Illyra did not know if she'd heard the crash under the awning or if she onlyawoke because Dubro had heard it, had shoved her aside, and was already wadinginto the storm and mud. By the time she lit a candle from a coal in the cookingfire, Dubro had retrieved the young man whose visit'had precipitated all theirmisfortune.

'Thinking to steal, lad?" Dubro growled, lifting the sewer-snipe by the neck foremphasis.

Mustering his courage. Zip twisted his leg for a kick where it would hurt thesmith most and found himself thrown face-first onto the rough-wood floor for hisunsuccessful effort.

"What did you want? Your gold coin?" Illyra interceded, grabbing her shawl andtwirling it modestly around her as she rummaged through her boxes. "I've kept itfor you." She found the coin and threw it onto the floor by his face. "Bethankful and begone," she warned him.

Zip grabbed the coin and scrabbled to his knees. "You stole Him. You cursed meand kept Him for yourself. His eyes were fire when I called Him back to me. Hedoesn't need me anymore!" The young man's face was torn and bloody, but the edgeof hysteria in his voice came from something deeper than physical pain. "This isnot enough! I need Him back." He cast the coin aside and produced a knife fromsomewhere around his waist.

Maniacal rage was not unknown to Illyra who had, more than once, said the wrongwords to a distraught querent, but then she had been behind a solid wood tablewith a knife of her own. Zip lunged at her before she or Dubro comprehended thedanger. The blade bit deep into her shoulder before Dubro could move.

"He'll take me back with this," Zip said in triumph from the doorway,brandishing his bloody knife before disappearing into the storm.

Zip's knife had left a small, deep wound that did not, to Dubro's eye, bleedheavily enough. They would need poultices and herbs to keep the cut from goingto poison, and that would have meant Moonflower, if she'd been alive. WithoutMoonflower they had only their instincts to guide them until morning. Caring forIllyra was more urgent than chasing Zip. The frightened apprentice was sent tothe well for clean water while Dubro carried his Illyra to their bed.

The apprentice had just set the water on the fire-grate when the doyen of theS'danzo in Sanctuary darkened the doorway. Tall, raw-boned, and bitter, she wasnot the e.ldest of the amoushem, the scrying-women, nor certainly the most farSighted, but she was the most feared. Her word had prohibited Moonflower frombringing the abandoned, orphaned Illyra into her home. S'danzo and suvesh alikeknew her as the Termagant and even Dubro shrank back when she made the hand-signagainst evil and entered the room.

Illyra pushed herself up from the pillows. "Go away. I don't want your help."

With a loud, disdainful sniff the Termagant turned away from Illyra and pluckedat the blankets in Arton's cradle. "You've brought us all to the edge of death,and only you can bring us back-only you. You See the gods, but do you ever closeyour eyes to look around you? No. Even Rezel-and your mother's Sight was betterthan your half-blood will ever be-knew better than this. Suvesh pray and meddlewith magic, but they are Sightless creatures and no one notices them. When aS'danzo woman opens her eyes... Even the mightiest of gods don't have the Sight,Illyra; remember that."

The crone looked away, unwilling to say more. Illyra slumped back against thepillows, her rage and fear dampened by doubt. Rezel had never troubled to tellher toddling daughter about the S'danzo ways. Moonflower had tried, but with theTermagant herself threatening and cursing from the shadows, Illyra had learneddangerously little about the people whose gifts she used.

"I have not sought gods or gyskourem," she whispered in her own defense. "Theyfound me."

"There're demon ships sailing the harbor; black beasts rampaging through theMaze, and the wretched storms besides. The suvesh are making themselves a wargod, Illyra, and the gyskourem they draw to Sanctuary will stop at nothing tobecome that god. It is not the time for S'danzo to be using cards and Sight forthem."

"I have not used the Sight for them. I have not had the Sight since just aftermy son was touched..." She would have continued, but the herbal infusion hadbegun to steam and the Termagant moved swiftly to make a poultice with it thattook Illyra's breath away when it rested against her shoulder.

"Fool, you cursed the suvesh, not the gyskourem that drove him," the cronewhispered now that Illyra alone could hear her. She glanced at Arton's cradle,her disdain replaced by naked concern. "Does he have the Sight?"

Illyra would have laughed, had it been possible. Men did not inherit the Sight,and girl-children did not know if they possessed it until well after Lillis andArton's age.

The Termagant noticed Illyra's half-smile. "S'danzo men do not have the Sight.Who is to say what he might have. You care little enough for the S'danzo-and,maybe I did wrong to mis-See danger in you, to try to keep you and the S'danzoseparate. Know this then: it has been many generations since a new god was madefrom the gyskourem, and never have they taken the place of so powerful a god asVashanka. But if gyskourem are to become a god, they must first be drawn by needand sacrifice; then they must become Gyskouras-become one with a chosen mortal.It will be so, even with the new Vashanka.

"They have chosen your son as Gyskouras. Through him they have Blinded you. Godshave never been a threat to us but this one, this Gyskouras-who was your sonwill have the Sight, and will be invincible."

"But the Gyskouras will be Molin Torchholder's child in the temple...."

"Many men hope and sacrifice, Illyra, but there can only be one Gyskouras. It isnot yet decided. One child or the other must die before the Gyskouras can emergeto be among men before becoming a god. You have loved your son. If you can'tfree him from the gyskourem web, then kill him before it is too late for us allS'danzo and suvesh."

She pressed the clothes against the wound and, knowing that their sting wouldkeep the young woman speechless for some time longer, turned to her husband."You must avenge her," she said to Dubro as she began the first of four silkenstitches which would hold the wound shut. "You may wait until she recovers ordies, or you can kill him outright for the insult to all the S'danzo. She willpay, but so must the suvesh who did this to her. None of us who use the cardsare safe if this is unavenged."

Dubro shook his head. "If I had caught him before he left, he would be dead, butI cannot hunt a man to the death, old woman. I will send word to the towngarrison. They'll be glad enough of a reason..."

"No." Illyra struggled to sit up. "No, let him go. Let him have my blood on hisaltar. If it will free Alton, it's small enough price. Let him be the Gyskourasof the new Stormgod."

"He attacked a S'danzo seer; his destiny is not for gods or gyskourem to decide.The S'danzo have no gods to protect them-only vengeance!" The woman raised herhand over Illyra's face and found it caught there in Dubro's bone-crushing fist.

"She is but half-S'danzo, old woman. You and the rest cast her out before. Ifshe does not want vengeance, then you shall not give it to her." Dubro releasedthe old woman and shoved her through the door into the abating storm. He frownedas he wiped the tears from his wife's cheek.

"Shall I go to the barracks?" the apprentice asked into

the silence.

"Not yet. We'll wait and see what happens." Illyra slipped into sleep, but Dubrosat, staring, in his chair. At dawn he awoke his wife and told her hisintentions had not changed. He would sell his forge to the armorer and quietlybuy a wagon. They would be gone from Sanctuary by sundown. His wife did notargue and pretended to go back to sleep. The Termagant's medicine had done itswork well; the wound was cool to the touch. Once Dubro had left, she was able todress herself, invent chores for the apprentice, and sit on the bench beside theforge to wait anxiously for her husband's return while Lillis played in the dustat her feet.