Wigg sighed. If he could have taken back parts of those days, he would.

"I voted for my nation," he said sadly. "In hindsight, I've come to see that many of our decisions were wrong. But both Eutracia and her monarchy were new, and still in great distress. The survival of our land and the foretold coming of the Chosen Ones were far more important than the two of us, or what we may have wanted for ourselves. Surely you can see that. And like you, I have suffered much. I'm not naive, Abbey, so I won't ask you to forgive me. But the best, most personal gift I could bestow upon you before you left was the time enchantments. Had the Directorate discovered what I had done, there would surely have been a great scandal; perhaps even my own banishment from the Directorate, given the harsh, reactionary attitudes of those days. But now all of my friends of that august body are dead."

He paused, wondering how his next words would be received, then laced his long fingers together and placed his hands on the table.

"As I said, Abbey, we need you," he continued softly. "When I leave here, I want you to come back to Tammerland with me."

Stunned, she looked at him with wide eyes.

"No!" she said flatly. "I won't do it! Why should I? My life is good here, and the people here have come to rely on me for healing. Here, at least, I am allowed to practice my arts in peace."

"Until four days ago, that is," Wigg reminded her gently. "I can make you come back with me, and we both know it. I won't do that, but hear me out. If Krassus truly has a partial adept with him, and if we are ever to even the odds of defeating him, then we must have one, too. I have a feeling these scrolls he referred to are extremely important, and that if we don't find them and Wulfgar before Krassus does, our world may irrevocably change-for the worse. And what if Krassus comes back? With us you would be far safer."

The twinkle returned to his eyes, and he smiled knowingly. "Besides," he added, "wouldn't you like a chance to get even?"

Abbey thought for a time, her jaw clenching. "I will consider your words," she said finally. "But how could I be of help, while all of my stores and books remain here?"

"My friend Faegan has a great many herbs growing in an atrium in his mansion in a place called Shadowood," Wigg told her. "And we can have all of your books and charts brought to Tammerland." He smiled, thinking of the Archives of the Redoubt. "And you'll have more scrolls and books than you can imagine at your disposal."

Wigg smiled to himself. If he could convince Abbey to come, it would be very interesting to see someone teach Faegan something for a change. Abbey turned to look at Celeste, though, and her face darkened.

"We have talked too long," she said urgently. "We must attend to your daughter."

Celeste's breathing had become more labored, and beads of sweat stood on her pale forehead.

The herbmistress thought for a moment. "It's the honey," she said at last, half to herself.

"Of course," Wigg answered. "Her ingestion of the honey was the trigger that activated her first Forestallment. So simple an act…"

"No, no-you don't understand," Abbey said. "There is more to it than that."

"What do you mean?"

"Honey is the key to our problem," she told him. "But first I must find my charts of opposites."

Perplexed, Wigg watched her walk to the far wall of the cottage. She pushed on one side of it, and the entire wall rotated on a hidden pivot to reveal a bookcase lined with ledgers, texts, and scrolls. A much smaller room could be seen beyond, containing a desk and many piles of reference materials, as well as a store of additional herbs and oils. Luckily, this room seemed to have been untouched by Krassus. Abbey selected a text from one of the shelves, blew the dust from it, and returned to the table. The binding read Charts of Opposites, Letters H-I.

Wigg waited patiently as she leafed through the book. Finally she stopped, running one finger down a dog-eared page. On it was a drawing of a wheel divided into equal-sized, pie-shaped sections.

"What are 'charts of opposites'?" Wigg asked.

"Just as the craft has its dark and light aspects, every other thing existing in the universe also has its direct opposite," she answered. "And in some cases, more than one. Look at this."

She passed the book over to Wigg. "This page is only one of dozens whose words begin with the letter 'h,' " she said. "Run your finger around the circle until you find the word 'honey.' Then go directly to the opposite side, and read aloud what it says."

Wigg did as she asked, finally finding and speaking the words "powdered tetturess," and "oil of hibernium: Leaf Only." He looked up at Abbey.

"Are you saying these two substances are nature's direct opposites to honey?" he asked skeptically. "How can you be so sure?"

"By way of hundreds of years of careful experimentation," she answered simply. She raised an eyebrow. "I wrote this book myself."

Walking to her shelves, she began her search. After some time, she returned to the table with a green bottle. When Abbey uncorked it, Wigg saw that it contained a violet oil.

"I still don't understand," he said, furrowing his brow. He watched as she began measuring out a portion into a thick porcelain cup. "This problem is of the craft. How are these substances going to help?"

"The honey she ingested is no doubt still in her bloodstream," Abbey answered as she concentrated intently on her work. "And from what you told me, it was the catalyst that set everything else in motion. The direct opposites of honey are hibernium-just the oil squeezed from the leaf, mind you, not from the wood-and powder of tetturess blossom. They are even more potent when combined. If she ingests them in both the proper ratios and amounts, they should neutralize the honey in her system."

As she spoke, she finished measuring out the oil. Then she looked around her smashed cottage, and her face darkened.

"This oil remained safe in the other room," she said. "But my bottle of tetturess blossom was taken by Krassus. Turn to the back of the book until you find the pages labeled 'Diagrams of Substitutions,' and tell me what the substitution is for tetturess blossom. I could probably guess, but I'd rather be sure."

Wigg thumbed to the back of the book and found the diagram. "Dried stalk of widow's wart," he answered without looking up. "It also says that if widow's wart is not available, then flakes of dried newt's skin will also suffice."

Abbey nodded. "My widow's wart was also taken," she said angrily, "but I think I still have the newt's skin. The widow's wart would have been better, but we'll just have to make do with what we have."

Rising from her chair, she walked to one of the shelves that was broken at one end and had half fallen to the floor. After a good bit of rummaging around she finally produced a small tin, which she brought back to the table. She opened the lid and removed what appeared to be a small, square patch of dried leather. It was gray, with pink spots. She scraped some of the skin off with a knife, and dropped the resultant flakes into the cup with the oil. Satisfied for the moment, she looked back at Wigg.

"We are fortunate that the necessary ingredients for this potion survived the destruction here," she commented. "Still, that is only half the battle."

Wigg understood. "As the mixture counteracts the honey, I must also use my powers, trying to bring her consciousness back to the surface," he mused.

"Correct."

Abbey went to a sideboard to retrieve a copper pitcher, and filled it with water. She transferred the ingredients from the mortar into an iron pot, poured in a measure of water, and stirred it slowly with a wooden spoon. Then she placed the iron pot on the hearth hook and swiveled it over the flames.