Though not as constant as Benabe, it was obvious Naamen, too, had his doubts. He approached Kelis after she drifted away. He walked silently beside him for some time, and then said, "After today we will have no water."

"I know," Kelis said.

"So you also know that we are walking dead. Benabe is right: we should not have come."

"Do not let a coward wear your skin," Kelis answered, all the more harshly because he was wrestling with the same thoughts. "When you are called to a quest, you go. You trust. We must trust Leeka."

In an answer of sorts, Naamen had exhaled and took in the desolation around them. What more need he say when the entire curve of the world was nothing but sand cracked by the sun, so parched that the ground looked to have never known a drop of water?

Naamen said, "He may be a gatherer of the dead. He is taking us to-"

"Have faith! In Shen, if not in Leeka. She is the only one among us who matters. Aliver's daughter, remember? He leads us through her."

"I never knew the prince."

"Know his daughter, then, and feel privileged."

Kelis did not waste any more breath trying to convince him. Naamen and Benabe could base their thoughts only on the world they knew and the things they had seen. Neither had seen the Santoth. Kelis had. Neither had ever seen Leeka before. Kelis had, and because of it, he was sure that they had no choice but to follow him. Kelis did not truly feel the certainty he tried to project, yet what choice had he but to face with dignity whatever came?

They did not walk as late into the night as usual. They made camp on a plain dotted with oblong boulders, like slim eggs balanced upright, each taller than a man. Kelis had not seen the boulders until they were among them-strange, for his eyes had been searching for anything to break the monotony. But there they were. The group stood within a cluster of them, the others showing unease behind their fatigue.

Leeka kept moving. He scooped out a bowl shape in the sand and sparked a strange blue fire into it. He had not poured any substance into the bowl. Nor had he struck flint and tinder. Nevertheless, a flame roiled around the depression like a liquid, brightening to a greenish glow, then settling to a turquoise illumination that touched all the watching faces and made the world behind them fade.

With the fire burning but nothing being consumed, Leeka looked at the group. He bade them sit. Once they had, he said, "Touch the fire. It will not burn you."

"Touch it?" Naamen asked.

"Yes." Leeka demonstrated, drawing back a sleeve and pushing his outstretched hand into the substance. It rippled at his touch, licked up his forearm. He showed no discomfort, and when he withdrew his hand it was unharmed.

"Why?" Naamen asked. "Why should we touch it?"

"You should do as your friend suggests. Trust."

Naamen glanced at Kelis, at Shen and Benabe. For a moment he looked like a child caught out by an elder, but then he pressed his lips together and looked at the liquid flame. He shot his fingers into it quickly, straight and close together, then drew them back, stared at them, and then eased them in again. Astonishment loosened his features. "It's not hot," he said. "It's… like cool water."

"Like water," Leeka said, "it will refresh you. Touch and drink of it. It will sustain you until you return to your lands."

Just like that, Kelis's thirst-which had faded to so deep within him that he was no longer aware of it-returned. Nothing had ever seemed more enticing than that fiery liquid. His hand scooped into it and came up dripping flame. Naamen was right. It was cool to the touch. He brought his hand to his lips. It was delicious and like liquid life as it slid down his throat. He felt it reach the center of him and begin to slip out as if into the veins of his body. Just one handful, then he sat back on his haunches, head tilted to the sky, eyes closed, completely filled. For a time he forgot everything, understanding vaguely that the others had done the same.

"The Santoth are here," Leeka said. "They thank you for bringing the heir to them. She is loved. They will answer your questions now."

Remembering the sorcerers as he had seen them on the plains that day, Kelis opened his eyes and looked around. The five of them were alone. "They will?"

"My teachers will speak through me, yes."

"Now you'll answer our questions?" Benabe asked. The euphoria of having drunk the flame had filled her features, but her voice still had its edge. "Now that we walked through the desert with you for three days-now we can ask you questions?"

"Mother," Shen said.

Leeka said, "Perhaps I should begin with what they think you should know. You should know that the Santoth are protecting you. They have been for some time already. They feel your fear and they understand, but you are safe here. When you leave, you will find your way safely back to the world of people. They promise you that."

"What do they want with my daughter?"

"They want her to be safe."

"Safe from what?"

Leeka was silent a moment, his eyes focused somewhere else. Eventually he said, "They wish me to explain. Shen knows these things. She and I have discussed them. Time that you know as well, mother of Shen. Understand without doubt that the Santoth have been in communion with the girl her entire life. We know you know this, and yet we feel the doubt in you. Don't doubt."

Benabe sat with her daughter at her side. The mother's face wore an expression like hurt, as if the man had touched an old wound. Shen must have seen it, for she took Benabe's hand and rubbed it.

"For many generations of the living world the Santoth knew no hope. They suffered their banishment, undying. They knew much of what transpired in the world, but they were not part of it. They remembered so much, and yet their grasp of the Giver's tongue slipped from them. It eroded, grew tainted. It became a dreadful thing even to them. You cannot understand how they suffered."

"You do?" Naamen asked.

"They have let me experience it with them," Leeka answered. "It is a gift to me, but I would not wish this knowledge on you. But then Aliver came to them. As you did, but he came unbidden. He stirred hope in them again. He reminded them that their banishment could be lifted. He could have done it, being a firstborn of a generation of Tinhadin's line. There had been others, of course, many others. But none of them had sought the Santoth. None of them came so close to releasing the Santoth to do good in the world again. Aliver said he would. That's why his death tormented the Santoth. They journeyed to find him, and they did; and in the disappointment following, they let themselves release their rage." Here he looked at Kelis. "But you know that. You were there."

Kelis looked down. He rubbed the knuckles of one hand with the fingers of the other. He did not wish the others to see the horror of that day on his face, but he was sure it would be there for all to see. Why, they might ask, had he brought them here to those who had unleashed abominations on the world? He wouldn't be able to answer.

"My teachers feared that their exile would continue long and long. They feared that, but when they listened and waited, they realized Aliver was not completely gone. He lived on in the one we call Shen. The bond they had with Aliver continued with her. That is why they have been able to speak with her all her life, even from when she was in the womb."

Benabe did not look at Shen this time, but again the girl rubbed her mother's hand, comforting. There was apology in the motion, and yet her young face was eager, waiting for Leeka's words.

"You asked what the Santoth wish of Shen," Leeka said. "They wish only what she wants to give, only what her father had tried to give. Only she can call them back to the world. Not the queen. Not the queen's child. Only the firstborn of a generation of Tinhadin's line. Aliver was such a son. Shen is such a daughter, and she has agreed."