"Aren't these Duke Conrad's lands? I'd have thought he'd have put a stop to banditry."

"So he might, if he were here. He hasn't even come to the king's feast and celebration! The Eagle sent to his fortress at Bederbor said he wasn't in residence. No one knows where he's gone!"

What was Conrad up to? No doubt the duke was capable of almost anything.

But he could hardly ask this lad that kind of question. They came to a stream and slowed for their mounts to pick their way across. Where a beech tree swept low over pooling water, he let Resuelto drink while he waited for his mother.

Although she had the pony for a mount, she refused to ride. Still, she caught up quickly enough; she was the strongest walker he'd ever met. The goat balked at the water's edge, and his mother dragged it across the rocky shallows impatiently. She had formidable arms, tightly muscled. With the sleeves of Liath's tunic rolled up, the tattooed red snake that ran from the back of her hands up her arms seemed to stretch and shudder as she hauled the goat up the far bank.

Matto stared at her. Sanglant couldn't tel if the boy had been afflicted with the infatuation that strikes youth as suddenly as lightning, or if he had suddenly realized how truly strange she was.

"What's your name?" Matto blurted suddenly.

She looked up at him, and he blanched and stammered an apology, although it wasn't clear what he was apologizing for. Her reply was cool and clear.” You will call me 'Alia.'"

Sanglant laughed curtly before reining Resuelto around and starting down the road again. 'Alia' meant 'other' in Dariyan.

Alia walked up beside him. The goat had decided to cooperate and now followed meekly behind the pony, with Matto bringing up the rear.” Why are you not telling those soldiers who you are," she asked in a low voice, her accent heavy and her words a little halting, "and demanding a full escort and the honor you deserve?"

"Since they don't know me, they would never believe I am a prince of the realm.

In truth, without a retinue, I'm not really a nobleman at all, am I? Just a landless and kinless wanderer, come to petition the king." He hadn't realized how bitter he was, nor did he know who he was angriest at: fate, his father, or the woman walking beside him who had abandoned him years ago. Blessing stirred on his back and cooed, babbling meaningless syllables, attuned to his tone.”

Hush, sweetheart," he murmured. Resuelto snorted.

"Look!" cried Matto. The road was wide enough that he trotted past them easily.

He had a hand at his belt, where hung a knife, a leather pouch, and a small polished ram's horn.

Up ahead where the ground dipped into a shrubby hollow, the stream looped back and crossed the road again. In the middle of the ford stood a hag, bent over a staff. Strips of shredded cloth concealed her head and shoulders. The ragged ends of her threadbare robe floated in the current, wrapping around her calves.

"A coin or crust of bread for an old woman whose husband and son fight in the east with Her Royal Highness Princess Sapientia?" she croaked.

Matto had already begun to dismount, fumbling at the pouch he wore at his belt. Perhaps he was a kindhearted lad, or perhaps he was only eager to impress Alia.

But despite its high-pitched tone, the hag's voice was certainly not that of a woman. This was one thing in which Sanglant considered himself an expert. He reined in. A moment later, from the dense thicket that grew up from the opposite bank, he heard rustling.

The arrow hit Sanglant in the shoulder, rocking him-back. The point embedded in his chain mail just as a second arrow followed the first from a shadowed thicket. He jerked sideways as Jerna uncoiled and with her aery being blew the arrow off course. It fluttered harmlessly into the branches of a tree.

Alia already had her bow free and an arrow notched. She hissed, then shot, and there came a yelp of pain from the thicket.

The hag hooked Matto's leg and dumped the youth backward into the water.

The quick motion revealed the burly shoulders of a man hidden beneath the rags. With a loud cry, the robber brought the staff down on Matto's unprotected head and pummeled him. The boy could only cower with arms raised to fend off blows.

More arrows flew. Jerna became wind, and two arrows stopped dead in midair before Resuelto's neck even as Sanglant spurred the gelding forward. The horse went eagerly into battle. He knew what to expect and, like his master, had been trained for this life. Leaping the brook, Sanglant struck to his left, severing the hand of the first bandit before the man could let another blow fall on Matto.

Alia's second arrow took the "hag" in the back as he turned to run.

Men screamed the alert from their hiding place, but Sanglant had already plunged forward into the thicket, crashing through the foliage into a clear hollow where a knot of men, armed variously with staves, knives, an ax, and a single bow, stood ready. Easily his sword cleaved through branch, haft, and flesh. The bowman drew for a final shot as Sanglant closed on him.

Jerna leaped forward as on a gust. The arrow rocked sideways just as the bowman let it fly. The bow, too, spun from the bandit's grasp, and he grabbed for it frantically, caught the arrow point on his foot, and stumbled backward into a thick growth of sedge and fern.

Was that a voice, thin and weak, crying for mercy? Surely it was only the whine of a gnat. Sanglant brought his sword down, and the man fell, his skull split like a melon.

From the road he heard another shriek of pain, followed by a frantic rustling, growing ever more distant, that told of one nay, two survivors who would be running for some time.

A horn blatted weakly, nearby, and after a pause sounded again with more strength.

Blessing whimpered. Her voice brought him crashing back to himself. Amazed, he stared at the corpses: six men as ragged as paupers and as poorly armed as common laborers in want of a hire. He hadn't realized there were so many. He hadn't thought at all, just killed. One man still thrashed and moaned, but his wound was deep, having been cut through shoulder and lung, and blood bubbled up on his lips. After dismounting, Sanglant mercifully cut his throat.

Matto hobbled through the gap in the thicket made by Resuelto's passage and staggered to a stop, staring.” By our Lord!" he swore. The horn dangled from its strap around one wrist.

"Your arm is broken," said Sanglant. He left the corpses and led Resuelto out to the road. The pony stood with legs splayed to resist the tugging of the tethered goat, who was trying to get to water. Alia had vanished. He heard her whistling tunelessly and saw the flash of her movement on the other side of the road, where another group of the bandits had been hiding behind a shield of slender beech trees. Her shadowed figure bent over a sprawled body. She o tugged and with a grunt hopped backward with arrow in hand. To her left, another archer had been hiding right up against the trunk of a tree. His body was actually pinned to the tree by an arrow embedded in his throat. Blood had spilled down the trunk. That was the uncanniest sight of all: The obsidian point of the arrow was sticking out from the back of the man's neck, while the fletchings were embedded in the tree itself, as if a hole had opened in the tree to allow the arrow to pass through and then closed back up around the shaft at the instant the point found its mark.

Matto stumbled back to the path, still cradling his broken arm in his other hand.

He was trying valiantly not to sob out loud.” Let me see that," said Sanglant.

The youth came as trusting as a lamb. He sat down where Sanglant indicated, braced against a log, while the prince undid the boy's belt and gathered the other things he'd need: moss, a pair of stout sticks. He crouched beside the boy and finge, id around the red lump swelling halfway along the forearm while Matto hissed hard through his teeth and tears started up in his eyes. It seemed to be a clean fracture, nothing shattered or snapped. The arm lay straight, and no bone had broken through the skin.

"No shame in crying, lad. You'll get worse if you stay with Henry's army."

"I want to stay with you, if you'll let me serve you," whispered the lad with that awful glow of admiration in his eyes, augmented by the glistening tears.” I want to learn to fight the way you do." Perhaps he tightened his hand too hard on the injured arm. Matto cried out, reeling. Alia appeared suddenly and gripped the lad's shoulders to keep him still as Sanglant cradled the lump with moss and used the belt to bind the sticks along the forearm and hand. When he finished, he got the boy to drink, then rose and walked to the middle of the road where he threw back his head, listening. The bandits were all dead, or fled. A jay shrieked. The first carrion crow settled on a branch a stone's throw away. In the distance, he heard the ring of harness as horsemen approached.

Alia came up beside him.” Who's that coming? Do we leave the boy?"

"Nay, it'll be his company, the ones we just passed. The horn alerted them.

We'll wait." He undid the sling that bound his daughter to his back, and swung her around to hold to his chest, careful that her cheeks took no harm from the mail. Jerna played in the breeze above the baby's head, carefree now that danger was past. Blessing babbled sweetly, smiling as soon as she saw her father's face.

"Da da," she said.” Da da."

Ai, God, she was growing so swiftly. No more than five months of age, she looked as big as a yearling and just yesterday at the fireside she had taken a few tottering steps on her own.

"How did that arrow go through the tree?" he asked casually as he smiled into his daughter's blue-fire eyes.

His mother shrugged.” Trees are not solid, Son. Nothing is. We are all lattices made up of the elements of air and fire and wind and water as well as earth. I blew a spell down the wind with the arrow, to part the lattices within the tree, so that the arrow might strike where least expected."

She walked over to the tree and leaned against it. She seemed to whisper to it, as to a lover. His vision got a little hazy then, like looking through water. With a jerk, Alia pulled the arrow free of the wood. The body sagged to the ground.

Blood gushed and pooled on fern. The crow cawed jubilantly, and two more flapped down beside it on the branch.

Sergeant Cobbo arrived with his men. They exclaimed over the carnage and congratulated Sanglant heartily as Matto stammered out an incoherent account of the skirmish.

"I can see Captain Fulk was sorry to have left you behind," said the sergeant with a great deal more respect than he'd shown before.

But Sanglant could only regard the dead men with distaste and pity. In truth, he despised berserkers, the ones who let the beast of blood-fury consume them in battle. He prided himself on his calm and steadiness. He had always kept his wits about him, instead of throwing them to the winds. It was one of the reasons his soldiers respected, admired, and followed him: Even in the worst situations, and there had been many, he had never lost control of himself in battle.

But Bloodheart and Gent had left their mark on him. He thought he had freed himself of Bloodheart's chains, but the ghost of them lingered, a second self that had settled down inside him and twisted into another form. He was so angry sometimes that he felt

the beast gnawing down there, but whether it was anger that woke and troubled the beast, or the beast that fed his anger, he didn't know. Fate had betrayed him: his own mother had used and discarded him, his father had cherished him but only as long as it served his purpose. He had sworn enemies he'd never heard tell of, who hated him because of his blood and who would have watched his beloved daughter starve to death without lifting a finger to help. Liath had been torn from him, and despite Alia's explanation that the creatures who had kidnapped her had been daimones, fire elementals, he didn't actually know what had happened to her or whether she was alive or dead.

Still cradling Blessing, he watched as Sergeant Cobbo's men stripped the bandits of their belongings and clothes, such as they were, and dug a shallow grave.

They came to the bowman finally, and he heard their exclamations over the power of the blow that had smashed the dead man's head in. They glanced his way at intervals with a kind of sunstruck awe, although thank the Lord they had not been stricken with the babbling reverence with which Matto now regarded him.

They hadn't heard the bowman begging for mercy as he had scrambled away.

He hadn't heard it either, not really. He hadn't been listening because he'd simply been furious enough to kill anything that stood in his path or threatened Blessing. It was only afterward that he realized what he'd heard. And now it was too late.

Maybe the pity he felt wasn't truly for these poor, dead wretches. They would have killed him, after all. The Lord and Lady alone knew what they would have done to Blessing, had she fallen into their hands. Maybe the pity he felt was for that weak, unheeded voice in his own soul, the one that, before, might have listened and might have heard. The one that might have stayed his hand and let mercy, not rage, rule him.

With a grunt of displeasure, he acknowledged the men's fawning comments as they came back to the road. Alia was ready to leave. The sergeant helped Matto onto his mare while Sanglant kissed Blessing and settled her on his back again.

"I think that'll have taken care of the bandits," said Sergeant Cobbo with a smirk. He had taken the severed hand of the ringleader, the one who'd dressed as a hag, to bring as proof of the victory.” Don't you want anything? You have first choice of the booty."

"No.". Perhaps it was his expression, or his tone, but in any case although they all fell in as escort around him, not one, not even Matto, addressed a single question to him as they rode on. The silence suited him very well.

The next line of sentries lay within sight of Angenheim Palace. Sergeant Cobbo did all the talking and got them through the sentry ring quickly enough. Two of the soldiers on this sentry duty recognized him: He could tell by their startled expressions, like men who've seen a bear walk in dressed in a man's clothing.

But their company rode on before either soldier could say anything.

So many petitioners had come in the hope of being brought before the king or one of his stewards that the fields around Angenheim swarmed with them. The fetid odor of sweat, excrement, and rotting food hung heavily over the fields.

Common folk hurriedly got out of the way as Cobbo pressed his detachment through the crowd of onlookers.

Like most of the royal palaces, Angenheim had fortifications, although it wasn't as well situated as the palace at Werlida had been, placed as it was on a bluff above a river's bend. Angenheim boasted earthen ramparts and a double ring of wooden palisades surrounding the low hill on which the palace complex lay.

The court spilled out beyond the fortifications and into the fields where the petitioners had set up tents and shelters. Pasture had been ground into dirt and mud. Fires burned. Peddlers called out their wares; beggars coughed as they held out their begging bowls. Pit houses, dug out in a previous generation, had been cleaned out and inhabited by various wagoners and other servants who needed a place to stay while the king remained in residence. A small monastic estate lay beyond the fortified palace, but it, too, seemed to have been swamped by the influx of visitors. Sanglant had a moment to pity the brothers who were no doubt overwhelmed by the burden of providing hospitality to the king and his massive court. Then the party came to the final gate.

As luck would have it, Captain Fulk himself had been given gate duty this late afternoon. He stepped forward and called Cobbo

to a halt, exchanged a few jocular complaints with him, and, in mid-sentence, saw Sanglant.

His face paled. He dropped to his knees, as though felled. In the wake of that movement, the five soldiers with him knelt as well. All of them were men who had pledged loyalty to Sanglant on that fateful night fourteen months ago when he and Liath had fled the king's progress.

"You've returned to us, Your Highness." Fulk began to weep with joy.

Sanglant dismounted and indicated that the soldiers should stand.” I have not forgotten your loyalty to me, Captain Fulk." He could remember as clearly as yesterday the name and home village of each of the men kneeling before him, which they had confided to him on that dark night: Anshelm, Everwin, Wracwulf, Sibold, and Malbert. He offered Resuelto's reins to Fulk.” I would ask you now to see to my horse. The lad there needs tending by a healer."

"Of course, Your Highness!" They leaped up eagerly while Sergeant Cobbo and his men gaped, and Matto looked ready to fall off his horse either from pain or exhilaration. Cobbo asked a question of someone in the gathering crowd, and a servingwoman said scornfully, "Don't you know who that is, Cobbo? For shame!"

"Where is my father?" Sanglant asked his captain, ignoring the spate of talk his arrival had unleashed.

"Why, at the wedding feast, of course, Your Highness. Let me take you there, I beg you." Fulk gave the reins to Sibold and only then saw Alia and, a moment later, the baby strapped to Sanglant's back.

"I thank you." Sanglant was suddenly apprehensive, but he had to go on.” I wish to see him right away."

It took a moment for Fulk to shake free of amazement and curiosity. With a selfconscious cough and a good soldier's obedience, he led Sanglant to the great hall which lay in the center of the palace complex. A steady stream of servants laden with trays of meat and flagons of wine hurried in and out of the hall, passing through the throng of hangers-on and hopeful entertainers and petitioners who crowded around the doors.

They parted like soft butter under a knife at the sight of Fulk, Sanglant, and Alia. For some reason, Alia was still leading the pony and goat. If she was as nervous as Sanglant had suddenly be come, she betrayed nothing of it in her expression or posture. If anything, she looked remarkably grim. Her cold expression emphasized the inhumanity of her features.

He strode in through the doors into the shadow of the hall, hot with feasting and overflowing with a lively and boisterous crowd. The hall stank of humanity.

He had spent more of his life on campaign than in court, out in the open air, and he had forgotten what five hundred bodies pressed together and all eating and farting and belching and pissing smelled like.

Angenheim's hall had the breadth and height of a cathedral. Unshuttered windows set into the upper walls at the far end allowed light to spill over the king's table, where Henry, laughing at the antics of a trio of jugglers, shared a cup of wine with a pretty young woman who looked a few years younger than Sanglant. She wore a crown. A banner hung on the wall beside that of Wendar: the sun of Aosta.” Whose wedding feast?" he demanded of Fulk, but he could not be heard above the noise of the feasting.

He strode forward through the ranks of trestle tables with Fulk at his back.

Whippets slunk away from him. Servants leaped aside, and then cried out, seeing Alia behind him. Ladies and lords, seated at table, were struck dumb at his passage, or perhaps Alia had cast a spell on them that stole their voices.

What couldn't she do, who could cause an arrow to pierce the wood of a tree?

Silence spread in their wake.

An open space had been cleared in front of the king's table to give the entertainers room to perform their tricks as well as a space where those petitioners lucky enough to have gotten this far could kneel while they waited for the king's notice. The petitioners crouching along the edge of that empty space did not notice him because they were so intent on the king. Sanglant got a good look at the king for the first time, his view blocked only by the antics of the jugglers. Henry looked remarkably hearty, even a little flushed, as the young noblewoman laughed while gold and silver balls flashed in the air between the three jugglers. Sanglant used his boots to discreetly nudge a raggedly-dressed man out of his way. The man glanced up, startled, and scuttled to one side, causing a cascade as all the petitioners scrambled for new places. Princess Theophanu, seated at the king's right hand, noticed the movement and tracked it back to its source. Her expression did not change, although it may have whitened a little, and her hands tightened on the cup she was in the act of lifting to her lips. The cleric standing behind her chair staggered backward, as if he had been kicked in the back of the knees.

A path opened through the throng, blocked only by the jugglers, who remained intent on the balls tossed between them. Sanglant ducked under the flying path of one shiny ball, caught another in his right hand, and was through their net just as Fulk swore under his breath. A ball hit the captain on the shoulder, fell, and shattered on a circle of ground swept clean of rushes that the jugglers had marked out for their tricks. The pony, hauled in this far and perhaps lulled by the stink and the carpet of rushes and tansy laid down on the floor into thinking it had come into a stable, chose this moment to urinate, loud and long.

Henry rose with easy grace. At that moment, as Henry looked him over, Sanglant realized that his father had noticed him as soon as he had entered the hall. As might a captain laying a counter ambush against bandits hiding in the forest, the king had simply chosen to pretend otherwise.

"Prince Sanglant," he said with a cool formality that tore at Sanglant's heart.”

You have not yet met my wife, Queen Adel-heid."

Obviously, Henry was still furious at his disobedient son, since this was the very woman whom his father had so desperately wanted him to marry. She was pretty, certainly, but more importantly she had that energy about her that is common to women who find pleasure in the bed. No doubt that, together with the Aostan crown she wore, accounted for the becoming blush in his father's cheeks and the smile that hovered on his lips as he regarded his disgraced son, come limping back scarcely better than a beggar.

Who was laying an ambush for whom?

Adelheid had the audacity, and the rank, to look him over as she would a stallion.” Handsome enough," she said clearly, as if he had caught them in the middle of a conversation, "but I have no reason to regret my choice. You've proved your fitness as regnant many times over, Henry."

Henry laughed. Made bold by the king's reaction, some among the audience felt free to chuckle nervously or snicker in response, by which time certain men had made their way through the crowd to throw themselves at Sanglant's feet.

"Your Highness!"

"Prince Sanglant!"

He recognized Fulk's men, who had evidently been serving at table or standing guard throughout the hall. Heribert arrived, pressing through the knot of petitioners who were crowded closest to the king's table, and knelt before him, grasping Sanglant's hand and kissing it.

"Sanglant!" he said triumphantly, as out of breath as if he'd been running.” My lord prince! I feared—"

"Nay, friend," said Sanglant, "never fear. I pray you, rise and stand beside me."

"So I will," said the young cleric, though he wobbled a little as he got to his feet.

"Who are these, who have come forward?" asked Henry.” Does Brother Heribert not serve Theophanu?"

Theophanu still clutched her cup. Old Helmut Villam, seated beside her, leaned to whisper to her, but she was obviously not listening to him. She merely nodded, once, curtly, to Sanglant, before setting down the wine cup.

"This is my retinue, Your Majesty," said Sanglant at last.” These are men who have pledged loyalty to me."

"Don't I feed them?" asked Henry sweetly.” I didn't know you had the lands and wherewithal to maintain a retinue, Son. Certainly you scorned those that I meant to honor you with. I don't even see a gold torque at your throat to mark you as my son."

But Sanglant had his own weapons, and he knew how to counterattack. He stepped aside to reveal his mother.

She stood in a spray of light cast from the high windows. The light made bronze of her hair, burnished and finely-woven into a tight braid as thick as her wrist.

She had rolled down the sleeves of Liath's tunic and belted it in the usual manner around her hips, although even with a length of material caught up under the belt the embroidered hem still lapped her ankles. Yet despite the unexceptionable appearance of the clothing, she blazed with strangeness, as alien as a sleek leopard glimpsed running with thundering aurochs.

She said nothing. She didn't have to.

"Alia!" Henry paled noticeably, but he had been king for too many years not to know when to retreat. The mask of stone crashed down over his expression, freezing the merriment in the hall as thoroughly as any magic could have. The goat baaed, followed by complete silence. No one seemed to notice the flutter of wind moving through the robes and cloaks of the seated nobles as Jerna explored the hall.

Finally, Alia spoke.” I come back, Henri," she said, pronouncing his name in the Salian way, "but I am not believing that you cared for the child as you promised to me you would."

Ill TWISTING THE

THE seeds of conflict bloomed at such odd times that it was often easy to forget that they had been sown long before, not risen spontaneously out of fallow ground. Rosvita of North Mark had been a cleric and adviser at court for twenty years. She knew when to step back and let matters take their course, and when to intervene before a crisis got out of hand.

Although King Henry now stood, the rest of the assembly still sat in astonished, or anticipatory, silence, staring at the confrontation unfolding before them. Even wily old Helmut Villam, seated to her left at the king's table, seemed stunned into immobility, mouth parted and fingers tightly gripping the stem of the wine cup he shared with Princess Theophanu, which the princess had just set down.

Rosvita gestured to Brother Fortunatus to pull back her chair so that she, too, could rise. He hurried forward at once. Although like everyone else in the hall he could scarcely keep his gaze from the father, mother, and child whose battle was about to play out on this public stage, he had also been trained by Rosvita herself. There

were many traits she could tolerate in the clerics who served her, but to be unobservant was not one of them.

"This is the woman we've heard so much about!" he murmured in her ear as she rose.” God preserve us!"

His gaze had fastened on the Aoi woman. He was not the only person in the hall ogling her. Her features were striking but not beautiful, and although admittedly her hair had the glamour of polished bronze, she wore it caught back in a complicated knot that made her look peculiar rather than regal. Her gaze was fierce and commanding, even combative. She was not afraid to look Henry in the eye, and her proud carriage suggested that she considered herself the regnant and Henry her subject.

"I come back, Henri," she said, pronouncing his name in the Salian way with an unvoiced "h" and a garbled "ri," "but I am not believing that you cared for the child as you promised to me you would."

"I pray you, Your Majesty," said Rosvita smoothly into the shocked silence that followed this outrageous accusation, "let chairs be brought so that our visitors may sit and eat. Truly, they must have a long journey behind them. Food and drink are always a welcome sight to the traveler. Indeed, let Prince Sanglant's mother abide in my own chair, and I will serve her."

Henry stared so fixedly at the foreign woman he had once called "beloved," and whom it was popularly believed he would have married had he been permitted to, that finally Queen Adelheid rose with cool aplomb and indicated Rosvita's seat to the right of Helmut Villam. It was not actually Adelheid's prerogative, but Adelheid was neither a fool nor a quitter.

"Let a chair be brought for Prince Sanglant so that he may be seated beside me," she said in her high, clear voice.” Let his lady mother be honored as is her right and our obligation, for it was her gift of this child to my husband which sealed his right to rule as regnant in Wendar and Varre."

Sanglant stepped forward.” I have a child." His voice had a hoarse scrape to it, as though he were afflicted with pain, but his voice always sounded like that.

Years ago he had taken a wound to the throat in battle.

He untied a bundle from his back, uncoiled linen cloth, and a moment later held in his arms a yearling child, as sweet a babe as Rosvita had ever seen, with plump cheeks, a dark complexion, and bright blue eyes.” Da da!" she said in the ringing tones of imperious babyhood. He set her on the ground and she took a few tottering steps toward the king, swayed, lost her balance, and sat down on her rump. Lifting a hand, she pointed toward Henry and said, with despotic glee,

"Ba! Ba!"

Sanglant swept her up, strode forward and, by leaning over the feasting table, deposited her in Henry's arms. The king did not even resist. Many yearling babies would have shrieked in rage or fear, but the tiny child merely reached up, got a bit of the king's beard between her fingers, and tugged.

"Ba!" she exclaimed, delighted.

"Jugglers!" said Henry hoarsely. He sat and downed the contents of his wine cup in one gulp while the baby tried to climb up to his shoulder to get hold of the gleaming coronet of gold he wore on his brow—not the king's crown of state, too heavy and formal to wear at a feast, but his lesser crown, a slender band of gold worn when circumstances called for a lesser degree of formality.

Prince Sanglant's smile was sharp. Turning, he tossed the silver ball to the nearest juggler. The poor man jerked, startled, but his hand acted without his mind's measure and he caught the ball. The hall came alive then, as dawn unfolds: people recalled the food on their platters; the jugglers returned to their show of skill and daring; the soldiers who had come forward to publicly and thus irrevocably mark their allegiance to Prince Sanglant rose and waited for his command. Sanglant spoke quietly to Captain Fulk, after which the good captain dispersed his men efficiently, obtained the lead lines of the pony and the goat, and, leading the two animals, retreated from the hall while Sanglant came forward to take his place at Adelheid's left. The young cleric, Heribert, who had appeared so mysteriously in the Alfar Mountains, stuck close by Sanglant's side.

It was he who took over serving the prince, although before he had served Theophanu. The princess' expression remained as blank as stone. She rose and went to kiss Sanglant, once on either cheek, and he caught her closer and whispered something which, amazingly, brought a whisper of a smile to her face, seen and gone as swiftly as the flutter of a swallow's wing.

"Go to Princess Theophanu," Rosvita said to Fortunatus in an undertone. He hastened away to stand behind the princess' chair so that she would have a person of fitting rank to serve her now that Brother Heribert had, evidently, defected to her half brother.

Sanglant turned his attention to charming Adelheid while Henry had his hands full of clambering, enthusiastic baby. Something fundamental had changed in the prince in the fourteen months he had been gone from the king's progress.

Rosvita had seen battle joined on the field, and she had seen skirmishes played out in the subtler fields of court, but never before had she seen Sanglant maneuvering, as he obviously was now, in the political arena. Of course, before he hadn't had a child and a wife.

Where was Liath?

"You I will be thanking, woman," said the one known as Alia, who came up beside her.” You are one of the god-women, are you not?"

It took Rosvita a moment to translate the strange phrase.” Yes, I am a cleric.

My service is devoted to God and to King Henry. I pray you, Lady, sit here, if you please. Let me pour you some wine."

But the foreign woman remained standing, examining Rosvita with a stare that made her feel rather like what she supposed an insect felt before the hand of fate slapped down upon it. She was shorter than Rosvita and powerfully built, with the same kind of leashed energy common to warriors forced into momentary stillness. Alia did not smile, but abruptly the tenor of her expression changed.” You spoke in the way of an elder," she said abruptly, "when you rose to offer guesting rights. For this short time, there will be no fighting between Henri and his son."

"So I hope," agreed Rosvita, but in truth the observation surprised her. She did not know what to expect from the Aoi woman. She did not know anything, really, about the Aoi except for legends half buried in ancient manuscripts and tales told around hearths at night in the long halls of the common people. Like many, she had begun to believe the Aoi were only a story, a dream fostered by old memories of the ancient Dariyan Empire, but it was impossible to deny the evidence of her own eyes.” Sit, I pray you." At times like this, one fell back on basic formality.” Let me pour you wine, if you will, Lady."

"To you," said Alia without making any movement toward the chair, "I will give my spoken name, because you are wise enough to use it prudently. I am known among my people as Uapeani-ka-zonkansi-a-lari, but if that is too much for your tongue, then Kansi-a-lari is enough."

Rosvita smiled politely.” With your permission, then, Lady, I will address you as Kansi-a-lari. Is there a title that suits you as well? I am unaccustomed to the customs of your people."

"Kansi-a-lari is my title, as you call it." With that, she sat, moving into the confines of the chair with the cautious grace of a leopard slinking into a box that might prove to be a cage.

The feast ground on, lurching a little, like a wagon pulled over rough ground, but entertainers took their turns, platters of beef, venison, and pork were brought hot from the outdoor cookhouses, and wine flowed freely. Petitioners shuffled forward in waves and were sent on their way with a judgment or a coin or a scrap from the king's platter for their pains. A poet trained in the court chapel of the Salian king sang from a lengthy poem celebrating the virtues and fame of the great emperor, Taillefer, he who had risen from the kingship of Salia to the imperial crown of Darre. Emperor Taillefer stood alone in the ranks of the great princes, for no regnant from any land in the one hundred years since his death had gained enough power to duplicate his achievement. None until Henry, who had now, through marriage to Adelheid, allied his kingdom of Wendar and Varre with the country of Aosta, within whose borders lay the holy city of Darre.

Of course the poet meant to praise the dead Emperor Taillefer while flattering the living king, Henry, whose ambition to take upon himself the title "Holy Dariyan Emperor" was no secret to his court.

"Look! The sun shines no more brightly than the emperor, who illuminates the earth with his boundless love and great wisdom. For although the sun knows twelve hours of darkness, our regnant, like a star, shines eternally."

The entrance of Prince Sanglant and his mother, while never forgotten, was subsumed into the familiar conviviality of the feast. And anyway, it gave everyone there something to gossip about as the banquet, and the poet, wore on.

"He enters first among the company, and he clears the way so that all may follow. With heavy chains he binds the unjust and with a stiff yoke he constrains the proud.”

After all, it was the fifth day of feasting, and even the heartiest of revelers might be forgiven for growing restless after endless hours of merriment and gluttony.

In an odd way, Rosvita was grateful to serve rather than sit. She attended to Alia as unobtrusively as possible, so as not to startle her or give her any reason to feel spied upon or threatened.

"He is the fount of grace and honor. His achievements have made him famous throughout the four quarters of the earth."

The Aoi woman did not invite conversation. Young Lord Fride-braht, seated to her right, was certainly too much in dread of her strange appearance and fierce gaze to speak one single word to her. Even old Villam, who had known Alia those many years ago in her brief time at court and who certainly had never before lacked the spirit or courage to flatter an attractive woman, attempted only a few comments before, in the face of her disinterest, he gave up. Alia watched the king, the court, and occasionally her son. She ate and drank sparingly. In this way, the feast continued without further incident.

The poet finished his panegyric at last, and a cleric came forward to give a pleasing rendition of "The Best of Songs," the wedding song taken from the ancient Essit holy book.

"My beloved is mine, and I am his. Let me be a seal upon your heart, like the seal upon your hand.”

The king's favored Eagle, Hathui, beckoned to Rosvita.” His Majesty will take his leave of the hall now."

"What make you of this turn of events?" asked Rosvita. Although Hathui was only a common-born woman, she had a keen eye and the king's confidence.

"It is unexpected." Hathui laughed at the absurdity of her own statement. Henry had gotten the baby settled on his knee and was now feeding her the choicest bits, mashed into a porridgelike con sistency, from the platter he shared with his queen.” I believe the king would be better served if he sorts it out in the king's chambers, in some manner of privacy, away from the assembly."

Almost as if he had overheard the Eagle's statement, Sanglant rose to toast the newly married couple. Despite his common clothing, he had the carriage of a prince and the proud face of a man who expects loyalty and obedience in those who follow him. He knew how to pitch his voice to carry over the buzzing throng.

"Let many blessings attend this union," he said to cheers. When the hurrahs tailed off, he went on.” But let me call before you one blessing, in particular, that is held by our blessed regnant and my beloved father, King Henry."

The hall quieted. The guards at the doors strained forward to hear. Even the servants paused in their tasks.

At the sound of her father's voice, the baby stood up in Henry's lap and sang out, "Da! Da!" in a voice surely meant someday to ring out above the clash of battle. Henry laughed as many in the assembly chuckled appreciatively or murmured to each other, wondering what the prince was about. Bastards siring children was nothing unknown, alas, but it wasn't customary to bring such a left-handed lineage to the attention of the entire court.

A fly buzzed annoyingly by Rosvita's ear. As she slapped it away, Sanglant continued.

"King Henry holds in his arms my daughter, whom I have named Blessing, as was my right as her father."

"And a blessing she truly is, Son," replied Henry. Despite the shock of Sanglant's and Alia's arrival, Henry had mellowed under the influence of the child. Or so it seemed. He was a subtle campaigner, and in such circumstances it was easy to forget that his wrath, once kindled, was slow to burn out.” In your place, with such responsibilities, it is wise for you to come seeking forgiveness of me. You cannot hope to feed and clothe a retinue in this guise you have taken, garbed something like a common soldier and without even the gold badge of your royal lineage about your neck. Surely your daughter deserves more than this journeyer's life."

Adelheid's smile sharpened as she looked at Sanglant to see how he would respond to this thrust.

The prince downed his cup of wine in a single gulp and, with a flush staining his bronze-dark cheeks, replied with an edge in his voice.” I ask for nothing for myself, Your Majesty. I thought I made that plain when I returned to you the belt of honor which you yourself fastened on me when I was fifteen. What I wear now I have earned through my own efforts. Nay, I return to court not for my own benefit."

They were like two dogs, growling before they bit.

"If you do not come seeking my forgiveness, then why are you here?"

demanded Henry.

"I come on behalf of my daughter, Blessing. I ask only for what is due her as the last legitimate descendant of the Emperor Taillefer."

Taillefer. Dead these hundred years and his lineage died with him, for no child sired by his loins had reigned after him and his empire had fallen apart soon after his death.

Rosvita understood, then, everything that hadn't been plain to her before: the puzzle of the pregnant Queen Radegundis, who had fled to the convent after her husband Taillefer's death; the mystery of Mother Obligatia and the cryptic words of Brother Fidelis; and most of all, the inexplicable luster that made Liath appear to be far more than the simple king's messenger she supposedly was.

"So many show such an interest in a common Eagle,” the king had said once, over a year ago, when she had been brought before him to face his judgment.

But a child born of Taillefer's line would surely retain some of Taillefer's legendary glory, the corona of power that cloaked him at all times.

Henry stared at his son.” Do you mean to suggest that the Eagle you ran off with is descended from Taillefer?"

Sanglant's answer was pitched not to carry to his father but rather to the entire assembly of nobles and serving-folk.” Who here will witness that I made a legitimate and binding union of marriage with the woman called Liathano?"

Soldiers stepped forward from their stations beside the door.” I will witness, Your Highness!" one called, and a second, and a third and fourth, echoed him.

As their shouts died away, Captain Fulk came forward. His steadiness was well known, and he had gained renown for his service to Theophanu on the disastrous expedition to Aosta in the course of which they had, despite everything, rescued Adelheid from the clutches of Lord John Ironhead.

"I witness, Your Highness," he cried, "that you freely stated your intention before God and freeborn witnesses to bind yourself in marriage to the woman Liathano."

"Then there is no impediment," said Sanglant triumphantly.” Liathano is the great granddaughter of Taillefer and Radegundis, born out of legitimate unions and therefore herself legitimate, not a bastard. That is why she now wears the gold torque that I once wore at my throat. In this way, I honored her royal lineage and her right to claim descent from Taillefer." He looked neither at his mother or father as he said this, only at the crowd. Some of the assembly had stood, trying to see better, and that had caused others at the back to stand on their benches or even on the tables. The air in the hall and the very attitude of the crowd snapped with the reverberant energy that precedes a thunderstorm.

Queen Adelheid's smile had gained a fixed look, and for an instant she looked really angry.

"This is unbelievable," said Henry.” Taillefer died without a legitimately born son to succeed him, as was the custom in those days in Salia. He has no descendants."

"Queen Radegundis was pregnant when Taillefer died." Sanglant gestured toward the hapless poet who had entertained the feasting multitude with Taillefer's exploits and noble qualities.” Is that not so, poet?" The poor man could only nod as Sanglant threw back into the hall lines that Rosvita had once read from her precious Vita of St. Radegundis, which she had received from the hands of Brother Fidelis.” 'Still heavy with child, Radegundis clothed herself and her companion Clothilde in the garb of poor women. She chose exile over the torments of power.' And took refuge in the convent at Poiterri. What became of the child Radegundis carried, Your Majesty?"

"No one knows," said Hathui suddenly, speaking for the king.” No one knows what became of the child."

"I know." Rosvita stepped forward. Was it disloyal to speak? Yet she could not lie or conceal when so much was at stake. She owed the truth for the sake of Brother Fidelis' memory, if nothing else.” I know what became of the child born to Radegundis and Taillefer, for I spoke to him in the hour of his death in the hills above Herford Monastery. He was called Brother Fidelis, and except for a single year when he lapsed from his vows for the sake of the love of a young woman, he spent his life as a monk in the service of God.

Fidelis wrote these words in his Life of St. Rade-gundis: The world divides those whom no space parted once.'"

She paused to make sure that every person there had time to contemplate the hidden meaning in his words.” Truly, can it not be said that before a baby is born, it and its mother are of one body, of a single piece? What God divides in childbirth can be split asunder by the world's intrigues as well."

When their murmuring died away, she went on.” I spoke as well to the woman whom he married and who bore a child conceived with his seed. She is an old woman now, and she lives in hiding out of fear of those who seek her because of the secret she carries with her. I believe that her story is true, that she was briefly married to Fidelis—the son of Taillefer and Radegundis—and that her union with Fidelis produced a daughter. It is possible that the daughter lived, and survived, and in her turn bore a child."

"She lived and she survived," said Sanglant in a grim voice.” A daughter was born to her, gotten in legitimate marriage with a disgraced frater who had studied the lore of the mathematici. He named the child Liathano. The rest you know."

"Where, then, is Liath?" Henry gestured toward the hall as if he expected her to step forward from a place of concealment.” Why have you returned to me, with this astounding claim, without her?"

It fell away, then, the pride and the anger and the confidence. Sanglant began to weep silently, a few tears that slid down his cheeks. He made no effort to wipe them away. Weeping, after all, was a man's right and obligation.

"Dead, or alive, I cannot say," he whispered hoarsely.” She was stolen from me.

I do not know where she is now."

AS Liath descended the staircase the light faded quickly, yet where it grew dimmest she could still distinguish walls and steps with her salamander eyes.

The old sorcerer matched her step for step even though she stood half a head taller. It grew markedly cool. At intervals, the murmuring of voices swept up the staircase like a wind out of the Abyss.

They walked down for a long time. At some point she stopped feeling the regular seams of worked stone and touched only the seamlessly rough walls of excavated earth. Eventually the staircase leveled out, and they walked down a short tunnel so round that a rod might have punched it out to make a circle within the rock. The tunnel opened into a broad chamber whose walls were illuminated by a small opening far above them. Plants had grown through the opening; roots dangled into empty air and twined along the ceiling, trying to gain purchase against the rock. Dust motes danced along the roof before they swirled into shadows.

The smooth floor descended down two high steps to an oval hollow that marked the meeting place, where the council members had congregated. They wore a bewildering variety of strange clothing: shifts stamped with colored patterns, feathers adorning their hair, sheaths studded with beads and colored stones bound around forearms and calves. Most of them wore some kind of cloak, pinned at one shoulder and draping down to mid-thigh. Each of the women wore a heavy jade ring piercing her nose, all except one.

They had exotic faces, broad across the cheekbones, reddish or bronze in their complexions. They looked nothing like the Wendish, but she could see Sanglant's heritage in every face there. There were not more than thirty, waiting for her in a chamber obviously large enough to command an audience of hundreds, yet somehow the chamber felt crowded, as if the shades of those who IOO

had stood here in the past and who would stand here in the future filled the empty spaces.

Silence reigned.

She stood beneath the wings of an eagle whose semblance had been carved out of the stone archway above the tunnel. Every person seated or standing within the chamber examined her. Yet when she compared their stern and even hostile expressions to Hugh's poisonous gaze, she could not fall into helpless terror. She had walked through the fire and survived.

Eldest Uncle shifted behind her, coughing gently.

In the center of the oval, seated on an eagle literally carved out of the stone floor, sat a very pregnant woman with a gloriously feathered cloak draped around her shoulders. Her hair was pulled back in a topknot. Alone of all the women, she wore no jade ring in her nose. Behind her stood the golden wheel, no longer turning because in this stone womb there was no wind. The emerald feathers trimming the wheel glowed with a light of their own. Feather Cloak lifted a hand and beckoned Liath to come forward.

"I am here," Liath said in response to that languid gesture. She took a big step down, and then the second, to stand at the same level as the others. Lifting her hands, she opened them to show her palms out, empty.” I come unarmed, as is your custom. Eldest Uncle comes with me, to show that I mean no harm to your people. In the language of my people, I am called Liathano, and I seek knowledge-—"

That brought them to life.

"Let her be cast out!" shouted White Feather, the woman who had come to see Eldest Uncle.” How dares she bring the name of our ancient enemy into this chamber?" The distinctive shield of white feathers bound into her hair shook as if in response to her anger, and her words unleashed the others, a chorus of discordant views, too rapid an exchange for Liath to see immediately which one spoke what words.

"It's treachery! Kill her at once!"

"Nay, I would hear her speak!"

"We cannot trust any child born of humankind—"

"We are few, and they are many. If we do not seek understanding now, then we will surely all perish."

"I want to know what Eldest Uncle means by bringing her here without the permission of the council. The human woman is nothing to us, however evil her name. It is Eldest Uncle who must stand before our judgment."

One stepped forward belligerently, hard to ignore because he was a strikingly attractive man clothed only in a cunningly-tied loincloth and a plain hip-length cloak and adorned by nothing more than a wooden mask carved into the shape of a snarling cat pushed back on top of his cropped hair. He had a powerful baritone.” I say this to you, sisters and brothers: Let her blood be the first we spill. Let it, and the memory of the one who helped to ruin us, be used to strengthen us as we prepare to fight to take back what was once ours."

"Silence." They fell silent at once. Feather Cloak did not rise from her stone seat. Her crossed legs cradled her huge belly, which was half concealed by the stone eagle's head thrusting up from the floor. The feather cloak pooled over the wings of the bird, giving the woman the appearance of a creature both humanlike and avian. Under her light shift, her breasts were swollen in the way of pregnant women, round and full, and Liath was struck by such a sharp jab of envy that she had to blink back tears.

Where was Blessing now? Who was caring for her?

Feather Cloak curved a hand around her belly.” Remember that this child will be the first born on Earth since our exile. Shall it be born to know only war, or to know peace as well?"

"You have taken the Impatient One's counsel to heart!" snarled Cat Mask.” She threw away her loyalty to her own people to go walking among humankind. You know what she did there!"

"You are only angry that she tossed your spear out of her house!" cried another young man, laughing unkindly after he spoke. He wore a mask carved in the shape of a lizard's head, elaborated with a curly snout.” Very proud you are of that spear, and it galls you to think that another man—not just another man but a human man might have been allowed to bring his spear into her house!"

This insult triggered a flurry of mocking laughter among some of the others and a clash, like rams locking horns, between the two men that was only halted when a stout older man stepped between them.

Dressed more conservatively than the other men, with his chest covered by a tunic in the manner of the women, he made for an unsettling sight with a necklace of mandibles hanging at his chest and earrings fashioned to resemble tiny skulls dangling from either ear.” The Impatient One chose negotiation over war." With a single finger on the chest of each of the young men, he pushed them apart as though they weighed no more than a child.

"We cannot negotiate with humankind," objected White Feather.

"What do you mean us to do?" asked an elderly woman in a deceptively sweet voice.” We have dwindled. How many children are left to us, and how many among us remain capable even of bearing or siring a child? Where once our tribes filled cities, now we eke out a living in the hills, on the dying fields. If there is one left where ten stood before, then I am counting generously. We will be weak when we stand on Earth once more. We must seek accommodation."

Cat Mask gave a barking laugh of disgust.” Accommodation is for fools! We have enough power to defeat them, even if we are few and they are many."

"So speaks the Impulsive One," retorted the old woman. She had a scar on her left cheek, very like a wound taken in battle. Her short tunic ended at her waist and below that she wore a ragged skirt, much repaired, striped with rows of green beads. Little white masks, all of them grinning skull faces, hung from her belt.” I ask you, The-One-Who-Sits-In-The-Eagle-Seat, let the human woman walk forward and speak to us. I, for one, would hear what she has to say."

"Come forward," said Feather Cloak.

Liath walked forward cautiously. The council members moved as she walked, shifting position so that they stood neither too close nor too far, yet always able to see her face.

"Stand before me." Feather Cloak looked serious but not antagonistic. Liath felt it safe to obey her, under the circumstances.” Closer. There." Closing her eyes, Feather Cloak rested a hand on Liath's hip. The touch was probing without being intrusive. Even through her tunic, Liath felt the cool smoothness of her hand, almost as if it melted into her.

And she was thrown, abruptly, into the trance she had learned from Eldest Uncle. She slid into it without warning, into that place where the architecture of existence dissolves into view. Dust motes dance, surrounded by empty space, yet those motes are arranged in perfect order, a latticework of being that in its parts makes up all of her and yet, because it is invisible to the naked eye, seems to be nothing of what she actually is. In her mind's eye, the city of memory bloomed into view, on the hill, on the lake, and at its core burned the blue-white fire that consumes mountains—

Feather Cloak jerked back with a gasp as her eyelids snapped open.” She is not what she seems! More than one essence weaves itself within her." Her gaze flashed past Liath to Eldest Uncle.” There is even something of you in her, Eldest Uncle. How can this be so?"

He merely shrugged.

"So often you refuse to answer me!" But Feather Cloak's frown seemed born as much of resigned amusement as irritation. Given the advanced stage of her pregnancy, Liath could well imagine that the Aoi woman might simply be exhausted. She spoke again to Liath.” So, then, You-Who-Have-More-Than-One-Seeming, why have you come here?"

Liath displayed her empty palms.” I hold no secrets here. I came to learn what I am."

"What are you?"

"In my own land, I am known as the child of mathematici, sorcerers who bind and weave the light of the stars—

Nothing, not even their reaction to her name, could have prepared her for the uproar that greeted these words.

"Daughter of the ones who exiled us!"

"Heir to the shana-ret'zeri, cursed may they be."

"Kill her!"

"Silence!" roared Feather Cloak. For an instant she seemed actually to expand in size and to take on the features of the eagle, so that as her person swelled and her features sharpened it seemed she might transform into a creature that would fill the entire chamber and swallow those who disobeyed it.

Silence swept down like wings. Liath blinked. In the next instant Feather Cloak appeared to be nothing more than a very pregnant woman with lines of exhaustion around her mouth and the

habit of command in her voice.” What do you say to these accusations?"

"In truth, honored one, the story of your people is lost to me. None among humankind knows it now. Our legends say that your kind lived on Earth once, but that you left because of your war with humankind. It is said that you left Earth in order to hoard your power, so that when you returned, you could defeat humankind and make them your slaves." Hastily she gestured to show that she had not yet done, because Cat Mask, for one, seemed eager to throw speech back at her, like a spear.” These are the stories and legends told by my people. I do not know how much truth there is in them. It happened so long ago that all memory of the truth is lost to us."

"But not to us!" cried Cat Mask.” We recall it bitterly enough!"

"Let her speak," shouted Lizard Mask. Like a lizard, he threw his breath into his chest, all puffed out. Little white scars, like lines marking the phases of the moon, scored his dark skin. Al at once, she realized why the men seemed so like Sanglant: not one of them had a beard.

"How can none remember it?" asked elderly Green Skirt.” My mother and aunts suffered through the cataclysm, and I can recite their stories of that time as easily as I breathe. How can it be forgotten? We were at war with the shana-ret'zeri and their human allies for generations. It cannot have passed so easily even from human memory."

Others murmured in agreement.

"No," said Liath.” If the measure of days and years moves differently here than there, then more time has passed for those living on Earth than for you, here in this country. According to the calculations I know, your tribe has not walked on Earth for almost two thousand and seven hundred years. That is over a hundred generations, as measured by human lives. All we have left from those days are ancient memories shrouded in tales that make little sense to us now, as well as the remains of what the ancient people built. Yet fallen buildings cannot speak."

"One hundred generations!" Even the hostile White Feather seemed struck by this fact.” My mother's mother died in the Sundering. I had the story from my aunt and my mother's brother. No more time than this has passed, here."

"Then I pray you, tell me the story," said Liath.” Tell me what happened in those days and how you came to this country."

"Beware how much you tell her," murmured Skull Earrings.

"Aren't you the one who advises accommodation with the human tribes?"

retorted Cat Mask gleefully.

"Accommodation, but not surrender! That is why some among us agreed when the Impatient One told us her plan. If we tell this one too much, and it can be used against us—"

"I will speak." Feather Cloak's words, as always, silenced the others.” How can the truth harm us? I can only recount the deeds of that time as they were given to me by my aunt, who wore the serpent skirt and danced below the altar of She-Who-Will-Not-Have-A-Husband. Alone among us all, Eldest Uncle remains.

He witnessed. Perhaps he will again tell us the tale."

He was hesitant.” It is nothing I desire to remember." He looked at Liath as he said the words.” Yet worse will come if we do not remember."

The council members, even those who had spoken in the most hostile way before, moved back respectfully as he descended to the council ground. Behind the standard, raised on a squat column of stone and concealed up to this moment from Liath's sight by the arrangement of the standing councillors, lay a carving rather like that of the eagle on which Feather Cloak sat. This one resembled a huge cat, lionlike but scarred with lines that seemed to indicate dapplings or lesions upon its stone coat. Its head, tail, and paws thrust up from the stone as if it had been caught in the instant before it fully emerged out of the rock. Eldest Uncle clambered up on this high seat and settled himself cross-legged on the curving back.

When all were quiet and at rest, he began to speak.

"Hu-ah. Hu-ah. Let my words be pleasing to She-Who-Cre-ates. In those days, we called ourselves The-Ones-Who-Have-Understanding. Our people became alive in the place known as Gold-Is-Everywhere. We were the children of the Fourth Sun, which was born after the waters flooded the world and destroyed the Third Sun. In that place known as Gold-Is-Everywhere, we built cities and gave offerings to the gods. But He-Who-Burns became angry with our people.

He sent forth his sons and they

burned the cities with their fire. After this, there was no peace among the tribes.

"Thirteen of the clans built ships and sailed boldly west over the great water.

The moon three times hid her face before land was sighted. Here they found many goats and the pale ones who looked like people but acted like dogs.

" 'This is not a good country,' said The-One-Who-Counts. The council listened to her words, and they left that place.

"After much wandering, the thirteen clans came to the middle sea. Here, also, the pale ones lived, but these pale ones acted like people, not beasts. The council met, and The-One-Who-Counts said to them: 'This is a better country.'

"They made a harbor there and built cities in the place known after that as Abundance-Is-Ours-If-The-Gods-Do-Not-Change-Their-Minds. Into this land the clans settled and made new homes. None of the offerings were forgotten, and in this way rain fell at the proper time and sun shone at the proper time. There were many children. In this land, the people called themselves The-Ones-Who-Have-Made-A-New-Home.

"Some of the pale ones, who called themselves humankind, came as friends to our people. Others came from the south, who had skin as black as charcoal, and some from the east, who were the color of clay. Some among humankind walked together with our people and painted the clan marks on their bodies. In this way, they became part of the clans, and their blood and our blood mixed.

"Many Long Years passed. The counting-women walked on the temples and counted the rising and setting of the stars. At the end of every four Long Years, which marks a Great Year, they ascended the Hill of the Star and watched to see if the Six-Women-Who-Live-Upriver would pass the zenith. In this way, the counting-women would know that the movements of the heavens had not ceased and that the world would not come to an end.

"Hu-ah. Hu-ah. Let She-Who-Creates be pleased as my story continues.

"The time of four omens began in the year of -Mountain. In the season of Dry Light, the people saw a strange wonder. A column of flame appeared in the sky.

Like a great wound, it bled fire onto the earth, drop by drop. The people cried out all together in wonder and in dread, and as was the custom, they clapped their hands against their mouths. They asked the counting-women what it could mean, the counting-women answered that the stars spoke of a great cataclysm, the rising of the Fifth Sun, under which the whole world would suffer. That year, there were many offerings to the gods.

"In the year of -Sky fire ran like a river through the sky at daybreak. It split into three parts and the three parts became wind. One part of wind rose up to the Hill of the Stars and smashed the House of Authority. The other two parts lashed the waters of the Lake of Gold until the waters boiled. Half of the houses of the city fell into the boiling waves. Then the waters sank back to their rightful place.

"In the year of -Sky, a whirlwind of dust rose from the earth until it touched the sky. Out of the whirlwind came the voice of the crying woman, and she cried,

'We are lost! Let us flee the city.' After that, the sky inhaled the whirlwind, but the crying woman was left behind, and she would often be heard in the middle of the night.

"The-One-Who-Sits-In-The-Eagle-Seat sent out the most gifted seers and sorcerers to see what was happening, but everywhere they went their human neighbors greeted them with stones and spears, violence and battle. The men who speak for peace went out among humankind, but they were killed.

"The shana-ret'zeri were on the move, and they had allied with the human tribes. Even those whom we had taught and taken into our own towns turned against us. The long enmity between our peoples could not be healed. At this time the year -Sky came to an end, and the counting-women tallied the beginning of the year -Sky with offerings. Thirteen times had the full count of Great Years run to completion, which meant that the Long Count had come ful circle. This was the time of greatest danger, for at the end of each Long Count, the gods gained the power to destroy the sun.

"It came to pass that on the two hundredth day of -Sky, two of the fisherfolk captured a heron in the waters of the lake. The bird was so marvelous and strange that none of them could describe it, so they took it to The-One-Who-Sits-In-The-Eagle-Seat. She had io

gone already to the Hall of Night to celebrate the evening banquet.

"A crown of stars was set on the head of the bird. The-One-Who-Sits-In-The-Eagle-Seat said, 'Within the crown I see a mirror, and the mirror shows me the heavens and the night sky. In the mirror, I see the stars we call the Six-Women-Who-Live-Upriver, but they are burning.' Now she was very afraid, because it seemed to her that this was not only strange and wondrous, but a particularly bad omen.

"She looked a second time into the mirror. She saw the human sorcerers standing within their stone looms and weaving a spell greater than any spell known before on Earth. Then the seers and the counting-women of my people understood the intent of the shana-ret'zeri and their human allies.

"Too late had we discovered the danger. Our enemies had already woven the net to catch us."

Abruptly, the old sorcerer could not go on. He faded as the sun fades beneath the hills, losing all power, and his body bent over his crossed knees as though he had fainted.

"I will not speak of the suffering," he said in a whisper that nevertheless penetrated the entire chamber, "or of the ones we lost. Only this. By means of the spell woven by the human sorcerers and their allies, our land was torn away from Earth. Here in exile we have lingered. The land dies around us as all plants die in time, when they are uprooted. We have dwindled. We would die were we to remain in this exile forever."

He straightened up. The fire of anger flashed in his gaze again, the stubbornness of a man who has seen a sight worse than death but means to survive longer than his enemies. He looked directly at Liath.” But what is born out of Earth returns to Earth. This truth our enemies did not comprehend. They thought to rid themselves of us forever, but they only exiled us for a time."

"How can that be?" demanded Liath.” If they flung you and your homeland away from Earth, then surely it must be your own sorcerers who are bringing your land back to Earth." "Give me your belt."

She undid Her leather belt and walked forward with her tunic lapping her calves.

The council members had fallen into a profound silence, whether out of respect for Eldest Uncle and his CHILD or FLAME memories, or out of sorrow for what had been lost, she could not know.

He took the belt and held it by the buckle so that the other end dangled loose toward the floor. Grasping the other end, he brought it up to touch the buckle.

"Here is a circle." He placed a finger on the buckle.” If I were to walk on the surface of this belt, where would I end up?" He let her draw her finger from the buckle around the outside flat of the belt, until she returned to where she had started.

"So," he agreed, because she was nodding, "think of the buckle of this belt as Earth. When the human sorcerers wove their spell, they meant to throw my people and the land in which we dwelt off of Earth, to a different place, so—" He moved her finger from the buckle to the underside of the buckle.” Now the one is separate from the other. Even if I walk on this side of the belt, I will not come back to Earth. Do so." She ran her finger along the inside flat of the belt and, truly, although she remained close to the other side of the belt, although she passed underneath the buckle that represented Earth, she never returned to it.

The two sides were eternally separate, having no point of connection.

He let the end of the belt dangle loose again, holding only the buckle.” But it seems they overlooked a quality inherent in the nature of the universe." Taking the end of the belt, he gave it a half twist and then brought it up to the buckle.”

Now, you see, if I walk the belt, I pass one time around and circle underneath the buckle but I remain on the same surface and continue once more around the belt until I return to the buckle itself."

"Ah," said Liath, fascinated at once. She traced the surface of the belt all the way around twice without lifting her finger from the leather, and the second time she came back to the buckle, where she had started.

"I never thought of that!" she cried, amazed and intrigued.” The universe has a fold in it."

"So you see," said Eldest Uncle approvingly.” Although our land was flung away from Earth, the fold in the universe is bringing us back to where we started."

He rose unsteadily, as if his knees hurt him. Extending an arm, he addressed the council.” On Earth, the measure of days and years moves differently than it does here. Soon, the full count of Great

in Years will have again run to completion thirteen times on Earth. The ending point will becoming the starting point, and we will come home."

Cat Mask seemed about to blurt out a comment, but Eldest Uncle's gaze stilled the words on his tongue. Ponderously, Feather Cloak pushed up to her feet. No one moved to help her, until Liath finally stepped toward her but was brought up short by Skull Earrings. The elderly man raised a hand, palm out, to show that she must not aid the pregnant woman who sat in the Eagle Seat.

Panting a little, Feather Cloak steadied herself and surveyed the council.

Standing, she looked even more enormously pregnant, so huge that it seemed impossible she hadn't burst.” We will come home," she agreed.” Yet there remains a danger to us. We will come home unless the human sorcerers now on Earth use their magic to weave a second spell like the first. Then they could fling us back into the aether, and we would surely all perish, together with our land."

Pain cut into Liath's belly. She tucked, bending slightly, reflex -ively, but the pain vanished as swiftly as it had come—it was only the memory of her labor pains the day her mother had told her the story of the Great Sundering, and the threat of the Aoi return.

"The only one who can stop them is you,” Anne had said.

Had Da known all along? Was this the fate he had tried to hide her from—

serving as Anne's tool? Pain stabbed again, but this time it was anger. Da hadn't helped her at all by hiding the truth from her. He'd only made it harder.

Ignorance hadn't spared her, it had only made her weak and fearful.

"To use magic in such a way seems like the act of a monster," she said at last, measuring her words, aware of the anger burning in the pit of her stomach.” But I have heard of a story told by my people of a time known as the Great Sundering, when the Aoi—

"Call us not by that name!" cried Cat Mask.” If you come in peace, as you claim, why do you keep insulting us?"

"I do not intend to insult you!" she retorted, stung.” That is the name my people call you."

"Don't you know what it means?" asked Green Skirt.

"No."

Cat Mask spat the words.” 'Cursed Ones.'"

"What do you call yourselves, then?"

They all broke out talking at once.

Feather Cloak lifted a hand for silence.” In our most ancient home, we called ourselves The-Ones-Who-Have-Understanding. After our ancestors left that place and came over the sea, we called ourselves The Ones-Who-Have-Made-A-New-Home. Now we call ourselves The-Ones-In-Exile, Ashioi, which also means, The-Ones-Who-Have-Been-Cursed."

"Ashioi," murmured Liath, hearing the word she knew—"Aoi" —embedded within it. Was that how ancient knowledge survived, only in fragments like the florilegia Da had compiled over the years? Surely Da had understood the true purpose of the Seven Sleepers. What had he been looking for in these notes and scraps of magical knowledge? Had he wondered how a spell as powerful as the Great Sundering could come to be? She had to work it through in order to understand the whole.” Wouldn't it also be true that if such a huge region of land fell to Earth again, it would make a terrible cataclysm?"

"Maybe so," said Eldest Uncle, "yet if this land approaches close by Earth and is flung away again by a spell woven by human sorcerers, that act, too, will cause manifold destruction. The tides of the universe spare no object, for even when bodies do not touch, they influence each other. If you are trained in the craft of the stars, then you understand this principle. No part of the shore is safe from a high tide, or an ebb tide. Either way, Earth will suffer."

Twilight came suddenly; the gap in the ceiling darkened so quickly that spinning dust motes caught in shafts of light simply vanished as shadow spread. For a moment, it was too dark for even Liath to see. Then the Eagle Seat and the Jaguar Seat began to glow, illuminating the two figures who stood on their backs: Feather Cloak and Eldest Uncle. In that gleam, the shells and beads decorating their cloaks and arm sheaths took on new colors, roots of scarlet and viridian that shuddered deep within.

His final words, like an arrow, were aimed at her heart.” The only choice is whether my people perish utterly, or whether we will be given a chance to live."

In her mind's eye she saw the ruined city that ended at a shoreline so sharp and straight that a knife might have shorn it off. A knife—or a vast spell whose power beggared the imagination and left her a little stunned—might have sheared off the land so, cutting it cleanly as one slices away a piece of meat from the haunch.

To contemplate the power of such a spell, such a sundering, left her sick to her stomach and profoundly dizzy. She went hot all over. Her blood pounded in her limbs, and the hot taste of fire burned on her lips as a wind roared in her ears.

Who would perish, and who would live? Who had earned the right to make that choice?

The room blazed with heat. The council members cried out as fire blossomed at the heart of the Eagle Seat, engulfing Feather Cloak entirely. Liath staggered at its brilliance, yet within the archway of leaping flames shadows writhed.

Hanna riding in the train of a battered army across a grassy landscape mottled with trees and low hills.

Hugh seated at a feast in the place of honor next to a laughing man who wears a crown of iron, yet as she takes in her breath sharply, horrified to see Hugh's beautiful face, he looks up, startled, just as if he has heard her. He turns to speak intently to the veiled woman seated at his right hand.

Wolfhere walking with bowed shoulders down a forest path. She forms his name on her lips, and abruptly he glances up and speaks, audibly: "Liath?"

Lamps burn in a chamber made rich by the lush tapestries hanging on its walls.

People have gathered around King Henry— she recognizes him at once—but as though a lodestone drags her, her vision pulls past him to that which she most seeks: Ai, God, it is Blessing! The baby is crying, struggling in Heri-bert's arms as she reaches out for her mother.

"Ma! Ma! " the infant cries.

Blessing can see her!

"Blessing!" she cries. Then she sees him, emerging out of a shadowed corner.

Maybe her heart will break, because she misses him so much.” Sanglant!"

He leaps forward.” Liath!" But a figure jerks him back.

They were gone.

"Look!" shouted Cat Mask.

Through the fading blaze, Liath saw a sleeping man. His head was turned away from her, but two black hounds lay on either side of him, like guardians. He stirred in his sleep. That fast, fire and vision vanished, and the flames settled like falling wings to reveal Feather Cloak standing unharmed.

Liath sank down to the floor, shaking so hard she could not stand.

"Let this be a sign," said Feather Cloak sternly.” Who among you saw the Impatient One and the man who must be her son, who partakes both of our blood and of human blood?"

But the others had not seen the vision made of fire, and Liath was too shaken to speak.

"She must leave," said Feather Cloak to Eldest Uncle.” She bears an ill-omened name. Her power is too great, and like all of humankind, she does not understand it. I have spoken."

"So be it," said Eldest Uncle.

Cat Mask jumped forward.” Let her blood be taken to give us strength!"

They all began arguing at once as Liath leaped to her feet.” Is this what you call justice?" she cried.

"Silence," said Feather Cloak in a voice so soft that it seemed more like an exhaled breath, and yet silence fell. A wind blew outside, making the roots at the ceiling tick quietly against each other in its eddy.” She must leave unmolested. I will not risk her blood spilled while we are still so weak."

"Yet I would have her walk the spheres before she goes," said Eldest Uncle as congenially as if he wished to offer an honored guest a final mug of ale before departure.

White Feather hissed. Skull Earrings made a sharp protest, echoed by others.

Only Cat Mask laughed.

Feather Cloak regarded Liath coolly. She had eyes as dark as obsidian and a gaze as sharp as a knife.” Few can walk the spheres. None return unchanged from that path."

"This I have seen," said Eldest Uncle, "that if we would live, we must help her discover what she is."

The glow illuminating the Eagle Seat dimmed until it had the delicate luminescence of a seashell. With dimness came a sharpening of smell: dry earth, sour sweat, the faint and distracting scent of water, and the cutting flavor of ginger on her tongue. Liath felt suddenly weary, cut to the heart by that glimpse of Sanglant and H

Blessing, as if her shell of numbness had been torn loose, exposing raw skin.

"Let her return here no more," said Feather Cloak, "but if she can mount the path to the spheres, I will not interfere. When one day and one night have passed, I will send Cat Mask and his warriors in search of her. If they find her in our country, then I will look the other way if they choose to kill her. I have spoken."

"So be it," murmured Eldest Uncle, and the others echoed him as Cat Mask grinned.

IV

IN HASTE

"SHE isn't at all what I remember."

King Henry stood with his granddaughter in his arms at an un-. shuttered window in the royal chambers, attended only by Rosvita, Hathui, four stewards, six guards, and Helmut Villam. Princess Theophanu and four of her ladies sat in the adjoining chamber, playing chess, embroidering, and discussing the tractate Concerning Male Chastity, written by St. Sotheris, which had only recently been translated by the nuns at Korvei Convent from the original Arethousan into Dariyan. Their voices rang out merrily, seemingly immune from care.

Queen Adelheid had escorted Alia and Sanglant outside to show them the royal garden, with its rose beds, diverse herbs, and the aviary that the palace at Angenheim was famous for. Standing beside Henry at the window, with her fingers clamped tight on the sill, Rosvita saw Adelheid's bright gown among the roses. A moment later, she saw Sanglant on his knees by one of the herb plots, fingering petals of comfrey. Brother Heribert knelt beside him and they spoke together, two heads bent in convivial conversation. The contrast between the two men could not have been bolder: n

Sanglant had the bulk and vitality of a man accustomed to armor and horseback and a life lived outdoors, while Heribert, in his cleric's robes, had a slender frame and narrow shoulders. Yet his hands, too, bore the marks of manual labor. How had they met? What did Heribert know that he had not told them?

"She isn't anything like what I remember." Henry's expression grew pensive.”

It's as if that time was a dream I fashioned in my own mind." Blessing had fal en asleep on his shoulder.

"Perhaps it was," observed Rosvita.” Youth is prey to fancy. We are adept at building palaces where none exist."

"I was very young," he agreed.” In truth, Sister, I find it disturbing. I recall my passion so clearly, but when I look at her now, I fear I made a mistake."

A stiff breeze stirred the leaves in the herb bed next to the prince. Laughing, Sanglant stood as Heribert leaped up, startled. The outside air and Heribert's presence had restored the prince to good spirits, yet now he glanced back toward the open window where his father stood. Had he heard them? Surely they stood too far away for their conversation to be overheard.

"Was it a mistake, Your Majesty?" She nodded toward the prince.

"Nay, of course not. Perhaps I am only a little surprised that memory has not served me as well as you have." He smiled with the craft of a regnant who knows when to flatter his advisers, but Rosvita sensed tension beneath the light words.

"You were very young, Your Majesty. God grant us all the privilege of change and growth, if we only use it. You are a wiser man now than you were then, or so I have heard."

He smiled, this time with genuine pleasure. The baby stirred, coming awake.

She yawned, looked around, and said, quite clearly: "Da!" After this unequivocal statement, she frowned up at Henry. She had a clever little face, quite charming, and mobile expressions.” Ba!" she exclaimed. She seemed to have no other mode of speech than the imperious.

"The months do not count out correctly," said Henry.” Nine months for a woman to come to her time, and even if she deliver early, no child will survive before the seventh month. Sanglant and the Eagle left fourteen months ago, yet this child is surely a yearling or even older. But her coloring is like that of the Eagle's, if I am remembering correctly."

"Do not doubt your memory on this account. I also believe the child resembles its mother in some ways. Look at the blue of her eyes! But you are right, Your Majesty. Even if she were a seven months' child, born early, she could therefore be only seven months of age now."

"Come." Henry carried the baby out to the garden, heading for his son, but as soon as he stepped outside the beauty of the autumn foliage and late flowers distracted the child. Rosvita watched as the king surrendered to her imperial commands: each time Blessing pointed to something that caught her eye, he obediently hauled her to that place, and then to another, lowering her down to touch a flower, prying her fingers from a thorny stem, stopping her from eating a withered oak leaf blown over the wall, lifting her up again to point at a flock of geese passing overhead.

He was besotted.

Sanglant had wandered to the garden by the wall where he spoke privately to Brother Heribert. What intrigue might he be stirring up? Yet had Sanglant ever been one for intrigue? He had always been the most straightforward of men.

Still, he made no move to interfere with the capture of his father: Blessing worked her will without obstacle. Queen Adelheid had gone into the aviary.

Rosvita had to admire the young queen: either she was determined to turn Alia into an ally, or else she intended to divert all suspicion while she concocted a plan to rid herself of her rival. It was hard to tell, and even after months of sharing the most difficult of circumstances in Adelheid's company, Rosvita didn't know her well enough to know which was more likely.

But as Rosvita watched Henry dandle the child, her heart grew troubled.

Twilight finally drove them back inside. Adelheid and her attendants came from the mews, Sanglant and Heribert from the garden. Alia lingered outside, alone, to smell the last roses. No one disturbed her. By custom, the feast would continue into the night, but neither Henry nor any in his party seemed inclined to return to the great hall. Too much remained unspoken.

Blessing went to Sanglant at once. She had begun to fuss with n

hunger. A spirited discussion ensued among the attendants on the efficacy of goat's milk over cow's milk to feed a motherless child. He took her outside.

Rosvita went to the window. A cool autumn breeze, woken by dusk, made her shiver. Sanglant avoided his mother and settled down out of her sight on the far side of the old walnut tree.

Adelheid came to stand beside Rosvita. The queen smelled faintly of the mews and more strongly of the rose water she habitually washed in. She had such a wonderful, vividly alive profile that even in the half light of gathering dusk her expressions seemed more potent than anything around them, as bright as the waxing moon now rising over wall and treetops.

"You have acted most graciously, Your Majesty," said Rosvita.

"Have I? Do you think I am jealous of the passion he once felt for her? That was many years ago. Truly, she looks marvelously young for one as old as she must be, but until she explains her purpose here, it is not obvious to me that she possesses anything he now desires or lacks." The young queen's tone had a scrape in it, as at anger rubbing away inside.

"And you do?"

"So I did," she replied bitterly.” As you yourself know, Sister Rosvita, for you came with my cousin Theophanu to seek me out in Vennaci. Yet did you not just see Henry holding in his arms the living heir to Taillefer's great empire? If it is true, what need has Henry for a queen of my line?"

"What manner of talk is this, Your Majesty? Your family's claim to the Aostan throne is without rival."

Adelheid smiled faintly, ironically.” It is true that no noble Aostan family holds a better claim. Certainly the skopos will support me if she can, since she is my aunt. Yet how did my lineage help me after the death of my mother and my first husband, may God have mercy on them? Which of the nobles of Aosta came to my aid when I was besieged? My countryfolk abandoned me to Lord John's tender mercies. I would have become his prisoner, and no doubt his unwilling wife, had you and Princess Theophanu not arrived when you did. What would have happened if Mother Obli-gatia had not taken us in despite the hardship it placed upon her and the nuns in her care? What if she hadn't allowed Father Hugh to use sorcery to aid our escape?"

"What do you mean?" But trouble, like a swift, may stay aloft for a very long time once it has lifted onto the wind.

"I had no rivals before. Now I do."

"Henry has legitimate children, it is true."

"None of whom can claim descent from Emperor Taillefer. Nay, it is clear that Henry favors Sanglant, Sister Rosvita. Henry would have seen me married to Prince Sanglant, had he been given his way a year ago."

Since it was true, Rosvita saw no reason to reply beyond a nod.

"If that was his plan, then he must have hoped that by marrying me, Sanglant would be crowned as king of Aosta. It is understood, I believe, that only a regnant strong enough to claim the regnancy of Aosta can hope to claim the imperial title of Holy Dariyan Emperor as well. Henry hoped to give Sanglant that title. Or so I assume."

"Henry has never hidden his ambitions. He hopes to take that title for himself."

"Certainly he is now entitled to be crowned king of Aosta because he is my husband. But Ironhead still reigns in Darre. Do you not see my position?"

Rosvita sighed. Adelheid was young but not one bit naive. Yet Rosvita could not bring herself to speak one word that might seem unfaithful to Henry.” You are troubled, Your Majesty," she said instead, temporizing, hoping that Adelheid would not go on. But the one trait of youth Adelheid had not yet reined in was impetuous-ness.

"Let us imagine that it is true that this child is the legitimately born heir to Taillefer, his granddaughter two generations removed. I brought Henry the crowns of Aosta. But her claim to Aosta's throne, and to the Crown of Stars Taillefer wore as Holy Dariyan Emperor, is far greater than anything I can confer."

Rosvita glanced back into the room. Two stewards stood by the door, looking bored as they guarded the wine. Various tapestries depicting the life of St.

Thecla hung from the whitewashed walls: witnessing the Ekstasis; debating before the empress; writing one of her famous epistles to far-flung communities; accepting the staff that marked her as skopos, holy mother over the church; the stations of her martyrdom.

Henry had gone with Villam into the adjoining chamber to overI O

see the chess playing, Hathui sticking close to him rather like a falcon on a jess.

Villam leaned with a hand on the back of the chair inhabited by one of Theophanu's favorites, the robust Leoba. Even at his age, he was not above flirting. Indeed, he was currently unmarried and despite his age still an excellent match. Leoba let him move a chess piece for her, Castle takes Eagle.

The game brought Rosvita back to the moves being enacted here and now.”

Surely, Your Majesty, you do not believe that King Henry would put you aside on such slender evidence?"

Adelheid had the grace to blush.” Nay, Sister, do not think me selfish. In truth, I have no fear for myself. I am fond of Henry, and I believe he is fond of me. He is well known for being pious and obedient to the church's law. He will not break a contract now that it has been sealed. But if God are willing and grant us Their blessing, I will have children with him. What is to become of them?"

Now, finally, she saw the battle lines being drawn.” How can I answer such a question, Your Majesty? At best, I may hope that the king hears my voice, and my counsel. I do not speak for him."

"You saved my life and my crown, Sister. I trust you to do what is right, not what is expedient. I know you serve with an honest heart, and that you care only for what benefits your regnant, not for what benefits yourself. That is why I ask you to consider carefully when you advise the king. Think of my position, I pray you, and that of the children I hope to have." She smiled most sweetly and moved away to meet Alia by the door. Beckoning to the stewards, she had a cup of wine brought for the Aoi woman.

"Was that a plea, or a warning?"

Rosvita jumped, scraping a finger on the wooden sill.” You startled me, Brother.

I did not see you come up beside us."

"Nor did the queen," observed Fortunatus.” But she has observed a great deal else. Henry already has grown children who will be rivals to whatever children she bears. Yet she does not fear them as she fears Sanglant."

Rosvita set her hands back on the sill, then winced at the pain in her finger.

"You've caught a splinter," said Fortunatus, taking her hand into his. He had a delicate touch, honed by years of calligraphy.

As he bent over her hand, working the splinter loose, she lowered her voice.”

Do you think she fears Sanglant?"

"Would you not?" he asked amiably.” Ah! There it comes." He flicked the offending splinter away and released her hand. She sucked briefly at the wound as he went on.” He is the master of the battlefield. All acknowledge that. He returns rested and fit, with soldiers already kneeling before him, although only God know when they pledged loyalty to him, who has nothing."

"Nothing but the child."

"Nothing but the child," Fortunatus agreed. The privations of their journey over the mountains to Aosta and their subsequent flight from Ironhead had pared much flesh from Fortunatus' frame. Leanness emphasized his sharp eyes and clever mouth, making him look more dour than congenial, when in fact he was a man who preferred wit and laughter to dry pronouncements. In the last few weeks on the king's progress he had been able to eat heartily, as was his preference, and he was putting on weight. It suited him.” I would say he is the more dangerous for having nothing but the child. He isn't a man who desires things for himself."

"He desired the young Eagle against his father's wishes."

"I pray God's forgiveness for saying so, Sister, but surely he desired her more like a dog lusts after a bitch in heat."

"It's true it is the child who has changed him, not the marriage. You are right when you say he desires no thing for himself, for his own advancement. But what he desires for his child is a different matter."

"Do you think it will come to a battle between him and Queen Adelheid?"

She frowned as she gazed out into the foliage. Wind whipped the branches of the walnut tree under which Sanglant sheltered with Blessing, although no wind stirred the rest of the garden. It seemed strange to her, seeing its restlessness contrasted so starkly with the autumnal calm that lay elsewhere. The prince rose abruptly. Heribert, beside him, asked for the baby and, with reluctance evident in the stiffness of his shoulders, Sanglant handed her over. She was splayed out with that absolute limpness characteristic of a sleeping child. The prince and the frater stood together under the writhing branches, talking together while the baby slept peacefully. Finally, Sanglant looked up arid seemed to address a comment to the heavens. Surely by coincidence, at that very instant, the breeze caught in the branches of the walnut tree ceased.

"What does Prince Sanglant know but war? Did Henry not fight against his own sister? Why should we expect otherwise in the next generation?"

"Unless good counsel and wiser heads prevail," murmured For-tunatus.

Behind them, voices raised as the company who had been seated in the adjoining chamber flooded into the one in which Rosvita and Fortunatus still stood. Rosvita moved away from the window just as Hathui came up to her.

"I pray you, Sister Rosvita," said the Eagle, "the king wishes you to attend him, if you will."

"I would speak with you in private council," Alia was saying to Henry as she looked around the chamber.

Henry merely gestured to the small group of courtiers and nobles and servants attending him, no more than twenty-five people in all.” My dear companions and counselors Margrave Villam and Sister Rosvita are privy to all my most private councils." Deliberately, he extended a hand to invite Adelheid forward. She came forward to stand beside him with a high flush in her cheeks and a pleased smile, quickly suppressed, on her lips.” Queen Adelheid and my daughter, Theophanu, of course will remain with me." He glanced up then, looking around the room. He marked Hathui with his gaze. She needed no introduction nor any excuse; she simply stood solidly a few paces behind him, as always. The others slid back to the walls, making themselves inconspicuous, and he ignored them.” If Sanglant chooses to hear your words, I am sure he will come in from outside."

"You have changed, Henri," Alia replied, not with rancor but as a statement of fact.” You have become the ruler I thought you might become in time. I am not sorry that I chose you instead of one of the others."

He rocked back on his heels as at a blow. Adelheid's small but firm hand tightened on his.” What do you mean? Chose me instead of one of the others?

What others?"

She seemed surprised by his outburst.” Is it not customary among humankind to be making alliances based on lineage, fertility, and possessions? Is this not what you yourself are doing, Henri?" She indicated Adelheid.” When first I am coming back to this world, many of your years ago, I go seeking the one whose name is known even to my people. That is the man you call Emperor Taillefer.

But he is dead by the time I am walking on Earth, and he has left no male descendants. I cannot be making an alliance with a dead man. It is to the living I must look. I am walking far in search of the living. Of all the princes in these lands it is in the Wendish lineage I am seeing the most strength. Therefore I am thinking then that your lineage is the one I seek."

Henry had color in his cheeks, the mark of anger, but his voice betrayed nothing of the irritation that sparked as he narrowed his eyes.” I seem to have misunderstood our liaison. I had thought it was one of mutual passion, and that you were gracious enough to swear that the child you and I got together was of my making as well as yours. So that the child would seal my right to rule as regnant after my father. Do I understand you instead to say that you had another purpose in mind? That you actively sought me or any young prince of a noble line and chose me over the others because of the strength of the kingdom I was meant to rule?"

"Is it different among you, when you contract alliances?" Alia seemed genuinely puzzled.” For an undertaking of great importance, are you not sealing bargains and binding allies who will be bringing the most benefit to your own cause?"

Henry laughed sharply.” Had you some undertaking in mind, Alia, when first you put yourself in my way in Dane? How well I recall that night!"

She gestured toward the garden, dark now except for the light of moon and stars. Inside, the stewards had gotten all the lamps lit. St. Thecla's many figures on the tapestries shimmered in the golden light; her saint's crowns had been woven with silver threads, and the lamplight made them glimmer like moonglow.

"What other undertaking than the making of the child? Was this not our understanding?"

"Truly, it was my understanding. I understood why I needed to get a child, even if the getting of the child came second to my passion for you. But never did I understand that you wanted a child as well." He spoke bitterly.” You abandoned the two of us easily enough. What could you have wanted a child for if you were willing to walk away from him when he was still a suckling babe?"

She walked forward full into the light from the four dragon-headed lamps that hung from hooks in the ceiling to illuminate the

center of the chamber. Despite her tunic, she could not look anything but outlandish, foreign, and wildly unlike humankind.” In him, my people and your people become one."

"Become one?"

"If there is one standing between us who carries both my blood and yours, then there can be hope for peace."

Fortunatus stirred beside Rosvita, and she pressed a hand to his wrist, willing him to remain silent while, around them, Henry's attendants whispered to each other, puzzling over her words.

How could Alia's people seek peace when they no longer lived on Earth, and perhaps no longer lived at all? Of all their fabled kind, Alia alone had walked among them once, some twenty-five years ago, and then vanished utterly, only to reappear now looking no older for the intervening years.

But the years had not left Henry unscarred. He pulled out a rust-colored scrap of cloth and displayed it with angry triumph. Alia recoiled with a pained look on her face, as if the sight of the scrap physically hurt her.

"I held this close to my heart for all these years as a reminder of the love I bore for you!" In those words Rosvita heard the young Henry who, coming into his power, had not always known what to do with it, and not the mature Henry of these days who never lost control.” You never loved me at all, did you?"

"No." His outburst might have been foam flung against a sea wall for all the impact it had.” I made a vow before the council of my own people that I would sacrifice myself for this duty, to make a child who would be born with the blood of both our peoples."

Finally, as if his voice had at last reached his ears, he schooled his expression to the haughty dignity worthy of the regnant.” For what purpose?"

"For an alliance. A child born of two peoples has the hope to live in both their tribes. We are hoping that the boy will be the bridge who will be bringing your people into an alliance with mine. We knew you would not be trusting us. That is why I left him with you, so that you and your people would come to love him. I was thinking he would be raised to be the ruler after you, in the fashion of humankind. In this way our task would be made easy. Now I return and I find him as an exile. Why were you not treating him as you promised to me?"

"I raised him as my own!" cried Henry indignantly.” No man treated a son better! But he was a bastard. His birth gave me the right to the crown, but it granted him nothing save the honor of being trained as a captain for war. I did everything I could, Alia. I would have made him king after me, though everyone stood against me. But he threw it back in my face, all that I offered him, for the sake of that woman!" He was really angry now, remembering his son's disobedience.

Sanglant walked in from the garden. Folk parted quickly to let him through their ranks. He came to rest, standing quietly between the king and the Aoi woman, and all at once the resemblance showed starkly: his father's forehead and chin and height, his mother's high cheekbones and coloring and broad shoulders: two kinds blended seamlessly into one body. But he had nothing of Alia's inhuman posture and cold, harsh nature. In speech and gesture he was entirely his father's child.

"Liath is the great granddaughter of the Emperor Taillefer." Without shouting, Sanglant pitched his voice to carry strongly throughout the long chamber.” Now, truly, my father's people, my mother's people, and the lineage of Emperor Taillefer, the greatest ruler humankind has known, are joined in one person. In my daughter, Blessing." He indicated Brother Heribert, who had come in behind him carrying Blessing.” Is that not so?"

Henry lifted a hand, a slight movement, and his Eagle stepped forward to answer the prince.” What proof have you that the child is born of Taillefer's lineage?" Hathui asked.

"Do you accuse me of lying, Eagle?" he asked softly.” Nay, Your Highness," she replied blandly.” But you may have been misled. Sister Rosvita believes that a daughter was born to Taillefer's missing son. Any woman might then claim to be the lost grandchild of Taillefer."

"Who would know to claim such a thing?" He shook his head impatiently.” This is an argument that matters little. If proof you will have, then I will get proof for you, and after that no person will doubt Blessing's claim."

"Son." How strange to hear Alia's voice speaking that word. It made Sanglant seem a stranger standing among them, rather than a beloved kinsman.” It is true that I was hoping when first I crossed through the gateway into this country to make a child with

a descendant of Taillefer. But it was not to be. That you have done so—" She had a fatalistic way of shrugging, as if to say that her gods had worked their will without consulting her.” So be it. I bow to the will of She-Who-Creates. Let proof be brought and given if humankind have no other way of discerning the truth.

But proof will be mattering little if all of you are dead because of the great cataclysm that will fall upon you."

Most of Henry's retinue still seemed to be staring at Blessing, who had stirred in Heribert's arms, yawning mightily and twisting her little mouth up as she made a sleepy face and subsided again.

But Henry was listening.” What cataclysm do you mean?" He regarded her intently.

"You are knowing an ancient prophecy made by a holy woman among your people, are you not? In it is she not speaking of a great calamity?"

Rosvita spoke, unbidden, as words came entire to her mind. ;' 'There will come to you a great calamity, a cataclysm such as you have never known before. The waters will boil and the heavens weep blood, the rivers will ran uphill and the winds will become as a whirlpool. The mountains shall become the sea and the sea shall become the mountains, and the children shall cry out in terror for they will have no ground on which to stand. And they shall call that time the Great Sundering.'"

"Are you threatening my kingdom?" asked Henry gently.” By no means,"

retorted Alia with a rare flick of anger.” Your people exiled mine ages ago as you know time, and now my people are returning. But the spell woven by your sorcerers will rebound against you threefold. What a cataclysm befell Earth in the long ago days is nothing to what will strike you five years hence, when what was thrown far returns to its starting point."

"Like the arrow Liath shot into the heavens," said Sanglant in a soft voice. He seemed to be speaking to himself, mulling over a memory no one else shared.”

Shot into the sky, but it fell back to earth. Any fool would have known it would do that."

"What mean you by this tale?" demanded Henry.” What do you intend by standing before me now, Alia?"

Alia indicated her own face, its bronze complexion and alien lineaments.” Some among my people are still angry, because the memory of our exile lies heavily on us. After we have returned to Earth, they mean to fight humankind. But some among us seek peace. That is why I came." She stepped forward to rest a hand on Sanglant's elbow.” This child is my peace offering, Henri."

Henry laughed.” How can I believe these wild prophecies? Any madwoman can rave in like manner, speaking of the end times. If such a story were true, then why do none of my studious clerics know of it? Sister Rosvita?"

His outflung hand had the force of a spear, pinning her under his regard.” I do not know, Your Majesty," she said haltingly.” I have seen strange things and heard strange tales. I cannot be sure."

Theophanu spoke up at last.” Do you mean to say, Sister Rosvita, that you believe this wild story of cataclysms? That you think the legendary Aoi were sent into a sorcerous exile?"

"I recall paintings on the wall at St. Ekatarina's Convent. Do you not remember them, Your Highness?"

"I saw no wall paintings at St. Ekatarina's save for the one in the chapel where we worshiped," replied Theophanu with cool disdain.” It depicted the good saint herself, crowned in glory."

"I believe the story," said Sanglant, "and there are others who believe it as well.

Biscop Tallia, the daughter of Emperor Taillefer, spent her life preparing for what she knew would come."

"She was censored by the church at the Council of Narvone,"

pointed out Theophanu.

"Don't be stubborn, Theo," retorted Sanglant.” When have I ever lied to you?"

The barb caught her, but she recovered quickly, smoothing her face into a passionless mask as Sanglant went on.” Biscop Tallia instructed the woman who raised Tail efer's granddaughter and trained her as a mathematici. Taillefer's granddaughter gave birth to Liath. She already works to drive away the Lost Ones again, and to destroy them."

Henry spread his hands wide.” How can it be that Taillefer's granddaughter has not made herself known to the great princes of these realms? How can she live in such obscurity that we have never heard any least rumor of her existence?"

"She is a mathematici," Sanglant observed.” The church condemned such sorcery at the Council of Narvone. Why should she reveal herself if it would only bring her condemnation?" He nodded at Theophanu.

"Where is this woman now?" continued Henry relentlessly.” Where is your wife, Sanglant?"

"Ai, God!" swore Sanglant.” To tell the whole—!" "How can I believe such a story if I do not hear the whole?" asked Henry reasonably.” Wine!" He beckoned, and a steward brought twin chairs, one for Henry and one for Adelheid.” I will listen patiently for as long as it takes you to tell your tale, Son. That is all I can promise."

THERE was to be no more feasting that night, although servants brought delicacies from the kitchen and folk ate as Prince Sanglant told his story haltingly, backtracking at times to cover a point he had missed. He was more disturbed than angry, impatient in the way of a man who is accustomed to his commands being obeyed instantly. A wind had got into the chamber, eddying around the lamps so that they rocked. Shadows juddered on the walls and over the tapestries like boats bobbing on water.

The silence and the jittery shadows made Sanglant's tale spin away into fable. A woman calling herself Anne had approached Liath at Werlida, claiming to be her mother. He and Liath had left with Anne. They had traveled by diverse means and in the company of servants who had no physical substance, no earthly body, to a place called Verna, hidden away in the heart of the Alfar Mountains. There, Liath had studied the arts of the mathematici.

"Condemned sorcery," said Henry, his only comment so far.

"It is her birthright," retorted Sanglant.” You cannot imagine her power—" He broke off, seeing their faces. Too late, he remembered, but Henry had not forgotten. Henry still had not forgiven Liath for stealing his son.

"The Council at Autun, presided over by my sister Constance, excommunicated one Liathano, formerly an Eagle in my service, and outlawed her for the practice of sorcery," said Henry in his quietest and therefore most dangerous voice.” For all I know, she has bewitched you and sent you back to me with this tale of Taille-fer's lost granddaughter to tempt me into giving her daughter a privilege and honor the child does not deserve." He did not look at the sleeping Blessing as he said this.

"What of me?" asked Alia, who had listened without apparent interest.” I am no ally of this Liathano, whom I do not meet or know. I am no ally of these womans who are sorcerers, who mean to do my people harm. That is why I come to you, Henri, to ally against them."

Henry drained his cup of wine and called for another. Beside him, Adelheid sat with the composure of stone. Only her hair moved, tickled by a breeze that wound among the lamps hung from the ceiling.” If I send an embassy to your people, then we can open negotiations."

Alia's jaw tightened as she regarded him with displeasure.” None among your kind can pass through the gateway that leads to our country."

"So you say. But you are here."

She opened her left hand, palm out, to display an old scar cut raggedly across the palm.” I am what you call in your words a sorcerer, Henri."

"Do we not already harbor mathematici among us? They might travel as you did. We are not powerless."

"Father!" protested Theophanu, although she glanced toward Adelheid, "you would not allow condemned magic to be worked for your advantage—?"

Henry lifted a hand to stop her. She broke off, looked at Rosvita, then folded her hands in her lap and regarded the opposite wall— and the tapestry depicting St. Thecla's draught of the holy cup of waters—with a fixed gaze.

"You do not understand the structure of the universe, Henri. I was bom in exile, and for that reason I can travel in the aether. I have walked the spheres. None among you would survive such a journey."

Sanglant's lips moved, saying a word, but he made no sound.

Henry shook his head.” How can I believe such a fantastic story? It might as well be a fable sung by a poet in the feast hall. I and my good Wendish army are marching south to Aosta to restore

Queen Adelheid to her throne. You may march with us, if you will. A place at my table is always reserved for you, Alia." He turned to regard Sanglant, who stood with hands fisted and expression pulled down with impatience. Hereby lay the danger in giving a man command for all his young life; soon he began to expect that no person would gainsay him, even his father.” You, Son, may march with my army as well, if you will only ask for my forgiveness for your disobedience. I will show every honor due to a grandchild of my lineage to your daughter, as she deserves. There is a place for you in my army. If you ask for it."

"You believe none of it," said Sanglant softly.

Henry sipped at his wine, then spun the empty cup in his fingers as he contemplated his son in the same manner he might a rebellious young lord.”

How can I believe such an outrageous story? I am regnant. We had this discussion before. If you wish my forgiveness, you must ask for it. But you know what obligations your duty to me entails."

"Then I will look elsewhere for support."

The words struck the assembly like lightning.

Villam stepped forward.” Prince Sanglant, I beg of you, do not speak rash words—

"I do not speak rashly," said Sanglant harshly.” You have not seen what I have seen. You do not understand Anne's power nor her ruthlessness."

"What do you mean, brother?" asked Theophanu. She had distanced herself so completely from Rosvita after the escape from St. Ekatarina's that Rosvita could no longer even guess what might be going on in her mind.” If your words and the words of your mother are true, then it would appear to me that this woman, Anne, seeks to protect Earth from the Aoi. Why, then, would you act against her unless you have thrown in your lot with your mother's people? This might all be a diversion to aid them."

Blessing woke up crying. She struggled in Heribert's arms, but she wasn't reaching for her father. She was reaching for the middle of the room, tiny arms pumping and face screwed up with frustration.

"Ma! Ma!" she cried, wriggling and reaching so that Heribert could barely keep hold of her as she squirmed.

The air took on form.

Mist congealed at the center of the chamber, in the space ringed by the hanging lamps. Like a window being unshuttered, pale tendrils of mist acted as a frame.

Rosvita staggered, made dizzy by this abrupt displacement of what she knew and understood while all around her the people in the room leaped backward or fled into the other chamber, sobbing in fright. Adelheid rose to her feet. Henry remained seated, but his hand tightened on one of the dragon heads carved into the armrests of his chair.

"Ma!" cried the baby.

There came a voice in answer, faint and so far off that it might have been a dream.

"Blessing!" Changing, made hoarser by pain or sorrow, that disembodied voice spoke again.” Sanglant!"

Sanglant leaped forward.” Liath!" he cried.

Alia grabbed him by the elbow and jerked him back, hard. Her strength was amazing: Sanglant, who stood a good head and a half taller than her, actually staggered backward.

Blessing twisted out of Heribert's arms. Henry cried out a warning as she fell, and Sanglant flung himself toward the baby, but he was too far away to catch her.

But some thing was already under her.

Blessing sank into folds of air that took on a womanlike form, a female with a sensuous mouth, sharp cheekbones, a regal nose, a broad and intelligent forehead, and a thick fall of hair. She was not a human woman but a woman formed out of air, as fluid as water, made of no earthly substance. A veil of mist concealed her womanly parts, but she was otherwise unclothed, and she had the ample breasts of a nursing woman. In her arms, Blessing calmed immediately, and she turned her head to nurse at that unworldly breast.

Henry's face whitened in shock as he rose.” What obscenity is this? What manner of creature nurses the child?"

Sanglant stationed himself protectively in front of the creature.” Liath was too ill to nurse her after the birth. Blessing wouldn't even take goat's milk. She would have died if it had not been for Jerna."

"What is it?" murmured Theophanu. Her ladies, clustered behind her, looked frightened and disgusted, but Theophanu merely regarded the scene with narrowed eyes and a fierce frown.

Everyone backed away except Heribert. Adelheid's hands twitched, and she leaned forward, quite in contrast to Theophanu's disapproving reserve, to stare at the nursing aetherical with lips parted. Hathui remained stoically behind Henry's chair.

"It is a daimone, I believe," said Rosvita. Fortunatus, at her back, whistled under his breath. He had not deserted her.” One of the elementals who exists in the aether, in the upper spheres." "Do such creatures have souls?" asked Adelheid.” The ancient writers believed they did not," murmured Rosvita reflexively. A collective gasp burst from the people pressed back against the far walls. No one spoke. The baby suckled noisily as everyone stared. Ai, Lady! What manner of nourishment did it imbibe from a soulless daimone?

"It is true, then." The mask of stone crashed down to conceal Henry's true feelings.” You have been bewitched, Sanglant, as Judith and her son said. You are not master of your own thoughts or actions. Lavastine was laid under a spell by Biscop Antonia. Now you are a pawn in the hands of the sorcerer who stole you from me. Where is Liathano? What does she want?"

"I pray you, Your Majesty," cried Rosvita, stepping forward. She knew where such accusations would lead.” Eet us make no judgment in haste! Let a council be convened, so that those best educated in these matters can consider the situation with cool heads and wise hearts."

"As they did in Autun?" replied Sanglant with a bitter grimace. He eased Blessing out of the grip of the daimone. The baby protested vigorously, got hold of one of his fingers, and proceeded to suck on it while she stared up at his face.

The daimone uncurled herself; Rosvita knew no other way to explain it—the creature simply uncurled into the air and vanished from sight. Just like that. With a deep breath to steady himself, Henry took a step back and sat.” I will call a council when we reach Darre. Let the skopos herself preside over this matter."

"You expect me to bide quietly at your side?" demanded Sanglant.

"Once you would have done what I asked, Son." "But I am not what I was. You no longer understand what I have become. Nor do you trust me. I have never abandoned this kingdom, nor will I now. I know what needs to be done, and if you will not support me, then I will find those who will act before it is too late."

"Is this rebellion, Sanglant?"

"I pray you," began Rosvita, stepping forward to place herself between the two men, because she could see the cataclysm coming, the irresistible force dashing itself against the immovable object.

"Nay, Sister," said Henry, "do not come between us." She had no choice but to fall silent. She saw in the king certain signs of helplessness before the son he had loved above all his other children, the way his lips quirked unbidden, the tightness of his left hand on the throne's armrest, his right foot tapping on the ground in a rapid staccato.” Let him answer the question."

Sanglant had never been a man to let words get in the way of actions.”

Heribert!" He gathered his daughter more tightly against him and strode to the door with Heribert following obediently at his heels. At the door, he turned to regard his sister.” Theo?"

She shook her head.” Nay, Sanglant. You do not know what I have witnessed. I will not follow you."

"You will in the end," he said softly, "because I know what is coming." His gaze flicked over the others, resting briefly on Rosvita, but to her he only gave a swift and gentle smile.” Counsel wisely, Sister," he said in a low voice. He bowed toward Adelheid, and left.

The lamps swayed. One of the lamps blew out abruptly, with a mocking hwa of air, like a blown breath, and an instant later a second flame shuddered and then was extinguished. All was still.

If not quiet. Everyone began whispering at once.

"I pray you," said Henry in a voice so stretched that it seemed ready to break.

They gave him silence.

"You do not go with him," observed Henry to Alia. She stood by the door that led into the gardens.

She smiled, not a reassuring expression. Lifting a hand, she murmured something under her breath and gestured. At once, the two doused lamps caught flame. As the folk in the room started nervously at this display of magic, she smiled again in that collected way a cat preens itself after catching a particularly fat and juicy mouse.

"He is young and hot-tempered. What I am not understanding is why you are not listening to me, Henri. Is so much knowledge lost to humankind that you refuse to believe me? Do you truly not remember what happened in the long-ago days? I come as—what would you say?—walking as an emissary, from my people to yours. To tell you that many of us are wanting peace, and not wanting war."

"Where are your people? Where have they been hiding?"

She gave a sharp exhalation of disappointment.” I am offering you an alliance now, when you are in a position of strength. Many among our council argued against this, but because I gave of my essence to make the child, I was choosing to come now and they could not be stopping me. I was choosing to give you this chance." She walked to the door and paused by the threshold.” But when I appear before you next, Henri, you will be weak."

She walked out of the chamber. No one tried to stop her.

There came then a long silence. Fortunatus brushed a hand against Rosvita's elbow. From somewhere beyond the garden, she heard a woman's laugh, incongruous because of its careless pleasure. The lamplit glow made the chamber like the work of an ancient sculptor, every statue wrought in wood or ivory at the artisan's pleasure: There sat the regnant with his dark eyes raging in a face as still as untouched water. There stood the queen whose high color could be seen in the golden light of burning lamps. The old lord rubs habitually at the empty sleeve of his tunic, as though at any moment a breath of sorcery will fill it again with his lost arm. The princess has turned away, ivory face in profile, jewels glittering at her neck, and a hand on the shoulder of one of her ladies, caught in the act of whispering a confidence.

The King's Eagle had folded her arms across her chest and she seemed thoughtful more than shocked, as was every other soul. As were they all, all but Henry, whose anger had congealed into the cold fury of a winter's storm. St.

Thecla went her rounds on the tapestries, caught forever in the cycle of her life and martyrdom, an ever-present reminder of the glory of the Word. Villam coughed.

The king rose. He glanced at his Eagle and made a small but significant gesture.

The Eagle nodded as easily as if he had spoken out loud, then left the chamber on an unknown errand.

"I will to my bed." Henry took two strides toward one of the inner doors before he paused and turned back toward Adelheid, but the young queen did not move immediately to follow him.

"Do you believe it to be an impossible story, Sister Rosvita?" she asked.

At first, Rosvita thought she had forgotten how to talk. Her thoughts scattered wildly before she herded them in.” I would need more evidence. Truly, it is hard to believe."

"That does not mean it cannot be true." Adelheid glanced toward the garden.

The cool wind of an autumn night curled into the room, making Rosvita shudder.

What if it brought another dai-mone? "We have seen strange sights, Sister Rosvita. How is this any stranger than what we have ourselves witnessed?" She beckoned to her ladies and followed Henry into the far chamber.

"You have won Queen Adelheid's loyalty," said Theophanu to Rosvita.” But at what cost? And for what purpose?"

"Your Highness!"

Theophanu did not answer. She retreated with her ladies into the chamber where they had been playing chess, and where beds and pallets were now being set up for their comfort.

How had it come to this?

"Do not trouble yourself, Sister," whispered Fortunatus at her back.” I do not think Princess Theophanu's anger at you will last forever. She suffers from the worm of jealousy. It has always gnawed at her."

"What do you mean, Brother?"

"Do you not think so?" he replied, surprised at her reaction.” Nay, perhaps I am wrong. Certainly you are wiser than I am, Sister."

Servants and guards dispersed to their places, but Villam lingered and, at last, came forward, indicating that he wished to speak to Rosvita in complete privacy.

Fortunatus moved away discreetly to oversee the night's preparations.

"Do you believe their story?" Villam asked her. The lamplight scoured the wrinkles from his face so that he resembled more than ever his younger self, hale and vigorous and handsome enough to attract a woman's gaze for more reason than his title and his estales. Hadn't she looked at him so, when she had been a very young woman come to court for the first time and dazzled by its splendors? In her life, few men had tempted her in this manner, for God had always kept a steadying hand on her passions, and Villam respected God, and the church, and a firm 'No.' They had shared a mutual respect for many years.

"I cannot dismiss it out of hand, Villam. Yet it seems too impossible to believe outright."

"You are not one to take fancies lightly, Sister, nor do you succumb to any least rumor. What will you advise the king?"

"I will advise the king not to act rashly," she said with a bitter laugh.” Villam, is it possible you can go now and speak to Prince Sanglant?"

"I will try." He left.

The king's particular circle of clerics, stewards, and servingfolk had the right to sleep in his chambers, and Rosvita herself had a pallet at her disposal. Despite this comfortable bed, she spent a restless night troubled by dreams.

A pregnant woman wearing a cloak of feathers and the features of an Aoi queen sat on a stone seat carved in the likeness of an eagle. Behind her, a golden wheel thrummed, spinning her into a cavern whose walls dripped with ice.

Villam's lost son Berthold slept in a cradle of jewels, surrounded by six attendants whose youthful faces bore the peaceful expression known to those angels who have at last seen God. But the golden calm draped over their repose was shattered when a ragged band of soldiers blundered into their resting hal , calling out in fear and wonder. Ai, God, did one of those frightened men have Ivar's face? Or was it Amabilia, after all, come to visit her again?

Amabilia was dead. Yet how could it be that she could still hear her voice?

"Sister, I pray you, wake up."

Fortunatus bent over her. A faint light limned the unshuttered window and open door that led out into the garden. Birds trilled their morning song.

Soldiers had come to wake the king. Henry emerged from his bedchamber with a sleepy expression. He was barefoot. A serving-man fussed behind him, offering him a belt for his hastily thrown on tunic.

"Your Majesty! Prince Sanglant just rode out of the palace grounds with more than fifty men-at-arms and servants in attendance. He took the road toward Bederbor, Duke Conrad's fortress."

Henry blinked, then glanced at Helmut Villam, who at that moment walked into the room.” Did no one make any effort to stop him?"

The sergeant merely shrugged helplessly, but Villam stepped forward.” I spoke to him."

"And?"

Villam shook his head.” I advise you to let it rest for now."

"Bring me my horse," said Henry.

Before the others could rouse, he was off. Rosvita made haste to follow him, and she reached the stables just in time to commandeer a mule and ride after him. Besides a guard of a dozen soldiers, he rode alone except for Hathui, whom he engaged in a private conversation. When Rosvita caught up with the group, he glanced her way but let her accompany him without comment.

At first, she thought he meant to pursue his son, but once past the palace gates they took a different track, one that led past the monastery and into the forest, down a narrow track stil lush with summer's growth.

The path wound through the forest. Alder wood spread around them, leaves turning to silver as the autumn nights chilled them. A network of streams punctuated the thick vegetation, low-lying willow and prickly dewberry amid tussocks of woundwort and grassy sedge. A rabbit bounded away under the cover of dogwood half shed of its leaves. The hooves of the horses made a muffled sound on the loamy track. Through a gap in the branches, she saw a buzzard circling above the treetops.

The track gave out abruptly in a meadow marked by a low rise where a solemn parade of hewn stones lay at odd angles, listing right or left depending on the density of the soil. One had fallen over, but the main group remained more or less intact.

"Here?" asked Henry.

"This far." Hathui indicated the stone circle.” She went in. She did not come out, nor have I seen any evidence she walked through the stones and on into the forest beyond. There isn't a path, nothing but a deer track that's mostly overgrown."

He beckoned to Rosvita.” Your company passed through one of these gateways, Sister. Could it not be that the Aoi have hidden themselves in some distant corner of Earth, biding their time?"

"It could be, Your Majesty. But with what manner of sorcery I cannot know."

"Yet there remain mathematici among us," he mused, "who may serve us as one did Adelheid."

She shuddered, drawing in a breath to warn him against sorcery, but he turned away, so she did not speak. Light spread slowly over the meadow, waking its shadows to the day, and these rays crept up and over the king until he was wholly illuminated. The sun crowned him with its glory as he stared at the silent circle of ancient stones. A breeze stirred his hair, and his horse stamped once, tossed its head, and flicked an ear at a bothersome fly. He waited there, silent and watchful, while Hathui made a final circuit of the stones.

"What news of the mountains?" he asked as the Eagle came up beside him at last.

"Most reports agree that the passes are still clear. It's been unseasonably warm, and there is little snow on the peaks. If God will it, we will have another month of fair weather. Enough to get through the mountains."

On the ride back he sang, inviting the soldiers to join in. Afterward, he spoke to them of their families and their last campaign. At the stables, a steward was waiting to direct him to the chapel where Adelheid, Theophanu, and their retinues knelt at prayer.

Henry strode in like fire, and Adelheid rose to greet him with an answering strength of will. Theophanu waited to one side with inscrutable patience as the king made a show of greeting his fair, young queen. But he did not neglect his daughter. He kissed her on either cheek and drew her forward so that every person, and by now quite a few had crowded into the chapel, would note her standing at his right side.

"Theophanu, you will remain in the north as my representative." He spoke with the king's public voice, carrying easily over the throng. The news carried in murmurs out the door and into the palace courtyard, where people gathered to see how Henry would react to the news of Sanglant's departure.

What Theophanu's expression concealed Rosvita could no longer guess. Was she glad of the opportunity or angry to be left behind again? She only nodded, eyes half shuttered.” As you wish, Father."

Henry extended an arm and took Adelheid's hand in his, drawing her forward to stand by his left side, as he would any honored ally.” Tomorrow," he said, addressing the court with a sharp smile, "we continue our march south, to Aosta."

LIGHT lay in such a hard, brilliant sheen over the abandoned city that Liath had to shade her eyes as she and Eldest Uncle emerged out of the cave into heat and sunlight. The stone edifices spread out before her, as silent as ghosts, color splashed across them where walls and square columns had been painted with bright murals. She retrieved her weapons from the peace stone and the water jar from the pyramid of skulls. Her hands were still unsteady, her entire soul shaken.

She and Da had run for so many years, hunted and, in the end, caught. She had been exiled from the king's court, yet had not found peace within her mother's embrace. Now this place, too, was closed to her. Was there any place she would ever be welcome? Could she ever find a home where she would not be hounded, hunted, and threatened with death?

Not today.

The huge carved serpent's mouth lay empty, although she heard the incomprehensible sound of the councillors' distant conversation, muted by the labyrinthine turnings of the passageway, each one like a twist of intrigue in the king's court, muffling words and intent.

"I have been given a day and a night," she said to the old sorcerer. She had learned to keep going by reverting to practical matters.” Can I walk the spheres in that length of time?"

"Child, the span of days as they are measured on Earth has no meaning up among the spheres. You must either return to Earth, or walk the spheres."

"Or wait here and die."

He chuckled.” Truly, even with such meager powers of foretelling as I possess, I do not predict that is the fate which awaits you."

"What fate awaits me, then?"

He shrugged. Together they walked back across the city toward the bank of mist.” You are new to your power," he said finally.” The path that leads to the spheres may not open for you."

"And the burning stone may remain hidden. What then? Will Cat Mask choose to hunt me down?" "He surely will. Given the chance."

"Then I must make sure he is not given the chance." The silence hanging over the abandoned city made her voice sound like nothing more than the scratch of a mouse's claws on the stone paving of a vast cathedral.” I could return to Earth."

"So you could," he replied agreeably. He whistled, under his breath, a tune that sounded like the wandering wind caught among a maze of reed pipes.

"Then I would be reunited with my husband and child." "Indeed you would, in that case."

"My daughter is growing. How many days are passing while we speak here together? How many months will pass before I see her again?" Her voice rose in anger.” How can I wait here, how can I even consider a longer journey, when I know that Sister Anne and her companions are preparing for what lies ahead?"

"These are difficult questions to answer." His calm soothed her.” Of course, if this land does not return to its place, there might be other unseen consequences, ones that aren't as obvious as a great cataclysm but that are equally terrible." "So there might."

"But, in fact, no one knows what will happen." "No one ever knows what will happen," he replied, "not even those who can divine the future."

She glanced at him, but could not read anything in his countenance except peace. He had a mole below one eye, as though a black tear had frozen there.”

You're determined to agree with me."

"Am I? Perhaps it is only that you've said nothing yet that I can disagree with."

They walked a while more in silence. She pulled one corner of her cloak up over her head to shade her eyes. The somber ranks of stairs, the platforms faced with skull-like heads and gaping mouths or with processions of women wearing elaborate robes and complicated headdresses, the glaring eye of the sun, al these wore away at her until she had an ache that throbbed along her forehead.

The beat of her heart pulsed annoyingly in her throat. When they came to the great pyramid, she sank down at its foot, bracing herself against one of the monstrous heads. She set a hand on a smooth snout, a serpent's cunning face extruding from a petaled stone flower. Sweat trickled down her back. Heat sucked anger out of her. She would have taken off her cloak, but she needed it to keep her head shaded. The old sorcerer crouched at the base of the huge staircase, rolling his spear between his hands.

"Did you use magic to build this city?" she asked suddenly.

His aged face betrayed nothing, "Is the willingness to perform backbreaking labor a form of magic? Are the calculations of priests trained in geometry and astronomy more sorcery than skill? Perhaps so. What is possible for many may seem like magic when only a few contemplate the same amount of work."

"I'm tired," said Liath, and so she was. She shut her eyes, but under that shroud of quiet she could not feel at peace. She saw Sanglant and Blessing as she had seen them through the vision made out of fire: the child—grown so large!—

squirming toward her and Sanglant crying out her name.” I'm so tired. How can I do everything that is asked of me?"

"Always we are tied to the earth out of which we came whether we will it or not.

What you might have become had you the ability to push all other considerations from your heart and mind is not the same thing that you will become because you can never escape your ties to those for whom you feel love and responsibility."

"What I am cannot be separated from who I am joined to in my heart."

He grunted. She opened her eyes just as he gripped the haft of his spear and hoisted himself up to his feet. A man ran toward them along the broad avenue with the lithe and powerful lope of a predator. As he neared, she felt a momentary shiver of terror: dressed in

the decorated loincloth and short cloak ubiquitous among the Aoi males, he had not a human face but an animal one. An instant later she recognized Cat Mask.

He had pulled his mask down to conceal his face. In his right hand he held a small, round, white shield and in his left a wooden sword ridged with obsidian blades.

She leaped up and onto the stairs, grabbed her bow, slipped an arrow free, and drew, sighting on Cat Mask. Eldest Uncle said nothing, made no movement, but he whistled softly under his breath. Oddly enough, she felt the wind shift and tangle around her like so many little fingers clutching and prying.

Cat Mask slowed and, with the grace of a cat pretending it meant to turn away from the mouse that has escaped it, halted a cautious distance away.” I am forbidden to harm you this day!" he cried. The mask muffled his words.

"Is that meant to make me trust you?" She didn't change her stance.

After a moment he wedged the shield between arm and torso and used his free hand to lift his mask so that she could see his face. He examined her with the startled expression of a man who has abruptly realized that the woman standing before him has that blend of form and allurement that makes her attractive. She didn't lower her bow. Wind teased her arrow point up and down, so she couldn't hold it steady. With an angry exclamation she sought fire in the iron tip and let it free. The arrow's point burst into flame. Cat Mask leaped backw^d quite dramatically.

Eldest Uncle laughed outright, hoisting his spear. The bells tied to its tip jangled merrily.” So am I answered!" he cried. He frowned at Cat Mask.” Why have you followed us, Sour One?"

"To make you see reason, Old Man. Give her over to me now and I will make sure that she receives the fate she deserves. Humankind are not fit for an alliance with us. They will never trust us, nor any person tainted by kinship to us."

"Harsh words," mused Eldest Uncle as Liath -kept Cat Mask fixed in her sight while the arrow's point burned cheerfully.” Is it better to waste away here? Do you believe that your plans and plots will succeed even if nothing hinders our return? Have we numbers enough to defeat humankind and their allies, now that they are many and we are few?"

"They fight among themselves. As long as they remain divided, we can defeat them."

"Will they still quarrel among themselves when faced with our armies? Do not forget how much they hated us before."

"They will always hate us!" But even as he said those words, he glanced again at Liath. She knew the expression of men who felt desire; she had seen it often enough to recognize it here. Cat Mask struggled with unspoken words, or maybe with disgust at his own susceptibility. Like Sanglant, he had the look of a man who knows how to fight and will do so. He was barely as tall as Liath but easily as broad across the shoulders as Sanglant, giving him a powerful, impressive posture.” And we will always hate them!"

His expression caught in her heart, in that place where Hugh still presided with his beautiful face and implacable grip.

"Hate makes you weak." Her words startled him enough that he met her gaze squarely for the first time.” Hate is like a whirlpool, because in the end it drags you under." With each word, she saw more clearly the knots that bound her to Hugh, fastened first by him, certainly, but pulled tighter by her.” That which you allow yourself to hate has power over you. How can you be sure that all humankind hates your people stil ? How can you be sure that an envoy offering peace won't be listened to?"

He snarled.” You can never understand what we suffered."

The flame at the tip of the arrow flickered down and snapped out, leaving the iron point glowing with heat. With deliberate slowness, to make it a challenge, she lowered the bow.” You don't know what I can or cannot understand. You are not the only one who has suffered."

"Ask those who are dead if they want peace with humankind. How can we trust the ones who did this to us?"

"The ones who did this to you died so long ago that most people believe you are only a story told to children at bedtime."

He laughed, not kindly, and took a step forward.” You are clever with words, Bright One. But I will still have your blood to make my people strong."

Resolve made her bold and maybe reckless as she gestured toward the heavens with Seeker of Hearts.” Catch me if you can, Cat Mask. Will you walk the spheres at my heels, or do you prefer to

face me after I have returned from the halls of power, having learned the secret language of the stars?"

Cat Mask hissed in surprise, or disapproval. Or maybe even fear.

Eldest Uncle set down his spear with a thump.” So be it." He raised the spear and shook it so the bells rattled, as though to close the circle and end the conversation.” Go," he said to Cat Mask. It was a measure of the respect granted him as the last survivor, the only Ashioi who had seen the great cataclysm personally, that when he spoke a single command, a warrior as bold as Cat Mask obeyed instantly.

They watched him jog away down the length of the avenue. When he was distant enough that he posed no immediate threat, Eldest Uncle set foot on the stairs. Liath followed, using her bow to steady herself as they climbed higher on those frighteningly narrow steps. She caught her breath at the broad platform that defined its height before they descended the other side and passed into the mist, traversing the borderlands quickly and emerging at the lonely tower.

The unnatural silence of the sparse grassland, with its thorny shrubs and lowlying pale grasses, tore at her heart. Like a mute, the land could no longer speak in the many small voices common to Earth. The stillness oppressed her. Light made gold of the hillside as they waited up and over the height, bypassing the watch-tower. She was grateful to come in under the scant shade afforded by the pines. Even the-wind had died. Heat drenched them. A swipe of her hand along the back of her neck came away dripping.

She halted at the forest's edge, such as it was, breaking from pine forest into scrub and giving way precipitously to the hal ucinatory splendor of the flowering meadow.

Under the shadow of the pines she slid her bow back into its case and let the spray of color ease her eyes. Eldest Uncle stood beside her without speaking or moving, beyond the thin whistle blown under his breath and an occasional tinkle of bells as he shifted the haft of his spear on the needle-strewn ground.

"How do I walk the spheres?" she asked finally, when Eldest Uncle seemed disinclined to move onward or to say anything at all.” Where do I find the path that will lead me there?"

"You have already walked it." He gestured toward the flower trail that led down to the river.” Why do you think I bide here, out of all the places in our land? This place is like a spring, the last known to us, where water wells up from hidden roots. Here the land draws life from the universe beyond, because the River of Light that spans the heavens touches our Earth at this place."

Wind stirred the flowers. Cornflowers bobbed on their high stalks, and irises nodded. The breeze murmured through crooked rows of lavender that cut a swathe of purple through tangles of dog roses and dense clusters of bright peonies. Marigolds edged the trail, so richly gold that sunlight might have been poured into them to give them color.

The view humbled her.” I thought you camped here because of the burning stone." She gestured toward the river, and the clearing that lay beyond it, where she had first crossed into this land.

"There are many places within our land where a gateway may open at intervals we cannot predict. It is true that the clearing in which I wait and meditate is one of those. But it is this place that I guard."

"Guard against what?"

"Go forward. You have walked this trail many times in these last days."

Wind cooled the sweat on her forehead and made the flowers dance and sway in a delirious mob of colors. Why hesitate?

Reflexively, she checked her gear, all that she had brought with her, everything and the only things she now possessed: cloak and boots, tunic and leggings; a leather belt, small leather pouch, and sheathed eating knife; her good friend Lucian's sword; the gold torque that lay heavily at her throat; the gold feather that Eldest Uncle had once given to her, now bound to an arrow's haft; the griffin quiver full of strong iron-pointed arrows and her bow. Seeker of Hearts; the lapis lazuli ring through which Alain had offered her his protection. The water jar did not belong to her, so she set it down on the path. When she stepped forward, crossing from shadow into sun, the blast of the sun hit her so hard she staggered back, raising a hand to shield herself.

Something wasn't right. Hadn't she learned more than this, even in her short time here in the country of the Aoi? Every spell, drawn out of an interaction with the hidden architecture of the universe, must be entered into correctly and departed from correctly, just as all things have a proper beginning and a proper ending.

By what means did a sorcerer ascend into the spheres? How could any person ascend into the heavens in bodily form, because the heavens were made up of aether, light, wind, and fire? Mortal substance was not meant to walk there.

Would she have to study many days and weeks and even months more, before she could walk the spheres and seek out her true power? Even if she ought to, she could not wait.

On Earth, days and weeks passed with each breath she exhaled here in this country. In the world beyond, her child grew and her husband waited, Anne schemed and Hugh flourished and Hanna rode long distances at the mercy of forces greater than herself. What of the Lions who had befriended her? What of Alain, whom she had last seen staggering, half dead, through the ruins of a battlefield? Where was he now? How could she leave them struggling alone?

How much longer would she make them wait for her?

In one day and one night, as measured in this country, Cat Mask and his warriors would come hunting her.

It was time for her to go.

Yet how did one reach the heavens?

With a ladder.

She shut her eyes. Wind curled in her hair like the brush of Da's fingers, stroking her to sleep. Ai, God, Da had taught her exactly what she needed, if she had only believed in him.

She knelt to set he"" palm against the earth. As she rested there for the space of seven breaths, she let her mind empty, as Eldest Uncle had taught her. Dirt lay gritty against her skin. When she let her awareness empty far enough, she actually felt the pulse of the land through her hand, thin and fragile, worn to a thread. But it was still there. The land was still, barely, alive.

With a finger, she traced the Rose of Healing into the dirt, brushing aside dried-up needles and desiccated splinters of pine bark so that the outline made a bold mark on the path. Heat rose from that outline, and she stood quickly to step over it and into the sunlight.

At first her voice sounded hesitant and weak, a frail reed against the ocean of silence that lay over the land.

"By this ladder the mage ascends: First to the Rose, whose CHILD or FLAME i touch is healing." She took two more steps before bending to trace the next sigil into the dirt.” Then to the Sword, which grants us strength."

Three steps she forged forward now, and either perhaps the heat had increased or maybe only the strong hammer of the sun was making her light-headed, because some strange disturbance had altered the air around her so that the air resisted her passage as porridge might, poured down from the sky.

She crouched, and drew.” Third comes the Cup of Boundless Waters."

When she straightened, the flowers flowing out from either side of the trail had taken on a shimmering, unearthly cast, as though they bloomed with something other than material substance. Poppies flared with impossible scarlet richness.

Lilacs lay a tender violet blush over swaying green stalks, shading into the complicated aftertones seen at sunset, although the sun still rode high above her.

She pressed forward four steps as a hazy glamour rose off the path like mist.

Through this soft fog she reached, searching for the ground at her feet. It was hard now to see the path beneath her, but the dirt felt the same. Into the cool soil she traced the next pattern.

"Fourth lies the blacksmith's Ring of Fire."

Fog billowed up along the path, swirling around her knees as she took five steps forward. Ahead, through the hazy shimmer that now lay over the meadow, she saw the river. A figure stood on the far bank, caught in a moment of indecision among the rocks at the ford. Even from this distance, Liath recognized the stocky body and distinctive face of one of the Ashioi, but the woman was dressed so strangely, in human clothing, with human gear. She looked utterly out of place and yet entirely familiar as she gazed at the scene unfolding before her.

The fragrance of roses surrounded Liath, so dense it made her woozy.

Was it dizziness? Or was that Ashioi woman actually wearing Liath's other tunic, the one she had folded away into the saddlebags thrown over Resuelto's back just before she and Sanglant and the baby had tried to make their escape from Verna?

It was too late to stop now. She couldn't pause to find out the answer. She had to go on.

She knelt, and drew. Rising, she spoke as she walked.” The Throne of Virtue follows fifth."

The field of flowers expanded around her as though the clearing had breached the bounds holding it to the earth and had begun to spread up actually into the sky. Cornflowers burned with a pale blue-fire luminescence, blazing lanterns, each one like a shard of the burning stone cracked and shattered and strewn among the other flowers. Through this dizzying terrain she took six steps. It was both hard to keep to the path and yet somehow impossible to step off of it.

"Wisdom's Scepter marks the sixth."

She was almost to the river. Ahead, the flower trail melded and became one with the river itself, but the river no longer resembled an earthly river, bound by its rock bed. Like the River of Heaven, it streamed up into the sky, a deep current pouring upward, all blue and silver. Vaguely, beyond it, or below it, she saw the shadows of those things that still stood on the land: a pale figure more shade than substance, algae-covered rocks whose chaotic patterns nevertheless seemed to conceal unspoken secrets, withered trees so dark that they seemed lifeless.

She must not pause to look back. Her feet touched the water, yet it was not water that swirled around her calves as she took seven steps forward. She waded into a streaming river of aether that flowed upward to its natural home.

When she thrust her hand into its depths, the currents pooled around her, swift and hot.

She traced the outlines of the final sigil, the crown of stars. Where her hand drew, the blue-silver effluence surged away with sparks of gold fire.

"At the highest rang seek the Crown of Stars, the song of power revealed."

She climbed the River of Light.

The path opened before her, the great river spoken of by so many of the ancient writers. Was it the seam that bound together the two hemispheres of the celestial sphere, as Theophrastus wrote? Or was the theory of Posidonos the correct one, that by its journey through the heavens it brought heat to the cold reaches of the universe?

Or was it only the ladder linking the spheres? She toiled upward, the current pushing her on from behind. Beneath her feet the land dropped away into darkness. Above, stars shone and yet began to fade into a new luminescence, one with a steely white light like that of a great, shining wall, the boundary that marked the limit of the lowest sphere. Low, like the delicate thrumming of plucked harp strings, she heard an eerie music more pulse than melody.

Rivulets sprang away from the main stream, so that the river itself became a labyrinth winding upward. On the currents of aether, insubstantial figures shaped in a vaguely humanlike form but composed of no mortal element danced in the fields of air through which these rivulets ran. The daimones of the lower sphere, those that lived below the Moon. If they saw her, they gave no sign. Their dance enraptured them, caught in the music of the spheres The thin arch of a gateway manifested in the shining wall that marked the limit of the sky. With a shock like the sight of a beloved kinsman thought dead but standing alive before her, she recognized this place. She had known it all along. Da had trained her in its passages, in the spiraling path that led ever upward. Although the way seemed obscure and veiled before her, she had a feeling very like that of homecoming as she ascended to the first gate, the gate she knew so well from the city of memory in whose architecture Da had trained her.

Had he known that the city of memory reflected, like a hazy image in a pond, the true structure of the universe? Or had he merely taught her what others had taught him, and by this means passed on to her what had remained hidden to generations of magi before him?

No matter.

She knew where she was going now. Each gate was part of the crossroads that linked the worlds.

As though her thought itself had the power of making, an archway built of aether and light flowed into existence against the shining wall. Before it stood a guardian, a daimone formed out of the substance of air and armed with a glittering spear as pale as ice.

"To what place do you seek entrance?" Its voice was as soft as the flow of water through a grassy side channel.

"I mean to cross into the sphere of the Moon," she replied, determined not to quail before this heavenly creature.

"Who are you, to demand entrance?"

She knew well the power of names.” I have been called Bright One."

It stepped back from her, as though the words had struck it like a blow, but kept its spear fixed across the gateway.” Child of Flame," it whispered, "you have too much mortal substance. You are too heavy to cross. What can you give me to lighten your load?"

Even as it spoke, she felt the truth of its words. Her belongings dragged on her and, in another instant, she would plunge back to earth—or into the Abyss, falling forever. She had no wings.

Swiftly, she tugged off her boots and unpinned her cloak. As they fell away, she rose. A breath of aether picked her up bodily, and the guardian faded until she saw it only as a spire of ice sparkling by the gateway.

The way lay open.

She did not look back as she stepped over the threshold.