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not hear him. "And you have kept my kingdom well. But I am still king, and this creature has not come to my kingdom of his own accord. His blood is on our hands. And it is true, his kind would not help us in the same situation. I have spent the last ten years in my enemy's prison; now that I am free, I will share none of his ways. The life song must be sung."

He closed his gentle eyes and began to hum. The water sapphire twinkled and glittered in response, its colors changing slowly from deepest purple to pale blue and back again. Wiggulf s strength seemed to wax and wane along with the colors.

"Is there nothing we can do to help him?" said Claria softly.

"Not that 1 know of. The stones are Og's. I know nothing of their powers," Cheyne said helplessly. Og began to pace and mutter behind them.

"Wiggulf will die that way. Too much random power. It'll stop his heart. He can't make the tone true enough, can't direct it outside himself without-" Og stopped, noticing suddenly that Cheyne was staring at him.

"Without what, Og?"

Og creased his forehead with a grimace and held up the cloth-covered staff. "Without the ajada. But I haven't sung the life song in a long, long time. If I tried it, using both stones, and I missed the notes, it could kill me, too, and Yob would still die. And Wiggulf could never manage both stones. That's a very powerful song," he said miserably. "Far more powerful than the one I sang for Yob and his company at the oasis. You do remember what happened there when I couldn't release a note."

Cheyne nodded and turned back around to see Wiggulf shake violently as he lost his breath. Yob lay stretched on the forest floor, his face blanched and slack, his eyes closed and still. But Wiggulf raised his silvery head and continued the song, spending himself without thought.

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Or effect. Finally Og could bear it no longer. He parted the way between Cheyne and Claria, and laid his hand upon the old selkie's head. Wiggulf opened his eyes and saw that Yob was no better.

"Let me try, Wiggulf. I have the sister stone. Perhaps it will help, perhaps not. Results may be variable, of course." Og chuckled lamely, uncovering the staff. Instantly the ajada began to gleam redly in the bronze serpent's head.

Wiggulf drew back again from the fanged effigy.

"No, I cannot. He lies upon my land; he is my responsibility. And put away the poisoner's wand, I beg you," panted Wiggulf, his face as pale as the ore's.

"Like your stone, the ajada itself is not evil, Wiggulf. The user determines the use of its power. Command me to your service," said Og. "As king, you can do that. Please, there is no time. And your daughter should have her father back. Let me try-I think…"

He took a deep breath and looked at Cheyne, knowing his speech had yet to convince the selkie. Cheyne nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Og's.

"… I know I can do it," Og finished strongly.

"Please, Father. Let him," a voice said quietly. Frijan stepped back out of the forest, returning to his side.

"Yob's stopped breathing," said Claria, watching the ore's chest.

"I will let you try on one condition," wheezed Wiggulf. "I vowed that the poisoner's staff would never rule in my lands. Break the staff and take the stone from that serpent's head. Then you may make your attempt."

"Agreed," said Og instantly.

Cheyne snatched the rod and banged the red stone loose on a large river rock, then broke the staff under his heel in one swift motion. Claria dove for the ajada, and desperately, Wiggulf put his hand upon Og's head, spoke a word none of them could understand, and changed places with the songmage.

Og smiled weakly, took the ajada from Claria, holding

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it in one hand and the water sapphire in the other, and began to sing the same song Wiggulf had attempted. The water sapphire seemed to catch fire in Og's hand, its dark blue depths lighting to an intense brilliance with the notes of the life song. The magical light blossomed over Og's head again, the ajada's red mingling with the sapphire's shades of blue and purple.

Cheyne could hardly believe his eyes, much less his ears. Og's voice had become resonant and clear, full of life. Tears formed in Claria's eyes and spilled unbidden down her face. Frijan broke into joyous laughter as Wiggulf s back and legs straightened, and the pall of Rotapan's accumulated poisons lifted from his face. As Og finished, the stones' light receded. The skin on Claria's ankle was smooth, Cheyne's neck no longer hurt, and the selkie king stood on his own, marveling that his twisted body was restored and whole.

And Yob woke up.

"Where -.. am I? What is this place? Womba?" he rasped weakly, raising himself on his callused elbows.

"You are in the territories of Wiggulf, king of the selkies," said Cheyne. "And Ogwater has brought you back from your final journey, Yob."

"Your daughter is safe also, ore. We escaped together, she breaking down the dungeon gate. We managed the swim to the middle of the Silver Sea. I left her waiting in the shelter of the old bridge ruins for the help I promised. It will take a while for my people to rig a raft for her, but she will be along shortly," said Wiggulf.

Yob smiled hugely and threw himself onto the song-mage in a crushing hug. His strength, apparently, had been completely restored. "I will never forget this. My house owes yours the life-debt, Og," said Yob.

Then a shadow of confusion passed over the ore's face and his skin prickled visibly. He put the songmage down. "I was cold and tired. Then I saw the land beneath the hills. I saw the old ones, waiting there. I saw a great city, full of bright things, strange

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machines, and also many bones. Where was this place I went to? I did not see any of you there. Then I heard a terrible sound, like your singing, only very bad. The sound reached into my chest, hurting like a dagger, and pulled me from the darkness, and then 1 am here." He looked puzzled. "What are you doing with Rotapan's staff, Og?"

"Urn, this won't hurt a bit. Just stand still, Yob," said Og, as he took up the bronze end of the broken staff and swung it mightily at the ore's head.

The impact would have killed a man, but Yob's eyes suddenly cleared, and he grinned again.

"Feeling better now? You just had a bit of the death shock hanging about. You'll forget all about it in a little while." Og tossed down the staff.

"About what?" said Yob. "I'm hungry. Let us hunt."

"No, no. We will feast in my lodge. You will honor my homecoming with your appetites." Wiggulf laughed. "Frijan, let us bring our guests to a bountiful table. Tell the guards to fish for a feast. The hall will be merry tonight."

"But Father-we have so little. How-?" Frijan began.

"The table of a generous person will never be bare, daughter. We will have plenty." Wiggulf hushed her. "If nothing else, my girl, there seems to be an abundance of crabs!"

Saelin woke up with a fiddler crab on his face. And a few hundred more dancing on his chest.

He lay sprawled upon one of the old bridge pilings, the one closest to the beach. Saelin sat up abruptly, and when the crabs scurried to find their holes, the one on his face dove for the nearest long, thin nostril. Saelin slapped hard at the crab, then recoiled in pain as he smacked his sunburned face, still tender with the cuts from Claria's combs. The assassin bellowed and