“You know...” Angie said. She had his arm linked in hers and held tightly to her. “... when we first decided to stay here, in those early days, I just wanted you to survive in this fourteenth-century world. Every time you went, I was afraid I might never see you again. I felt guilty about wanting to stay here myself-“

“You shouldn’t have,” said Jim. “I wanted to stay-badly. It was like a kid stepping into Toyland-the real Toyland-the people and everything about it.”

“But if I’d said I didn’t want to stay, you’d have at least stopped to think it over first. Anyway... the point is, after a while, I saw how well you were able to take care of yourself here; in spite of not being raised to weapons from the cradle the way Brian’s been. I began to stop being afraid so much. But as that fear went, another one came. You haven’t started to like it too much here, have you? These adventures, I mean; you haven’t come to like the fighting and the killing?”

Jim stopped abruptly. They turned to face each other.

“No!” he said. “How could I, coming from where and when we were? And how could I change now, after all those years? I suppose I could; but I don’t want to. No, what I have come to do is accept it... like the rain and the winter cold-and the people. The good ones, I mean.”

Angie squeezed his arm.

“I love you so much,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d changed. I wouldn’t want you to.”

“And I love you!” he said. “We’re lucky, that’s all. Every so often two people win the lottery together. We did.”

“Yes,” said Angie. They walked on, side by side.

“No “ said Jim, after a little silence, “what I liked from the start-what made me want to stay so much I’d risk doing without dentists and modern medicines and all that-is the unbelievable will to live of these people. They try to make a good life out of it, under conditions where the chance of being killed is something you have to face without warning at any time-and often nothing you can do about it. It’s just the way things are.”

“I know what you mean,” said Angie, watching her feet kick a thicker-than-usual pile of leaves out of their way.

“Now that I’ve recognized it,” said Jim, “I realize that the same thing was there-plenty of it-in our native world and time; but born and brought up where we were, we could be blind to it in other places. If we’d gone back-but we didn’t; and I’m still glad we didn’t. A chance like this... well, it doesn’t come to people. Anyway, we’re here now with no way back, even if the situation here includes magic and things like the Dark Powers.”

“Yes,” said Angie. She reached out to catch a falling leaf that was twirling down at an angle toward her from one of the forest giants. She studied it for a few seconds, then passed it to Jim with a sudden smile.

“From me to you,” she said, “good magic. Keep it safe, use it well.”

Jim took it carefully, suddenly deeply moved.

“Angie!” he said. The leaf was completely yellow, but just beginning to turn dry and fragile. He held it cautiously in his hand.

“Thank you,” he told her. From the moment she had smiled and handed it to him, he had been watching her closely. “You’re worried about me now, and this thing with Dafydd.”

Carolinus grew up in this world. He knows what the risks are-I’m sorry, Jim. Lets not talk about it. I know now you can take care of yourself. I’ve known that for a long time; and you were magnificent in the Hall yesterday, when the Dark Powers came.”

Magnificent was the last word Jim would have chosen to describe himself. I was mad, Angie, that’s all. Mad clear through! If They’d just been something I could get my hands on-“ Look at your hands now.”

He looked. They had curled into fists, and his forearms had raised to waist level parallel to the ground.

“If you could see yourself now,” said Angie. She put her own hand on one of his tense forearms. “Jim, don’t look like that.”

He made his arms, his body, and his jaw muscles go through the motions of relaxing. By some miracle the leaf in his gasp had not been crushed. He reached down, pulled apart the opening of his purse-the small bag holding his coins and keys-and put the leaf reverently into it, then pulled the drawstrings tight again.

“There,” he said. “I’ll keep it with me; and your leaf’ll keep me sensible. It was just They came into our home, our castle-and I’d never thought it could be violated like that! I’d felt we were safe there.”

“So did I,” Angie said. “I never will again.”

“I’ll fix it so you are!” said Jim. “Angie, it’s me They were after. Once I’m off with Dafydd, They won’t be back here. And I can handle them.”

“You’re so sure?”

“Yes! I know I’m beginning to get a grip, in my own way, about the magic-or Magick, whatever you want to call it-here. It’s simple, basic. If certain things are possible, then there’re other things that can’t be. The Dark Powers are powerful in the sense of owning a lot of magical energy-but They’re limited in what They can do with it. We humans aren’t limited.”

“Are you sure you aren’t talking yourself into something?”

“No. All Their powers-like the Naturals, there has to be a limit on Them. They can’t move a single piece of straw by Themselves. The best They can do is work on some solid living thing to move it for them. Human magicians like me can use power to move things-admittedly the same thing applies to us. We’re limited, too. Our magic won’t cure sickness, though wounds, particularly battle wounds, we can heal. But on the other hand, we can use medicines, if we can find ones that’ll work, to cure sickness. And any one of us can also pick up and move whole stacks of straw with everyday muscle... We work in both areas.”

“Why do all the Dark Powers and Demons and such seem more powerful than we do, then?”

“Because magic seems to be made out of a raw energy-that energy I mentioned. It isn’t how much raw material you’ve got, it’s how you can use it.” He paused for a moment.

“Put it like this,” he went on, “I’m going to be completely protected against attack, thanks to KinetetE, and I can attack Them because I can outthink Them. I don’t think They’ve got anything more in the way of brains than some very primitive form of animal life.”

He stopped speaking. It had been a pretty good statement on his part, he was thinking-and then, with the sensitivity of a well-trained husband (though he and Angie had only been married since they had come to this medieval world), suddenly he was sure it had been nothing of the sort, as far as convincing Angie had gone.

“Look,” he added hastily, before she could say anything, “we humans actually have only a small scrap of the energy from which magic can be made here. The Kingdoms, like that of the King and Queen of the Dead, and Lyonesse itself, are full of it. Big devils like the Demon Ahriman have huge chunks by themselves.” Angie frowned.

“I think,” Jim continued hastily, “humans here started out with none at all, but have simply earned a small corner of it. I got my first chunk just by coming here to find you, out of our own world. Then I got a much larger chunk-but the Dark Powers would hardly notice it compared to Theirs-by winning the fight at the Loathly Tower. I’ve won against Them each time I’ve been up against Them, in a sense getting richer and gaining experience at the same time. But it’s just lately I’m beginning to figure out how the whole thing works. My advantage is, you and I come from a time where we grew up feeling there had to be a reason, a pattern for everything that happened. Most people in this time don’t think that way-so it gives me an edge.”

He stopped talking again. He was not improving matters between Angie and himself. He gave up and prepared to listen.

“Tell me all the truth, then,” said Angie; but she spoke gently. “What are you really up against? The dangers, everything. Magic for one thing, of course.”

The beginning cheerfulness that had been lurking behind Jim’s words went away.

“In all truth, then, Angie,” he said, “there’s the so-called Old Magic of Lyonesse. I don’t know much about it, but it seems to be somehow different from the Magic we’ve seen used. I think it works to help the Knights there, but I don’t know if it’d be any help to me.

“But other than that I’m really not afraid to match magic with anyone-no, scrub that. What I mean is, I’m not afraid to match what magic I have, along with all I know from being born six hundred years later, against any other magic on this world. Every time I’ve been faced with that sort of thing so far I’ve always won. I haven’t got it all sorted into words yet; but I’ve got an edge, something no one else has.”

“An edge,” said Angie.

All right-an edge only, not a guarantee. But it’s like anything else. Since I’ve been using it, I’ve gotten better at using what I have and the magic together. Trust me, Angie.”

“No, said Jim soberly. “I won only because I was in Gorbash’s dragon body. But I didn’t know about magic, then.”

“You did when we faced Ahriman; and it was only the magic in your staff that helped you win against that Demon.”

“Not quite. It was that and the rest of you making a human chain with me to herd him back into the Kingdom of Devils and Demons. But that-“

“Was different, too. I know,” she said. “All right, let’s talk about this business of how you might get caught in Lyonesse and I’d never see you again?”

“Oh, that-“ said Jim. “You mean what Dafydd told us the people of Drowned Land warned him about?”

“Yes, that.”

“We’re supposed to have warning before anything happens in any case, you know. I told you all about that. As long as the whole land and everything in it looks black and white, or silver, in color, there’s no danger at all. It’s only if you stay long enough to start seeing things in their ordinary colors that you’re trapped and can never leave.”

“And by that time it’s too late. You can’t leave.”

“We’re supposed to see it changing in time. Anything less than black-and-white... I’ll have to keep my eyes open, that’s all.”

“You ought to be able to do better than that,” Angie said. She reached out to catch another autumn leaf that was swirling down toward the ground; and studied it for a few seconds before dropping it. “Where’s that future knowledge of yours? You need a warning device... let’s see-I’ve got it! Glasses! Glasses to warn you when the change starts so you can leave immediately!”

“Glasses?” said Jim, staring at her. “Pretty strange I’d look in Arthurian times, or even here, going around with glasses on my nose. What good would glasses do me, anyway?”

“I don’t think so,” said Jim. “In fact, I know I’m way ahead of most C+ -class Apprentices-with all I’ve been mixed up in. None of them usually get the chance at things like Carolinus has let me run into on my own. I’d have asked him about rating me B-class before this, if he hadn’t been so worn out and frail from what he went through in the Gnarly Kingdom.”

“Then make the glasses.”

“I can’t just do it like that-right now,” he said. “I have to work up a concept of what I want before I can make the actual thing. I have to think of ways of going about it.”

Most wolf language was body language; unless, like Aargh, the wolf could speak like a human-maybe it was not uncommon for them. Jim had met at least one other wolf who talked human-style. But the body language was still theirs. Aargh would have read Jim’s body-remembered, absolute fury toward the invader of his home,

“The Dark Powers,” Jim said.

“It will do no good to get your hackles up now,” said Aargh. “Wait for the time when you can bite back.”

“They came right into Malencontri!”

No need to tell me,” said Aargh. “I knew it. The deer know it, the birds know it the forest knows it; and so I know it. Well, you can deal with it yourself this time. It’s nothing to do with me.”

“I didn’t ask you for help,” said Jim. You might have, as soon as you found me.” There was enough past evidence to warrant this assumption on Aargh’s part. But the great wolf always had to pretend he cared for no one, rescued nobody. Jim was silent for a second, trying to think of a crushing answer. None came to mind, “They’re threatening the Drowned Land-but you probably don’t know-“

“I know,” said Aargh. “I know all places I can go. I know it also threatens Lyonesse.”

“Put it this way, then,” said Jim. “You wouldn’t care, of course, if the whole world including your territory here in Somerset, dissolved into Chaos?” “It isn’t going to. What you two-legs consider your world might do that; but for the rest of us, we’ll hardly know it happened. For us, the earth is important, the sky, the wind, the trees as we have always had them. Your Dark Powers can’t touch those. If They could, we would all fight Them. Not otherwise.”

“What makes you so sure?” said Jim.

“Why doesn’t what you call your magick work on me, or others you call an animal-it only works on two-legs and Naturals?”

Jim felt like a chess player who had just had the bishop he was counting on to gain him checkmate with the next move captured and swept away by a completely overlooked knight.

“Why not?” asked Angie.

Jim would have found that a challenge to answer. Aargh did not.

“Chaos is not an emptiness. It is everything moved out of place and connection with what was before. None of what humans call magick could move us and our world; and the kind of enemies who would bring on Chaos have only magick to work with, to move us-they cannot touch us.”

“Hm,” said Jim.

“However, if I am needed at Malencontri while you are gone,” said Aargh, “Angie can set out the signal for me in the woods, the usual way.”

He turned, fawned upon her for a brief moment, moved around her, and was gone.

Jim gazed into the trees in the direction where the wolf had vanished. Aargh must have been shadowing them silently and listening for longer than they had thought.

“I wonder if I made a mess of that,” he said to himself, but aloud.

“You were fine,” said Angie, slipping her arm through his. “Come on, let’s look at the cattails down at the lake. There’s still part of a beautiful day left, and the cold weather’ll be here before you’re home again. Let’s roam a bit more and enjoy our lands in this best of fall weather, before we have to go back inside.”