venison stewed in wine, with cheese and dried fruit after. And some blessed soul had thought to send along both chelan and sweet water to wash it down. We fell on it as though we hadn't eaten in a hundred years.

Just as we were drinking the last of the chelan, Lanen stepped into the firelight and went down on one knee before us. "How fare you both?" she asked. Her voice was calm, but her eyes were filled with concern.

"I think we'll live, Mistress Lanen, thank you," said Aral. "Bless you for the food."

"Have you strength now to continue, or do you require rest?" she asked.

So that was it. She was afraid we had stopped for the night.

I rose on weary legs and clapped her on the shoulder. "Fear not, Lady. We have supped and drunk." I looked to Aral. "Can you go on?"

She stood slowly, brushing off crumbs, saying, "I could sleep for a week, to tell the truth, but not until we're finished." She smiled. "Come then, Lanen, call Idai and take us to the next."

To my surprise, Lanen rose and grinned. "We are better organised than that." She raised her chin and called out, "Now!"

In the instant the nighttime landscape changed. We beheld a field ringed with bonfires, set alight by the Kantri we had healed, who then wandered around the circle lighting yet more. At last we could see what we were doing, and I wasn't going to complain about the warmth either. Our next patient lay wearily in the fire-fight, Jamie beside it.

"Who has done this?" I asked, all astonishment, as we reached the bright centre of the field.

Jamie grinned. "It was Bella's idea. You're not the only ones who've been busy, you know. Lanen has even had the Kantri working away, bringing enough wood and ferrying her back and forth from the castle."

"The castle?" said Aral in wonder. Then her expression changed. "Bloody hellsfire! That's where the food came from!"

Jamie's grin grew wider. "Indeed. Seems there's a woman there who knew Marik as a child and can see the resemblance in bis daughter." He laughed. "Of course, the fact that she arrived in the courtyard in the hands of a bloody great dragon almost certainly helped her case along."

We treated one after another, barely stopping save to admit the next to the circle of fire. Lanen stayed with us to translate, for many of the Kantri had no human speech. The Dhrenagan, to my astonishment, spoke more fluently even than had Shikrar, though their speech was terribly archaic;—I learned later that in their day, Gedri and Kantri lived together in peace. It struck me that their experience in this might be desperately needed soon.

Shadowy figures kept the bonfires burning bright, and Will and Maran, Rella and Jamie, kept us supplied with food and drink. Towards the end of the night, when we could no longer stand, they watched over us as we rested for the half of an hour here, a few minutes there.

I had thought, at the height of my glorious madness, that my power was infinite. Now I began to learn the merely human limits that surrounded it. As dawn grew pale in the east, Aral and I were finally forced to stop. Our joined Healers strength was hardly diminished, which was astounding, but we were entirely exhausted. We saw the last of the dragons whose wounds might kill them and finally called a halt. I sank to my knees and was prepared to sleep on the bare ground, but Maran lifted me in her powerful arms as though I were a child and carried me to our lean-to. I had no strength to protest. Goddess, but that woman is impressive!

There were two piles of heather, covered with blankets, and a feather pillow each. I realised this when I woke, you understand. I was asleep the instant Maran set me down.

I think Will carried Aral.

I woke in the late afternoon, groggy and confused. It took me a moment to remember what and where this room was.

The guest chamber at Castle Gundar.

My father's people had taken us in the night before, given us ample food for ourselves and the Healers, and when we returned at dawn they led us each to decent rooms and let us sleep. I don't recall whether Mistress Kiri really believed that I was Marik's daughter at that point or not, but she was kindness itself. Given the near presence of the True Dragons of legend, and the fact that Akor spoke to the lady in so courtly a fashion, I suppose her generosity was not surprising.

We had all danced attendance on the Mages until daybreak. I was still weary beyond belief, but I forced myself out of bed. I wandered down to where I thought the kitchens must be and found a maidservant who pointed me to the bathing chamber, O blessed civilisation! A long deep bath stood there, and two young lasses helped me fill it with steaming water and provided soap and drying cloths. I nearly wept when I lowered myself into clean water for the first time in what felt like years. My hair was shocking and my clothes were worse, and it was only when I had scrubbed off the grime that I realised just how filthy I had been. I went to scrub my clothing in the bathwater, but the little maidservant took away my horrible shirt, tunic, and trews and brought me a long gown. It was a good handspan too short, but there was enough room in the shoulders. The maid assured me that my own garments would be ready for me by morning.

Clean and warm at last, I followed my nose and found Jamie wandering about not far ahead of me. I hailed him, and he led me confidently towards the Great Hall.

"How fare you this morning?" I asked, yawning.

Jamie laughed. Goddess, it was good to see him laugh again. "It lacks but an hour of sunset, my girl. Morning, indeed!" He yawned along with me. "I am well, Lanen. Exhausted, but well. Nothing that another day or so in a real bed won't cure." He stopped in the corridor and faced me. "And before we meet the rest of them— how are you?'

"I am well enough," I replied solemnry. I didn't bother to tell him that I had wakened weeping. We were none of us un-wounded. "And all three of us will be considerably better once I get some food inside me!"

The Great Hall boasted a long oaken table and individual chairs rather than benches. The table was well laden with food, though by the look of things it had groaned even louder before. Maran and Rella sat at one end, talking at speed. Jamie joined them, and I could only admire Rellas restraint. She sat back, for the most part, and let Maran and Jamie catch up on the last twenty-odd years. I caught her eye, and was satisfied with the calm smile and the nod she sent my way. All was well with her, then, too.