In my bedchamber, I sat and stared out of the window until the day faded to night. Then, my decision made, I took paper and pen and wrote a careful but blunt letter to Carsina. I addressed the envelope plainly to her, care of her father. The next day I arose early, dressed meticulously in my uniform and left my uncle’s house.

The first thing I did was to post my letter. Then, having faced that particular demon, I rode Sirlofty to the Academy where I called at Colonel Stiet’s residence, desperately hoping to find that he and his family had already moved out.

But they were still there, and so I forced myself to do what I had promised myself I would do if I ever had the opportunity. I would confront Caulder with his foul lie. I presented the note he had sent me to the servant who answered the door. The man expressed polite surprise and told me that he would first have to seek permission from the boy’s mother. She had given orders that he was not to be allowed to do anything that might excite him in any way. His health was still far too delicate.

And so I was kept waiting for some little time in a finely appointed parlour. I looked at the expensive prints on the walls but did not sit in any of the grandly upholstered chairs. I recalled bitterly that in my cadet days under the colonel, I had never been judged worthy to be invited here. I would not sit on his fine cushions now.

I had expected that Caulder’s mother might come in to see who was visiting her boy. But it was the servant who came back, with the simple request from his mother that I not weary Caulder nor stay too long. I assured the man that I had no intention of making a lengthy visit, and then followed him upstairs to a sunny sitting room.

Caulder was already there. He was sitting on a lounge with a counterpane over his legs. He looked even worse than Spink. His arms were bony, so that his wrists and elbows looked unnaturally large. A table with a pitcher of water, a glass, and the other accoutrements of a sick room stood handy to him. His knees made mountains beneath the coverlet, and he had perched several lead soldiers on top of them. Yet he was not playing with them, but only staring at them fixedly. The servant knocked gently on the frame of the open door. Caulder started, and two soldiers fell to the floor with a clatter. “Beg pardon, young sir. You have a guest,” the man told him, crossing the room to gather up the toy soldiers and hand them back to Caulder. The boy took them absently and did not speak a word to me until the man left the room.

Caulder stared at me for a time, and then said hoarsely, “You don’t look like you’ve been sick at all.” There was wonder in his voice.

“Well, I was.” I stared at the boy who had done me such a monstrous injustice, who had roused such hatred in me, and felt only a great coldness inside me. I had feared I would lose my temper and shout at him. Now, looking at his wasted body and bloodshot eyes, I found that all I wanted was to be away from him. I spoke brusquely. “You wrote to me. You wanted to see me. You said you had something for me.”

“I did. I do.” The boy had managed to go paler. He turned to his bedside table and rummaged about in the mess there. “I took your rock. I’m sorry. Here it is. I want to give it back.” And with, that, he held it out to me.

I crossed the room in three strides. He almost cowered away from me as I took it out of his hand. “I know it was wrong to take it. I’d never seen one like it. I only meant to find out what it was from my uncle. He studies rocks and plants.”

I looked at the rough stone with its coarse veins of crystal and recalled too well how I had come by it. Did I really want anything that reminded me of that? A little shudder ran up my back at the thought of Tree Woman and her world. Well. I was done with that now. Epiny had said so, and although I did not want to believe her about anything else to do with her seances and spirits, I clung to that. Tree Woman’s shadow was no longer cast over me. I was free of her. I set the rock back on his table with a loud clack. “Keep it. I don’t want it anymore. Was that the only reason you wanted me to come?” My words came out more coldly than I’d intended. The memory of the tree woman was a chill one. I had loved her. I had hated her. I had killed her.

A tremor shook Caulder’s lower lip. For a terrifying moment, I thought he would crumple up and cry. Then he mastered himself, and said in a stiff, almost angry voice, “I sent you that message because my father said I must. I told him I had lied about who got me drunk. So he said I must write to you personally, and when you came, I must apologize. I do. I apologize, Nevare Burvelle.” He took a deep and ragged breath. As I was still reeling from that revelation, he shook me further when he added in a whisper. “And I told him the rest about Jaris and Odon. About them beating up that fat cadet, and Lieutenant Tiber. I apologize for that, too. But even though my father made me send you that note, that isn’t why I wanted you to come. There is something else I must say.”

He stared at me, and the silence grew uncomfortably long. I think he was waiting for me to say something. At last he said in a hoarse whisper, “Thank you for sending me back across the bridge. If you hadn’t, I would have gone on to that place. I would have died.” He suddenly hugged his arms around himself and started to shiver so violently that I could see it. “I have tried to tell my father about it, but he just gets angry with me. But I know… That is—” He halted his words and looked desperately around the room, as if to reassure himself it was there. His shaking became more pronounced. “What is real? Is this place more real than that one? Can the whole world suddenly give way around you and then we are somewhere else? I think about that all the time now. I cannot sleep well at night. My father and the doctor drug me to make me close my eyes, but that is not the same as sleep, is it?”

“Caulder, calm yourself. You are safe.”

“Am I? Are you? Do you think she couldn’t just reach out and snatch either of us back if she wished it?” He began to weep noisily.

I stepped to the door of his room and looked out into the hall for help. No one was in sight. “Caulder is not feeling well!” I called out loudly. “Could someone please come and take care of him?” I went back to his bedside and set a hand to his shoulder, feeling nothing of warmth toward him, only alarm. “She is gone now, Caulder. Forever. Calm down. Someone will be here soon to take care of you.”

“No!” Caulder wailed. “No. They’ll drug me again. Nevare. Please. Don’t call them. I’m calm now. I’m calm.” He hugged himself even tighter, and held his breath in an effort to stop his sobs.

I heard a door open and close and then footfalls in the hall. They seemed to be coming very slowly. I scrabbled desperately for a way to distract him from his terror. I did not wish to be blamed for working an invalid into hysteria. Awkwardly I asked, “Where will you be going now? To a family estate?”

It was the wrong question. “My father is, and he’s taking my mother. But he’s sending me away. I’m no good now. He hates me. He says I quiver like a lapdog and see danger in dustballs. A soldier son who will never be a soldier. What use am I in the world?” He picked up the rock and set it down again. “He was furious that I stole this from you. He thinks he will punish me by sending me to my uncle. Uncle Car has written to say he will be glad to have me and will adopt me so that he has a son to follow him. He says the scholar son has no need of a strong back or great courage, only a good mind. I don’t think I even have that any more.”

“What is all this!” Colonel Stiet demanded from the door. But his voice was only an echo of his old bark. When I looked at him, I saw an old man in a dressing gown, leaning on a cane. He had two days’ growth of greying stubble on his chin, and his hair was uncombed. When he recognized me, he growled, “I might have known it would be you. Well. Do you have your satisfaction?”