“He hasn’t returned to Terrebonne,” Claude said.

“Then where the hell is he?”

“I have no idea. It’s as if he’s vanished off the face of the earth. Even Sidra can’t locate him. He’s undoubtedly shielding his whereabouts.”

“Eve drew a picture of him today, after he tried to talk to her.”

“Could she locate him for us?”

“She might be able to,” Judah said. “But I can’t risk her getting that close to him. He could capture her thoughts and hypnotize her, or enter her dreams and make her deathly sick.”

“Wherever he is and whatever he’s doing, he’s up to no good.”

“What about the warriors who left Terrebonne with him? Have they returned?”

“No, and several others are unaccounted for.”

“Then it’s begun, hasn’t it? He’s gradually amassing his army.”

“Let him.” Claude emitted a grunting huff. “He’s a fool if he believes that a few dozen renegade warriors make an army.”

“He told me that he’s coming for me soon.”

“And when he does, you’ll kill him.”

“We should be there on Terrebonne for the Death Duel,” Judah said. “But that could well be what he expects me to do-return home and leave Eve unprotected.”

“She has protection. Her mother and-”

“Raintree protection. It’s not enough for a child such as Eve.”

“Then do what you have to do. Kill Cael on Raintree ground, then bring your daughter home to Terrebonne where she belongs.”

After dinner with his daughter and the ever-watchful Sidonia, Judah told Eve that he was going for a walk and would see her before bedtime to say good-night. They had spent hours alone together today, and he felt he had convinced her that she could be of more help to him by not interfering in his fight with Cael than if she injected herself into the situation. He needed to find Mercy and assure her that Eve had listened to him, and that when the time came, she would obey their orders.

As he headed out the back door, Eve called, “I wish you’d go see about my mother. She’s almost always home for supper, and she wasn’t tonight. Meta must be terribly sick for Mommy to spend so much time with her.”

“Your mother’s fine.” Sidonia gave Judah a warning glare. “She doesn’t need anything from him. When she’s done her job, she’ll come home.”

“Don’t worry about your mother,” Judah said. “I’m sure Sidonia’s right and your mother’s fine.”

“No, she’s not, Daddy. I think she needs you.”

Once outside, with the sun low in the west and a warm breeze blowing, Judah thought about Eve’s concern for Mercy. He had wondered what would keep Mercy from dinner with her daughter, and suspected that Eve’s take on the problem was accurate. Undoubtedly the woman-Eve had called her Meta-that Mercy was counseling was seriously ill. Was this Meta the woman Mercy had told him about, the one who had lost her husband and children six months ago?

Had Mercy become so engrossed in easing this woman’s pain that she had taken too much of the agony into herself and was in such bad shape that she either couldn’t return home or didn’t want Eve to see her in her weakened condition? Was Eve right-did Mercy need him?

Hell. What difference did it make? Why should he care if Mercy was writhing in pain, or perhaps unconscious and tortured by the suffering that rightfully belonged to someone else?

Don’t think about Mercy. Think about Cael. About finally meeting him in combat.

Think about Eve. About keeping her safe and taking her home to Terrebonne.

But he couldn’t help himself, and his thoughts returned to the past and the promise he’d once made.

I’m sorry, Father. I’ve done all I can, tried everything possible. Cael can’t be saved. He is as insane as Nusi was. Even in death, her hold on him is too strong. Forgive me, but I have no choice but to kill my brother.

Less than an hour into his solitary walk, Judah ran into Brenna and Geol taking an evening stroll. By the way they held hands and from the mating vibes he picked up from them, he suspected that if they were not already lovers, they soon would be.

“You’re out all alone?” Geol asked. “Where’s Mercy?”

“She’s with a new arrival to the sanctuary,” Judah replied. “A woman named Meta.”

“Oh, yes. Poor Meta.” Brenna shook her head sadly. “She should have come to Mercy months ago. I’m afraid it may be too late for her now.”

“What do you mean, ‘too late’?” Judah asked.

“Did Mercy not tell you? Meta tried to kill herself and will probably try again.”

“No, she didn’t tell me.”

“We’ve all been taking turns,” Brenna said, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “A suicide watch.”

“Where is Meta’s cabin?” Judah asked, then quickly added, “I thought I’d meet Mercy and walk her home.”

Brenna smiled. Lovers always assumed the whole world was in love. Brenna was young, her mind an open book, so he could read her romantic thoughts quite easily. She suspected that Judah Blackstone, Mercy’s old boyfriend from college, might possibly be Eve’s father, and she hoped they would rekindle their romance.

Without hesitation, she gave Judah directions; then she and Geol disappeared, arm in arm, into the advancing twilight. The sky to the west radiated with the remainder of the day’s light, spreading red and orange and deep pink layers of color across the horizon.

Meta’s cabin was about a quarter of a mile away, one of three structures built along the mountainside. The topmost cabin overlooked a small waterfall that trickled steadily over worn-smooth boulders, until it reached one of the creeks that ran through the Raintree property not far from the main house.

When Judah approached Meta’s cabin, he noticed that the door and windows were all open, a misty green light escaping from them. Pausing to watch the unusual sight, he tried to recall if he’d ever witnessed anything similar. He hadn’t. Although there were a few Ansara empaths, only two or three had actually cultivated the healing aspects of their personalities. It took a great deal of selflessness to devote your life to healing.

He had heard stories of how, in centuries past, many royal Ansara had kept empathic healers caged for the sole purpose of emptying their pain into these women as if they were waste receptacles. He could well believe that someone like Cael was capable of such an atrocity and would even take great pleasure in inflicting such torture.

Judah moved cautiously toward the open front door but stopped dead still when he saw Mercy standing over a woman sitting on the floor, each woman with her arms outstretched as if welcoming a lover into her embrace. The eerie green light came from Mercy. It surrounded her, enveloped her, poured from her like water from a free-flowing fountain. The black-haired woman Judah assumed was Meta had her eyes closed, and tears streamed down her face.

Mercy spoke softly, her words in an alien tongue. Judah, as the Dranir, possessed the unique talent of zenoglossy, the rare ability to speak and understand any language. The gift of tongues. He listened to her soothing voice as she beseeched any remaining unbearable pain to leave Meta’s heart and mind and enter hers. Wisps of green vapor floated from the woman’s fingertips and entered Mercy’s body through her fingers.

When Mercy cried out and cursed the pain, Judah tensed. And when she moaned, shivering, writhing in agony, it took all Judah’s resolve not to rush into the room and stop her. But the moment passed, and the green mist filtered through Mercy and into the air, leaving behind a tranquil turquoise glow inside the cabin. Judah heaved a deep, groaning sigh.

Mercy reached down, took Meta’s outstretched hands and pulled her to her feet. Speaking in the ancient tongue once again, Mercy bestowed tranquility on Meta’s mind, solace on her heart and peace on her soul, a white light passing from Mercy’s body into Meta’s.