Silverdoom
                         Prologue
           2,000,000, Age of Life, Early Winter
    Dreams wrapped him like a blanket, dreams of cool dark 
comfort he could not entirely shake loose. He rolled over, 
but did not know if it were in the waking world or the 
dream. The tides of sleep and the tides of the place he 
dreamed seemed equally willing to swallow him.
    One thing was to be said for this darkness, however: 
it was peaceful. He was not sure why that should seem so 
wonderful to one fighting a war, but it did.
    Distantly, he heard a soft challenge, a response, and 
then the sound of a quiet conversation. He tried to force 
the voices away, tried to think they weren't talking about 
him and he wouldn't be awakened in a moment.
    But he could not force away the hand that shook him- 
gently, insistently, but still shook. "My Lord Maruss? 
General? You have a visitor." The disapproval in the voice 
was obvious, but the speaker kept it down to a polite 
level.
    Maruss Freewind blinked and sat up, trying not to 
scowl at either the one who had disturbed his sleep or the 
bodyguard who had given him this new title everyone 
insisted upon. Neither deserved it. "Yes?" he asked, his 
gaze intently studying the pair that stood over him.
    The visitor bowed deeply, almost as if he wished to 
hide his face, but Maruss had already recognized his 
scent, not to mention his appearance. Only one in the army 
so far had green-brown skin like that. "Meljae," he said, 
pleasantly enough he thought, but the woodland Elwen 
stiffened as if he had growled. Maruss stifled a sigh and 
went on mildly. "Well met. You needed to speak to me?"
    "Privately, he says," said the bodyguard, a churni of 
the Deepen Klaina. The death Elwen cast the eluvor a look 
that was two parts suspicion and one dislike. "Apparently 
he doesn't know that's no longer allowed."
    Maruss froze in mid-flow to his feet, just for a 
moment, then allowed himself to complete the rest of the 
motion. Even so, his voice was as cool as the winter air 
around them. "And who made this decision?"
    The churni froze like a rabbit with a light shining in 
its eyes, and Maruss fought the urge to conjure a mirror 
and study his face. Did he really look that alarming? 
"Why," said the death Elwen after a long moment, "Lord 
Jesartlu."
    Maruss searched his mind for this one's name; there 
were so many to remember now. "Kindal Deepen, isn't it?" 
he asked, and the guard nodded warily. "Well, Kindal, Lord 
Jesartlu said nothing of this to me, and until he does, 
you are to consider the order void. I feel perfectly safe 
to talk alone with Meljae." He called his magic and let a 
dim glow pulse from his silver hands for a moment before 
he snuffed it. "I can defend myself."
    "Of course," Kindal murmured, his eyes on the ground. 
Maruss wondered if it were shame or fear. He liked 
neither, but either was better than reverence. "Shall I 
have Lord Jesartlu report to you when you get back from 
speaking with the eluvor?"
    "There's no need for that. I'll seek him out myself."
    Kindal said nothing, but Maruss knew the death Elwen 
who had spontaneously taken up guarding him well enough to 
know that the land Elwen would be waiting for him when he 
got back. Maruss wouldn't be able to object, of course. 
How could he object to a useful service that did not harm 
him? But he would seethe inside all the same.
    It wasn't as if he'd asked for this, after all, he 
thought furiously as he walked into the shadows with 
Meljae pacing silently at his side. He had simply awakened 
one morning to find a ring of them around him. Kindal was 
now the only one who stood in plain sight, but the others 
were there, some even deadlier than the death Elwen. If 
only...
    Well, he had not yet won the battle of convincing them 
he wasn't that important, and until he did, there was no 
use in letting it send him into a black rage. Only Xerdri 
is supposed to be able to do that, he told himself with a 
whimsical smile that quickly became an apologetic frown as 
he turned to the eluvor.
    "Your pardon, Meljae. I was walking without regard for 
you. Is there some place more private you wish to talk?"
    The eluvor did not lift his gaze, but those green eyes 
had blazed with defiance and hatred often enough. Thus, 
the shadowed Elwen was startled to hear him murmur shyly, 
"Wherever you wish to go will be just fine, General 
Maruss."
    Maruss hid his irritation under a mock groan. "Not 
you, too!" he complained when Meljae was forced to look at 
him out of startlement. "Kindal calls me that all the 
time. No matter how I ask, beg, or order him to stop, he 
does it. Please don't tell me there are two of you."
    This time, Meljae's glance was one of honest surprise. 
"Why, everyone does it. Everyone except Lady Xerdri, that 
is. She seems to think she can speak of you however she 
wishes. But she makes sure the others show 'proper 
respect,' as she calls it."
    "Another talk I will have to have," Maruss murmured, 
and then cursed himself silently as he saw Meljae flush. 
For some reason he understood only in principle, people 
didn't like hearing him argue with his ladylove. Xerdri 
didn't mind- in fact, was only too happy to have an 
audience- but the growing numbers of the Annihilators 
seemed to believe, or liked to believe, that their leader 
led an untroubled life.
    Why can't they see that I'm Elwen? Maruss thought 
wearily, as he often did. Neither more nor less than them. 
"Your pardon again, Meljae. What did you wish to talk to 
me about?"
    For a long moment, the eluvor was silent. Maruss 
devoted the time to studying the night around them. It was 
remarkably clear, the cold wind seemingly having swept 
clouds as well as warmth away. The stars watched the earth 
in the same aloof silver silence they used everywhere, 
whether on soft forest or the cracked earth of the 
Falchian Plains where the two Elwens walked. The moons 
still hung largely full and shining in the sky- it had 
been only five days since Wheeling, the turning of the 
year, when all four were full together. But now only three 
remained: red-white Salsi, the Lord of Winter, with purple 
Rareth and aqua Takon patiently awaiting their turns for 
spring and summer.
    "I didn't want to go into that fire simply because of 
my sister's prophecy," Meljae said quietly at last.
    Startled, Maruss looked at him. The eluvor walked with 
his eyes on the ground again, as if every small fissure 
marring the dry gray clay must be memorized. "What do you 
mean?" Maruss asked at last, gently.
    "I didn't think that dying, and destroying Kumota as I 
did so, was only fulfilling my sister's prophecy, or a 
noble and heroic thing to do," the woodland Elwen 
confessed to Maruss's astonished silence. "I thought that 
at the last moment, it would make Xerdri sorrow for me."
    Maruss drew breath and released it in a sad sigh. He 
had thought the forest Elwen recovered from his hopeless 
love of the nightmare Elwen- hopeless, because she and the 
curalli were committed to each other with a strength that 
still sometimes took Maruss's breath away. "I'm sorry, 
Meljae. It's a perfectly understandable impulse," he 
added, wondering if Mel wanted forgiveness.
    The vicious, green-eyed glare snapped his way 
destroyed that thought. "Keep your pity," the woodland 
Elwen snorted. "I wanted only to tell you, so that you 
would understand. There are many things you need to 
understand about the world, Maruss Freewind, and impulses 
not least. Not everyone is as noble as you think him." He 
turned on his heel and strode away.
    Maruss was still blinking after him when a small sound 
to his right made him whirl, hand falling to the hilt of 
Starsheen, his sentient knife, as he summoned his magic. 
The knife came awake with a sleepy buzz that swiftly 
turned eager as he anticipated battle.
    But nothing showed itself, and Maruss's sniffing 
caught no more scents than those of blood and rotting 
leaves. His mouth tightened. Kindal, or another churni- 
watching him when he had specifically asked to talk with 
Meljae alone.
    "Yes, Jes," he muttered, releasing Starsheen and 
walking back toward his bedroll. "You and I are going to 
have a very long talk."
    Now, now. argued one part of him. They're just 
concerned with your well-being.
    But another part of him remembered Meljae's words 
about nobility, and he wondered.




                        Chapter 1
                 Reunions and Ceremonies
    Maruss rolled over and drew his cloak more tightly 
over his head. "Go away," he muttered.
    The one who was shaking him did not relent, as Kindal 
had, attacking with words instead of shoves. "I suppose 
you intend to have the ravens hover overhead until noon?" 
asked an acid voice. "Or do you not wake up until even 
later than that?"
    Maruss opened his eyes. "Xerdri?" he asked in 
disbelief, peering up at the nightmare Elwen and blinking. 
Whatever her complaints of the time, she stood silhouetted 
against the rising sun. He couldn't be all that late.
    "No, Kumota's ghost!" snapped a furious voice. "Of 
course it's me!" She whirled out of the light, glaring at 
him. She looked as if she would have liked to wave her 
arms, but they were loaded down with cloth. She had to 
settle for her eyes instead. Maruss had to admit they were 
enough: aqua, the color of the sea, but at the moment 
surging as if they would like to swallow him like a 
sinking ship. Her hair, foam-crested- green, blue, and 
white- spilled down her shoulders in polished waves, and 
her tunic and leggings looked as fresh as if she had spent 
hours preparing, which she probably had. Maruss had never 
met anyone so preoccupied with her appearance.
    "You're beautiful when you're angry," he said 
admiringly.
    "Hmmmph!" Xerdri seemed to swell to twice her size, 
but it was his turn to hide a smile as he saw one hand 
subtly detach from the pile of cloth and creep up to touch 
her hair. When she spoke, she sounded a little less 
enraged than before, however she tried to hide it. 
"Flatterer. As I said, the ravens are hovering overhead, 
but they won't land until they receive a formal greeting 
from you. Put these on." She tossed the pile of cloth at 
him.
    Maruss lifted one piece- a fine gray tunic sewn of 
some delicate silk he didn't recognize- and frowned his 
displeasure. "You actually expect me to wear this?" he 
asked accusingly. "This barely keeps me warm!" He nodded 
at the tunic he wore- heavy enough for his taste, but not 
for Xerdri's.
    "How?" was the snide answer. "Accumulated grime? You 
can't even tell the color of the thing anymore."
    "I can so," muttered Maruss, dropping the silken tunic 
as if it were a spider- from which it might have come, for 
all he knew. "Gray. Just like that one. And that one is 
considerably less appropriate for a winter day. How will I 
look going to meet them in something ridiculous as that?"
    "Clean," said Xerdri succinctly.
    Maruss yelped an indignant protest. "I took a bath 
just yesterday!"
    "But your clothes didn't. Now put this on." Xerdri was 
speaking in the tone that meant she wouldn't listen to any 
more arguments. Carefully, she separated the gray silk 
tunic from gray silk leggings, a long braided piece of 
leather that Maruss finally made out as a ludicrous 
ornamented belt, and high boots of hide as fine and soft 
and thin as paper. He shook his head and stood.
    "No. I've kept our guests waiting long enough, if what 
you say is true. I'm not making them wait longer by 
putting that on."
    Xerdri answered him with a look of infinite patience. 
"Who," she asked with a glint in her eye, "will be here 
longer- them, or me?"
    Maruss glared at her, started to step around her, and 
found her still squarely in front of him. He became aware 
of people watching and felt his cheeks flush white with 
the influx of pale blood. "Stop it, Xerdri!" he hissed.
    The xanmara cast a glance around, smiled sweetly, and 
nodded like an actor acknowledging her audience. For his 
ears alone, she murmured, "I can keep this up, being not 
in the slightest bit embarrassed. You, however, cannot." 
She again held the clothes out to him.
    Maruss took them and went in search of a place to 
change, muttering under his breath.
----------------------------------------------------------
    When he returned, wilting under the stares of his 
people, so embarrassed he could barely walk, he muttered 
to Xerdri, "You'll pay for this."
    "But darling," was her innocent answer, "you look 
wonderful."
    Maruss thought seriously about throwing something at 
her, but she had already darted ahead, vigilant as a guard 
hound even in a place where he should have nothing to 
fear, leaving her beloved to look around the encampment.
    It never ceased to amaze him with how quickly it had 
grown. Ranks on ranks of bedrolls, with here and there a 
tent- more to ward off chill than damp- stretched nearly 
to the horizon. The death Elwens of five Klainae, their 
clan-like organizations, were here. Even as he watched, 
two ebony-skinned Elwens, draped in shapeless, intricately 
wound strips of black leather, walked past, saluting him 
without stopping their soft intent conversation. They were 
trailed by another churni in the uncomfortable white 
garments that indicated a sha'sheerin, or servant. The 
only notable difference between him and his masters was 
the color of his eyes, blue-gold where the others bore 
pure gold. Maruss looked the other way, fearing his anger 
was not hidden. All his best efforts had done little to 
eradicate what was at best a form of legal slavery.
    Not only churni but scattered refugees of other races 
had begun to trickle in. Xerdri had been overjoyed to find 
that her people, living on the northern Gulf of Torman, 
hadn't been completely destroyed by the unicorns. Now 
nightmare, flame, cobra, darkness, and even a few land 
Elwens went busily about their tasks, chivvying their 
families aside from the death Elwens with awe but not any 
real fear. The churni had more than enough silver unicorn 
prisoners to satisfy their need for life-force.
    The camp bustled with equines, too: red unicorns 
sharpening their horns, deathtrotters watching over their 
riders or their sacred Circle that stood at the camp's 
heart, even a few silver unicorns from wilder herds who 
had sought to join their cause and had been cautiously 
accepted. All wore blindfolds; none wanted to risk an 
accidental enslaving by the gazepower that could mean the 
doom of all silverini in the army.
    All in all, they looked exactly like what they were: 
members of an army readying for a war that would 
(hopefully) topple the Empire and end slavery.
    Maruss, with a start, abruptly realized that he had 
lost sight of Xerdri. He lifted his head to scan the sky, 
alive as usual with the wings of messenger birds, and saw 
a large group of ravens hovering to the west. He sighed 
gustily and began to run. He had indeed kept them waiting 
too long.
    He slid from the edges of the crowd and nearly 
collided with Xerdri. She sniffed at him and motioned 
upward. Maruss tilted back his head and drew breath, 
meeting the shiny black eyes of the lead raven squarely. 
It took some doing to look up at birds with such keen 
intelligence and sharp claws, not to mention a wingspan 
longer than he was tall.
    "In the name of the Annihilators," he said formally, 
"and of the most gracious Goddess of Evil Music, Tirosina, 
I give you welcome and bid you land." So I can settle this 
quickly and go argue with Xerdri.
    The lead raven bowed his head. "In the name of our 
Lady Goddess, we accept your greeting." He looked over his 
shoulder and nodded, and the ravens began to fall like a 
black whirlwind of dead leaves. Nearly all landed before 
him and stood as if awaiting an order, but the lead raven 
landed on Maruss's arm. Folding those six-foot wings, he 
gazed at the slight curalli dispassionately.
    "What would you have us do?"
    "Carry messages," Maruss replied at once. He might not 
be good at greetings, but he was all right when it came to 
the practical side of things. "The panbirae-" his gaze 
went to the panther-headed golden eagles spreading out in 
all directions "-are swift and loyal, but not intelligent. 
You are, and are far swifter and have your Goddess's 
blessing beside."
    "All that is true," said the raven, apparently taking 
none of it for flattery, which Maruss had not intended it 
to be. "What of it? I had thought we were to help you in 
your attacks."
    "Most of you will. But a few important messages-"
    "We will not object to," said the bird, apparently 
guessing Maruss's question before he could ask it. "Do not 
fear about offending us. We have been called many evil 
things, that is true, but-" He smiled. "We have remained 
free, have we not, when all the other races were 
enslaved?"
    Maruss bowed his head to acknowledge the point. A 
unicorn had never bothered to gaze at a raven and find out 
if it were intelligent. Only one of the Empire's many 
mistakes, in Maruss's opinion, but an important one. "I 
need messages sent to only a few people: my foster sister 
Elenyi, the churni Beryl Daydark, and the alalori Aeren, 
among others."
    The raven was nodding in recognition, but glanced 
longingly over his shoulder when Maruss was done. "If you 
don't mind, I see food over there. It has been a long 
flight. Could this discussion wait until after we have 
eaten?"
    "Of course." Maruss tossed the raven aloft, and he 
flew over the heads of his people, crying out. They 
followed, towards the carrion that Maruss had prepared 
several days ago- drained silver unicorn corpses. There 
was no other use for them.
    "Speaking of which, have you had any dawnmeal?" Xerdri 
was standing beside him, looking at him closely.
    "How could I have?" Maruss snapped. "You woke me up, 
and we came straight here. I should think you would be 
more worried about yourself."
    Xerdri smiled, her pale blue fangs, short now, 
glittering in the weak sunlight. "Oh, no. In an encampment 
as large as this, no one connects a few disappearing 
dreams to one nightmare Elwen. I have feasted well." She 
slipped an arm around his shoulders, leaning her head 
against him. "It is you I worry about. Last night's sleep 
was your longest in how many nights?"
    "A dance," Maruss admitted. It was impossible to stay 
angry with her, no matter how hard he tried. He began to 
walk back towards the tents and bedrolls, adjusting his 
pace to that she was forced to use to keep her head 
resting on his shoulder. "And, now that you mention it, I 
am hungry."
    "Of course you are," said the xanmara logically. She 
used the same dry tone when speaking of any kind of 
nourishment; a healer by profession, she considered most 
any information necessary to health self-evident. "And I'm 
not going to let you have any of that pig swill you 
normally do. Something filling, I think, is the order of 
the day."
    "The cooks would be upset to hear you calling their 
soup 'pig swill,'" Maruss warned.
    Xerdri gave him a calm look. "Do you think I really 
care what the cooks think?"
    Maruss stifled a sigh. No, she probably didn't, at 
that.
----------------------------------------------------------
    The cooks worked not in tents, but a large open space 
from which billowing smoke was visible to anyone who cared 
to see it. The people had long since ceased to worry about 
the smoke revealing their location; they were so large 
that only a huge force of unicorns could have taken them, 
and they would have ample warning if such a force were 
coming. Maruss found the prickle the smoke still brought 
to his spine, and the sting in his eyes and lungs, well 
worth the delicious smells that drifted upward with it. 
    The kitchen- or kitchens; it was not quite clear if it 
was one or more- was a mass of ordered chaos. Cooks darted 
back and forth like birds hopping after grubs, checking on 
one of the large, mage-crafted ovens for a loaf of bread, 
poking a roasting bit of meat, or frowning suspiciously at 
a rare dessert as if thinking it would try to trick them. 
Everything here had been taken from the unicorns. The 
grain had once grown in their fields, the cattle grazed in 
their pens; the dogs that turned the spits had once been 
pampered pets. The Annihilators did not want to hurt the 
land that would be theirs again, but saw no reason not to 
help themselves to commodities.
    Maruss received a minor storm of salutes and greetings 
as he entered. Nodding and saluting in turn, occasionally 
calling a friendly word, he at last made his way- Xerdri 
hanging firmly onto his elbow- to the table where food was 
laid. Not much remained; many had already breakfasted and 
gone. Maruss shrugged and reached for a large, hot bowl of 
soup.
    Xerdri slapped his hand as if he were stealing 
something. "You need solid food in you," she said in 
determination, ignoring his offended look. She picked up 
one of the few plates remaining and began to heap it with 
meat and bread, as well as a few scrawny vegetables.
    Maruss watched politely for a moment, then asked, 
"Yours?"
    She turned to him with a hiss. "Will you stop being 
ridiculous and just do what I tell you for once, without 
argument?"
    Maruss folded his arms and leaned against the low clay 
wall that had been built to keep casually foraging animals 
away from the kitchens. "I wouldn't be Elwen if I didn't 
argue. Speaking of debate, Meljae mentioned to me last 
night that you're encouraging use of this title that I 
keep hearing. Why?"
    Xerdri nearly dropped the plate. Maruss stared at her 
for a moment, then nodded slowly. "So it is true."
    "You trust Mel more than you trust me?" Xerdri asked, 
setting the food carefully on the table. Despite the angry 
way she met his eyes, her voice shook slightly. "I'm fond 
of him, love, as a younger brother, but if he tries to 
whisper lies into your ear about me-"
    "I trust the evidence of my own eyes," Maruss retorted 
with a patient sigh, hoping she wouldn't ask in icy tones 
to have that one explained as well. "I only have one 
question, Xerdri. You know how much I hate titles- Lord is 
bad enough. Why?"
    "You deserve respect!" Xerdri heatedly replied. 
"Besides, you love truth- you're bound to honor it." She 
cast a pointed glance at the chain about his neck. "I'm 
just making sure you hear the title that should be yours, 
by right. Sooner or later, you'll come to accept it."
    Maruss's violet eyes locked with her aqua ones. Xerdri 
looked stubborn, as usual, but the calm will in his eyes 
seemed to stun her. She backed off a step and stood 
watching him mistrustfully as he said quietly, "I don't 
wish to hear it, even if it's true. I can't lie to myself 
or others, but the staroath puts no ban on others lying to 
me- if truth it is. You encouraged them to say it. You can 
encourage them to stop."
    There was a long moment of silence before Xerdri 
slowly inclined her head. Her face had lost none of her 
mulishness, but a certain awe had crept in. Maruss turned 
away before his distress could crack his own facade and 
picked up the plate of food. He figured he owed her one 
concession, at least.
    The nightmare Elwen walked quietly beside him until he 
indicated that he wanted to be alone. She halted at once, 
but he could feel her eyes on him as he made his way 
through the crowd toward the northern edge of camp. When 
the feeling of eyes disappeared, he knew she had gone to 
do as he had ordered.
    The thought nearly made him lose his appetite, but not 
quite. He really was hungry.
    Still, he continued trotting, seeking a place where he 
could sit in the peace and quiet that would become all too 
rare when the southern armies arrived.
----------------------------------------------------------
    Maruss finished the last bite of carrot and leaned 
back with a satisfied sigh. Whatever some of the 
Annihilators might grumble, the food from the unicorn 
storehouses and magical churni gardens was nearly as fine 
as if it were summer.
    The thought of slaves working to grow that fine food 
for the silverini enraged him, as always, but he tamed his 
thoughts. Now was not a time to think about such things.
    He narrowed his eyes as he stared out over the 
Falchian Plains, where Fhevu's steel-gray snow, for some 
unknown reason, never fell. The Plains spread in all 
directions, flat and featureless save for a few scattered 
boulders like the one that supported his back. He was 
miles from the encampment, but had no thought of danger. 
Indeed, the very loneliness and harshness of the land were 
things to be treasured.
    He rolled off the boulder and onto his stomach, 
closing his eyes with a leisurely yawn. He wasn't sure if 
he would sleep, but it was pleasant to lie here basking in 
the winter sun's warmth, however pale.
    "Maruss."
    The curalli snarled in irritation. Stars, couldn't 
they bear to leave him alone for an hour? What urgent 
matter needed his attention now? "Go away," he said, as he 
had said to Xerdri that morning, and rested his cheek more 
firmly on the cool, dry clay, refusing to look up.
    There was a pause, as if whoever stood there had not 
expected to be balked like this, but surprisingly, no hand 
shook his shoulder. After a moment, the calm voice 
repeated itself, this time with a hint of menace in its 
tones. "Maruss Freewind."
    "Have the moons tumbled from the sky?" the shadowed 
Elwen asked, squeezing his eyes shut until golden pictures 
danced on the insides of the lids. "If they haven't, let 
me sleep."
    "Well. I really didn't expect you to be this 
petulant."
    "Petulant!" Maruss's eyes almost popped open in 
outrage, but he remembered in time and kept them shut. "I 
want some sleep, that's all. Doesn't everybody?"
    "This will be easier than I thought," the voice said, 
as if confident he weren't listening. "Out here, alone and 
concentrating on sleep, without any of his bodyguards 
around. Perfect."
    Maruss's joy that he was actually alone warred with 
the tiny voice that whispered: Danger, idiot! But he 
continued to lie quite still.
    He smelled magic gathering in the air above him and 
immediately threw up a defensive wall. It wouldn't hold 
for long, but it deflected the lightning strike and 
allowed him to roll free and to his feet. He gripped 
Starsheen and turned to face his opponent.
    His stomach churned with a mixture of curiosity and 
fear when he saw what he confronted. A Portal, looking 
distant and more like an illusion than anything real, 
opened into a silver room. In that room stood a silverini, 
horn lifted in readiness to strike again.
    He was a rather small stallion for his kind, standing 
barely taller at the withers than Maruss's slender five 
feet. But his one silver eye- the other was covered by 
scar tissue- gleamed with over a million years of 
accumulated wisdom. A long, dark scar twined like a snake 
from the base of his neck to the top of his tail, a burn 
scar caused by the fire of a vermil, a flame Elwen.
    Destria, Emperor of the Silverini, Destroyer of 
Fhevu's Freedom, the Bane of Elwenkind, cocked his head 
and murmured, "Rather disconcerting, the way you can meet 
my eyes like that. Fate has much to answer for."
    Maruss didn't waste his breath in replying, but called 
his fate-magic. It coursed through him with nearly 
unbearable sweetness, as if his blood had turned to wine. 
A silver aura leaped, flaring and hissing, about him- the 
aura that marked him as Ellosonor, the Bane of Silver.
    Destria's smile widened. "Flare all you like, Maruss."
    "What does that mean?" the curalli asked quietly, and 
wondered if the expression on his face was one of awe, 
scorn, or fear. Perhaps all three. All he knew was that 
voice and gaze both remained steady.
    Destria's smile faded slightly, as if Maruss had again 
disappointed him in some undefinable way; then he shrugged 
elaborately. The grin returned, looking more like a cut in 
his throat than an expression of mirth. "You see, I am not 
really here. I have brought myself close enough to strike 
at you, but you might as well try to hurt a ghost. If 
there were any real danger, the Portal would close up 
around me and transport me back to the real world."
    Damn, Maruss thought, frustrated. His deception- 
detecting ability assured him there was a lie in that 
somewhere, but he couldn't pinpoint the statement. He 
wondered which one he most wanted to believe was false. 
His stomach twisted sickeningly. If Destria could strike 
anywhere he liked, at any time, without being touched 
himself...
    A trumpet-like voice, a near-perfect imitation of 
Destria's, rang from behind him. "That is a lie, Father!"
    Maruss would have whirled, a cry of thanks on his 
lips, had he not thought it dangerous to take his eyes off 
Destria. As it was, the expression on the Emperor's face 
was almost worth it. His eyes bulged; his mouth dropped 
open before he caught himself and shut it with a click. He 
whinnied unknown words in the silverini tongue; Maruss 
suspected they were a curse.
    Jierran stepped boldly forward, but even in this 
moment of crisis he moved as if dancing. His horn was 
pointed straight up in challenge; his violet eyes burned, 
as no one save Maruss, who was immune to the silver 
unicorn gazepower, was around to see. Destria's son had 
first joined the ranks of the Annihilators a year ago, but 
apparently he could still surprise his father.
    But the next words Destria whinnied cleared up much in 
Maruss's mind. "You're dead!" the Emperor screamed 
hysterically, rising up to paw at whatever invisible 
barrier separated them, as if he would break through and 
make his words truth. "You're dead!"
    Jierran cocked his head in an amused way, but Maruss 
could feel his sudden tension. Jierran very nearly had 
been slain by his mad mother Kumota, Destria's wife. 
Kumota had, in the end, been destroyed in a fire that had 
also taken Dollin Daydark, heir to the throne of a churni 
Klaina. "Your messengers must be missing many details, 
Father."
    "Traitorous son," Destria hissed, almost vibrating 
with anger and fear. "Ungrateful child. May you writhe 
forever in the silver starfire of Elwen damnation!" He 
reared again, and his horn began to pulse with an odd, 
unnatural light, half-blue and half-silver. He lowered his 
head, and the flaming ball skidded past the invisible 
barrier and toward them.
    Jierran had already bowed his horn and dropped to his 
knees in the dirt. The fireball was aimed at Maruss 
anyway, who dropped and rolled with Elwen agility. He 
expected another after that and tensed to leap up, but 
nothing happened. The only sound was the distant crackle 
of a fire; Destria's magic must have found something to 
feed on after all.
    Cautiously, Maruss raised his head. Destria and the 
warped Portal were gone. Jierran was just rising, staring 
at the space where his father stood and muttering under 
his breath.
    "What part of it was a lie?" Maruss asked him right 
off, knowing Jierran would know more than he did. The 
young unicorn- young by the standards of his immortal 
race, anyway- had the Portal-gift, and very little about 
those doorways that traversed mighty distances in a step 
was not known to him.
    Jierran answered absently, occasionally punctuating 
his sentences with mumbles in the silverini tongue too low 
for Maruss to make out. "He could perhaps strike from 
where he was standing and not be hurt, but he has to spare 
much magic to keep the bent Portal under control. He 
cannot go anywhere a Portal does not exist, and whatever 
he might believe, the Portal would close up at the release 
of his control, whether or not there is danger."
    Maruss nodded in relief. Their enemy was still not 
invincible, then. They still might win this war. But 
already his mind was clicking down a different track. "Do 
you know what he uses for his messenger service?"
    "Panbirae," said Jierran with a shrug. "Nothing fancy. 
Occasionally he will telepathically contact a unicorn and 
search his mind, but that takes so much strength that he 
is weak for days afterward."
    Maruss nodded. "And these panbirae must, as you said, 
be poor if their messages told him you were dead." He felt 
a smile broaden across his face. It would take magic, but 
would be worth it. "I think I have another use for the 
ravens."
    "Who," Jierran said dryly, "are waiting impatiently 
for you in the center of camp. I was sent to tell you. If 
you are quite finished?" He looked at the tray in silent 
question.
    Maruss silenced a sigh. His quiet time gone, ruined. 
But there were some things a leader must do. He picked up 
the platter. "I'm coming."
----------------------------------------------------------
    On reaching the outskirts of camp, Maruss angled 
toward the kitchens to drop off his plate, ignoring 
Jierran's scandalized look. Of course, somebody else could 
have done it for him, and the ravens wouldn't have had to 
wait as long. But why should he ask someone to do it, when 
he could?
    He placed the plate on the table, turned to leave, and 
found his path blocked by an anxious crowd. Kindal was 
among them, leaning on a spear and pinning Maruss with an 
even gaze that seemed to read his thoughts as much as his 
face. Meljae was there too, and Geruth, his sunset Elwen 
foster brother, and-
    Maruss stifled a low groan as two faces seemed to pop 
out of the crowd at him. Xerdri was there, the expression 
on her face warring between a flushed scowl and one of 
horrified worry. She looked as if she wanted 
simultaneously to thrash and hug him- both of which would 
come sooner or later.
    Jesartlu was almost worse. The blue-haired land Elwen, 
dark eyes even more intent than Kindal's, strode toward 
him and halted a bare three feet away. Maruss's second-in- 
command wore a cloak pulled close to shield him from the 
wind, but the lowered cowl did not hide the dangerous 
expression on his face. "Where have you been?" he asked, 
the words so clipped that little or no emotion was 
expressed.
    "Eating my meal in peace," Maruss retorted. "Now, if 
you will excuse me, Jierran has informed me that I have 
kept the ravens waiting. I wish to go apologize." He 
started to push past, but Jes caught his arm.
    Maruss sensed a stir, a shift in the crowd, even if 
his friend did not. Kindal stood up straight, his face 
blank of expression but his hands a little tighter on the 
spear shaft. Jesartlu was in direct command, but Maruss 
was overall lord, one he was supposed to protect. Besides, 
Maruss thought it unlikely the death Elwen had forgotten 
his embarrassment because of Jes last night. 
    Xerdri's signs were not so open; she merely shifted a 
little so that her hair did not hang in her face. But 
there was a look in her eyes that made Maruss swallow 
hard. She would do anything, kill anyone, if she thought 
him in danger.
    "Release me, please," he requested quietly.
    Jes stared at him for a long moment. The hand holding 
Maruss trembled a little; the fingers were strong and 
straight, but the arm itself crushed, hopelessly twisted 
in the accident that had supposedly taken the land Elwen's 
life. The other hand, his sword hand, went to the hilt of 
the weapon buckled at his side. Jes was the best fighter 
in the Annihilators and could take down any challenger- 
but facing Xerdri's magic was a different matter. Still, 
Maruss knew Jes would stubbornly hang onto him until the 
end if he thought it truly important.
    The curalli felt his face grow cold. He purposely 
tilted his head, giving himself an arrogant, commanding, 
regal air. "Release me," he repeated, and this time his 
voice rang with the tone of an order.
    There seemed a long hiss of pent-up breath when Jes's 
hand fell from his arm, but the curalli knew it was only 
his own. The land Elwen bowed stiffly and walked away, 
mangled limb cradled like a baby at his side.
    Maruss shook his head sadly. Lately, he and Jes had 
been having more and more differences of opinion. If 
Maruss wanted to attack a particular minald, Jes wanted to 
avoid it, and vice versa. The curalli wondered at times if 
his second-in-command was simply disagreeing to disagree, 
but always he had to consider that the fault might lie in 
himself. 
    He feared the confrontation that would happen one of 
these days. Jes couldn't hold his boiling temper in chains 
forever. And then...
    Maruss pushed such gloomy thoughts from his mind. He 
turned calmly to regard the crowd, but they were already 
dispersing. He realized, with a shock, that they had all 
come either to support Jes or to make sure Jes didn't hurt 
him. He closed his eyes. Stars, they could not afford to 
have the army divided now.
    When he looked again, Xerdri was standing in front of 
him. She tilted back her head and regarded him silently, 
one brow lifted.
    "Until this matter is cleared up," she said quietly, 
"I think it would be a bad idea for you to leave my side. 
A very bad idea."
    Maruss nodded agreement and followed her toward the 
center of camp. Around him, he could hear the buzz of 
gossip beginning, feel the speculative eyes, and wanted to 
simply melt.
    Why had they chosen him as leader? He didn't belong 
here. He didn't have the right temperament, a large enough 
amount of courage, a...
    Xerdri's hand took his arm, and though she said 
nothing, he drank down her silent comfort as if it were 
the wine he so rarely touched. That done, he began to 
consider rationally what he would say to the ravens.
    And tried to keep Jes's face from intruding.
----------------------------------------------------------
    The ravens had taken to the perches set up for them as 
if they had been living there all their lives. The lead 
raven wheeled up at the sight of Maruss and executed an 
odd gesture in midair that might have been a raven bow. 
Maruss bowed back, and the black bird circled down to sit 
on his arm. The other carrion-eaters settled on their 
perches, and an expectant silence began.
    "I have had another idea," Maruss announced, after the 
clearing had become totally silent. "A friend of mine 
tells me that Destria's messenger system consists largely 
of panbirae. If a spell were put on our own panbirae to 
distinguish them from the others, would you be agreeable 
to attacking any panther-bird carrying a message?"
    There was a flurry of cackles and caws among the 
ravens. Maruss understood much of their tongue, but these 
had a strange accent. He did manage to catch general 
agreement, however. The lead raven nodded his head, wicked 
black eyes sparkling.
    "Good." Maruss released his breath in a rush again and 
reached into the pocket of his tunic. Earlier, he had 
smelled parchment and a quill there, as well as a small 
bottle of goldu, golden flower-ink. He cast a grateful 
smile at Xerdri, who smiled back, smug as always.
    Maruss closed his eyes, composing in his mind. He knew 
the ravens might well be able to memorize the message and 
carry it in their heads, but he wanted to write it down at 
least once. After a moment he opened his eyes, dipped the 
quill in the ink, and began to write.

    My dearest sister,
    I hope you are well, and everyone who managed to 
escape with you. I know you probably never expected to 
hear from me again after the Shattering, but I am alive 
and have gained help in the northern province known as 
Fhevu. We are currently encamped on the Falchian Plains, 
to the west of the River Eluvorwave. Please come with all 
haste. We have so much to catch up on. I love you.
    Maruss.

    He read it aloud to several ravens until they had it 
memorized, then composed messages to Beryl Daydark, the 
heir to the Daydark throne with Dollin gone, and Aeren, 
who had once been leader of the Touched Annihilators, 
those possessing strange mental gifts. He wished he could 
send letters to more, but he was unsure how many had 
survived the Shattering, which had killed so many 
Annihilators and scattered the survivors. Still, there was 
one more person who should receive a letter, ill-pleased 
though he would be.
    "Are any of you allowed in Inviolate Forest?" he asked 
the lead raven. "I know the eluvor priests dislike black 
things, but I need to ask them once more if they will help 
me."
    "I doubt you'll win that help," murmured the raven, 
"not unless their Tree commands them to go forth to 
battle. But with the blessing of the goddess, I, at least, 
can go anywhere. Give me your message."
    Maruss bowed his head. "To High Priest Ruver, 
greetings. Your son is alive and safe. Your daughter, I 
regret to report, is dead. She was possessed by a unicorn 
who killed her soul and shed her body. However, the 
unicorn is also dead. I will ask one more time for your 
help. I cannot compel you to give it, but I hope you will 
ask Rodollen for counsel. Thank you. Maruss Freewind." He 
opened his eyes and looked up at the raven to make sure he 
knew it.
    The raven nodded, but there was a faraway look in his 
eyes. "Do you think he will wish to hear of his daughter's 
death?" he asked abruptly. "Especially when she died so 
horribly?"
    "He must know she followed us," Maruss said soberly. 
"He would be suspicious if I did not speak of what 
happened to her- and I would not hide the truth even if I 
could." He rose and again bowed his head, this time to the 
raven. "Thank you. You have all been a great help."
    "But we will be an even greater if those of us with 
messages leave immediately." The lead raven smiled 
crookedly and bowed his head in turn. "Farewell, Maruss 
Freewind. I will do my best to enter Inviolate Forest. 
Goddess give strength to your wings." He sprang upward.
    "Wait!" Maruss called, astonished. The hovering raven 
looked down at him inquiringly. "Do you not wish another 
day to rest? You mentioned it was a long flight to get 
here."
    "It was, but we had chosen beforehand those who would 
be messengers," the raven replied. "We got the best food 
and the longest sleep! I am fine." He rose, and the other 
black birds bearing messages followed him.
    "The black stars sing your praises and the darkness 
guide and guard you," Maruss whispered in return, an 
ancient curalli farewell. He wanted to watch until they 
were borne out of sight like so many black rose petals, 
but Xerdri touched his arm. He turned to see a harried- 
looking land Elwen hurrying toward him, waving a piece of 
paper that looked like a map.
    With a sigh, Lord Maruss Freewind made his way back to 
his duties.
----------------------------------------------------------
    Five days later, Maruss felt as if every muscle in his 
body would rip at any moment. He gingerly stepped around a 
rock and stared up at the moons, not caring for the noise 
of merriment behind him.
    The bright light of the heavenly orbs stung his eyes, 
but he did not look away until his lids began to droop. He 
rubbed wearily at them with a fist. He could not sleep 
now, much as he would like to. Scouts had reported a large 
group coming in from the south, and he had to wait to 
welcome them or sound the alarm as need be. He wondered 
why he had volunteered, when he had had little sleep since 
the ravens' departure. Sheer stubbornness, he supposed. 
    He sat on the rock he had stepped around too suddenly 
for his liking. Trying to ignore the leaden ache in his 
muscles, he stared south. The Plains still lay as calm and 
gray as his own drowsiness in the moonlight.
    He felt his eyes creeping closed, and jerked himself 
upright. Elwens could do without sleep for a dance, and he 
suspected more of his sleepiness was due to weapons 
practice with Jesartlu and the sleeping draughts Xerdri 
constantly slipped into his food than to simple fatigue.
    He heard light footsteps behind him, but did not turn. 
He had recognized the scent, pure and free. Oddly enough, 
it had always seemed like the scent of a breeze to him, 
though air had none. He turned to smile at Xerdri, who 
smiled back. In her hands she carried two cups of water, 
one of which she held out toward him.
    "Drink," she said softly.
    Trying to ignore the fact that his throat felt like 
the Plains, Maruss stared suspiciously at the slightly 
milky water. In such a drink, a sleeping draught would 
knock him out immediately. He lifted accusing eyes to 
Xerdri's face. She looked as haggard as he, but she had 
refused to sleep until she was sure that he was resting 
comfortably.
    "I didn't put anything in it except something to make 
you relax," the xanmara healer said in a slightly 
irritated voice. "The deathtrotters don't want anything 
fancy messing up the purity of their water. Drink now," 
she added, placing the cup in his unresisting hands.
    Maruss did, and eagerly. Xerdri took a few slow 
swallows, then tipped what remained into his cup. Maruss 
looked at her sharply, but she shrugged. "I've had plenty 
to drink."
    "You certainly have," the curalli said dryly, for the 
first time smelling the fumes of wine on her breath. He 
lifted his cup to drink, then realized she hadn't 
responded. Placing the cup down, he looked at her, not 
liking the silent way her aqua eyes studied him. "Xerdri?" 
he questioned softly.
    The nightmare Elwen flung her cup down so sharply that 
a long crack marred the clay. She jumped to her feet, 
shaking with fear or anger, and stared down at him. Maruss 
stared back, drinking as he listened to her words.
    "Maruss, you have to stop pushing yourself so hard. No 
problem is so urgent that it can't wait until you've had a 
few hours' sleep. It's simply that these fools think their 
problems are that important, and have convinced you they 
are."
    Maruss tried to respond, but a yawn cracked his jaws 
as Xerdri's throw had cracked the cup. Xerdri nodded in 
satisfaction. "You see?" Her face was a mixture of 
smugness and worry now. She sat back down and took his 
hand. "For the past two days you've been eating whatever 
is set in front of you. Someone wanted to put dead beetles 
there once, sure you wouldn't notice. I found the culprit 
in time, but you wouldn't have noticed, would you?"
    "That's not-" another yawn "-the point. I'll rest as 
soon as everything is taken care of, Xerdri." It seemed to 
comfort him just to have Xerdri near. His muscles seemed 
to be melting into a warm, flowing jelly, and it was only 
natural to have his eyes shut.
    Xerdri gave a little chuckle. "That group coming in 
from the south won't be here for hours. Time enough for 
you to sleep."
    "You said it was just something to make me relax!" 
Maruss tried to open his eyes and glare at her, but all 
his muscles felt like water. "I knew you were up to no- no 
good-"
    "Oh, really?" Xerdri asked softly. "This is the best 
thing I could have done for you." She smiled suddenly. 
"And I wasn't lying. I said it was something to make you 
relax. I didn't know how far." There was relief in her 
voice.
    Maruss felt himself eased off the rock and onto the 
ground like a sack of meal, but he was too tired to 
protest. He rolled away as a tide of sleep came to claim 
him, wondering what kind of dreams he would have.
    And silently vowing to pay Xerdri back for this.
----------------------------------------------------------
    He couldn't believe how dark it was here, how 
comfortable. He seemed cradled in a dark sea, a black 
cocoon whose rippling folds sang to him. He rolled deeper 
into the dream- for dream he knew it was. No place real 
could be this black, this peaceful.
    For the first time he could remember since the war 
began, he felt truly at ease. Not anxious, excited, 
joyful, eager, angry, or in pain. Simply cradled, 
protected, lulled in a softness he had not known since he 
left the dell. He didn't need to think about anything, or 
do anything save sleep. It was wonderful.
    Somewhere in the distance, voices were calling, 
singing. He listened to them drowsily. He didn't have to 
answer unless he wanted to. And at the moment, he didn't 
want to.
    He rolled over again and closed his eyes, beginning to 
breathe the deep, peaceful breaths of true sleep.
----------------------------------------------------------
    Maruss woke with tears in his eyes, though he did not 
know what from. Xerdri had apparently pushed him into a 
more pleasing position, for he lay on his side with his 
arm draped around her shoulders, her head against his 
chest. She still breathed softly; she had kept her vow.
    Maruss felt so completely relaxed that he didn't mind 
when he looked at the eastern horizon and saw it was 
almost dawn. For once, Xerdri had been right; he had badly 
needed that. No sense getting sick and delaying the army 
further.
    He had almost considered going back to sleep- indeed, 
his eyes were drifting shut- when a questing howl broke 
from the south. Maruss opened his eyes, frowning more in 
wonder than in puzzlement. He knew that voice- the voice 
of a wolf- but wolves did not come into the Falchian 
Plains. What could one be doing here?
    Abruptly, hope and joy mingled surged through his 
body. He tried to pull gently free of Xerdri, but ended up 
disturbing her. Rubbing at her eyes, she began a sleepy, 
"What-"
    Maruss had already scrambled to his feet, however, and 
was striding eagerly in the direction of that sound. 
Grumbling, she followed, combing at the tangles of her 
sea-colored mane with her fingers.
    A great, wide black line appeared on the southern 
horizon, coming like a tidal wave. But Maruss did not fear 
it was a herd of deathtrotters. He recognized the scents 
of wolves.
    More than that, he had finally recognized the voice 
that howled. He wondered if his smile would split his 
face.
    They came into view at last- distinguishable to an 
Elwen's eyes, anyway. Maruss could only shake his head in 
wonder when he felt the Plains vibrating slightly under 
his feet. There must be hundreds of wolves, perhaps even 
thousands, for the ground to shake under their paws.
    Then he could make out their leaders, and burst out 
laughing. Two huge wolves, both seven feet tall at the 
shoulder, sped at the front of the pack, swiftly 
outdistancing the other forerunners. One had silver fur 
and eyes the same color. The other bore night-blue fur 
speckled with small dots of silver like stars, and eyes as 
green-gold as sun shining through leaves. He knew them.
    In mid-stride, the huge wolves Shifted, barely pausing 
at all. Now running toward Maruss were a silver Elwen- 
there was no other way to describe him- and an Elwen woman 
with skin, hair, and eyes the same colors as the blue 
wolf's. She fixed him with that glowing gaze and let out a 
joyous howl.
    Maruss sped forward to meet her, and felt a surprised 
grunt erupt from her as he cannoned into her, knocking the 
air from her lungs. The next moment, however, she had 
seized him and sent him whirling through the air in her 
arms before she pulled him close and hugged him tightly, 
laughing and crying at the same time.
    Maruss felt tears running down his cheeks as well. 
"Elenyi," he whispered. "I've missed you."
    "We've all missed you," said a voice from the other 
side of him, and a second pair of arms grabbed him, 
tossing his slender frame easily into the air. Maruss 
recovered his feet and clasped the hand of Terling 
Wolfgarth, Elenyi's beloved and betrothed.
    "The same here," Maruss said warmly, wringing his 
hand. "I'm happier than I can say to see that you managed 
to survive. Who else is with you?"
    Terling looked over his shoulder and barked something 
in Wolven. A wolf almost as big as two Elwens trotted 
forward- a fenrir. Balanced on his back in a seat that was 
half-chair, half-basket was an elf with a map of wrinkles 
on his face and bright red hair.
    "Flame!" Maruss called, and his old friend's head 
turned toward him. The green eyes crinkled as he smiled 
radiantly, and he reached down a six-hundred-year-old hand 
to grasp Maruss's. The curalli lifted him gently to the 
ground.
    "Rough trip," said the doorwarden casually, 
surreptitiously rubbing at a few aching joints. "But it 
was worth it." Abruptly he embraced Maruss so hard that 
the shadowed Elwen's ribs creaked warningly. "Lord 
Maruss," he whispered. "It's so good to see you again."
    Maruss returned the embrace until Flame felt enough on 
his dignity to wipe his tears and stand away, and by then 
he had someone else to greet.
    "Lord Maruss?" Shyly, a red-haired wind Elwen landed 
before him. Her eyes were as green as Flame's, but peering 
out of much whiter, much younger skin. Her huge white 
wings twitched once or twice, a sure sign of nervousness. 
"Do you remember me?"
    "Of course, Filaria." Maruss offered his hand, 
returning the girl's relieved smile with a mischievous 
one. "How could I forget the woman who so tamed my 
friend's heart and softened his stoic demeanor?"
    Filaria flushed bright silver. "I don't suppose," she 
began timidly, looking over Maruss's shoulder, "that Jes 
is around?"
    "Not at the moment." Maruss silently thanked the 
stars, something he rarely did, for bringing Filaria 
safely to them. Not only for the girl's sake, but for 
Jes's. Perhaps she could again melt the ice the land Elwen 
seemed to have put in place of his heart. "But I'm sure 
he'll be here soon." Filaria nodded, flushing this time 
for a different reason, and one hand went up to straighten 
a few tangles in her sunset-bright hair.
    Abruptly he remembered Xerdri, who still stood at the 
fringes of the crowd, as if waiting to be noticed. Before 
he could speak to her, Elenyi asked excitedly, "Maruss, 
where's Phaedon? And Myyti? Sleeping?" She laughed aloud; 
neither the underground Elwen nor Maruss's other foster 
brother had been known for sleep.
    Maruss felt his joy snuffed like a candle flame. Elen 
blinked at the expression on his face. "Maruss?" she asked 
softly, uncertainly.
    "Myyti is dead," the curalli said as stoutly as he 
could. Half a year since her death, and he still could not 
say the name of the verde he had loved without a flinch, 
still could not really talk about her- even though he had 
found a new love.
    Terling looked as pale as Frigid Waste snow. Elenyi 
caught Maruss softly in her arms, staring as if he might 
disappear any moment. Her own eyes were wide and bright 
with tears; Myyti had been like an older sister to all of 
them. "I'm so sorry, Maruss," she whispered. "so sorry." 
She looked at him warily. "Are you all right now?" It was 
common practice for an Elwen to become catatonic after a 
beloved's death and slowly waste away, so great was his or 
her grief.
    "I went mad for two months," Maruss admitted, and he 
felt his sister's hand tremble on his cheek. He gripped it 
and smiled cheerfully at her. "But I recovered- thanks in 
no small part to Xerdri." He nodded to her.
    For once, the nightmare Elwen did not seem to want to 
take the credit for something he had done. She lowered her 
head, aqua eyes seeking the clay. Maruss frowned in 
puzzlement. What-
    Then he saw the way Elenyi was staring at Xerdri, all 
a wolf's deadliness in her eyes. Terling looked much the 
same way. Even Filaria and Flame appeared slightly 
shocked. Elwens remained faithful to dead loves.
    "Xerdri has saved my life," said Maruss quietly, 
drawing their attention back to him. If they had to glare, 
let them do it at him; she didn't deserve their 
punishment. "Many times, in fact. She is a healer, and she 
didn't give up until she had the truth and I was largely 
healed. She loves me, but I love her also. If there is any 
blame, it is mine." He set himself as if facing an enemy, 
not actually placing himself between his friends and 
Xerdri, but coming close.
    Elenyi looked as if she had been poleaxed, but she 
managed a few, faint, stuttering words. "You- love her?" 
In the coming light of dawn she looked utterly lost.
    Maruss inclined his head, hoping the motion didn't 
seem to have too much of a defensive snap to it. "Yes." He 
felt Xerdri make a soft sound behind him, and wondered if 
it had been one of relief or smugness. He was more than a 
little puzzled that she wasn't speaking up for herself, 
but grateful. Any defense she tried to give could only 
mire her more deeply into the mud, at least in his 
friends' eyes.
    "Well, then," Terling cut in, giving Maruss a look of 
cool pity, "I suppose there's nothing we can do, is there? 
At least you have not betrayed Myyti completely."
    Maruss curled his fingers, trying to keep the rage he 
felt at that remark inside. "What do you mean?" he ground 
out.
    "Why-" Terling cocked an eyebrow "-the young woman 
wears no betrothal collar." The glitter in his eyes said 
plainly he would not call Xerdri by her name. "So, at 
least, you plan to toss her aside when you are done with 
her and return to your true allegiance."
    For a moment Maruss simply stared, unable to convince 
himself that playful, comical Terling would say such a 
thing. Then he heard the words again, and felt the last 
cords on his temper break.
    He did not leap at the wolf Elwen, however. He would 
not use his magic against a friend- a former friend?- and 
Terling could easily best him in a physical battle. 
Besides, he didn't want to change Elenyi's hurt to fury. 
Therefore, he spoke in a voice that trembled with anger.
    "I saw Myyti after her death. Do you know what she 
said to me? First she told me I hadn't been faithful to 
her. I was sure she didn't love me anymore. Then she told 
me I must use my magic for good, for virtue, and that she 
wasn't sure if she loved me. Finally, she insisted she 
would love me if I simply rejected Xerdri and the help she 
freely offered me." He swung gleaming, enraged eyes over 
the lot of them, and was only mildly surprised to see the 
two wolkani take a step back. The other wolves, as well as 
Filaria and Flame, watched silently. "She lied to me! And 
I do love Xerdri. I have never been one to deny the truth. 
Would you have had me deny this one? I did my grieving for 
Myyti, and I'm ready to live again."
    He ended, not in a burst of breath as he had expected, 
but in a calm, quiet way. He straightened and again ran 
his eyes over them, not bothering to hide his scorn. "I 
may have broken my own principles, but I struggled all I 
could. It would have been worse if I had continued to lie. 
If you despise me for that, you are less than I thought 
you."
    There was a long silence. Xerdri spoke mentally to him 
while his foster sister and her betrothed thought of a way 
to fill it. ^Thank you. I did not know you loved me enough 
to defy your own sister.^
    Maruss glanced at her in surprise, then smiled and 
reached back to take her hand. ^She is my sister, true. 
But perhaps it's time she learned she is not my older 
sister.^
    "You have grown," Elen said simply at last, filling 
the void and recalling Maruss's wandering attention. She 
nodded, and the green-gold eyes on him glinted with 
admiration as well as tears. "You have grown much, little 
brother. I wish I had been there to guide that growth, or 
at least see it, but what is done is done." She drew a 
deep breath and spoke rapidly, softly. "Perhaps it was 
just as well you had none of my interference."
    There was a soft gasp from the wolves, echoed by 
Terling, but Maruss reached out his free hand and clasped 
Elen's gratefully. What she did, the others would follow, 
and her anger had been the hardest to bear. "Thank you," 
he murmured.
    Elenyi looked over his head at Xerdri, even though the 
nightmare Elwen was even shorter than Maruss, and said, 
"If you really do love him, I suppose that's all right."
    Xerdri flashed a grin suddenly. "Nothing could sway me 
from loving him, but you made a good try. I've heard a lot 
about you. What's your full name?"
    "Elenyi Starwolf," said the wolkani promptly, 
releasing Maruss's hand to walk over and wring Xerdri's 
wrist. "And yours?"
    "Just call me Xerdri..."
    The two wandered away, chatting amiably. Maruss nodded 
in satisfaction. Two of the most respected women in the 
Annihilator army as fast friends should set a good 
example. Even so, he was a little disgusted with himself 
at having to think of their friendship in such a way.
    He turned around and found himself face-to-face with 
Terling. The wolkani regarded him in silence for a long 
moment, then turned away. Maruss sighed. He was probably 
forgiven, but Terling could on occasion be proud, and now 
couldn't bring himself to make an apology out loud, with 
other ears listening.
    Maruss turned as a hand clasped his arm and found 
Flame standing there, bright green eyes trained on him. 
"It is very good to see you again, Lord Maruss," he said 
simply. "Very good. I don't suppose you have any doors 
that need warding?"
    Maruss smiled. "No. But I do need to introduce you to 
the rest of the army."
    For the first time, Flame's eyes seemed to take in the 
fires, tents, and motion in the distance. His eyes 
widened, and he glanced back at the patiently waiting 
wolves. "You hardly need our group, do you?"
    "Oh, yes we do," Maruss reassured him. "We currently 
have ravens, death Elwens, red unicorns, deathtrotters, a 
few silverini, and scattered groups of other races. A 
large army- but not nearly large enough to take the entire 
continent."
    Flame merely raised a brow, an invitation to explain, 
but Terling choked. "The entire continent?" he said in a 
sharp voice that hovered between surprise and disbelief. 
"Maruss, you can't be serious!"
    Maruss shrugged. "I'm as serious as I can be with the 
might of Destria's armies poised against us. Those people 
believe it, at any rate. Come, we really must find 
Jesartlu-" he darted a glance at the impatient Filaria 
"-and others. I'll explain the outlines of my basic plan 
as we go along."
----------------------------------------------------------
    The sight of the army's leader marching in with 
another army behind him inspired at first panic, then awed 
surprise. The Fhevuan Annihilators crowded around, eager 
for a glimpse of their comrades.
    The wolves, toughened by the march north and, no 
doubt, battles fought in the south, did not react 
nervously even to the sight of death Elwens. They regarded 
the tents and fires with distant, almost remote looks in 
their eyes, as if to say: Yes, this will do- barely.
    Their aloof manner and their obvious strength and 
discipline only endeared them further to the races already 
in camp. Even the few children of the families who had 
come south ran among the huge fenriri and wolkani after 
overcoming their initial fear, shrieking and laughing as 
they swung on a bushy tail or clambered onto a wolf's 
back.
    Not only wolves marched in this force of about five 
thousand, Maruss saw, but scattered Elwens and elves who 
had survived the Shattering or had been freed by Elenyi's 
forces. He sought eagerly for a familiar face, but before 
he could find one, he was distracted by a joyous shriek.
    Filaria slanted down like a diving hawk, heading 
straight for Jesartlu. The land Elwen, who had been 
walking with his head bowed over a piece of parchment that 
might have been a map, looked up in puzzlement. Then his 
eyes fell on the stooping red-haired shape, and the 
parchment fluttered to ground churned to mud by constant 
comings and goings. He froze, not even breathing or 
blinking, as if afraid his beloved would vanish if he 
moved.
    Filaria finally moved him, slamming into him so hard 
they were both nearly knocked to the ground. She wrapped 
both arms and wings around him and clung like a chimney 
swift, crying and laughing and talking all at once. Jes's 
laugh rang out as well, a deep peal of pure joy, and his 
arms slid around her. The two of them walked away 
somewhere, somehow, for a more private reunion.
    Then someone called Maruss's name, and he threw 
himself into the near-impossible task of trying to 
organize room for the wolves. Actually, the sleeping 
arrangements themselves weren't difficult; the wolven 
races preferred to sleep under the stars, and the Elwens 
and elves carried bedrolls. But as to what side of the 
camp they should be on, where they should hunt, whether 
they could risk letting the wolves go near the River 
Eluvorwave and possibly draw the attention of the 
unicorns- that was the rub. Maruss tried to finish the 
tasks both as quickly and as well as possible, but it was 
hard when there were always three new ones waiting.
    It was near sunset when he finally had an excuse to 
rest. He was examining a possible battle plan one of the 
death Elwens had drawn up incorporating the wolves when a 
fenrir appeared at his elbow. The huge silver wolf's head 
hovered three feet over his, but he waited patiently until 
Maruss had put down the plan, with a shake of his head at 
its creator, and looked up.
    The fenrir made an odd gesture with his head, not 
quite a bow, but undeniably a motion of respect. "General 
Maruss, King Terling and Queen Elenyi request that you 
attend them in their tents now."
    Maruss was so grateful for the interruption- and so 
amused at the half-outraged expression on the churni's 
face- that he didn't even mind the use of that ridiculous 
title. "As they wish," he said at once, coming to his 
feet. "If you could but show me the way-"
    The fenrir gave him an odd look, as if asking Maruss 
why he thought the wolf would do anything else, and turned 
around. The death Elwen made a strangling noise, and 
Maruss glanced back at him, firmly biting his twitching 
lips to hide his amusement. "Yes, Tethan?"
    "They- they can't order you around like that!" Tethan 
finally burst out angrily. "They're just a King and Queen, 
after all, not the Lord and Lady of a Klaina! And what 
about my battle plans?"
    Maruss didn't embarrass Tethan either by pointing out 
how ludicrous his comparison was- the Lords and Ladies of 
Klainae exercised strict authority- or by reminding him 
that he'd looked at every plan save the last one twice. 
"Sometimes one must do what one does not wish to," he said 
truthfully. Yes, all the time, whispered a snide voice in 
the back of his head. Such as looking at battle plans and 
variations of battle plans until one's head spins. "Your 
plans are good, Tethan, but we can't really decide on 
formations until we know what terrain we will be fighting 
on. A general, all-purpose plan just won't work."
    The death Elwen nodded reluctantly and began to gather 
up the paper. Maruss shook his head and followed the 
fenrir away from the rough wooden table, almost surprised 
to see night's shadows gathering. He had thought he had 
more time than that.
    "My lord," the fenrir asked respectfully, when they 
had glided through the growing darkness for some time, "do 
you wish to stop at your tent to freshen up before you see 
Their Majesties?"
    Maruss grinned as he imagined what Elenyi would do to 
any non-wolf saying that title. "I don't have a tent, but 
a trip to the pool would be nice."
    This time the fenrir gave him a very odd look, but led 
him toward the center of camp, the only source of fresh 
water for miles around. The black boulders of the 
deathtrotter Circle gleamed somehow, and yet at the same 
time seemed to swallow up radiance. Maruss walked through 
the leaning stones without fear, or even his usual awe. 
His nose had told him there was no one here.
    Kneeling before the small, perfectly round, never- 
drying pool in the center of the Circle, he scooped some 
water up in his hands and drank before splashing his face. 
The water ran with sweet coldness down his throat, with 
such purity that he felt as if he had bitten into rain. 
When he was done, he felt almost as refreshed as if he had 
had a full night's sleep. He stood and turned to go.
    To his surprise, two deathtrotters stood inside the 
Circle. He had not smelled them coming in. The black 
equines, at nine feet at the shoulder even taller than the 
fenrir, regarded him silently with eyes the color of 
molten magma. A deep chill, in stark contrast to the blaze 
of those eyes, beat outward from the sable coats and tails 
and the shroud-white manes, which as always moved 
constantly in an unfelt breeze. Maruss dipped his head 
respectfully.
    "I hope I am not disturbing you-" he began, when a 
sound made him look up. His breath caught in his throat. 
    The deathtrotters were bowing to him, legs folded 
beneath them, long necks stretched out on the clay. For a 
moment, he thought it a gesture of reverence to the 
Circle, but those scarlet eyes looked straight at him. He 
felt a cold deeper than theirs creep through him.
    "Please, rise." The words came out as a croak.
    One of the trotters looked at him even more directly. 
He recognized her now, the mare who had offered the 
shelter of the Circle to him and his companions after 
Dollin's death. -You do not command us- she said in that 
odd way deathtrotters had, as if she had rearranged the 
past, placing her words in it. It was a voice heard more 
with the body than with ears or mind. -We bow to whom we 
choose, Ellosonor. Yet ask something of us, and we will 
obey-
    Maruss clenched his fists, then abruptly leaped over 
them and ran for a gap in the stones. He could feel the 
deathtrotters pivoting to watch him, and he heard the 
voice of the mare calling to him just before he got out of 
earshot.
    -Watch yourself, Ellosonor. There are those near who 
mean you less than good-
    Maruss finally stopped running. For a moment, he 
stared at the Circle, shining darkly in the moonlight. 
Then he drew a deep breath and turned to find the fenrir 
regarding him curiously.
    "Shall we go on?"
----------------------------------------------------------
    The tent that had been set up as a general place for 
Elenyi and Terling to greet visitors was a grand thing, 
shimmering and rippling and shivering. The dark blue cloth 
was highlighted by touches of white-red, purple, and aqua 
from the hovering moons. The tent itself was at least as 
big as the Circle, and probably four times as crowded 
inside. Maruss wanted to go straight in through the open 
flap, but the fenrir insisted that formalities be 
observed. He went in to announce Maruss while the curalli 
waited outside, mentally cursing the thin gray tunic that 
Xerdri had ordered him to put on again. It looked so 
utterly pompous, if appropriately fine.
    At last, the fenrir thrust his head back into the open 
air. "You may enter, General Maruss, Lord of the 
Annihilators," he announced loudly.
    I'm going to get you for that, Elen, Maruss thought as 
he stepped into the tent. I really am. And I think I know 
the perfect way to do it.
    The tent was just as luxurious inside as it had seemed 
from outside. Cushions lay piled four deep along the 
walls, leaving the center clear so that visitors could 
walk. On the walls were hung tapestries and mirrors, no 
doubt filched from the unicorns and supported by magic. 
Someone had spread a carpet before the tent was set up, so 
that Maruss appeared to be walking not on clay but on 
thick green grass. He shook his head in amusement as he 
headed toward the two thrones at the far end of the tent. 
How they must be hating all this ceremony.
    Elenyi certainly looked a little ill-at-ease, but she 
appeared comfortable chatting with Xerdri, who sat on a 
low cushioned chair beside her. Terling darted 
disapproving glances at both the finery and at his 
betrothed's companion. Still, he did his best to smile 
heartily at Maruss.
    The curalli stopped about four paces from the dais, an 
ugly, ornate golden thing, holding the thrones. Kneeling- 
but only on one knee; his Elwen pride would not permit him 
to abase himself even for a joke- he bowed his head. "Your 
Majesties," he whispered in mocking reverence. He could 
practically feel Elenyi's eyes on his back, and was sure 
that her face was turning several interesting shades. No 
Elwen liked power, but these two were forced to put up 
with it more than most.
    Terling's voice was both flat and somehow amused. Ever 
the trickster himself, he could appreciate it in others. 
"Rise." Maruss did not doubt that he spoke because his 
betrothed was too choked with rage. The shadowed Elwen 
complied with the demand at once, however, eyes dancing. 
He snuck one look at Elenyi, then let his eyes fall. Her 
eyes promised several things in return.
    Elenyi clapped her hands several times, never taking 
her eyes from her foster brother. "Silverchase," she said, 
when the fenrir looked up expectantly, "bring us some 
wine, and then leave us, please."
    Maruss dipped his head and raised a brow, silently 
acknowledging that she had won that round. He hated 
drinking wine- hated most liquors save the mild one called 
honeyberry- but he could not refuse and seem polite, 
especially in front of a servant like Silverchase. The 
fenrir was already gone from the tent, no doubt to fetch 
the drinks with his own paws.
    Maruss flashed a grin and pulled together a pile of 
several cushions to lounge on. He heard Xerdri's smothered 
chuckle and glanced at her, but the xanmara, already 
holding a wine glass, had raised it to her lips to hide 
her smile.
    "Now," said Elenyi, dismissing the silent competition 
of embarrassment as if it had never been, "we called you 
here for a purpose." She looked at Terling, who nodded, 
carefully keeping his eyes on Maruss and off Xerdri. "We 
want to talk about what has happened since we parted- 
things that we couldn't mention in a meeting planning for 
the war. Do you want to start, or shall we? Ours is likely 
the shorter tale."
    Maruss nodded agreement, first glancing at Xerdri, who 
only seemed interested in her wine cup. At that moment, 
Silverchase entered, walking proudly with a clay tray 
firmly balanced on his broad back. So straight and smooth 
did he walk that not a drop spilled out of the four 
delicate glass cups sitting there. Maruss eyed the dark 
red color of the liquid distastefully. One of the most 
potent wines, though he couldn't recall its name. Well, he 
simply wouldn't drink it.
    "You must have raided a few minalds successfully," he 
remarked wryly to Elenyi. He let his eye take in the wine 
as well as the carpet, cushions, dais, and other luxuries.
    "Say rather that our subjects raided them for us," 
Terling remarked. "Yes, thank you, Silverchase." He 
accepted the goblet the fenrir offered him with a nod, as 
did Elenyi. Maruss tried to conceal his discomfort when 
the huge wolf bowed deeply before letting him take his 
drink. He had had more than enough bowing for one day.
    After Xerdri had been served, Silverchase retreated, 
closing the tent flap as he did so. Elen and Terling 
exchanged smiles. "He is discreet," Elenyi murmured as she 
sipped at the wine. "A valuable trait."
    Maruss, setting the goblet beside him untouched, 
surreptitiously studied his sister and her beloved. They 
had changed slightly, acquiring a certain formality of 
manner. They did not seem stiff, but rather proud without 
being arrogant, commanding without seeming unnatural. 
Maruss hid a satisfied smile in his hand. Of course, Elen 
and Terling had not chosen to become Queen and King of 
their respective Wolf-homes, but if they had to accept 
such positions of power, they might as well adapt to it.
    "I fear we have little left to be King and Queen of," 
Elen was saying ruefully. Her eyes sparkled with something 
that might have been tears, but she lifted her wine cup so 
swiftly that Maruss could not be sure. He had heard the 
catch in her throat, however.
    "What do you mean?" he asked gently.
    "Elenyi and Terling-" Terling said, naming the Wolf- 
homes, then stopped. He stared sightlessly at the floor, 
as if he could not bring himself to say words he knew he 
must utter.
    Maruss could guess what those words were. "Are lost?" 
he asked quietly.
    Terling nodded, and Elenyi made a strangling little 
sound. The silver wolf Elwen put a comforting hand on 
hers, and kept his eyes on her face as he went on, as if 
the sight of his betrothed would let him say what he must. 
"The unicorns did not simply destroy them and withdraw, as 
they did with Sweptoromaru. The silverini remain, walking 
in our forests, eating our grass, drinking from our 
streams-" His fist clenched so tightly that the delicate 
goblet he held shattered, causing silver blood to ooze 
free.
    The tension broke with the glass. The wolkani both 
began to cry softly, no doubt releasing tears they had 
held imprisoned since the loss of their homes, the homes 
they had created. Xerdri stirred uneasily and looked at 
the tent flap. "Should I summon Silverchase?"
    Maruss shook his head and walked over to the pair, 
laying his hands gently on Elenyi's blue, silver-tinted 
hair. She stopped shuddering and sobbing as he summoned 
golden strength from his own reserves of spirit and life- 
force and poured it into her, healing mental and emotional 
wounds alike. In return, he took her pain into himself.
    He flinched as he saw silver unicorns, glowing with a 
foul radiance, plunging through the varied forests and 
over the night-blue grass of Elenyi. Bathed in the deep 
blue beams of an artificial sun created from a small ball 
of solidified song, the unicorns enslaved wolves with 
their gazes, then drove their new toys against their own 
comrades. The air filled with clouds of silver as Elenyi 
silversang with all her might, healing the slaves' 
shattered minds- until the unicorns fit earplugs into the 
slaves' ears.
    Maruss fell back, his hands lifting from Elenyi's head 
as he stared at her in shock. The wolf Elwen, looking 
exhausted but no longer crying, nodded wearily as she 
scrubbed tears away. "Yes. They had earplugs, and-" She 
paused, swallowing.
    Terling had also recovered himself, without need for 
Maruss's spiritgiving. He gave his betrothed a wry look. 
"If you can't say it, Elen, I will." He turned to face 
Maruss. "Elwensbane."
    Maruss felt his skin crawl. He had once before felt 
the touch of a crossbow bolt tipped with the sticky green 
sap of the plant, and it had not been a- pleasant 
experience. If he had not been important to fate, he would 
have died. He swallowed himself, trying to ignore the 
remembered sensations of his blood catching fire and his 
skin becoming spongy. "How many were killed?" he asked 
softly.
    "About a hundred in my Wolf-home," Terling answered. 
"About fifty in Elenyi. I don't know." He smacked his palm 
against his knee. "If we hadn't thought to create escape 
tunnels, none of us would be alive." He looked at Maruss 
with a half-smile. "As it is, we have news that should 
cheer you. Another army of about four thousand comes 
behind us. Survivors of the Shattering, mostly. They'll be 
here in about a dance."
    Maruss inclined his head, feeling his eyes sparkle, 
but did not pursue the topic. "But I thought we were 
speaking of things that we would not hear in a war 
committee," he said teasingly. Silently, he asked Elen, 
^Are you all right?^
    She smiled and telepathed back, ^Yes, thanks to you.^ 
Drawing a long, shaky breath, she said lightly, "Yes. So 
let's start talking."
----------------------------------------------------------
    They spoke until Maruss finally decided to take a few 
sips of wine after all, to moisten his throat. After 
Elen's and Terling's tale- mostly one of attacking minalds 
until the destruction of the Wolf-homes forced them to 
flee north- Maruss told his. He found it hard to tell of 
his madness and attempts at suicide, but firmed his voice 
and spoke on when he came to the difficult parts. In a 
way, it was a relief to exorcise those dark bits at last. 
He even managed to tell of killing Myyti after Destria 
resurrected her. Terling winced at that, and looked at the 
shadowed Elwen with a little more sympathy.
    Xerdri insisted that she tell her own version of their 
journey to Seafar after their escape from Inviolate, as 
well as their sojourn in the Klaina. She held his hand 
while doing it, ostensibly to comfort him, but really to 
squeeze it sharply when he tried to contradict anything 
she said. Fuming silently, Maruss listened to himself 
painted as a stubborn fool who refused to listen to reason 
and constantly hurt the gentle, clever heroine of the 
story, Xerdri. At last, he admitted he had loved her all 
along- which I didn't, Maruss seethed- and Xerdri won out.
    It did not help the curalli's temper to note that his 
sister and Terling nodded gravely at everything that was 
said, eyes twinkling with some inner amusement the while. 
When he told his own side, they began exchanging smiles as 
if they knew the truth and were humoring a child.
    Xerdri sniffed and interrupted with strangled sounds 
throughout his tale, which further soured his mood. He 
ended talking through clenched teeth as he described 
Dollin's death and the persuasion of the Klainae to their 
one reluctant cousin to join Maruss.
    As if on cue, he heard a recognized, if not 
necessarily loved, voice outside the tent. Silverchase's 
deep tones overwhelmed the other's words after a moment. 
"I am sorry, but it is not just anybody who enters the 
tent of Queen Elenyi and King Terling. General Maruss is 
not yet finished with his audience, in any case."
    "I am not just anybody," came the cold response. "I am 
Lady Sunchet Daydark, and I have come to tell General 
Maruss Freewind that my son has returned. If you do not 
move, wolf, a touch of my hand will turn you to ashes."
    Maruss, seeing the two royal personages exchange 
startled, disbelieving glances, nodded to assure them it 
was true. By touch or gaze, a churni could cause death. He 
stood hastily and moved to the flap, hoping he hadn't 
drunk enough wine to completely cloud his wits.
    Pulling the flap aside proved difficult, for 
Silverchase was sitting on it. He finally tugged it aside 
and stepped out, only to find himself facing the jaws of 
an angry fenrir.
    Maruss raised calming hands. "It's all right, 
Silverchase. She really does need to talk to me."
    Sunchet nodded emphatically as she stepped around the 
huge wolf. She was oddly beautiful, with blue eyes the 
brilliance if not the exact color of lightning and silver 
hair that seemed to net every stray strand of starlight. 
Her neatly wound strips of black leather and smooth dark 
skin, broken here and there by pools of sable liquid, were 
no different than those of any other death Elwen, but the 
two guards hovering at her shoulder, if nothing else, 
proclaimed her status.
    Sunchet fixed him with eyes that, for the moment, were 
as cold and emotionless as her late son's. "You said you 
wished to be notified when Beryl had returned." She spoke 
in clipped tones, as if whether or not Maruss listened 
didn't really matter. "I still do not favor the thought of 
making a sha'sheerin the future ruler of Daydark, but I 
have no other Heir. You were the one who recommended him, 
so it is fitting you witness the Confirmation."
    This was an honor Maruss had never expected. "Lady," 
he said, when he could get his tongue working again, "it 
would be my pleasure. But I thought that only death Elwens 
were allowed-"
    "In ordinary times," Sunchet cut him off, a tiny, 
humorless smile touching her dark lips. "In ordinary 
times, true, it is among the most private of our 
ceremonies. But these are hardly ordinary times." She cast 
her eye over the camp, looking especially at the dark blue 
tent, as if that said it all.
    Maruss nodded in agreement. No race save the churni 
and a few others had known "ordinary times" for a very 
long time. "The other churni are in agreement with this?" 
he asked, to make sure.
    Sunchet gave him an exasperated look that quickly 
turned challenging. "All the churni," she said, eyes 
intent on Maruss's face, "that can be counted as people."
    Maruss opened his mouth to object, then closed it 
tightly. Beryl was the only sha'sheerin who had ever run 
away; even the servants accepted the ancient tale the 
churni told, about a curse that had put the Taint on them. 
Any churni born with eyes of a mixed color- Beryl's were 
aqua, for example- did not have the most valued of the 
churni abilities, that which raised the dead. All his 
objections had not given any sha'sheerin the spark of 
courage Beryl had gained, and he was star-taken if he 
would be drawn into an argument now.
    "Lead the way, Lady Sunchet," he said instead.
    The churni smiled and beckoned to her guards, then 
turned her back on him with a scornful flip of her long 
silver mane. Her protectors did not glance at Maruss; it 
had not taken them long to realize the curalli was not the 
kind of person to plant a knife in their ruler's back, 
however grievous the insult she gave him. They glided like 
sinuous snakes to either side of her, eyes darting coolly 
about as they watched for danger.
    Reluctantly, Maruss followed.
----------------------------------------------------------
    As he reached the edge of camp, he saw the light of a 
huge bonfire ahead. Sunchet and her guards had somehow 
melted into the flood of churni going the same way, but 
Maruss had no difficulty following her. Other death Elwens 
glanced at him and bowed, pointing out the distant gleam 
of silver hair silently. The curalli at last swallowed and 
kept his eyes on the sky. He knew he looked arrogant, but 
it was better than watching the bowing.
    The death Elwens had formed a huge, loose ring about 
the fire, and Maruss thought that if not every churni was 
there, the total at least came close. He saw Tethan, 
standing with his Klaina, Darkhand, his face totally 
changed. It looked solemn, now, as if he had never smiled 
or laughed. Maruss wandered around looking for a place.
    Abruptly Kindal stepped in front of him. "You are 
welcome to join the Deepen Klaina, General," the guard 
invited. He looked satisfied at this prospect, since it 
would keep Maruss firmly under his eye.
    Mentally wincing at the title, Maruss shook his head 
with a grateful smile. "No, thank you, Kindal. I should 
probably stand with the Daydark. I-"
    "Maruss!"
    The curalli recognized the scent and swung around in 
pleased greeting, ignoring Kindal's sudden stiffness and 
look of disgust. Beryl Daydark, bright blue-green eyes 
gleaming in his dark face, stretched out a hand and 
clasped his. Maruss wrung his wrist once, then dropped it 
and looked Beryl over approvingly. He seemed to have done 
well for himself.
    Sunchet's son no longer wore the uncomfortable white 
garments of a sha'sheerin, as he had most of his life. 
Now, carefully wound strips of black leather made him look 
as regal as any other churni. His eyes still bore 
something of an overly proud flash, as if he remembered 
his days of servitude and wanted to bear up under the eyes 
of those now his peers. Still, there were worse traits.
    "I am given to understand that you recommended me for 
this," the new Heir-to-be remarked as they moved toward 
the gathering of Daydark nobles, guards, and servants. 
Maruss glanced warily at him, but he did not seem upset. 
Still, the curalli answered slowly.
    "Yes. Forgive me, but I think you'll do well. Did you 
want it?"
    Beryl shrugged, then scratched beneath one piece of 
leather as if it had irritated him. "That doesn't really 
matter, does it? If nothing else, I can take it as a 
revenge on Mother."
    Maruss lowered his head to hide the expression on his 
face. Moments before he had died in the fire that also 
killed Destria's wife, Dollin had shouted something 
defiant in the churni tongue. Maruss feared he had died 
because he did not want to rule. The curalli could 
understand, but seeing Sunchet's grief over her son had 
not helped.
    They finally reached the Daydark side of the circle- 
literally, for the circle seemed to become more angular as 
it expanded. Sunchet was standing in the center of the 
ring, one hand a few feet above the bonfire's flames. She 
stood motionless as a statue, as if frozen in the act of 
calling something forth from the fire. Beryl slipped and 
wriggled through tight-packed churni to join her, while 
Maruss took a position that put him on the fringes of the 
crowd but allowed him to see.
    Beryl, after at last slipping into the open, slowed 
his pace and strode proudly forward. He did not look to 
left or right, though most of the gazes that followed him 
were disapproving. He halted exactly six strides from his 
mother, on the other side of the bonfire, his arms as 
stiff and straight at his sides as a corpse's. The flicker 
of the fire painted the dark planes of his face with odd 
shadows and sparked in the eyes for which he had been 
named.
    For long moments, there was only the crackle of the 
flames and the muted sounds of heartbeats and breathing to 
disturb the stillness that settled over the circle. Maruss 
felt the solemnity and ceremony begin to lull him almost 
into a hypnotic trance. His eyes half-closed, his 
breathing deepened.
    Then, with a sharp crack that nearly made the curalli 
let out a yell, Sunchet threw down something she had been 
holding. It burst into flames on touching the ground, 
creating a smaller fire in the shadows of the larger. The 
small fire licked hungrily at anything it could reach, 
finally touching a tiny pile of sticks and dead grass 
Maruss had not noticed. It caught, and seemed to reach 
tiny red hands toward the sky, as if aspiring to be as big 
as its parent. The churni watched in silence.
    Sunchet at last spoke into that silence, speaking in 
an archaic form of Primal. That, combined with her accent, 
made it difficult for Maruss to understand, but he managed 
to catch the gist of it.
    "Know that we have gathered to watch the Confirmation 
of an Heir to a Klaina." Sunchet put one hand into a pouch 
hanging at her waist as she spoke, and at the end of her 
sentence, drew out a sapphire and held it aloft. The 
gleaming gem was almost the same shade as her eyes. 
"Daydark, with its line of blue-eyed rulers, stretches 
back to the Taint, and beyond. Tell me, do the rulers of 
the other Klainae think this one, Beryl Daydark, should 
ascend to the throne of Daydark?"
    A tall churni with bright golden eyes stepped forward 
from his gathering of people. In one hand, he held an 
ancient, polished piece of gold. His voice rolled like 
sonorous bells, the most musical churni voice Maruss had 
yet heard. "Deepen recognizes the claim," he said, holding 
the gold higher so it caught the fire. A yellow beam of 
light joined to the blue sparkle of the sapphire in 
Sunchet's hand, weaving a web of brilliance.
    A death Elwen woman as coldly beautiful as Sunchet, 
but with dark hair and bright green eyes, stepped forward 
holding an emerald. "Deathwield does recognize," she said 
with a slight accent, and joined green light to the gold 
and blue.
    Almost immediately behind her was a young man who 
looked slightly nervous, clinging to a cloudy piece of 
brown agate the same color as his eyes. "Deathbring 
recognizes," he breathed, and a wavering stream of brown 
light joined the others. Maruss could sense amused looks 
all around.
    "Darkhand," the last ruler said with a nod, stepping 
forward. He handled the darkly radiant beam of his piece 
of onyx with ease, so that it almost seemed to be coming 
from his black eyes.
    "Beryl Daydark," Sunchet snapped, her eyes not on her 
son but on the web of light. "Do you accept?"
    "I do." Beryl spoke firmly, but there was a hint of a 
tremor in his voice. He stepped forward and touched the 
light confidently, however.
    There was a brilliant flash of all five hues, and when 
Maruss could see again, Beryl stood proudly before 
Sunchet. To Maruss's surprise, the churni's face had 
gained something of his mother's, and-
    Beryl's eyes were now as blue as the sapphire.
    "It is done," Sunchet said loudly into the silence.