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  He wrapped me in a bear hug, stroking my hair gently. That broke the dam inside me, and I found myself once again weeping as I had that once with Grey—uncontrollable, bone-rattling sobs that yet made no noise.

  “The strain,” Yallick said in a soft voice, almost a whisper. “You are terribly confused. More, I think, than you realize.”

  “Not exactly a surprise.” I felt Oleeda’s hands gently kneading my shoulders. “We do not yet know all that she has been through. We should try the healing now.”

  I pulled away from Yallick. Try? What did she mean, try?

  Yallick’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “No. Not yet. All three of us must husband our strength, Donavah most of all.” He placed an arm around my shoulders. “Come. Sleep now,” he said, leading me toward the pallets where Traz lay still sound asleep.

  I bent down and scooped up the covers in my arms. Yallick watched, a concerned frown furrowing his brow, as I stalked over to Xyla. She gave a small snort—in amusement, it seemed—as I settled myself between her front legs, as if they were a nest built solely for my comfort.

  As if Oleeda understood my need to assert myself, even if only in this small way, she shushed Yallick when he started to object. I watched them move closer to the fire and sit down. Oleeda poured cups of what must be herb tea, and they began to speak softly. I couldn’t distinguish words, and soon the solemn, even tone of their voices lulled me to sleep.

  Where I dreamed of being Queen. I had the power of life and death over everyone, from the lowliest serving child to the greatest nobles and magicians in the land. All quaked before my wrath. Men from beyond the waters sought my hand in marriage, and I joyed in spurning them all. I hosted lavish entertainments where knights wrestled, raced, fenced, and sparred for my attention; where the orchestra played until dawn as all danced at my command; where we feasted, and laughed, and drank, and sang. But never hunted.

  I awoke to find Traz standing over me, hands on hips and an exaggerated scowl on his face.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t wake me up last night,” he said, and despite the pout he wore, there was a giggle in his voice.

  I pushed myself up and rubbed my eyes with my fists. I started to smile at him, then broke into a huge yawn. Daylight poured into the cave. I’d slept a long time, but strange dreams had prevented me from getting any real rest.

  “It’s been very dull hanging around with ol’ Yallick, so you’d better start telling me everything about your adventures right away.”

  “Your impertinence will avail you nothing,” Yallick said from the table, where he was ladling porridge into a bowl.

  Traz rolled his eyes, and I grinned. Say what they might to and about each other, I could sense that somehow, they’d grown attached to one another.

  “Come, Donavah,” Yallick continued. “You must eat now to build up your strength.”

  I climbed out of my makeshift bed. The air in the cavern was cold, despite the roaring fire near the front, and I shivered. Traz and I walked over to the table and sat down.

  “So, tell me everything,” Traz demanded again as he poured tea into a cup. “I want to hear every detail.” He sipped at the tea and looked at me expectantly.

  I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t tell him what had happened, and Yallick didn’t seem inclined to do so for me. Oleeda would surely have come to the rescue, but she wasn’t here. In the end I just shrugged, looked away, and picked up my bowl between my still-clenched fists.

  As the porridge slid down my throat, it had the strange effect of making me feel hungrier. I hadn’t been eating a lot lately, but neither had I been starving myself. I practically drank down the whole lot, and I’d scarcely set the bowl on the table before Yallick spooned more into it.

  When I picked up the bowl the second time, I found Traz staring at my hands with a hurt expression on his face. I very much wanted to explain, but, unaccountably, even more I wanted to eat. After a third helping, Yallick muttered, “Worked even better than I expected.”

  I set the bowl down heavily and scowled at him.

  “Well,” he shrugged and turned away, “I needed to make sure you would eat.”

  I would have thrown something at him if I could have been certain it would’ve hit him. Then . . .

  “Nobody ever tells me anything!” Traz shouted, jumping to his feet. “I hate you all!” And he went tearing out of the cave without even picking up his cloak. I rose to go after him, but Yallick stopped me.

  “You eat some more. I will take care of our young friend.”

  I tried to do as he told me, but my stomach was now so full that I couldn’t force down another mouthful, no matter what kind of spell Yallick had mixed into the food.

  When they returned about ten minutes later, Yallick had obviously told Traz what had happened. Well, as much of it as he knew, anyway. Or cared to share.

  Traz sat back down. “Sorry, Donavah,” he muttered, looking embarrassed. I smiled and reached across the table to tousle his hair with my fist. He gave me a shy smile back.

  Oleeda walked in then, carrying several bundles of herbs. “I think I found everything we need,” she said, striding toward the rear of the cave. “Did she eat?”

  “She did,” Yallick said. “I made sure of it.”

  A flash of anger rose up inside me, but I forced it down.

  Traz hastily gulped his breakfast, gathered his cloak and staff, and made ready to leave. “I hope it all goes well. And you, old man,” he said, as he passed Yallick on his way out, “you take care of her.”

  “I will, Traz.” Yallick spoke surprisingly gently. “You may trust that I will.”

  Their eyes locked for a moment, then Traz nodded once, turned, and left. When he was gone, Yallick sat at the table with me.

  “Oleeda and I have much to do to prepare. A powerful spell like this—” he pointed at my hands, “—requires an even more powerful counterspell. We must concentrate on what we do.” He paused, as if he expected some kind of response, so I nodded. “This will be an ordeal for all of us, Donavah. I will be honest with you and say that I do not know what to expect. But we must try. Do you trust us?”

  I considered. If he and Oleeda had no idea what to expect, I had even less. Trust didn’t seem to be much of an issue. I couldn’t live the rest of my life like this, could I? I must let them try and hope they would succeed. Things couldn’t get worse. I nodded solemnly.

  “That is good. Stay by the fire to keep warm. And be patient. This will take time.”

  About that, he wasn’t kidding. I sat with the fire behind me, watching Yallick and Oleeda prepare. Xyla lay stretched out along the side of the cave seemingly intent on the dance that the two mages wove.

  Oleeda placed candles in a circle, then examined her work. She moved one slightly to the left, another a bit back, yet another farther in, until she was satisfied that they were perfectly situated. Meanwhile, Yallick scratched a complicated design into the dirt floor. Back and forth, round and round. They moved with a rhythm that seemed unconscious.

  Eventually, when I began to wonder what more they could possibly need to do, Yallick came to me. First he pulled a small branch from the fire, then he took my hand and led me to the circle.

  Oleeda took the branch and moved around the circle lighting the tapers. There was one of each color of meditation candle. Yallick chanted in a language that I didn’t understand at first but soon recognized as Zahrainian, which I’d studied back at Roylinn. “Power,” “light,” and “life” were several of the words I thought I picked out of the unfamiliar stream.

  When Oleeda had completed the circuit and all the candles were burning brightly, she stood next to me and joined Yallick in the chant.

  Then he went around the circle in the opposite direction, dropping a pinch of powder onto each flame. The powder ignited with a small p
op and released an odor that was an unidentifiable mix of herbs. By the time he returned to my side, the air was thick and fragrant.

  Yallick stepped into the circle, reached for my hand, and drew me in. He positioned me in the exact center and stood behind me.

  The cave went quiet as he and Oleeda stopped chanting, the only noise an occasional snap from the fire. Oleeda went around the circle dropping more of the powder onto the candles. Yallick took my hands in his and raised them until my arms were straight out to my sides. He began to chant again while Oleeda made yet another round with the powder.

  It grew hard to breathe. I took huge gulps of air and choked on the fumes.

  Then a searing pain burst through me from the top of my head to my hands and toes. If it were possible, I would have screamed. It felt as if I’d been struck by lightning. I began to lose consciousness as wave upon wave of pain rolled through my body. And yet I stood rooted to the spot, unable even to fall down. My muscles contracted, and I could no longer breathe at all. My hair felt as if it were standing out on end. My heart stopped beating.

  And I found myself floating comfortably in the air, looking down on a miasma of swirling colors. Yallick, Oleeda, and my body began to spin, melting into the fog of color. The mages both cried out in pain and collapsed. My body stood stiff, held up by a power I could never hope to understand.

  Xyla trumpeted. Then again. And yet again. The sound echoed off the walls of the cave and tore through my head.

  Two mages came running in. I watched as they raced to the three figures below me. One went to Oleeda and stooped over her; the other stood looking back and forth from my upright body to Yallick’s crumpled form. Yallick stirred just as the mage reached toward me.

  “No,” Yallick moaned, but it was too late. The mage touched my arm, and my body crashed to the floor.

  My son sits poised like a spider on its web. The fly is wary, sensing the predator nearby, but not yet grasping that it is trapped. Soon, soon it will discover the truth.

  All that is left is to spring the trap at just the right moment, when the prey thinks himself strong yet is indeed most vulnerable.

  Patience. The final play will come soon, but not quite yet.

  Someone was moving me, and I wished they wouldn’t. My brain whirled inside my skull, and if it didn’t stop soon, I would vomit.

  Then, stillness. Furs were placed over me and tucked in.

  “Is she . . . ?” a woman’s shaky voice whispered.

  “She breathes. She lives.” A gravelly male voice drained of any vitality.

  A gentle hand on my forehead. A voice I couldn’t place murmuring soft words. I fell into a deep sleep.

  I lay there, lethargic, unmoving, and barely conscious for I don’t know how long. I felt no pain, and for that I was thankful, but neither did I feel anything else. It was as if I were paralyzed, mind, body, and spirit.

  Eventually, I remembered who I was. Soon after that, I remembered where I was and some vague ideas about how I’d gotten here. But somehow, none of it mattered. All I cared about was never, ever, moving again.

  Sometimes, I caught snippets of conversation.

  “Stop blaming yourself, Yallick.” A snort. “This bout of self-pity is not doing Donavah any good. Or you.”

  “We should not have rushed. We did not know what we were dealing with. She might never . . .” He broke off, and the anguish in his voice almost brought a tear to my eye. Almost.

  “When she is stronger, we will try again. We will just go more carefully.”

  Yallick sighed. “I only wish we knew what happened, what we are up against, what we need to do.”

  “Me, too,” Oleeda said.

  I thought to open my eyes, but couldn’t be bothered just then.

  A cool hand took up one of mine. It felt good.

  “Donavah.” It was Yallick. “Donavah. Wherever you are, come back to us. We need you. We want you back.”

  Need me? Want me? What did I need? What did I want? I needed a drink, and I wanted to stay warm. Safe. Protected.

  I opened my eyes.

  “Donavah!” Yallick leaned over me. His face was haggard and grey, with dark circles under eyes that were too tired to shine with their usual brilliance. He looked older than I’d ever seen him, almost his real age.

  “Oleeda!” He almost hissed her name. “She stirs!”

  Sounds of movement, then Oleeda’s face came into view, looking almost as bad as Yallick’s. She gently stroked my hair, a tender smile on her lips.

  “How are you, dear?”

  No way to say anything. No desire to, either. I just lay there, content with things as they were.

  Oleeda lifted a cup and tried to get me to drink. A few drops spilled onto my tongue. A healing infusion of thyme, hyssop, wild lavender, and more. How did I know that? Everything was too confusing. I swallowed, closed my eyes, and fell back to sleep.

  Vague memories of Oleeda and Yallick trying to coax me into swallowing more of their remedies. Sometimes I cooperated, other times I didn’t. Still nothing made sense. My concept of myself kept slipping in and out of focus.

  I opened my eyes to find Traz staring at me. He gave me an impudent grin.

  “You’re awake! Yallick and Oleeda left me to watch. They said you wouldn’t wake up, but I knew you would if I could just get the words right.”

  I felt him lift something that had been lying across my chest. His staff.

  “So, I know you can’t tell me about your adventures, but if you want, I can tell you about ours. I mean, after that night of the attack.”

  He took my non-response as affirmative and plunged into his tale.

  “So first there was that lightning. It was everywhere. I got blinded by it, and I couldn’t find you. In all the confusion, I managed to make my way to Yallick. I thought you would, too.” A long pause. He touched my cheek. “I wish you had.” And there was nothing I could say.

  “Anyway, it was total chaos. People getting struck and killed by lightning, everyone scattering. The next morning, we regrouped, found out just how bad it was. About half the mages were either dead or missing, and a lot were hurt, too.” He paused again, and I could tell he was struggling with tears. Finally he swallowed the lump in his throat, blinked his eyes, and went on.

  “Some of the mages wanted to move on right away, but Yallick said we had to stay there for at least a few days. Because of the injured people, you know. And also in case anyone missing tried to find us. He said once we’d gone, they’d be on their own.

  “The mages who were left cast these spells to keep us hidden, and I guess it worked, because we didn’t get attacked again.”

  Something fell into place. The dragonmasters had always known where the group was when Anazian was part of it. He must be the one who . . . but what connection could he possibly have with the dragonmasters?

  “After a few days, Yallick finally decided that we’d best be on our way. It was slow going, with so many people still hurt. A few even had to be carried on litters. It was dismal. No one talked, and we had to eat our food cold. At night we had fires, but that meant extra mages had to keep watch to maintain the hiding spells. And everyone was tired and exhausted all the time.

  “We made our way to the mountains, slowly but surely. Yallick was getting birds from Xyla, so he knew exactly where to go. But he was worried sick, Donavah. For everyone, of course, but mostly for you.

  “Then we got here. This place is great! Just wait ’til you see. There are caves all around this valley. I don’t know how Xyla found it, but it’s perfect. Everyone divided up into small groups. Yallick made me stay with him.” I almost smiled when Traz curled his lip at that. “Every day, Yallick and I rode out on Xyla trying to find you. And any of the others. That’s how we found Oleeda. She’d heard about what happened and was com
ing as fast as she could.

  “It was just awful when Xyla couldn’t find any trace of you anywhere. Yallick got so irritable that I was half-tempted to run away. Then finally, that raven came back with word that he thought he’d found you. You wouldn’t believe how fast Yallick and Xyla tore out of here. He wouldn’t have remembered his cloak if Oleeda hadn’t . . .” He stopped mid-sentence and looked toward the entrance to the cave. The expression on his face quickly changed, and I guessed that Yallick and Oleeda must have returned.

  I felt him slip his staff under the fur, and he whispered, “I’ll get it back soon.” Then he stood up straight.

  “She’s waking up. I told you she would.”

  I heard Yallick guffaw. Soon Oleeda was at my side administering yet another of her potions. This time, I accepted it readily, and this surprised her. With a tiny pang, I realized that I’d not been a very easy patient. She actually smiled when the last of the drink had safely gone down my throat.

  “I think she’s improving,” she said, rising to her feet. Then her face fell, and I wondered what made her so sad. It must be all those people dead and missing that Traz had told me about.

  Later, I don’t know how many hours or days, Yallick came and sat on the pallet, shifting my legs aside to give himself enough room to sit. He held my hand in his for the longest time. Some of the warmth from his hands even seemed to seep into my arm muscles. Then he reached up and brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers.

  “My child.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “My little one. Please come back to us. We miss you. We need you.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “I do not know what to do for you, my dear. You must find it in yourself. I know it is hard. Harder, I think, than anything I have ever had to do. But you are strong. Dig deep, child, and find what is necessary. We are here. We are waiting.”