leave. She was awakened anew by friends every few hours for the next fortnight before she at last admitted that it was impossible.

"You see now, dearling, why you must never speak of it. We are asleep, unprotected by Kindred or armour, unable even to call for help or defend ourselves. It is our greatest weakness and our greatest secret."

"I understand. But why should dreams then be more important than dreams at any other time?"

"Dreams during the Weh sleep are very rare. They are generally taken to be the word of the Winds, and we are told by the Elders to pay close attention to them."

"And you had one about me?" I asked, very pleased though I was beginning to drowse. All this talk of sleep had made me realise just how tired I was. It had been an unbelievable day.

"I have had three Weh dreams, one each of the last three times I have slept. In the first I met you. It was the first day of the Harvest and I saw you come ashore, as I did in truth. In the

second half of that dream I heard someone call to me." His voice went soft and loving. "It was the voice of a child of the Gedri, pleading in the dark, and it called me brother."

I smiled. "I'm glad I got it right. What about your other two dreams?''

"In the second you and I stood on a clifftop, and I helped a pair of younglings on their first flight. There were others there, but I did not recognise them.

"And in the third—ah, it was even more mysterious than the other two. A female of your race, whom I had never seen, approached me and called me by my full, true name, but I was not frightened. It was as if we were old friends meeting after centuries apart."

I liked the sound of them all—very reassuring, somehow. I tried to say something sensible but couldn't think of anything; I was too busy yawning. Looking around, I saw that the sky was beginning to lighten.

''Akor, forgive me, but I think even talk of the Weh sleep must be catching. I don't know about you, but I'm cold and hungry and I need sleep in the worst way. Would you mind if I

slept in a corner of your chambers?''

He was amused. "Come, rouse yourself to gather firewood enough for a little time. I shall light that which you took in before."

I dragged myself round the edge of the forest twice collecting wood. Much of it had frost on it. I knew how it felt. Tired as I was, I was thankful for the exercise if only to warm my cold bones. When I brought the second armful in, Akor had already started a cheerful blaze. I found him curled onto the floor of khaadish. I purposely ignored the gleam of gold that surrounded me, not that I had to work very hard. I was exhausted.

I stood before the fire for a while, getting as warm as I could.

"Lanen, dear heart, forgive me. I forget that you feel the cold so. Come close by me, take my warmth; it is greater far than the fire."

I grinned to myself. Too tired, Lanen. You never thought of that.

There was a space on the ground, in the midst of the curl as it were. I leaned back against him and instantly relaxed against the warmth that poured from his armour. It felt wonderful. I just managed to mumble, "Goodnight, dear heart," before I fell asleep.

I lay there for many hours watching her. She was both beautiful and strange. How peculiar not to have wings! I found myself idly imagining a world in which the Gedri had once bad wings, but had lost them and been forced to walk on two feet. It still seemed an unnatural way to travel, though it did free the forelegs to carry. That was one thing I had long envied the Gedri.

She sighed in her sleep and stirred. I found myself thinking of her as a youngling again, simply because of her size. Without thinking I lay my near wing over her to keep her warm.

She did not wake, only pushed herself closer to me. It was a wondrous feeling.

I knew that I must leave her by midday to join the Council. What I would tell them now, I had no idea. I must give it thought. But I would not give up a moment with Lanen that I did not have to.

They live such quick, fiery lives, the Gedrishakrim. I had known more changes, more surprises, more emotions in the last three days than I had felt in as many centuries. My sense of time was becoming distorted also; I had begun to think in terms of hours instead of days, or moons. Or years. I had, in effect, known a little time of living like the Gedri, and it was a new and wondrous thing. I hoped I could convince the Council of that.

In the meantime I lay beside my beloved in my own chambers, something I would have sworn mere days ago would never happen. Idai will be furious, I thought, smiling sadly to myself. Dear Idai, she had wanted me for so long. I simply never felt for her as I must feel towards a mate. I hoped she would understand when at last I had to tell her. I did not think it likely.

My heart was at peace, despite all that I knew must come. The word of the Winds, the Council, having to explain about Lanen and me: none of it would be simple. But for now there were only the two of us, and I let my heart fill with the kind of joy I had despaired of ever knowing.

Lanen, my heart. Lanen, my dear one. Lanen, my betrothed.

Lanen Kaelar.

My fife had changed forever.

In the end I waited some hours after Caderan left. It was all very well for him to assure me that the beasts were bound by law—but in my experience, if you fine a butcher, you are more likely to get brains or tripe than the finest cut joints. If I were in their place I would do the same. No, I would go among their dwellings and discover what I could for myself.

I left my cabin normally clad, carrying the boots of silent movement and the cloak of unseeing. The amulet, which would mask my smell, would last but a very short time indeed, and I had decided to save it until the night we were to leave, when I would collect whatever I had found.

I put on boots and cloak and crossed the Boundary some miles east of our camp, near the sea, that their Guardian migh: have the longer trip to find me. At first, I might just as well have been walking the halls of Castle Gundar, for there was not one of the creatures in sight. The moon was bright enough to guide me easily.

I walked warily but unhindered, seeking their lairs and the storied riches therein, but at first found little. Past the Boundary I went a mile north, keeping the shoreline in sight, then turned inland. I should have known, I suppose. Do not all the ballads describe the lairs of such beasts as being in caves? Half a mile in from the sea I came across a low line of hills. and the first of their dwellings.

From the outside it was plain rock. I approached cautiously, even though the boots masked the sound of my footsteps. I heard no movement, and my dim sight saw nothing, but I did not trust it. I stood and listened a good ten minutes, then crept slowly in keeping well against the wall, but there was no need, it was deserted. I lit a small taper I had brought, lifted it high and gazed about me dumbfounded.

The tales were true and more than true. I did not know there was so much gold in the world.

The wall, the very floors were covered with it. I looked all round, noting all but touching nothing, then moved on.

I saw three more caves; the first two were occupied and I went near enough only to hear the inhabitants and leave, but the third was the charm indeed. Its tenant was absent, so I brought out my tinderbox again and lit the taper. When finally it caught I lost my breath, for I had surely found the lair of their treasure-keeper.

The walls were covered with gold to the depth of my second finger joint, deeply graven with strange symbols and set with many-hued crystals from the earth and vast pearls from the sea.