Tam dug out the lumpy pouch that was in the pocket on the other side and opened it. He sneezed when he found the dried, powdery leaves and seeds inside, and smiled. Oh, Marysa! How could I ever forget your last gift to me? He remembered her farewell kiss when she'd given him the childbane. Perhaps it was a sign that he wasn't always going to be alone. He didn’t know how men could use the stuff, but someday his bride might be grateful for the herb.

He stuffed the pouch back into the pocket, and put his slippers on. It was annoying how like a child wearing them made him feel. How ironic that the Protector had provided him with clothing that fit him so well as quickly as possible, except for proper boots. Oh, his father was so careful to make everything look as if he truly cared for his son.

And yet, from what he’d heard, the Protector truly had done his best. It wasn’t good enough, though, and it was time to make shift for himself.

Someone knocked on the door. Tameron left the empty tray and followed his escort.

He was surprised when the guards took him down to the drill area instead of to the audience chamber where his father should be sitting in judgment, then even more amazed when they led him away from it towards Stine's office.

Someone was yelling inside. Suddenly, Mauric burst out of the door. He took one look at Tameron and shoved him against the wall, shouting obscenities. Tam butted Mauric in the chest with his head and fell on him when the young mage began to retreat. Tameron was so angry he didn't stop hitting Mauric till one of the guards pulled him away.

Then Stine's voice cut through the fog of rage around him. "Stop this immediately!" she shouted. "Both of you were fighting like a couple of village drunks! Lord Tameron, I trained you better than that." Then she glared at the escort. "I'll speak to all of you later. Lord Tameron wasn't in much danger, but it's small thanks to any of you!"

Tam sheepishly stood up, then offered his hand to Mauric to help him up. "I'm sorry. I went far beyond defending myself."

The young mage glumly got to his feet. He stank of wine. "Don't want your help," he said. "Kiliane doesn't either. Must be nice to have a father who'll go out and procure for you."

Tameron withdrew his hand. "Don't speak that way about the Lord Protector," he said, appalled at Mauric's words. "He won't listen to me, either. I meant what I said about not using my rank that way, Mauric."

"Right. Just hide behind his shadow and say you have no choice. It's easy for you." Then he walked away.

No, it's not! Then he noticed everyone staring at him. "I apologize for this disturbance, Commander," he said to Stine.

"I should have watched him more closely myself," she said. "Smooth your hair down and straighten your collar. And as for you--" she said, looking at the other guards, "that could have been a real assassin. No wonder he's nearly been killed a couple of times. You wait here. He'll be safer with me and the senior officers today."

He followed her into the chamber. Once the door was closed, she said, "I spoke with your father last night about the possibility of you being my successor someday if you aren't going to be the next Lord Protector. The Guardian suggested today that you've heard enough cases about missing cows for a while, and that you need to learn that I do more than teach swordplay. There's plenty more I can show you in Kelemath, but today we'll make a start. Your father can't keep you hidden away forever."

He desperately hoped that meant the Protector had changed his mind, but couldn't help remembering the words, "I could always offer him the position." The events of last night were beginning to get jumbled up, but that part stayed with him loud and clear.

He sat in a chair next to hers behind a sturdy desk as the shift-leaders filed in. Once they were all there, Stine cleared her throat and said, "Today Lord Tameron will be sitting in with us as an observer. Someday, of course, he'll be much more. I would normally hear reports this afternoon, but I've just received permission to put guards on the roof to observe the walls."

His heart skipped a beat when he heard that. There goes my last chance. If I have to leave, they'll find me even if I follow the dragon's path. His hopes revived as he listened to her briefing.

"It'll take a few days to reset all the positions and to work out the new routines. We don't have any more sentries than we started with, so we'll have to use single guards in places where we normally have two. Fortunately, the Guardian says she believes the weather is going to get worse this next week, so that will reduce travel in and out of Lochil and ease some of that burden. It's going to mean extra hours, too, at least till the Protector and his party leave."

Tameron took mental notes as Stine described the new plan, and how it'd contribute to extra security once in place. A few of the soldiers glanced at him uneasily as they spoke. They obviously knew his father's orders. After a while, they became used to his presence as he kept quiet. He could play the game of letting everything look right, too.

He tried to create a picture inside himself of how many guards would be stationed where, especially during the change. Bad weather could work for him. It was amazing how many of the soldiers were there just to watch over him, though as far as Tam was concerned, they could all go back to their families' farms.

I was glad to have them in Lochil, he thought, remembering the surprise attack in the alleyway. I hate thinking of them as my enemy! A good thing I'm not going to become a bandit in the hills. Stine has taught me everything I know, and the rest of them would gladly risk their lives to save me. Well, except Gerad, but even he didn't know I was going to be in real danger. But it's better they don't know what my plans are. Stine would tell me to do what Father says just like Randor did. Why do I have to do something wrong just because of politics?

After the meeting was over and they were alone in the office again, Stine said, "There's more to being a soldier than swordplay or shield work. Most of the skills Tayn beat into you will come in handy here, too. Blessed Lady, some days I feel like throwing my papers into the fire just to get rid of them!"

"I didn't know that it was so complicated," he replied. "Why is it going to take a week to change to the new plan?"

"Why it's going to take only a week is more like it. If I hadn't worked it out ahead of time, it'd most likely take a month. But I have to match people with shifts, get them used to new positions, find out who's going to throw up or get dizzy from being on the roof, keep soldiers who hate each other from being on at the same time, and make sure nobody who must patrol alone has a tendency to go to sleep. You can order guards to do nearly anything, but if you want it done right it helps to know what they're really good at."

The commander paced around the room. "For instance, your friend Lorin was caught climbing on the walls yesterday, just like someone else I know. When I reported it to the Guardian was when she allowed me to put archers on the roof. When I told her about some of his beliefs--he's not the only candle-burner around here--she decided the lad needed some time for meditation near the north gate. Most people don't like that post, with all the dragons on that side staring down at whoever's there, but she thought it'd do him good. When he comes back, I'll probably put him right up on the roof. I don't waste people with a good head for heights. Like you, for instance. It'd be a pity if your window had to be locked again."

Tameron looked around the room with a silent sigh of despair. Too bad all this instruction was going to be wasted. I want to thank her for everything, but how can I without giving away how much I know? "I don't know what to say," he finally replied.

"It does seem like a lot to learn all at once, doesn't it?" she said. "I must say that was a dirty trick yesterday, faking a bad knee. Keep it up! You'll live a lot longer that way! But stay off the walls. It really sets a bad example for the others."

They left the room, and Stine turned him over to his escort. The guards looked suitably chastened, though the commander had said little to them. It was strange they hadn't stopped Mauric. If the young mage had had a knife or other weapon, Tam knew he might not be standing here now. As they marched him down the hall, he suddenly figured it out. Mauric's a mage. No matter how well they're trained to defend me, no one in Fiallyn Mor is going to affront a mage unless they must, or unless they have magical powers themselves. Of course, he wasn't any real threat to me. But what happens the next time, unless Stine herself is there?

He was delivered like a package to the library, where his father greeted him. His stomach growled even though it'd only been a few hours since he'd eaten. Neither Lady Kiliane nor Mauric were there, just his father. Was it too much to hope that they'd fled?

"Sit down with me a bit, Tam," his father said. "The Guardian told me she kept you up late last night. I'm sorry all this has been so hard on you."

Tameron wanted to be angry, but it was hard when the Protector talked to him like this. "I don't know what to do," he said. If only he knew of a way out of this dilemma that didn't involve hurting someone. It wasn't right to act like a beast towards a young woman whose only crime was to love someone else, but he knew his father's political problems might cause his own death if something wasn't done.

At first, the Protector asked him about a case they'd listened to the day before, one involving a bull that one farmer accused another of killing. He was tired of pretending that everything was just fine, but answered as respectfully as he could. "Did anybody look for rotwort in the area? The stems look a lot like florfox in the fall when it dies back, and cows will eat both anyway."

"I had no idea you were so knowledgeable about cattle," his father said dryly.

"I'm not, but Dorena was. They lost three cows the first year they lived in the cabin till they found where the poisonous stuff grew, uprooted it, and burned the ground around it two years running. She showed me the place, but I had to take her word for it, with so much snow on top."

"Perhaps someday you can put all this to good use," the Protector said as he rose from his chair.

Tam automatically did so as well. "I thought I already was," he said. Does Father really believe I still think I'm going to be Protector after him?

"I believed that when I was your age, too," Lord Sidian said with a faint smile. "It's nearly dinner time. We'll eat in my chambers this evening. I've let my other duties take precedence over you, and that isn't right."

He forced himself to smile, but he was frightened inside. How could he get out of this without revealing how much he knew? Maybe he really means well, I wish I could trust him. Oh, Lord and Lady, please let him tell me the truth!

They went to the rooms set aside for his father near the baths, Tam's escort walking right along beside them. The Protector dismissed the guards as soon as they entered the door.

The sitting-chamber was large and luxurious. Heavy velvet curtains embroidered with pictures of spring blocked winter from the room, while a fire burned merrily on the hearth. Several plush chairs sat on a floor covered with a rich, thick carpet. Tam began sweating from the heat, though his father moved closer to the fire and warmed his hands at it.

The Protector sat down, and motioned Tameron to one of the other chairs. A cup, covered with a small cloth, waited on the small side-table next to his father's chair. I hope it hasn't been sitting there long. He remembered the poison he'd drunk in Kelemath.

His father leaned back in his seat and sighed. "Have you thought about Lady Kiliane since last night?" he asked.

"Yes." He'd thought about little else. Oh, why did she have to be so desirable?

"I'm sorry she was so unkind to you. She keeps hoping to be allowed to have a child with Mauric, and she took her disappointment out on you. I spoke with her later, and she sincerely regrets what she said. In fact, she's changed her mind and is willing to cooperate now."

"I am surprised to hear that, sir," Tam said. What did they do, press a knife to her throat? The sound of her weeping filled his memory.

"Tameron, I simply do not understand your reluctance. I know you're attracted to her. I know how impatient I was for my first Festival. The Guardian says you were a bit hasty with the young woman who lived in the cabin, but such things are understandable at your age. Speak to Kiliane yourself and she'll tell you that she no longer has any objections."

Would it be her talking, or the Red Cup? He inwardly cringed at the thought of anyone being privy to how he'd reacted to Marysa's touch. "Then you must have found a way to change me into Mauric. I thought I was immune to any spells."

The Protector laughed sourly. "A pity I can't, though I suspect you'd object to that as well. Tam, you must not let childish scruples get in the way of necessity."

"Would Scholar Tayn teach me anything you didn't want him to?" he asked softly. "And how many years have I watched you deal with everyone as justly as you could? I learned more from your deeds than I did from anyone's words."

His father's face crumpled for a moment, as if he'd finally been defeated. Then he rallied, and let his expression turn hard. "Then you've been blind all your life! Open your eyes now!"

"I can never see as clearly as the rest of you. I'm not a mage. Kiliane was right about that."

"If you plan to take a position on the Council, then you must take on the same responsibilities," the Protector said sternly.

"Father, we both know that won't happen. Please, don't lie to me!" Tam stood up. "And even if it worked out that way, no one's expected to...to perform their Duty until they've had one chance to choose for themselves. Can't I wait till after Midsummer?" Anything might happen if only he was given the time.

"I wish I could do that much for you," his father said, his head bowed. He raised it up again. Now his face was full of sorrow. "Please, I beg of you. Just talk to her. She's resting nearby."

Tameron knew he had to avoid that if he could. Even if he knew her acquiescence came out of a cup, could he resist Kiliane if she seemed to be willing? "I'm sorry, Father. I know she doesn't care for me. I find it hard to believe she's changed her mind this much so soon." Though he tried to sound confident, he was terrified. He'd never defied the Protector like this.

"Sit down." His father's voice was calm again.

He obeyed. His heart beat even more quickly.

"I know it's hard for you to trust me," Lord Sidian began. "And how can I blame you, after leaving you in the dark for so long? I should have told you last fall what I meant to do, and what your alternatives were. I never should have let you stumble so blindly. You nearly died because I didn't watch over you carefully enough, or help you understand just how very special you really are."

It tore at Tameron's heart to hear his father berate himself so, though somewhere deep inside he agreed with every word. "What's going to happen to me?" he asked, dreading the answer. "The Guardian told me a little bit about Dever Tower. Am I going to spend my whole life a prisoner?"

The Protector's face went blank for a moment. Then he relaxed, and even smiled a little.

He's thought of something he thinks I'll find palatable, Tam thought sourly.

"It's hard for me to do this," his father began. "None of your alternatives look good. The way I see it, you have three choices."

Do I have any choices at all? Or am I supposed to think I have, only to be forced into doing what the Council or my father wants anyway? "What are they?" he asked, hoping to hide how much he already knew.

"First, you can still choose to be my heir," the Protector said. "I owe you that much after all my promises to you. But I can't lie and tell you it'll work. Too many people know now that no magic works on you, including healing spells. I've buried four children already, Tam. I don't want to bury you. Stine was right when she told you that your enemies won't stop."

"And I remember telling her that neither would I!"

"I've seen that future, too," his father whispered, his face now pale as death. "I would rather see you dead than become the kind of person you need to be to survive what will happen on that path. Believe me, it's so easy to take one step at a time towards that kind of hell."

And you still want me to take the first one. Can't you see that hurting Kiliane goes there too? But he knew better than to say it out loud. He was sure the Protector had an answer for that as well. "What are my other choices?" he asked bitterly.

"Stine suggested that you become her successor. I'm sure she's discussed the possibility with you already. But that leads only to your death in the open, rather than from a knife in the dark or a poisoned cup. No matter how well you're guarded, someone will get through. Remember Gerad, who took money to betray you? On that road another will do it for what he thinks are the best of reasons. Lorin isn't the only dragon-worshipper in this land. If one of them thinks you have become a traitor to them because you're leading warriors against rebels who bear their standard, your death is certain."

That isn't what he said last night. He was afraid of civil war then. Maybe he's afraid that I won't shy away from the possibility, or maybe he fears putting ideas into my head. Besides, Lorin or his friends would never hurt me. They saved my life! Then he remembered his father saying, 'I can always offer him the position.' "And so, what's left?" he asked.

"Dever Tower."

"No!"

"I know the Guardian explained some of it to you. But let me start at the beginning. Not long after you were born, I knew that you were immune to spells. At first I thought you simply had strong shields. Your birth was a hard one, and some infants destined to be great mages react that way to protect themselves. As you grew, I hid you away, for you would have gone to Dever Tower as a child. I thought I knew better than the law. Now you're the one who must suffer for my conceit. If you had grown up knowing what must be, it might not be so hard for you now."

Was the empty chair of the Blessed Mother in the Council Chamber in Kelemath the one that Lorin said he must fill? Tameron doubted it. "Or maybe it would be harder," he said. "I thought only women ever became Blessed Mothers."

"That was true in the past. All other Immunes have been women, and most of them died from giving mages to our land. I kept telling myself I wasn't sure. After all, you might stop having such strong shields when your body changed into that of a man. And I must admit that I hoped you would manifest the talents of all four Elements, and not just one or two. I dreamed you might be the Balance to break the barrier around the Empty Throne all by yourself."

But I am! All the others were, too! Tameron thought suddenly, and wondered where that notion came from. That strange old woman's voice echoed in his mind again. Run, boy, run... He shook his head to clear it. He wasn't in Kelemath. When he returned, he'd never be allowed to leave Dever Tower. "I must be a great disappointment," he said.

"Never. For you are the key to my plan to end the division between mage-kind and the commoners. When you cried out against Tigran and those like him, I felt the echo in my own heart. His evil is nothing compared to what I've already seen growing. Every year magic-users press harder on ordinary people and there's so little I've been able to do to stop it. If our numbers were less, then so would be the burden, but instead we increase. Mages pass on their powers while doing their Duty, and Outsiders come here each year. Even commoners sometimes have children with magic. Yet enough ordinary people remain that they suffer under our leadership. If nearly all of Fiallyn Mor had magic, then things would have to change. People would still find ways to oppress each other, but at least they'd have to discover a different reason--and some would find it much more difficult to do so against those who are no longer so helpless."

"And I'm the key."

"Yes. A woman can have only so many children before she dies of it, or passes beyond the time when she is able to conceive. This is why Blessed Mothers are honored above all others. You left us last fall as a boy, but even I can tell you came back as a man, one who could sire an army and take no harm from it."

Tameron thought of something. "All my brothers and sister were mages. What makes you think mine will be so special?"

"Blessed Mothers only come from families where there is too much magic, rather than too little. This is why it will be better for all if most of your partners are ordinary women, rather than those like Kiliane."

"Then why her?" Tam knew it was hopeless to argue against it, after all he'd heard, but had to try anyway.

Lord Sidian looked old. "Because if I am destroyed by my enemies, you won't be far behind. I doubt any of your children, even one by her, will be like you anyway. For whatever reason, it doesn't seem to pass from parent to child, and I've never heard of two Immunes alive at the same time."

He didn't know what to say. As much as he wanted his freedom, he didn't want his father to pay the price.

"Oh, Tam, I know it's hard to give up all your hopes. But think of what you'll be doing to help the commoners. With your blood in them, mages like Tigran won't dare try to hurt them any more, not without paying the penalty."

"But I'll have to go to Dever Tower," Tam said out loud. He’d be a prisoner forever.

"Yes. Yet your son or daughter will follow me. And if I can raise this child to be like you, then I will be the proudest man in Fiallyn Mor. Most men will envy you, you know. Every month will be like a new Festival when the woman who's lucky enough to be chosen will come to you and be your bride."

And then leave. No matter how much I may care for her, she will never stay. I'll be no better than a whore in a brothel. At least Marysa had the ability to leave the inn when she could no longer stand it, even though she had to worry about Tigran's vengeance. If I go to Dever Tower, then I'm trapped, unless I escape somehow. Where could I go where I'd be safe, with the whole country looking for me? "I don't know!" he cried.

"You have a little while longer for that decision," his father said soothingly. "But Kiliane can't wait. If she is to bear a child without waiting another month, you must go to her tonight. Part of her temper comes from being deprived of childbane for the last two weeks, and not being allowed to see Mauric. The sooner you act, the happier she will be."

Happy? Not from what I heard last night! "It's still wrong," he said, but not as vehemently as before.

"I know how difficult this must be for you," the Protector said in a soothing voice.

"No, you don't! You had my mother for all those years, and now you have Mimn! I don't have anybody!"

"At least you don't need the Red Cup to force your body to love any woman," the Protector said in such a low voice that Tam barely heard him. "And if there is any evil in what you do tonight, then let it lie on my shoulders. Kiliane knows that the price of being a mage is the Duty. She's objected so far to all her other partners, so it's not just you."

"Why hasn't she been allowed to have any children with Mauric?" Tam asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Because Mauric has been so loyal to her. We have no idea what sort of children he will have, and the College finds it difficult to match Outsiders of unknown family with those such as Kiliane. Her mother had two other children before she was taken into the Sandega clan, even though the sacred chalice of the womb is far more valuable than the seed-chamber of men. Yours, of course, is different. When you were gone, I feared that you'd either been killed or been taken by my enemies to increase their own power. Tam, it's not going to be that hard for you. Kiliane is strong and ready for child-bearing. Don't disappoint her."

Tameron bowed his head. He knew it was wrong, yet it was tempting to listen to his father. He loathed the idea of being penned up for the rest of his life, the slave of his body's appetites...but one part of him was shamefully pleased at the prospect. No more struggle to win anyone's approval, only a life of ease and pleasure, and yet being able to help the ordinary people anyway. It would be an odd way to fulfill his promise to Aylar, but he understood the Protector's reasoning. What a surprise for those like Tigran to have the common people rise up when magic was used against them!

"I know you're still not happy about it," his father said. "I remember how my grandmother broke the news to me that I had to face up to my Duty if I wanted to be her heir despite my own tastes. I can't offer you that. Yet you'll have a month with every woman who comes to you, and I suspect you'll find a way to make your influence known. I must have an heir I can have follow after me, and only Kiliane can be that child's mother. I wish it could be otherwise. You're such a good warrior that people might not see how tender your heart really is. You will be doing the right thing by preventing a possible civil war. Kiliane understands, believe me."

Everything that was so clear last night now seemed muddled. Was the Protector right? Maybe he ought to talk to Kiliane and find out how she really felt. For all he knew she had changed her mind. He bowed his head.

"I can't believe how late it is!" Lord Sidian said. "You must be starving!" He stood up, went to the door, and said, "Have the trays brought in." Then he sat back down and said, "If it's any consolation, one of my duties is to confer with the Blessed Mother--or the Blessed Father in your case--on behalf of the Council once a month. You'll probably see me more often than you have in the past. I know what that says about me," he ended wryly. "It's possible that Randor will be allowed to visit as well. Cheer up. It won't be as bad as you think."

Both the carrot and the stick. Anything I want except my freedom if I cooperate, and disaster if I don't. His Duty lay like a leaden weight on his heart. Dare he risk the Protector's life as well as his own by trying to escape this destiny? What if his father was right? What if this was the only way he could help the commoners in this land?

The food came. He was glad to see that his tray was accompanied by a large cup of clear water that tasted as pure as if it had come from the Guardian's heart.

His father smiled as Tameron eagerly drank it. "The food's a little spicy tonight, since you're eating what I usually do," he said. "And you can see for yourself there's nothing wrong with what you're drinking tonight. But no matter what you've heard about the Red Cup, you don't need to be afraid of it. I had to use it when I was nearly as young as you, and it didn't turn me into a monster. Oh, I know all the rumors! But you've had a little of that potion already. When you were so ill, you had small doses of it each day to lend you strength. If it didn't hurt you then, you need not fear it now."

He gaped in astonishment. "But...wasn't that what the Bog Butcher used?"

"Yes, but he used it in amounts that would drive anyone mad. In the dose someone like you would have, it would only bring out what was already inside. And I know you long for her. When you held her close the other night, she had no doubt of that!"

Tam's face went hot when he remembered how his body had reacted to her warmth and grace. Then he went cold with terror when he recalled the dreams he'd had about her. A good thing my cup has only water in it. How can I tell him what kind of beast I have inside me?

The Protector stood up as soon as both plates were empty. "I have other duties tonight. Oh, Tam, I wish it didn't have to be like this! I know what it's like to carry the weight of the world, but I'd hoped you wouldn't have to, at least not so young. Just talk to Kiliane, and remember that you are helping all of Fiallyn Mor when you do what I ask."

Tameron rose and bowed in respect. He was so confused. Part of him wanted to run as fast and as far away as he could, while another gloried in all the possibilities of the future his father had mapped out for him. What was he supposed to do?

Then the door shut behind his father with a solid sound, and he was on the wrong side of it. A guard in the hallway spoke through the keyhole, saying he had orders for Tameron to stay there until his father returned.

He paced around the room, searching for possible exits. Out of curiosity, he picked up the cover on the cup on the mantel over the hearth. It had wine in it, wine with a suspiciously familiar smell. Apparently the Protector had been right about the potion that had given him much-needed strength last fall. He quickly covered it back up and walked away from it. It was a temptation to drink it, and let all blame for whatever happened fall on the drug inside. But I would be the one who drank knowing what it was.

Tam checked the windows. They were locked with a mechanism he didn't recognize or understand, probably keyed only to magic. Magic he didn't have. He wiped sweat off his forehead. How am I going to escape? He tried breaking the glass, but his sword didn't chip it.

He stared at the small door on the other side of the room, the door he'd been ignoring all along. That was the only path that lay open to him. With any luck he'd be able to avoid Kiliane and the temptation he felt to fulfill his father's command.

He trembled, the way he had when he'd been in the barn with Marysa. Why am I so nervous? It's not like I mean to do her harm even if I can't avoid seeing her. I'm awake now, not asleep. I won't act the way I did in my dreams!

Tameron opened the door and walked down a dimly lit hall. Why was it so hot in here? He knew his father liked it warmer than most people, but this was ridiculous.

He reached the end and pulled aside the bulky curtain that covered the entrance to the next room. It was darker here than in the passageway, while the air was thick with moisture. The sound of water softly falling reached his ears.

Then his eyes adjusted to the scene as he stepped all the way into the chamber. A pool illuminated by floating, flickering lights dominated one half of the large room, but he barely noticed it after catching sight of Kiliane curled up on the bed several yards away. Her long, dark hair streamed out over her body, though it appeared she wore no other clothing. The wrinkled mattress-cover showed where she'd tried to pull it up to provide some concealment.

Though she was turned away, it was easy for him to imagine what she must look like, and he suddenly burned with desire for her. He stepped forward, longing to have that silken skin next to his own. I just want to talk to her.

He must have made some noise, as she sat up and stared at him. Tam nearly stopped breathing as he looked at her naked breasts. They were smaller than Marysa's, but just as beautiful. His throat went dry imagining how they'd feel in his hands.

"So here you are," she said in a husky voice. "I suppose it's what I deserve for daring to argue against our beloved Protector. Well, let's get it over with. They've made me ready to accept anyone, even the lowliest peasant, in my bed."

It didn't matter. He longed for her more than ever, no matter what she said to him. Wait a moment. I know she hasn't really changed her mind. Why doesn't that bother me the way it did before? "The Red Cup?" he asked, surprised he could still speak.

"Oh, yes. They bound me here with glasscloth and let me look at all that water till I was thirsty enough." A tear rolled down her cheek.

He breathed deeply, trying to overcome the impulse to strip off his clothing and join her on the bed. He noticed that her hands were free, and the window on the other side of the room looked like his own. Does she really want to get away, or does she secretly want me, but is afraid to tell Mauric? "No one's keeping you here now. That window will open, I think.”

"Out into that weather, with nothing to wear?" she cried. "I can't even keep myself warm with magic tonight. Your father doesn't trust me! I can't even light a candle now!"

He was immediately ashamed of himself, though it didn't diminish the lust he felt for her. "I only had plain water at dinner tonight," he said, thinking out loud. "But the food was spicier than usual..."

"That's right," she said, "blame that for whatever you do! I'm not strong enough to fight you off anyway."

"But I pushed you away before," he argued. Did he have the strength to do it again tonight?

"Only because it was the wrong time and place. Now you have your father's command to justify you," she sneered.

Tameron gritted his teeth before he got too close to her. Even now he could smell her musky perfume, a scent that drove him to aching like he never had before. Why do I feel like this? Even when I wanted Marysa so much, I thought I would die of it if I couldn't have her, I could stop. Even when I dreamed I killed Jarrett or Mauric to have a woman, I knew it was still only a dream. Oh, if only I could just touch her, lie next to her, maybe that would be all I needed...

He began taking first one step, and another, towards Kiliane despite knowing it was wrong. "I won't hurt you," he whispered. Nothing mattered any more, nothing but being close to her soft, warm flesh. Part of him screamed a warning, but he couldn't listen.

Her shoulders slumped, and she bowed her head as he stepped closer. The flickering light on her breasts and slim thighs entranced him. His father's words, 'let all the blame fall on me' and the way he felt drowned out his conscience. "All I want is to love you, Kiliane," he said in a whisper. "Why is that so wrong? This is the only Festival I will ever have before they lock me away forever..."

For a moment she looked up, sympathy in her eyes. Then she laughed harshly. "Yes, I've heard. A hard life for a man, having a new woman every month! I'm sure everyone will pity you!" She lay down and opened her arms. "Oh, what's the use! You'll do what you want anyway!"

Anger briefly surged within him, and added to the desire burning in his veins. Now he wanted to punish her. How best to do that but to put his child in her, a child he knew she didn't want! He tried to tell her that, and was horrified to hear only an inarticulate grunt leave his lips.

The Red Cup, a voice within him said. It was meant to ease the way, but became a trap...

He was close enough to reach out to her now. Suddenly his clothes were stifling him. It was the Protector's fault he felt like this now. Why shouldn't he take what was given him?

Kiliane quickly sat up as he struggled with his belt. Flames flared from her fingers. Tam ducked. The fire-bolt sped towards his head, passed through him harmlessly, and started a small blaze on a wall-hanging just behind him. He beat the fire out, his hands smarting a little, and wished the conflagration inside him would subside as easily.

He turned aside quickly. As he did, Kiliane barely missed him with the dagger she'd stolen from his belt. He backed off, fear finally overcoming his desire. "I thought you said you couldn't light a candle!" he said.

"I lied," she said, smiling sweetly. She put down the dagger, called flame into her hands again, and this time sent it directly at Tam.

He twisted away, but some of the bolt hit him anyway, and his shirt began burning. Tameron screamed and plunged into the pool. Some of the floating lights nearly struck him in the face.

The water wasn't very deep, but he stayed under as long as he could anyway, and came up for air only when he had to. In the pool's gentle waters, his mind began to cool. Lord and Lady, what was wrong with me? I can't blame it all on my father or the Red Cup. I was just using them as excuses to do what I really wanted. He thought of something and almost laughed. All she has to do is to touch me and she'll be safe, if only for a little while! But I don't have the strength to stop myself tonight. What is wrong is wrong. I can't build that bridge that Aylar wanted me to if I start with rotten struts. I'll go to Dever Tower if I must, but I'll do it without becoming the beast of my nightmares.

He climbed out of the pool, resolved to get away somehow. He couldn't trust himself here, not with the Red Cup inside. In fact, he felt a familiar feeling in the back of his throat, an aftertaste he'd experienced last fall when he'd been forced to go to Council meetings. Father must have put it in the food. No wonder it was so spicy.

"Now your fire won't work," he said. "My clothes are soaking wet now, and you can't burn the rest of me."

She held the dagger up again. Tam felt divided into two; one part of him still burned to lie with her, but his mind, at least, was clear enough to force his body to keep away. He strode to the window and opened it. The cold, damp air helped him stay where he was. The chill reached his sopping clothes and helped him keep to his resolve, though even with that distraction he still had to struggle.

At least he wasn't going to risk re-enacting any of his dreams tonight. He was glad now he'd had the warning of his nightmares before he'd ridden off into the storm last fall. I could easily take that dagger away from her. I'm trained to arms, and I doubt she is. He shuddered. I have to leave, or I'll get stupid again. Just looking at her is enough to make any man lose his mind!

He began climbing out of the window, and was halfway out when Kiliane rose on her knees in the bed.

"Keep going!" she said, and aimed the point at him.

"As you wish!" he said. Even an amateur could get in a lucky blow under the circumstances.

Once he was all the way out and hanging onto the ledge, she threw the dagger out the window, almost hitting him with the hilt. "Your father is going to be angry with me anyway, and I'm not a thief!" she said, then quickly shut and locked the window.

"Too bad you can't summon Mauric!" he shouted through the glass. The young mage might have been in his father's chambers once; wouldn't it be a fine trick to play on the Council to let true love finally have its way?

The smile on her face distracted him so much he nearly fell. Maybe tonight they'll both finally get what they want, he thought, and then forced himself to turn his face towards the darkness. I can't stay here, he realized, He remembered the dream where he was the one tied to the bed. The next time I might not have any choice at all.

 

Chapter 17

 

Tameron shivered as the chill wind struck his wet clothing. He rapidly became aware that his soaked slippers gave his feet little protection from the snow now blowing into the cracks of the ledge. The bad weather had shown up right on schedule. He hung on to the ledge and carefully kicked them off. He should take off the stockings, too, but that was beyond his ability just now.

It was much darker than the night before. Then he'd had the light of the stars and moon to guide him, but tonight they were covered by heavy clouds. He could barely see the courtyard below him with falling snow providing a curtain.

At least it isn't sleet falling down my neck. Fortunately, the potion inside him kept him warm once he started moving. He hung onto the wall by the window to orient himself at first. He was on the wrong side of the castle, closer to the barracks and the bath, but away from the stables and his room. Tam didn't know if he could make it all the way around without falling or being discovered, but knew he'd better try.

I'll make for that dragon statue at the corner. His groin still ached, and he had to force himself not to go back towards Kiliane. Surely she doesn't want me to freeze to death, he thought resentfully. Then he spoke to himself out loud. "No. I won't do it. Besides, she's probably locked the window by now. And Mauric might already be there." He remembered listening to Jarrett and Marysa in the barn that one night before he'd regained his memory and how ugly it'd made him feel. He was annoyed that the vision of the other couple didn't reduce his yearning--in fact, in some ways he wanted Kiliane even more. Maybe Randor was right about the Red Cup, and my father was wrong. He kept moving. He had to be as far away as possible from temptation if he was going to lose his mind. At least that way he could avoid hurting Kiliane, whose only real crime was to love someone else.

He finally reached the stone dragon on the first corner and leaned on it for a moment. Most noble of beasts, can you help me? Dragons have always stood for wisdom, even with people like me who weren't raised to worship you. I know I'm not the Silver Dragon they said I was in the puppet show, but for Lorin's sake, who is your friend, lend me some of your power!

Suddenly he shook with cold and his stomach churned. Tameron feebly clung to one curved claw as he spewed what remained of his dinner over the side. His fingers nearly slipped on the slick surface, but somehow caught a fresh grip on rough stone before he fell. Once he was steadier, he hung on with one hand and used the other to wipe the foulness from his mouth.

Tameron rested there for a short while. His body still demanded release, but his mind was clear enough to know what he must do. "Thank you, dragon," he whispered, though for what he wasn't sure. At least he wouldn't have the potion he hadn’t digested yet to deal with.

He moved on. Just past the dragon-statue was a cascade of layered stones in a familiar pattern. Tam felt every breath of chill wind, while his feet were going numb. He'd have to watch his steps more carefully, since his ability to feel the way was less with every clump of snow that soaked the heavy wool of his stockings.

He stopped at the corner. He had a decision to make now. He might be better off heading directly towards the stables below and hope to find spare clothing inside. No. That wouldn't work. He needed to get completely dry before going anywhere, and on a night like this all the extra cloaks would likely be in use. I can't leave like this. I'd perish from the weather nearly as quickly as Kiliane would. He hated dying so stupidly.

I have to be on my way soon. He began climbing to the third level. A night journey in a winter storm was madness, but trusting his father was worse. "I almost gave in," he said to himself as he got to the third level. The wind was worse up here. Anger gave him strength now. "Father didn't trust me to believe him! He put poison in my food to make me do what he wanted!"

I can't let them catch me, he realized as a gust of wind nearly peeled him away from the ledge. If I become a prisoner of Dever Tower after refusing to hurt Kiliane this time, will she be my first 'bride'? And what will they do to me there to force me to obey? How much of the Red Cup will they give me next time? He shuddered. He was ashamed to realize that he'd do anything, anything at all, to avoid the potion, no matter how wrong. At first he'd thought that escaping tonight might be enough. Now he realized that he must leave and never return, even if he risked his death or worse by challenging the Elements. If his belief about the Earth Giant was wrong, he'd have to make his way to Warding and try his luck in the Anchor Pool. Better my body caught in the muck at the bottom than being trapped in a life as no better than a beast!

He realized that he was now over Randor's room, but it would be a mistake to ask for help. His old servant would do his best to care for him, but that would use time he might not have. And who knew? Randor would tell him he was only a fool for not obeying the Protector in the first place. Why, the old man might notify the guards, just so his charge would be safe. If Stine's there again, I’ll never be allowed to leave. I'm still not as tired as I was last night at this time, and the linen rag is probably still tied around the dragon closest to my room. If they've locked my window again, I'll break the glass and go in anyway.

He moved as quietly as he could closer to the Guardian's chambers. She'd never believe her own brother was capable of such treachery. Or maybe she would, and think it was justified by his reluctance to do his Duty.

Tameron carefully inched out onto the dragon nearest his aunt's window. He was amazed to find that the surface felt cold, but was dry. How did that happen in this rotten weather? He wasn't about to question his luck. That made climbing down to the clawed feet much easier. Fortunately his window hadn't been locked, and opened without any trouble.

At last he was in his own room. He wanted to collapse on the bed, but knew that would be a bigger mistake than stopping to say a last farewell to Randor. He stripped and dried himself, then dressed in fresh clothing. His feet were still numb, but after he wrapped them in wash-rags soaked in hot water from the privy, they began to sting. He gritted his teeth against the pain, but knew he dare not begin this journey until they were warm clear through. Once he thought they were all right, he put on as many pairs of stockings as he could and still fit into an extra set of slippers. I was an idiot to give those old boots to Lorin! My feet might hurt more now, but at least I'd have more protection from the snow.

Too late to do anything about that, unfortunately. He packed all the things he'd picked out before in the spare cloak and tied everything up. He also unsheathed his sword and dagger, dried them off, and wiped them with the oiled cloth in his kit, though he grudged every moment. How long will it take before my father finds out that Kiliane is alone? Or maybe even not there, if Mauric can take her away? I've got to get going!

Tam looked out the window. He didn't really want to go back out, but had no choice. At least now I'm dressed for it. He used his dagger to slice a strip of cloth off his sheet and tied his makeshift carryall to his back. Then he remembered a pouch he had with a few coins, and fastened that to his belt. At the last moment, he took out one of the glow-bulbs in his room, and muffled it well so its light wouldn’t betray his presence.

The stone turned his fingers to ice once he went outside. As soon as he was back on the ground again, he could risk wearing gloves, but not yet. He looked up at the dragon, and decided it was too much of a risk to pass by the Guardian's window again. He stayed on the second level and went as far as he could till he reached the gap. Tam paused for a moment. That was a mistake. The wind blew so hard he nearly fell, even though he was hanging on. The bundle on his back caught the force like a sail. He blew on his fingers to get some feeling back into them, carefully lowered himself to where he could grasp the edge of the narrow walkway, and let himself dangle. He was still some distance above the ground, but let go. He'd never be able to pull himself back up.

The fall knocked the breath out of him when he landed on an icy patch and his feet slid out from underneath. He slowly stood back up, his wrist stinging with pain from a scrape, and a face full of snow and mud. He wiped his face, which only made it feel worse. Then he gratefully put his gloves on, though he winced when the cuff of the left one rubbed against the sore spots.

The courtyard looked empty, but with so much snow falling he couldn't really tell. If he remembered the afternoon briefing in Stine's office correctly, there should only be one guard down here. Most likely he was keeping close to the gate. After all, a mage set the wards at sundown each day. With guards now assigned to the roof, who apparently hadn't seen him, judging by the lack of arrows headed in his direction, and the bad weather, he thought he had a chance to make it to the stables without being spotted.

Tameron dashed for the side entrance, big enough to lead a pony through. The main doors would almost certainly be locked this time of night. The smaller entry-way opened quietly. He vaguely remembered hearing something about the night groom and one of the maid-servants--with any luck, the man was too busy to watch out for him. He still walked carefully near the quarters for the stable hands. Fortunately they usually went to bed at sunset, though Stine might have posted a sentry there in the last couple of days.

He breathed a sigh of relief once he'd made it to the horse-stalls. No one had challenged him so far. Everything was quiet except for the snuffling breath of sleeping horses. Tam was glad none of the beasts was ailing, or a groom might be sitting up with it.

He set his bundle down for a moment. Where was the stall for the chestnut mare? Was she still here? He checked the loose box where she usually stayed. The sweet beast recognized him and nickered softly. "Hush, hush," he whispered. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed one side of the clean straw that covered the floor was much higher than the other. He crept into the box, taking his bundle with him, and pushed some of the horse's bedding aside. His helmet and breastplate glinted underneath. He lifted up the plate, and saw what it covered.

Tameron swallowed back tears when he ran his hands down the pair of large old boots. They were probably Randor's. Inside, he found two extra pairs of dry stockings, a small pot of salve in one toe--and a pouch with his woodworking tools in the other. He changed out of his soaked slippers, rubbed his feet to put some warmth back into them, and sighed with contentment once he was properly dressed and shod.

He packed the contents of his spare cloak and the armor in a pair of saddlebags, and filled the space left with dried rations and a couple of water bags. Fortunately chain mail folded, more or less, but he had to put his helm in one bag and the chest-plate in the other. He'd fill the waterskins on the way--if nothing else, there was plenty of snow, and he could carry one underneath his arm.

He loaded his gear on a small, good-natured pony named Mujuk, and saddled the chestnut mare. He even put a bridle on the horse, though he wasn't going to ride her. With any luck she'd delay searchers looking for him by going off in a different direction.

He led both beasts one at a time out the side door, his heart pounding with fear that someone would wake up and catch him. After all the books he'd read about the law, he knew more than he liked about what happened to prisoners that tried to escape too often. Some were blinded, while others were deliberately crippled. Father never mentioned that possibility for me, but I imagine someone will think of it if I am caught tonight.

Tam began walking as quickly as he could towards one exit he knew was guarded by a friend. Luck was still running with him, and he'd best take advantage of it.

A tall man loomed out of the storm in the middle of the courtyard. "Here, now, where are you going with those beasts?" he demanded.

He nearly ordered him to keep quiet out of habit, but thought better of it. "The Protector's son promised me a lot of money if I waited for him with these horses outside the gate into town. He told me the guard knew all about it, and would let me through," he said. He'd never seen this man before, or didn't remember him anyway, and hoped he wasn't recognized. "He said he wanted to meet that redheaded girl that he liked, and not just whoever his father picked out for him. I asked him what he wanted a pack pony for, and he said it wasn't any of my business. I know we're not supposed to talk to him, but he gave me these coins and said he'd have more when I met him again." Tam pulled out a few from his pouch and held them on his hand. "See? These are silver, but he said if I did what he asked the others would be gold. Do-Dorena, my sister, complains because I don't send enough home." He kicked himself for using a name that the Protector would recognize once the night groom told someone else about this.

The man laughed, and swept them out of Tameron's hand into his own. "Then I'll follow you, and we'll both be rich."

"He said I have to be alone, or I can whistle for my money," he said, throwing in a bit of a whine.

"Oh, well. Take the horses where he told you to, and come back to me as soon as you see the young lord. It wouldn't be right to let him fall into bad company. I'm sure his father will be grateful to us. I would hate to have to speak to the day groom about one of his lads."

It'd look odd if he didn't protest. "What, and lose everything else he gives me?"

"No, no, this is plenty. You can keep all the rest. But I want to be the one who tells the Protector where his precious son has run off to this time. You owe me that for letting you get this far! And here, take this one back--the guard will probably want it to let you pass." The night groom handed over one of the coins. "I'm surprised you're awake. After someone sent down wine to keep you lads warm, all your friends are snoring like pigs. If I hadn't been with Tirea instead, I'd be asleep myself, I suppose. And now we both have this splendid opportunity. No doubt the young lord planned that generous gesture, too."

I wish I had! "I only got a mouthful," he complained. Then he touched his forehead in feigned respect, and led the two mounts away.

That had been a close call! Maybe it was a good thing he'd fallen the way he had and gotten dirt on his face. Or perhaps the night groom was only pretending to let him go, and was even now calling the alarm. He took the horse and the pony around a building so the man couldn't tell which way he really meant to go. Now he welcomed the thick snow that filled the court yard with a white curtain. Randor must have sent the wine. But how did know I was going to leave tonight?

Fortunately he knew his way around well enough to keep heading north, towards the Guardian's Gate. It led directly to the small dock that held her boat, which sailed to and from Neyarmie Isle whenever his aunt wished it to.

The sound of lapping water lured him onward. The potion now burned within him with renewed power. How would I feel now if I hadn't thrown up? he wondered fearfully. It seemed to be helping him now, though.

A hooded figure stepped out of the blowing snow right at the Gate itself. Tam loosened his sword in its sheath, just in case, and relaxed when he saw a friendly face. "Lorin! It's me!" he said, and let go of the hilt.

His friend's face went white, and he drew his blade. "You must not pass."

Tameron quickly wrapped the leading reins of the horse and pony around a nearby post and went for his own weapon. "What?"

"How can you desert us?" Lorin advanced on him, and attacked, though with nothing Tam couldn't defend himself against.

"You don't know! My father has seen my death in his glass. And what good can I do anyone as a prisoner of Dever Tower?" He parried one blow just barely in time.

"Did he tell you the truth? Maybe he just wants to keep you from your destiny," Lorin said contemptuously. "Even death can be glorious in the right cause."

"If I thought it'd accomplish something, maybe you're right! But he put the Red Cup in my own dinner to make me do what he wants. If I don't leave tonight, I'll be no good to anyone!" He was embarrassed to hear so much fear in his own voice. He tried a different tack. "I don't see you up in the hills!"

"Who do you think it was that saved your life in Lochil last fall?" Lorin asked. He rushed forward and tried to disarm Tameron.

Tam blocked it, and attempted the same thing. "I wondered about that. They use white fletching on their arrows, don't they? I met someone this winter who knows more about it than you do, and he said I'd be a fool to join them."

"Not if they had a true leader. If you call, half the country will join you."

And then Stine will die, and my father will be forced to kill me. Would he lie to his own sister, Lorin? He was amazed that his friend had been able to say so much. Perhaps being around so many dragons for the last few days had eased the spell the Protector had put on him.

As their swords clashed again, Tam said, "Lorin, all the dragons in Fiallyn Mor will fly the day I sit on the throne of the Last King in Kelemath. That's how likely it is. My father's enemies will kill me long before then, unless I'm safe in Dever Tower--but then I'll never be allowed to leave it as long as I live. Can your friends help me there? There is no place for me this side of the Wall." Only death, or a life worse than death, waited for him here.

He moved forward, anxious to end this now and be on his way before it was too late. "Lorin, don't you see? I can't be your Silver Dragon...if they find me I'll be their whore for the rest of my life. If my father's plans succeed, there won't be any ordinary people, just mages. Who will worship the dragons then?"

His friend suddenly lowered his sword and stared upward at something. Tameron wasn't going to be fooled by that old trick. "Look, remember the story of the Littlest Dragon? If he'd gone with all his friends, he would have been captured, too! He wouldn't have been able to rescue anybody."

Lorin's eyes were still wide as he kept on looking at whatever it was. Then he knelt, and laid his weapon down on the hard packed snow.

Tam moved aside, so he could keep an eye on his friend, and then glanced back to see what impressed Lorin so much.

He gasped for breath when he raised his eyes to the wall of the Guardian's palace. Every dragon facing them glowed with light. The mystery grew deeper as he realized that he was giving off a glimmer through the gap between his gloves and his sleeves.

"Your face...blessed Lord and Lady, now I understand!" Lorin said, struggling to get the words out. "You-- you really are the Dragon!" Then he choked and fell on the ground.

Tameron approached Lorin warily. Stine had taught him well that an enemy was just as dangerous when he was down. He calmed down as soon as he realized that his friend was truly unconscious and not shamming.

He sheathed his sword and hauled the limp body over to a sheltered area. Shift change wasn't for several hours, and Lorin might die if left out in the weather that long.

It didn't matter that his father would have his friend's knowledge of where he escaped, likely before dawn. That was why he'd brought the horse. No matter how soon Lorin was forced to tell where he'd been, the searchers would still have to split their forces.

He was just about to step away when his friend sat up. "I can't stay here!" Lorin said. "He'll make me tell him that you went this way!" He rubbed his eyes. Then he slowly drew out his dagger and turned the point towards his chest.

Tam rushed forward and seized his friend's arm. "Wait! Don't do this! It's not worth it!"

"But you're right. You have to escape. I can't be here for them to find out which way you went."

He suddenly realized a better way out. "You don't have to be here! I brought a horse and a pony. If you ride the horse west to Warding, and keep ahead of them, they won't know which of us went where."

Lorin sighed, and resheathed his blade. Tam helped him stand. "You can't stay here. You were right about that. Stine would find out that you let me through and didn't report it. Do you think she'd believe you about those dragons lighting up?"

His friend laughed hollowly. "I'll be on punishment detail for the rest of my life! But I can't betray you. I can't!"

"Father saw my body down at the bottom of the Anchor Pool, but he never said anything about yours. If you don't want to go to Warding, then go to Bogatay and find a man named Jarrett. He wears a dragon tattoo on his wrist, and spent some time up in the hills. He probably can't speak about it any more since the Protector found out, but he'll find a way to help you."

Lorin nodded. "I obey the Dragon as I would my own father," he said.

They both walked out the gate, Lorin leading the horse while Tam handled the pack-pony. He began dividing the rations.

Lorin shook his head. "No, my lord, I'll go far enough without anything tonight, and lie up in the morning. I have friends in places you don't know about, either. If you mean to beard the Giant in His den, your journey may be longer than you think."

Tam nodded. "Too bad we don't have Mauric with us! I bet he'd like to go back to Athlath after tonight."

"I heard about him going after you this afternoon. He just found out they'd been feeding him childbane for the last few weeks, and was furious."

"I hope he finds Kiliane and they can both go away together," Tameron said. Then who will be my father's heir? he wondered uneasily. For a moment he wished that he could stay. A wave of longing swept through him, as he suddenly realized that he really didn't want to leave. But I have to. I'm not the only one who will be hurt if I don't run. And the Council will be glad to have me gone anyway. That should make my father's life easier. I have to keep going.

They walked silently through the gate. He latched it, and looked back one last time. The dragons' light was beginning to fade. If only they were real! He spoke to them anyway. "I will come back. I promise."

He stepped forward. High bushes, just beginning to bud even in this weather, stood on either side of the path to the lake shore where the ground sloped downward. "This is where we have to split up," he said.

Lorin nodded, and mounted the chestnut mare. "Even if it snows a lot more tonight, they'll find two sets of tracks going in different directions eventually. I'll head west and south as long as I can before they catch me. Don't worry about me. At most I'll have to go back to my family. Stine's hard, but she's fair."

Tameron hoped his friend was right. He could think of all sorts of hideous alternatives, now that it was too late to back out. "Be careful," he said. "The Guardian can search through the eyes of other people, and maybe she can do it through animals, too."

Lorin looked down at the horse, and laughed. "Then we'd better both go as fast as we can!" he said, and urged the mare forward to the shore ahead. "I'm stronger than I look, Lord Tameron. I won't fail you!" He rode ahead, and turned to the left once he reached the end of the path. He soon lost sight of his friend and the mare in the falling snow.

He took a strip of cloth from one of the saddlebags and covered Mujuk's eyes. Why take chances? If the Guardian wanted to follow him by using the pony's mind, she could, but now she'd have to work at figuring out where he was. Lorin was giving up his whole life in the guards just to help him escape, a sacrifice he'd better not waste.

Mist rose from the lake and mingled with the snowflakes as he approached the water. He heard little save for the clink of the pony's hooves against rocks hidden in the thin winter grass, and his own quick breathing. The dwindling flakes of snow felt cool and pleasant on his hot face. The drug his father had given him was still working, or so he guessed from the pain in his groin. How sick would I be now if I hadn't thrown up some of it? As long as it gave him strength now, he'd take the bad with the good. He'd never have such a chance again.

The pony stopped for a moment, then refused to move no matter how Tam urged her on. Surely the Guardian couldn't have found him so soon? "My lady," he said out loud, though in a soft voice. "I have to leave or I'll die." He felt ridiculous talking to the little beast this way, but at least nobody was watching. "My father's enemies will destroy me, a second dose of the Red Cup will drive me mad, or I'll become...I'll become the slave of Dever Tower, too cowardly to take the only way out." He nearly puked again at that possibility. "Even Marysa was braver than that. She ran away before Tigran could turn her into a whore despite knowing what he was going to do to her. Let me go, I beg of you!" He tugged forcefully on the halter-reins. This time Mujuk came willingly. Tam didn't know if he’d talked to the Guardian or to the pack-pony, but at least he was on his way.

 

Chapter 18

 

After walking a short while longer, he stepped into the water of the lake. Tameron rubbed his eyes. How could he feel so tense and still long for sleep? He must stay awake. The mist was so thick here at the shoreline he could barely see. His tiny light, hidden in his pack wouldn’t do any good here. He put his hand in the water and wiped his face. That helped him concentrate.

He couldn't take the Guardian's boat. For one thing, it had no oars. Only her magic moved it from here to the island. But there was another route, and one he could take Mujuk on with him. Kadramas Lake was shallow between the spit of land that jutted into the lake less than half a mile east of here and the tiny dock on the shore of Neyarmie Isle.

He had to find that spit of land. The lake was too deep to ford anywhere else. Tam turned right and began walking as quickly as he could with the pony to lead. He felt water seeping through the bottom of his boots, but he had to stay close to the shore. It was so hard to see!

Suddenly he realized that he was on the gravel bar leading out towards the island. How far did it go? It didn't take long till both he and Mujuk were at the end. He bent down and picked up a few stones, and tossed them. He had to go in the right direction, or face the possibility of drowning if he stepped out of the shallow portion into the deep. It was still too dim to see the direct route.

Tam threw one stone, and listened to its silent fall. He should have heard a splash, but didn't. He turned one small fraction to the right, and threw again. That time he definitely heard it fall into water. One more turn, one more throw, and that time he heard a satisfying solid sound. He dug a line in the gravel under his feet, then turned and threw a few more times to the left. The first couple of throws also landed heavily, while the next three fell into the water. He split the difference down the middle, and headed in that direction.

He began leading the pony into the water. The island's outline now began to loom as a darker shadow in the gloom. It must be getting lighter. He shivered as cold water slopped over the top of his boots. Mujuk balked, but responded to his pull.

The level of the water went up to Tameron's knees, and then crept even higher. He hung onto the pony's back for balance as his footing became slippery. He felt hot and chilled at the same time, and his mouth became dry with the fear that he was going to go too deep. Perhaps his father had seen him dead here and only thought it was the Anchor Pool. He pressed on anyway. Better death than life as a mindless animal or a quaking coward.

At last the water level began to drop, though both he and Mujuk were soaked nearly to the rump. The chill mist felt icy on his legs, while steep hills loomed in the darkness. Now he must climb them to reach the entrance to the tunnel to the Giant's Sanctuary beneath the Guardian's Shrine. As long as he kept going, he'd cover the distance somehow.

Once he was out of the wind in the shelter of the first few trees, he stopped for a moment and fed the pony some grain. Tameron forced himself to eat, though dried fruit glued together with nut-meal tasted like dust. Taking swallows of water with each bite helped. For a moment he wasn't sure the food was going to stay down, but it finally did. The drug was beginning to wear off and left weariness behind.

"Oh, Mujuk, I might as well take this off now," he said, removing the cloth around the pony's eyes. "I've gone too far to stop now. I have no choice."

Then he took the pack-beast onto the narrow, rocky path leading away from the water and began to follow the trail upwards. Most of the snow was clear from it, except for the flakes left from last night's storm, but that didn't affect his footing much. He grimaced when he saw the prints that he and Mujuk left behind.

Tam allowed himself and the pony a few rest stops on the way. Stine had taught him that exhaustion brought bad judgment to both man and beast. He felt ill and dizzy again, as he had on the castle parapets just after throwing up. Mujuk was tired, too, judging by her slow gait.

The sky began to lighten and he was still on the upward slope. He bit his lip. I have to find the Shrine soon. They must be looking for me by now. Lorin, ride fast! He hated thinking of his friend in danger because of him. If only some other guard had been on duty. Then again, I probably would have been forced to kill him. That's even worse.

He quickened his step and pulled harder on the lead. He had to wait till he was out of sight before he could rest again. At least the trees offered some cover now.

Tameron stood on the crest as the sun rose. Where could he and Mujuk hide during the day? What if they decided to search Neyarmie Isle first because it was closer? They had to know that Lorin was gone from his post by now. He glanced out onto the water, which he could see from the top. Nobody was crossing right now, but they could have earlier and he wouldn't have seen them.

He staggered down from the top towards the center of the isle to avoid being spotted, and nearly slipped again. He had to find someplace to hide. Once he stopped, he wasn't going to get up for a while. If any guards found him while he was asleep, he probably wouldn't wake up till it was too late.

I'm glad I can see where I'm going now, he thought. Making a misstep going downhill could be lethal. The hills around him were crowned with light, though it was still dark below the tops of the trees as he traveled onwards.

A great load lifted from his heart as he finally saw the Shrine. He'd never been here before, but the small, pure white building by the stream that ran near the heart of this island couldn't be anything else. Most of the snow around the chapel was gone, and the area surrounding it was already green with the first grass of spring.

He tied the pony behind the building so Mujuk could graze. If any beast deserved this holy feed, it was the brave pack-beast who'd followed him so far already.

Tameron entered the Shrine. Early sunlight shone in through the high rose window near the altar, which faced east. The colored glass showed a picture of the Lord, the Lady, and Their four children, the Elements. The icon below it which covered the wall all the way down to the floor was a painting of a mountain. Was it his imagination, or was the snowcap that lay on its top in the form of a sleeping dragon? On closer inspection, the picture of the whole mountain turned into that of a great-thewed man crouched under a great weight. Of course. Who else but the Giant could hold up the sky?

He knelt with reverence before the altar, covered by a shining white cloth. The stone block beneath stood on a floor of plain dark earth. The walls of the Shrine were also made of stone, with no other decoration than the painting behind the worship-table and the high window of light above.

Tam placed his hands on the cloth in supplication, and was surprised to feel strange bumps beneath the cloth. He glanced around the inside of the building again, but there were no doors but the one he came in. If there was a passage to the Sanctuary for Earth from here, he didn't know where it was.

He bowed his head and laid it on the table for a moment, then raised it back again. He hadn't come this far to give up. But for a moment he felt only peace. I know I'm not safe here either, but my heart is at rest now as it hasn’t been for...for...maybe forever. It was a real temptation just to let his troubles go and throw them into the lap of the Lord and Lady.

Perhaps it was time They helped him, if only by enabling him to figure out what to do. And if that didn't work, he'd do something. Faith was important, but what you did in its name mattered, too.

He carefully placed his hands on the cloth in preparation for his plea. Perhaps it made a difference whether they were on the bumps or not. Then Tameron recited the Great Prayer of Supplication, to be used only in desperate need. His fingers convulsively tapped the pattern that went with it. "Oh, Lord and Lady hear me!" he finished. "I must find a way out. Or I will ask you to accept my life. I can't do what they want me to do." For a moment he stopped. What of all those women who had become Blessed Mothers and risked far more than he ever had? "I'm not as brave as they were," he said out loud, hoping They would know what he meant. "How can it be right to do wrong?"

Of course nothing happened, and he realized why. He sighed, and began again. After all, the Lord was symbolized by the number one, and the Lady by the number two. The Giant was the oldest child, so His number was three. Arial was next, then Shapechanger, while Salamander was the youngest. The number seven stood for the stars, eight for all mages, and nine for the common people. Ten, with a one and a zero, showed that nothing existed without the Lord's power. It was only right to give the Giant the full number He deserved.

After the third repetition of the litany, Tam looked up at the painting and the colored window. The sun was up all the way now. Nothing had changed.

He stood up and walked around behind the altar, then ran his hand along the ridge of the painting. Wait. He hadn't noticed an edge to it when he'd knelt behind the holy table.

Tameron trembled with hope, and pulled. The painting was a door which opened to him.

He knelt again, his heart beating wildly. "Thank you," he whispered. "An open door. Such a simple thing, until you've lived behind a locked one..."

Then he stood and nearly ran out the front door to fetch the pony. He'd be even more thankful once he was truly safe!

Tam entered the tunnel through the icon-door, leading the pony with him. Mujuk was proving surprisingly cooperative. Once they were all the way in, he tried to close the door behind him, but it wouldn't latch. He pulled it as flush to the wall as he could, then left it. With any luck he could escape before they came this way. 

He was happy to see that small mage-lights glowed ahead of him, no doubt for the Guardian's convenience.

Then Tameron staggered and nearly fell. Weariness washed through him like a wave, and turned his knees to water. I can't rest yet. I have to reach the Giant's Sanctuary first. His legs and feet felt numb, while his face and chest felt hot.

"The Guardian said he could have come this way--look! You can tell the pony did!" said a muffled voice from behind the door to the chapel.

"They split up just past the Gate. He might have sent Lorin here, while he headed west. Damn both of them for being such idiots!" That was Stine herself speaking.

Tam charged forward blindly in panic, his exhaustion temporarily forgotten. He halted for a moment when the tunnel split into two, and neither way had any lights. He took the right-hand way rather than waste time trying to decide. The tunnel was dark, but the walls were smooth enough so he could guide himself and Mujuk with one hand despite its gradual turning.

"No--!" he muttered, when he bumped into the blank end of the passage-way. He rubbed his nose and swore softly to himself. If nothing else, he and the pony could rest a few moments in this cul-de-sac.

Tameron leaned against the stone and caught his breath. He patted the pack-beast more for his own comfort than for hers, though he was afraid she might whinny in fear and give away their position. He ran his hand around the dead-end in front of him, just in case. Wait! What was that projection? It felt almost like a lever of some kind. It might be a trap. If I pull on this, I might end up in a pit fifty feet below.

Then he heard voices in the tunnel behind him. It was only a matter of time till they found him if he did nothing. Tam worked the lever, and another hidden door swung open. Light spilled out into the passageway that would surely be noticed by his pursuers. He quickly entered the room and pulled the pony in after him, and then closed the door. One twist of the handle inside sent a hidden bolt home. Maybe he'd just exchanged one trap for another, but what choice did he have? He might defeat Stine, but not the whole escort.

Tameron looked around. He was inside a softly lit, luxurious chamber. The area around the hearth was paved in flat stones, but the rest of the floor was covered in thick carpet, full of dust, except for his footprints that showed that the pile was once dark blue. He looped the lead-rein around the door handle, unfastened the packs, and dropped them on the floor. I might be here for a while. Mujuk ought to rest a bit.

Then he opened the hearth-doors. As he hoped, they let heat out from a shaft that led to a pocket of warmth in the earth, using the same method used in the Guardian's castle to keep it comfortable.

Tam took off his damp clothes and boots. Then he found a dusty quilt lying folded on a day-bed, and dried himself with its clean inner surface. He found a small privy and used it. His groin was red and tender, and it hurt to pass water. He bent over from a momentary surge of pain. When is this going to get better? Shouldn't the potion be wearing off by now?

He was tempted to lie down and rest. Sleep might heal him when nothing else did. Tam listened carefully, and heard nothing outside the door. He sat down on the daybed, still wrapped in the quilt, and the next thing he knew he was lying down. He was so tired he barely noticed changing position to avoid increasing the ache in his groin.

Suddenly he was dreaming. He was back in the library in the Guardian's Palace. The sky outside was still dark, save for blowing snow apparent through the window. Tam felt himself pacing around the room. How did it get so late? Or maybe this is earlier. Time had no meaning in dreams.

The Guardian came through the door, clearly agitated by the way she walked. "He's gone," she said. "And in this weather!"

Tameron felt his mouth open, but it was the Protector's voice that came out. "No! We've got to find him."

Tam glanced down, and saw not his hands, but his father's. This must have happened hours ago--if dreams were to be believed.

"It's worse than you think. Both he and Kiliane resisted the Red Cup."

"It can't be. I gave him enough to guarantee he'd do what was needed. I tried to tell him not to blame himself, but I had no idea anybody could ignore the dose he got."

"You told me he'd get only a little," she said accusingly. “And I can’t believe you did this without even attempting the Ritual. Of course the two of them would balk without anything but lust to bring them together.”

"I didn't want him to blame himself. Besides, I managed to live through the same amount, and more than once at that," the Protector said harshly. “The Ritual is a cheat. Besides, Tam doesn’t really have magic as we understand it, and Lady Kiliane is already in love with someone else. It’s not like it would truly mean anything to either of them.

"But you know we have to find him! If he doesn't mingle his essence with a woman's then the potion will kill him. Didn't you tell him?"

Tam, still observing, shook with horror. The only woman close to me right now is Stine. I'll have better luck with the Earth Giant! Maybe the Guardian isn't telling the truth, though. Maybe she's just trying to scare my father.

Suddenly he heard a tiny voice in his mind. Did the Protector hear it, too? Oh, Mauric, help! Come to me. Follow my thoughts, beloved, and find me...

It was Kiliane, Kiliane crying out to her lover. "Wait," said the Protector. "Where is Mauric?"

"I gave him a potion to sleep in the confinement room in the barracks. It was the only way I could think of to make sure he stayed there."

"Kiliane is calling to him. Fortunately, I think I managed to intercept it. Perhaps I should let him hear it after all." The Protector began walking towards a chair by a hearth.

"Sidian, you're not going to like this. We both know he's been given childbane for the last couple of weeks. He found out this afternoon. That's why Stine had him locked up--the boy attacked your son this past afternoon because he was so angry. I had to make sure he fell asleep before he could make a jump out of there to cause mischief. But that's not important. A young woman who takes the Red Cup when her body is ready to conceive must be properly bred or she'll lose her ability to have any children at all. Explain that to Juri Sandega."

The Protector pounded his fist on a small table and shattered it. "I don't suppose you told her about that part!"

"Like you, I didn't think it necessary. I thought her power-hungry enough to do what she must."

"Then we must find my son!"

"The night-groom reported to me just a few minutes ago. He ran into who he thought was a stable-boy leading two mounts to the town gate. Then he returned, counted heads, and found that one horse and a pony were missing but the lads were all there. Stine has already checked the town gate, and the guard there swears he saw nothing. But with only one there, and in this bad weather, Tameron might have slipped by."

"Check the other gates, too. He told Randor that he might be going to Warding, but the boy had to know we'd ask the old man what he knew."

"You do realize that it will likely too late by the time we find him," the Guardian said gently.

"Yes, damn you! Why couldn't my son obey this once?"

"Kiliane put up a spirited resistance, brother. Don't put all the blame on him."

"It shouldn't have mattered to him. The Red Cup should have erased any such qualms. Well, I made preparations for even this eventuality. You'll have to run the search for Tameron, but I'll need your help with a couple of spells first. Once he's in Dever Tower we can still salvage something from this disaster."

"If he lives."

"You'll have to find out how, sister. Unfortunately I will be unable to help you. Let's go see Mauric first."

The Guardian walked over to the door and spoke with the guard. "He'll be brought here in a few minutes. What do you have in mind?"

"Believe it or not, Tameron had the idea first. He said it was too bad that magic didn't work on him, or maybe I could change him into Mauric."

"Oh. But they'll both have to believe--"

"Yes," his father said through gritted teeth. "They will. But I'd rather have people think me a fool than actually be one."

Someone knocked on the door. Tam, still an invisible observer in his father's head, watched it all in fascination. Two guards brought in Mauric's limp body and placed it in a chair.

After the pair departed and the door was closed, his father placed his hand on the young mage's head. "Mauric, you heard Kiliane's plea. You heard her cry for help, and her love for you," the Protector said. "You followed her mind to where her body is waiting for you. See the room. See the pool of water with floating lights. See the dim light and the curtains, though some of them are scorched. But most of all, see Kiliane naked and waiting for you. Yes, you heard that you were given childbane. But it was a lie, a lie meant to keep you from her. Why should we guard her so carefully if you could not give her a child? Now remember how well you love her, the touch of her skin and the silkiness of her hair. See her gladness when she knows you will be the father of her child. But remember that you can never tell a soul, or the Protector will be forced to disinherit both Kiliane and the child. Only deep in your heart, you will look upon this child and know that it is yours."

Mauric smiled, and began whispering to himself. "When you wake up," the Protector continued, "you will realize that you bespelled yourself to the library by accident, and that you must go back to the confinement room immediately before Stine finds out that you left. Your love for Kiliane has given you new strength, so you will find your magic undiminished by this night's passion or your ability to move yourself through walls. Kiliane will bear you other children, but you can never truly acknowledge this first one. Yet whenever you smile at each other, you will both remember this night."

Tam could feel his father's power go out into the younger mage. So that was what it felt like to have magic! It was like singing and always being in tune, or dancing and never missing a step. No wonder mages were so proud of their powers.

"Once this next spell is done, I'll need you to escort me to my own chambers," the Protector said.

"Why not do it there?"

"Because here we have Mauric himself to check the illusion against," his father said. "And I'll need a charm of invisibility. Mauric might find out that he was seen in the hallways, and we can't have that."

The Guardian nodded. Then the Protector began chanting and waving his hands. It felt as if his father was drawing power from the hearth to give him the strength he needed, Tam thought.

Tameron watched the Protector's hands. Soon they changed into thicker, shorter ones, with freckles instead of pale, wrinkled skin. The Guardian looked back and forth from Mauric to the man standing before her. "Perfect, except you shouldn't have any white in your hair at all...there. How long will this spell last?"

"For about an hour, but it's one that won't fade till then even when I...even when the rest of my magic is temporarily gone. Oh, damn my son and his tender conscience!"

"What have you offered him that's worth giving it up?" the Guardian asked. "A life as a prisoner, or a sorry death at the hands of your enemies? If he weren't in danger, I'd say let the boy go! Haven't you done enough to him?"

"You always know how to bring me down from my high horse," said the Protector wryly, though now even his voice sounded like Mauric's. "But if I had lied to him, instead of stupidly telling him the truth, he'd be asleep in her arms and as safe as you could wish."

"Or dead. Kiliane stole his dagger and nearly stabbed him as it was," the Guardian said.

The Protector sighed. "I see. Well, it won't be healthy for me to delay either. Let's go."

They swiftly walked down the hall to the Protector's personal quarters. Tam knew what was about to happen, but couldn't leave his father's mind. The Guardian talked her way past the guard with ease, but stalled at the door long enough to let 'Mauric' slip by.

His father, apparently having made up his mind to do everything as quickly as possible, strode up to the small table that held the cup, still concealed by a cloth. The Protector stared down on it. "After all this time I thought I was done with you!" he muttered angrily. Then he removed the cover, lifted the cup, and drank.

Tameron gagged at the taste, even though it was sweet as well as pungent. I have to wake up, I have to get out of here before he goes in and...

Stine's voice brought him back. Tam gladly woke up, even though he was frightened. "No, we can't go that way," said the commander from the other side of the locked door. "We'll need a mage to go past the wards in front of the hidden door there, and they're all searching to the west. And pipe down! The Guardian told me that sound carries oddly in these tunnels. If he really is there, he's probably listening to us right now. Lorin couldn't go past the wards, either." It was quiet for a moment. She spoke again. "Lord Tameron, you've got to come back with me. The Guardian told me you're only going to get sicker, whatever she means by that, and that she knows what to do to cure you. You'll never make it to the Giant's Sanctuary with us guarding the way. Come back with us, lad. No one's angry at you this time."

That was a lie. Tam knew his father certainly was furious, especially if his dream was true. No. The Guardian must have lied to Stine. It was only a dream. I have no powers, everyone knows that. How could I go into my father's mind like that, and without him noticing? It's just another tale meant to get me to come out. I'm not that sick, really. He ignored the ache that had spread up to his stomach and down both legs. He'd just slept in the wrong position and not long enough, was his only problem. I'll feel better once I start moving.

Then Stine's voice faded out. Tameron leaned against the door to listen some more, but heard nothing. Maybe it was like being under the Great Dome of Lights in Kelemath, where if you stood in the middle and whispered, everyone could hear you, while those who stood at the rim could shout all day and couldn't make their voices carry more than a few feet.

Then again, Stine might be that close--but he certainly hadn't noticed any wards. Maybe the commander thought he was no threat to Fiallyn Mor outside the Wall and wasn't even searching very hard. He'd better not count on that, though.

Tam shook his head to rid himself of the last remnants of his dream. It hurt to put his breeches back on, but he steadfastly ignored it. My dream can't be true. Surely my father couldn't do what he planned to Kiliane. He's much too old, even with the Red Cup. That's why he needed me. He shuddered for a moment as a vision of Kiliane eagerly reaching up to someone she thought was Mauric flashed through his mind.

He finished dressing. It was time he left, but he'd have to search for another door. So far he'd found two hidden entrances--why not try for a third, rather than risk the passageway outside? Tam gave the pony more grain and began looking through the place.

Was this set of chambers the Guardian's private sanctuary when the pressure of the world grew too great? If so, why the dust? Then he noticed a tiny figurine of a beautiful, fair-haired woman nearly hidden behind a lamp on the mantel over the hearth.

Tameron almost moaned out loud when he finally understood. His mother must have stayed here during the last months of her life. His fingers trembled as he picked up the painted death-doll and cradled it in his arms. Her hair must have turned white from the agony she endured from the accident and the death of her other children, judging by its color, or perhaps the gilding had faded over the years. His father must have left it here, unable to bury it with his own hands as custom prescribed.

He opened one of the saddlebags, wrapped the small statue in a shirt, and packed it. He had a right to mourn, though he'd never known her. Father should have buried this death-doll long ago, he thought. His mother's body was somewhere on this island, and it wasn't right for that ceremony to be neglected. It's like he wanted to forget she ever existed. Then again, if the Protector had been telling him the truth before giving him that poisoned meal, perhaps he'd loathed the reminder of those other Red Cups he'd been forced to drink in order to do his own Duty. Tameron couldn't blame him for that.

What would his life have been like if Lady Aliana had lived? When he dreamed of a mother's care, the only arms he felt around him were Esa's. She had been real, not just a bright painting or a cold little statue. He'd wept for his nursemaid when she died in a way he couldn’t for his real mother.

He couldn't find anything that looked like a door, even when he knocked on every wall. Tam panicked. He rummaged through the small bedroom off to one side, pulling aside hangings, and even tugging at the small shrine in one corner to see if it swung out if he toggled the right statue in it. He knelt before it in silent prayer. It was no use lying to himself now. The potion's effects weren't going away. Fear now gripped his vitals as well as pain. He gazed dull-eyed at the icons of the Lord and Lady. That's odd.  The Lady is missing one of her attendants... He looked again. Yes, there was clearly an empty spot where the slightly-raised base was outlined by dust.

Tam ran back, picked up the saddlebags, and took the pony with him into the bedroom, though Mujuk balked for a moment. He moved as quickly as he could, and nearly dropped the doll trying to pull it out in his terror that he was already too late. Even back here he could hear voices near the door, one of which was chanting a spell, probably to lower the wards.

It wouldn't take them long after that to defeat the lock. He must move quickly. He finally placed the small statue of his mother in the empty base. Nothing happened. Now they pounded on the door itself! They'd made it past the wards!

Tameron pulled his dagger out and left it in easy reach. If he was going to die, better that it be quick and clean. Stine would understand it, no matter what others thought.

Then he took the statue back out. What had he done wrong? Of course! The dust! He quickly cleaned it out, and replaced the statue of his mother as one of the Lady's attendants.

This time an outline of a door appeared in the wall, though Tam could have sworn nothing could possibly be there. He hastily put the saddlebags back onto the pony, though he'd have to re-cinch them later, and at the last moment removed the statue. His father had left him no Jewel that he knew of, but he could have this much of his mother.

The outline began to fade, but Tam pushed with all his might and it opened anyway. He stepped through and pulled the pony after him, and just in time, too, as the door suddenly disappeared and both of them were left in complete darkness.

It was immensely quiet. He closed his eyes and then opened them again, hoping that would help them adjust. He had remembered to pack the small light from his room, but didn’t want to take it out right now.

He still couldn't see a thing. Tam winced as the pain increased and made him nearly bend double. Maybe his dream had been right after all. I can't go back no matter what. I'll never have enough courage to refuse them again.

Tameron stepped forward into the darkness, and slid his feet ahead one step at a time to feel a way he could not see. Mujuk nickered slightly. He patted the pony's back for comfort--though who got the most out it, he couldn't say.

Then he became aware the tunnel had split into several different directions, if only from different air currents flowing into his face. He felt the eerie blackness in front of him more than he saw it. Which way should he go? Did it matter, as long as it was away from Fiallyn Mor?

He waited a moment before deciding. He'd rushed forward before, and had nearly been trapped because of it. Mother, if your spirit is still here, I beg of you to help me. I don't want to die, but I can't live with honor as a prisoner or their slave, he silently prayed.

There! It came from the left-hand side this time. Though he was underground, he heard the soft cry of an owl like the great white bird he'd seen soaring in the moonlight only a few nights before. Tam smiled as he moved towards the heartening sound.

He used one hand to guide himself along the wall, and led the pony with the other. This way felt as if it led downwards, and once he made it around one twisting turn, an amber glow began to filter up from the ground.

The light became brighter as Tameron kept walking down the gentle slope. Every step hurt him now. His whole torso ached miserably, making it hard to breathe.

Mujuk shied, obviously uncomfortable. He hated losing time, but took the trouble to dig the strip of cloth out of his cloak pocket he’d used before and retie it over the pony's eyes. "There you go," he said to the loyal beast. "Maybe I ought to do the same thing for myself!" But he was afraid that nothing he did would help what was really wrong with him.

Maybe I should have done what they wanted and then made a run for it. But it's too late now. At least if I die it wasn't me who hurt Kiliane.

He staggered forward, unwilling to give up as long as he could put one foot ahead of the other. At last the passage ended, emptying into a large chamber. He flung up his left arm over his eyes, nearly blinded by the brilliance of the light now flooding the entire room.

WHY ARE YOU HERE? boomed a deep voice. It sounded muffled, as if buried in layers of something. Earth, perhaps?

Tameron gratefully fell to his knees in awe as he was no longer able to stand. Father, why didn't you warn me this might happen? Were you so sure I'd obey you, or did you fear I would try to strike back if I knew? You said to put all the blame on you. Well, I do.

Then he raised his head to gaze into the light, letting it wash over him. It didn't hurt his eyes at all now, at least not compared to the pain he already felt. "I want to live," he gasped. He leaned against the pony for support. "Help me."

ALL MUST DIE. ALL MUST COME TO ME, AND THEN GO FORTH AGAIN.

"Not now!" Tam cried with the last of his strength. "Not like this..." It was like when he drank the poisoned cup in the Council Chamber in Kelemath, only this time nobody cared.

Stones began falling from the ceiling, small ones at first, then larger. Tameron groaned with effort as he forced himself to a standing position, and then arched his body over Mujuk to take the blows on his back.

The rain of debris stopped.

YOU WANT TO LIVE. WHY DON'T YOU HIDE UNDER THE BEAST YOU BROUGHT WITH YOU TO BEAR YOUR BURDENS?

He swayed on his feet, amazed he was still upright. "I led her here. It's my responsibility to protect her." He remembered Jarrett's words to him--You're more of a Protector than the one who sits in Kelemath... He ought to act like one.

The brightness faded. Tameron's mouth gaped open when he saw the Earth Spirit in his guise as Lord of the Wood, a tall, strong man all horned and clothed in fur. His green eyes glowed, and the morning light around him now was dappled as if it shone through trees. The Giant was more than stone, but stood for all that depended on the Element of Earth.

WHEN YOU CARE FOR MY CREATURES, I AM PLEASED. I SEE FROM THE BEAST'S MIND THAT YOU HAVE DONE MUCH FOR IT. TELL ME WHY YOU HAVE SUCH ROTTENNESS IN YOUR VEINS?

"That is why I must leave, or die here from it," Tam said, falling to his knees once more. He had to brace himself to keep from lying in the dirt.

The Forest Lord gazed at him keenly, as if seeing clear through him.

YOU HAVE WITHHELD THE SEED AFTER DRINKING THE POTION OF LIFE. WHY IS THAT?

For a moment Tameron didn't know what the Green Man meant, then bowed his head once he did. "It was wrong..." he said. "She didn't want me, she wanted someone else...it's supposed to matter, isn't it?" Then he stammered the whole story out. "It's the truth," he whispered, "whether you believe me or not."

THEN REST IN THIS EARTH AND BE HEALED. Suddenly the Lord of the Wood changed into a giant Tree, one that was shaped like a great-breasted woman with green hair. BEFORE THE MAGES CAME, ALL KNEW THAT I WAS MORE THAN MAN. BEHOLD ME IN A FORM NOT SEEN BY ANY BUT MY GUARDIAN!

The dirt in front of Tam also changed. It became dark and soft, as if it were spring already and ready for planting. He reached over to it, and found it warm to the touch. A trickle of strength flowed back into him.

MY POWER CANNOT WORK THROUGH YOUR COVERINGS. REMOVE THEM.

Tam took off his clothes, though he was so weak he almost wept in frustration because the simple task took so long. Then he laid down on the loamy ground face-first. Why, everything smelled like ripening fruit, mixed with the scent of sun-dried grain. Randor's farm, like the days just before harvest. I never got to stay to help, I always had to return to Kelemath, but oh, how I loved it there! He sank gratefully onto the soft bed the Element of Earth had made for him. If I must die, let it be here, he thought as consciousness began to fade, the one place where I was always happy...

At first he was plagued with nightmares. He saw Kiliane, at last covered by a quilt, and smiling in her sleep as his father gazed down at her. The Protector's face was gray and drawn with exhaustion--but his lips curled upwards in triumph.

Then Tam watched Stine report to the Guardian. The commander's face was as hard as ice, but her features crumpled into despair as his aunt apparently explained the consequences of this failure. Then the old soldier's face changed again into resolute anger. Tameron had seen that expression once or twice, and it always boded ill for the future of anyone involved. The scene blurred again, and changed to one where Stine, looking much older, stood out in the countryside somewhere and held an arrow with white fletching in her hand. Instead of throwing it down to the ground, as she had the time Tam accompanied her and the other guards hunting bandits, she tossed it up and down in her hand a couple of times, then stuck it in her belt as she walked alone away from a road into a thick band of trees.

He shuddered in his restless sleep. I never meant to cause such trouble... Yet another disturbing vision came to him. Kiliane sat in Council, an infant in her lap, in a chair close to the Protector. But when she thought Lord Sidian wasn't looking, she quickly smiled at Mauric, who was sitting once more in the section given to the Sandega clan.

I must go back, if only to keep this evil from happening...

Then he saw Dever Tower. It was night-time, and lights shone in the windows as they had not since he could remember. He flew inside one of them into the surprisingly bare room as if he were a bird despite the heavy glass that should have stopped him. Then he noticed the still figure lying on a bed. Why, it's me! Only, ‘his’ face was slack and foolish, while his open eyes held nothing. Nothing at all. A servant came in with food and drink, but was ignored. The fellow began cutting the meat--apparently his future self was not trusted with anything sharp, or was too incapable to help himself. Then the servant lifted his body into a sitting position and began feeding him.

Suddenly, the empty eyes filled with intensity, and the prisoner knocked the man aside, seized the knife so carelessly left on the table, and smiled in joy as he thrust the blade into his chest. The servant gaped in shock as the body fell to the floor.

No, no, this can't be! Perhaps it's too late anyway. I give up, Earth Spirit. Do with me what you will.

WHAT DO YOU WANT? he heard in return. MY LIMBS HOLD MANY BRANCHES. PICK THE ONE YOU CHOOSE.

I want someone to love me. I want someone to love me as much as I loved Marysa. Is that too much to ask?

He suddenly breathed in the scent of geran, a healing herb that Esa had often used when he'd been ill as a child. Once more the scene before him changed.

He found himself on a high balcony covered with thin mesh cloth stretched on fretwork. Tam easily saw the sky above him through it. The air was warm and moist, with an odd smell like the taste of moon-salt. He listened to the cry of the gulls, like the ones who lived near Kelemath on the huge lake next to the city. He glanced upwards. The Lady was full, and only halfway up the horizon, while the glow of day still lingered in the west.

Tameron looked back when he heard a small sound. A tall young woman, with flowing red hair and a ripe figure her long white night-rail could not hide, walked eagerly towards him. "I've waited so long for this," she sighed, and embraced him. She wore a red ring on one of her fingers. He noticed its mate on one of his.

Her creamy pale skin, blessed with many sun kisses like pale gold in the light, enveloped his own. Her eyes gleamed with the green light of sunshine through the leaves of the World-Tree. He kissed her with joy, not caring if this were a dream or not. Marysa had told him he deserved someone who would come to him as eagerly as she had run to Jarrett.

The red-haired woman took his hand and led him back inside. The bed's thin covers were turned back already. Waiting for them. She took off her gown, while he trembled with desire at the sight of her lush body. He soon wore nothing as well, and then they were in the bed together. He gloried in the feel of her hair and skin next to his, and willingly gave in to his body's demands. How wonderful to love without hesitation, guilt, or worry that he wasn't good enough! Tam plunged into the fire several times, and learned how to draw her there as well. At last they were both too weary to do any more than lie in each other's arms.

The darkness that overcame him there was welcome, and without fear. Tameron drowsed and only slowly woke up, as if he were back on Randor's farm and no chores awaited him that day. "Elian..." he murmured, without knowing why.

Tam opened his eyes. He felt tired, but at peace, as he had some mornings when he'd spent the night dreaming of love without nightmares. The shadow of horror was gone now, and so was the pain. The ground was hard and dry beneath him, but he felt whole once more. Even the bruises on his feet were gone.

How long had he slept? Mujuk looked much the same, though someone had taken off her saddlebags. He checked her grain-bag, and it looked like the same amount he remembered. There was a song about a woman seeking Arial up on Mt. Shiast who had come down to find all her family dead and gone, and a hundred years gone past. Too bad it didn't happen that way for me, he thought. That would certainly solve a lot of his problems!

He dressed and fed Mujuk. Oh, how wonderful he felt! Judging by how frisky the pony seemed, the Lord of the Wood had done much for her, too. Tameron put the saddlebags back on, this time padding the straps with some of his old clothes.

Only then did he notice that the dim light that came from the ground showed him that this chamber had no exit, except back to the tunnel he'd come in through.

I can't go back. Even if only part of what I saw was true. I don't want to become a body waiting only for death. And that girl isn't in Fiallyn Mor. I have had enough of being a piece on a board moved by someone else's dice. It's time I find my own game.

He placed his hand on the earthen wall in front of him. It was as hard as rock. His dagger barely made a dent in it, so he got out his sword to see if he could break up the surface. Tam chipped away at it till he was nearly blinded by his own sweat.

Mujuk nuzzled him, as if asking what was wrong. "You're right, this isn't working," he said to the pony. But he'd rather die right here than go back. He thought of the little book of spells in his cloak pocket, and how a mage changed hard dirt to mud. Here in the Giant's own sanctuary, even he might be able to make it work.

He shook his head. No. I don't have magic. Anything I've seen here is because of what the Giant did, not me. I'm an ordinary person. But because he was an ordinary person, he knew a song that no mage was ever supposed to hear. He couldn't believe that the Elements cared only for mages, despite all he'd been taught.

Tam leaned his head against the barrier, hoping against hope the Giant might hear him. "The wall is high," he sang. "I cannot cross over...nor have I...any wings to fly...I'll build a bridge...wide enough for two...my love and I, to walk side by side..."

He almost fell over as the stony surface crumbled into dust.

THIS WAY IS FOR THE TRULY DESPERATE, said the voice of the Giant one last time. YOU HAVE PASSED THE LAST TEST. GO FREE. BUT REMEMBER YOUR PROMISE.

"What promise?" he asked.

THE ONE YOU MADE TO THE DRAGONS AND TO YOUR FRIEND. SOMEDAY YOU MUST RETURN.

He bowed his head in submission, but thought, Not for a long time if I have anything to say about it!

Then he heard a soft, low-voiced chuckle, along with the words in an old woman's voice, Run, boy, run--for now. There was something he'd seen once, and couldn't quite remember. He suddenly shuddered with fear as his mind played tricks on him. For some reason a rock formation ahead turned into the outline of a skeleton seated on a throne, a skeleton wearing a crown in the shape of a dragon. But as he stepped forward, it turned out to be an illusion, though the pony shied when she passed the spot. Tameron looked back for just a moment. As he watched, the dirt wall began to reform until it looked as if no opening had ever been there, though the light of the room beyond it still shone through.

The light faded as he and the pony walked away, and they were forced to travel in the dark. This time he stopped and pulled out the small light from his room. He didn’t know how long it would last away from the magic of Fiallyn Mor, but it was his best hope.

Tam soon lost track of how long he and Mujuk were on this journey. He was glad to come across water every once in a while, though it usually fell in a trickle. It felt good to be on his way with little chance of pursuit. Stine would have to convince the Giant that she needed to get through to retrieve him--and then to open the way back again. Only the Guardian might pass, and surely his aunt had enough on her hands already. With any luck, Lorin was still free. I hope he makes it all the way to Warding, and not just to throw off pursuit. He deserves better than to starve up in the hills with the dragons.

He followed a routine of walking, gathering plants from the walls, and resting whenever he found water. The air was cool, but fresh, especially once the path began climbing. Whenever he stopped, he made sure that Mujuk had first pick of any plants he’d picked, and then tried what was left over. He made his own rations stretch as far as he could. Fortunately his helmet made an excellent water-bucket for the pony, even though it often felt like it took forever to fill. Any plants that Mujuk wouldn't eat and he couldn't were set aside to dry while he slept. Then he'd twist them into an impromptu torch to give him a little light for part of his journey each day.

He made sure to sleep as much as he could. Stine had once told them that when rations were short, one could make do with extra sleep. He remembered putting it into practice during those starving weeks in Dorena's cabin, though without knowing why.

At first, he rehearsed all his grievances. Tam was still angry at the way his father had tried to force him into giving Kiliane a child. Why didn't he tell me what the Red Cup would do if I refused? Maybe he thought I would believe he was lying to me, just to get me to do what he wanted. Or maybe my dream was right, and he didn't believe I could resist.

Then his rations were gone, and only the pony's grain was left. He didn't touch it. Mujuk's load was far heavier than his, especially since she now carried his sword as well as the rest.

It didn't matter. This way out of the Wall was better than the others. He didn't have to fight freezing cold by climbing Mt. Shiast, risk death by fire by leaping into the flames of Diesa Tower, or sink to the bottom of the Anchor Pool at Warding.

The tunnel grew drier, and water became harder to find. Tameron filled himself up as much as he could, and made sure Mujuk had all she wanted, too, before moving on from each spring. He became resigned to this journey. After a while, he lost interest in going over how badly he'd been used. He was done with it now. None of his family could hurt him again.

Then the grain ran out. The plants on the wall became thinner and drier, and the pony became weaker. Tam heard rustling noises from time to time, and wished he had the means to set a trap for the small animals that made them. Once when he took some plants from the wall that he recognized by their feel and smell weren't too bad, he accidentally devoured a small insect trapped with it. His stomach pronounced it excellent, and he regretted not finding more.

He became worried one morning. Mujuk was reluctant to rise this particular 'day', as well as thinner. He went through the saddlebags and decided the armor was just too much for the poor beast to carry. Tam kept the helmet and the breastplate, but abandoned the rest. The shirts didn't weigh much, except for one of his old fancy beaded ones. He chucked that one aside, though with some regret. After a moment's thought, he retrieved it and removed as many of the beads as he could by touch. They might be worth something if he made it out of this tunnel. 

Then he stood up and almost staggered from the weight of the helmet and breastplate, which he now wore. Mujuk was much more eager, despite her thin rations, with just the saddlebags and the full waterskins on her. For a brief moment he wondered if he was going to be forced to butcher the pony for his own survival. "I can't," he said. "Not after what the Lord of the Wood said." Yet he'd eaten meat before and would again. What was the right thing to do?

"I have to keep going," he murmured to himself. It seemed each way out of the Wall required the virtues of its Element. Mt. Shiast, for instance, was ruled by Air. The stories about it always told about someone telling a story or singing a song to get what they wished. Diesa Tower required fiery courage to face the Salamander, while the Anchor Pool demanded total acceptance and willingness to yield to the Shapechanger. The way of Earth clearly required persistence and the strength not to yield.

Despite weariness from the extra burden today, Tameron was almost happy as he walked along. Maybe I really will find someone like the girl I saw in part of my dream, he thought. With Marysa he'd seen passive acceptance in her eyes. With Kiliane he'd seen both pity and anger. Maybe someday--maybe someday he'd see love.

Resignation gave way to a strange giddiness as he lurched along. He even imagined he saw a gentle glow of light ahead, but knew it was another illusion when it faded into darkness as he plodded along. I'm probably just dizzy from hunger, he thought, but he couldn't help smiling to himself anyway.

The rustling noises became louder as he and the pony kept walking. He wanted to stop, but hadn't found any water yet.

Tam knew something was wrong the moment Mujuk pulled backwards with a whinny. He almost fell on his rear, but let go of the leading-rein just in time. Then he gagged on the rotten smell of whatever lay ahead.

A large, rat-like beast charged, its beady red eyes gleaming. Tameron drew his sword and struck, but missed. The thing was as high as his knee, fast and wary, and dodged between his legs trying to get at Mujuk. If I only I could see better! The last couple of 'days', his eyes had adjusted so well to the tunnel that he could find his way without a torch, but it was much too dark now. The bedroom light had failed days ago.

Mujuk reared and neatly smashed the large rat's skull in with one of her hooves as she came down again. Tam breathed a sigh of relief after making sure of the beast with one stab of his sword. He considered butchering it for meat, but was afraid it was rabid.

He picked the rein back up and began walking forward with renewed strength. Mujuk trotted along eagerly.

Tameron stepped along even faster when he heard another squeak. Then another.

He shouted in fear and anger when the tunnel swarmed with the beasts. Mujuk was terrified, and nearly broke free of the rein again. Then he had an idea. He placed the pony in front of him, and smacked her on the rump. With any luck she could scent the path better than he could see it, and as loud as she was, would be easy for him to follow.

It was hard to fight and run at the same time, but he couldn't let Mujuk get too far ahead--not just for his sake, but for hers. Who knew what else might be in this tunnel? The pony was helping--some of the rats Tam came across were already dead--but there were so many of them! Where were they all coming from?

What were they so afraid of?

He skewered some of the rats, and flung the bodies at the rest. Even that didn't slow them down.

Then Mujuk screamed. Tameron ignored the rats and caught up to her.

The beast, like a rat in shape, was nearly the size of his pony, but with a lot more teeth. The monster took advantage of Tam's distraction to rush forward. Mujuk backed into her master, and he barely caught himself on the stony side of the tunnel before he was knocked all the way to the ground.

As soon as the pony fled past him, Tameron stood, flung up the point of his sword, and held it steady as the beast attacked the fleeing pack-pony. Just as he was certain his blade was going to pierce the giant rat right between its eyes, the beast twisted away and lunged towards his leg. As he tried to beat it away he slipped and fell on his back. The giant rat decided to go for his throat instead.

He screamed in rage as he felt his sword fall from his grasp. The beast tried to gnaw at his chest, but met the steel of the breastplate instead. Tam reached for his dagger and thrust upwards. The monster clawed him, and left streaks of pain where the armor didn't cover him, but at last the thing finally lay still on top of him.

Tam sobbed with relief when he was sure the giant rat was dead. The weight of the body nearly crushed him, but somehow managed to get out from under it. Mujuk stood nearby, but shied a bit as he approached. I must smell just like the monster now, he thought wearily.

Tameron sat down and drank the last few swallows of water. He felt better after that. Then he realized he had to find his sword. The flint was still in the pouch on his belt, though it was soaked with blood. But what to light? His shirt, at least the part of it the breastplate didn't cover, was damp.

Then something clattered. He followed the sound to where the pony stood, and nearly tripped over his own blade. Tam groped for it between Mujuk's hooves and almost cut his own hand on the edge before he found the hilt.

I'll have to clean the sword and the dagger later. Which way do I go now? Then he remembered that Mujuk was behind him when the beast had attacked. He gritted his teeth, grasped the leading-rein, and stumbled towards the corpse.

Naturally the pony wanted nothing to do with the monster, dead or not. "Mujuk," he said, "we have to go this way to get out. I don't know any other way. We're out of water, and we have to find more. And if we don't get leave the tunnel, we'll both starve to death."

She balked. Tameron sighed. I don't want to carve you up for dinner, Mujuk. There has to be a better way.

Then it came to him. Why not cut them both a path? He'd have to spend two weeks putting a new edge on his sword, but it'd be worth it to live that long.

Tam stepped on the end of the lead-rein so Mujuk wouldn't stray, then drew his blade and hacked away at the monster till it was possible to clear a narrow path. One loose claw sprung up in the air and landed at his feet, which he picked up and shoved into a cloak pocket for a reminder of how lucky he'd been. At last he was done. Tam wiped the sword on the beast's skin, and sheathed it.

Then he picked up the rope. Mujuk still wouldn't move. At last he opened up the saddlebag and tied a cloth around her eyes again. "I don't know what you can see in here, Mujuk, but now you won't have to look at it any more," he said soothingly as he began leading her forward. "You'll just have to trust me, the way you have before..."

She grudgingly took a few steps, and stopped again. Tameron pulled hard this time. "Just a little bit more, and we'll get away from here," he said.

At last they were past the remains of the beast's body. Mujuk calmed down long enough for him to remove the cloth around her eyes.

They both needed a rest, and he sat down. The pony's sides were heaving and so were his. Then something cold hit his hand as he was sitting down. If water was coming from the roof of the tunnel, he might be able to find a spring nearby to fill the waterskins. He glanced up.

He laughed out loud when he saw pale flakes coming down against a black sky. They must have gone for fifty paces along the dark, rocky path and not even known they were finally out!

I have to find shelter. I feel like an idiot. Look at all those trees around me. He got back up on his feet. Mujuk had already found a place where old snow had gotten pushed aside and she'd begun to graze.

Tameron spotted light in the distance. He left Mujuk's rope looped around a tree-branch and walked quietly towards the camp-fire. He might still be in Fiallyn Mor. The land looked more gentle and rolling than around Lochil, but if he had gone south, he might be near Warding. For all he knew, that could be Lorin out there!

As he drew near he saw the fire. One old man sat next to it. Well, at least it's not Stine. If this was a trap, I'd be her prisoner already.

Even if he was still inside the Wall, one soldier couldn't stop him from escaping to the hills. If I end up joining the dragons, I'll do my best to avoid an early, glorious death. Can you win a war by outliving the right people?

He kept watching the old man at the fire. Mages rarely bothered with battle-axes like the one placed near the fire. Nor did they usually carry a crossbow like the one sitting on top of a pack. Tam leaned forward. Was it just wishful thinking, or did the arrows in the quiver near the bow have white feathers at their ends? Probably just my imagination, he thought.

Then he smelled something roasting over the fire, and saliva filled his mouth. I have to eat! He went back for Mujuk, and deliberately made noise as he approached the fire.

The old man leaped to his feet and seized the axe. Tameron didn't blame the fellow as he suddenly realized what a sight he must be, all spattered with blood from the giant rat, and probably smelling worse than the inside of his boots.

He walked forward with empty hands anyway, confident by now that he was safe. Any of his father's soldiers would have identified him and called him by name, no matter what a mess he was. "I'm lost," he said. "Do you know where I am?"

The man shook his head and spoke. In a different language.

He wanted to shout with joy as he recognized a couple of words. Jarrett was right! People on the Outside do sound like frogs! He smiled, and made the sign of peace that Mauric had taught him.

The other man lowered his axe, and made the sign back.

Tameron said, "I wish I knew what you meant." Then he pointed to himself. "Tam." He hoped it was a common name here, or he might have to change it. Oh, if he only knew how to express the joy he felt! He'd really made it!

The old warrior, nearly Randor's age by his looks, shrugged his shoulders, pointed to his own chest, and said, "Hauk. Hauk Daroth." Then he sat down and gestured towards a spot on the ground near the fire.

Tam bowed to him, pulled Mujuk forward, and sat. Even if this man was a thief, he was safer here than at home. "Thank you, Hauk," he said, and hoped the older man would someday understand him. He forced himself to breathe deeply as hope and excitement surged through him. He almost couldn't believe it was true.

He was free.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE WALL

(traditional song of the ordinary people of Fiallyn Mor)

 

The Wall is high, I cannot cross o'er;

Nor have I any wings to fly,

I'll build a bridge

Wide enough for two--

My love and I, to the other side.

 

I have no fire within my hands,

Only embers in my heart.

They'll burn a blaze for passion's bands,

And keep us warm, to never part.

 

(Chorus)

 

No wind will blow, at my command.

Only words of kindness true,

To weave a web of song's caress,

A magic spell--of love for you.

 

(Chorus)

 

The water leaps, but not for me.

The waves are still upon the lake.

But hearts will dance, and bodies, too,

As we plight troth, our pledge to make.

 

(Chorus)

 

No earth will quake, when I demand.

Not even mud will part its way...

Yet you and I, will reach its heart,

Love hand in hand, on our last day.

 

Someday we'll soar...beyond the clouds.

No Wall will keep us from the sky.

No mage will have, more power than

Our loving dreams, so far and high.

 

(Chorus)