Epiny sighed. “No. I don’t think the forest or the magic will allow any of us to escape. It wants the impossible. It wants to reverse the flow of the years; it wants to go back to when Gernians came here only to trade for furs and then to leave. It won’t happen. It can’t happen. And as long as the magic demands that, there will never be a resolution. Not for any of us.”

I looked from Epiny’s bowed head to the sweat drops rolling slowly down my own face and then up at Lisana. Epiny was right. As the thought came to me, I felt as if my existence wavered. The magic was weakening. Lisana was weary and there was little magic left in my own body for me to draw on.

“Epiny! I’m fading. I’m sorry. I did what I thought was wise, but it helped no one. Not even me. Farewell. I loved all of you the best that I could. Get away if you can. Get all of you away.”

Suddenly I was in my body, looking up at Epiny. I think she saw me in Soldier’s Boy’s eyes, because she said softly, “You stopped him from killing me. Remember that you could do that. Believe you’ll eventually find that strength again, that you’ll master him again. Until then, I’m sorry, Nevare. I’m sure you’d do the same thing in my place. And you know, you really deserve this.”

She lifted the hatchet from my throat, but before I could stir, she reversed her grip on it. The blunt end of it hit me squarely between the eyes, and I knew nothing more.

When I became aware again, Epiny was gone. I didn’t immediately realize that. With Soldier’s Boy, I felt woozy and disoriented and unable to focus my eyes. My gut heaved with nausea. Being struck on the head hard enough to cause unconsciousness is never a joke, and my body had endured two such assaults in rapid succession. I could barely breathe past the thickness in my mouth, and I could not stir my limbs. I felt Soldier’s Boy’s frustration as he used yet more of his rapidly dwindling magic to speed the body’s healing. Even so, we lay motionless and queasy for a good hour before he felt well enough to sit up.

That was when he discovered that Epiny had taken a few precautions before she left. The leather strap of her bag was tied securely in my mouth as a gag, and strips torn from the draggled hem of her dress were knotted about my wrists and ankles. Soldier’s Boy rolled onto his side and began working against his bonds. Tree Woman spoke to me as he did so.

“Your cousin is more resourceful than I thought. Truly, she would have made a better servant to the magic.”

Little as I wanted to serve the magic, the comparison still stung. “Maybe if my self hadn’t been divided, I would have been a better tool for the magic. Or a better soldier.”

“That’s likely,” she admitted easily. Soldier’s Boy didn’t hear her. He wasn’t looking at her tree stump, so I couldn’t see her. But I could imagine her gentle, rueful smile. I hated what she had done to me. I hated how the magic had twisted my life away from my boyish dreams of a glorious career of a cavalla officer, of a gentle well-bred wife and a home of my own. I’d forfeited it all when I’d battled Lisana and lost. She had been the engineer of my downfall. Yet I still felt tenderness toward Lisana, my Tree Woman. It was no longer based entirely on Soldier’s Boy’s love for her. I sensed in her a kindred spirit, someone who had come unwilling to the magic’s service but, like me, saw a need for it.

“So. What will happen now?”

She sighed, light as wind in the leaves. “Eventually, Olikea or Likari will come back and help you. Or you’ll wriggle free on your own. And then you must eat heartily, and quick-walk to join the People at the Wintering Place.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I meant, what will become of Epiny and Spink? What will happen to them?”

She sighed again. “Let go of that life, Nevare. Embrace the one you are in now. Join the sundered halves of your soul and become one.”

That hadn’t been what I was asking her. “Will you try to harm Epiny?” I asked her directly.

“Hmf. Did she try to harm me? A few more minutes of that fire, and we would not be having this conversation now. I’ve told you before, I cannot control the magic or what it does.” A pause. Then her voice was gentler. “But for whatever peace it gives you, I’ll tell you that I will not be attempting any revenge on her.” She made an odd sound that might almost have been a laugh. “The less I have to do with your cousin, the better for both of us, I think.”

“Thank you.”

Olikea did not come to find me. Jodoli did, stumping up the ridge with a scolding Firada in his wake. He, too, had heard the summons of the whispering leaves, but he had been farther away and Firada had not wanted him to quick-walk them to Lisana, thinking it better that Soldier’s Boy handle whatever the difficulty was with the Gernian madwoman on his own. Firada was not pleased with Jodoli consuming energy to rescue me yet again. She grumbled about it the whole time that he was untying me.

“What happened here?” Jodoli asked as soon as the gag was removed from my mouth.

“Nevare’s cousin Epiny attacked Lisana. But do not concern yourself with it. The threat has been dealt with. I’m sorry that I used more of your time.”

“You call this dealing with a threat?” Firada asked tartly. “We find you bound and gagged, and your feeders nowhere in sight!”

“I sent them away, to keep them safe. It is dealt with. Let it go.”

He spoke in a commanding way that I expected her to find offensive. Instead she just puffed her cheeks and then settled in abrupt silence. Soldier’s Boy turned to Jodoli. His face was equally disapproving, but I suspected that some sign from him had quieted Firada.

“Jodoli, I thank you for coming yet again to my aid. Please, do not delay your journey to rejoin the People any longer. I will need another day here to gather strength before I am able to do any magic. But do not linger here on my account.”

“We have no intention of doing so,” Firada responded quickly.

Jodoli’s words were more measured. “Indeed, we must depart tonight. But I wanted to let you know that I went to look at what you did to the intruders’ road. I think you bought us a season of respite, and perhaps more. It is not a permanent solution. Nonetheless, I do not think you used your magic in vain. Firada is correct that I must rejoin our kin-clan tonight; they are unprotected when I am not with them. I hope you will hurry to rejoin us as quickly as you can.” He glanced about, his eyes lingering on Tree Woman’s scorched trunk.

Soldier’s Boy got slowly to his feet. His head still pounded with pain, and hunger squeezed him again. All the magic he’d acquired, he’d used in healing the worst of his injury. He sighed. “I go to regain my feeders. We will see you soon, at the Wintering Place. Travel well.”

“At the Wintering Place,” Jodoli confirmed. He reached out and took Firada’s hand. They walked away. I did not “see” the quick-walk magic, but in less than two blinks of my eye, they had vanished from my sight. When they were gone, Soldier’s Boy turned back to Lisana’s stump.

He walked over to it, knelt in the deep moss, and gravely examined the damage. There was not much; the fire had licked the outer bark, scorching it but had not penetrated it. He nodded, satisfied. He gripped the hilt of the rusty cavalla sword that was still thrust deep into the stump. Heedless of the unpleasant buzzing that the proximity of the metal blade woke in his hands, he tried to work it loose. To no avail. A nasty recognition stirred in my own thoughts. As a mage, I’d now experienced how unpleasant the touch of iron felt. Yet Lisana had never once reproached me for the blade I’d felled her with and then left sticking in her trunk. I felt shamed.

But Soldier’s Boy continued unaware of my thoughts or feelings. He pushed through growing underbrush to reach the young tree that reared up from Lisana’s fallen trunk. He set his hands to its smooth bark and leaned his head back to smile up at its branches. “We must thank our luck that she did not know this is where you are truly most vulnerable. This little one would not have survived such a scorching as your trunk took. Look how she seeks the sun. Look how straight she stands.” He leaned forward, to rest his brow briefly against the young tree’s bark. “I really, really miss your guidance,” he said softly.