Jamie, Rella and I were in the lead, mounted when the road was not too steep, leading the horses when it was. The two of them divided their time between bouts of scouting ahead and around, and bouts of old-fashioned chattering. They had both done a great deal with their lives and I was happy enough simply to listen much of the time.

I hadn't forgotten the two in my care. Aral quite happily spent the journey walking with me, walking with Vilkas, and pestering Varien and Lanen. Their story amazed her and she spoke to them about it as long as they could bear. Lanen eventually had enough and sent her away, kindly but firmly. Aral didn't seem to mind.

The one I worried about was Vilkas. He had kept to himself even more than usual, and even Aral had trouble getting through to him at first. Aral had told me what had happened, that Vil had managed to tap into some of the great store of power that he hid even from himself. It seemed to me a cause for rejoicing, but Vilkas seemed to spend an awful long time thinking about it.

By the time we lit a fire that night I found myself shivering, deep inside. I was pleased to be going home but there was more to it than that. I couldn't tell if it was fear or anticipation or just plain cold, but as the night went on every part of me took up the shaking. I felt like a bee sounds in a clover field. It wasn't anything you could see, but it kept me awake most of the night. I wasn't the only one.

I walked along in silence for most of the journey. I was aware of a growing wrongness in the air and almost mentioned it, but I have learned over the years to conceal my feelings. I could have been mistaken. It might simply have been the altitude. Besides, I was in the midst of trying to understand so much all at once that I might only have been sensing my own roiling emotions. Aral spent a little time with me, enough to realise that I was restraining myself. She occasionally dropped back to walk with me in companionable silence, for which I was grateful, and once she muttered something along the lines of "You're doing well, Vil. I know it's hard, but best to wait until we can stop for a while." It did not make things any easier, but it was gratifying that she was aware of my self-control.

In fact she had no idea how controlled I really was. It had been simple enough for her to tell me to let loose my power that night, but I was the one who had actually done it. The thought still made me shake inside.

I had dared to harness the sky god, or forced me Death of the World to do something useful if you looked at it that way. I had undone the work of a decade to meet Lanen's desperate need, and not only had both the world and I survived, it had worked.

I was still in a kind of shock. It was not possible to do what I had done. I had changed that woman's blood to some unheard-of mixture of human and dragon and she was still alive. That wasn't possible. I felt that I was walking simultaneously in two worlds, the one that surrounded me at the moment, and the other in which reason had its way and she lost the children or died or both. Those were the only possible outcomes of her condition. At best I might have helped her to live, but the babes would die and life would go on.

That hadn't happened. I had let loose more of my power that night man I had dared to use for many years and the woman lived and would bear her children. What they might become I could not imagine, but that they would live was my responsibility.

Deep within me, where I could just bear to listen to it now, arose the thought that I might just be able to accept my power and use it, all of it—

All of it —and choose the way of the sky god after all. Lanen was a good person. With just a portion of that power I had kept her and her children alive and healthy.

What is the point of being the Death of the World in any case?

There's never anyone around to see you succeed.

By the time we camped the second night I had come to my own peace with what had happened, but I appeared to be in the minority. Will volunteered to take the first watch and we let him; anyone could see he had no chance of sleeping. Lanen and Varien weren't far behind. Only Rella and Jamie seemed to sleep well that night. I wondered if anyone's conscience could be that clear.

Aral had come and sat beside me when the fire was starting to die down. "Vil, I know you feel it," she said softly. "What in all the Hells is going on?"

"If I knew that I'd do my damnedest to do something about it so I could get some rest," I replied. "I've been trying to ignore the lot of you for hours now. You are a dear friend, Aral, but please, I haven't recovered yet from that healing session." It was a polite lie, but still it was better than simply asking her to go away. She raised an eyebrow at me, expressed dubious sympathy and left.

I lay down and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the atmosphere. Ever try to sleep through a night filled with a wildly raging wind? It was much the same thing.

Dawn couldn't come too soon. I had managed a few hours' sleep at the tail end of the night, but I woke feeling more weary than when I went to sleep and Varien wasn't much better. The misty grey morning didn't help any of us— we all woke slightly damp and a lot colder than we had been. Will had kept the fire going all night, which was a blessing. I wondered how he managed—he said he hadn't had a wink of sleep but he seemed more alert than the rest of us.

Oh—except for the old campaigners. Rella woke with her usual stiff back, which Jamie was learning to loosen; he said his side was paining him, but I caught his eye. "You're just out for any sympathy going," I said, laughing at him over my second mug of chelan.

"You know me too well," he said, stretching. "Next time I'm leaving you behind."

I would have kept on teasing him but to my astonishment Idai's voice interrupted me. "Varien? Lanen? May I bespeak you?"

"Of course, Idai," replied Varien, who had taken to wearing his circlet at all times. "What is the trouble I hear in your thoughts?"

"Have you heard from Hadreshikrar?" she asked, and now even I could hear the concern in her mind-voice. "I bespoke him just now and I heard him begin to respond, but after that came only silence."

"I have heard nothing, Lady," said Varien. I was staring at him, completely confused, but he took my hand and muttered aloud, "Not now, I will tell you in a moment."

"I take it you fear for him," he added in truespeech.

"He should have been there by now, Akhor," said Idai. I managed to keep back a yelp, but not very well. Fortunately, Idai heard nothing but Varien's voice reassuring her. "We will find him if we can, Lady," he said. "Shikrar has not called to us either—perhaps he rests after his journey?"

"That might be, Akhor, but I like it not that I cannot hear him. I pray you, take the time to find him, and rouse him if you can."

"We will do what we can," said Varien. He winced, and I realised that his head must be throbbing now with the pain of traespeech. It seemed worse for him at the moment than it was for me, and I found it hard enough.

"We thank you, Lady, for letting us know your concern. Let us all seek him and who finds him first tell the others," I said, and released the link as she agreed.

Varien took off the circlet and rubbed his temples, grimacing.

I just stared at him. Eventually he looked up at me. "What do you—ah," he said.

"Ah, indeed," I said, not knowing whether to be amused or annoyed or delighted. "How long have you known that Shikrar was on his way here?"

I gathered from the subdued spluttering noises that Rella had overheard.

"I have only known that for—ah—Lanen, in my fear for your safety I have neglected to tell you—a great deal has been happening among the Kantri of late," he ended lamely, looking for all the world like a small child who has forgotten to carry out its mother's errand. "Lanen—perhaps you should sit down." He smiled then, almost a mischievous grin. "It is a truth and it is most definitely spiky. In fact, it is also horned, tailed and taloned, and it is not he, it is they."