"No," the Lady Maelen said slowly. "That I have done for myself. I am grateful that you do not turn from me."

"There is this – " The woman held forth a wand which one of the men had handed to her.

"No, that I leave also. I am no longer a Moon Singer, Elder. I sang death to the past – "

"You did as it seemed fit. But, yes, the wand is not a part of the future for you. And you are wise in your own way. Where do you go now?"

"Out to the stars!"

"And the enemy who would trace you?"

"Perhaps dead, perhaps alive. But that is a matter for the future – "

"And you, Krip Vorlund?"

He took a step forward until he stood equal with Maelen to confront them all.

"Where she goes thus do I also."

The Elder nodded and then looked to Farree, whose wings moved wide to show the gleaming patches on them.

"And you, little brother?"

He drew a deep breath and voiced it now, just as it had come to him from the moment that those spans of glory had broken from his ugliness.

"I would find my world—"

"So be it. And we wish you three well. You have done what was to be done – hold it not in your memories as any evil. Time turns awry and straight in many ways. We grant you time as a companion, and may it serve you well."

Farree opened and closed his wings, his head held high now. Time – there was time always ahead, even though a man could hold nothing but now in his two hands. He would have his chosen now – he vowed that. Suddenly he felt his hand taken by the Lady Maelen and he realized that his time would be their time also. For the first time in his life he was warmly content.