Strands of Destiny
                         Prologue
           1,999,999, Late Autumn, Age of Life
    Maruss Freewind snorted into his pillow and woke with 
a start. Sitting up and glancing around, he could not at 
first remember where he was. The black shapes around him 
looked blurred and indistinct in the starlight, even to 
his night-sensitive curalli eyes.
    Then memory tumbled from his own bed, and Maruss 
relaxed as it came rushing back. He lay surrounded by 
friends- his foster brother Geruth Lilacshadow, and his 
dear friends Jesartlu Durillo, Jierran, and Rengardlu. He 
was perfectly safe- even from the attacks of those star- 
cursed dreams, this time. He had, to his own amazement, 
slept dreamlessly for the past week.
    He sat up slowly, shivering at the chill bite of the 
air for a moment before he adjusted his body temperature. 
Satisfied, the shadowed Elwen stepped from his blankets 
and into an especially bright patch of starlight, 
smoothing the wrinkles from his tunic as he did so. A 
moment later he caught himself, stopping with an 
embarrassed laugh. It was not as if he had an audience.
    Well, in one way he did have.
    Maruss tilted his head up, eyes slowly sweeping across 
the sky in a patient search that had become very familiar 
to him. At last his eyes lighted on the star he wanted. It 
was different every night, but very distinctive: the only 
star in the sky to glow with anything like green light.
    Shooting a glance behind him, Maruss listened once 
more to the soft breathing of his friends, judging its 
rhythm and cadences. Knowing that no one was likely to 
wake up soon, the curalli turned and trotted away from the 
blankets, melting into the night.
    She only came to him when he was alone.
    He was about a mile away from the encampment when the 
starlight about him suddenly brightened. He jerked to a 
stop, catching his breath in wonder, as always. He might 
not have very much love for the stars- if they truly 
controlled the fates of Elwens, they had much to answer 
for in his case- but he could still recognize a thing of 
beauty when he saw it.
    Drops of starlight fell like rain or the tears 
creeping down Maruss's cheeks, assembling into a slender, 
silver figure. Lithe, in the manner of all Elwens, she 
stood a little taller than Maruss, with proud eyes and a 
stubborn chin. Long arms, ending in slender hands tipped 
with the black lines of digging claws, unfolded and 
reached toward him.
    Maruss came into her arms and held her until her ribs 
creaked in warning. Her return embrace was enough to leave 
him gasping. For long moments they stood simply embracing,  
trying to communicate their love as words could not.
    Maruss felt his old grief stir inside him again. He 
had chosen to stay alive, not to follow Myyti into death- 
the usual recourse of an Elwen when his or her beloved 
died. But the didn't mean he couldn't feel. Though he 
would not change his choice, he could still regret the 
decision, feel guilty about it, and grieve at how short 
his love's life had been.
    Myyti lifted her head and kissed him gently, running 
her fingers through his hair. Maruss closed his eyes and 
wearily leaned against her. Not that his tasks these past 
days had been so very oppressing, but they had felt much 
lighter when she was there to share the weight.
    When he opened his eyes, Myyti was staring about, 
partially in amusement, partially in amazement. "You 
really have made it almost to Gatethrough Pass. 
Congratulations."
    Maruss smiled. "Thank you." His smile faded as his own 
problem dropped on him like a cloak again. He hated to 
burden her with it, but he could at least ask her opinion. 
"Karai," he said, calling her by the Primal word for 
beloved, "Jierran and Rengardlu seem to have remembered 
the antipathy of their ancestors. They'll listen to me, 
but only for a short while. I can't talk reason into them. 
Their hatred, like hatred so much of the time, is 
unreasonable. Do you have any suggestions?"
    Myyti smiled wryly in the dark. "If it were any silver 
unicorn other than Jierran, I couldn't say I blamed 
Rengardlu. After what the silverini did to his people, 
persecuting them so thoroughly even the free races 
believed they were dead-" The verde shook her head, silver 
eyes sorrowful. "And it can't help that Jierran is 
Destria's son."
    Maruss made a non-committal noise. No matter how long 
the others lived around Jierran, there were times they 
couldn't see anything but a son of the Emperor of the 
Silverini. They would not accept that he absolutely 
loathed his father and the slavery his people practiced, 
and had long ago turned against them. "But you don't think 
Rengardlu is justified?"
    "Of course not." Myyti looked shocked. "Hatred is 
never justified."
    Maruss kept his opinions on that topic to himself. He 
didn't want any reminders of how far apart they had grown 
since Myyti's departure to the stars. "Well, then, do you 
know how I should deal with them?"
    For a moment, Myyti was silent, frowning. Then she 
shook her head. "I am not sure, mind. This is only a 
suggestion."
    Maruss steered her to sit on a log, where he settled 
himself more comfortably in the crook of her starlit arm. 
"I'm all ears," he promised.
    Myyti ruffled his hair as her mother Maana had used to 
do, but her smile was abstracted. "Could you not ask them 
to work together to solve some problem- something that 
wouldn't get them totally into a shouting match? I've seen 
them help each other sometimes. Perhaps you simply need to 
remind them of that. They must feel the common bond of 
unicorn kinship, if nothing else."
    Maruss nodded slowly. "It's a thought." He smiled at 
her. "Thank you."
    Myyti glanced at the east, where the faint blue finger 
of dawn was beginning to appear through the skeletal bare 
branches of the trees. "I'll have to leave soon. But 
first, I wanted to speak to you about something."
    "What about?" Maruss asked casually, but his muscles 
tensed. He had never been very good at hiding any emotion 
other than anger, and the most careful pretenses couldn't 
fool the woman he had loved. He decided to make his 
suspicions clear, coming straight to the heart of things 
with his usual honesty. "I haven't had the dreams for some 
days now, Myyti."
    The underground Elwen's arm tightened on his shoulder, 
almost a possessive clutch. "I know, Maruss. You told me 
the first night they stopped. But-" She gave a harsh 
little laugh. "I must admit that existence among the stars 
is not all joy. I can still look down on you and feel 
emotion." She tried to turn it into a joke, not very 
successfully. "I'll be jealous of the luck of any woman 
who wins your heart."
    Maruss checked an impatient sigh. They had been over 
this and over this. He had been sure that Myyti held no 
further doubts of his loyalty to her memory. "Myyti, I 
never have loved anyone but you, and I never will. Can't 
you believe that?" Despite himself, his voice ended on a 
wistful note.
    "I know," Myyti murmured, eyes on his hand, running 
her digging claws lightly over his fingers. "But- oh, 
Maruss, I have no real right to be envious. Still, there I 
am. Dreams and fate are not to be defied."
    "You know my essencename, Alvied," Maruss replied. He 
lifted their joined hands to his lips, kissing hers. "Can 
you believe dreams will give me so much trouble, when I 
have defeated their mistress?"
    "Kappama," Myyti mused, bringing her other hand up to 
stroke his cheek. "The Master of Fate. Still-" She took a 
deep breath, and Maruss knew it tore her soul out to say 
what she said next. "I wouldn't want you to reject a gift 
of love, Maruss, and possibly wound both the giver and 
yourself beyond healing. If you find you love someone 
else, please don't fear my wrath."
    "I assuredly won't," said Maruss dryly, "because I'm 
not going to fall in love with anyone else. I've been 
trying to make the decisions that govern my life with my 
head, not my heart- which you have irrevocably claimed, 
star-lady. Anyone who wants it can fly to the heavens to 
claim it if they wish. And somehow, I don't think you'd be 
too willing to give it up."
    Myyti smiled, glancing at the east as she did so. "I 
have to go," she said with obvious regret, rising to her 
feet and wrapping her arms around his neck.
    Maruss nodded. No matter how many times they separated 
anew, the grief tore at his soul. "Stars speed you on your 
way, Alvied," he said softly, and closed his eyes to keep 
back tears at the irony. Alvied. With the sun. She had 
told him the name of her soul only a day before the stars 
claimed her.
    "And you, Lamarten," said Myyti, addressing him by his 
other essencename. An excess of curiosity. Opening his 
eyes, he saw her smiling. "Try not to live up to your 
name, hmmm?"
    Maruss nodded, and moved to kiss her one more time. 
This time he shut his eyes so as not to see her melt like 
ice before the sun, fleeing back to the stars before they 
vanished.
    Oddly, it was as he was standing there, feeling lost 
and alone, that the solution for the problem of Jierran 
and Rengardlu came into his head. If he could arrange, on 
their way through Gatethrough Pass, for a slight accident 
to happen to one of them, he was sure the other would leap 
to save the one in danger. They had a closer friendship 
then they had let on, and as Myyti had said, that common 
bond of unicorn kinship. Even if they refused to aid each 
other, his powerful magic would remove the danger.
    Satisfied, Maruss wandered back to his place and 
curled up in his bedding. He didn't expect to sleep until 
someone else woke him up, but the others didn't 
particularly like him to speak or think of Myyti. Best if 
they never knew about these nightly visits.
    There came a quiet buzz by his side, and Maruss rolled 
over, cocking a brow. "Yes, Starsheen?"
    The sentient knife in a jeweled sheath at his side 
touched his thoughts with a determination Maruss had not 
often felt in him. ^She didn't mean it, you know. She does 
mind if you love someone else.^
    ^She needn't,^ Maruss replied, keeping his soundless 
sigh concealed from the knife. He really had thought her 
healed of it this time, optimist that he was. ^I'll never 
fall in love with anyone else. I wish she could bring 
herself to trust me.^
    ^Oh, she shouldn't.^
    ^What?^ Maruss growled, turning to stare at the knife. 
Starsheen knew him better than anyone after Myyti. He 
should; some of the curalli's essence had been forged into 
his steel. ^You know me, Starsheen. I wouldn't betray 
her.^
    ^No.^ The knife abruptly vibrated with anger. ^But you 
would deny yourself- and someone else- companionship, 
love! You're lonely, Maruss. You keep the others at a 
distance you never kept her. It's time to face up to the 
fact that she's dead, and you can love someone else.^ The 
blade paused. ^And should someone show up, I will do 
everything in my power to help her win your heart.^
    Furious, Maruss shut off the telepathic link and 
pushed himself into slumber. No. He wouldn't love again.




                        Chapter 1
                       Gatethrough
    The morning sun hung like an overripe lemon in the 
whiteness of the winter sky. Maruss's breath puffed out 
before him in steamy silver clouds as he slogged toward 
the opening, visible at long last.
    Ahead towered the last slopes of the Cloudy Mountains 
and Hope Mountains, sheared away as suddenly as if a giant 
knife had cut through them. Gatethrough wound into the 
distance, swiftly widening from a narrow crack to a path a 
thousand miles across. Or so the map said. Maruss had 
never been so far north before, and his southern blood 
found such a thing hard to credit.
    He was having trouble enough with the snow. Oh, varied 
Minamar was tropical in summer and buried in feet of snow 
in the winter. But the drifts, his mind argued, should be 
chest-high, not up to his knees- just large enough to be 
inconvenient. And not green, but a deep indigo, almost the 
color of the hair, now down to his shoulders, that tumbled 
continually into his violet eyes.
    It wasn't right.
    Behind him spread the rest of the group, gamely 
slogging, as he did, through the snowdrifts- with the 
exception of Geruth. Maruss saw his foster brother from 
the corner of his eye, wheeling high above the snow with 
no wings but those of the magic in his body, and shook his 
head in exasperated amusement. Geruth had an advantage, 
that no one would deny, but did he have to look so damned 
smug about it?
    He turned to look over his shoulder, making sure the 
rest could keep up. Jesartlu, of course, walked with his 
head bowed to the cold. Of all of them, the land Elwen 
suffered most, having neither cold adaption nor magic to 
fly nor the undoubted help of being native to this 
country. But the master fighter would not speak a word of 
complaint, and would walk until he dropped dead if 
necessary, Maruss gave himself a mental reminder to check 
the land Elwen when they stopped tonight. He might have 
wounds only magic could heal.
    Jierran walked far apart from Rengardlu, but they 
maintained the same pace, as if neither one wanted to let 
the enemy out of his sight. The silver unicorn looked 
perfectly comfortable; like Maruss, he was a creature of 
ice. The violet eyes that could tear any creature's soul 
to pieces, enslaving him or her instantly, were bent on 
the ground, as well as blindfolded.
    Rengardlu glowed a bright contrast to Jierran's dainty 
silver beauty, looking like a moving blotch of blood on 
the bright green snow. The rufouso was at least eight feet 
tall, looking more equine than any unicorn Maruss had ever 
met, muscles rippling under the sleek crimson coat. His 
horn, seemingly made of red glass, was lowered, as if to 
hide the brilliant green eyes that could flare with temper 
at any time. He walked with almost scornful ease, hopping 
over the snowdrifts his great strength could not split. 
But, after all, he had been born here.
    Maruss, watching the two stallions, hoped desperately 
that his plan would work. Every temper in the group was 
short today, with the bad weather that had kept them 
motionless part of yesterday and the constant plunging of 
the temperature. Even the stoic Jesartlu and mild Geruth 
had gotten into a snapping match, and Maruss had felt his 
own icy fire more than once. So far, he was the only one 
in the group who had managed to keep calm- at least, not 
to express his anger openly.
    ^Calm, are you?^ Starsheen's taunting voice rang in 
his head. ^So self-controlled and smooth, are you?^ A 
mental snort, and, as it had a habit of doing in times of 
great emotion, Starsheen's voice became a copy of 
Maruss's. ^You won't listen to me; you haven't spoken to 
me since I promised you-^
    ^Shut up, Starsheen,^ Maruss snarled warningly, trying 
to dismiss the pleasure at finally venting his spleen, and 
especially at someone who deserved it. ^I can't talk about 
something that won't happen right now. I have other things 
to worry about.^ He leapt lightly over a snowdrift and 
tilted up his head, scanning the sky. The unicorns 
sometimes used flying creatures as spies.
    ^Assuredly you do,^ said Starsheen acidly, but did 
fall silent.
    Maruss sent a glance upward again, but this time it 
lingered on the slopes of the mountains. He admired their 
enormity, their silent strength. The green snow on their 
barely visible peaks would give way to steel-gray on the 
other side, he knew, where the province of Fhevu had its 
own laws.
    Maruss cast an irritated look over his shoulder as 
someone called his name, but swiftly smoothed his 
features. They needed him to seem calm, even if he really 
wasn't.
    Jesartlu was leaning on his sword, which was stuck 
point-down in the snow. His eyes were closed, and he 
panted wearily, but still he showed no outward sign of 
pain. Jierran and Rengardlu both stood regarding him with 
concern, but pointedly did not look at each other.
    His anger forgotten, Maruss leaped back, his curalli 
grace carrying him lightly over the deeper drifts. Landing 
in front of the land Elwen, he said softly, inquiringly, 
"Jes?"
    The warrior lifted his head and shook it. His deep 
blue hair fell into black eyes filmed with exhaustion, but 
still proudly stubborn. "I'm sorry, my lord. I didn't hear 
you coming. Are you all right?"
    Maruss bit back his retort that that might be a more 
useful question applied to Jesartlu himself. The land 
Elwen would never forgive him for making him seem weak. 
Nor did he mention disease or injury. He simply said 
casually, "I'm all right. Do you think this would be a 
good place to make a camp?"
    It was a ridiculous question, out on an open plain as 
they were with no shelter closer than the mountains, but 
it was a tacit inquiry if Jes needed rest.
    The land Elwen shook his head. "I think we would do 
better under an overhang or in a cave in Gatethrough Pass. 
I, for one, will welcome warmth again." It was as close as 
he would come to an admission of weakness.
    Maruss quietly reached for his magic. It hummed and 
sang in his veins as he wove an intangible bubble of 
warmth around Jesartlu. With any luck, his friend wouldn't 
sense it, and he couldn't smell the magic. With this wind 
whipping snow into their faces, Maruss doubted anyone 
could smell much of anything. 
    The curalli feared the land Elwen might have frostbite 
or some such thing, but knew he would never persuade him 
to show them. "So will I," he admitted easily. "The 
thought of a fire seems a luxury..."
    His voice trailed off as he mentally smacked himself 
in the forehead. How utterly stupid he was! He constantly 
forgot how useful and varied his magic was. "Excuse me," 
he murmured, his face flushing, and conjured a smokeless 
flame that floated in the air, shedding a circle of 
radiant warmth.
    Neither of the unicorns appeared to need it, but Jes 
unconsciously moved a step closer. He appeared almost 
comfortable again, and his shivering had nearly stopped. 
Maruss viewed him with discreet approval for a moment, 
then moved away. When the flame would have followed him, 
he sent it a mental command to dart among the others in a 
random circular path. Jes could take advantage of the 
warmth without appearing to do so.
    ^That was kindly done,^ Starsheen observed in his head 
as he resumed his place at the front.
    Maruss glanced at the sentient knife in surprise. ^He 
wouldn't admit he was cold, or wounded, or whatever it 
really was. I'm not going to force him. Respect, 
Starsheen. A lesson,^ he added delicately, ^that it 
wouldn't kill you to learn.^
    ^I'll give it to you when you're worth it,^ Starsheen 
retorted.
    A silence chillier than the air was between them for 
the rest of the day.
----------------------------------------------------------
    They came upon the entrance to the Pass when the sun 
was just beginning to fall west. Maruss glanced about 
nervously as the mountains began to loom over him rather 
than just in front. No curalli liked enclosed spaces, and 
Maruss had had more than enough experiences to instill 
that hereditary dislike as a conscious fear.
    Geruth circled down and landed before him as Maruss 
hopped gingerly over a drift-covered boulder. The 
viaquia's deep purple cheeks were slightly reddened from 
the wind, and his lilac hair had become hopelessly 
disordered. But his deep blue eyes sparked with good 
humor, and his bow was even more flippant than usual. 
"Shall I hunt for our vespermeal, lord?"
    Maruss groaned silently at the title and nodded. The 
viaquia smiled, showing his lengthening fangs, and hopped 
into the air. Sunset was coming on, and what better hunter 
at this time than a sunset Elwen?
    He began looking for a cave, but for a time the rocky 
walls wound past without a noticeable break. Maruss longed 
impatiently for the darkness, when his superb eyes would 
allow him to see things ten times more clearly than most 
creatures could in daylight.
    Bells rang as unicorn hooves cracked and rebounded off 
stone. Maruss glanced behind him and made a small 
exasperated sound in his throat. Jierran and Rengardlu 
walked as far apart from each other as the still 
relatively narrow pass would allow. Jierran was wrinkling 
his nostrils at the unfamiliar smells of stone and rock 
dust, occasionally tilting his head up as if he could 
sense the mountains bending malevolently over him. 
Rengardlu walked as if utterly bored, yawning now and then 
and casting disgusted looks at Jierran's gaping.
    Maruss silently wove the magic to push them slightly 
closer together. The unicorns obeyed without realizing 
they were doing so, and Maruss let triumph fill him for a 
moment. He had them right where he wanted them. Now, if he 
could only make this work...
    Perfect. A boulder perched on a broad ledge some 
distance up one smooth stone wall. Under the gentle prod 
of Maruss's telekinesis, it teetered, grumbled, and 
bounded over the edge, rumbling toward them with a deadly 
song.
    Jierran stared around, blind and unable to accurately 
hear what direction the danger was coming from, for the 
echoes the stone roused bounced from all sides. Maruss 
felt sorry for causing him such fear, but he could stop 
the rock at any time, after all. He simply wanted to see 
if this would work.
    Rengardlu paused for a long, agonizing moment, then 
flung himself at Jierran, screaming a warning. The silver 
unicorn whirled around, horn lowered, his movements shaky 
as a young colt's. Rengardlu's hooves hit him, flinging 
him from the stone's path before the red unicorn galloped 
away himself.
    The stone rolled by where they had been, past where 
Jesartlu flattened himself against the stone wall, and on 
down the channel of the Pass. For a long moment, its 
thunder echoed back to them, finally subsiding into 
silence.
    The two unicorns were the first to stumble back into 
the center of the Pass, both peering up anxiously, even 
the blindfolded Jierran. Then they both turned their heads 
and stared at each other. Rengardlu's green eyes were 
indecisive, and from what Maruss could see of Jierran's 
silver face, he looked startled and confused.
    "I've hated the silverini all my life for what they 
did to my people," Rengardlu said suddenly. Jierran did 
not stiffen, and Maruss knew why: Rengardlu had said the 
silverini, not "you silverini." "But I found I could not 
hate the wilder silverini. Silmisa and Garaldon were as 
intelligent as any rufousos. They had many of the same 
beliefs my kind does-"
    "Our kind," Jierran corrected gently, his breath 
steaming up before his face. 
    "Yes," said Rengardlu, after only an instant's 
hesitation. A small smile grew on his lips. "Yes, we are 
both unicorns, are we not? Yes, our kind has beliefs 
opposing those of your former people, Jierran. I wish now 
to apologize for the insult I gave you in considering you 
one of them. I was judging too much by the color of your 
coat, instead of the color of your soul."
    "I did the same thing." Jierran's voice was low, 
apologetic. "And I have no defense to offer. I can only 
ask that you forgive me."
    Rengardlu inclined his head. Maruss turned his head 
and looked up to hide a smile of satisfaction.
    And blinked, his smile slowly widening into one of 
delight. The boulder had been wedged into the entrance of 
a cave- a deep one, to judge from the depth of the 
darkness in its mouth. He thought they had found their 
camp for the night.
    He laid one hand on the rock wall and began to climb, 
moving over the rough stone as easily as a spider on a 
wall. All curalli had the climbing talent, and Maruss had 
utilized it often enough to be a skilled and graceful 
climber. He made it to the lip of the cave and peered in 
cautiously, almost expecting to be charged by an angry 
inhabitant.
    But though the cave bore signs of use, all were 
ancient, and nothing stirred in it. Maruss's eyes climbed 
the patterns carved into the stone, and he frowned 
thoughtfully. A series of three interlocking triangles, 
repeated over and over. Where had he seen...
    Of course. Maruss felt his breath whistle between his 
teeth and firmly calmed his fear. He had often made use of 
the gifts and abandoned places of the alfari. There was no 
need to be frightened of this one. Still, as the only 
member of the group with the magic to deal with any traps 
that might be laid, he ought to explore first. He swung 
himself inside effortlessly, rising slowly to his feet.
    He reached his full height without any incident, 
either magical or physical. He stood only five feet tall, 
unusually short for an Elwen, and the cave arched four 
feet higher than that. He relaxed slightly and stared 
around curiously.
    Alfari built their places to last for centuries- 
eternity, perhaps- but whatever had been in this one must 
have been destroyed or removed. Little remained but for 
the delicate carved patterns and something in the corner 
opposite the entrance draped with a rotting cloth.
    The cave was circular and very large, as he had seen, 
stretching back for perhaps two hundred feet before 
bending into a narrow tunnel that must lead deep into the 
earth. Maruss knelt down and ran his sensitive fingers 
over the floor where it joined the wall. Strong, seamless 
stone, fashioned and supported by magic. No danger of this 
collapsing on them.
    Still, he didn't intend to be caught from behind by 
something nasty. He wove magic over the tunnel entrance, a 
transparent barrier as strong as stone, and turned, 
meaning to call to his friends and tell them he had found 
a haven.
    But, for some reason, the cloth-draped thing drew him. 
Telling himself he would just make sure it wasn't 
dangerous, Maruss reached out a hand and gripped the rags. 
They fell apart at his touch, revealing a circular object 
propped awkwardly against the wall, as if it had been 
placed there in haste. It was so covered with dust and 
some unpleasant blackish substance that Maruss could not 
tell what it was. He conjured a flame, brighter in the 
dark than the fading, pale sunlight falling through the 
entrance, and held his hand, from which the fire sprang, 
near the black stuff.
    It caught at once, smoldering and bursting into flame 
within an instant. Maruss remained confident it wouldn't 
hurt the object. It smelled of metal- silver, more 
precisely- not wood or any other flammable substance.
    Soon enough black flakes had fallen to the floor to 
let him make out the fancifully carved silver frame. The 
alfar pattern twined among abstract geometrical shapes, 
visions of birds and flowers that could only have come 
from a madman's mind, things that might have been meant to 
be stars or jewels. Maruss frowned, both at its oddness 
and at the chill fingers of familiarity brushing his 
spine.
    He had seen something like this before, only much 
larger, and then had not known what it was. This was a 
smaller copy of the mirror he had once possessed in 
Sweptoromaru, the now-destroyed Annihilator stronghold. It 
had seemingly had no special properties, but one could 
never tell...
    Against his better judgment, he brushed the flecks of 
slime and less pleasant things from the mirror's glass 
surface. It felt cool as the frost, but warmed so swiftly 
under his hand that Maruss looked at it warily.
    The sunlight winked and flashed from its surface, 
momentarily blinding him. When he could see again, the 
mirror was filled with a haze of gold.
    Maruss drew away, but then paused, staring at the 
mirror. He could feel the magic within him rising in his 
blood, tingling, responding. Not surprising, as this was 
an alfar artifact and his magic had originally been a gift 
from the alfari. But- did he really want to press his 
mastery of the gift that far?
    He drew a deep breath, told himself that he was 
trembling from excitement and not fear, and tilted the 
mirror to catch the sunlight once more.
    The golden haze flashed and glowed for a moment, 
refusing to form a comprehensive picture, then shaped 
itself into a face. A golden face, a face crowned with 
blond hair and marred with silver-gold eyes that stared 
into the distance with blank anger and despair. Maruss 
blinked. If he was not seeing some image conjured out of 
his own wistful hopes, this must mean Aeren had escaped 
from the destruction of the Annihilators at the 
Shattering.
    But what had happened to the dawn Elwen to so horribly 
change him? Before, even in his bleakest moments, he had 
appeared alive and full of energy. Now, he seemed bent 
only on death, but whether for himself or someone else, 
Maruss didn't know.
    The scene in the mirror widened, drawing back to show 
that Aeren was clambering through an icy tunnel. Maruss 
gasped. The tunnel in the Coldors was one he himself had 
passed through on his way to Cytheria. The alalori bent to 
sniff the ice with practiced grace, then lifted his head 
and stared along the corridor. For a moment he looked 
blankly into nothingness, silver and gold of his eyes both 
clouded with grief.
    Then a terrible, feral smile crept across his golden 
features. He trotted forward with silent, flowing Elwen 
grace, vanishing around a bend in the ice. Maruss shivered 
without understanding why as the scene in the mirror 
shifted.
    He almost cried aloud in joy at the next face he 
glimpsed. Covered with dark blue skin spangled with tiny 
silver dots that looked like stars, it appeared to be 
looking right at him with gold-green eyes like spring 
leaves in sunshine. Dark blue hair, touched here and there 
with an elusive hint of silver, tumbled around her 
features. Elenyi Starwolf, his foster sister, looked 
wasted and gaunt, but still determined to go on with life.
    Again the scene widened, opening into a room through 
which silver light blazed. Maruss felt his heart swell 
again as he realized where Elenyi must be- safe in the 
underground Wolf-home named after her. At the moment, 
Elenyi was studying a map by the silver sunlight, lips 
moving as she looked at it. For a moment her changeable 
eyes lit with hope, and she rose as if about to call out 
to someone. Then she threw the map on the table before 
her, cradled her head on folded arms, and sobbed with 
weariness and grief.
    Maruss felt himself reach out, instinctively, a tiny 
comforting tendril of thought. It wouldn't do any good, of 
course. He had used a scrying device before, and the 
person being scried couldn't respond unless he or she had 
an identical dev-
    Elenyi sprang to her feet, trembling and staring about 
wildly. For a moment her features flowed into those of a 
wolf, but she controlled the Shift and stared straight 
ahead. Her lips moved in the one word Maruss had become 
skilled at reading: his own name. For a moment, she again 
looked hopeful.
    But then she shook her head with determination and sat 
back down at the table. The map was pushed to one side by 
one of her dark hands, and she bent over a parchment 
filled with small, precise writing. Unheeded, perhaps even 
unnoticed, silver tears streamed down her cheeks.
    Maruss wondered what she could be crying about as the 
picture faded. He settled back against the stone, cradling 
the mirror gently in his hands, wondering what it would 
show him next.
    "Maruss!"
    The urgent sound of his name caused Maruss to snap his 
head up and jump to his feet, pulling the mirror out of 
the sunlight as he did so. At once the golden haze faded, 
the glass surface reflecting only his own surprised face.
    Geruth stood in the entrance to the cave, a brace of 
birds cradled in his arms, a look of disbelief tinged with 
worry on his face. He came slowly toward his brother, as 
if making sure Maruss were real, before laying down the 
birds and smiling uncertainly.
    "I wasn't sure if you heard me," he said softly. "You 
were staring into nothingness so hard I could almost feel 
your concentration."
    Maruss looked at the mirror in his hand. It was 
perfectly obvious to him, but perhaps only those with 
alfar magic could see it. "Nothing to worry over," he said 
lightly as he slipped the mirror into a pouch hanging from 
his belt. "You know how I get lost sometimes. Thanks for 
bringing me back."
    The viaquia picked up the birds and tossed them to 
Maruss, a reminiscent smile wandering across his lips. 
"Stars, do you remember how it used to be? You read a 
book, whether or not it was the one Maana told you to 
read, as if you were hunting down elusive prey. I had to 
dump ice water over your head once to get your attention."
    Maruss smiled wryly. "You got my attention. I recall 
you ruined a page of the book as well, and earned yourself 
a punch in the eye for it, too."
    Geruth, appearing comforted at this reliving of common 
memories, grinned unrepentantly. "Yes, and you were 
spanked."
    "You exaggerated how badly your eye hurt," Maruss 
retorted, taking the birds toward the center of the cave. 
Each bird had been killed by a neat thrust through the 
throat. The two holes, tiny but ultimately fatal, were 
surrounded on each by a ring of crimson.
    "I did not!" Geruth sounded wounded, but laughter 
trembled below the surface of his voice. "You can throw a 
wicked punch when you want to!"
    Maruss smiled but did not respond, letting the 
memories die away naturally into a pleasant silence. 
Better that than to remember, inevitably, that Maana was 
dead, Myyti was dead, their foster brother Phaedon 
Shoregazer was dead. So many gone, so many who had been an 
intricate part of their first forty-eight years of life.
    And others, who had come to mean as much to Maruss in 
the short months he had known them as his family did. 
    The curalli laid stones swiftly in a ring for a 
firepit and asked his brother to hunt for kindling while 
he made his way to the front of the cave and wove magic. 
The wall was far too sheer for the unicorns to climb to 
the cave, and Maruss was not about to let the shivering, 
exhausted Jesartlu try it. Maruss's conjured flame hovered 
unobtrusively near all the time now; it was a mark of 
Jes's weakness that he didn't protest its presence. But 
even its magical warmth was failing to chase the chill 
away from whatever injury Jesartlu hid.
    Before the trio formed a solid ramp of golden magic. 
Rengardlu, his nostrils flaring nervously, stepped onto 
the ramp, then drew a hoof back. Jes barely appeared to 
notice, shivering with his head down, not looking beyond 
his own misery.
    Jierran coolly strode up the ramp, as if he had been 
doing this all his life, which he probably had. His father 
was a powerful mage, and unicorns often used other 
contraptions instead of stairs. He made it to the top 
without incident, trotted into the cave, and curled up 
next to the unfinished firepit.
    Ren was next, but even the unicorn's nervous snorts 
and trembles didn't rouse Jes. Maruss stared at the land 
Elwen, noting the pale skin, the glazed eyes, the way he 
appeared to hunch around his hands...
    Maruss's lips compressed into a thin line. He felt 
angry at himself for not recognizing more quickly the 
signs of frostbite, but mingled with his anger was 
determination. This time, respect be damned. If Jes's 
pride led him to refuse help of his own accord, Maruss 
would simply have to put him to sleep and heal him without 
his willing cooperation.
    The curalli trotted down the ramp to the land Elwen, 
lightly touching his arm. The fighter didn't react. 
Frowning, Maruss placed a hand on Jes's shoulder.
    And gasped, for he could feel wild, flaring heat. It 
took him a moment to recognize it for the artificial heat 
of a fever, and to realize there was nothing to warm Jes 
beyond that. He had given up completely on adjusting his 
body temperature.
    "Fool," Maruss murmured as he wove hasty, inelegant 
magic, sending Jes to sleep before the land Elwen could 
object. His telekinesis, augmented by his power, picked 
the sick land Elwen up and sent him coasting up to the 
cave. Maruss followed on the ramp, not so concerned that 
he would flagrantly abuse his magic by flying up after 
Jes.
    As he reached the top of the ramp, a loud, crisp sound 
rang out over the world, the sound of a footstep breaking 
a thin crust of ice. Maruss looked wildly at the peaks for 
a moment before realizing it had come from beneath him. 
Slowly, he tilted his head downward.
    Beneath him in the snow, at the foot of the fading 
magical ramp, stood a land Elwen. His features were sharp, 
his skin unusually pale, and the only protection he wore 
against the cold was a shimmering cloak and tunic as red 
as the bands of skin encircling his wrists. His face was 
pure and cold as the winter moon, and, as he stared at 
Maruss, etched with hate.
    The curalli shivered- as if they didn't have enough 
problems already- and ducked into the cave.
----------------------------------------------------------
    Maruss sat back on his heels and released a long, 
trembling breath. If they had walked only a few more 
hours, Jes could well have been dead. As it was, Maruss 
wondered how pride had kept him going this long.
    The land Elwen had a bad case of frostbite, a worse 
fever, an even worse cough, and a broken rib that he might 
have acquired in any number of interesting ways. He lay 
near the fire now, wrapped in as many blankets as they 
could spare, head pillowed on his pack. Maruss had healed 
the rib and the frostbite, but had been too weary to drive 
the sickness from his lungs. They would be unable to move 
for a time yet.
    The exhausted curalli stared at the slumbering land 
Elwen and slowly shook his head, though he had to smile 
slightly. Sometimes, he wasn't much better, insisting on 
being up before the healers said he could. Of course, such 
incidents had been rare after he became a healer himself.
    The others sat on the other side of the fire, speaking 
quietly, their conversation wandering through Primal and 
the silverini tongue. Everyone seemed content to leave him 
alone, and Maruss used the rare quiet to confide to 
someone who wouldn't repeat what he heard.
    "I saw Salsi in the Pass," he mused, putting his head 
in his hands and rubbing his aching temples. The tightness 
around his eyes signaled the arrival of a fatiguing 
headache. "I can't tell the others. They've got enough to 
worry about. And, at any rate, I thought the lord of the 
winter moon had forgiven me for my so-called 
transgression. If he hasn't..." Maruss's voice trailed 
off, and he shrugged. If Salsi hadn't, gods were liars. 
But then, he had always known that.
    Maruss darted a quick look out the mouth of the cave. 
The moons were rising in the dark white sky, red-white 
Salsi in the forefront. Maruss imagined he could feel the 
moon glaring malevolently at him. Behind him floated 
Rareth, the purple moon of spring, and Takon, aqua lord of  
the summer, beloved of the silverini. 
    The shadowed Elwen's gaze abruptly slid past the 
winter moon to focus on the summer. Takon. For him, the 
divine powers of Arcadia had sworn not to interfere with 
the rise of the Silver Unicorn Empire. Out of misplaced 
compassion, and that emotion Maruss hated, pity, millions 
had died. He wondered if the gods considered it a fair 
price.
    "Ah, well," he mused, looking back at Jesartlu 
affectionately. "Some of the gods do tell the truth some 
of the time. And one of them did ask me to keep you safe." 
He wagged a scolding finger at the land Elwen. "Nystze 
will be most displeased if you kill yourself for the sake 
of pride."
    Jes stirred, and for a moment Maruss's hopes soared. 
But the land Elwen lapsed so quickly back into sleep that 
Maruss almost couldn't be sure he'd seen the small 
movement. With a soundless sigh, the curalli reached out 
and pulled the blankets more securely around his friend.
    "Heal," he murmured, turning to stare into the flames, 
hoping their ever-shifting colors would help to relieve 
the headache now attacking in earnest. "That's all I ask."
----------------------------------------------------------
    Maruss lifted his head, startled. He lay dozing by the 
ashes of the fire, a blanket draped around him. He 
shivered, surprised at how cold the cave was, called 
magical flame to the kindling left, and turned to check on 
Jesartlu.
    The land Elwen had crawled completely inside the 
blankets; not one hair of him showed. Thinking they really 
should have a talk about pride, Maruss reached out to 
shake his shoulder.
    "Come on. If you're awake enough to move, you're awake 
enough to-"
    The words died on his lips as his hand pushed into 
empty blankets. Maruss stared at the cloth cocoon for a 
moment with unseeing eyes, then pulled it apart.
    There could be no doubt. Jes was gone.
    Maruss lowered his head to the floor and sniffed, 
almost instantly picking up the land Elwen's faint, warm 
scent. He would have noticed it before if he hadn't been 
so preoccupied with building the fire. It led straight to 
the entrance of the cave.
    Maruss frowned and rose to his feet. So Jes wanted to 
lead him a chase, did he? Very well. But behind the 
curalli's anger and exasperation chattered a voice of very 
real fear. Jes could well be dying only a few feet from 
the door.
    The odds of that became even greater when he moved 
away from the crackling fire and heard the mad shriek of 
the wind just outside. Pausing, he stared into a swirling 
green miasma. Even if he had been maddened by the fever, 
how and why had Jes gone out in a blizzard?
    Maruss pushed such questions away, trying to replace 
his doubts with self-confidence. No creature could handle 
itself better on a winter night than a curalli. Though he 
had never had occasion to call upon his reserves of 
talent, he could track Jes through a snowstorm more 
blinding than this, see him in magical darkness, climb 
glass after him. He hoped he wouldn't have to fall into 
such a primal mindset, but if he did...
    Well, best not to worry about it.
    Maruss pulled the hood of the cloak close against him 
and stepped onto the ledge outside the cave, leaving the 
magical fire to burn. It would provide much-needed warmth 
to the others. He didn't wake them up for the same reason; 
they needed their sleep.
    One question bothered him as he made his way to the 
bottom of the Pass. Jes shouldn't have been able to walk 
past without rousing him, or at least alerting Starsheen. 
If he was pain-maddened, he should have taken even less 
care.
    Which left two unpleasant possibilities- that the 
curalli had become a heavy sleeper, or that Jes's madness 
had introduced the special cunning of the insane into him. 
Maruss knew the first wasn't true.
    Which meant he was tracking an insane, sick Elwen 
through a snowstorm, in a Pass where he had seen the god 
he had offended.
    "Wonderful," he announced gloomily to the world at 
large, vaulting the last five feet with enough force to 
shatter a snowdrift. There was no particular reason to do 
so, but he felt like it.
    He stared around at what he had dropped himself into- 
mildly unpleasant for him, absolute hell for anyone else. 
What had prompted Jes to do this?
    The wind yammered around him, seeming several winds at 
once, sometimes changing direction in mid-motion. Its push 
was such that he had to fight to keep his feet. Great, wet 
green snowflakes the size of his head whirled through the 
air or split into smaller pieces of snow, cold and 
penetrating as Salsi's gaze. Maruss remembered the 
techniques he had learned from the book on curalli in his 
foster mother's library and looked through snow and 
stinging bits of ice. Still, nothing revealed itself to 
him. But then, Jes wouldn't have any reason to do so.
    "Jes?" Maruss called softly, as an experiment. The 
wind shrieked in delighted, childish response, but no 
living voice answered him. Maruss called again.
    ^It's useless, Maruss. You're not going to find him 
this way. You'll actually have to go out searching.^ 
Starsheen's voice was profoundly sarcastic.
    ^I always intended to,^ Maruss retorted coolly, bowing 
his head and starting forward. ^I always did. Speaking of 
which, did you see him leave?^
    ^Maruss, I am not that angry at you, nor am I so great 
a fool,^ Starsheen replied angrily. ^I would have awakened 
you. He must have gone past more silently than a shadow.^
    ^But now a shadow hunts him.^ Maruss was grateful for 
mental communication; it was the only possible way to talk 
and be sure one would be heard above the wind's whining 
complaints. ^I didn't think he was that sick.^ Belaboring 
the obvious, perhaps, but it was good to have someone to 
talk to.
    ^Neither did I,^ Starsheen affirmed. There was a 
thoughtful pause as Maruss clambered over a boulder, 
following the faint trail of sunshine and summer smells 
through the reek of winter. ^Which leads to the fact that 
he isn't.^
    Maruss put two and two together, then told himself to 
forget it. What reason could Salsi possibly have for 
calling Jes out of the cave?
    What little sense he possessed answered brutally. To 
make Maruss follow, of course.
    But why the sick one? Maruss's brain argued.
    So as to be more believable.
    Which means this whole thing is a...
    ^Trap!^ hissed Starsheen, as the snow exploded behind 
Maruss. ^Ellosonor! Turn!^ The knife flared with silver- 
white light and began to buzz angrily, his thoughts 
reaching out to clasp Maruss's. The curalli let himself be 
drawn into the bond with the sentient steel, at the same 
time making a silver aura appear about his body. 
Distantly, there came the faint shrieks of dying unicorns. 
He was Ellosonor, the Bane of Silver, the one silverini 
feared above all else.
    The hunched, ape-like creatures behind him were almost 
to him, bounding with unbelievable speed. Their shaggy 
coats of green fur had hidden them perfectly under the 
snowbank, and their winter-wind scents were harder to 
smell now. But their glimmering blue eyes and long white 
fangs made them very visible- as did the red-and-white 
light playing about them. That, if nothing else, was a 
sign Salsi had sanctioned this attack.
    One beast crouched, bending its spider-like limbs 
awkwardly, and sprang at his throat. The other circled 
behind him, just in case he should think of springing that 
way.
    The attack ended with a wild shriek as the creature 
spitted itself on Starsheen and collapsed, a foul clear 
liquid bubbling from the heart-wound. Maruss started to 
whirl to face the other, but a heavy weight dropped on 
him. A moment later, teeth closed on his shoulder and 
tugged the muscle back and forth.
    Gritting his teeth against the burning pain, Maruss 
kindled the silver aura. The flame was painless to him, 
but the creature screamed more loudly than its brother had 
and sprang free. Maruss spun, feeling the wet warmth of 
his own white blood on his back.
    Salsi's creature crouched in the snow, snarling at him 
without a break, now and then turning to nurse a burned 
foreleg. Maruss gave it a smile as cold as the air around 
them. Just as he had once banished the winter-lord by 
creating a small patch of summer in the Coldor Mountains, 
he could fight these creatures by using heat.
    Still, there was nothing to be gained by killing it 
immediately. Already he was regretting his immediate 
strike with Starsheen. If he could have kept the creature 
alive, questioned it somehow, instead of killing it and 
increasing the likelihood that this one would not answer, 
he might have been able to find out what Salsi wanted.
    "Do you understand Primal?" he asked softly in that 
tongue, the common language of all races since the 
creation of the world. The creature simply drew its lips 
further back from its fangs and didn't answer. Maruss 
decided to see if he could make it respond.
    "Sometimes I think Salsi doesn't either," he said 
conversationally. "What is working for him like? I think I 
would die of boredom, personally-"
    The creature snarled, low and deeply, in its throat, 
rising to its hind legs as it did so. "Shouldn't- mock!' 
it said with difficulty. Its fangs appeared to get in the 
way of its forming effective words. "Have- friend! Will- 
torture if- mock!"
    "Really." Maruss smiled coldly at him. "And what could 
you do to him, thing? I'm not sure what you are, you see. 
Forgive the insulting term of address."
    "Not- have him!" spat the creature, seeming more angry 
than fearful, but still eying the curalli's silver aura 
with wary respect. "Great Lord Salsi- have him!" Spittle 
gleamed on the creature's whiskers as it completed with a 
satisfied air, "Will torture."
    Maruss let his own fury and fear rise- they would give 
him strength- but was careful to show no outward signs of 
it. Either would be interpreted as a weakness, and might 
prompt the creature into attacking. He hated unnecessary 
bloodshed, and wanted to leave this one alive if possible. 
To that end, he stalked slowly forward, face a blank, cool 
mask. 
    The creature watched him smugly for a moment, but then 
began to back up. Maruss knew how he must look, and bit 
the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Chuckles 
would spoil the charade of this stone-faced curalli, 
hunting his prey as if he were a moving silver statue 
draped in darkness.
    Maruss's poetic mind liked that simile, and he 
repeated it beneath his breath to keep his amusement down 
when the creature fled screaming into the darkness.
    Maruss's laughter faded quickly as he stood 
considering the situation. Salsi had Jes somewhere 
unknown, trapped and sick, and was willing to send minions 
to kill Maruss. Or, perhaps, had they been sent to herd 
him?
    "Shall we find out?" Maruss murmured wryly, and began 
tracking the thing.
----------------------------------------------------------
    The trail was easy enough to follow, even though the 
wind filled in footprints almost as soon as they were 
made. The minion, in haste and fear, had taken no 
precaution to hide its trail, and it was only a few 
minutes before the shadowed Elwen saw it trotting along 
the floor of the Pass, occasionally glancing nervously 
behind it.
    To avoid its sight, Maruss kept to the shadows, where 
he was invisible to everyone save another of his kind or a 
darkness Elwen. At last the creature relaxed, dropped to 
all fours, and began to shamble along at a rapid pace. 
Maruss followed easily. Curalli could run eighty miles an 
hour for quite a distance before becoming tired.
    The darkness was abruptly broken by a radiance 
brighter than starlight, and thus more immediately visible 
to Maruss's eyes. He halted, wincing slightly, and peered 
upward. The light flowed from a cave high on the cliff 
wall, a cave alight with warm red firelight.
    At first, Maruss though they must have circled back to 
his own campsite, and his heart froze as the creature 
began to scramble up the wall. But then he saw the 
relaxed, happy expression on the minion's face, an 
expression that he surely wouldn't have worn going into a 
cave where a vampiric sunset Elwen slept. No, this had to 
be where Salsi was keeping Jes, or at least where he had 
told his creatures to go when finished with their task.
    Maruss sprang silently upward, closing his hands 
around a protruding rock, and in two seconds was twice his 
own height above the ground. As when walking, he kept to 
the shadows while he climbed, doing it skillfully, 
speedily, silently. He reached the lip of the cave before 
the thing was halfway up, and peered over with true 
caution this time. This time he knew there was a trap.
    It seemed a cheerful enough place, a small, cozy 
chamber with a large fire blazing in the center. Jes lay 
close to the fire, senseless, wrapped in fine fur-lined 
rugs and blankets. Salsi sat on the other side of the cave 
in land Elwen avatar form, his expression of distaste as 
he regarded the source of heat evident.
    Maruss heard the soft scrape of claws behind him and 
drew back smoothly, letting the creature scramble inside, 
oblivious to his presence.
    "Master," breathed the creature's reverent voice. 
"Great Lord Salsi." As before, it spoke the phrase with no 
spluttering at all; doubtless it had had practice. But the 
stammering and difficulty came back on the next words. 
"Master- I ap- apologize- but Hun- Hunter dead."
    "What?" Salsi's voice was soft as a single snowflake, 
but as piercingly cold as the blizzard that combined all 
snowflakes. An awful voice, a voice full of godly power, 
and the creature's voice trembled as it responded to that 
power.
    "I- I sorry, Master, All- fault of- mine. He- got 
away, Master. Sorry. Let me- go, but killed Hun- Hunter."
    "Really." There was no indication in Salsi's voice 
that he believed his servant. "And where is he now?"
    Maruss wondered if he could have asked for a better 
cue if he had rehearsed it with the moon-lord. "Here," he 
said lightly, stepping into the cave.
    The creature moaned and fell on the floor in a dead 
faint. Salsi started to rise quickly to his feet, then 
apparently decided this would show too much respect and 
stood with slow arrogance instead. His eyes flicked over 
Maruss, as if appraising him for the market, and his brows 
rose. "You have grown in power since we last met, 
Resadadal. My congratulations."
    Maruss did not react to the name the way Salsi 
doubtless expected him to do. Resadadal meant "the caught 
one" in Primal, but Maruss had lost his fear of being 
controlled by fate. Did not the very name of his soul 
promise mastery over it?
    "Good evening, my Lord Salsi," he said, inclining his 
head slightly.
    Salsi looked startled for a bare moment before he 
smoothed his features, accepting the courtesy as no more 
than his due. Still, as if irresistibly tempted, he 
remarked, "You have also learned courtesy."
    Maruss shrugged. "I am still not sure if I respect or 
trust you, Lord of the Winter Moon. But certain things are 
proper between equals."
    Maruss heard Starsheen's shocked buzz, felt Salsi's 
outrage, and did not care. It was exactly the kind of 
outrageous thing the moon-lord would expect him to say, 
and through his anger, he would be dancing with glee that 
the curalli was apparently playing into his hands. He 
wouldn't be alert when Maruss turned the tables on him.
    Besides, it afforded him a small amount of 
satisfaction to taunt this immortal, immoral creature who 
had wrongs to pay for. Luring Jes into the storm, trying 
to kill Jierran when they had crossed the Coldor 
Mountains- and most of all, abandoning Arcadia to the 
whims of the silver unicorns. How many millions had died 
that the moon-lord's power might have saved?
    "Watch yourself, Resadadal," Salsi breathed. "You are 
not my equal, and never will be." A smile whipped across 
his lips like a snake slithering to shelter. "I cannot 
kill you- you are too important to the future of Arcadia. 
But I can tell you things that will make you wish you were 
dead."
    Maruss snorted, enjoying watching the pale face grow 
silver with anger. "I didn't come here to listen to you. I 
came for my friend." He turned toward Jes, hoping the new 
sojourn in the cold hadn't given the land Elwen anything 
worse than what he already had.
    "Stop," Salsi's voice was a calm snake's hiss.
    Maruss glanced at him, letting his silver aura flare 
and beat just a little higher. Not a threat; a warning. 
"Why?" he asked quietly.
    "I came here to tell you things." Salsi's face twisted 
in a sneer, and he looked around the cave scornfully. "Do 
you think I would enter this pitiful world otherwise?"
    "It is you who are pitiful, Winter-Lord," Maruss 
replied, sitting back on his heels. He had seen enough to 
know that Jesartlu still looked reasonably healthy and 
felt warm enough. "Tell me if you will, then release us."
    Salsi stared at him as if he were some exotic beast. 
"By all the gods that are my cousins, Resadadal," he 
breathed, "do you wish to lose your life? You throw it 
about as if it were worth less than a battered trinket."
    "I shall worry about it when I am in danger." Maruss 
knew he walked a thin line, but Salsi deserved no less 
after taking Jesartlu than to be insulted by a person he 
didn't dare hurt. He smiled sweetly at the moon-lord's 
expression of outrage. "Very good," he complimented him, 
"but if you're planning on getting a portrait done, 
unwrinkle the forehead. It's going to be dreadfully 
prominent someday."
    Salsi snapped his mouth shut, and a look of calm 
settled over his features as smoothly and serenely as the 
snow falling outside. "You are as you are," he said, 
oddly, as if he were repeating a formula. "I am as I am. I 
will tell you my piece and be on my way, leaving you to 
writhe in torment."
    Maruss pinched his lips tightly together, but the 
snort of laughter escaped nonetheless. Salsi's face again 
turned to stone, and he spoke in a swift, clipped voice.
    "May it never be said that I did not warn you. I did, 
and here is the warning." Salsi turned his head, eyes 
glowing now white, now fiery crimson, and pinned Maruss 
with his stare. The curalli looked back calmly, almost 
casually. He had never denied, after all, that Salsi had 
power, merely that he knew how to use it properly.
    The moon-lord's voice rumbled like sepulchral thunder. 
Had Maruss been able to look away, he would have peered 
outside in fear that the immortal was starting an 
avalanche. "Know that you have escaped the clutches of 
Fate, but not the meshes of my net, Resadadal. You are 
still the Caught One, the little fish helpless in the 
hands of the fisherman- but the identity of that fisher 
has changed."
    Maruss smiled unpleasantly. "My, my, my Lord Salsi. 
Direct interference? Do you so enjoy the prospect of the 
Oblivion?"
    Shock cleanly scrubbed Salsi's face for a moment, but 
when he calmed himself, he did so in the matter of a 
moment. "That is different," he said, a smoldering, 
explosive fury in his voice. "Every divine power has the 
right- nay, the privilege- to punish blasphemers."
    "Just not silverini blasphemers?"
    An invisible magical hand gripped Maruss's throat, 
throwing him back and slamming him into the wall. The 
curalli breathed comfortably around it, a little impressed 
by the sight of Salsi's anger but not frightened. He 
wasn't sure what encased him in protective warmth and 
urged him to new heights of recklessness, but he welcomed 
it, whatever it was.
    "You cannot know what line you cross." Salsi's voice 
was soft and deadly. "You simply cannot know, Resadadal. 
This is a matter for the powers that be alone."
    "Take it up with the God of Strength, if you must," 
Maruss retorted. "He told one of his worshipers, which is 
more than you've done for yours. Rengardlu, a rufouso, one 
of the race you created, travels with me now. Why are you 
not speaking to him?"
    Salsi's face twisted in confusion for a single 
instant. Then it became smooth anger again. "I told you, 
you cannot understand."
    "And you obviously cannot understand how precious 
Arcadia is." Maruss felt faint, sick with disgust. The 
loyalty trained into him by his foster mother and by long 
hours of study in the dell that had been his home rejected 
the idea of traitors with loathing. He had been a traitor 
himself once before, but he had paid the price in guilt 
and self-hatred- indeed, paid it still, for he had been 
unable to forgive himself. But Salsi's betrayal was more 
profound, more complex, and more unforgivable. The moon- 
lord was right; he could not understand. But he was glad 
he would never comprehend such a depth of foulness.
    "I can." Salsi's voice was quietly deadly. "I can 
understand that you are leading me away from the subject I 
came to speak to you about. Fate has passed the net to me, 
Resadadal. And I will do whatever is necessary to bring 
you back into line."
    "You mean, inflict horrors on me simply to make me 
cry, 'I surrender?'" Maruss's lip curled.
    "No. I will make you give up, give yourself to me, 
before this is done."
    "Any Elwen knows the difference between surrendering 
and giving up," said Maruss pleasantly. "I might as well 
tell you it won't work. Talk to the stars; they created us 
that way."
    "My, my. Denying responsibility for something, 
Resadadal?" Salsi's face seemed sharper than ever as his 
cold smile cut across it. The smile faded so swiftly that 
Maruss had only the memory of the sharpness to remind him. 
"But no, you are right. Elwens simply flee into death if 
they cannot endure pain- and may the stars endure much 
pain themselves for giving you that cursed gift!- or face 
it until they are worn down, and even then go down 
fighting. It is not with pain that I will confront you. 
Any fool has the courage to last that out. And whatever 
else you are, you are not a fool, Resadadal."
    "Thank you," said Maruss wryly.
    Again Salsi smiled, and for a single moment, they 
shared a camaraderie, the companionship of the powerful. 
"You are welcome."
    Then the flickering eyes drained of all color, and the 
moon-lord rose to his feet. "I shall see, however, if you 
have the courage to grasp what I will offer you. Fate has 
surrendered her mastery of you, but she had- interesting 
ideas. Perhaps I shall implement one."
    There was no stir of magic, not even a silent rush of 
power that would indicate the operation of undetectable 
divine magic. Salsi, his minion, and the fire were quite 
simply gone.
    Maruss stared at the embers of the fire for a moment, 
then turned and scooped up Jesartlu with his telekinesis, 
wrapping the blankets more firmly around the land Elwen. 
"Come," he murmured, wondering why his voice sounded 
small, almost frightened. "Let's go back."
----------------------------------------------------------
    The others were awake when they got back, and made an 
immediate fuss over them. Geruth laid Jes back near the 
fire, listening anxiously to his breathing and warming 
what was left of their vespermeal into a broth that the 
land Elwen might be able to drink when he awoke. Jierran 
and Rengardlu asked Maruss question after question, Ren's 
particularly ardent. He wanted Maruss to describe Salsi so 
many times that the curalli finally closed his eyes and 
faked a snore.
    He heard Ren chuckle, and opened his eyes to see 
amusement warring with concern in the red unicorn's green 
gaze. "I'm sorry we're boring you to sleep, Maruss. But 
please, just a little longer. What was he wearing?"
    "A shimmering red cloak and tunic, brilliant as your 
coat," Maruss answered promptly. He didn't like to 
flatter, but his eyes burned and an army seemed to be 
marching inside his head. Neither his magic nor his body 
had had a chance to fully replenish itself.
    Ren, in the manner of all unicorns Maruss had ever met 
save Jierran, was slightly vain. He glanced around at his 
perfect, smooth crimson pelt, at his tail like a fall of 
airy blood and his trimmed crystal hooves. "Do you really 
think so?"
    Maruss nodded, and the rufouso finally turned away and 
sought his bed. Jierran lingered a moment, looking at 
Maruss with ears and nose rather than eyes, then said 
abruptly, "Do you mind if I take this off? It's a little 
uncomfortable."
    Maruss shrugged. "Go right ahead."
    Jierran, with a sigh of relief, fixed his teeth on the 
knot that secured the blindfold and tugged. The cloth fell 
to the floor, and the silver unicorn shook his head and 
snorted, then turned violet eyes on Maruss that could not 
hurt him. The curalli's fate-magic gave him an immunity. 
"I can't quite reach my nose, and it needs scratching. 
Could you do it, please?"
    Maruss smiled as he climbed to his feet and fulfilled 
the request. Jierran, who loathed slavery, made a special 
point of never ordering anybody to do anything; he always 
asked. The silver unicorn closed his eyes luxuriously and 
sighed as the itch apparently fled, then opened his eyes 
again and winked at Maruss. "So hands are good for 
something. I always wondered."
    "And now your curiosity is satisfied," Maruss 
chuckled. "So that's the reason you've been traveling with 
us. To find out."
    Jierran looked startled for a moment. There was 
relatively little teasing in unicorn society, except about 
matters Destria's son considered sickening, and few 
Annihilators bothered to return any teasing banter he 
offered. But he recovered swiftly. "Yes. I look at these 
curious contraptions-" he nudged Maruss's hand with one 
side of his nose, moving it to his forelock "-and wonder, 
what can they possibly be for? Were the stars drunk? And 
if they gave their creatures hands, why in the Seven Stars 
didn't they give them the wit to use them properly?"
    Jierran's excellent imitation of his father on the 
last words made Maruss laugh aloud. Amusement gleamed in 
the unicorn's violet eyes as well, so like his own, and 
Maruss felt relived. It was rare Jierran could relax; 
surrounded by creatures a slip of his blindfold could 
enslave in an instant, he had to be constantly on his 
guard. Of course, Maruss had the power to heal shattered 
minds, but the damage to the group's trust in Jierran 
would never heal.
    At last, Jierran sighed and asked Maruss to tie the 
blindfold on again. The curalli did so, and Jierran 
cantered to the mouth of the cave, as if he intended to 
watch the stars and moons through the whirling snowstorm. 
Maruss wished he could do something to ease the stark 
loneliness usually on the unicorn's features, loneliness 
for those of his own kind, but it did not seem so bad 
tonight. Perhaps their teasing had done more than simply 
provide him with a chance to relax.
    The curalli curled up in his bedding, but though his 
eyelids felt like irons attracted to magnets at the 
bottoms of his eyes, he forced himself to stay awake. He 
needed to relive a scene from his past tonight, or, as he 
knew from bitter experience, it would haunt his dreams.
    He forced himself to see himself again captive in that 
strange, pulsing cage of power. Destria called Myyti back 
from the dead, and Maruss threw aside all oaths in his 
heart, ready to revoke them for the sake of love. Then 
Rengardlu charged Destria, and in trying to throw a blast 
of fire to warn the Emperor away, Maruss killed Myyti. She 
died a second time, and his heart with her.
    He never became aware when he passed from recollection 
into true sleep, but dawn was just fingering the lip of 
the cave when Starsheen's voice spoke softly in his head. 
^Your pillow is wet with tears.^
    Maruss lifted his head, staring at the rolled blanket 
he had laid his head on. "I know," he said dully.
    ^Maruss.^ Starsheen's voice was angry no longer, but 
softly and gently concerned, with just a bit of a cajoling 
tone. ^You have to stop doing this to yourself. What good 
will reliving the past and torturing yourself about it do? 
For that matter, what good will this guilt do?^
    Maruss didn't look at the sentient knife. "It reminds 
me never to do it again."
    It was obviously taking a great deal for Starsheen to 
keep his patience. ^But you won't. And you're hurting me, 
and the others. Don't you trust us to tell you if you're 
truly betraying us?^
    ^Yes, but-^
    ^Nothing,^ Starsheen cut in. ^I wish you would 
understand, Maruss. There's no real excuse for beginning 
every day with grief. It's simply your own stubbornness.^
    Maruss shut off the telepathic link and rolled out of 
his blankets to begin packing. Geruth was asleep in a 
sitting position, he saw with a sad smile, still holding 
the cup of broth toward Jesartlu. They might not be moving 
today at all, though the sky was calm, if the land Elwen 
didn't wake up.
    Even as he watched, however, Jesartlu opened his eyes. 
The warrior blinked drowsily for a moment, then stared. 
For once, however, he made no complaint about blankets or 
a place close to the fire. Perhaps he could feel the 
lingering traces of the disease in his body. He simply 
pushed aside the blankets and stood up, yawning.
    His motion roused the others, who greeted him with 
smiles of relief. Maruss walked past their stirring forms 
to the entrance of the cave, and ignored the quiet 
conversation that sprang up a few minutes later. Stepping 
onto the ledge outside the entry, he stared at the Pass 
below.
    The storm had buried it in drifts deeper than they 
looked, or so Maruss estimated. Again he was grateful for 
the deep green color of the snow, for it swallowed the 
sun's light and reduced the glare his curalli eyes found 
so hard to cope with. With any luck, even given the 
hindering effect of the snow, they ought to reach Fhevu 
today. Perhaps.
    He heard a scream above his head, and looked up 
quickly. A magnificent eagle, feathers giving off a 
coppery gleam especially noticeable against the pure white 
sky, wheeled high above the snow, hunting prey that would 
come out to feed with the arrival of dawn.
    Maruss watched the bird until it plunged downward to 
catch something in its talons. This was a cold, lonely 
place, yet the eagle managed to survive, even thrive.
    He could easily survive the cold loneliness creeping 
into his own soul- a loneliness there was no reason for.
    Starsheen murmured something at the back of his mind, 
but Maruss turned his head away.




                        Chapter 2
                          Meljae
    They had to spend one more night in the Pass, but 
fortunately, no second snowstorm came to offer them its 
greetings. And on noon of the following day, the mountains 
rolled back as if the maker of the pass had walked only so 
far and now farther, leading them into Fhevu.
    Maruss, leading as usual, had been the first to note 
the gray speckles among the still-common green of the 
snow, and was the first to see the new country. Trotting 
with his head bowed, he passed the last mountains without 
noticing, but felt a sudden sensation of freedom. Lifting 
his head, he looked about curiously. His breath huddled at 
the back of his throat.
    Before him stretched what looked like a vast, stormy 
sea, from which the masts of wrecked ships thrust. Even 
when he recognized it for what it was, the comparison did 
not lessen. Fhevu was all rolling, rising hills and downs 
that dipped down at last into a mighty valley watered by 
two great rivers. The steel-gray snow made the sun glitter 
in a dull miasma, heightening the impression of a storm at 
sea. The trees this far north had lost all their leaves 
long ago, and now rattled bare, skeletal branches together 
mournfully. Maruss could not stop staring. He had never 
imagined anything so bleakly beautiful.
    He heard the others coming up behind him, their soft 
gasps, but did not as yet turn to speak to them. His eyes 
simply drank in the harsh defiance of this province, the 
last to be defeated, the province where the unicorn 
victory had never been complete, for at least four free 
peoples lived here still. It awed him, filled his veins 
with a triumphant song not unlike that of his magic. There 
was no glory in war, but there was pride in rebellion.
    Geruth circled down beside him at last, eyes wide in 
wonder. "I almost hate to camp here," he said in reverent 
tones. "It would be like- desecrating a temple, or 
disturbing an elven tomb." There was a little doubt in his 
voice as he said the last. Among Elwens, it was a sign of 
contempt to bury an enemy.
    "I don't think it would be quite like that," Maruss 
replied thoughtfully. "Temples and tombs are hallowed 
places, never to be touched. But Fhevu was something they 
fought for, something more important to them than a temple 
or burial ground. A home."
    The viaquia seemed comforted, though he still regarded 
the vista before them with wide eyes. Maruss at last began 
to assess nearby shelter. The dipping and rolling of the 
downs made it impossible to see far, but he thought he saw 
a smudge of green in the distance. A pine stand would 
shelter them sufficiently.
    "Let's start walking," Maruss said at last, 
reluctantly nudging Geruth from his trance. He could have 
stood there staring, enchanted, forever, but he had the 
others to worry about.
    And, too, who knew what beautiful visions they might 
discover beyond the next hill?
----------------------------------------------------------
    They maintained a relaxed pace through the country, 
not heading toward any definite destination but that green 
smudge vaguely placed in the west. Rengardlu had as yet 
suggested no place to go; he seemed content to merely 
sniff the chill air of his home again and bask in the 
barely warming rays of the pale sun.
    They soon split up, ranging in pairs or alone through 
the winter-drained woods slumbering under the snow. All 
around were things to see, and Rengardlu assured them that 
no dangerous creatures, intelligent or otherwise, lived in 
the surrounding woods.
    Maruss pushed aside the slim branch of an elm that had 
somehow entwined itself with another elm and found a 
frozen pond before him, a shining thing, all of a piece, a 
strange milky-gray color like a flawed pearl. He knelt 
down by it, breath steaming before his face, running his 
fingers lightly over it. A strange, wild, woodsy smell 
lingered here, a smell of life, as if the world had not 
quite given up on summer.
    An angry chattering overhead revealed the life, and 
Maruss smiled in amusement as a sable jay alighted on the 
branch above him. The bird, darker than the cloak Maruss 
wore, folded its six-foot wings and spoke angrily, 
scolding him in its own tongue, its dark eyes very bright.
    Maruss hesitantly reached out toward the animal's 
mind. Elwens had been able to do this, once, but these 
wild creatures could not have seen a free Elwen in so 
long...
    The bird stopped in mid-chatter as his mind brushed 
its. For a moment it stood ice-still, then tilted its head 
in all directions and rapidly scratched its crest with a 
foot. Maruss bit his lip to keep from laughing, keeping up 
the delicate pressure, trying to sense the faint, elusive 
flit of the bird's thoughts.
    Abruptly, somehow, he did it. The bird gave a 
triumphant chatter, as if it had been the one to initiate 
the contact, and glided down to land on the wrist he held 
up. Its claws dug in for only a moment; then it leaped to 
his shoulder. Maruss blinked, surprised. He hadn't told it 
to do that.
    He was even more surprised when the bird took hold of 
his thoughts in a practiced manner. It had obviously done 
this before. But how? Had an Elwen come here regularly 
enough to teach it? Or had its parents somehow taught it?
    The thought faded in wonder as the jay leaped into the 
sky, pulling Maruss's thoughts with it. Maruss had flown 
before, in the astral world, but he had never felt himself 
actually inside the body doing the flying, working the 
wings and turning and soaring...
    The bird, of course, didn't really think about 
freedom, but Maruss could feel it. He felt a momentary 
sadness that he was a purebred curalli, instead of one of 
the crossbreeds the unicorns sometimes created, born with 
wings. But the sadness and exhilaration both faded when 
the bird began to coast down toward an isolated patch of 
oaks. Maruss blinked in disbelief. The dead of winter- and 
the boughs wept buds like emerald tears.
    Even more curious, there was a faint but definite draw 
on the bird's mind, as if it followed an old trail back to 
a familiar haunt. Not a pull, not someone consciously 
calling the bird, but a- path. It was the best word Maruss 
could come up with.
    The jay landed on one of the oak's boughs, which 
whirled beneath it as it leaped to a lower perch, dizzying 
Maruss. All the while, the sable bird called out softly, 
almost in a croon, quite unlike the guttural warning cry 
it had given at the sight of Maruss.
    Something moved in a clearing framed by the oaks 
below, and for a moment Maruss thought a green light shone 
between the branches. Then he realized it was a pair of 
eyes, so brilliantly green that they blinded.
    A startled voice, not quite speaking words, not quite 
speaking the wordless language of the jay, intertwined 
with their thoughts. Who have you brought me, Sablewind?
    "Maruss!"
    Someone shook his shoulders roughly, drawing him 
inexorably back to the real world. The curalli threw up 
his hands with a cry of protest as the link between him 
and the jay wound down to one thread that quivered, 
quavered, and snapped. At the last moment, that startled 
voice wound into his mind a last time, giving him one 
word. Glevia. West.
    The panting curalli looked up into Geruth's face. 
Drained of all blood, it looked a pale, delicate lilac. 
"Why did you-" the curalli began, not sure if his anger 
would show or not.
    Geruth's temper ignited before his could. "What were 
you doing?" the viaquia snarled. "Maruss, you were totally 
out of your body- and you weren't in the astral world, 
either! I've learned to recognize the signs of that- I've 
had to, as you wing out whenever you please. Where were 
you?"
    "Flying with a sable jay," Maruss said weakly. How 
feeble it sounded in the face of Geruth's angry concern 
for him.
    That gave the viaquia pause, but only for a moment. 
His memory, though not as swift as Maruss's, was still 
excellent, and he had read the same books. "You touched 
its mind?" he asked in disbelief.
    Maruss nodded, and Geruth closed his eyes, muttering 
under his breath. Maruss caught only the words "pray" and 
"favor this madElwen." He sniffed indignantly. He needed 
no protection from Dermand the Sunset Lord. The bird and 
his mysterious friend had been perfectly gentle. Maruss 
wouldn't have succumbed to the terrifying fate of "spark- 
loss," the spark that was his own being entwined and lost 
among others.
    Maruss, at Geruth's request, told him everything he 
could remember, particularly about the green eyes and the 
buds on the boughs. He had a suspicion, though he hoped 
Geruth would form it on his own. He wanted to go west to 
meet this fellow, and desperately wished for agreement or 
a not-too-adamant refusal from his brother.
    But Geruth's command was absolute. "No. Absolutely 
not. Would we really want to face a mage with that kind of 
power, that he can make leaves grow in the beginning of 
Ilmtirmon?"
    Not a mage, Maruss thought but didn't say. "Geruth," 
he said patiently, "I'm a mage nine times over. If 
anything became beyond my powers, as the very last 
recourse I could call Coastdancer." He laid his hand on 
the mark on the inside of his right wrist, a mark shaped 
like a coiling dragon. "Few are more powerful in magic 
than an angry aqua queen. I wouldn't be a prisoner for 
long."
    "I don't want you to be a prisoner at all!" Geruth 
said in a low hiss. "Other than the obvious reasons, we 
don't have the time." He cast a nervous glance at the 
eastern horizon.
    Maruss kept his thoughts to himself. Geruth was 
dreadfully certain that next year would be a Blue Moon 
year- that is, that Takon would turn completely blue 
instead of aqua during four days in the summer. That time 
enraged all creatures, afflicting them with nightmares, 
diseases, bouts of madness. 
    All creatures, save the silver unicorns. Geruth had 
convinced himself that if they did not gather an army, 
march south, and defeat the unicorns once and for all 
before the Blue Moon arose, they would never win at all.
    The viaquia at last broke his staring trance, smiling 
weakly at Maruss. "I'm sorry, brother. I know you can 
handle yourself. But I don't think it's wise for us to go 
west. We- all of us- know what deceit can do." His voice 
sank to a whisper.
    Maruss was silent, remembering the Shattering that had 
scattered some Annihilators, enslaved many, killed 
thousands more. Until learning of the survival of his 
sister Elenyi and some of her people, Maruss had thought 
that only five had survived. Five out of thirty thousand. 
And all caused because he had accepted the lie of an 
honorable unicorn surrender. The Shattering, enslavement, 
death for Myyti and Phaedon, Coalcloud's death, his own 
attempt at suicide and his madness...
    Maruss took a deep breath and forced the guilt away. 
Yes, he deserved it, but he couldn't spare time to deal 
with it now. "Geruth, he could be the help we need. 
Perhaps his people-"
    "Why is he out here alone?" Ger interrupted. "Why and 
how did he call the jay? Isn't it just so absolutely 
convenient that the bird showed up, claimed your thoughts, 
took you to him?" He shook his head, expression as 
stubborn as his brother's. "Too many questions, Maruss. 
I'm sorry. I know I'm overtaking your place as leader, 
overstepping my bounds. But the fact remains that I don't 
think you should do this, and I'm sure the others will 
agree with me. We'll bind you if we have to."
    "I can use my magic-"
    Ger smiled slightly. "The greatest mage in the world 
couldn't do much if clunked on the head."
    "Ger-"
    "No," said the viaquia. "I refuse to discuss this any 
more. You know your options. I'm merely serving the will 
of many others in keeping you safe. Others have a claim on 
your life now, Maruss." His evening blue gaze sharpened. 
"I couldn't say this two nights ago, before the others, 
but I think you were a fool to defy Salsi. He might have 
killed you."
    The words he had to speak if he wanted to retain a 
modicum of freedom were nonetheless ashes in Maruss's 
mouth. "He wouldn't. He's come to the brink several times, 
but he says I'm too important."
    Geruth looked only slightly mollified. "That doesn't 
change anything, Maruss. In fact, it only makes staying 
alive more imperative for you- or should. If the divine 
powers have deigned to notice you, then you should be 
looking after yourself."
    Starsheen buzzed in his sheath. ^Don't worry, Geruth,^ 
he said grimly, speaking directly to someone other than 
Maruss, a rare occurrence. ^The Crafter put more sense 
into my steel than my friend has in his empty mind. I'll 
watch over him.^
    ^What is this, a conspiracy?^ Maruss thought angrily 
back. ^You know I'm perfectly capable of taking care of 
myself, Starsheen. I have magic and you.^
    Seemingly despite himself, the knife purred. ^Thank 
you. But though I would normally agree it's your choice 
how you risk your life, I don't want you to go to meet 
this stranger, Elwen or no. As Geruth said, too many 
things are too convenient.^
    Maruss said nothing, but thought in a very private 
part of his mind that knives could be removed. "I can't 
promise to like it," he told Geruth, willing himself to 
sound defeated. His brother would detect a lie, but if he 
thought Maruss resigned to staying, he wouldn't ask for a 
promise.
    Geruth smiled his thanks and clapped Maruss 
sympathetically on the shoulder. "I truly am sorry. But 
though we're the same age, I'm your big brother. I can't 
simply let you run off."
    Oh, really? Maruss thought. But he did understand, 
much as he would have preferred not to. Geruth always had 
felt protective of him. The curalli slowly inclined his 
head. 
    But he made a face at his brother's back, and spared a 
silent glance for the west.
----------------------------------------------------------
    They camped in the clearing with the pond in it, for 
it was the only source of water for some miles. Maruss 
broke the ice by the simple expedient of stamping on it, 
then widening the cracks with Starsheen. The ice broke 
apart sluggishly, its flawed pearl surface soon becoming 
that of a jewel crazed beyond repair.
    While the others sat around the fire talking excitedly 
of the beauties they had seen, Maruss boiled the ice over 
a fire in the one pot they had brought and stared gloomily 
into the darkness. Geruth had told them all about the 
mysterious Elwen, and every now and then, every one of 
them would turn and eye him, as if to make sure he were 
still there.
    Maruss calmed himself by remembering what he was. They 
could gaze all they liked into shadows, and wouldn't see a 
shadowed Elwen.
    He never consciously remembered when he had decided to 
go against Geruth's orders, nor what fueled the decision. 
Resentment and curiosity alone, or more? Did he really 
know that this stranger could help them?
    Either way, he had determined to go.
    The other Elwens had caught some game, even the 
weakened Jesartlu felling a shy squirrel with a small 
rock, but again Maruss could only look the other way when 
they gazed at him, expecting his contribution. A tense 
silence settled about the camp for a moment before 
Jesartlu turned to Geruth and said, with the manner of an 
eager child, "Do you want me to show you how I killed the 
squirrel? I think your skull is hard enough to absorb the 
blow."
    Ger's mouth fell open at this uncharacteristic teasing 
from the stoic land Elwen, but he quickly caught on to its 
purpose and laughingly waved away the offer. The unicorns 
chuckled and snorted, then moved a little apart, pawing at 
grass and knocking snow aside to get to their meal.
    Maruss felt his magic stir inside him, and wished he 
could have helped by melting some of the snow and scenting 
relatively fresh plants. But tonight, he couldn't risk 
drawing their attention to him any longer than was 
absolutely necessary. They looked at him often enough 
already.
    Geruth made some kind of composite stew, largely by 
flinging in Jes's squirrel and his own hare, along with 
largely unidentifiable kinds of grasses he had found, and 
hoping for the best. The stew was actually surprisingly 
good. Maruss enjoyed its hot, spicy taste thoroughly, 
especially after he had switched the bowl Ger handed him 
for another. He wouldn't have been surprised to find bits 
of a sleep-inducing drug floating in his portion. It hurt 
to have to suspect his friends, but they were doing it out 
of good intentions. It was nothing malevolent.
    He curled up in his blanket and pretended to fall 
asleep quickly. This seemed to satisfy Geruth, who stayed 
up talking to the unicorns, not noticing that Jes also 
fell asleep uncommonly quickly as well.
    Maruss, hardly daring to breathe, rolled away from the 
fire a little. Nothing happened. The thick, wet snow, long 
fallen, largely cushioned any sound he made. The others 
did not even glance at him any more, apparently reassured 
by the loud snores he released every few breaths.
    He had almost reached the edge of the camp, keeping 
always within the fireshadow, when a sleepy voice buzzed 
in his mind, ^What are you doing?^
    Maruss froze. Stars, he had forgotten to remove 
Starsheen. He rose to his knees in one smooth, soundless 
motion, as silently weaving a curtain of weak mental 
energy about them. It was something that wouldn't stop the 
knife forever, but would stop his first attempt to speak 
to Geruth.
    That attempt came like the strike of a snake, and 
Starsheen's betrayed hiss as he reeled away from the wall 
was luckily masked by a loud pop from the fire. Maruss 
stood all the way and casually strode into the night, his 
fingers busily at his belt. Starsheen could still tell he 
had gone, of course, but he couldn't tell which direction.
    ^Yes, I can.^ The blade sounded furious. ^I can feel 
your mind always, Maruss, however faint the link may be. I 
can simply call Geruth and have him turn me in all 
directions until I feel the strongest pulse.^ He paused 
grimly. ^Besides, I would say there's going to be little 
trouble determining where you went. The success of your 
mission depends on no one noticing you are gone.^
    Exasperated, Maruss stopped and stared at the knife 
gleaming in its jeweled sheath. With any other weapon, of 
course, he could simply have left it behind. But not 
Starsheen. ^I don't suppose I could persuade you not to 
alert Geruth?^
    ^No. The moment this mental curtain falls-^
    Sparkling starshine erupted from the sky, a volcano of 
light. Maruss looked up, expecting nothing less than a 
comet or falling star after that. But the sky was clear- 
save for the star directly above him, twitching with 
agitated green light.
    When Maruss looked down again, Myyti stood in front of 
him. For the first time since his visit to her in her own 
realm, she looked like the woman he had known once more. 
Flashes of green touched the silver of her face and hair, 
and her eyes were once more emerald. The digging claws no 
longer appeared so impossibly slender, and she wore an 
expression of mingled anger and fear, much closer to 
Arcadia than the serene compassion she usually displayed.
    "Myyti!" Maruss greeted her happily. "Stars' 
greetings. I'm glad you came." He opened his mouth to tell 
her about the discovery he had made riding with the sable 
jay, but she interrupted him, her voice flat and smooth 
and cold as the icy pond had been.
    "I know, Maruss. I saw." Though she was obviously 
trying to make her voice pleasant, it shivered and shook, 
jagged shards of emotion surfacing in the middle of a 
word. "And now I beg you: do not go west."
    Maruss blinked in astonishment and the beginnings of 
concern. Had Myyti, with her high perch and little to do 
besides look, seen something he had not? "Is there more 
danger than I thought?"
    Myyti nodded earnestly, now-green hair tumbling about 
her shoulders. Her eyes were wide with grave alarm. They 
were silver again. She seemed in control of herself once 
more; perhaps she had despaired of catching him before he 
went. "Maruss, my beloved," she said in a soft voice, "you 
do not know what danger crouches in that clearing you saw, 
waiting to devour you. Or rather, the beginnings of 
danger. It may not be immediately apparent, but it is 
there." She found his nerveless hand and squeezed it. "Do 
not go."
    Maruss could only stand, swaying and dizzied. A 
danger, waiting to devour him? Why would the jay have been 
drawn toward a creature like that? And why would a 
creature intent on ambushing them make buds bloom in the 
winter, a virtual clue to his presence?
    Still, he had to take Myyti's word for it: a crafty 
creature, with the danger not immediately apparent. He 
smiled gratefully at her. "My thanks."
    "Your thanks, your love." Myyti smiled, but there was 
still an odd strained quality to it, as if she thought he 
might bolt off despite her warning. "The only two 
possessions I value now, or need to value."
    Starsheen was buzzing agitatedly at his side, but 
Maruss ignored him, instead speaking casually to Myyti for 
several minutes before she announced she had to go. Maruss 
watched the sparkle of her star die into silence with 
admiration and love. Imagine, rushing down here almost as 
soon as the stars had arisen, frantic about her beloved!
    ^Was she really?^
    Maruss slapped Starsheen's sheath without looking at 
him, gaze still trained on the star. It was a childish 
gesture, for it could not really hurt the knife, but it 
shut him up with astonishment for a moment. Before he 
could gather wits or breath to speak again, Maruss turned 
to look at him and raised an eyebrow.
    "You have your wish, so I don't know why you're 
complaining. I won't be going west." He felt a swift, 
regretful ache in his heart, his dirge for curiosity, but 
he was adamant now. He wouldn't go.
    ^Why is it that you will listen to Myyti over any one 
of us?^ Starsheen asked, in seemingly idle wonder.