Exiles From Light
                         Prologue
              271, Age of Arcadia, Midsummer
    The raven coasted lazily on the wind, imitating a hawk 
for a few moments before a cascade of wingbeats broke out. 
Cawing softly, it retired to a perch on the side of the 
mountain, a rowan young and strong and well able to bear 
the weight of so large a bird. Clinging close to the 
trunk, aligning itself just so, it peered with lazy eyes 
down into the valley.
    At once it stiffened, cawing again, though this time 
in wonderment. It had seen many strange sights in a life 
longer and more filled with thought than most birds would 
ever know, but this...
    Below it moved a cavalcade of Elwens. Nothing unusual 
about that, really, though the fact that they weren't a 
wagon train but simply a lot of people on foot was. But 
many, with the heat of the midday sun and the loneliness 
of this wild place, had dared to pull back the hoods of 
their concealing cloaks. Thus they revealed skin darker 
than the sky at midnight, sable skin that was the infamous 
and infallible mark of Arcadia's most feared race.
    Darkness Elwens. Soul-eaters.
    The raven stared for a long moment, then took off, 
swooping low above them. Darkness Elwens walking with 
children and pregnant women in their train, moving as if 
they did not want to be seen, rather than as if they 
wanted to fight, could not be a war band. Besides, only a 
few carried weapons; only a few more had the toughened 
look in their eyes and yet uncallused hands that 
proclaimed them mages. The others paced along 
unconcernedly within the protection of the rest, talking 
and laughing in a liquid language, close to birdsong but 
never quite breaking through. The children ducked between 
the legs of the adults in a shrieking game of tag, merrily 
unaware of or blithely ignoring the fact that many who 
dwelt not so far away would slaughter them as demons in 
the shape of children.
    As the raven turned for a second passage over, its 
flickering shadow fell on two at the head of the group who 
had not removed their cowls. One did so now, looking up at 
the raven with piercing silver eyes in which there gleamed 
a disconcerting level of intelligence. The one beside him, 
however, nearly caused the raven to lose control of its 
flight.
    She resembled the darkness Elwens in every important 
way; she was Elwen. But she had the flawless golden skin 
associated with the light Elwens, the mortal enemies of 
these people... and the blue eyes that stared back at it 
without fear showed no sign of evil enchantment.
    The raven shook its head, somewhat dazed, and retired 
to its rowan tree. Speculations whispered in its mind, but 
it would not listen. Better to leave well enough alone.
    It tucked its head under its wing and went to sleep.




                        Chapter 1
                     Barring The Way
    "Children of darkness, exiles from light,
     Long ago you sought the ways of the night.
     What will it take for time backwards to flow,
     And return you to the paths you should know?"
    -Shia Wildharper.

    Zadok nodded as he surveyed the low green bowl, not 
quite a vale between two outthrusting arms of peak rock 
but coming close. It was flat, anyway, and that was 
becoming precious the higher they climbed into the 
forbidding, stubborn Lukalia Mountains.
    "We camp here!" he shouted over his shoulder, and 
heard the words flashing back along the line of the 
Arvadi. Sighing, he stepped into the bowl and walked 
around its edge, scanning for any kind of trap that might 
indicate someone lived here who just didn't happen to be 
home at the moment.
    He found nothing, not even the ruins of a cabin or 
other small house. Only birds twittered at him from the 
trees- with their natural calls, not the unusually high- 
pitched or drawn-out ones that signaled a hidden force- 
and only squirrels scampered through the grass. The 
fearless way they looked at him finally convinced him no 
one had ever dwelt in this vale, at least not anyone who 
had ever hunted them for food.
    "All clear!" he called, not that it would have 
mattered. The children already scrambled over the rocky 
lip of the place, delighted to roll in the sweet-smelling 
grass and play tag over a surface softer than rock. Zadok 
watched them for a moment, cavorting shapes like left- 
behind slashes of night in the sunlight, then turned away 
and moved to help Lia down from the rock. 
    The light Elwen inclined her head and accepted his 
hand with a nod of thanks, hissing slightly when the ankle 
she had sprained the other day in a slide down a slope 
touched the ground. "Thank you," she said aloud, leaning 
wearily against him and closing her eyes. The darkness 
Elwen gently stroked the thick mane of hair that by now 
fell uncut nearly to her waist, a white-gold mane awash  
with flashes of red.
    "It was nothing," he said smoothly. "I'm tired, you're 
tired, everyone except the little boundless ones over 
there is tired." He nodded toward the children, now 
playing some sort of game that involved much running and 
shrieking, though no discernible rules.
    Lia looked up at him with blue eyes as pale, if not 
quite as bright, as lightning. "You wish Fafi were with 
them, don't you?" she prodded gently.
    "Yes." Zadok did not feel the need to elaborate, save 
to add, "What is done is done. My sister is dead, and no 
magic can bring her back. I've accepted that."
    Lia nodded, then frowned at someone who had just 
hopped into the vale. "Jezor shouldn't be using that ankle 
yet," she murmured in a voice of rising agitation. "If 
you'll excuse me, I have to go explain to him- again- that 
if he keeps using his ankle that way he'll lose the use of 
it." She disentangled herself from him and disappeared in 
the mage's direction.
    Zadok drifted in the opposite one, idly listening to 
non-private conversations among his people, gauging their 
fatigue and their continued willingness to trust in him. 
To his surprise and pleasure, much of the talk he heard 
did not concern the road at all, save talk of injuries 
sustained there and fervent prayers that they come out of 
the mountains soon. The Arvadi- the Exiles, in the Primal 
Tongue- seemed to have accepted their lot with stoic 
determination to see the journey through, and otherwise 
carried on with normal living.
    He passed one young woman who sat on the ground, arms 
folded and crystal eyes staring into the middle distance, 
back determinedly turned on the young man who was trying 
to attract her attention. Zadok hid a smile in his hand. 
Women didn't generally consider Sorlenn bad-looking- not 
with his brilliant silver hair and his unusual golden 
eyes, stunning against the sable skin- or unintelligent. 
But Shia constantly tried to ignore him.
    A mistake, that. Sorlenn, though an outrageous flirt, 
had been devoting more and more time and attention to Shia 
lately. He could never resist a challenge.
    "Shia," Sorlenn said in a pleading tone, spinning 
daggers through his hands in a display that made Zadok 
blink and look away hastily, just imagining the accidents, 
"don't you at least think I'm a good juggler?" As if to 
prove his point, three daggers separated themselves from 
the rest, meeting above his head in a glittering triangle 
before falling back into the jungle of flashing blades.
    Shia bowed her head, so that silver hair fell around 
her face and muffled her voice. "You're probably using 
telekinesis to help you."
    "I am not!" The young archer seemed highly insulted, 
so insulted he caught a dagger by the blade instead of the 
hilt. He yelped and sucked on the bloody finger while 
allowing the other daggers to fall to earth safely, all 
the while eying Shia speculatively. Then his gaze 
brightened. "What about-" he began.
    "No."
    Zadok chuckled, silently wished his young friend luck, 
and drifted in the opposite direction, moving 
counterclockwise around the camp. He heard nothing else of 
import, however, or even interest. Parents and older 
siblings crooned lullabies to the children they fetched 
away from the game (though as often as not the little ones 
listened to the songs, pretended to be asleep, and ran off 
the moment the caretaker's back was turned). Mages who had 
once been Trulae, the ruling caste of Zadok's kind, 
gathered around burgeoning fires to exchange notes on 
their craft and exclaim over the cooking. A few of the 
soldiers with them who had had Council training, as Zadok 
had, offered lessons in swordplay and archery to those who 
wanted to learn. Gleaming blades shone with fire in the 
dying light of the sun, plunging in here and there to stop 
just short of a fatal stroke, or rebounding from each 
other in glittering coruscations of sparks. Zadok shaded 
his eyes from the light and moved closer, trying to see.
    "My lord," a respectful voice without the slightest 
trace of a zorkro accent greeted him. A slender man who 
showed other differences from the general run of Zadok's 
kind- he was taller, and his skin far paler- moved out 
from the impromptu arena to bow to the leader of the 
Arvadi. "Could I interest you in some practice?"
    Zadok shook his head in some amusement, though he was 
not sure if he were more amused by the suggestion or the 
challenge shining at him from the green eyes. A month ago, 
the land Elwen could never have engaged in a fight with a 
darkness Elwen that was less than deadly. "No, thank you, 
Veraquia. The sword was never my weapon. The knife, 
now..."
    "I have trained with a dagger," Veraquia answered, 
eyes shining once more. "Would that do, my lord?"
    "Passable," Zadok said in a false lofty tone of voice, 
inclining his head.
    Veraquia laughed and led him eagerly back into the 
cluster of blades. They ducked and dodged to avoid blades 
swung or parried with excessive force, and the biting 
comments of the drillmasters that always followed that. At 
last, they found a place where the grass, though flat, had 
not been trampled. Zadok drew a knife from his belt and 
crouched in readiness, his eyes moving easily back from 
hand to eye to foot on his opponent.
    Veraquia had already shed his thick cloak and wore the 
simple tunic and leggings of spun darkness that all the 
members of their little group, darkness Elwen or not, had 
taken to wearing. Zadok hesitated, then cast off his cloak 
as well. He wore it so often that it seemed a part of him 
at times, but it would be rather uncomfortable in this 
case, adding to the sweat he was likely to work up.
    Veraquia gave no warning; he simply lunged, moving 
with the speed and grace that was the birthright of Elwens 
alone. His dagger feinted toward Zadok's face, then 
followed a darting path toward his midsection.
    Zadok had read the feint correctly and did not try to 
protect his face, though standing there calmly while his 
foe's blade screamed toward him went against the grain. 
The moment he parried Veraquia's blade, though, he was 
moving. He had purposely not hit the dagger very hard, so 
that it remained low, near his waist, and now he twisted, 
hitting Veraquia's arm with his elbow and sending it 
flying wide.
    The land Elwen, understanding well how open he was, 
dropped to the ground and rolled away. Zadok pursued him, 
moving lightly and easily, alert for a sudden change of 
direction that could be used to try and take his feet from 
under him. 
    But the land Elwen simply completed his roll and 
sprang back to his feet, battle-light burning in his eyes. 
A moment only he studied Zadok, green eyes boring into 
silver ones; then he tried a daring maneuver, jumping 
straight over the darkness Elwen's head and bringing his 
knife so low it would part the thick black hair.
    Zadok performed the appropriate counter, reaching up 
with a fearless hand to grasp the tumbling Elwen's arm. 
Veraquia continued his path, bringing Zadok over with him, 
but the zorkro had expected this and was prepared. As the 
green-eyed Elwen hit the ground and tried to regain his 
feet, Zadok rolled over his own arm and jumped on top of 
him.
    The air fled Veraquia's lungs with an explosive, 
"Whoof!" He tried to strike upward, but Zadok got his 
knife to the other's throat first, smiling slightly at the 
unshadowed frustration in the green eyes.
    "Game over," he whispered, and rolled off Veraquia's 
chest. The land Elwen sat up, looking from his knife hand 
to Zadok as if he had been betrayed.
    "More devious next time," Zadok chided him, sheathing 
his blade and moving away, calling the instructions back 
over his shoulder. "My people think deviously. And it's 
the only way to win if you fight a darkness Elwen!"
    Veraquia nodded, looking a little ashamed of himself, 
and stood, moving off with his head bowed submissively. 
Zadok sighed and shook his tingling muscles back to the 
edge of readiness, instead of actual battle-stage. The 
exercise had been good for him, most probably, but also 
most probably, he would be nothing but a batch of sore 
muscles and bruises tomorrow.
    The soldiers who had paused to watch the fight, and 
now nodded congratulations to Zadok, were being beaten 
back into the press of things by their drillmasters. It 
pleased Zadok that, although his people called him "lord" 
and followed him, they did not grant him too much respect. 
In situations such as this, he was an ordinary person, 
less important than training unskilled youngsters to 
fight.
    As no one seemed to need him at the moment, he moved 
to the edge of the vale and looked up, regarding the 
sunset with a profound sense of awe. The mountains, 
marching into the distance, obscured the lower colors, but 
against the higher clouds of red and purple and gold, they 
only glowed, the framed picture and not the framework. 
Zadok felt his heart swell as he noticed the first stars 
peeping out over the sun's bloodground, and Lureth the 
golden, brightest of the moons, already mounting out of 
the east. Though he had seen few sunsets in a life that 
spanned nearly three centuries and was overcome by wonder 
each time he watched, he still preferred the night, the 
rightful time of his people.
    A shudder traveled the length of his spine, and he 
stretched, absently, not taking his eyes off the sky. Too, 
the night brought pain and duty as well as pleasure. But 
he would not think of that right now. He was having too 
much fun watching the stars, both black and silver, appear 
one by one, and hearing the song of the crickets beginning 
with slow trills.
    He heard a step behind him, but did not turn, either 
swiftly or slowly. He simply watched the stars until the 
other chose to speak. It was entirely possible she 
wouldn't. Lately, she had chosen to share the hours of 
early darkness with him in mutual silence and respect.
    This time, however, Lia limped to a halt beside him 
and laid a firm hand on his arm. "We have to talk," she 
told him, her blue eyes hard as flint and her tone bearing 
an edge.
    Zadok lowered his eyes to the ground, his mind from 
heaven, and sighed wistfully. "What about?" Stupid 
question, he immediately told himself.
    "I trust I have no need to tell you again the events 
that drove us from Darkfang," Lia began. "You lived 
through them, as all here did, and paid a greater price 
than most." She paused, studying him closely in the 
starlight, though she hardly needed the radiance, what 
with her Elwen ability to see his aura. "One of those 
prices was audgaoi addiction," she continued softly, so 
softly he almost mistook her words for one of the myriad 
small breezes whistling through the grass.
    "I know this. Why are you repeating it?"
    She ignored his half-hostile tone, instead moving in 
front of him, so that he could not evade her eyes. "You 
haven't said anything about heavengiver leaves since that 
day. Am I to understand you have handled the addiction on 
your own?"
    "You know the answer to that."
    The light Elwen stared at him, then reached out and 
grasped his shoulders in slim golden hands. "You fool. You 
would still rather die than take the leaves?"
    Zadok did not see the point of responding, even to 
nod. He shrugged off her hands and paced away, back the 
way they had come and toward a small, scrubby group of 
spruces. The wind was picking up, colder now and making 
the spruces scrape and rustle and rattle.
    "But what about what you have to live for?" Lia 
pursued him, her voice pounding relentlessly at the outer 
sides of his brain, driving home points he would not 
permit himself to consider. "What about the Arvadi, and 
our future as a people? What about me, and you, and our 
love?"
    "I don't know." Zadok shrugged and turned to face her, 
smiling slightly at her look of startlement. "Are you 
surprised to hear that? I don't know why. I've 
demonstrated uncertainty often enough before."
    Her face lit with a brief smile of memory before 
fading into stony sternness again. "No, Zadok, not this 
time."
    The darkness Elwen turned in the opposite direction to 
mask his dismay. Things must be serious indeed, or her 
resolve unusually firm, if she would not be distracted 
from her purpose by pleasant reminiscence.
    "Now," Lia continued, after waiting for him to say 
more, "the solution is very simple. Take the leaves, and 
you will live. It will be at the cost of deepening the 
addiction, yes, and living in that mindless gray you told 
me of for a few hours at a time. But is it not better than 
the alternative?"
    "I would rather die than be a slave to anything," 
Zadok retorted peaceably. "How long will it take for you 
to understand that?"
    "Wrenna said-"
    "Wrenna was a traitor." Zadok strove to make his voice 
calm; after so many days, and so many miles between him 
and Darkfang, he still could not remember the woman who 
had murdered his sister, and whose soul he had destroyed, 
objectively. "I saw two of my friends die of audgaoi 
addiction. I'm beginning to think now that that is the 
reality of it, and not the peaceful balance she told us 
of. I'm damned if I take it, and damned if I don't, Lia. 
Please, understand and stop trying to kindle hope in me."
    Silence returned to the world, save for the crickets' 
song. Then Lia said, in a voice that warmed Zadok no more 
than the moonlight did, "How long have you suspected 
this?"
    The zorkro shrugged. "At least since we left 
Darkfang."
    "Why didn't you tell me?"
    "Because you would react as you are reacting now. If 
you hadn't forced me to this, you wouldn't know, still."
    Lia stood silent again, as if pondering. Then, with 
gentleness as infinite as the frozen anger: "The supply of 
reth is running low, too."
    "Yes, I know."
    "When that is gone, what will you do?"
    Zadok shrugged again. "Continue eating souls, though 
now I will have to do it with my conscience intact. It 
will be a fight with madness each time, of course, but 
what else can I do? I was already granted one reprieve 
that I had to abandon. I won't fight free of that drug a 
second time."
    "What caused this, Zadok? I've never heard you sound 
so hopeless before. Where is the darkness Elwen who helped 
his people defeat a numerically superior force against 
hopeless odds? Where is the Elwen who did not allow the 
death of his sister to kill him?" Her voice sank, to the 
edge of hearing, and despite himself Zadok turned and 
looked at her, following the voice. Her blue eyes 
glimmered with tears, as the sky shines with rain. "Where 
is the man I learned to love?"
    "Here, still, lady," Zadok answered, in a voice that 
held echoes of a gentleness that no one else would ever 
hear. "Or, perhaps, gone to the stars on his pyre. I have 
merely learned not to struggle against the inevitable."
    "I don't understand why you accept your slavery to 
reth when you don't accept it to audgaoi."
    "I chose the slavery to reth, chose to break it and to 
accept it," Zadok retorted quietly. "That is what makes it 
different, lady. Choice is all; choice is all that 
matters, besides freedom." He turned to face the sky 
again, saw the summer moon, Takon, climbing to join 
Lureth, and shuddered a second time. "You should go now, 
lady." Already, it was an effort to control his voice.
    "All right," said Lia, with reluctance. He heard the 
sound of Elwen footfalls, so light as to be nearly 
inaudible, through the grass, and then her bright, 
summer-morning scent faded under the musk of the spruces 
and of night.
    Zadok took a deep breath and pulled a rubbery black 
leaf from beneath his tunic, then hesitated and stuffed it 
back again. He must eat, of course, but once he swallowed 
that leaf, any song he might sing would be of the spirit, 
to bind himself and his victim together. He wanted to 
elwensing, that utmost ritual of joy and peace that bound 
the stars and the Elwens together.
    He tilted back his head and began to sing, slowly and 
at first without beauty. His voice thrummed and tilted, 
darkly accented and deep with secrets that not even his 
people knew the names of. The song spiraled into the air, 
wordless and liquid, a shower of black silver and 
stardark. Zadok's mind lifted along with it, the first 
time this had ever happened, and for a few moments a 
profound peace settled over his soul. It was as close to 
religious ecstasy as he ever expected to come.
    That done, he closed his eyes and thrust the leaf into 
his mouth, chewing firmly, so that there could be no 
mistakes. He felt the brief, familiar fire that seared 
away a large part of what made him Elwen, obliterating the 
peace and heightening his senses...
    And then he was Zadok no longer, but a darkness Elwen 
on the hunt. He sniffed the air, and poised with longing, 
for a few moments tempted to run back among the helpless, 
trusting fools in the camp. But he couldn't do that, even 
if he could no longer remember why. Shaking his head and 
growling in disgust, he loped into the forest.
    He caught the scent of valley Elwens, velyni, almost 
immediately, and changed course to follow the stray breeze 
that had brought the message to him. It had been a long 
time, a very long time indeed, since he'd tasted a 
sentient being's soul.
    There were four of them, probably a patrol out from 
Valeprotect- or rather, all that remained of one. Patrols 
rarely traveled in groups of fewer than nine so far from 
the velyn city proper. He should know; the Arvadi had 
spent a large part of the last six days hiding from them. 
His brain gave him that knowledge without interfering in 
the process of the hunt.
    They huddled close together, around a fire that smoked 
and steamed and spat unhappily. They glanced over their 
shoulders at the forest every so often, now and then 
reaching to add more wood to the fire or rub arms 
prickling with gooseflesh. Two ate, tearing at venison 
jerky and drinking a wine that smelled as sweet as nectar 
with a notable lack of enthusiasm.
    Zadok let his nostrils flare, catching the wind and 
bringing him the truly important information. No smell of 
steel, starmetal, or iron; they carried no weapons or else 
weapons of inferior materials. That didn't mean anything 
if they were mages, of course, but it did cut down on the 
chance of a quick response if he attacked.
    Readiness surged through his muscles, and with a dark, 
empty smile typical of reth victims, he corrected himself. 
When he attacked.
    The nearest velyn, a young female with long green hair 
bound in a battle-braid to prevent an enemy from catching 
an easy hold, abruptly broke the silence. "Have none of 
you wondered at that large group of tracks that crossed 
our path this morning?" she said in a bright, false voice. 
"Where could that many people be going, do you think?"
    "I don't know, and I don't care," the older male 
seated across from her snorted. "The Council will take 
care of it. It's our duty to report such things, not worry 
about them." He curled up in his bedroll, one hand close 
by his side as if missing the presence of a sword, and was 
as quickly snoring.
    "Doesn't anyone else care?" the female asked, a bit 
plaintively.
    The other woman in the group leaned across the fire to 
pat her hand. "Of course we do, Allyria. But Gerjyss is 
right. We have to tell the Council that dragons attacked 
us, and then that we saw the footprints of this group, not 
go after the group right now."
    Allyria threw the woman a swift, grateful look. "Why 
would dragons attack us anyway?" she asked suddenly. "Is 
it feeding time for-"
    "For their young, yes," the older woman said placidly, 
leaning down to crush some sort of paste in a mortar and 
pestle. "They always fly far and wide when kittens grow. 
And you saw those younglings with the queen? They couldn't 
have been older than ten years at most."
    "It just isn't fair," Allyria declared heatedly. "What 
god did we offend, that they chose us to prey on? Nothing 
like this has ever happened to a Valeprotect patrol 
before!"
    "It has, dear. They've just hushed it up." The older 
woman was frowning at her now and hooking two fingers in 
what Zadok assumed to be some sign of protection against 
evil. "Do keep your voice low, Allyria. If we have 
offended one of the Powers, He or She might send something 
else against us if we keep complaining about it."
    Zadok moved then. Little of a sense of drama was left 
to him in his reth state, but this was an opportunity too 
good to miss. With an attitude like that, Allyria wouldn't 
live long, anyway. He would be doing them a favor by 
culling her now. Strengthening the herd, as wolves did for 
deer, he thought with a tight smile, even as something 
whispered in him: Would that you were anything so natural!
    He leapt out of the trees and onto the young woman, 
catching her neck in his hands and using his full weight 
to knock her to the ground. He wasn't much heavier than 
she was, having the same slender Elwen conformity, but 
taken suddenly and by surprise, the female went down under 
him.
    The others came to their feet, soundless screams 
standing in their faces and eyes. Zadok bared his teeth, 
or, more specifically, his fangs, letting his lips slide 
back from the lengthening bars of ivory.
    The velyni vanished into the forest, running hard. 
Apparently without a mage among them, and with no steel 
weapons, they could not challenge him.
    Zadok turned his attention back to the young woman he 
crouched above like a vulture. Wide green eyes the color 
of emeralds fixed on him, and a voice made breathless with 
terror said, "Please, please let me go. I'll do anything- 
I swear- give you anything you want- here-" She began to 
fumble at a bright, silver-chased copper bracelet clasped 
on one wrist.
    "There is only one thing I want from you," said Zadok 
emotionlessly, and dipped his head to her throat. She 
screamed until his fangs pierced green skin and drew out 
the soul. It faded, shimmering, into his gullet, leaving 
behind only specks of yellowish fluid. Her body gave a 
wracking shudder, and then became little more than rags of 
skin fluttering bravely, attached to bones. The bracelet 
with which she had tried to buy her life slid down the 
bony arm until stopped by the elbow joint.
    Zadok, sated, contemplated the taste of the soul as he 
faded slowly into the forest. Sweet enough, if soured 
somewhat by the taint of passion's fire and by her last 
paroxysms of horror. He could never quite decide whether 
that fear at the end added a certain spice to the meal or 
whether it spoiled it completely.
    Halfway back to the camp, the reth wore off, and Zadok 
was able to think like himself again. He did not think of 
Allyria's last moments; to do so might drive him mad, and 
would do the poor girl no good, if she still existed in 
some form. Instead, pausing against a spruce, he thought 
of what the velyni had said.
    Dragons. Who attacked Elwens, creatures they usually 
respected, to feed their young, and apparently carried off 
or ate metal weapons as well. Zadok lifted his gaze 
thoughtfully to the as-yet-distant slopes of the 
mountains. He knew of the aqua dragon warrens near here, 
of course, but he had not thought it would be a problem. 
They did not plan on going that way anyway- they hoped to 
be out of the mountains before long, in fact- and dragons 
were wary of darkness Elwens. Zadok smiled slightly, again 
baring his fangs. With good reason.
    Satisfied that that problem was solved, he walked back 
toward the camp, humming under his breath. As he did so, 
he absently rubbed at his arm. Nirnez, the Goddess of 
Wind, had caused several scratches to appear there some 
time ago, scratches that always bled. As long as they were 
bound, they caused no real trouble, but it was probably 
time to change the wrappings again.
----------------------------------------------------------
    When he reached the camp, the only people awake 
(seemingly) were sentries. He drifted past them without 
being noticed; many of the Arvadi were working to wean 
themselves of eating souls, just as he once had been able 
to, and it distressed them to be reminded that one among 
them, at least, would always deserve the foul reputation 
accorded to zorkro by outsiders.
    Zadok curled up on his bedroll when he reached it, 
listening to the quiet breathing of his people while he 
wound the scratches with strips of fresh linen. Tossing 
the old bandages aside, he lay down and closed his eyes, 
fully expecting to fall asleep immediately. He had a habit 
of doing that after finishing a hunt.
    He fell, but instead of into slumber or into dream, it 
was nightmare.
    He seemed to stand in a place of darkness that 
whispered and laughed and clung to his skin like a sticky 
miasma when he tried to move through it. Unseen insects 
gave him bites that itched and burned like mosquito bites 
but could not be scratched. He heard voices, choked on the 
edges of screams, trying to tell him things, but he could 
not make out what they were saying.
    "What?" he shouted- or tried to. The darkness flowed 
into his mouth like a thick pudding, smothering the words. 
Choking on bile and the foul taste of the stuff, he took a 
step backwards.
    And then he fell through darkness deeper but somehow 
cleaner than that which he had left, while two golden eyes 
opened above him and a voice whispered in sorrow, 
"Brother, what have you become?"
    "Fafi?" Zadok said, and then realized it was a dream. 
It must be. But he did not wake up as one is supposed to 
after such a realization. The golden eyes continued to 
stare, and the voice continued, soft and ineffably sad.
    "You eat souls, Brother. Still. You fought free of 
such slavery once, but now you will not even try. How can 
you cause such harm to innocents? Why did you not settle 
for an animal, and let that poor woman go?"
    Zadok could feel tears flowing down his cheeks, but he 
was unsure whether they were his own or moisture shed by 
the bright eyes above him. "Fafi, I- if I tried to fight 
my way free again, the hunger would take me in the middle 
of friends and I might kill some of them. And I didn't 
settle for an innocent because I can't, not when reth's on 
me. Then, I have no conscience, and usually I choose the 
first being, sentient or not, that crosses my path."
    He wondered why this conversation took place. He had 
never been ashamed of what he was, had never allowed 
himself to feel ashamed. He couldn't change it, so there 
was no point in worrying about it. But now, when for a 
brief time he remembered being free, such memories gave 
him not hope, but despair.
    "You wish to be worthy of me," the bodiless voice 
said, now leached of all passion. "Very well. Hold to your 
commitment of peace, Zadok, and work to free yourself of 
this foul slavery. And it is foul, never doubt that. It is 
foul..."
    Zadok awoke with his cheeks liberally splashed with 
tears, as wet as if he had been standing in salt spray. He 
clenched his teeth and ignored his stinging eyes for a 
moment to concentrate on his stinging heart.
    Fafi, until converted by the priestess Lemakush to 
worship of Nirnez and the Light, had always loved him. She 
saw the entirety of what he was and accepted it. If she 
had grown wiser after death, what sort of wisdom must it 
be?
    "I'm sorry, Fafi," he whispered into the night, 
looking up at the stars where his sister danced, if legend 
held true. At last he wiped away the tears. "But if I must 
choose between your approval and the lives of my people, 
it will be no contest. You- are dead-" his voice cracked, 
wavered, and came back strong "-and the Arvadi live still. 
I mean to see them keep on living."
    There was no answer, not even the sound of noiseless 
tears that was said to come from refusing to promise 
something to the dead. At last, Zadok turned over and 
sought refuge in uneasy slumber.
----------------------------------------------------------
    Zadok stared at the mage in honest astonishment. 
"Jezor, why? You need rest still. Why-"
    The former Trula cut him off, head lifted and silver 
eyes flashing proudly. The scar on the left side of his 
face stood out in sharp, vivid relief, almost seeming to 
cast a shadow of its own in the long dawnlight. "My lord, 
please. I have a- premonition, you might say. If you allow 
me to go ahead, I might be able to avert the evil that 
premonition promises."
    Zadok sighed and gave in. The mage would only badger 
him until he granted the wish anyway. "All right. But 
don't walk on your ankle overmuch."
    Jezor smiled, perfectly charming and agreeable now 
that he had gotten his way. "Of course," he said, and 
lifted from the ground to fly with the magic in his body. 
Zadok shook his head and turned away, moving to another 
who really should be off her feet.
    "Fair-day," he greeted the woman, inclining his head 
in the nod to equals usual among the zorkro. "Do you feel 
well enough to continue?"
    The person he addressed, a zorkro commoner woman 
without the usual slenderness of their race, nodded 
wearily and rested an ebony hand on her belly. "The baby's 
not due for four months yet. I know I shouldn't be 
walking, but we can't spare the people to carry me." Her 
voice carried no hint of blame, but Zadok cast his eyes on 
the ground nonetheless.
    "I know," he murmured. "I'm sorry, Melana."
    Her hand reached out to press his. "Don't be. Likely, 
by the time I'm in my eighth month, we'll have stopped for 
the winter anyway. I wouldn't want to brave seven-foot- 
high snowdrifts carrying a child."
    Zadok nodded in feverish agreement and moved away to 
talk to the children, gently and subtly questioning them 
on the state of their feet. They answered him, as always, 
with a cheerful chorus of protest that their feet were 
fine and they could run all day. Zadok chuckled slightly. 
He kept the pace of the Arvadi slow so children could keep 
up, but sometimes he thought the adults needed more rest 
and consideration.
    "Lor' Zadok?" A tug on his sleeve made him look down. 
A young zorkro girl peered up at him earnestly from 
beneath a tangled mass of silver curls. "Lady Lia says get 
over here right now."
    Zadok nodded to her in thanks and moved off, ignoring 
the renewed shrieks behind him as the children resumed 
their game of tag. Some things never changed.
    The lukalia waited impatiently for him, tapping the 
ground with a golden foot while holding her cloak close 
around her. They were already high enough in the mountains 
to need the fur and leather clothes in the mornings, when 
the sun had not yet risen high enough to warm the air and 
put to flight the drifting, cool mist.
    "There you are," she said when she saw him. "There's 
something I want to discuss with you, and I don't think 
anyone else should hear it."
    "I don't keep secrets from the Arvadi, Lia," Zadok 
said doubtfully, brushing his hair back from his face in 
order to see her better. His hair was a tangled mop 
lately, as nearly everyone's was. He'd have to see about 
trimming it soon.
    "This is something that has to stay a secret," she 
insisted savagely, catching his hand and drawing him into 
the muffling mists. Once there, she planted her hands on 
her hips and stared at him. "You don't really have any 
idea where we're going, do you?"
    "Yes, I do!" countered Zadok, stung. "We have to get 
out of the Rivadan first, and then it's on to the Gulf of 
Horallis. Lore Elwens dwell there, lore Elwens that might 
let us live among them or else sell us boats to cross the 
Endless Sea. I've heard they deal with people of all 
races-"
    "I know," said Lia in a voice that had more than a bit 
of sarcasm in it. "You've told me that before. But how do 
we get to the Gulf, Zadok? We would have to pass through a 
country crawling not only with people, but also with 
rivers. I know how much you darkness Elwens hate water. 
Some of the Arvadi would refuse to swim, and how could we 
ferry everyone across- even assuming we could find someone 
willing to do it?"
    "I don't understand why you've waited to attack this," 
Zadok said evenly. "I can see your point, but the Gulf of 
Horallis is still our best hope. If needs be, we'll take a 
circuitous route that would allow us to avoid the rivers. 
The people will be more difficult, but-"
    Lia's eyes softened suddenly in a look of pity. "You 
really don't understand, do you? I didn't either, until 
Veraquia showed me this map he'd drawn from memory. Here." 
She fumbled in a belt pouch, then drew out a rare and 
precious piece of parchment and handed it to him.
    Zadok lowered his eyes to the cities and rivers drawn 
just beyond the Lukalia Mountains, and blurted in shock. 
"What kind of mad god put this place together?"
    "I'm not entirely sure," Lia admitted, taking the map 
back and returning it to the pouch. "Maybe none of them. 
It would take a god a little more warped than most to even 
conceive that kind of insanity, much less design it." She 
brushed a hand through her hair and sighed, a sigh that 
seemed to banish the levity. 
    "You see, Zadok," she said compassionately, "even 
though I think your idea is a good one, I don't think it's 
workable. The shortest route to the Gulf, if we could 
somehow cut through that writhing viper's nest of rivers, 
is still over ten thousand miles. And they don't call 
Cytheria the 'Land of Rivers' for nothing. Veraquia didn't 
even put all of them on this map.
    "No, Zadok, but considering the distance, and the 
children, and the fact that Melana's baby is due to come 
so soon, I think's it better if we find some uninhabited 
place fairly near the Mountains to make our stand."
    Zadok stared at the ground, his mind tumbling slowly 
over and over, trying to readjust an idea he'd held for 
two months. "So you don't think that we need to leave 
Arcadia?"
    "No." Lia shook her head. "We don't know the least bit 
about sailing, and who's to say the prejudice against our 
people wouldn't be even worse on another continent or 
island or world or whatever we found? Who's to say any 
zorkro settlement in the world follows our principles? We 
will simply have to stay here in Arcadia, fight back 
against those who try to dislodge us, and hope for the 
best."
    Zadok nodded wearily and moved out of the mist, back 
toward the Arvadi, his clothes damp and his mind trying to 
turn in a dozen different directions at once.
    What was he going to do now? When did he tell them? 
And standing in his mind like a beacon:
    Where would they go?
----------------------------------------------------------
    Throughout the day, Jezor and several other mages 
drifted ahead, scouting. A few people grumbled about that, 
saying the mages were trying to resurrect the Trula caste 
and why show off superiority in magic? The grumbles, 
however, lasted only until the timely warnings of the 
former Trulae saved the front ranks of the Arvadi from 
running right into a rockslide.
    Zadok was glad of that. He had seen the kinds of 
conflicts that ripped people apart, and he didn't want to 
have to deal with them.
    They mounted higher and ever higher, the ground 
flowing back beneath them like a tireless river of grass 
and earth and stone. And the peaks of the Lukalias still 
loomed, glowering down as if they would like to stir 
themselves and shake the intruders off. Though rounded and 
worn by time into hazy, blue and purple half-moons, they 
still bulked incredibly tall, as did the majority of 
Arcadia's mountains.
    By noon, even the children had stopped playing and 
running, and dragged along behind their parents or 
siblings, for all the world like flowers drooping in the 
heat. The mages returned, finding the air on the upper 
slopes cool but too thin to breathe comfortably. Cloaks 
were pulled off and slung over arms, and more than a few 
looked tempted to discard them altogether. The sun beat 
down like a gong, unusually hot. Having melted all the dew 
from the grass, it seemed determined to start on them.
    Zadok wanted to call a halt, but he also wanted to 
find a place with water and at least some shade. Finally, 
hearing a roar in the distance, he hastened forward to 
investigate, ignoring Lia's attempts to call him back.
    He found himself pushing through low, scrubby spruces 
and sapling elms, the first he had seen all day, walking 
so hastily that briars and other undergrowth caught at and 
pricked his legs. At last he stumbled into a small, smooth 
green clearing, emerald as the vale they had left, and 
looked around in awe.
    This was not only a clearing, but a tiny valley, 
actually, framed by a steep drop behind, trees all around, 
and another drop on the downside. From the rocks above a 
waterfall leapt and cascaded, shedding a sparkling, 
fragrant mist and a rainbow halo. The water flowed into a 
small pool that in turn created a tiny river across the 
valley and another cataract on the second drop. The 
combined song of the waterfalls was what he had heard.
    Zadok knew he should hasten back and tell his people 
about this, but the water sparkled temptingly in the 
sunlight, and after a bit of hesitation he broke fully 
from the trees. His throat tingled with dryness; he had 
drunk the last of his waterskin some time ago. Surely one 
sip couldn't hurt...
    He knelt by the bank of the stream and scooped water 
up in his hands. It tasted just as good as it looked, as 
liquid sapphires might if they had a taste. Smiling, he 
reached for his waterskin to fill it.
    "You're late."
    Zadok prevented himself from betraying any surprise by 
the simple expedient of keeping his eyes on the water and 
his hands off the sheaths of his knives. Speaking calmly, 
he said, "I don't know your voice, sir. Would you care to 
reveal yourself?"
    There was an annoyed pause, and then the distinct 
sound of whispering. Smiling bleakly, Zadok rose to his 
feet. They had meant to disconcert him, but it seemed the 
trap had been reversed.
    He repeated the words of his thoughts aloud for their 
benefit, adding, "You will be worse than disconcerted in a 
moment if you do not reveal yourselves. I suppose you've 
heard what people look like after darkness Elwens are 
finished with them?"
    Another pause, and then a velyn stepped forth from his 
place of concealment, one of the elms that grew on the 
other side of the river. He mustered a confident sneer, 
but it slipped badly when Zadok simply stood looking at 
him, not even going for weapons. Clutching a spear before 
his chest as if it were some sort of talisman, he 
pronounced, "You should not be here, foul one. Your 
presence insults the Valley, the forest, Valeprotect, the 
race of the velyni-"
    "So many at once?" Zadok asked in mock amazement. "I 
must be better at insult than I thought."
    The valley Elwen flushed brilliant green, making his 
jade-dark skin even darker, and glared at him. "You will 
kindly listen," he said in icy tones. "You will only be 
given two chances to repent, and this is the first."
    "I'm not very kind." Zadok shrugged and folded his 
arms; that would make it harder for the man to see if he 
did move for a knife. Then the zorkro smiled, baring his 
fangs, and watching as the velyn's color dropped in direct 
proportion to the length of fang revealed. Zadok said very 
gently, "But I'll listen."
    "Quite," the valley Elwen murmured. Not moving his 
eyes from the other's teeth, he hastily recited, "By the 
order of the Council of Valeprotect, no darkness Elwen 
shall leave the Rivadan, and certainly not the army you 
lead. You have made a place for yourselves here, though 
the Valley cries out against having to bear such a 
foulness on its clean earth. You will stay, or you will 
find the way barred by creatures from your most horrible 
imaginings."
    "Those creatures would be hard to produce, unless you 
can conjure silencerunners."
    The official mask slipped from the green face, letting 
a bit of purely personal terror and awe through. 
"Silencerunners?" he whispered in a voice just this side 
of a whisper. "You've faced- silencerunners- and lived?"
    Zadok was careful not to let his shudder show on his 
impassive face or through the cloth of his tunic. "Yes. 
And by the stars' sakes, man, we're not an army! We have 
children with us, one or two pregnant women, people who 
aren't either soldiers or mages! Does that sound like a 
force intent on conquering the world to you?"
    "You are zorkro," the emissary insisted stubbornly. 
"That, in this case, is all that matters." Abruptly his 
face altered, looking faintly regretful. "I dare say my 
Council wouldn't care so much if reports from the Council 
of Arcadia hadn't come in, instructing us to hold you 
here. They say you are a known murderer-"
    "What soldier isn't?" Zadok snorted, so angry he could 
hardly contain himself.
    The valley Elwen went on. "-of Council members, and 
that you killed velyni from my city by getting them 
involved in some crazy project to stop the progress of 
rightful justice, and-"
    Zadok turned and stalked from the clearing. The 
emissary broke off the list of accusations to call softly 
after him.
    "You will not turn back, then?"
    "No," Zadok cast over his shoulder, keeping his voice 
inflexible. "And you can tell that to your precious 
Council or whoever you like. The Arvadi are a people of 
peace, but we will defend ourselves if need be. Lead an 
army against us, and we will see how many other velyni are 
killed stopping the progress of rightful justice."
    The velyn simply stared in silence as he strode to the 
edge of the trees; once there, Zadok turned back and 
regarded him with narrowed eyes, letting breath hiss 
between his lengthening fangs.
    "My people are hot, and tired, and need a place to 
rest. I intend to bring them here to do so, and if you are 
still here when we come, may all the gods you believe in 
attend you."
    With a cold bow, he pushed back into the trees.
----------------------------------------------------------
    Only Lia seemed to notice his barely-hidden foul mood 
when he returned to the Exiles. The rest heard only the 
report of water and relatively flat open space, and ran 
excitedly ahead. The light Elwen lingered behind, to take 
his arm and peer into his face searchingly. When he said 
nothing, however, she sighed and followed the others, 
steps as slow as a pallbearer's.
    Zadok remained briefly to stare unseeing in the sun's 
direction; a cloudbank had overcome the brassy gong, 
reducing it to a distant golden smolder. Zadok doubted 
that would bring rain, however. It had been a long, dry 
summer so far.
    As dry as the kindling of his temper.
    He had thought things were going so well. So long as 
they avoided patrols and left no obvious or hurtful signs 
of their presence behind- needlessly slaughtered animals, 
for example, which would enrage the velyni no end- he had 
thought the valley Elwens would let them go. They loved 
peace even more than the Arvadi, probably because they 
loved beauty, and there is little beautiful on a blood- 
soaked battlefield.
    But...
    So it began: the hounding of his people because of 
misconceptions, mistakes born in the minds of those 
blinded by light. 
    Zadok snorted at the cloudy sun and began climbing 
again, finding outlet for the anger in physical activity. 
Browned patches of scrubby grass ripped up under his 
hands; this part of the mountain was mostly rock, which 
made the little valley even more of a wonder and a haven.
    He laid one hand on a patch, and felt the weak roots 
give before he found a toehold. One moment he was 
relatively secure, the next pitching through free space.
    Instinct took over, and he angled his body for a 
fairly broad ledge a little way below. He crashed onto it, 
the impact stealing the breath from his body and making 
his ribs, weak since an accident in battle, sigh in 
warning. He lay still for a long moment, grateful for the 
escape and chiding himself, before resuming the climb.
    No matter how angry he was, or how senseless the thing 
he was angry at, there was no use in letting his emotions 
make him slip and die.
----------------------------------------------------------
    The Arvadi had claimed the valley when he joined them 
again, and no one mentioned seeing a velyn. Adults 
sprawled at their ease by the river, especially Melana, 
grateful for the rest. The children swam and splashed in 
the pool, daring each other to get under the pounding 
spray of the waterfall itself, or balanced even more 
daringly at the edge of the tiny cliff and tossed flower 
petals or feathers over. The few non-zorkro members of the 
Exiles, including Veraquia, a few elves, and other pale- 
skinned Elwens, moved among the others, shy and out of 
place as yet. Only Lia, Zadok acknowledged reluctantly, 
really seemed to fit in.
    Zadok wandered over to the waterfall to watch the 
children, or gaze into the pool and dream- he wasn't sure 
which. His feeling of sorrowful peace, however, was 
interrupted by the silver-haired girl who had brought him 
Lia's message that morning ambushing him. Gleefully, she 
jumped on his back, caught him by the hair, and then 
jumped down into the water, pulling him with her.
    Zadok surfaced, spluttering and rubbing a bruised 
face. The pool wasn't all that deep, and he had banged his 
nose on stones at the bottom. Immediately he saw the 
little girl, hovering beside him and watching him with 
that intense remorse only a child is capable of. 
    "Did I hurt you, Lor' Zadok?"
    "No," the older darkness Elwen said, shaking 
thoroughly wet hair over his shoulders. "Just startled me 
a bit-" He paused. "What's your name?"
    "Viana," the little girl answered promptly, an ancient 
word meaning "dusky." Her face had brightened, and the 
violet eyes that had probably given her her name beamed at 
Zadok. "Does that mean you're not mad at me any more?"
    "I never was mad at you, Viana." He reached out to 
ruffle the silver hair, now darkened nearly to pewter with 
wetness, but she ducked aside from his hand, laughing so 
hard she nearly knocked herself into the water again. 
    "No, no. If you're going to play Silver Fish with us, 
you have to play it right!"
    Her words attracted all the other children in the 
pool, and even some of the ones on the cliff. Silver Fish, 
whatever it was, must be a popular game- or perhaps a new 
one, Zadok thought, seeing the shine in Viana's eyes and 
the interested but uncomprehending looks on the faces of 
the other children. Just in case anyone hadn't heard, 
Viana announced importantly, "Lor' Zadok is going to play 
Silver Fish with us!"
    One little boy, whose black hair and golden eyes made 
Zadok think of Fafi with a choked feeling in his throat, 
poked Viana.
    "It's Lord, not Lor'," he said. "Say it right."
    Viana pushed him. "I am saying it right!"
    He shoved her back. "No, you're not!"
    Zadok coughed politely before the game, or argument, 
could go any further. "I don't think it matters how you 
say it," he told them. "Now, Viana, how do you play Silver 
Fish? If it's dangerous-"
    "No, it's not dangerous!" Viana bounced up and down in 
the water, casting a smug look at the boy. "I just made it 
up, and I don't make up dangerous games. See, all you have 
to do is close your eyes, and the rest of us will hide-"
    "That's just like Seeking!" someone else protested.
    "No, no, you didn't listen to me!" Viana flashed 
whomever had spoken an angry glance, then looked mollified 
when she discovered Zadok still looking at her with calm 
interest. "We hide in the water!" she said with great 
emphasis. "Lor' Zadok-"
    The boy poked her again, but Zadok warned him off with 
a glance, and Viana finished with great dignity. 
    "-has to find us. Whoever is still hiding last gets to 
be the new Silver Fish."
    "It might be a little dangerous, Viana," Zadok had to 
point out. "If someone hides under the waterfall, he or 
she could get hurt."
    "No one will hide under the waterfall," said Viana 
insistently, with a child's tolerance for the vagaries of 
adults. "That would be stupid. Can we play now, Lor' 
Zadok? Just one game? If it's dangerous, then we won't 
play any more."
    Privately, Zadok thought it might be a little late by 
then. But, after all, the children's parents were nearby 
if they needed help, and he could not deny the delight and 
the hope shining in the dusky eyes.
    "All right," he said amiably, and put his hands over 
his eyes while he counted slowly aloud, in the ancient 
tongue of Primal. It would take longer that way. "Chi... 
yy... ter..."
    The children scattered, amongst much shouting and 
splashing, with Viana calling gleefully back to him, 
"Count to fifty, Lor' Zadok! It won't be fair otherwise."
    Fair to whom? Zadok thought with an involuntary smile, 
but he counted to fifty. By that time, of course, the 
splashes had died down as the children dove underwater, 
or, in the shallower parts of the pool, crouched. Zadok 
let it have a few more seconds, then opened his eyes and 
looked around.
    The children were good, he had to give them that. With 
an Elwen's ability to hold a breath for as long as an 
hour, they could lie still on the bottom, motionless. Only 
the waterfall, and the ripples it created, stirred the 
pool.
    Zadok waded forward, and then halted in surprise as he 
realized the pool's stony bottom, which raised the water 
level almost to that of his knees, abruptly dropped off. 
Before him lay a clear expanse, ruffled by leaping drops, 
at least five feet deep.
    He paddled forward cautiously, wary of one of the 
children suddenly needing to surface for some reason and 
popping up right under him. But when no one surfaced after 
three minutes, he began to have more confidence.
    He drew in his own breath and dove, ignoring the 
current that tried to push him in the direction of the 
little river. He saw the first hider right away; to his 
delight, it was the little boy who had tormented Viana. He 
swam down and tagged him on the shoulder.
    The boy uncoiled from his tight curl and gave Zadok a 
sullen look before shooting for the surface. Zadok smiled 
and swam on, his eyes scanning alertly for tiny dark 
shapes. Under its surface, the water was surprisingly 
transparent, almost more white than blue, and he could see 
as clearly as though through a glass window.
    The next one he found was a little girl with crystal 
hair and golden eyes who had humped herself up like a 
stone and pressed her face into the bottom. She had 
forgotten to do anything about the brilliance of her hair, 
however, and so it drifted behind her, swaying in the pull 
of the current. A most unusual mantle for a rock to have, 
Zadok thought as he tagged her.
    One by one, he found the others, or they let 
themselves be discovered; he wasn't sure exactly which. At 
last, only Viana was missing. The others, even the sullen 
boy, agreed that she had to be Silver Fish next, and kept 
calling her name long after Zadok decided she wasn't going 
to answer them.
    He focused his gaze suddenly on the cataract's plummet 
into the pool, his eyes thoughtful. Though Viana had said 
no one would be stupid enough to hide under there, and 
that the game wasn't dangerous...
    He strode forward and plunged his hand through the 
fall's mist. It came up again, and snagged in his fingers, 
several strands of hair glinted brilliant silver.
    Viana struggled out of his grasp and for a moment was 
occupied in shaking water from face and nose and mouth and 
hair. Then she looked up at him in some disappointment. 
"You could have let me stay there," she objected. "It's 
really interesting. The fall makes all sorts of pretty 
colors from underneath."
    "Yes, but if you were directly beneath it, it could 
harm you," Zadok told her gently. "I thought we agreed on 
that?" When Viana nodded, he smiled and said, "Your turn 
to be Silver Fish. Count to fifty, too, or it won't be 
fair."
    Viana's face brightened, and she buried her face in 
her hands. As the hiders scattered, the golden-eyed boy 
paused to look up at Zadok and say, "Lord Zadok, she said 
only stupid people would hide under the falls. Does that 
mean she's stupid?"
    "I don't know," Zadok replied, trying to spot some 
place where she wouldn't see him immediately. "I don't 
know."
    They played Silver Fish throughout the afternoon 
(Viana always found the others right away, as though by 
instinct) and gradually Zadok forgot his wariness over the 
seemingly inevitable return of the velyni. Dusk deepened 
into night, and the stars shone over a peaceful, sleeping 
camp, with no tread of marching valley Elwen feet to break 
the stillness.
    Only those who must feed slipping in and out, like the 
shadows of nightmare or dream.
----------------------------------------------------------
    Several days later, they reached the place where the 
huge spur of the mountain at last gave way to the end of 
the Lukalias. It seemed strange indeed, Zadok thought, his 
heart singing, to see clear sky ahead, a long slope 
trailing out of the Rivadan and into the thickly forested 
country of central Cytheria. And there was the River 
Lightplay, foaming almost crystal in some places over 
rapids, burning and flashing in the sun.
    The sight hastened the steps of the Arvadi, even 
though they didn't like water. Talk and laughter that had 
become rare in the unusual hot weather started up again, 
and the children began an impromptu dance, skipping with a 
free grace far more beautiful than any set, learned steps.
    Zadok found himself, unexpectedly, racing with Lia 
down the last fall of the spur, dodging unconcernedly past 
holes that could break an ankle, his only objective to get 
ahead. The young woman, her hair and cloak alike blowing 
behind her, kept pace with him, laughing with 
exhilaration.
    They reached the bottom at last, their feet plunging 
deeply into a green carpet. Zadok felt certain his heels 
touched the ground first, but Lia only shook her head, 
making some move to reorder her tangled hair, though she 
was unable to challenge his claim for several moments due 
to breathlessness. Zadok waited, smiling, as she took 
several deep, heaving gasps.
    Then, when she finally did get her breath, she wasted 
it all in a long, warning hiss.
    Zadok spun about. Standing there before them, looking 
as if they had just emerged from the grass and trees now 
lying temptingly behind them, were several hundred velyni. 
They rode either bay horses or graybrutes, heavily muscled 
if not overly intelligent, ash-colored beasts who could 
turn their hooves into weapons.
    "I would advise you to leave," said their leader, a 
velyn woman whose flowing green hair scornfully proclaimed 
her lack of need for a battle-braid. The valley Elwen 
beside her, the Council's emissary, proudly waved a dark 
green banner around and then grinned at Zadok. The leader,  
unaware of the private enmity, continued, "You will not be 
harmed if you turn back into the mountains. But your 
leader, Zadok-" She speared him with a glance, leaving no 
hope that she didn't know his identity.
    "Your leader, Zadok," she reiterated softly, when she 
was sure she had their attention, "is wanted for 
questioning in the murders of Council members Ylen 
Flutedancer and Deron Gentledeer."
    Zadok could feel the despair radiating out from Lia, a 
hopelessness to match his own. He had dared to hope that 
he had outrun his past, that the life of the Arvadi would 
be untroubled by it.
    "Strange that the Council of Arcadia has called upon 
you to detain me, when it was your own people who happily 
disposed of Ylen Flutedancer." His voice rose clear and 
calm and cool, with just a faint touch of disdain, and 
after his first words he saw some of the younger soldiers 
look at each other doubtfully. He hid a smile behind a 
mask of stern, regretful calm. The first mistake of his 
enemies had always lain in letting him speak.
    "Who murdered him- you, or those poor, misguided velyn 
souls you tricked- matters not. All that matters is who 
was the cause of his murder." The lance the woman carried 
leveled at him. "You will surrender, now, or your people 
will be driven back into the Lukalias like the animals 
they are." She ignored the rising grumble from the 
"animals" in question and rode a step closer, her 
graybrute stepping nervously, as though it scented battle 
in the wind. "Choose! Now!"
    Zadok felt his heart, for all his confident poise, 
crack like glass. They couldn't hope to fight this many, 
not without casualties that would leave few alive. They 
would have to turn back into the Lukalias and cross over 
their high passes and out of the Rivadan.
    The Lukalia Mountains, where dragons hunted.
    His voice turned brittle and bitter, and the velyni 
shifted uneasily as his fangs slid into view. "You will 
regret this. I promise."
    The female leader's eyes turned insufferably self- 
satisfied. "I think not. Particularly since the only thing 
that makes your Exiles dangerous, their oh-so-clever 
leader, will be leaving them today."
    "He will not!" someone shouted, sparing Zadok the 
trouble of having to tell her.
    The woman's face turned green with fury. "What is 
this? What do you mean, no? After your history, you would 
defy yet another command from the Council of Arcadia?"
    "Considering our history, I don't see why you're 
surprised," Zadok remarked dryly. He was studying the 
mounts the velyni rode closely. Battle-trained, they 
looked, and yet able to carry a rider- or packs, in the 
place of a rider- for days on end. And while fairly 
clever, they did not have that look of sentience in their 
eyes that would indicate they were loyalty-bred, willing 
to fight to the death for their masters. The best 
combination. Good.
    "The Council of Arcadia is the Council of Arcadia!" 
shouted the leader, thoroughly enraged by now, taking a 
step forward as though intending to silence this 
impertinent darkness Elwen once and for all. "The ruling 
body of our fair continent! You will obey at once, and 
come with us, or I will-"
    She hesitated. Zadok smiled at her. "You will get off 
that graybrute and come after us?" When silence reigned, 
he nodded slightly. "I thought so. You lack the courage to 
face darkness Elwens on fair terms.
    "Since you seem so insistent, we will turn aside here- 
at least for right now. But I will not be leaving with 
you. I suggest you tell your masters you lost the arrest 
warrant, or whatever you wish. It will be easier than 
trying to compel me to come."
    The Arvadi turned and followed him back up the slopes 
of the mountain, the children not dancing now, the dark 
faces of most obedient but filled with chagrin. When they 
were out of earshot of the watching army, many gathered 
about him and asked how he intended to make the velyni pay 
if they did not fight.
    Zadok shook his head slightly, gazing down at the 
army, which was beginning to pitch camp. "I refused war 
because too many of our people would die. But there are 
other ways." He smiled. "Yes," he whispered, "other 
ways..."




                        Chapter 2
                        Dragonhunt
    "Dragons? What do you know about them, or care to 
know? The greatest sage in the world could tell you the 
sum of his knowledge concerning them, and still 'twould 
not be enough. Dragons can't be framed in words, young 
one, and they're not for mortals. Best leave them alone."
    -Sathilith Kremer, Sage and Dragonfriend.

    Zadok crouched, staring out over the many flickering 
lights of the camp, and idly wondered if velyni ever 
bothered not to light a fire. They seemed to require them, 
not only for warmth and protection but for whatever 
security their light offered against the encroaching 
night. 
    This night, though, their fires would work against 
them. Light made darkness all the darker, and gathered on 
the slope above the army now were ten creatures whose skin 
echoed the darkness in more ways than one, who could 
become shifting clouds of palpable night and drift all 
about the fires unnoticed.
    "Are we agreed?" Zadok spoke in a soft whisper; 
despite the danger of sound, it was quite often less 
noticeable to a sentry than the smooth flow of mental 
energy that marked a telepathic conversation. Heads nodded 
in the blackness all around him, and he smiled fiercely. 
"Go, then."
    His folk dissolved all around him, fading into the 
night. Zadok closed his eyes and let his own form slip 
away into that of the darkness cloud.
    He could still see in this form, though not as he 
usually did. It never confused him, however, because he 
could not remember darkness Elwen senses in cloud form, 
and vice versa. He roiled slowly past the staring, 
shifting sentries and into the shadows about the fires, 
keeping one "ear" open for interesting conversations even 
as he headed toward the picket lines. 
    He heard nothing specific, mostly wishes by soldiers 
that they were home and whispered tales of his people that 
made him chuckle soundlessly. Why did people always feel a 
need to exaggerate and terrify themselves, when reality 
was horrible enough?
    He reformed near the long lines of tethered horses and 
graybrutes, coming forward when they had grown used to the 
night-rich smell of him and would only be alarmed by 
sudden movements. From the pocket of his tunic he produced 
an apple from a tree that the children had raided 
yesterday. He had accepted Viana's gift, though not 
knowing why, since he couldn't eat it himself. Now, 
however, he was glad of the fortune that had let them find 
the fruit grove. 
    Breaking the apple in half with an easy twist, he 
offered one half to a horse and the other to a graybrute. 
They chewed contentedly, though in different ways, the 
horse whuffling the fruit off his palm and the graybrute 
scooping it up with shovel-like lips. Zadok used their 
noise- which the guards would only think of as cropping 
grass- to untie their picket lines. Holding them both 
firmly in one hand, he walked toward the next pair, his 
new friends following willingly in hopes of another treat. 
He broke the next apple into fourths, gained two more 
friends, and so on down the line, until he had ten animals 
looking at him rather eagerly.
    Now came the tricky part. Zadok pulled several scraps 
of cloth that people had willingly donated from their 
cloaks, along with bits of overused climbing rope, from 
his pocket. Leaning down, he began to bind the noisy 
hooves of the horses. The graybrutes, with their ability 
to alter their feet, could walk absolutely soundlessly, 
but the horses clopped.
    That done, he swung up on the back of one of the 
horses and directed him into a wide circle away from the 
camp. They would come up around the sentries and back to 
where more Arvadi waited eagerly to accept the mounts and 
pack animals he was stealing for them.
    The animals walked quietly, soothed into silence by 
the apples, his expert manner, and the fact that he was 
Elwen. Unlike Zadok's intelligent kin, the darkness Elwen 
thought with a flash of bitter humor, they did not 
distinguish between races of Elwens, simply Elwens and 
obviously different creatures like humans.
    He got that first load up easily enough, and delivered 
them into the hands of their new owners, all save the 
horse he rode. The stallion stamped when he tried to get 
off, as if he had taken a liking to Zadok and would prefer 
not to leave him. Zadok rolled his eyes at understanding 
faces and rode the horse down the slope again. 
    He passed two more groups on the way back up, and 
clenched his hand in silent victory at each of them. Each 
raider lead ten mounts, meaning thirty beasts so far, and 
the velyni as yet suspected nothing. 
    This time, Zadok did not head for the picket lines- if 
all went well, his friends should free enough animals. 
Instead, he directed his mount toward the place where 
fodder was kept. The horse went eagerly enough, following 
his nose to the scent of grain and mash and oats.
    Zadok used the now-useless picket lines to tie a few 
bags of grain and oats together, and then rode up the 
slope again, dragging the bags behind him, The horse 
snorted as if unused to such weight, but put his head down 
and pulled when Zadok asked him. The darkness Elwen would 
have gotten off and hauled the bags himself, but the 
stallion still made a fuss, so he didn't.
    Horses, graybrutes, and fodder all continued to arrive 
up the mountain, past the oblivious sentries. The whisper 
traveled back to Zadok that they had roughly ninety 
animals, with about five more on the way up; they could 
stop soon.
    Zadok nodded, but rode back down for more fodder and 
healing supplies, if he could find them, anyway. Taking 
care of this many animals was a risky and complicated 
business, hard if you didn't have the proper tools.
    He was busily tying bags together when his horse 
lowered his head and stamped nervously. A moment later, 
the light of a lantern flashed in Zadok's eyes.
    "Who are you, and what are you doing?"
    Hoping the lantern light would show his skin as some 
color indeterminately between dark green and black, Zadok 
answered casually, carrying on with whipping a rope round 
the mouths of the sacks. He would fight only if the old 
velyn squinting at him now gave him no choice. "Loading 
food for horses, of course. What does it look like I'm 
doing?" He let a commander's contempt for inefficient 
detail and waste of words, as well as stupid questions, 
snarl in his voice. The valley Elwen reacted 
instinctively, backing a step away and dropping his eyes 
in respectful submission.
    "I didn't mean to question you, commander. You simply 
startled me, that is all."
    "Are you usually startled out of your wits by 
activities within the camp, soldier?" Zadok linked one 
last bag of oats to the rest and stared unblinkingly at 
the man. "I thought your lot was to watch that which 
occurs outside."
    He was taking a desperate gamble there, but from the 
velyn's barely visible flush of shame it was obvious he 
was a sentry. "Forgive me, lord. I will return to my post 
now."
    "See that you do." Sitting haughtily on the horse, 
Zadok urged him into the night.
    Inwardly, he shook badly. So intent had he been on the 
task that only his horse's warning had given him any time 
to prepare at all. He patted the stallion gratefully on 
the neck.
    "Kerenqui," he murmured, naming him. "For that is what 
you are- a friend."
    Kerenqui snorted contentedly, but seemed to have no 
opinion about it one way or the other.
----------------------------------------------------------
    The others all met him on the hillside to report the 
task over and fairly done. Zadok nodded to them all and 
then turned to face the camp. He had been thinking all 
night about what would keep the velyni from pursuing them 
immediately, and at last he had an answer.
    He signaled the others to go ahead; they gave him 
curious looks but obeyed without question. When they were 
safely beyond range of arrows or anything else the 
startled sentries might hurl, Zadok clapped his hands 
around his mouth and tilted his head back.
    His voice rang out in the call of the harin wolf that 
sometimes haunted these mountains, a fearsome predator 
that horses and graybrutes, for some reason, greatly 
feared. Kerenqui jerked at his side, preparing to bolt, 
but Zadok caught his mane firmly in both hands, soothing 
him even as he howled again. The echoes helped, making it 
sound as if the members of a pack answered him.
    The camp below exploded into confusion. In their 
terror, the horses tore up the picket lines and ran 
through camp, stumbling over the bedrolls of sleeping 
velyni and once or twice nearly going into the fires. The 
graybrutes lumbered after them at a slower pace, rolling 
their eyes in fright and all but trampling the sleepers. 
Zadok watched the chaos for a moment, then mounted 
Kerenqui and turned him for the mountains. The horse 
danced nervously beneath him every now and then, sometimes 
giving him suspicious looks, but did continue carrying 
him.
    The sentries, even if they saw the galloping shape, 
were too involved in trying to stop the confusion to do 
much about it, and the sound of horse screams and velyn 
curses quite effectively masked the sound of pounding 
hooves. With a little luck, Zadok thought smugly, it would 
be days before they were even sure that a hundred riding 
animals, at least, were gone.
    They moved higher and higher, the darkness Elwen 
congratulating himself all the way and Kerenqui continuing 
to step nervously.
----------------------------------------------------------
    Lia came to meet him first thing when he rode into 
camp, nodding in admiration at the sight of Kerenqui's bay 
coat gleaming in the sun. "I heard of the trick you played 
with the harin," was her first comment. "Clever, but 
dangerous. It could have gotten you killed."
    "That whole expedition could have gotten me killed," 
Zadok pointed out, swinging down from Kerenqui and leading 
him toward the impromptu picket lines that had been set up 
for the captured animals. Already the children danced and 
curvetted about them like birds, trying to choose one. 
"I'm sorry you couldn't come along, but golden skin would 
have been a little noticeable on a night like that, 
without Lureth's light to dim it."
    Lia pulled a face. "By the way," she said then, "I 
went out of camp to scry by myself, and I saw an aqua 
dragon flying low overhead. I don't know if it saw the 
camp, and I don't know if we have cause to be concerned."
    Zadok sighed, glanced swiftly around to be sure no one 
was standing directly at his shoulder, and then said 
quietly, "I think we do. I didn't mention it before, 
because I thought we would be out of the mountains soon 
enough and I didn't want to start a panic, but I heard 
from a velyn I killed on a soul-hunt that the dragons are 
hunting to feed their young. One destroyed at least half 
of a patrol of valley Elwens, and all the metal weapons as 
well, for some reason. This dragon might not have seen us, 
but we won't be so lucky next time. Let's keep on our 
guard."
    Lia nodded and started to reply, but abruptly a half- 
strangled shout caused them both to whirl around. One of 
the lookouts stood on a boulder about a furlong from the 
camp, face filled with awe as he stared skywards.
    Zadok barely had to look up to see what he was seeing, 
so low was the dragon. A wingling, Zadok's mind noted 
calmly, a male poised somewhere between kittenhood and 
tomhood. Though he did not appear to have been flying very 
long- he lurched off balance now and again- he hovered 
with no more effort than a hummingbird, and his hungry 
gaze searched the camp. His eyes glittered as aqua as his 
scales in the shafts of dawnlight.
    Conversation gradually died as everyone turned to 
watch the dragon- except among the children, who began 
making immediate plans to tame him. The dragon did nothing 
for a few long moments, simply hovering and studying the 
scene with a dreadful intelligence in his eyes.
    Abruptly he swooped. The sentry cried out, but he was 
not the dragon's target. The wyrm skimmed low over the 
camp, claws opening wide and aiming for the captured 
horses. They snorted and tugged up their picket lines, 
although they had no chance of outrunning a dragon.
    But abruptly the young male slammed his claws shut, 
holding nothing in them, and rolled over in midair once or 
twice as he gained altitude again. The joyous expression 
in the aqua eyes told Zadok the truth; the tom hadn't been 
on a real hunt. He had only been toying with them, and 
perhaps trying to make them fear him.
    Everyone watched in silence as he disappeared farther 
into the mountains, ducking and weaving past the peaks 
like the master of flight he was. Even when he vanished, 
it was several moments before people moved to soothe the 
beasts he had stampeded.
    It was Zadok's first sight of a dragon up close, 
although he had occasionally seen one flying far away, and 
he found his heart pounding and his body shaking. But the 
sheer wonder and awe of the experience were somewhat 
corrupted by his cold anger. To play so like that... it 
indicated not only intelligence, but also an innocent 
cruelty, much like that of the cats they were often 
compared to.
    "Zadok?" Lia captured his attention, frowning 
slightly. "Why are you staring into the sky like that? 
Surely you don't think you can do anything to harm it?"
    Zadok sighed and shook off his rage. "No, likely not," 
he replied, his regretful eyes still on the heavens. "But 
if he comes back, I'll make him wish he hadn't."
    "Don't be ridiculous," the lukalia said sharply. "The 
reason I fell in love with you was not your stupidity. You 
can't be thinking to challenge one of the Great Ones in 
the middle of his own territory!"
    "We don't know it's his territory," Zadok pointed out 
absently.
    "Who cares if it is or not! We only need to get out of 
here as soon as possible." Lia regarded the peaks looming 
all around her with a look of loathing, then shivered and 
drew her cloak close around her shoulders. "These 
mountains give me a bad feeling, Zadok. They were named 
for my people- former people- but it is a very long time 
since any light Elwens lived here. Evil things have crept 
in, I think. Our only concern should be to leave as soon 
as possible," she repeated.
    Zadok hugged her, running a hand down her back to try 
and calm her shivering. "I didn't mean to deride your 
feelings, karai," he whispered, using the Primal word for 
beloved. "As a future-gazer, you're certainly more 
sensitive than most. But all we can really do is go 
forward, and however long it takes- well, that's however 
long it takes."
    The lukalia nodded, and leaned against him for a long 
moment before slowly disentangling herself. Zadok let her 
go with the same reluctance. Private moments were all too 
rare for them of late.
    Zadok, with one arm about her shoulder, led her toward 
the picket lines and gestured. "Choose one of them."
    Lia hesitated, then stepped toward a delicate bay mare 
who lifted her head and snorted softly. "I'd rather not 
have a graybrute," she said in an enchanted voice, 
scratching behind the mare's ears. The horse lowered her 
head, her breath stirring the light Elwen's hair. "They're 
so ugly."
    Zadok smiled and left Lia and her new friend to get 
acquainted, while he calmed those most frightened by the 
dragon "attack." To anyone who demanded the truth, he 
repeated the rumor he had learned from the velyni. Always, 
dark faces paled, and anxious eyes snapped up to scan the 
sky, but Zadok did not mind, so long as they did not carry 
it to the verge of open panic.
    People began mounting after a while, when horses and 
graybrutes calmed to the point of actually staying still, 
and no one but the children really watched the sky 
anymore, either in fear or in hope. Zadok did nothing to 
hurry them along. If velyn pursuit had not begun so far, 
it was unlikely to come after them in at least the next 
day. A frightened horse could run fast and far, and the 
valley Elwens, even if they had caught all of them 
already, would be unsure what had happened to the other 
hundred.
    Mounted on Kerenqui, he rode among his people, 
answering questions. Was there enough food for the horses 
and graybrutes alike? Would they cross the mountains 
relatively soon? What was the country beyond the Lukalias 
like?
    That last question came most often from Viana and the 
little group of children she had established herself as 
ringleader of. Already, they had abandoned the dream of 
taming a dragon for a new one: that of a home.
    "Think about it!" said a girl slightly older-looking 
than Viana, but still running with the younger children. 
Her dark eyes, set beneath silver hair, glowed as 
luminously as her mane. "A whole place where no can tell 
us what to do, where there's no Council or Trulae to wreck 
things! It's going to be wonderful."
    "But we'll still have to work hard," the little 
golden-eyed spoilsport of a boy reminded her. He seemed to 
take delight in smashing dreams. But the silver-haired 
girl, unlike the fiery Viana, only smiled calmly at him, 
unruffled.
    "I know. But someday we'll be able to play any way we 
like, so does the work really matter?"
    Zadok smiled and rode away from them at last. He hoped 
that someday, when he and Lia had children, they could be 
as free and high-spirited as these younglings.
    His smile abruptly faded. If he and Lia had children. 
Aside from the fact that he might not live, might die of 
the audgaoi addiction- something he refused to let hang 
over his head- there was the fact that people were 
reconsidering their original good opinion of his 
relationship with Lia. Looks followed him almost 
constantly now, and whispers gave Lia the most 
uncomplimentary name that one could give a scryer like 
her- witch.
    Zadok shook his head angrily and urged Kerenqui into a 
jump over a small stone and into the relatively uncrowded 
side of the clearing. If he lived that long- Elwens 
generally did not marry until they had lived at least 
fifteen hundred years, and he had seen only a few 
centuries- and Lia still loved him, he would marry her no 
matter what anyone said!
    Such rebellious thoughts still churned in his mind 
when a low, concerned voice said, "My lord?"
    Zadok looked up, ready to offer a bristling reply if 
anyone had come to taunt him about Lia. But instead, he 
saw Sorlenn. The young archer's golden eyes shone with 
distress, even though his voice sounded relatively calm, 
and every now and then he glanced over his shoulder, shook 
his head, or bit his lip.
    Zadok's fury died, replaced by worry of his own. "What 
is it, Sor?"
    "Shia," the flirter said abruptly, as if the question 
had broken some barrier in him. He wrung his hands before 
him. "She's-"
    "I'm sorry, Sorlenn, but I can't help you there." 
Zadok shook his head. "Not with advice- I don't know how I 
won Lia- or with-"
    "Nothing like that, my lord," Sorlenn interrupted in 
an agony of impatience. "She's gone."
    Zadok paused, blinking, his train of thought arrested. 
"Gone?" he said at last, stupidly. "Where?"
    "I don't know." Sorlenn stepped forward, catching at 
Kerenqui's mane in his fear and anger. "My lord, I haven't 
seen her since the dragon attacked. I know he didn't 
snatch her- she was right by my side when he flew off- but 
she had vanished the next time I turned to talk with her. 
I heard the Lady Lia speaking about danger in these 
mountains, my lord, and- well, I would feel better if she 
were found."
    Zadok nodded. He usually walked at the lead of the 
Arvadi anyway; he could scout for Shia without anyone 
suspecting the truth. "Any ideas?"
    "As to where she might have gone?" Zadok nodded again, 
and Sorlenn bit his lips, thinking. "She was watching the 
dragon," he said at last, almost absently, and then what 
little color remained in his face washed out, leaving it 
an almost gray mask. "Think you she might have gone after 
him, my lord?"
    Zadok reached down to lay a hand on the young man's 
shoulder. "Possibly, but we'll be traveling that way too, 
and if the dragons have any sense, they won't bother even 
a lone darkness Elwen."
    "That dragon was young, Lord," Sorlenn said 
determinedly. "I'd not count on him having sense."
    Zadok sighed regretfully as he nudged Kerenqui into a 
swaying walk. "No, likely not."
    The Arvadi stood in lines now, children and others who 
actually needed mounts in one, others who could have kept 
walking in the other. They looked at him anxiously, 
scanning his face for some sign of reassurance, and Zadok 
smiled at them. 
    "Move out," he said softly, and wheeled Kerenqui to 
the head of the line, eyes on the ground as he searched 
for Shia's tracks and nose sniffing to catch her scent. He 
found it almost immediately, the smell of night 
inexplicably mingled with the fragrance of apple blossoms, 
and followed, Kerenqui's hooves digging deeply into the 
dirt and grass.
    The song of hooves behind him almost equaled the sound 
of the waterfalls, and he smiled, despite his worry about 
velyn pursuit, despite his worry over Shia and the 
dragons. This, he felt, was the real beginning of their 
future. None of the animals they had stolen were geldings, 
and so they could breed more. Horses and graybrutes who 
could be used to pull plows, or carts, or...
    Or ride to battle, if that were truly necessary.
----------------------------------------------------------
    Zadok continued following Shia's scent when his people 
paused to rest in a saddle between peaks, somewhat puzzled 
as to where the young woman thought she was going. She had 
made no attempt to hide either scent or footprints, 
instead scrambling after the dragon as fast as her feet 
would carry her. Zadok shook his head. Generally he loved 
riddles, but he wished this one had an answer.
    He spurred Kerenqui onward with a gentle tap of heels 
against the bay flanks. Abruptly, however, it became 
harder to track her, for she had come under the cover of a 
pine grove, where pine needles and other things covered 
her tracks. Cursing, Zadok slid off and reached into his 
pack for one of the discarded lead lines, to tether 
Kerenqui until he returned. He certainly couldn't take the 
horse under the trees.
    Abruptly, however, the clamor of hooves sounded from 
behind him. Zadok whirled, a knife in his hands before he 
even thought about it, fearful it was a velyn pursuit, or, 
for some reason, a maddened horse. 
    Instead, however, Lia rode toward him, golden hair and 
cloak alike whipping behind her, as they had in the race 
yesterday. Zadok's relief at seeing her alive and 
unharmed, and not shouting his name, dissipated like the 
morning mist when he saw her eyes. Chill gripped him 
around the heart and other vitals, and he hurried forward 
to meet her.
    Those eyes stared into the distance, blank and 
unseeing blue pools with no pupil. Caught in the grip of a 
powerful vision, the woman who was a tirberad, a future- 
gazer, had rushed to find him.
    Lia's horse pulled up, stamping and sweating, foam 
pouring down her neck like rain. Zadok caught her mane 
with one hand and his love with the other as the light 
Elwen fell limply from the mare's back. Once the horse 
stopped dancing, he turned his full attention to Lia.
    "Love?" he murmured, smoothing her hair back, his 
attention fully on her eyes. "What is it?"
    He half-hoped her eyes would snap back to normal, and 
that she would laugh and grin at him. Her visions rarely 
brought anything but trouble, at least the ones that 
seemed destined to come true.
    Instead, however, the lukalia swiveled her head to 
gaze at the pine grove. When she looked back at him, the 
chill warning in her eyes had grown even deeper, and Zadok 
felt his skin crawl. The warning she gave was simple 
enough, not riddled with poetry like some of the other 
prophecies she had given.
    "If you enter that grove, you will die."
    "Why?" Zadok pleaded, shaking her a little. She 
flopped limply against his arms, like a rag doll, and he 
did his best to calm himself, gazing into her eyes and 
using his words to bring her back. "Lia- why? Come back 
and tell me why."
    A deep gasp and shudder traveled the length of the 
light Elwen's spine, and abruptly she stood. "What-" she 
began in bafflement. Then she saw Zadok and amended, "Not 
that this isn't a pleasant way to awaken, you understand. 
I just want to know why."
    "You just warned me that I'd die if I entered that 
pine grove," said Zadok, a little skeptically. He knew Lia 
didn't usually remember the words she spoke when in 
trance; he was used to that. But somehow, it never failed 
to lower their credibility in his mind.
    Lia nodded absently. "Fairly typical," she muttered to 
no one in particular. "When my visions decide they're 
going to come, they do it, and it doesn't matter what 
they're about."
    "What was-" Zadok began, and saw the shuttered 
expression in her eyes. He sighed, releasing her. "Forget 
I asked," he said wearily, rubbing dirt and sweat from his 
face. "But I have to enter that grove."
    "No, you don't."
    She could be so stubborn where his safety was 
concerned, and in this case Zadok saw no remedy but to 
tell her the truth. "Shia's disappeared. I've found her 
trail-" he indicated a bit of it unscuffed by Lia's 
galloping horse "-and she went into that grove. I have to 
find her. Sorlenn's frantic about her, but he's not much 
of a tracker."
    "I say she's being snatched by a dragon and that trail 
was laid by dragon magic to fool you," Lia proclaimed, 
turning to stare rather darkly at the pines. "It's 
probably a trap that's waiting in there for you, and not 
Shia."
    "Then do you want to enter and see if her scent and 
footprints go on?" Zadok snapped. "Assuming you can even 
find them in that clutter of needles-"
    He was interrupted by the trees silently shimmering 
and vanishing. Kerenqui, abruptly free of his half-secured 
tether, danced back, snorting.
    A dragon, likely the young male who had attacked their 
camp earlier that morning, lay there instead, glaring 
balefully at Zadok. The darkness Elwen caught only a bare 
glimpse of aqua magnificence, gleaming claws and folded 
wings, blue-green light from eyes as large as a dozen 
Elwens' heads, before he dropped his eyes defensively. 
Gazing into a dragon's eyes could drain the will, so tales 
said, leave the body paralyzed and helpless for the wyrm 
to toy with.
    The young dragon launched himself skyward, making the 
ground tremble and quake and Kerenqui bolt, screaming 
hideously. For a moment, he hovered overhead, his wings 
sending down gusts of wind that almost battered the Elwens 
from their feet. Zadok fought to stand; somehow he felt it 
was important to keep his dignity, if nothing else, 
squarely in front of this dragon.
    "It was a good trap," a deep voice rumbled suddenly, 
in disgust, speaking the ancient tongue, Primal. "It would 
have worked, if not for your machinations, future-gazer." 
This was trailed by a rather ominous silence.
    Zadok raised his head warily, wondering if the dragon 
had flown away, to try again at a later time. He got his 
answer when he met, not dragon eyes, but a gaping, 
stretching maw lined with foot-long fangs.