Leesil's eyes darted back and forth between the sage and Magiere, unsure what was happening. Chap whined loudly, and barked twice.

"No?" Leesil said, looking to the dog. "No to what?"

Magiere kept her angry eyes on the sage as she joined Chap once again.

She heard an eerie scream in the distance, and a hissing sound much closer. A glimmer flew through a tree only a stone's throw into the forest. It was the child ghost who had led her to Ubad.

"We don't have time to burn bodies," Magiere said. "Ubad is dead, but his servants are still out there. We need to go."

"They're coming back?" Leesil said. "There was wind earlier that seemed to drag them all away."

He stepped slowly, either in fatigue or in fear of startling Wynn as he neared the young sage.

'Time to leave," he said quietly.

Wynn's effort failed all at once as the sword tip dropped to the ground. Leesil picked up the blood-soaked bandage at her feet. He pressed it into her shoulder, closing the torn short robe over it.

Chap led the way, holding his rear left leg off the ground now and then as he loped ahead. Leesil was beside Wynn, and it was difficult to tell who held whom up as they hurried. Magiere followed last, watching both ahead and behind.

She spotted open space ahead out ahead. They were almost free of this marshland forest, filled with its apparitions of the dead and scaled coils of night. A wail rang out through the trees behind them, growing louder, closer, and Magiere looked back.

The grizzled soldier with the stomach wound rushed through the air toward her.

"Run!" she shouted. "The forest ends just ahead."

Leesil glanced back, caught sight of the ghost, and gripped Wynn's shoulders, propelling her forward. Magiere drew her falchion, flashing it in the air as she tried to catch the spirit's attention.

More illuminant shapes appeared among the trees. Spirits dived through her but caused her no pain. When she thought her companions neared the forest edge, she ran after them. She wished only to be away from this place and the discoveries of this night.

Leesil, Chap, and Wynn had broken through the tree line and waited in the open. She ran for them, and when she passed the last tree, the wails behind her grew. Leesil caught her in midstep to steady her, and they both turned to look back.

Angry spirits passed through high branches and back down again. They wailed and cried out, but none passed beyond the forest's edge.

Behind Magiere was the old ruined keep, and she saw their wagon and Port and Imp waiting outside the stockade. She wished for at least some dull relief, but she felt nothing at all.

"Wynn's shoulder needs attention," Leesil said.

Magiere couldn't look at the sage. "You see to it once we're under way."

As the others trudged toward the wagon, Magiere looked back to the spirit-laden forest. With all that had happened there, she'd forgotten one who hadn't been saved. Leesil was more worn than she was, Chap limped, and Wynn was wounded. There was no time to go back for one who'd been left behind.

Magiere turned away toward the wagon with sudden shame, her mother's bones left in a tomb of granite.

Welstiel did not know how long he'd been unconscious, but the night was fully dark, and he felt no approach of dawn. Ghosts wailed all around, and he tried to shut out their clamor. Weakened and tired, he climbed to his feet and remembered Ubad was dead. He stepped into the clearing for one last look.

There was blood on the ground-he could smell it-but there was no sign of the necromancer's corpse.

Welstiel gazed into the tree line all around him.

Perhaps one of the minions had retrieved the body, but he had no intention of investigating further. Not at the risk of being discovered while depleted and alone. His role here was done. He would find Chane, scry for Magiere, and leave this place for what he hoped would be the last time.

He walked slowly through the dank forest, opening his senses to the night. He wanted to avoid being seen by anything living, should Magiere and her companions still be nearby. Nothing living entered his awareness. What he did smell was the stench of decay and putrefaction.

The scent grew stronger as he walked, until he had to withdraw the willful expansion of his senses as he stepped into a small clearing.

There were the two bodies of animated dead he had seen earlier this night-and Chane.

Welstiel stood there for a long while.

Finally he stepped closer, looking down at Chane's fallen sword and at the black fluid soaked into the collar and front of his fine white shirt.

Chapter 18

L eesil drove the wagon into a bustling village before dusk on the second day after leaving the ruins near Apudalsat. The sight of an inn with soft smoke billowing from its chimney brought some small relief.

The past two days had been filled with painful silence. Magiere sat beside him on the wagon bench, ignoring Wynn and speaking to him only when necessary. Wynn was curled into a ball beneath her blanket in the wagon's back and often seemed lost and far away even when her eyes were open. Leesil had applied salve to her wound and bound it as best as he could, but the worst of her injury wasn't to her body. She hadn't spoken since leaving the clearing and Chane's corpse.

As yet, Leesil was uncertain what had transpired between Magiere and the spirit of her mother. They needed time alone for that, and a night's separation would be best for Wynn and Magiere. He climbed down from the wagon, found the innkeeper, paid for two rooms, and arranged for the care of Port and Imp. Then he returned for their belongings.

"There's a hallway in the back of the common room," he told Magiere. 'Take the first room on the left while I settle Wynn in the next one. Chap can stay with her tonight."

Magiere looked at him without blinking. She glanced down at Wynn's form curled in the wagon's back. Without a word, she climbed out, grabbed their trunk by herself, and carried it inside.

Leesil climbed into the wagon's back and crouched down beside Wynn. He was still exhausted from facing Vordana, but he could carry her if need be.

"There's a soft bed waiting. Can you walk?"

Wynn stirred but didn't look at him. "I can walk."

Hearing her voice was encouraging. Leesil stepped off the wagon and reached up to grasp her by the waist and lift her down. Chap ambled along beside them to the inn. His limp had lessened over the passing days.

Leesil settled Wynn on the end of the bed in her small room. It had a straw mattress, but by its bulk, it had been recently restuffed and would be suitably soft. The innkeeper left hot water in a small lidded pot, so he added tea leaves from Wynn's pack. While he waited for them to steep, he pulled back the bed's old quilt.

"Let's take your boots off and get you settled."

He helped with the boots, and she obeyed him without a word. He checked her bandage, pulled the quilt up around her chin, and then knelt down close to her face.

"Magiere did what she had to. I'd have done the same."

"No, you wouldn't have," she whispered, staring up at the bare rafters in the ceiling.

"Yes," he said firmly. "Chane wasn't some undead boy living on small animals in the wild. He tried to kill Magiere in Bela, and he tried to burn Chap alive. I'd have punched a blade through his throat without a second thought. That is what we do, and you're the one who asked to join us."

Wynn rolled away from him, and it was a long moment before she spoke. "Will she send me away?"

"No. She would never abandon you here," he said, and reached out to stroke the back of her hair. "And I wouldn't let that happen either. You're part of this now, for better or worse, but you'll have to earn her trust again. In time, perhaps, she'll be back to growling at you."