"Will I ever be called that again?" Seregil asked as it finally sank in that the khtir'bai had addressed him by his true name.

"We shall see." The eyes blinked and were gone.

Seregil held his breath, listening, but no sound came from under the rock. He lay back again, staring up at the stars as he pondered this new turn of events.

A few minutes later he caught the soft scuff of bare feet on stone. Sitting up, he saw Alec climbing up to join him.

"You should have come sooner. There was a khtir'bai under there, one who knew my name."

Alec's look of disappointment was almost comical. "What did it look like?"

"It was just a voice in the dark, but it welcomed me home."

Alec sat down next to him. "At least someone has. Couldn't you sleep?"

Seregil told Alec all he could recall of his dream: the glass balls, the flames, the childhood memories. Alec listened quietly, gazing out across the mist-covered water.

"You've always claimed to have no magic, but your dreams—!" Alec said when he'd finished. "Remember those visions you had before we found Mardus?"

"Before he found us, you mean? The warnings I didn't understand until it was too late? A lot of good that did us."

"Maybe you're not supposed to do anything about them. Maybe you're just supposed to be ready."

Seregil sighed, thinking again of the khtir'bai's words. You have much to do, son of Korit. "No, this was different. Just a dream. What about you, tali? Any great revelations?"

"I wouldn't call it that. I dreamt about being aboard Mardus's ship with Thero, only when Thero turned around, he was you and you were weeping. Then the ship sailed over a waterfall and into a

tunnel and that was the end of it. I don't think I'd make much of an oracle."

Seregil chuckled softly. "Or a navigator, from the sound of it. Well, they say all answers can be found at Sarikali. Perhaps we'll turn up a few there. How's the ear?"

Alec fingered the swollen skin and winced. "My whole neck hurts. I should have brought the lissik."

"Come on, I know something even better." Rising, Seregil pulled Alec to his feet and led him down to the water's edge. "Get in and give it a good soak."

"No. I already told you—"

"Who's to know?" Seregil challenged with a wink. "Go on now, before I toss you in. The ride ahead of us will be uncomfortable enough. Take what healing you can get."

"Well, did anyone else dream last night?" Klia asked as they stood around the morning fire a few hours later. "I couldn't recall a thing when I woke up, but I never do."

"Neither did I," said Beka, clearly disappointed.

None of the Skalans had anything to report, as it turned out.

"Perhaps the magic doesn't work for Tir? "Alec offered, still pondering his own strange dream.

When Thero emerged at last from the tent, however, he knew he was going to have to reevaluate his theory. The young wizard looked too dark under the eyes to have rested well.

"Bad dreams?" asked Seregil.

Thero gazed out over the pool, looking rather perplexed. "I dreamed of drowning here, with the moon shining in my eyes so brightly it hurt, even through the water. And all the while I could hear someone singing 'home, home, home. »

"You're a wizard," Amali said, overhearing. "Your magic came from Aurenen, so perhaps you are home, in a sense."

"Thank you, lady," Thero said. "That is a more positive interpretation than I was able to come to. It felt very much like a dream of death to me."

"And yet does not water also signify birth among your people?" she asked, strolling away.

Below the Vhada'nakori, the trail grew steeper and the Skalans had to ride most of the morning blindfolded. Chewing doggedly on

a slice of ginger, Alec clung on with thighs and hands; at times it felt as if the horse were about to walk out from under him.

After a few miles of this torture, he swallowed his pride and let an Akhendi named Tael mount in front of him and take the reins. Judging by the muttered epithets he heard on all sides, he wasn't the only one to give in. Even with this help, however, his back and thighs were soon aching again as he clung on behind his guide.

Luckily, his torment was short-lived. Reaching a level patch of ground, the column halted and the hated blindfolds were removed.

Alec blinked, then let out a whistle.

Far below, a rolling green vista dotted with scattered lakes and netted with rivers stretched toward lowlands on the southern horizon.

"So green it hurts your eyes," Thero murmured.

They came down into the foothills through groves of flowering trees so dense it seemed as if they were riding through clouds. Beyond this, a packed-earth road led through the thick forests of Akhendi fai'thast.

Alec's fingertips ached for the pull of a bowstring. Sunlight slanted through the towering trees, illuminating little glades where herds of deer grazed. Flocks of game birds called kutka darted across the trail like startled chickens.

"Doesn't anyone hunt here?" he asked Tael.

The Akhendi shrugged. "Aura is bountiful to those who take only what they need."

The trail met a broader road that led through small, scattered villages. People gathered by the road, staring and waving at the Skalans and calling out to Amali, who was clearly well loved. Men, women, and children alike wore various versions of the familiar tunic and trousers, which some had augmented with colorful openwork shawls or sashes fashioned like fisherman's nets, but elaborate as lace.

"I can't tell the men from the women," said Minal.

"I assure you, rider, those who need to can tell the difference!" Nyal told him, eliciting a round of laughter from his companions.

The dwellings here were similar in design to those at Gedre, but built of wood instead of stone. Many had open-sided sheds nearby, where their owners plied their trades. From what Alec could make

out from the road, woodworking was a common occupation in this part of the country.

Many of the byways that branched off from the main road looked disused and overgrown, he noticed. In the larger villages, many houses stood empty.

Riding up beside Riagil and Amali, he asked, "My lady, this was a trade road once, wasn't it?»

"Yes, one of the busiest. Our marketplaces saw goods from every corner of Aurenen, the Three Lands, and beyond. Our inns were always filled with traders. But now those same traders go downriver to Bry'kha, or overland to Viresse. Many of our people have moved closer to the routes, even gone to other fai'thasts."

She shook her head sadly. "The village I grew up in stands empty now. It is a shameful thing for any 'faie to be forced against her will to leave the place her family lived in for generations out of mind, to walk away from the house of her ancestors. It has brought our clan ill luck.

"It is even more difficult for my husband, both as our khirnari and as one who has lived so long and remembers what the Akhendi once were. I assure you, he will do all in his power to support your lady's mission, as will I."

Alec bowed, wondering again what she and Nyal had been doing together on that dark trail in the mountains.

Anxious as she was to see Sarikali, Beka found herself wishing they could stay longer in Akhendi. This country reminded her of the rolling forests she'd roamed as a girl, and of the peaceful life she'd taken for granted.

They stopped for the night in one of the larger villages, and their arrival created quite a stir, if a quiet one at first. A few at a time, villagers gathered to greet Amali and gawk at the Tirfaie visitors. Before long, the Skalans were surrounded by a silent, staring throng.

"We're as much creatures of legend here as the 'faie are in the northlands," Beka told her riders. "Come on. Give them a smile!"