“And that means that the magic was not summoning you to the dance, but only inviting you. And so you could say no. But Likari was summoned. He went because he had to, and so he wanted to go, because once the dance had touched him, he could think of nothing else. Don’t you think that others have tried to keep those they loved from the dance? They have run after them, and carried them back and tied them. It did no good. Still they danced, and they heard nothing from their lovers or their children, and they saw nothing and they would not eat and they would not sleep until they were released to go to the dance.”

Tears had started fresh down her cheeks before she was halfway through her speech. They continued to run as she spoke, and her voice hoarsened. On her last words, her throat choked her to stillness. She stood, silent and empty. Even the tears slowed and then ceased, as if nothing were left inside her.

“I will go to Kinrove and tell him he must release Likari to me.”

“I thought you might feel that way.”

Soldier’s Boy knew who was there before he turned. He had felt the unpleasant tingle of iron against my senses. I knew an iron bearer must be somewhere close, perhaps just outside Lisana’s lodge. Dasie stood in the doorway, a dour look on her face. Yet just for an instant, I thought I glimpsed a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. Rage rose in Soldier’s Boy, and again he forced it down. He tried for a reasonable tone. “I did not expect that Kinrove would call my feeders with his summoning.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I, too, am surprised at that. But perhaps we should not be. You have not given him many reasons to love you. Perhaps he considered it a sort of justice, to take from you what you had not expected to lose in this gamble.”

“Gamble?”

“Our war against the intruders.” She came into the lodge and advanced to my chair by the hearth. With a grunt of satisfaction, she ensconced herself, uninvited. Her feeders remained standing at the door. Outside, her iron bearer waited. Had she expected Soldier’s Boy to be angry enough that she needed a guard?

“I want the boy back.” Soldier’s Boy spoke bluntly.

Dasie laughed. It wasn’t a cruel laugh; rather, it was the laugh of someone who sees a child finally realize the consequences of his own foolishness. “Don’t you think we all wanted those we loved back? Well, at least you have the power to get him back.”

“You mean, if I go to Kinrove, he’ll give him up?”

“Oh, I very much doubt that.” She motioned irritably at my feeders, and, with the exception of Olikea, it was as if they wakened from a spell. They sprang into motion, adding wood to the fire and beginning the preparation of food. She settled more comfortably in my chair. “As I said, you’ve given him no reason to love you. Perhaps taking something you cared about from you brought him a special satisfaction. I think perhaps you know that he has no children. Seeing you enjoy that young boy as if he were your own—well. Perhaps he thought you deserved to feel the same lack that he does.”

“You knew he would call Likari.”

She cocked her head at me. “I suspected he would try. I had no idea if the boy would be vulnerable or not.”

“You chose not to warn me.” Soldier’s Boy stated it flatly and waited for her response.

“That is correct.” My feeders brought her a platter of food. She looked it over consideringly and picked up a slice of smoked fish. A similar platter was conveyed to me. Soldier’s Boy ignored it, awaiting her response. It finally came, after she had licked her fingers.

“I thought perhaps you should have a higher stake in stopping the dance. And in driving the intruders from our territory.”

“You don’t trust me,” Soldier’s Boy said bluntly. “Likari is a hostage. If I don’t do as you say, you’ll see that he dies.”

She ate another slice of the fish with evident relish. “Now there’s a Jhernian concept. A hostage. Yes, you could see it that way. But it isn’t that you must do what I say. Only that you must succeed in doing what you said you’d do. What you have always been meant to do. If you succeed in driving the intruders away, Kinrove’s dance will no longer be needed. The boy will come back to you. But if you do not—” She picked at the fish, and then took a handful of nuts instead. She seemed to feel no need to finish her sentence.

It had been a hard morning. Soldier’s Boy was hungry and the food at my elbow smelled wonderful. He hated that he could even think of eating at a moment like this, and yet my body clamored at him relentlessly. He refused to look at the platter but could not stop smelling the tempting aromas. The magic nagged to be fed. Soldier’s Boy saw Dasie’s gaze move from my face to the platter and back again. She knew. She knew how he resisted the food and it amused her.

This time, when Soldier’s Boy’s wrath rose, he did not contain it. “Leave,” he commanded her. “Leave now.” A sudden cold wind whirled past the lodge and swept in through the open door.

Dasie looked startled. One of the feeders gave a low cry of fear. I felt the sudden depletion of magic from my body but Soldier’s Boy appeared not to care. The wind grew stronger, colder.

Anger and fear mingled in Dasie’s face. Great Ones did not usually threaten one another with magic so openly. “I have my iron bearer!” she warned him.

“Yes,” he agreed. “You do. And who is thinking like a Gernian now, Dasie?” The sweep of wind came inside the lodge, tugging at her garments. “Leave now!” he told her again. The feeders had retreated to the back of the lodge. Dasie’s attendants glanced about uncomfortably. Her iron bearer entered abruptly, carrying his sword as if it were a gun. It was obvious that he judged its power to be in its touch rather than its edge. He advanced on me, his face grim with determination. Soldier’s Boy set his teeth and spent more magic. Despite the iron, the wind still blew, but it cost him dearly.

“We will leave!” Dasie declared abruptly. “I have no reason to remain here.” She rose with a grunt and strode toward the door. Her iron bearer moved hastily out of her path, putting a safe distance between his weapon and his Great One. Dasie swept out of Lisana’s lodge and her feeders flowed after her. The wind seemed to follow her, pushing her along. After she was gone, one of my feeders scuttled to the threshold and closed the door behind her. We were plunged into dimness and silence. It felt breathless.

For a moment, the food still beckoned. Angrily he refused to heed it. How could the magic be so selfish? His heart had a hole torn in it. Likari was gone. Olikea was, I realized, in a state similar to battle shock. Walking wounded, I thought. She gave the appearance of functioning, but was not.

With an almost physical wrench, I felt Soldier’s Boy wrest my attention to him. “I want to think like a Gernian right now.” His thought to me was harsh. “Make me see clearly. What must I do right now?”

I didn’t need to pause to think. The training of years slid into place like a bolt sliding home in its socket. I hastily rummaged his memories of the last few weeks, orienting myself to his situation. Grudgingly, he allowed this. I was a bit surprised to find that, as a military man, I approved of most of what he had done. As a Gernian, it horrified me.

He’d organized his troops just as if they were a cavalla force. He’d established a rudimentary chain of command. He’d made an attempt at teaching basic drill, but had to give it up. His “troops” could not understand the use of it and simply did not cooperate. They had no tradition of military obedience, and little concept of a graduated hierarchy, and he’d had no time to establish one. He’d had to be content with training them to change locations swiftly when he ordered it. Hardest for them to learn was that they themselves did not decide how to place themselves; they had to wait for his commands. It had not been easy. His troops had flocked mostly to Dasie’s call and came from all the kin-clans. They were supposedly three hundred strong. The reality was that they came and went at their own whim. He’d had as few as one hundred turn out when he called. It was a great weakness and would be disastrous if he attempted an attack on Gettys. But I didn’t intend to support him in that. My own fear was closer to home.