"Wait," Besh said.

Sirj stopped and looked back at him.

"We should turn north, toward the Companion Lakes."

"I thought we were going to the span."

"That's what I'd intended, but I think I was wrong. She's been heading north, spreading the illness in Y'Qatt villages around the lakes. That's where we should be."

"But…" He shook his head. "Never mind." He started walking again, northward this time.

A few hours before, Besh would have left it at that, not really caring to hear the man's opinions, or at least having convinced himself that he didn't. But after their conversation, he felt that he owed Sirj more. "What were you going to say?" he called.

Sirj didn't stop. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does."

Still the man kept walking.

"Please," Besh said. "I want to know."

Sirj halted and turned. He regarded Besh for some time, seeming to wrestle with something. Finally, he looked away, toward the river. "I was just going to say that we're here now. It can't be more than a half day's walk to the banks of the wash. As long as we've come this way, we should do what we planned." He met Besh's gaze again. "Don't you want to see where she lived? Isn't it possible that you'd learn as much from seeing her home as you have from reading that daybook you carry with you?"

"You're right," Besh said after a moment's pause.

Sirj appeared genuinely surprised.

"Well, you are."

"I know," the man said. "I just didn't think you'd admit it." Besh had to laugh.

With the wash in view, and Lici's home village less than a day away, Besh found his weariness sluicing away, and with it his discomfort. He didn't expect to find much in the village. For all he knew, Sentaya had never been resettled and its buildings had been left to decay. But having read Sy1pa's journal, he almost felt that he had heard Lici's tale with his own ears. He did want to see it.

It seemed that Sirj did, too. Or maybe he sensed Besh's eagerness, for he quickened their pace. Before long they could hear the wash and see that its waters were running high with all the rain that had fallen. Soon, they could also see the bridge curving gracefully over the current.

"N'Kiel's Span," Besh said, pointing.

Sirj glanced back at him and nodded, smiling like a child. "I've always wanted to see it."

They reached the banks of the wash well before dusk and immediately turned north toward the span, halting just before it. For some time they just stood, staring at the ancient stone, watching the water course by beneath it.

"I thought it would be bigger," Sirj said eventually. "I suppose I should have known better, but still…" He shrugged.

"I thought the same," Besh told him. "So many battles were fought here, and yet it's just a small bridge."

Before Sirj could respond, a horse whinnied. Both of them spun toward the woodlands north of the bridge along the east bank of the wash. "Did you hear that?" Besh asked.

Sirj nodded. "Is there a village near here?"

"Sentaya used to be. But from what Lici told Sylpa, I didn't think anyone survived the pestilence when it struck."

"That was a long time ago. Others may have settled here."

"Perhaps," Besh said. But a moment later, he drew his blade.

Sirj did the same, and they started toward the trees. A path led from the end of the span to the forest, and they followed that. The mud was marked by some cart tracks and hoofprints, but certainly not as many as one would expect had there been a village nearby.

As he walked, Besh strained his ears, but he heard nothing more; no voices, no animals. His heart was pounding and despite the cold and the fine, cool mist falling on them, he felt sweat running down his temples.

"It's probably just peddlers," Sirj said. But the way he kept his voice low, one might have thought they were creeping toward the camp of road brigands. And perhaps they were.

Besh said nothing.

A moment later, their path entered the wood. It was far darker among the trees, but Besh could still make out the lane and the cart tracks carved into the mud. Indeed, here, sheltered from the rain by the leaves and limbs overhead, the tracks were far clearer. There were three sets at most, two leading farther into the forest, one leading the opposite way.

"There's no village here," Besh said. "Not a living one anyway."

Sirj just nodded, his dark eyes watchful, his lean frame coiled as if battle ready.

On they walked, until, topping a small rise, they saw something that made Besh's blood turn cold. A short distance off, in front of the ruins of an old wooden house, stood a horse and cart. There was nothing remarkable about either. The cart was old and weatherworn; the nag was white, with a mane the color of a Qirsi's eyes. But Besh recognized them immediately. So did Sirj.

"Those are Lici's," he whispered, scanning the wood and the remains of the houses.

"Yes," Besh said, uncertain as to whether to flee or shout out her name. In the end, he decided to do neither. "Come on," he said, starting forward again. "Let's find her."

"Wait, Besh," Sirj said, facing him. "What are we…? Are we going to fight her?"

He shrugged. "That depends on what she does. We might well need her help controlling whatever magic she's set loose upon the land, so I'd rather not have to kill her. But if she gives us no choice, then that's what I'll do."

Sirj stared at him, as if he'd just suggested that they declare war on the Fal'Borna. "You could do that?"

"I gave my word to Pyav-a blood oath-that I'd find her and keep her from doing any more harm. I'll do whatever I must to honor that oath."

"All right," Sirj said, sounding a bit awed. "Then I'll help in any way I can. But I wish I'd brought my ax."

Besh grinned. "I think we're more likely to need magic."

They continued up the lane, past wrecked houses and small, fenced- in plots of land that might once have been gardens but were now overgrown. Eventually they came to what must have been the marketplace. There were several old shops, all of them in disrepair. There were even a few old carts and the pale bones of horses. But no Lici. They followed the lane past the marketplace and through the rest of the village, until they were in the forest again.

Besh stopped. "We should turn back. She wouldn't have come this far on the road without her cart."

"She's not in the village."

"Maybe not. But she's nearby. Her horse looks healthy-she hasn't been here long."

Sirj nodded. "Should we split up?"

Besh took a long breath. "All right. You stay near the wash; I'll check the woodlands east of the village."

"Right," Sirj said. They started away from each other. "Call for me if you see anything. I'll do the same."

Besh began to wind among the trees, searching for any sign that Lici had been there, straining his ears for any sound. His hands trembled, and his knees threatened to give out at any moment. Already he wished he and Sirj hadn't agreed to search for the woman separately. He quailed at the notion of meeting up with Lici alone. The irony wasn't lost on him- at another time he would have laughed at himself. One moment he resented Sirj for having come with him; the next he wished the younger man were there just in front of him; he truly was acting like a child. But just then he couldn't bring himself to appreciate the humor.

A faint mist drifted through the wood and occasionally a gust of wind stirred the branches, bringing a cascade of water from overhead. Again and again, he thought he saw a figure moving furtively from tree trunk to tree trunk, as if hiding from him, but each time he convinced himself that he had imagined it. He took care as he walked to keep the sound of the wash on his right-on a day like this it would have been so easy to lose his way. He also tried to tread quietly, not only so he could listen for Sirj, but also because he didn't wish to alert Lici to his presence.