Isana made up her mind in a flash She turned to the top crate, leaned against it, and pushed with all her strength It felt like it took forever for the crate to tilt and then to fall, carrying the two beneath with it, but it could only have been a second The crates fell, Kord let out a short, sharp cry, and there was a shockingly loud crushing, crunching sound of impact

Isana scrambled back to the door of the warehouse, fumbling in the dark She found the bolt and threw it back, then opened the door, letting in pale morning light, though the warehouse remained in the shadow of the walls She turned and looked back inside

Kord lay on his belly on the ground, the wooden crates over him One of

them had struck him between the shoulder blades, and still lay half on him, unbroken. The other had to have clipped his head, because there was blood on his face. It lay over to one side.

The last had landed on his lower back, buttocks, and thighs. It had broken open, revealing the cracked and broken forms of heavy slate tiles used on the roofs of the buildings in the garrison. Isana drew in a breath. The tiles were each made of a heavy fired ceramic, and each of the crates had to have weighed close to three hundred pounds.

She watched as Kord tried to move, straining. He snarled and muttered something, and the earth beneath him stirred weakly. He tried again, but could not get out from under the crates. He subsided to the floor again, panting, whimpering beneath his breath.

Isana walked over to him and stood looking down at him. She knelt and touched a fingertip to his temple, willing Rill to impress his condition upon her.

"Your legs are broken," she said, tonelessly. "So is your hip. So is your back." She felt a moment more. "And you're exhausted. You must have been drawing on your fury to pursue us." She drew her hand away. "You aren't going anywhere, Kord."

"Bitch," he snarled, the sound weak. "Finish it. Get it over with."

"Were you in my place, you would break my head open." She picked up one of the heavy tiles, and ran a finger over its squared edge. Held up lengthwise and driven down, it could indeed break a skull. "Maybe with one of these. Crush my skull and kill me."

"I had you beat," he growled. "When I die, I'm going to be thinking of it. You in that circle scared out of your head. You just remember that."

She stood up and dropped the slate. Then she walked down one of the rows.

"What are you doing?" he growled. "When I get out of here-"

Isana went to Odiana and took the woman's hand. She lifted the woman to her feet, then covered her eyes with her hands. Odiana nodded, weakly, and hid her eyes in her own hands. Isana led her out, stepping wide around Kord, who struggled to grab at her ankles and failed.

"You aren't getting out of here," Isana said. "I only know of one person, offhand, who could treat your injuries in time to heal you, Kord. She isn't inclined."

Isana stopped and looked down at him, then stooped down. He clutched

at her ankle, and she kicked his hand away with a contemptuous, "Stop that." She grabbed his Steadholder chain and tore it off over his head. Then hit him with it, hard, across the mouth.

Kord stared up at her, the pain stunning him, robbing him of speech.

She spoke to him in a detached, clinical tone. "You don't feel your injuries Kord. But you'll never walk again. You'll have to have someone clean you like an infant. I'm not sure you'll be able to sit up without help."

She turned and began to walk toward the entrance, leading Odiana with her. "But you will be able to face trial. Like that. Helpless. Stinking of your own waste. You'll go to trial before the Count, and everyone in the Valley will see what you are. I'll see to that. And then they'll kill you for what you've done."

Outside, deeper, louder horns began to blare, almost drowning out Kord's sudden, vicious, pathetic sobs. "Isana! You stupid bitch, you can't do this. You can't do this!"

She swung shut the door behind them and said, "I can't hear you, Kord."

Then the battle swept over her, desperation and agony and wild exultation all blended together. She struggled to merely remain standing, and Odiana clung to her, helped her to keep her balance. The two watercrafters could barely manage to hobble from the warehouse to the quiet spot between one of the barracks. Isana's newly opened senses that had served her so well in the darkness now incapacitated her, and she sank to the ground, to her knees, curling her arms up over her head while she tried to tune down some of the emotions that pounded in her. Dimly, she felt the ground shake again, heard the bellowing of some enormous beast, an equally enormous voice roaring a challenge.

By the time she lifted her head, Odiana was gone. Isana looked up to see one dirty foot vanishing up onto the roof of the barracks building. She shook her head, still dazed, and moved until she could see the wild chaos of the courtyard, and the gargant with its ferocious rider as it turned to flatten a Marat warrior beneath its feet in a sudden rush of fierce anger and swiftly fading pain.

"Oh, no," she whispered, her eyes opening wider, lifting up to the gargant's rider again, and his passengers. "Oh, child, what have you gotten yourself into. My Tavi."

Chapter 42

Tavi swallowed, his hands tightening on Doroga's belt. The gargant beneath them stirred restlessly, but other than that, the courtyard was nearly silent.

Bodies lay everywhere. Tavi tried not to look at them, but it seemed that everywhere he moved his eyes, someone had died. It was horrible. The bodies didn't look like people should. They looked misshapen and wrong, as though some careless child had been playing with his wooden soldiers and idly thrown them away after breaking them. There was blood, and that made his belly shake, but more than that, there was a horrible sadness in seeing the torn and broken forms, Marat and Aleran, man and beast alike.

It seemed such a waste.

The courtyard had grown almost quiet. In the gate and spread in a loose half-circle around it were Atsurak and his Marat. Loosely grouped around the stables were the Aleran defenders, among them Amara and his uncle.

Atsurak stared at Doroga, and the big Marat's eyes were flat with cool hatred.

Doroga faced Atsurak steadily. "Well, murderer?" Doroga demanded. "Will you face me in the Trial of Blood, or will you turn and lead your clan back to your lands?"

Atsurak lifted his chin once. "Come die then."

Doroga's teeth showed in a fierce smile. He turned back to Tavi behind him and rumbled, "Get down, young warrior. Be sure you tell your people what I said."

Tavi looked up at Doroga and nodded. "I can't believe you're doing this."

Doroga blinked at him. "I said that I would help you protect your family." He shrugged. "A horde stands in the way. I did what is necessary to finish what I began. Climb down."

Tavi nodded, and Doroga shook out the saddle cord. Fade swung down from the gargant's broad back first and all but hovered beneath Tavi as the boy came down. Doroga barely used the strap, but landed lightly on the

courtyard and stretched, tendons creaking. He spun the long-handled cudgel in his fingers and stepped toward Atsurak.

Tavi led Fade around Doroga's gargant, stepping wide around its front legs and the wet splatter on the stones there. Tavi's belly heaved about restlessly, and he swallowed, hurrying across the stones to his uncle.

"Tavi," Bernard said, and enfolded the boy in a rib-creaking embrace. "Furies but I feared for you. And Fade, good man. You're all right?"

Fade hooted in the affirmative. There was the sound of running footsteps, light on the stones, and Tavi felt his Aunt Isana, unmistakably his aunt, even if he did not see her, wrap her arms around him and hug him tight to her. "Tavi," she said. "Oh, Tavi. You're all right."