"His name's Tom."

"Tom, then. Look after him. He will be lost to the outside world much of the time for the next few weeks. When Mathanas channeled himself into him, he forced out all the rubbish in Tom's body. The metal and the implants. The things that would not let him go beyond his

own past. They're gone now. Mathanas re-grew parts of Tom's own body from what was left."

"By the gods, what is Mathanas?"

"Well, now, that would be a very long story indeed," Niall smiled. "Which brings me to my second point. You do not understand about you and the girl, do you?"

"Kristen. Her name is Kristen, and I'm Serrin. She's not the 'girl,' " he retorted rather petulantly.

"Yes, I know that. You do not see it, though, do you?"

"See what?"

"You have not been together very long this time, I know."

"How do you know? Wait, don't tell me. It's better for me not to know, right?"

Niall laughed. He took a silver flask of brandy from his jacket and offered some to Serrin. It was good; strong, rich, a real jolt he needed badly.

"More or less. I had been watching you, at one point. But that was some time ago, and it is not important," Niall continued. "But you and her; that is important. What did you experience when you first saw her?"

"What do you mean?"

"Think carefully. What did you feel when you first talked to her for a little while?"

"Urn, it was strange. It felt like I knew her quite well."

"Well, that is a start," Niall said. "But you have not made love with her."

"That's none of your fragging business, you

"Don't be silly," Niall retorted sharply. "It is obvious to anyone from the way she looks at you."

"It is?" Serrin muttered, his annoyance mixed with puzzlement.

"Yes. She yearns for you, and yet you refuse to see it. There is a simple reason why you are unready. But I do not know how much I should tell you."

"That seems to be the usual story with you," Serrin said testily.

"I can let you know in two ways. I can give you just the details, or I can let you enter into it for yourself," Niall said. "Up to you. It is more than I ought to do."

"Just tell me," Serrin said, afraid of what this extraordinary elf might do to his mind. Niall seemed to understand that, but he made his own decision, deciding that the stubborn mage would not listen to words alone. He took Serrin's head in his hands.

Almost instantly the memories flooded over Serrin. He saw the skyline over the port with the sailing ships, felt the warmth from the winds over the azure waters, saw his own white robe, saw her beside him. He could hear no words, but he saw himself talking to her, jabbing with a finger as she wrote down what he was saying on a piece of animal hide, using a sharp reed as a pen. He had hardly registered the fact that she, too, was elven before the scene faded away. Then he saw himself alone, inside some gloomy straw hut in a damp darkness illuminated only by a beeswax candle guttering on the crude wooden table before which he sat. He sensed damp, smelly fur on his back, a hide covering him. An ornate iron plate and goblet were beside him, but he didn't take in much more of his surroundings. The wretched feelings just spun around inside him. / can't have her. She's been sold by her father into marriage with Declan and I can't have her. Do I kill him or do I kill myself?

Niall let go of him, leaving Serrin white and shaking again.

"It's a trick," he blustered. "You fragged with my mind. It's not real. None of it is real!"

"It was. Once you were her teacher. You felt it was wrong, a betrayal of your responsibilities. I think that is probably echoed in your being so much older this time; it has a similar inhibiting effect on you. Another time, she was taken into marriage against her will. It has always been difficult, but you have seen only two instances. She was hurt enough that she did not want to enter another cycle. Which is why she is human this time. It is a step backward on the Path for her spirit, but it was a price she was ready to pay for you both. This time, it is possible. You need not be apart this time. You have been given the chance to make it right."

"I don't understand. What do I do now?" Serrin asked him.

"Even if I knew, I could not tell you. It is not for me

to walk another's Path. But if you do not return something of the love she has for you, you will be making it even harder for yourself next time." They walked back to the car in silence.

Just before he opened the car's rear door, Serrin said, "I can't understand this. I just can't get my head around it."

"Try forgetting your head," Niall said simply, and climbed into the front seat. The car pulled off, moving slowly down the hillside into the morning.

Serrin finished his coffee and looked out at the Manhattan skyline. It had been so much to absorb, and though he felt like he might know how to get there, he also knew he hadn't even started yet.

They were visiting with Michael. "Told you Englishmen were bulletproof," Michael joked. "I'm going to need a back support for some time, maybe for keeps, but everything's in working order."

He had already arranged the flight to Sun City, anxious to be free of the hospital. While Serrin, Tom, and Kristen waited for him to be strong enough for the flight back home, they'd spent much of their time sleeping long hours at the hotel. The physical and emotional exhaustion of the ordeal had taken an enormous toll. The Irish elf had driven them back to Berlin and then vanished. Serrin never did get him to reveal his name, much less where he was going or what he intended to do. Perhaps it was true, as the Irish elf claimed, that it was better for Serrin not to know his name, but that didn't change his fretting over being kept in the dark.

Serrin was now almost broke. He'd virtually emptied his accounts in order to give it to the orks they'd met in the bar. They had left so many dead, after all. Knowing the orks would refuse blood money, the elf had talked about their families. About what they believed in, their policlub, their rights. Persuasive words had sent some of the money in the direction of relatives and some into education for their children. Frag it, it's only money, Serrin had thought at the time. With only a few thousand still in his account, maybe he'd have to start looking for gainful

employment as a corporate mage again. It didn't matter. He had to give them the money.

The situation with Kristen was the one he didn't know how to right. Though he'd tried to explain what the elf had revealed to him, she couldn't seem to grasp it even though Serrin was sure she believed him. That didn't surprise the elf. What had he ever really known about himself before being shown those deep, ancient memories? And yet it was still troubling. He was partly fascinated, desperate to know the who and why and where of it all, and partly repelled, not wanting to confront it. In some ways all this made him even more uncertain about how to behave with her. Michael, gently, tried to tell him that she was growing restless and unhappy, as though Serrin couldn't see that for himself.

He remembered Magellan's words about taking better care of the world when you know you're coming back. But for Magellan it had ended in obsession to the point of madness, an unshakable belief in an ever-returning master elven race whose destiny made them special. Serrin didn't want to be vulnerable to such delusions.

And then there was Tom, who was gradually returning to some semblance of normality, but spent more time lost in his own bliss, perhaps in profound contemplation of his new self. Serrin guessed that every time the troll moved, he must feel the wonder of it all. Every muscle movement would be a miracle to him. He was glad for Tom, truly glad, but where did all this leave him?