At the point that she felt the impulse to, she lifted her arm, opened her hand, and let the pebble fall into the well, singing the entire time. A breath of heated air surged up from the well, as if the worm creature were coughing itself to life. Corinn took a half step back, steadied herself, and sang through it without faltering. A few moments later, the well sputtered, gurgled, coughed again. She felt a spray of vapor rise out of it and evaporate instantly in the sun. She sang on.

The water, when it finally bubbled out of the hole, was thick with soil. It seeped into the thirsty ground. For a few moments it seemed as if the lip of the hole would drink it all. But soon the water began to roll forward, carrying dirt and ash before it, a stain on the ground that the watchers must have seen clearly. It flowed in all directions. Corinn felt it touch her toes and grab at the hem of her trouser skirt. She kept singing. She heard the merchants exclaiming up on the rim. A Numrek shouted her name, but she kept singing.

The water began to gush. It surged a few feet into the air. It splashed the front of her dress and reached up over her ankles, buffeting her feet. She sang on, not feeling where the end of the song might be. She vaguely thought that she might not be able to stop. She might be here still with her mouth open when the water poured inside her and she filled with it. This was not a frightening thought. Nothing was frightening when the song was in her. There was nothing, nothing, nothing to fear.

And then she stopped. Just like that. Her lips paused and nothing more came through them and she knew she was finished. The water continued to flow, growing even stronger. She stepped back from it, awed-now that she could see her work with clear eyes-at the wonder of water in this place. She could taste it in the air. The tang of it was sharp and cold, as if she were standing beside a mountain stream, a rising mountain stream.

She turned around and waded toward the merchants with all the grace she could manage. She was panting hard as she reached the rim, but she did not give them time to study her. "Back away from the edge," she commanded. "Back away! Drop to your knees and bow."

The men looked startled, scared even, but one after another did as she commanded. Several had to dismount, but they did so quickly. Soon the entire company around her-merchants, nobles, laborers, and the ragged children-pressed their knees to the ground, waiting, jittery, caught between obeying her and their desire to watch the water rise. The Numrek contingent stood straight backed, their weapons in hand, looking as if they were ready to attack the merchants, slaughtering them. Not today, Corinn thought.

She stood gathering her breath, holding the moment, using it. Aaden still sat on his horse. She glanced at him long enough to smile away his concern. In a gesture meant only for him, she rolled her eyes, as if acknowledging the silliness of it all. The gesture almost knocked her off balance. She indicated that he should dismount and stand beside her. Then she turned her attention to the bowed heads.

"Are you true to me?" Corinn asked.

"Of course," Elder Anath said.

"Why?"

"You are our queen."

"Are you the only one who thinks so?"

The others spoke then, praising her, talking over one another, some bending forward like worshippers. It was what she wanted, but the sight of them annoyed her also. They were scared now, cowards. "Do not ask how I have done this thing, but see that it was I alone who did it. Tell the truth when you speak of this. The water will rise and rise and never stop as long as this is my wish. It will fill the tank and will replenish itself as you open the gates and feed the fields. This heart spring belongs to all Bocoum. Don't let me learn that any of you have called it your own or deprived others of it. You may look up now."

Corinn's gaze moved from one person to the next, pausing at each one, speaking to them all-old and young, rich and poor-with the same authority. Before, there might have been much to read in the hidden thoughts and emotions behind the various faces. Now, though, they all looked the same. Sinper Ou shared the same slack-mouthed expression as the boy standing a little distance behind him. Elder Anath had a face of wet clay, upon which she could write what she wished.

"I am not just the mother of this child. I am the mother of Acacia. Say that. Say that I am the mother of Acacia."

"You are the mother of Acacia," they intoned raggedly, in different volumes and pitches of voices.

"Say that I am the mother of the empire."

The kneeling group did.

"And remember to pray each day for my health, for should I die, this spring will as well. Betray me," Corinn said, "and your world will dry, shrivel, and burst into flames beneath my sun. This water that I give"-she motioned to the rising body behind her-"I can take away. So say I, and my son." As hard as it was to do, she raised Aaden's arm with hers. For a few moments longer, her eyes moved from person to person, until she was sure that she had made eye contact with them all. Then she smiled and said, soft voiced, "That's the truth, but we are friends here, aren't we? Do not think me angry. I just enjoy speaking the truth. Now drink of this water, friends. It will not cease flowing. Never. Grow your crops, and spread word of the gift I have given Bocoum. I am your queen, and I give this to you."

As the merchants rose and moved toward her, she had to speak over their adulation to announce that she would return to the city now, without the merchant escort. Though they fawned around her until she moved away, it was clear they did not care. They rushed toward the edge of the bubbling tank as soon as she turned her back to them. On her horse again, she rode without looking back. Aaden did, though.

"What are they doing?" she asked.

The boy laughed. "They're acting like children. They are dancing, shouting, and hugging each other. I didn't know you were going to do that! You did magic, Mother, and everyone saw!" He laughed again, and Corinn knew the child in him would have liked to have joined them, to share their giddy enthusiasm, maybe even to jump in and swim. She needed him, though. She could not fall from the saddle. If she did, the Numrek would carry her back to the city, but that wouldn't do.

She began to reach out to touch him, but just lifting her hand from the pommel made her feel she might fall. She returned it, gripping hard and trying to find the swaying balance she needed. It would not be easy, but she knew she could do it if she kept her focus. For that reason, she rode in silence for several minutes.

"Aaden, ride close to me. Watch me carefully."

"Why?" Serious now, the prince drew up near her.

"Doing such a thing as that tires me very much. I need you beside me."