PROLOGUE The first time Rafel told his father he wanted to travel beyond Barls Mountains he was five, sailing towards six. When Da said no, Meister Tollins expedition didnt need any little boys to help them, he cried but not for long, because he had a new pony, Dancer, and Mama had promised to come watch him ride. And then, ages and ages later, the expedition came backwhich was a surprise to everyone, since it was declared lostand he was glad he hadnt gone with Meister Tollin and the others because while they were away exploring, four of the seven men sickened and died, wracked and gruesome for no good reason anyone could see. Not even Da, and Da knew everything.

Once all the fuss was died down, some folk cheering and some weeping, on account of the men who got buried so far away, Meister Tollin came to tell Da what had gone on while they were over Barls Mountains. They met in the big ole palace where all the grown-up government things happened, where the royal family used to live once, back in the days when there was a royal family.

He knew all about them grand folk, cause Darran liked to tell stories. Da said Darran was a silly ole fart, and that was mostly true. He was old as old now, with an old mans musty, fusty smell. His hair was grown all silver and thin, and his eyes were nearly lost in spiderweb wrinkles. But that didnt matter, cause the stories he told about Lurs royal family were good ones. There was Prince Gar, Das best friend from back then. Darran talked about him the most, and blew his nose a lot afterwards. There was the rest of the royal family: clever Princess Fane and beautiful Queen Dana and brave King Borne. It was sad how they died, tumbling over Salberts Eyrie. Darran cried about that too, every time he remembered but it didnt stop him telling the stories.

Youre young to hear these tales, Rafel, but I wont live forever, hed say, his face fierce and his voice wobbly. And I cant trust your father to tell you. He has funny notions, the rapscallion. But you must know, my boy. Its your birthright.

He didnt really understand about that. All he knew was he liked Darrens stories so he never breathed a word about em in case Da fratched the ole man on it and the stories went away.

He especially liked the one about Da saving the prince from being drownded at the Sea Harvest Festival in Westwailing. That was a good story. Almost as good as hearing how Da saved Lur from the evil sorcerer Morg. But Darran didnt tell him that one very often, and when he did he always said not to talk about it after. He didnt cry, neither, after telling it. He just went awful quiet. Somehow that was worse than tears.

When he overheard Da telling Mama about Meister Tollin coming to see him, in the voice that said he was worrited and cross, Rafel knew if he didnt do a sneak hed never find out what was going onand he hated not knowing. The trouble with parents was they never thought you were old enough to know things. They praised you for being a clever boy then they told you to run away and play, dont bother your head about grown-up business.

He got so cross when they said things like that he had to hide in his secret place and crack stones with his magic, even though Da would wallop him if he found out.

Of course he knew perfectly well he wasnt supposed to do a sneak. He wasnt supposed to do any kind of magic, not just stone-cracking, not unless Da or Mama was with him. Or Meister Rumly, his tutor. Da and Mama said it was dangerous. They said because he was special, a prodigy, he had to be very careful or someone might get hurt. He thought they were boring and silly, all that fussing, but he did as he was told. Mostly. Except sometimes, when he couldnt hold the magic in any more, when it skritched him so hard he wanted to shout, he danced leaves without the wind or made funny water shapes in his bath. Only playing. There was no harm in that.

The time when Da said he and Meister Tollin were going to meet and talk about the failed expedition, that was when he was sposed to be in his lessons. But the moment Meister Rumly left him to work some problems on his own, and took himself off for a chinwag with Darran, he did the kind of earth magic that helped Mama creep up on a wild rabbit she wanted for supper and fizzled away to the white stone palace. He had to wait until there werent any comings and goings through its big double doors before he could hide in the tickly yellow lampha bushes beside the front steps. Waiting was hard. He kept thinking Meister Rumly would find him. But Meister Rumly didnt come, and nobody saw him scuttle into the bushes.

Da and Meister Tollin came along a little while after, and he held his breath in case they didnt choose to talk in the palaces ground floor meeting room where Da and the Mage Council made important decisions for Lur.

But they did, so once they were safely inside he crawled on his hands and knees between the lampha and the palace wall until he fetched up right under that meeting room window.

There, hunkered down on the damp earth, yellow lampha blossom tickling his nose so he had to keep rubbing it on his sleeve in case he sneezed, and got caught, and landed himself into wallopin trouble, he listened to what Meister Tollin had to tell Da about his adventure, that Da didnt want anybody else to hear.

The lands beyond the Wall were dark and grim, Meister Tollin said. Werent nothing green or growing there. No people, neither. All theyd found was cold death and old decay. Mouldy bones and abandoned houses, falling to bits. There wasnt even a bird singing in the stunted, twisted trees. That sorcerer Morg had killed everything, Meister Tollin said. Might be Lur was the only living place left in the whole world. It felt like it. On the other side of Barls Mountains it felt like they were all alone, in the biggest graveyard a man would ever see.

Meister Tollins voice sounded funny saying that, wobbly and hoarse and sad. Rafel felt his eyes go prickly, hearing it. All alone in the world. Meister Tollin was using tricky words but he understood what they meant. Most every day Mama told him he was too smart for his own good, but he didnt mind that kind of scolding because in her dark brown eyes there was always a smile.

Next, Da wanted to know why Meister Tollin and the others had broken their promise and not contacted the General Council through the circle stones they took with them. They couldnt, said Meister Tollin, sounding cross. In the dead lands beyond Barls Mountains their magic wouldnt work. Not gentle Olken magic, not pushy Doranen magic. They tried and they tried, but they had to do everything the hard way. Just by themselves, no magic to help out.

Rafel felt himself shiver cold. No Olken magic, the way it was before Da saved Lur? That was nasty. He didnt want to think on that.

Then Da wanted to know more about what happened to the four men who died. Three were Olken, and two of them were his friends, Titch and Derik. Theyd been Circle Olken, and helped him in the fight against Morg. Da sounded sad like Darran, saying their names. It was horrible, hearing Da sad. Scrunched so small under the meeting rooms open window, Rafel tried to think how hed feel if his best friend Goose died. That made his eyes prickle again even harder.

But before he could hear what Meister Tollin had to say about those men getting sick for no reason, Meister Rumly came calling to see where he was. His manky ole tutor had a sneaky Doranen seekem crystal that Olken magic couldnt fool. Meister Rumly was allowed to use it to find him. Da had said so.

It wasnt fair. There were rules about that for everyone else, about using Doranen magic on folk. There were rules for pretty much everything to do with magic and big trouble if people broke thembut sometimes they did and then Da had to go down to Justice Hall and wallop em the way grownups got walloped. He hated doing that. Speaking on magic at Justice Hall got Da so riled only Mama could calm him down.

Remembering his fathers fearsome temper, Rafel crawled his way out of the lampha bushes and scuttled to somewhere Meister Rumly could find him and not cause a ruckus. If there was a ruckus Da would come out to see why and his tutor would tell tales. Then Da would ask what hed been up to and hed say the truth. Hed have to, because it was Da. And he didnt want that, because when Da said Rafel, you be a little perisher too smart for his own good he hardly ever smiled. Not with his face and not in his eyes.

So he took himself off to the Tower stables and let Meister Rumly find him hobnobbing with his pony. Knowing full well hed been led on a wild goose-chase, his tutor wittered on and on as they returned to lessons in the Tower. And all the long afternoon, bored and restless, he wondered and he wondered what else Tollin told Da.

That night at supper, sitting at the table in the fat round solar where they ate their meals, his parents talked a bit about Meister Tollins expedition. They didnt mention any of the scary parts, because his stinky baby sister was there, banging her spoon on her plate and making stupid sounds instead of saying real words like Uncle Pellens little girl could. He wished Da and Mama would send Deenie away so they could all talk properly.

So thats that, said Da, whod called Meister Tollin a fool for going, and the others too, even though Titch and Derik were his friends. Its over. And therell be no more expeditions, I reckon.

Really? said Mama, her eyebrows raised in that way she had. Because you know what people are like, Asher. Let enough time go by and

Da slurped down some spicy fish soup. Fixed that, didnt I? he growled. Tollins writin down an account of what happened. Every last sinkin thing, nowt polite about it. Ill see it copied and put where it wont get lost, and any fool as says we ought to send more folk over Barls Mountains then Tollins tale will remind em why that aint a good idea.

Mama made the sound that said she wasnt sure about that, but Da paid no attention.

Any road, aint no reason for the General Council to give the nod for another expedition, he said. Tollin made it plainthere aint nowt to find over the mountains.

Not close to Lur perhaps, said Mama. But Tollin didnt get terribly far, Asher. He was only gone two months, and most of that time was spent dealing with one disaster after another.

He got far enough, Da said, shaking his head. Morg poisoned everything he touched, Dath. Aint nowt but foolishness to think otherwise, or to waste time frettin on whats so far away.

Oh, Asher, Mama said, smiling. Das grouching nearly always made her smile. After six hundred years locked up behind those mountains, you cant blame people for being curious.

Six hundred years. Rafel could hardly imagine it. That was about a hundred times as long as hed been alive. Mama was right. Of course people wanted to know. He wanted to know. He was as miserable as she was that Meister Tollin and the others hadnt found anything good on the other side of Barls Mountains.

But Da wasnt. He gave Mama a look, then soaked his last bit of bread in his soup. Reckon I can blame em, yknow, he grumbled around a full mouth. That wasnt good manners, but Da didnt care. He just laughed when Mama said so and was ruder than before. You tell me, Dath, whats curiosity ever done but black the eye of the fool who aint content to stay put?

Rafel saw his mother cast him a cautious glance, and made his face look all not caring, as though he really was a silly little boy who didnt understand. Tollin and the others were only trying to help, she murmured. And Im sorry things went wrong. I wanted to meet the people who live on the other side of the mountains. I wanted to hear their stories. And now we find there arent any? I think its a great pity.

With a grunt Da reached for the heel of fresh-baked bread on its board in the centre of the table. Tearing off another hunk of it, he glowered at Mama. Not angry at her, just angry at the world like he got sometimes. Da was never angry with Mama.

I tell you, Dathne, he said, waving the bread at her, heres the truth without scales on, proven by Tolinthere aint no good to come of sniffin over them mountains. What price have we paid already, eh? Titch and Derik dead, it be a cryin shame. Pik Mobley too, that stubborn ole fish. And that hoity-toity Lord Bram. Reckon a Doranen mage shouldve bloody known better, but he were a giddy fool like the rest of em. They shouldve listened to me. Aint I the one who told em not to go? Aint I the one told em only a fool pokes a stick in a sharks eye? I am. But they wouldnt listen. Both bloody Councils, they wouldnt listen neither. And all weve got to show for it is folk weepin in the streets.

Sighing, Mama put her hand on Das arm. I know. But lets talk about it later. Supper will go cold if we go on about it now.

There aint nowt to talk on, Dath, said Da, tossing his bread in his empty bowl and shoving it away. Whats done is done. Cant snap mfingers and bring em all back in one piece, can I?

Da was so riled now he sounded like the cousins from down on the coast, instead of almost a regular City Olken. He sounded like the sky looked with a storm blowing up. Even though stinky Deenie was a baby, three years old and still piddling in her nappies, she knew about that. She threw her spoon onto the table and started wailing.

There now, Asher! said Mama in her scolding voice. Look what youve done.

Rafel rolled his eyes as his mother started fussing with his bratty sister. Scowling, Da pulled his bowl back and spooned up what was left of his soup and soggy bread, muttering under his breath. Rafel kept his head down and finished his soup too, because Da didnt like to see good food wasted. When his bowl was empty he looked at his father, feeling his bottom lip poke out. He had a question, and he knew itd tickle him and tickle him until he had an answer.

Da? Can I ask you something?

Da looked up from brooding into his soup bowl. Aye, sprat. Yknow you can.

He felt Mamas eyes on him, even though she was spooning mashed-up sweet pickles into the baby. Da, dont you want anyone going over the mountains? Not ever?

No, said Da, and shook his head hard. Aint no point, Rafe. Everythin we could ever want or need, we got right here in Lur. He looked at Mama, smiling a little bit, with his eyes all warm cause he loved her so much. Da riled fast, but he cooled down fast too. We got family and friends and food for the table. What else do we need, that we got to risk ourselves over them mountains to find?

Rafel put down his spoon. Da was a hero, everyone said so. Darran wasnt the only one who told him stories. Da hated to hear folk say it, his face went scowly enough to bust glass, but it was true. Da was a hero and he knew everything about everything

But I dont believe him. Not about this.

Oh, it was an awful thing to think. But it was true. Da was wrong. There was something to find beyond the mountains, he knew itand one day, hed go. Hed find out what was there.

Then Ill be a hero too. Ill be Rafe the Bold, the great Olken explorer. Ill do something special for Lur, just like my da.

PART ONE CHAPTER ONE

It was a trivial dispute but that wasnt the point. The point, as he grew tired of saying, was that dragging a Doranen into Justice Hall, forcing him to defend his use of magic, was demeaning. It was an insult. Placing any Olken hedge-meddler on level footing with a Doranen mage was an insult. And that included the vaunted Asher of Restharven. His mongrel abilities were the greatest insult of all.

Father

Rodyn Garrick looked down at his son. What?

Kept out of the schoolroom for this, the most important education a young Doranen could receive, Arlin wriggled on the bench beside him. And that was another insult. In Bornes day a Doranen councilor was afforded a place of respect in one of Justice Halls gallery seatsbut not any more. These days the gallery seats remained empty and even the most important Doranen of Lur were forced to bruise their bones on hard wooden pews, thrown amongst the general population.

Arlin, what? he said. The hearings about to begin. And Ive told you Ill not tolerate disruption.

It doesnt matter, Arlin whispered. Ill ask later.

Rodyn stifled his temper. The boy was impossible. His mothers fault, that. One son and shed coddled him beyond all bearing. A good thing shed died, really. Undoing ten years of her damage was battle enough.

Justice Hall buzzed with the sound of muted conversations, its cool air heavy with a not-so-muted sense of anticipation. Not on his part, though. He felt only fury and dread. Hed chosen to sit himself and his son at the rear of the Hall, where theyd be least likely noticed. Aside from Ain Freidin, against whom these insulting and spurious charges were laid, and her family, he and Arlin were the only Doranen present. Well, aside from his fellow councilor Sarnia Marnagh, of course. Justice Halls chief administrator and her Olken assistant conferred quietly over their parchments and papers, not once looking up.

Everyone was waiting for Asher.

When at last Lurs so-called saviour deigned to put in an appearance, he entered through one of the doors in the Halls rear wall instead of the way entrances had been made in Bornes day: slowly and with grave splendour descending from on high. So much for the majesty of law. Even Ashers attire lacked the appropriate richnessplain cotton and wool, with a dowdy bronze-brown brocade weskit. This was Justice Hall. Perhaps Council meetings did not require velvet and jewels, but surely this hallowed place did.

It was yet one more example of Olken contempt.

Even more irksome was Sarnia Marnaghs deferential nod to him, as though the Olken were somehow greater than she. How could the woman continue to work here? Continue undermining her own peoples standing? Greater? Asher and his Olken brethren werent even equal.

Arlins breath caught. Father?

With a conscious effort Rodyn relaxed his clenched fists. This remade Lur was a fishbone stuck in his gullet, pinching and chafing and ruining all appetitebut he would serve no-one, save nothing, if he did not keep himself temperate. He was here today to bear witness, nothing more. There was nothing more he could do. The times were yet green. But when they were ripe oh, when they were ripe

Ill see a harvest gathered thats long overdue.

At the far end of the Hall, seated at the judicial table upon its imposing dais, Asher struck the ancient summons bell three times with its small hammer. The airy chamber fell silent.

Right, then, he said, lounging negligent in his carved and padded chair. Whats all this about? Youre the one complaining, Meister Tarne, so best you flap your lips first.

So that was the Olkens name, was it? Hed never bothered to enquire. Who the man was didnt matter. All that mattered was his decision to interfere with Doranen magic. Even now he found it hard to believe this could be happening. It was an affront to nature, to the proper order of things, that any Olken was in a position to challenge the rights of a Doranen.

The Olken stood, then stepped out to the speakers square before the dais. Bloated with too much food and self-importance, he cast a triumphant look at Ain Freidin then thrust his thumbs beneath his straining braces and rocked on his heels.

Meister Tarne it is, sir. And Im here to see you settle this matter with my neighbour. Im not one to go looking for unpleasantness. Im a man who likes to live and let live. But I wont be bullied, sir, and I wont be told to keep my place. Those days are done with. I know my place. I know my rights.

Asher scratched his nose. Maybe you do, but that aint what I asked.

My apologies, said the Olken, stiff with outrage. I was only setting the scene, sir. Giving you an idea of

What you be giving me, Meister Tarne, is piles, said Asher. Happens I aint in the mood to be sitting here all day on a sore arse, so just you bide a moment while I see if you can write a complaint better than you speak one.

As the Olken oaf sucked air between his teeth, affronted, Asher took the paper Sarnia Marnaghs Olken assistant handed him. Started to read it, ignoring Tarne and the scattered whispering from the Olken whod come to point and stare and sneer at their betters. Ignoring Ain Freidin too. Sarnia Marnagh sat passively, her only contribution to these proceedings the incant recording this travesty of justice. What a treacherous woman she was. What a sad disappointment.

Condemned to idleness, Rodyn folded his arms. It seemed Asher was in one of his moods. And what did that bode? Since Barls Wall was destroyed this was the twelfthno, the thirteenthtime hed been called to rule on matters magical in Justice Hall. Five decisions had gone the way of the Doranen. The rest had been settled in an Olkens favour. Did that argue bias? Perhaps. Butto his great shameRodyn couldnt say for certain. Hed not attended any of those previous rulings. Only in the last year had he finally, finally, woken from his torpor to face a truth hed been trying so hardand too longto deny.

Lur was no longer a satisfactory place to be Doranen.

So, said Asher, handing back the written complaint. Meister Tarne. You reckon your neighbourLady Freidin, therebe ruining your potato crop with her magework. Or did I read your complaint wrong?

No, said the Olken. Thats what shes doing. And Ive asked her to stop it but she wont. He glared at Ain Freidin. So Ive come here for you to tell her these arent the old days. Ive come for you to tell her to leave off with her muddling. Olken magics as good as hers, by law, and by law she cant interfere with me and mine.

Arlin, up till now obediently quiet, made a little scoffing sound in his throat. Not entirely displeased, Rodyn pinched the boys knee in warning.

How ezackly is Lady Freidin spoiling your spuds, Meister Tarne? said Asher, negligently slouching again. And have you got any proof of it?

Another hissing gasp. Is my word not enough? the potato farmer demanded. Im an Olken. Youre an Olken. Surely

Sighing, Asher shook his head. Not in Justice Hall, I aint. In Justice Hall I be a pair of eyes and a pair of ears and I dont get to take sides, Meister Tarne.

There are sworn statements, the chastised Olken muttered. You have them before you.

Aye, I read em, said Asher. Your wife and your sons sing the same tune, Meister Tarne. But that aint proof.

Sir, why are you so quick to disbelieve me? said the Olken. Im no idle troublemaker! Its an expense, coming here. An expense I cant easily bear, but Im bearing it because Im on the right side of this dispute. Ive lost two crops to Lady Freidins selfishness and spite. And since she wont admit her fault and mend her ways, what choice do I have but to lay the matter before you?

Asher frowned at the mans tone. Never said you werent within your rights, Meister Tarne. Laws plain on that. You are.

I know full well Im not counted the strongest in earth magic, said the Olken, still defiant. Im the first to admit it. But I do well enough. Now Ive twice got good potatoes rotted to slime in the ground and the market price of them lost. Thats my proof. And how do I feed and clothe my family when my purse is half empty thanks to her?

The watching Olken stirred and muttered their support. Displeased, Asher raised a hand. You lot keep your traps shut or go home. I dont much care which. But if you dont keep your traps shut Ill take the choice away from you, got that?

Rodyn smiled. If hed been wearing a dagger he could have stabbed the offended silence through its heart.

Meister Tarne, said Asher, his gaze still sharp. I aint no farmer, but even Ive heard of spud rot.

Well, sir, I am a farmer and I tell you plain, Ive lost no crops to rot or any other natural pestilence, said the Olken. Its Doranen magic doing the mischief here.

So you keep sayin, said Asher. But it dont seem to me you got a shred of evidence.

Sir, theres no other explanation! My farm marches beside Lady Freidins estate. Shes got outbuildings near the fence dividing my potatoes from her fields. She spends a goodly time in those outbuildings, sir. What she does there I cant tell you, not from seeing it with my own eyes. But my ruined potato crops tell the story. Theres something unwholesome going on, and thats the plain truth of it.

Unwholesome? said Asher, eyebrows raised, as the Olken onlookers risked banishment to whisper. Now, theres a word.

Rodyn looked away from him, to Ain Freidin, but still all he could see was the back of her head. Silent and straight-spined, she sat without giving even a hint of what she thought about these accusations. Or if they carried any merit. For himself he wasnt sure. Ain Freidin was an acquaintance, nothing more. He wasnt privy to her thoughts on the changes thrust so hard upon their people, or what magic she got up to behind closed doors.

Before it was a Doranen estate, the land next door to mine was a farm belonging to Eby Nye, and when it was a farm my potatoes were the best in the district, said the Olken, fists planted on his broad hips. Not a speck of slime in the crop, season after season. Two seasons ago Eby sold up and she moved in, and both seasons since, my crops are lost. You cant tell me theres no binding those facts. He pointed at Ain Freidin. That womans up to no good. Shes

That woman? said Ain, leaping to her expensively shod feet. You dare refer to me in such a manner? I am Lady Freidin to you, and to any Olken.

You can sit down, Lady Freidin, said Asher. Dont recall askin you to add your piece just yet.

Young and headstrong, her patience apparently at an end, Ain Freidin was yet to learn the value of useful timing. She neither sat nor restrained herself. You expect me to ignore this clods disrespect?

Last time I looked there werent a law on the books as said Meister Tarne cant call you that woman, said Asher. Im tolerable sure there aint even a law as says he cant call you a slumskumbledy wench if that be what takes his fancy. What I am tolerable sure of is in here, when I tell a body to sit down and shut up, they do it.

You dare say so? said Ain Freidin, her golden hair bright in the Halls window-filtered sunlight and caged glimfire. To me?

Aye, Lady Freidin, to you, Asher retorted, all his Olken arrogance on bright display. To you and to any fool as walks in here thinkin theyve got weight to throw around greater than mine. Out there? He jerked a thumb at the nearest window, and the square beyond it with its scattering of warmly dressed City dwellers. Out there, you and me, we be ezackly the same. But in Justice Hall I speak for the lawand in this kingdom there aint a spriggin as stands above it. Barl herself made that plain as pie. Whats more, theres a way we go about things when it comes to the rules and how we follow em and you aint the one to say no, well do this your way.

Enthralled, the watching Olken held their breaths to see what Ain Freidin would say next. So did Arlin. Glancing down at his rapt son, Rodyn saw in the boys face a pleasing and uncompromising contempt. So he was learning this lesson, at least. Good.

Asher picked up the summons bells small hammer. If I use this, Lady Freidin, he said, mild as a spring day now, and as changeable, the hearingll be over without you get to say a word in your defence. Dyou want that? Did you come all this way from Marling Vale to go home again a good deal lighter in your purse, without me knowin from your own lips how Meister Tarne lost his spuds to rot?

I cannot be deprived of my right to speak, said Ain Freidin, her voice thin with rage. You are not the law here, Asher of Restharven. One act of magical serendipity hardly grants you the right to silence me.

I dont want to silence you, Lady Freidin, said Asher. I want you to answer Meister Tarnes complaint. What are you up to in them outbuildings of yours?

Thats none of your business, Ain Freidin snapped.

Reckon it is, if what youre up to means Meister Tarne keeps losing his spuds, said Asher. Still mild, but with a glint in his eye. Folks be partial to their spuds, Lady Freidin. Boiled, mashed or fried, folks dont like to be without. Last thing we need in Lur is a spud shortage.

So Im to be blamed for the mans incompetence? Is that your idea of Barls Justice?

Asher idled with the bells hammer. Answer the question, Lady Freidin.

The question is impertinent! I am not answerable to you, Asher of Restharven!

As the watching Olken burst into shocked muttering, and Ain Freidins family plucked at her sleeve and whispered urgent entreaties, Arlin wriggled on the bench.

Is she right, Father? he said. Does she not have to say?

Rodyn hesitated. Hed told the boy to be quiet, so this was a disobedience. But the question was a fair one. By the laws established after the Wall fell, Lady Freidin is wrong. We Doranen must account for our use of magic.

To the Olken?

He nodded. For now.

But

Rodyn pinched his son to silence.

Ain Freidins family was still remonstrating with her, their voices an undertone, their alarm unmistakable. They seemed to think she could be brought to see reason. But Asher, clearly irritated, not inclined to give her any more leeway, smacked the flat of his hand on the table before him.

Reckon you be tryin my patience, Lady Freidin, he announced. Impertinent or not, its a question as needs your answer.

I am a mage, said Ain Freidin, her voice still thin. My mage work is complex, and important.

There! said the Olken farmer. You admit it! Youre up to no good!

Ain Freidin eyed him with cold contempt. I admit youve no hope of comprehending what I do. I suggest you keep your fingers in the dirt, man, and out of my affairs.

You hear that, sir? said the farmer, turning to Asher. She says it herself. Shes doing magic in those outbuildings.

That aint breaking the law, Meister Tarne, said Asher. Not if the magics in bounds.

And how can it be in bounds if my potato crops are dying? cried the Olken. Meister Asher

With his hand raised to silence the farmer, Asher looked again to Ain Freidin. Aye, well, thats the nub of this dispute, aint it? Lady Freidin, Barl made it plain to you Doranen what magic was right and what magic werent. So what mischief are you gettin up to, eh?

You can no more comprehend the complexities of my work than can thisthisclodhopper beside me, snapped Ain Freidin. Olken magic, if one can even call it magic, is not

Ill tell you what it aint, said Asher. It aint why were here. And I reckon Ive heard more than enough. He struck the bell with the hammer, three times. I declare for Meister Tarne. Lady Ain Freidin is fined twice the cost of his lost potato crops to cover Justice Hall expenses, five times their cost in damages plus one more for disrespecting Lurs rule of law, payable to him direct. And shes to pay a hundred trins to the City Chapel, seein how Barl never was one for proud and haughty folk of any stripe. Also shell be frontin up to the Mage Council on account of there being a question raised of unwholesome magic. Unless Leaning forward, Asher favoured Ain Freidin with a bared-teeth smile. She cares to have a friendly chat in private once the business of payin fines and charitable donations is sorted?

For a moment Rodyn thought the foolish woman was going to create an unfortunate scene. He found himself holding his breath, willing her to retain both dignity and self-control. Ain Freidin intrigued him. There was something about her, he could feel it. She had power. Potential. She was someone hed do well to watch. But if she forced Ashers hand

As though she could hear his thoughts, Ains braced shoulders slumped. A private discussion is agreeable, she said, her voice dull.

Then were done, said Asher. He sounded disgusted. Lady Marnagh will see to the details, and bring you to me once youve arranged payment of your fines.

Rodyn stood. Come, Arlin.

Leaving Ain Freidin to her fate, and the Olken rabble to cavort as they felt like, he led his son out of Justice Hall. Standing on its broad steps he took a deep breath, striving to banish his anger. A Doranen mage answerable to Asher of Restharven? The notion was repellent. Repugnant. An affront to every Doranen in Lur. But as things stood, there was nothing he could do about it.

As things stood.

It was past noon, but still enough of the late winter day remained to send messengers to discreet friends, call a meeting, discuss what had happened here.

And it must be discussed. The situation grows less tolerable by the day. I know how I would like to address it. The question is, am I alone?

He didnt know. But the time was ripe to find out.

Come, Arlin, he said again, and started down the steps.

Were walking back to the townhouse? said Arlin, staying put. But

He turned. Are you defying me, Arlin?

No, Father, Arlin whispered, his eyes wide. Of course not, Father.

Good, he said, turning away. Thats wise of you, boy.

Yes, Father, said Arlin, and followed him, obedient.

Sat at the desk in the corner of the townhouse library, tasked to an exercise he found so simple now it bored him to tears, Arlin listened to his father wrangle back and forth with his vistors over Lady Ain Freidin and her hearing in Justice Hall.

Theres no use in protesting her being called to account by an Olken, Rodyn, said Lord Baden, one of Fathers closest friends. The time to protest is ten years behind us. When Lur came crashing down around our ears, then we had the chance to mould the kingdom more to our liking. We didnt. And now were forced to live with the consequences.

Forever? said Father. Is that your contention, Sarle? That we meekly accept our portion without question until the last star in the firmament winks out?

Arlin flinched, tumbling his exercise blocks to the carpet.

What are you doing, boy? Father demanded. Must I interrupt my business to school you?

On his hands and knees, scrabbling under the desk to retrieve the scattered blocks, he fought to keep his voice from trembling. No, Father.

Get off the floor, then. Do your exercises. And dont interrupt again or youll be the sorrier for it.

Yes, Father.

The training blocks cradled awkward to his chest, he caught a swift glimpse of sympathy in Sarle Badens pale, narrow face. Fathers other visitor, Lord Vail, eyed him with a vague, impatient dislike. Cheeks flushed with embarrassed heat he got his feet under himself and stood. In the library fireplace, the flames leaped and crackled.

Lord Baden cleared his throat. Rodyn, my friend, I think you need to be a trifle less circumspect. Are you suggesting we foment social unrest? For I must be honest with you, I doubt the idea will be met with anything but distaste.

I agree, said Lord Vail. Life is comfortable, Rodyn. What Morg broke is long since mended. The royal familys not missed. Weve suffered no hardship with the fall of Barls Wall. I strongly doubt youll get anyone to agree with stirring trouble.

Arlin held his breath. Father hated to be contradicted. The blocks he held in his hands hummed with power, fighting against their proximity to each other. He subdued them, distracted, and waited to see what Father would do.

Father nodded. True, Ennet, he said, with a surprising lack of temper. Nothings changed in Lur. Unless of course you count the Olken and their magic.

But I dont, said Lord Vail, sneering. You cant say you do, surely? You cant even say its magic, Rodyn. Calling what the Olken do magic is like calling a candle-flame a conflagration.

Contradicted again, and still Father did not snap and snarl. Bemused, Arlin set the blocks on the desk and sat once more in his straight-backed chair. The blocks jostled before him, their energies tugging fitfully at each other. With a thought he calmed them, smoothed them to amity. Then, picking up the foundation block, he let his gaze slide sideways, beneath his lowered lashes, to see what happened next.

Instead of challenging Lord Vail, Father looked at Lord Baden. Sarle, what do you know of Ain Freidin? Didnt you court her cousin?

Lord Baden laughed. Years ago, without luck. And Ain was a child then.

What did you make of her?

Make of her? Lord Baden stared at Father, surprised. She was a child, Rodyn. What does one make of a child?

Whatever one needs, Father murmured, smiling faintly. Then he frowned. Was she precocious, when you knew her? Was she inclined to take risks?

Risks? Lord Baden tapped a thoughtful finger to his lips. I dont know, but now that you mention it, Rodyn she was certainly bold.

In the hearing she was accused of destructive magics.

Lord Vail grimaced. Youd take the word of an Olken?

Never, said Father. But I cant deny its likely she was caught out in some mischief. She accepted the adverse ruling and the fines without fighting them and was quick to avoid explaining herself to the Mage Council. That says to me she had something to hide.

Its your opinion shes been experimenting? said Lord Baden, after a moment. If thats so, then shes grown more than bold. He glanced over. But perhaps this isnt a fit topic of conversation. Young Arlin

You neednt concern yourself with Arlin, said Father. My son knows how to hold his tongue.

Its not his discretion Im concerned with, Rodyn. Hes a boy, yet. I dont care to

And I dont care to be lectured, Sarle, Father snapped. Arlin cannot learn soon enough what it means to be Doranen in this new Lur of ours.

For the life of me, Rodyn, I cant see what youre getting at, Lord Vail complained. Lur hasnt changed. We havent changed. All is as it was, aside from the Olken and their dabblings and as I keep telling you, they dont count. They werent important before and theyre not important now.

Father leaned forward in his comfortable leather armchair, elbows braced on his knees, his expression keenly hungry. Thats my point, Ennet. As Sarle so rightly has said, the destruction of Barls Wall and the fall of House Torvigthe end of WeatherWorkingthat was a moment when our lives could have changed. Should have changed. But we allowed ourselves to be overcome by the upheaval. We permitted ourselves to be paralyzed with guilt, over Morg, over Conroyd Jarralt, and Durm. Instead of seizing our chance to become more than what we are, we stepped back. We abased ourselves before the Olken. Instead of consigning that mongrel Asher to Olken oblivion we stood aside and countenanced his elevation to Lurs hero. Worse than thatsome of us even championed the brute.

Lord Vail and Lord Baden exchanged uncomfortable glances. Well, to be fair, Rodyn, said Lord Baden, he did save us from Morg.

And if he did? said Father. I think youll find he was merely saving himself. It was chance he saved the rest of us along with him. But even so, should we now, ten years later, continue to afford him authority over our lives?

Are you looking to challenge this latest ruling in Justice Hall? said Lord Vail. For I dont see how you can. If Ain Freidin was indeed experimenting then shes broken Barls Law of Magics. Thats nothing to do with Asheror any Olken. Any one of us sitting in judgement would have ruled against her.

True, said Father, and sat back. Ennet, that is quite true.

This isnt about Asher, or the Olken, is it? Lord Baden said quietly. This is about Barls magical prohibitions. This is about what we can and cannot do as Doranen. Am I right?

Instead of answering, Father got up from his chair and crossed to the cabinet that held his liquor and costly crystal glasses. Arlin busied himself with his blocks, pretending he wasnt listening. Pretending he didnt care, or understand. It was always better when Father forgot his presence.

Barls Law of Magics, said Father, pouring brandy for himself and his friends. I freely concede it served a purpose, once. When we were ruled by a WeatherWorker it served a purpose. Magical restraint was paramount in those days. Nothing could be permitted to disturb the balance lest the Wall be brought down.

And now there is no Wall, said Lord Vail. So it follows theres no need for such restraint? Thats your contention, Rodyn?

Smiling, Father handed his friends their drinks. Is it so outrageous a notion?

You want to experiment, is that it? said Lord Baden. Like Ain Freidin? If indeed she has been experimenting. Shes not admitted it.

Not in public, said Father, returning to his armchair with his own glass. Ill know what she admitted to Asher in private once the Mage Council next meets.

Rodyn, my friend, I sympathise with your frustration, said Lord Baden. I do. But I cant bring myself to think theres anything but danger in the notion of abandoning Barls prohibitions against experimental magics. It was Morgan and Barls unwise meddling that set our people on the road to ruin. Would you steer us into a second Mage War? When this tiny kingdom is the only untainted place we know, would you risk it for no better reason than youre bored?

Father tossed back his brandy in one angry swallow. Bored? I invite you to my home that we might discuss the future of our people and you call me bored? Sarle, Im insulted.

Wincing, Arlin abandoned the training blocks. Lord Baden shouldnt have said that. He was Fathers friend. Didnt he know better? Perhaps he thought Father wouldnt shout because they were both men.

Im sorry you feel that way, Rodyn, said Lord Baden. It wasnt my intent to insult you. And I cant fault you for feeling frustrated, or slighted, but

Father banged his emptied crystal glass on the wide oak arm of his chair. Slighted?

Now, now, Rodyn, theres no profit in working yourself into a temper, said Lord Vail. He sounded uneasy. And theres no need to take umbrage when Sarle says youre feeling slighted. Barl knows I do. And I warrant Sarle feels the same way. What you say is true. We did make a mistake in the weeks after Morg. We let that Asher and his woman and the rest of the Olken ride roughshod over us. But it happened, and whats done is surely done.

No, said Father. Whats done can be undone, if we have the will and the courage to undo it. Do you think Ain Freidin is the only Doranen tempted to explore forbidden magics?

Fathers friends stared at him. Rodyn, said Lord Baden, his voice husky. Surely youre not admitting

Ive broken no laws, said Father. Im not such a fool. Ill do nothing to jeopardise my place on the Mage Council. Someone needs to keep a close eye on Asher. But that doesnt mean I dont thinkdreamof a different future. It doesnt mean I dont envisage a time when our people are freed from the cage Barl made for us.

Lord Vail sipped his brandy. You think youre the man to turn the key in its lock?

I think Im the man whos noticed there is a lock, said Father. And a cage.

Then why do you need us? said Lord Baden. Why summon us here?

Father smiled. As I said, Sarle, Im no fool. I cant do this alone. I need good men, like yourselves, wholl help me make the dream a reality.

Fathers friends exchanged another look, guarded this time. And what is it you dream? said Lord Vail. These vague hints do you no credit, Rodyn. Come. Speak plainly, since we are your friends. What do you want us to help you make real?

Father turned his head. Arlin.

He jumped a little in his chair, then slid to his feet. Father.

Come here, said Father, beckoning.

Was it the blocks? Had he done something wrong with the blocks? But he hadnt, he knew he hadnt. They were stacked perfectly now, their competing energies correctly aligned. Nothing would scatter them. Until he released them they would stand tall and strong.

Arlin, said Father, his eyes narrowed, and snapped his fingers.

Doing his very best to conceal his trembling, he crossed the library to stand before his father. Sir.

Father handed him his emptied brandy glass. Transmute it.

What? said Lord Baden, startled. Rodyn, the boys ten. Hes not old enough to

Show him, Arlin, said Father. His eyes were glittering. Make a liar out of my dear friend, here.

Yes, sir, he said.

With an apologetic glance at Lord Baden, he balanced Fathers empty crystal glass on his carefully flattened palm. The brandy-smell lingered, smeared in traces of amber. It tickled his nose. Teased him almost to sneezing. He didnt like its sharp taste in his throat. But that wasnt important. Pleasing Father was important. He let his eyes drift half-closed, and coaxed his idled powers to life. They answered him readily, pliant and supple, and he understood why hed been set to working with the blocks. They were a limbering exercise. One trotted a horse before galloping. This was no different.

Transmute the glass. Into what? Father didnt say, so the choice must be his. A bird, perhaps. He liked birds. He envied them their wings, and the sky.

The transmutation incant flowed as easily as Fathers brandy. The sigils were in his fingers, waiting to be released. He felt the air ignite in brief fire. Felt the crystal warm, and melt, and remake itself as he commanded.

Amazing, said Lord Vail, and laughed. Rodyn, thats amazing.

Arlin willed his power to sleep then opened his eyes. Cooling and perfect on the palm of his hand, a crystal falcon. Curved beak open, wings mantled in defiance, it sparkled in the light from the librarys glimfire chandelier.

Hes only ten, said Lord Baden. He was staring at Father, the strangest look on his face. He can do this at ten? As I recall, you struggled with that incant when you were He stopped, and cleared his throat. What else can the boy do?

This and that, said Father, his eyes still frightening. Hes not without promise. But what good is promise, I ask you, when he is chained by the past? When he is bound by outdated prohibitions? Strangled by the fears of inferior men? My friends, Ive sired a mage who could rival Barl herself and who will ever know it?

This is your dream? said Lord Vail. To free Arlin?

Father stood. To free all of us, Ennet. For six hundred years weve cowered like field mice in the wheat, terrified of every shadow that flies overhead. But Morg is dead and all danger died with him. I say the time has come to stop cowering. I say we stand tall and proud in the sun and reclaim our heritage. We are Doranen, my friends. No more shame. No more apologies. No more fear.

Lord Baden was frowning. Stirring words, Rodyn. But what do they mean?

Sarle, said Father, they mean whatever we want them to mean. It is for us to decide. The future of our people is for us to mould, not the Olken. And not Barl either, six hundred years dead. So. Are you with me? Will you help me unlock the cage so our people might be set free?

I dont deny Im tired of answering to Olken, said Lord Vail. And I wont pretend Ive not had my own dreams of unfettered magic. Very well. Im with you, Rodynprovided we act within the law and provoke no violence.

No violence, said Father. A firm resolve only. Sarle?

Lord Baden stared at the crystal falcon. I have doubts, Rodyn. I think this will not be as easy as you imagine.

I dont imagine it will be easy, said Father. But I believe it is right.

Right, Lord Baden murmured. Well. Time will tell, I suppose. He nodded. But Im with you. Weve deferred to the Olken long enough.

Excellent, said Father. Arlin, you can go. And toss that thing in the fire. Crystal baubles are girlish.

There was no point protesting. Yes, Father.

As he passed the fireplace on his way to the library door he threw the falcon hed made into the greedy flames. Perhaps one day hed make another. When he was older, his own man, and Father could no longer tell him what to do.

He was very, very careful to close the door quietly behind him.

CHAPTER TWO

The feeling rolled through him as he wandered the cherry orchard Dathne had seen planted in the palace grounds. Not that there were any cherries to steal yetthe trees hadnt even started to bud. But winter was waning: the merest hint of springtime warmth in the sunshine kissed his cheek. That meant the cherry trees would soon be bursting blossom pink and swelling with fruit. It was a cheerful thought, and hed escaped out here to be cheered. To be alone. Just a snatch of peace and quiet in the fresh air, beneath the milky blue sky, before the demands of both Councils and Justice Hall dragged him under again.

And then the sickening surge of wrongness struck him, and he had to clutch at the nearest gnarled tree-trunk to keep his feet. Had to spit saliva to the damp, tangled grass, bent almost double, and hope he didnt lose his lunch. This was bad. Bad. The worst yet. The first time hed felt it when he werent asleep and trapped in dreams. And that meant he couldnt pretend any more. Couldnt shrug the feeling aside and call it too much apple pie and spiced cream close to bed. This time he had to face the awful truth. Something werent right in their small jewel of a kingdom.

Heart thudding, belly roiling, Asher closed his eyes and waited for the surging sickness to ease.

Sink me, he muttered, cautiously straightening at last. Bloody sink me.

It was a long, long while since hed felt this afraid.

Wiping his mouth on his jacket-sleeve, he looked around. He was still alone, but since hed told folk where hed be it most likely wouldnt stay the case. That ole trout Darran werent never happier than when there was something to nag about. He needed somewhere he could think this through. Somewhere hed not be found. That nobody would ever imagine hed be. But that were easier said than done. Being who he waswho hed become, against his willsuch a place werent so easy to find.

The answer came to him with a nasty jolt.

Barls Weather Chamber.

Of course. Not only cause it were quiet, but

His mouth still sour, his heart still thudding, he abandoned the sweet and peaceful orchard and made his way to the one place hed thought never to set foot in again. The place where one Asher had died, and another was born.

Panting a little, brushing dead leaves and forest cobwebs off his wool coat, he stood in the mostly overgrown clearing and stared at the Chamber. So long since hed been here. The day after Morg had brought down Barls Wall, hed come, and never once after.

Ten years now, just gone. Sink me its been that long?

Yes. That long. Because Rafel was ten now and that was how he measured the length of his life: his yardstick wasnt Gars death, or the Walls ruin, but the miracle of his first childs birthing. The promise of a future untainted by prophecy. A future hed not been sure would come to pass.

In the days and weeks following Morgs destruction, after the fall of Barls Wall, when feelings and fears were still running a mite high, thered been folk who called for this Weather Chamber to be torn down brick by stone by timber by nail, to be splintered and smashed and burned to rubble and cinders. Ripped from memory, from history, as though it had never been. But hed not agreed to that. Tear this chamber down, and in years to come folk might say it were only a story. The chamber, the magic, the way weather ruled in Lur. Folk might say none of that ever was. Things get made up, they might say. That aint nowt but a lullaby for spratlings.

And that was the time when old mistakes got made fresh.

In the raw aftermath of the kingdoms desolation, with the royal family gone and life turned topsy-turvy, hed had his way. He was Asher of Restharven, whod slaughtered Morg the sorcerer. Anything hed wanted hed got without a fuss. The folk whod bayed for his blood and then owed him their lives were eager to show him how bygones were bygones. No hard feelings. All friends now, eh?

Dont hate them, Dathne had told him. They were weak and afraid, Asher, but theyre not evil. Not like Morg.

Which was true enough. And besides, who was he to point fingers and complain with Gar dead to save him and all those harsh words between them never put right? So hed pushed aside his resentment, the most bitter of his memoriesrotten eggs, cruel jibes, crueler pikestaffs jabbingand done his best to see the kingdom restored to an even keel. Had succeeded, with the help of folk like Dathne and Pellen Orrick and those in the Circle whod not been lost along with Veira.

And now here he stood, staring at the Chambers rough-hewn blue stonework, at the glass dome atop it, knowing in his bones Lur was in trouble, again.

Fighting down misery, sick with resentment, he stamped his feet to warm them and then stamped inside.

The domed chamber was ezackly as Morg left it the day he died, with its circular wall still covered in charts and scribblings, legacy of that lost time when Barls will had ruled every life in Lur. Her magic map of the kingdom still took up most of the scuffed floor-space, too, nearly all of it spoiled by Morgs vicious meddling. Hard to stomach, that was. Of everything Barl made, her Weather map was the most beautiful. It had enchanted him even when hed been bludgeoned to moaning stillness by her Weather Magic but now only a few scraps of its beauty remained.

Even though hed come here to worrit and brood, he smiled at the spacious, grass-covered Dingles and the scattering of tiny untouched towns and villages. They were frozen, of course. Trapped between heartbeats, a forever reminder of the moment Barls Wall fell, and how that fall sundered the ancient marriage of weather and world.

He reached down to touch the Weather maps nearest edge. Just to give thanks. To acknowledge Barl and all shed done. For six hundred years shed kept them safe and well. What happened ten years ago werent her fault. His fingertip made contact, lightlyand a sparking of power leapt through his blood where the Weather Magic slept fast, undisturbed for years.

Shocked, he pulled his hand back.

No. That aint possible. Barls magic died. Didnt me and Dath and the rest of us feel her magic die? Didnt we see it die when Morg brought down her Wall?

Heart thudding hard again, blood woken and singing, he touched the Weather map a second, cautious time. Let his fingers rest there as he held a long, deep breath. Yes. He could feel something. Barl werent quite dead yet.

Or was it nowt but an echo? A taunting from the past, from a brief time when hed been lord of this place, Lurs weather, its magica king in everything but name.

Not that I ever wanted that, mind. Not that I did it for myself.

No. Hed done it for Gar, a good man. For their unlikely friendship. To thwart a man he didnt like. For reasons that mayhap didnt matter any more. Hed done it and hed paid the price. And unlike some others, hed lived to never tell that tale.

Oddly, the desperation of those dark days had mostly faded. He could remember being terrified. He recalled how trapped and put-upon hed felt. Thered been panic. Confusion. An endless wail of why me?

Of course, hed been young then. Fractious and bloody-minded. He was older now. A married man, a father twice over, reluctant head of Lurs Mage Council and sought-after voice on its General Council. Defender of the law in Justice Hall. Hed never wanted to be a leader, but ten years on still nobody asked what he wanted. Didnt matter he never cared for it, he had the knack of bein in charge. And after the Wall fell, and folk were so fratched and disordered, even the Doranen, they needed someone to boss em. To chivvy em down the road in the right direction. Besides after how hed saved em no-one wanted to let him go. They refused to believe they could get along without him. So hed stayed in Dorana City, even though he was desperate for the clean ocean. It was the only way he could think of to make his amends to Gar.

But it dont make me king, no matter what that ole fart Darran says.

Any road, it werent a bad life. How could he call it a bad life when he had Dathne and Rafel and little Deenie to love? When he had good friends like Pellen Orrick, and a purpose worth serving? An ungrateful bastard hed be, if he sat on his arse whingin on how he didnt have the whole world his own way. Thatd make him no better than that dead sea-slug Willer.

And if ever he woke from dreams of snowstorms, of gentle rain falling and the turbulence of sprouting seeds, of Weather Magic like boiling wine scouring his veins, well no life got itself lived without there werent some small regrets.

Beneath his resting fingers Barls map whispered and hummed. Not just an echo, but a real sizzle of power. Breathing out a slow sigh he drew back his hand a second time, then closed his eyes. Time surged like stormswell, and surging with it a single, searing memory: his first WeatherWorking.

He watched his shaking fingers draw the sigils as a voice he scarcely recognised recited the raincalling incantation. Watched the sigils burst into fiery life. Saw blue flames dance up and down his arms. Felt magics wind rise, gently at first, then stronger, and stronger still, till it buffeted him like stormbreath racing inland over the open sea. His blood bubbled with a power that remembered the ocean. He couldnt have stopped even if hed wanted to.

Barl save him. He didnt want to.

The air above the map begin to thicken. Darken. The power hed raised gave tongue in rumbling thunder and tearing cracks of lightning. He was hot and cold all at once. Shaking and utterly still. His body tingled, like the kissing of a hundred pretty girls. His hair spat sparks, and his fingers, and all the world shimmered bright and blue.

Then the rain burst forth and the world washed blue to red in a heartbeat as his blood exploded through the confines of his flesh, poured burning from his eyes, his nose, his mouth. And everywhere he turned there was pain.

Shouting, heart banging his ribs, Asher staggered back from the map. There was sweat on his face, running hot down his spine. He touched his nose, his eyes, then stared at his fingertips, expecting to see them daubed with blood.

They were clean.

Blotting his forehead on his woollen sleeve, he paced around the room, carefully not looking at Barls ruined map. Slowly, too slowly, the woken pains in his body slunk away to hide. His breathing eased. The vivid, wrenching memory receded.

All done now. All done. I aint livin that madness any more.

Sink me, he muttered, listening to the uneven thud of his boot heels on the scratched parquetry floor. Dont do that again, ygawpin great fool.

His voice sounded shocked and ragged, breaking the silence. And then he heard swift footsteps on the Chambers stone spiral staircase.

Asher? Are you up there? Asher!

Dathne.

She came through the open doorway and stopped short, seeing his face. Jervales mercy, are you all right?

He could cross Barls bloody Mountains himself and vanish in the shadows, fall into an endless, lightless abyss, sink himself to the bottom of Westwailing Harbourand he reckoned shed still find him. Shed come to drag him home. She was home, and always would be.

Im fine, Dath, he said, halting. Dont tell her. No need for her to be scared. Not yet. Im justjust hidin from Darran.

Dathnes gaze was keen. Darran and Rafe are book-buying down in the City.

Ah, he said. Good. Im safe a while, yet.

Still Dathne stared at him, skeptical. Hmm.

Ten years and two spratlings later, she hadnt changed a whit. Sometimes, caught looking at her, he thought hed see Matt any moment, so like her younger self did she seem to his eye. The Dathne of Doranas Market Square, that first day, and the Dathne who frowned at him now, they were the same woman. Small and lean and lithe, dark hair long and careless, clothes careless too. An important Olken shed become, but youd never know it to look at her. She wore silk like tired cotton and laughed when he gave her jewels.

Asher Dathne crossed the empty space between them and rested her palms against his chest. Tilted her head back to stare up into his face. This isnt about Darran.

A strand of hair escaped from braided confinement tickled her sharp-boned cheek. He curled it round his finger and tugged, gently. Course it is.

Asher, she said, pinching his chin between her thumb and forefinger, dont treat me like a fool. No-one comes to this Weather Chamber. Not any more.

You knew where to find me.

She smiled. When she smiled like that she near melted his bones. Well yes. Im Jervales Heir, remember? Lightly her fist punched above his drubbing heart. Or used to be. Her glorious smile faded, leaving her face and eyes sombre. Shimmering with fear. So no more games, my love. I know why you came here.

And she did, he could see it. Feel it. But he didnt want her to say it aloud. Once the words were spoken, what hed felt in the cherry orchard, in his dreams, would be trueand he didnt think he was ready to face this truth. Ten years of peace, theyd had, and continued prosperity.

Ten years aint long enough. We deserve longer than that.

Somethings stirring in Lur, she said, a hint of sudden tears in her voice. Somethingnot right. Its been making you restless at night. And a little while agothat same sense of unease, stronger than ever. Dont tell me you didnt feel it too, for I wont believe you.

As always, she stole his breath. Was there any part of him that stayed hidden from this woman? From before hed even laid eyes on her shed known more of him than he ever knew of himself. But he hadnt realised shed been feeling things too. That were irksome. How come she could always hide from him when he almost never managed to hide from her?

If you been feelin this, Dathne, why aint you said so? He sounded accusing, and didnt much care. Mayhap if they fratched a little theyd not talk about what frighted him.

I wanted to be wrong, she whispered, turning away. A breath caught in her throat, a small, stricken sound, and she turned back. Id give anything to be wrong. But I knew from the first I wasnt. Whats causing it? Do you know?

Since the day he killed Morgand Garhed hardly ever used the power in him, that hed never asked for or wanted. There was no need for it. What he did in both Councils and Justice Hall, that were thinking and talking and wheedling folk to see things sensible. A man didnt need magic for any of that.

But lately, it felt like his magic was stirring anyway.

Wakin up in a sweat in the small hours. Feelin the earth groan. Knowin Lurs earth-songs gone and changed its tunethat, too. All of its magic, whether I like it or not.

I aint sure, Dath, he said. Thats the truth.

She was frowning. Its not the Doranen, is it? Its not that arrogant Ain Freidin still thinking shes another Barl?

I dont reckon so. The fuddlin she were up to, that couldnt upset the earth. And she swore blind to me her lesson was learned. Besides, I aint heard from Farmer Tarne that hes lost any more crops and its been nigh on a month since the bloody woman was found out.

Still Dathne hugged her ribs. Dont stop watching her, Asher. Shes not to be trusted.

I know, he said. I aint recalling our man just yet.

Even though that didnt make life on the Mage Council with Rodyn Garrick any easier. Theyd already had sharp words, Garrick making it plain he didnt care for an Olken taking a Doranen to task over magic. When he learned Ain Freidin was being watched he near frothed himself into a spasm. But the rest of the Mage Council had over-ruled his objection.

Whats Garricks game? I cant work him out. Formal hearings in front of the Mage Council mean trouble for everyone. No keepin that quiet. Is that what hes after? Folk buzzin about Doranen magic just when Lurs pretty well stopped nightmaring about Morg? Why?

It was a good question, with no answer to it. But Rodyn Garrick werent his only worry. He was starting to worry about all the Doranen. Now that there was no Weather Magic to keep folk sensible, how many more Ain Freidins were out there, sneakin off to muck about with dangerous incants? Breaking Barls Law? Ain Freidin was lucky. A few slimed spuds on her conscience, no real harm done. But what about next time? Next time, could be, someone might get hurt. Or die.

I wish Matt was here, said Dathne, sorrow shadowing her face. Hed know who or what was causing this. He was the best I ever knew at feeling things in the world.

Aye, and so did he wish it. Not a day went by he didnt wish for Meister Matt. Couldnt walk into the Tower stables without remembering. Feeling grief. Seeing him shoeing a stallion, mending a blanket, stirring his smelly horse porridge on the tack-rooms old stove. Time was supposed to heal wounds, soften loss. Grass was supposed to grow green over a grave.

But not his grave. No, nor Gars. Im as wounded today as I was when they fell. And not even Dathne can bind those hurts.

Im sorry, she said, watching him closely. I didnt mean to stir up She sighed. Im sorry. You never talk of it, so I forget sometimes

Aint nowt to say, is there? he said, shrugging. We cant unmake the past.

And wouldnt if we could, she whispered, arms folding again to her ribs. Thinking not only of Matt, but Veira too, that bossy, managin ole besom. And the folk from her Circle who died before she knew them. Even if it hurts us.

Because her pain hurt him, because he couldnt kiss it away, he turned back to Barls Weather map. No, he agreed, reluctant. We wouldnt.

Dath shook herself. So lets not think on it. Weve a problem here and now to solve and no matter who or whats behind it, with luck theres still time to fix things before its too late.

Despairing, he shook his head. You reckon?

I reckon its time we told each other what little we know. For well have no hope if we keep secrets, she said sharply. Didnt we promise each other thered be no more secrets?

Aye. Theyd promised that. And theyd kept the promise for ten years because thered been no secrets to keep. He shoved his hands in his pockets, brooding.

I thought it were over, Dath. I thought once I killed Morg your sinkin prophecy was dead too, and Weather Magic put behind me for good. I thought Lur was free of all that.

She took a deep, unsteady breath. It is. Asher, it is.

No, Dath, it aint, he said, and nodded at the Weather map. Cause that bloody thing aint dead.

Not dead? she echoed. Asher, what are you talking about? Look at it. Morg destroyed Barls map when he brought down the Wall.

I wanted to believe that. But Dathne, Im tellin you, theres power in it still. I can feel it. And that cant be good.

Dathne circled the blighted Weather map, her eyes wide and trepidatious. How can there be power in it? Theres no more Weather Magic in Lur. Morg

I know thats what we thought, he said wearily. But we were wrong. Looks like Doranen magic dont die so bloody easy. Could be it dont die at all. Its fierce, Dath. It burns. It wants toto live.

It wasnt a truth hed ever shared with her before, knowing it would steal her hard-won peace of mind. It werent a secret, not ezackly. Just a little something hed kept to himself, for her sake.

Halting behind the Weather map, Dathne lifted her gaze to him. Her face was disquietingly pale. You feel it? After so long, you still feel it?

He nodded. Aye.

For countless nights after his blood-filled confrontation with Morg hed gone to bed terrified hed conjure in his sleep, in his nightmares, those fell battle-beasts of Doranen warfare hed learned from Barl. The wereslags and the horselirs and the gruesomes, monstrosities of myth and murder. Had been terrified hed wake in his bed to find Dathne clawed to bloody shreds beside him. In the end, exhausted and desperate, hed turned to Pother Nix. The Doranen physick had drugged him and muttered over him, wrapped his tired mind in spells and soothings. Taught him how to seal away the dreadful words he knew, that meant he could kill with a thought. And hed found in that teaching a rough measure of peace.

But the words were still there, still buried inside him, just like the Weather Magic. Not even Nix could take them away. Barls magic had branded him, altered him, and there was no going back. There was only going forward, understanding what hed become.

Dathnes face was crumpled into grief. Asher

Its all right. Dont fret on me. We got this to fret on now.

With another deep breath, she banished pain. Stared at the map. So if the Weather Magic hasnt died, what does that mean for Lur?

Joining her, he slid his arm around her narrow shoulders. As she leaned against him he felt the chill of foreboding ease, just a little. I dont know, he said, resting his cheek against her jasmine-scented hair. All I can be sure on is somehow, what we been feeling is tangled up with this bloody Weather map.

Asher Her fingers drummed against his chest. How long have you been feeling unsettled?

Ha, he said, tightening his arm. You tell me.

Four days. You?

Nine. Close enough.

Im sorry I didnt say anything. Her fingers tightened on his jacket and shook him. You shouldve said something.

He kissed her. Aye, well. Since were both wrong, there be no blame. What is it youve been feeling, ezackly?

A change in the air, she said, her voice low. A change beneath my feet. A sour note on the edge of hearing. Only a whisper, until today. She shivered. It shouted today.

Aye, it bloody well did. You aint had a vision? Nowts come to you in your dreams?

Not for years. Not since before the Wall fell. Id have told you if it had.

You didnt tell me this.

I thought you said there was no blame!

He kissed her again. Sorry.

I didnt want it to be true, she said, her voice shaking. Weve been so happy, my love. We weathered the storm of the Walls falling, the revelation of our true magical natures. Weve forged a new Lur from the ashes of the old and what troubles weve had weve dealt with, swiftly. Olken and Doranen have managed to keep the peace, most of the time. I cant bear to think of our new lives tumbling around our ears.

Neither could he. But worse than that, he couldnt bear to see her distressed. Pulling her closer, he held on tight. Needing the comfort of her warmth in his arms.

Who said theyre tumblin, eh? We dont know that, Dath. Not for sure. But even if they are, fratchin ourselves wont help. Whatever trouble this is come knockin on our door, well survive it. After what weve lived through, Dath? You and me, we can survive anythin.

He felt her shudder. Then she stepped out of his embrace and started circling the Weather map again, revulsion and yearning clouding her face.

So this things not dead after all. She chewed her lip, thinking hard. But what does that mean?

Well He started prowling the map with her. We had ourselves six hundred years of Barls Weather Magic, Dathne, soakin into Lurs bones. And this map were a big part of that.

And if its not dead, like we thought, then She gasped, her eyes opening wide. Asher

He nodded, feeling sick. Knowing they were thinking the same awful thought. I reckon some of that magic was still workin even though the Wall came down. Keepin this map just a little bit alive.

Leftover Weather Magic, she murmured. That would explain the ten years since Morg. No floods. No drought. No famine. Lurs not been much different from when we had a WeatherWorker. Ill admit it, Ive been surprised.

Hed been surprised toobut he was more surprised now, to hear her say so. He stopped his prowling. You never said that. When folk asked, you said there were no reason to think the weather would turn topsy-turvy.

So did you, she retorted, halting opposite him, and we both know why. Because keeping folk calm was our most important task.

Aye, he said, troubled. But I believed it, Dathne. I thought you did too.

Uncomfortable, she hugged her ribs again. When the Wall came down I feared those storms would never end. And then they did. And I thoughtI hopedit meant that nothing had changed after all. That nothing would change. That Lurs trials and suffering were brief, and over. I was a fool. I shouldve known better.

Why? he demanded. This aint your fault, Dathne. How were you sposed to know? How was any of us sposed to know? It aint like this has happened before.

She managed a small, unhappy smile. I cant help it. Im Jervales Heir. The kingdoms always been mine to protect.

And mine. But he didnt say that aloud. Didnt even like thinking it. Nobody asked me if I wanted the bloody thing.

Dathne was once more frowning at the Weather map. So if the earth is stirring nowif we can feel somethings wrong She looked up, a horrified understanding clouding her eyes. Jervale save us all.

He didnt want to believe it either. The thought made his skin crawl. ButDont reckon theres another explanation, Dath. The Weather Magics runnin dry at last, and Lurs feelin it. He swallowed. Were feelin it. And I reckon what were feelin might just be the start.

Her face was stark with anger and fear. So the cataclysm we dreaded ten years ago is come upon us now?

Could be. He shoved his hands in his pockets. And if it is

She inhaled, sharply. Asher. You cant.

I might not have a choice, Dath.

Theres always a choice! she snapped. No more Weather Magic, you told me. How can you think to undo that decision?

How can I not think it? Theres a bloody kingdom at stake!

But Asher, you lied to both Councils. To everyone in Lur. You said killing Morg burned the Weather Magic out of your blood. If you tell them you lied then trust will be broken. And once its broken

Theres worse things than trust as could get broken here, Dath, he said. I lied so Lur could start over. Leave the past in the past. But the pasts just gone and sunk its teeth in our arse, aint it?

Asher, if you bring back WeatherWorking you could die. It could kill you!

I never said I wanted to bring it back! he protested. Believe me, Dath, its the last bloody thing I want. I never took a breath without it hurt me, all the time I was doin Gars job for him. Every day it was like walkin on knives. Breathin glass. Breathin fire. Its behind me, and good riddance. I dont want them poxy days back again. But

What? she said. But what?

His belly was churning. They were fighting. They never fought. Not like this. Not over poxy magic. You know what, Dath. If weve spent the last ten years livin on Barls leftovers if the wrongness you and I are feelin is just a taste of things to come what do we do about it? What do I do? If Im the only man standin between us and ruination? What do I do?

Who says youre the only man? Lurs a land of magicians now, Asher. Throw a stone in any direction and youll hit three on the head.

She was trying to protect him. Thered been a time, once, when shed tossed him headfirst into danger but that was before. She might look the same, but she was a different Dathne now.

Question is, I reckon, am I a different Asher?

Aye, mayhap, but theyd be the wrong kind of magicians, Dath, he said, knowing the answer. Feeling the weariness rise in him like a bloodstained tide. There aint a man or woman in Lur to do the Weather-Working aside from me. Im the only one livin with that magic inside. And there aint a way of passin it on. Not any more. You know that. You bloody know it.

Pointed chin arrogantly tilted, eyes glittering, she glared at him across Barls troublesome map. Then forget about the Weather Magic. Well find another way to fix things, if it turns out theyre broke. But you cant go back to those days of blood and pain, Asher. I wont have it. Youre a father. Your children need you. I need you.

Oh, Dath Warmed anew by her fierce love, chilled by his fears, he shook his head. It aint never been about what we want. What Lur wants did always come first. Youre the one said I was born to save it.

And you did save it, she said. Tears trembled on her lashes. Thats done.

What if it aint done? Eh? What if Lur needs itself savin again?

The tears spilled. Then somebody else can bloody save it! Theres no prophecy I know that says you have to save it twice!

He went to her. Folded her within the shelter of his arms. Not a prophecy, no. More powerful than that, I reckon. You said it, Dath. Im a da. You think theres nowt I wont do to keep Rafe and Deenie safe from harm?

I know theres not, she whispered. But I wont have you risk yourselfrisk all that weve worked foron nothing more certain than feelings. Dyou hear me? I wont. This is too important. This is our lives.

Aye, but she were a stubborn, slumskumbledy wench. She knew it werent so simple. She knew this were about the lives of every man, woman and child in Lur. Again. That they depended on him, again, when all hed wanted was peace.

Dath, Dath He was aching with regret. Aint no use hiding under the blankets on this one. The troubles real, we both know it, and chances are we aint the only ones to feel it. Theres powerful sensitive Olken in Lur. Folk who be woken to ezackly who and what they are. And if they start stirrin round about the place and we aint ready to settle their fears? Thatll mean strife, the kind that spreads itself fast.

She nodded reluctantly, shivering. I know. But you cant risk yourself on guesses and mayhaps. We need to know for certain whats happening.

Aye, but

The Circle can help us, she said, pulling free. Whats left of it. Ill reach out to the best of themFernel Pintte, and Jinny of Hooten Creek. One or two others. Ill ask them to the City. Well see what they know. And then well decide whats to be done. Agreed?

He sighed. Aye. Agreed.

Her pointed finger stabbed him hard in the chest. And that means no Weather Magic in the meantime, Asher. No meddling until were sure theres nowhere else to turn. Promise me that. Promise.

I promise, he said, because what else could he say? He didnt want to fight with her. He didnt want to make her cry.

She kissed him. Good. Now lets get out of here. I never liked this Chamber. It makes me want to throw up.

CHAPTER THREE

In worried silence they walked hand-in-hand back from the Weather Chamber, by privy pathways that meant theyd meet no folk wandering the public parts of the palace grounds. Coming in sight of home at last, Asher felt Daths fingers tighten painfully around his. Pother Kerril was standing lonesome on the Towers distant steps, neat and tidy in her green physicks smock. Waiting for them, it looked like.

What now? Dath said, and let go of him. Please, not Rafel. Not again. She hurried ahead.

Asher wanted to hurry with her, but he made himself walk slowly, casually. Not because he didnt care, but because he knew he cared so much. And because he wasnt comfortable letting all and sundry see how deep he loved his son. That were private. That were his heart, for him to know and no-one else, save Dath. But if Rafe had tumbled into fresh trouble, hurt hisself so soon after his last heedless scrape

Hell be the death of me, that boy. Im goin grey afore my time.

As he reached calling distance from the Tower steps, Dath turned from Kerril. Its all right. Its not Rafel.

Praise Barl. He didnt need to ask if it was Deenie. His daughter werent rambunctious like her big brother. Deenie was his little brown mouse, who startled at a loud sound and eyed boisterous Rafel askance.

But in the wake of relief he felt a pinching of worry. Beneath Daths smile was something heartstruck, and dreadful.

What? he said, climbing the wide stone steps to join her and the pother. Whats amiss, Dathne?

Instead of answering, Dath looked to Kerril. A tall Doranen woman with a calm face and kind eyes, shed taken over from Nix on his retirement to the coast. Royal physician in everything but name, she was, with a keen and constant interest in the health of her patients.

She nodded, a brisk greeting from one authority to another. Asher. Im sorry its Darran.

He felt his heart thud hard, just the once. Darran. Silly ole fart. Thorn in his side. Enemy then ally. Family, of sorts. Hes dead? he asked, and heard the roughness in his voice.

No, he lives, said Kerril. He wished her eyes held less sorrow. But hes sinking. A palsy.

Sinkin how fast?

I wish I could tell you, Asher. I wish I had better news.

And if wishes were fishes then no-one would starve.

So do I, he said. Howd this happen, any road? Aint he just had you breathin down his neck for an ague in his chest? You standin there tellin me you never noticed he had a palsy brewin?

He knew he sounded angry, as though this was all Kerrils fault. As though somehow, by coming to tell him, shed made it happen in the first place. He knew he wasnt being fair. But he couldnt help himself. This after the cherry orchard? And the Weather Chamber? It was too much.

Dathne clicked her tongue. Asher, thats hardly

No, its a reasonable question, Dathne, said Kerril, her grave expression unchanged. If hed hurt her, or angered her, hed never know. She wasnt like Nix, whod blustered and fussed. I physick your family, you need to know I know my task. Hands clasped before her, she frowned before answering. Palsy often strikes without warning, Asher. A man can be fiddle fit one day and drop dead in his doorway the next. Theres no rhyme nor reason, alas. It kills the young and the old, men and women both. I doubt Darrans ague had a thing to do with it. He was mostly over that, just a little cough remained.

And now hes dyin. Grief surged, unexpected, stealing his breath. In the djelba trees surrounding the Tower courtyard, nightbirds flapped their wings. Days end approached and they were waking from sleep.

Asher Dathne rested her hand on his forearm. Kerril says Rafel was with Darran when the palsy struck.

He stared. What? Where is he?

Indoors, said Kerril. He took no harm. He called for help then stayed with Darran comforting him. He was a brave boy, Im told.

Of course he was. He was Rafel. Exasperated, he turned to Dathne. And were out here flappin our lips instead of seein to our son cause

Because he doesnt need us smothering him, she snapped. Because a space of time and silence are as healing as soft words.

He loved her so much that he forgot, sometimes, how hard she could be. Her years as Jervales Heir had marked her. She were more comfortable than she used to be, but the core of her remained unchanged, stronger than iron.

He can have both, Dath, he said. Aint no need for him to choose.

He looked past her and Pother Kerril, through the Towers open double doors and into its circular marble-floored foyerand saw his son on the spiral staircase. Rafes knees were pulled close to his chest, dark hair flopping over his lowered face, small hands clutching his shinbones tight.

Can I see the ole man? he asked Kerril, his eyes not moving from that slight, still body on the snail-shell stairs.

Hes asking for you, said Kerril. Stay as long as you like. Ive eased him as much as I can, and left an elixir. If the shaking takes him again, a spoonful should help.

With an effort, he wrenched his gaze from Rafel. Will he see sunrise?

As I said, these things cant be predicted, Kerril replied gently. Then she sighed. But theres a good chance he wont.

Go, said Dathne. Her dark eyes were full of quiet misery. An iron core, she had, aye but a lot more besides. If business arises Ill see to it. Dont fret on that.

He nodded, suddenly unable to trust his voice.

If youve need of me, send to my infirmary, Kerril added. I have possets and so forth to see to. Ill be working late into the night.

My thanks, Kerril, he said. Shamed that hed lashed out at her, looked to hurt when all shed done was help. I know better than that. Im me, I aint my brother. Zeth hurts folk heedless. Im better than Zeth. There be no pother in Lur couldve cared more for Darran, I reckon. Hes old and wore out, thats the sad fact of it. And Im thinkin hes walked a long road. Longer than most.

Indeed, she replied. Though thats small enough comfort.

It were no comfort at all. Barl save him, he was sick to death of death. With a nod for Kerril, and a small smile for Dathne that was all pain and no pleasure, he left the women on the Towers front steps and trudged inside.

Hearing his footsteps, Rafel looked up. With the evening drawing in, the foyer had been lit with glimfire. Sconces glowed against the circular wall, throwing shadows. Their warm light found the tears in Rafels eyes, that the boy was too proud to let fall. His face was grimy, his short black hair streaked with dust. Rafe charged through life as though it was a race, heedless of skinned knees and bruises, never frettin if he fell. Why would he? Hed find his feet all right. He always did.

Da, the boy said. His bottom lip quivered. The ole fools dyin, I reckon.

Aye, he said, and sat himself on the stair beside his son. Reckon he is. But dont call him that, eh? Hes got a name, Rafe, and enough years in his dish you can respect him by usin it.

Rafe twitched one skinny shoulder. You call him an ole fool. You call him worse, Ive heard you.

Aye, but thats me, he said, and draped an arm round his son. What I call him be our business, Rafe. Mine and Darrans. You know the ole man and me got history. Youre a spratling yet. You aint earned the right.

I never will, if hes dying, said Rafe, and his voice broke in a small sob. Hes my friend, Da. I dont want him to die.

I know you dont, Rafe, he whispered, and pulled his son close. Nobody wants their friends to die. Friends is what makes the world worth livin in, even when its falling in flames around your ears. But you got to remember, Rafe, men dont live forever. No-one lives forever.

He felt Rafes thin, wiry body tremble. Like Dancer?

Aye, he said gently. Just like Dancer. He had a good long life and Darran has too. There aint nowt to be sad on for that. But dont you go lettin your ma hear you measurin the ole fart to a pony. Shell clip you round the earhole for that.

And shell clip you for calling Darran an ole fart, said Rafe, swiftly smiling. He looked like his mother then, quicksilver mischief, their dark eyes the same.

Aye, mayhap she will, he said. So that be our secret, eh?

Rafe heaved a deep sigh. Da

Aye, Rafe?

Cantcant you live forever?

The plaintive question plunged through him like a harpoon meant for a shark. Breached his heart and stole his breath. Bleeding tears on the inside, for hed not ever let his son see a weeping father, who should be strong, he shook his head.

No, Rafe. But theres nowt to fret on, I promise. I aint goin nowhere for years and years and years.

Morg lived forever, Rafe said, his voice still broken and soft. Nearly. He wouldve, cept you killed him. Cant you He sniffed. You know.

Stricken, Asher stared through the open foyer doors. Dathne and Pother Kerril still stood on the Tower steps, gossiping like women did, praise Barl. For if Dath were here, and caught Rafel in such a question

He tightened his arm hard around his sons slight frame. No, Rafe. No. Fear had him by the throat, squeezing it almost closed. We talked on this before, remember? That kind of magic is wrong. And it dont exist any road. Not any more.

Maybe. But Da, youre a great mage, said Rafe. He was stubborn, so stubborn, he never knew when to leave well enough alone. You could find it. You could never die.

Swamped, Asher hauled his son closer still, wrapped both arms around him and hung on for grim life. I told you, sprat, I aint dyin, he said, muffled against Rafels dusty, disordered hair. I know youre fratched cause of Darran, but thats him. That aint me. Now, you put that kind of magic out of your head, you hear? It aint never to be spoke of again. Not to me, not to your mother, not to a living soul. Understand?

Rafel nodded. Yes, Da.

Leaning back, Asher stared into his sons vivid face. You just sayin that, Rafel? Or are you hearin me? Do you promise? Is this your proper word, given man to man, and no breakin of it for nowt?

The tears Rafe had held back were sprung free now, and sluicing his cheeks. Promise, he said, choking. My word, Da. Man to man.

All right then, he said, still terrified because Nix, who knew such things, had told him and Dath seven years ago that Rafel, their precious son, had magic in him like his father. No tame Olken mage, this boy, but a child of both worlds who could scorch as well as soothe. All right. So thats your word sworn to me, and well not speak on this again.

No, Da, Rafel whispered. Da, I was just asking. I didnt mean to do wrong.

And there was another wave crashing over him, stealing his breath again. I know. I know. Youre a good sprat. I know.

He felt Rafels arms curl round his neck. Felt his sons wet, grimy cheek press against him. His own da had been a good man, a kind man, a man to love with all his heart. But fishing were a hard life; he never was one for hugs and kisses. Love was food on the table, a bed to sleep in, and no leaky roof.

Ma had hugged him, but Ma died young. Hed had to wait until Dathne to feel that loved again. And as hed stood by her bedside ten years ago, as hed watched her hold their squalling newborn son, indignant and outraged, still sticky with birthing blood, hed promised himself: He wont doubt me. He wont wonder. Hell have hugs and kisses every day.

I got to go, Rafe, he murmured, holding on tight. I got to see that ole fart up there, that ole man whats dyin.

Can I come too? said Rafel. Darran and me, we never finished our game. We couldnt find a good book to buy so we were playing hop-poddle and I was winning, for real.

Mayhap you can see him later, he said. For now theres words as need sayin between him and me and no-one else.

Sniffing, Rafe wriggled free. What if there aint a later, Da? he said, and dragged a grubby sleeve across his woeful face. He might die of a sudden. Gooses ma went like that.

If I reckon hes goin, Ill say somethin for you, he promised. What should I say?

Standing on a lower step, head down so his eyes and his slow tears were hidden, Rafel shrugged. Then he looked up. Tell the ole fool I love him, Da. Tell him thank you for his stories.

He tousled his sons hair, then pushed to his feet. I will. Now go find your ma, Rafe. Id say shes worrited for you.

But instead of leaving, Rafel stared up at him, so solemn. Im sorry, Da. It aint fair, how your friends die.

Dont you fret on me, Rafe, he said at last, when he could trust himself, so close to breaking. I got you and your mother. I got your sister. Youre my best friends, you are. I be fine.

Rafels smile broke through the grief and tears. It was his own mothers sunlight smile, found its way to his small sons face. Dont you fret on me neither, Da. I aint leavin you. I aint goin no place.

He watched Rafel bound down the foyer stairs, leap lightly across the marble floor and run to Dathne, alone now on the Towers sandstone steps. He watched them embrace, and for a hurting heartbeat saw Dana and Gar, whod loved one another the way Dath and Rafel loved.

And then he turned and trudged his way up the Towers spiral staircase, sorrow a dreadful weight bowing his spine.

* * *

Pother Kerril had left glimfire burning in Darrans chamber, and scented tapers so the air smelt of spring. The curtains were drawn against the window, dark blue velvet echoing a summer night sky. Darran had slept in this small space for more than ten years. It was the room he took when JarraltMorgbanished him to exile here with Gar. When that business was done with, and Lur had been saved, hed been offered the whole floor of the Tower where Gar used to live, the kings privy chamber and his study and his library too.

Shocked, offended, Darran had refused. That floor was Rafels now. And Darran lived here, a chamber less than one-quarter of a single floor, so simple and spare. No fancy tapestries and folderol for Darran, who dressed in black every day of his life. Hed sleep in black nightshirts, if that were something that got done.

But it werent, so there he was beneath his blankets, white nightshirt buttoned to his scrawny throat. His lank hair on the pillow was pure silver, the echoing colour of old Cygnets mane and tail. His hands, their skin gauze-thin and wrinkled, blotched with spots, fingers gnarled, rested on his toast-rack chest; hed never got fat, not by an ounce. He still looked like a stork. He still scolded and sighed. His breathing barely stirred the air as his palsied face spasmed and ticced.

Asher eased the door closed and crossed to the bed. A plain chair stood beside it. Sitting, he reached for Darrans thin hand. It was icy cold, as though winters grip on Lur hadnt loosened and hed been outside with no gloves.

Hey there, ole man, he murmured. His eyes burned. His throat felt tight. Lazin about like there aint no work to do. What kind of example is that to set, eh?

Looking more closely, he saw that glimfire shadows hid the worst of Darrans twisted left cheek, his drooped eyelid, his sagging mouth. Spittle dribbled down his grey-stubbled chin. Letting go of Darrans hand, he took the cloth from its bowl of water on the beds posset-crowded nightstand, wrung it to dampness and wiped the old man clean. Then he put the cloth back and took possession of Darrans hand again, hoping his own warm blood would warm this dying mans frail flesh.

Asher, said Darran, his eyes still closed, his voice slurred, and so soft. As though speaking were as hard a task as calling down the rain. Have some respect.

He tightened his fingers, just a little. Oh, aye. Like youve earned it, eh, you ole crow?

Reprobate, said Darran. His eyelids lifted, painfully. Beneath them his clouded eyes swallowed the light. Rapscallion. Ruffian.

Aye, he said, scowling. Reckon I be all those things, do you?

Darrans fingers tightened, no stronger than a babys. All those and more. He frowned. Whats the matter?

Nigh on twelve years ago now, hed met this man. In nigh on twelve years theyd danced a dance or two. Hated each other. Hurt each other. Wept in silence side by side.

Whats the matter? he echoed. What dyou reckon, you ole fool?

Yes, Im dying, said Darran, acerbic, not even frailty able to sweeten his tart tongue. But Im not such an ole fool I think youre grief-struck because of it. Theres something else, dont deny it. Ive lived my whole life watching great men of power. I know when aughts amiss, and setting them on edge.

Great men of power. His palsys addled him. Youre wrong, he said quietly. I aint pleased to see you go.

Asher Asher Darran managed a lopsided smile. Youd keep me here, in this faded, failing body? Thats cruel even for you.

He looked away until he was certain he could speak without letting loose words hed come to regret. You want to die? Is that it?

I want you to tell me whats wrong, said Darran, still slow, still softbut with as much iron in him as Dathne. Dying hadnt rusted him, that much was clear. Perhaps I can help you. Id like to think I can. One last service for the kingdom. I think you owe me that much.

There was no repaying what he owed this persnickety Olken. No undoing of past mistakes, no healing old wounds.

But how can I tell him what me and Dath think? His lights goin out. He deserves an easy death, not doubt and fear and frettin over what he cant help.

Asher Darran closed his eyes, just for a moment, then dragged them open again. If I make it my last wish? If I beg you? Shall I beg?

Why dyou want to know? he said roughly. There aint nowt you can do.

I can listen, said Darran. And whatever you tell me, I can take it to my grave. Ill do that best of all.

Sighing, he let his chin drop to his chest. The ole man werent entirely wrong and he could say things to Darran he couldnt say to anyone else. Not even Dathne. Especially not Dathne. She was brave, she was so brave, but hed kill her, saying this. Hed given her a promise, knowing that he lied.

Asher, said Darran, his fingers tightening a little more. If this is about the kingdoms safety you cant spare me. You cant spare yourself. Gar died for Lur. Will you sit there and not speak?

The ole bastard, skewering him like this. Twisty, sneaky, bringin up Gar.

Bitterly he stared at Darran. Since when did I spare mself, you manky ole man?

Never, Darran whispered. So dont start now.

Sink me. Sink me. I ought to walk away. I ought to keep my mouth shut. If I dont say it then it aint true.

Youre not a coward, said Darran, relentless. Barl knows youve more faults than a cur dog has fleas, Asher, but He broke off, his breath catching in a cough, that ague in his chest not done with him yet. A problem denied is a problem unresolved. Bornes father taught me that. A lesson well learned.

He stared at his fingers. If he closed his eyes he might think he could still feel that sizzle of power in them, from touching Barls map. If he closed his eyes hed feel the flogging might of her magic

Asher, said Darran, his voice tight with pain. Is Lur in danger? Is that your dread?

On a gasping breath, he nodded. Aye. Feels like it. And if it is could be Ill have to do somethin. Somethin I dont want to do, as might cause as much trouble as itll fix.

Ah, said Darran, a long slow sigh of regret. WeatherWorking you mean?

Startled, Asher stared at him. I never said that. Why dyou think that? Aint no such thing as WeatherWorkin no more, Darran.

So feeble, the ole man was now. His eyes sunken, his colour bad, the palsy dancing in his cheek. A fresh thin thread of spittle crept down his chin. Weakly he swiped at it, then weakly snapped his fingers for the damp cloth. Wouldnt take help in cleaning himself, this time.

No such thing? he said, handing the cloth back. His clouded eyes couldnt mask his temper, or the disgust he felt at his bodys slow decay. Of course there is, Asher. You never lost that power. You just lied and said you did. For the greater good, of course. Because Lur needed to hear it. I always knew better. Blinking slowly, he pressed withered fingertips to the flickering muscle beneath his cheeks lace-thin skin. But what makes you think now our kingdom might need to hear otherwise? Is it the uncertainty youre feeling in the sleeping earth?

What? he said, choking. Howd you know that? You aintyou said you felt nowt of Olken magic in your blood. Were that a lie, Darran? You been lyin to me?

And if I was? Darran retorted, an echo of his younger, vigorous days sounding in his voice. About myself? About something so personal and private? Whether or not I was born gifted, is that any business of yours? I dont think so. I think He broke off, coughing again, sunk too low for indignation.

Here, here, you ole crow, he said, and helped Darran sip from a glass of water. Best you stop flappin your lips now, I reckon. Best I leave you be, to rest.

Darran only swallowed twice, with awful difficulty, tiny mouthfuls, then turned his face away from the glass. Asher eased him back to his pillows, returned the glass to the nightstand and started to rise. But Darrans hand stopped him, with a strength born of desperation.

I feel nothing, he said harshly, every indrawn breath a fight. It was Rafel. Rafel told me. He said the earth feels wrong.

Rafel? Asher sat again, thudding hard onto the chair. My son told you that? You, and not me?

Hes a boy, said Darran, smiling. Boys have their secrets, Asher. The smile faded. And youre strict with him, you know. Over magic.

If I am, I got to be! he said, stung. You know what Nix said of him, Darran. You know what it might mean.

I know youve never trusted your own gift, said Darran gently. You never wanted it. You resent it. You blame magic for every loss.

Why shouldnt I? Dont you? Dont you blame magic for who it killed?

It wasnt the magic that killed him, Asher, said Darran sadly.

Pricked to his feet, Asher stamped to the window and drew the heavy curtain aside. This side of the Tower looked out over the home field beside the stables; in the fast-falling dusk he caught the pearly gleam of Cygnets thick winter coat as the doddery horse, without a halter, followed Jed to the gate. Good ole Jed, as kindly as ever, grown more childish with the passing seasons. Not even Nix or Kerril could help that. The blow to his head all those years ago had damaged him in ways that could never be undone. Kerril said thered come a time when Jed wouldnt be safe around the horses. Kerril said there were a good chance his friend wouldnt make old bones.

Death, greedy and hovering, in here, out there, no escape. No reprieve. Rafel, keeping secrets. And now this old wound, reopened.

Gar.

I know what killed him, Darran, he said harshly, keeping his back turned. That were me. I killed him. Think I need you to tell me who I killed? I dont. Dont need you tellin me you hate me for it, neither.

Hate you? said Darran. I dont hate you. If theres any hating, Asher, youre doing it. Youre the one who wont forgive.

He turned. What are you witterin about, you stupid ole fool? I dont hate him! I never hated him. He were my friend.

I know, said Darran. His clouded eyes were full of tears. You loved him like a brother. But you did hate him a little bit too, Asher. Dont try to deny it. Im dying, but I remember. We both do.

Aye, he remembered. He wished he didnt. Hed thought hed found peace in the months after Gars death. While Rafel grew in Dathnes belly he thought hed found a way to live with what happened. Turned out he was wrong. Turned out some wounds were just too deep to heal proper. And now, feeling the changes beneath Lurs green and growing skin, all he could think was it had all been for nowt.

Why are we talkin on this? he said. It dont matter now. Gars gone. Youll be gone soon. What are you doin, Darran? Makin me pay one last time, while ystill can?

Panting, Darran straightened against his pillows. I never blamed you, Asher, he said with dreadful effort, the chambers sweet air thick and rasping in his throat. I know it wasnt your fault. Gar went his own way. He never told me what he planned but I knew there was something. Hadnt I been watching him from the moment he was born? I knew him, Asher, better even than his own flesh-and-blood. I knew he was keeping secrets. I could see it in his eyes.

Ten years since that moment in Dorana Citys Market Square, before the steps of the great Barls Chapel, and the pain was still so raw. The words of UnMaking blasting through him. Gar falling dead as stone at his feet. Ten years and so much silence. He and Darran had wept over Gars coffin and never talked of it after. Not even once. Not even nearly.

You ole bastard. Then why didnt you say? His hands were fists, and they wanted to pound. Why did you let him throw his life away like that? The magic was mine, not his. The prophecy was for me.

Strength spent, Darran slumped. You know why, he said, almost too faint for hearing. His palsied cheek writhed. Because hed not have forgiven me. Because he was my king. Because you might have loved him, Asher, but you were still blind. I wasnt. I could see it. And I was sworn to serve him. Not my will, but his.

Rage was a storm, battering him near to sightless. Blind? What are you talkin about? What did you see I didnt?

That not dying for Lur would have killed him, whispered Darran. That what he did to you, breaking his oath to you, handing you over to Jarraltto Morgwhat was done to you by that monster was killing him. Darran coughed again, his lungs heaving for air. He never wept for himself, Asher, but he wept for you.

Dont you tell me that, he said, turning aside. Why tell me that? Its over, its in the past. Why drag it up now?

Over? said Darran. His fingers plucked at the blankets. It will never be over. Not while you remember him. Not if Lur is in peril. He left his kingdom in your hands, Asher, to keep safe. But if you turn from your gift how is it safe? How is that loving him?

I never said I wouldnt keep Lur safe. But that dont have to mean WeatherWork. Aint no surety in that!

Darrans laugh was breathless, and wry. Aint no surety for Lur if you wont do whats needful.

How would you know whats needful, you silly ole crow? he said, nearly choking on outrage. How would you know anythin, with nowt a drop of magic in you? Fussin and bossin and tellin me what to do! Tellin me what to think! What to feel! All thats over now, dyou hear me? We aint goin back to them magic days, Darran. We aint goin back to hoity-toity Doranen and us Olken bendin our knees. This aint the old Lur, that old Lurs dead like Gar. And I aint about to kiss its corpse awake, I aint about to

Asher! What are you doing? Have you taken total leave of your senses?

Dathne, shocked and staring in the open doorway.

Somehow he swallowed his unspoken, angry words. Dathne, you

Oh, be quiet, be quiet, she said, stepping inside and pushing the door shut behind her. Darranhere, take some posset

Numb, he stood with his back to the wall and watched as Dathne tipped spoonfuls of Kerrils elixir into the ole fools mouth, as gentle and as loving as though he were one of her babes, or her da. She eased the blankets around the ole fool and chafed his cold hands, smoothed the tarnished hair from his mottled forehead and smiled.

Dont be angry with Asher, Darran whispered. You know how it is with us. I fratch him, Dathne. Theres no harm done.

You let me judge that, said Dathne, her voice kind, her flicking glance furious. And rest. Be easy. Guard your strength, Darran. We dont want you to go.

There were tears in her voice. More tears in Darrans eyes, tipping onto his twitching cheek. I know, he said, trying to smile even as the spittle ran down his chin. But Im going. His gaze shifted. You should talk to your son Asher. You need to know his secret.

No, you tell it me, he said, scowling. Darran

Darrans eyes closed. Remember your friend, Asher. Remember Gar. Dont waste his sacrifice. He died for you.

The room blurred, and Darran with it. Dathne dropped onto the bed beside the old man.

I cant stay here, he muttered. I aint stayin here. I need air.

Asher! said Dathne, turning. Asher, wait, where are you

Haunted, hunted, he left her and the ole crow behind.

CHAPTER FOUR

Nonplussed, Dathne stared after her impossible husband. Beside her, in his bed, Darran wheezed and dribbled. Barls tits. The dear old man deserved a death with dignity after his lifetime of unselfish service to the crown, and Lurs people. Without Darran thered be no Lur. At least, not a land anyone living now would recognise. Instead it would be burned and blasted, reduced to blight and stinking evil miasmas, just like the lands beyond Barls Mountains. Lands theyd visited once and would never tempt again.

We owe him so much. And now hes dying and Ashers fighting with him? I could smack him, Matt, I could smack him so hard.

An old habit, that was, talking to Matt. Sometimes she thought she ought to break herself of it. Talking to a dead man? Not a good idea, surely. But she missed him, as much now as ever she had in the days after his death when she could not understand his absence, could not turn to him for counsel or comfort, and felt herself entirely alone without him. Her friend. Her brother. Her conscience.

What would you say, Matt, if you were here? I wish you were here. I wishI wish

Dathne, said Darran, the feeble fingers holding hers tightening a hairsbreadth. Dont fret. And dont weep. Not for me.

That was when she realised her cheeks were wet, her throat hot and tight. She lifted Darrans hand and pressed it to her lips.

Im sorry, she whispered. Hell come back. He will.

Mayhap, said Darran, who never used that country word. You must have a care for your ruffian, my dear.

She frowned at him. I do. You know I do. Darran, why were you and Asher fighting? Whats this about a secret?

Darrans eyes drifted closed. The palsy in his cheek had worsened, the wasted flesh beneath his skin leaping and twitching. Ask Rafel.

Why? she said, her heart thudding with dread. Darran, what do you know? Darran?

He didnt answer. Sleep had claimed him, the torpor of a failing spirit. She let go of his hand and roamed his small chamber, suddenly sickened by the burning tapers sweet smell. It was too much. Too much. Finding Asher in the Weather Chamber. The fear in his eyes. Hard on its heels, this awful news of Darran. And now Rafel? Her Rafel?

What secrets can a child have, that matter enough to hasten an old mans slow dying? To disquiet his last hours with such discord?

Oh, she wanted Asher. But she couldnt leave poor Darran to go chasing after him. Besides, who could find sense in him when he was in a tearing temper? Older he might be, but not so noticeably wiser. Still a hot-head, still quick to take offence. Always digging in his heels.

No. No, Im not fair. Hes afraid. The things he feels, that I feel, whose meaning we fathom all too well. They frighten him. They frighten me. We thought peace was well-earned and paid for. We thought life was good and would not change.

But wasnt that precisely what the people of Lur had thought before the coming of the Final Days? Only she, Jervales Heir, had known truth for a lie. And the Circle, whod relied on her to guide them blindfolded in the dark.

The thought of reconvening the Circle made her feel ill. Not for seeing her friends again, but for what such a calling meant. More strife for Lur, more suffering for its people.

Oh Jervale, if you can hear me, let Asher and I be wrong. Let this be nowt but a phantasm, a boggle of the mind.

But beneath her feet, she felt Lur shift and groan

Mama, said a small voice, and she spun round to hear it.

Rafel! What are you doing? I told you Id come back to you by and by.

Escaped from the familys privy apartments, where he and Deenie were eating their early supper, Rafel stood clean and miserable in the doorway. And Deenie stood with him, tempted sometimeslike nowto follow her brother into mischief, when he wasnt chasing her away for being a tiresome girl.

I wanted to see Darran, he muttered, his lower lip pouting. Oh, he did not care to be scolded. So like his father, proud and spirited. Hands clenching to fists at the least provocation. Da said I could.

Your father said youd be called if Darran was in the mood for visitors, she retorted. Truths not an ivy-plant, Rafel, to be grown any shape that suits you. And you, Deenie, she added, frowning at her daughter. Youve run off from Cluny too? For shame.

Deenie was small for her eight years, slender like a poplar sapling, a child of thistledown and whispers. Eyes as round as pansies in her narrow, secret face. Where scolding made her brother cross, she wilted under the mildest scrutiny.

Sorry, Mama, she said, her voice hiccupping with dismay. I only wanted to say goodbye, like Rafel.

Dathne felt her heart break. No, no, shes too young. What do you mean, goodbye? What a nonsense that is.

Deenie glanced up at her brother, fingers twisting in her bright blue cotton smock. Rafe said

Tattle-tale! Rafe spat at her, and shoved his shoulder against hers. Hold your tongue, I told you. Now look what youve done, Mamas fratched!

So Rafe had told Deenie the old man was dying. Anger nipped at heartbreaks heels, that hed so carelessly shatter his small sisters innocence.

Rafels chin was up, his brows knit together in a belligerent scowl. And oh, it was his fathers face he was showing her now, all bark and bite, their tempers two bright mirrors reflecting each other.

No-one said not to tell, he muttered. Da never said I werent to tell. And neither had she said it, never dreamt shed have to. She glanced sideways at the bed, at Darran, and saw that he was roused from drowsing and watching her from beneath half-lifted eyelids. His sunken eyes, age-fuddled and dimmed with his slow dying, still reflected a gentle amusement. Oh, he loved her children. If she hadnt discovered an exasperated affection for him before Rafe was born shed have lost her heart to him after, in his doting on her child. On both her children, who loved him for his kindness and his stories and the way he poked gentle, impolite fun at their father.

Dathne Darrans voice was the threadiest whisper. Youd ease me if you let them stay.

She wanted to deny him, but only because she would shield her children. Yes, Rafe and Deenie had both encountered death, but it had been the small deaths of animals. This death was not small. Darran had grown to be a loving part of their lives. She feared so much the wounds his dying would inflict upon her son and daughter.

Did I mean to let him become so important? Did I not notice how we all grew to lean on him, even Asher? When did I start to love him? When was the first time Asher turned to him as a friend?

She couldnt remember. She only knew it was true, that this ole man, this ole fart, ole scarecrow, ole trout, was part of her family. And that his death would cause her beloved Rafel and Deenie pain. But she couldnt protect them, she knew that. No mother could, though she gave her own life to save their innocence from harm.

Please, Mama, said Rafel, so stubborn. He never once let go of a coveted thing, not even in his cradle. I want to stay.

She looked at her son. Saw with a pang, with grief-sharpened eyes, that he wasnt a little boy any more. Ten years old and growing fast. Sturdy, like his father. A promise of charming good looks contained within the childish framework of his face.

But his eyes are far from childish. He knows things. He feels them. Pretending he doesnt makes no difference to the truth. Weve cursed him, Asher and I. When we made him, we gave him power.

It galled her, to think that Darran knew things about her son that she didnt. That Asher didnt. That she needed to be told by a dying old man that her son had a secret which was causing him hurt.

Please, Mama? said Rafel. Dont make me go. He glanced sideways at Deenie and pulled a little face. Cant we stay?

If Asher were here she was almost certain hed say no. Not to spite Darran, but to protect his children.

And he would be wrong.

Yes, Rafe, she said, feeling her eyes sting. You can stay and say goodbye. Then she shifted and looked down at the old man. But you mustnt be long.

Thank you, Dathne, Darran breathed. Ill not keep them.

She nodded at her children, then stepped back from the bed into pooled shadows, as Rafe and Deenie moved to Darrans side. At the old mans smile Deenie clambered onto the blanketed mattress and took his withered, age-spotted hand in hers. Rafel, scorning such babyish scramblings, echoed his father with thrown-back shoulders and a fearsome scowl and stayed standing.

Rafel, Darran whispered. Deenie. Shall I tell you a story?

Still scowling, Rafe shrugged. Spose. If you want to. I dont care.

But Dathne, watching, knew that he did. He was desperate for a story. He loved Darrans tales. So did Deenie. Asher never looked back, not even for his children. Darrans stories taught them about their father, who loved them beyond all things but kept so much of himself a closed book.

Darran gestured to the chair at his bedside. Make yourself comfortable, then, Rafe, he invited. His rheumy eyes looked feverish now. She could see he was burning the last of his guttering candle for her childrens sake. She should in conscience send them away.

But I cant. I cant. They need this. And so does he, I think. And so do I.

Rafe dropped onto the chair beside Darrans bed. Trying hard to be brave, though his small heart was breaking.

Your father, said Darran, his gaze shifting from Rafe to Deenie and back again, so much love in him she could feel it like a furnace, is a rowdy and a ruffian and the bravest man I ever knew. Braver even than our dear late king, and Gar had courage enough for twenty men.

The bravest man? Braver than Gar? Dathne heard her heartbeat drumming in her ears. Hed never said that before. Hed praised Asher, yes, but never once above his precious prince, the boy hed looked on as a son.

Rafel, I know Ive told you before, said Darran. His voice was raspy, the chambers scented air wheezing in his throat. The story of how your father saved Gars life. But Ive not told your sister. I think I think His gaze drifted to the shadows. Its time for Deenie to hear this one.

Dathne folded her arms against a sudden shiver. Deenie knew her father was counted a hero of Lur. How could she not know it? But theyd kept her sheltered from the details. She was still a little girl. She had the rest of her life to discover Lurs harsh, recent past.

Except there was something important about her hearing such stories of her father from Darran. For one thing, Asher would never tell them. He squirmed and scowled when anyone tried to praise his doings. Not only because hed never relished public acclaim, but because his victory over Morg was tainted by those other deaths. By Gars death especially, which quietly haunted him and robbed him of peace.

But Deenie, like Rafel, was entitled to know his worth. And there was something special about stories that were told not by a mother and a wife, but an outsider. She understood that. She knew what Darrans stories meant to Rafel. Coming from the old man, the tales were somehow moremore true.

And Deenie deserves that truth no less than her brother. She deserves to know her das a great man.

Darran was watching her, his gaze anxious. Eager. He wanted to gift her children with one last story and his time was dwindling. How could she refuse?

When she nodded, his pale, palsied face flushed with pleasure. A tear escaped his drooping left eye to trickle down his twitching cheek. Deenie pulled a kerchief from the pocket of her smock and gently patted his face dry.

Thank you, Deenie, Darran whispered, when he could speak again. Then he smiled. Deenie. Gardenia. Do you know Dathne when I said you should call a girl-child that I was teasing.

She nodded. We knew.

Ah, he said, and didnt speak for a moment. Then he turned again to her children. Very well. A story. This happened when your father was a brash young man. The old king, Borne was unwell. He sent his son the prince Gar to Westwailing in his stead

After walking off the worst of his temper, Asher made his way to the Tower stable yard. The lads were bustling about evening stables, doors rattling, the water pumps handle groaning, filled pails sloshing, glimfire lanterns gilding the air and throwing shadows. Though he were fratched, he smiled at the horses impatience, whickers and snapping teeth, and hooves banging and scraping. The cool air smelled of hot horse porridge and fresh manure. He found Jed in the feed room, painstakingly counting carrots into seven waiting feed buckets. Seeing Asher, his oddly young and unlined face split wide in a smile.

See? he said, pointing proudly. See?

Aye, he replied, and clapped his boyhood friend on the shoulder. I do see. You be a great help, Jed.

Jed nodded, tongue-tip held fast between his teeth. The cruel, dented scar in his forehead caught the glimlight, flatly shining. Great help. Great help.

The lingering embers of Ashers resentment died. Poor Jed. So much lost to him. So much stolen by bad luck. Now he was about to lose Darran, who fussed over him like a hen with one chick. Whod have thought the ole fool had so much love in him, eh?

Not me. I never thought it. Sometimes I reckon I never knew him at all.

After a quick stir of the horse porridge, pungent steam stinging his face, he perched on the edge of the oat-bin, arms folded. Jed. Jed. Are you listenin to me, Jed?

Jed nodded, industriously counting carrots. That blow to his drunken head hadnt stolen all his life. Just most of it.

Jed, I got to tell you somethin. About Darran.

Jeds face lit up. My friend Darran. Ole crow. Ole fart.

Yeah, the ole fart, he said, pain like a vice crushing his chest. Jed come along, you got to listen to me.

Beyond the almost closed feed-room door, the lads whistled and laughed. On their own tonight, with Meister Divit away to Crackby for a family funeral. More death. More despair. People ought to live forever. Jed was counting carrots again, lost in his misty mind.

Jed! he said sharply, and kicked one heel against the oat-bin. Bloody listen, would you?

Jed startled at his sharp voice and the boom of the oat-bin, carrots tumbling from his fingers. Sorry. Sorry.

Abruptly remorseful, Asher dropped to a crouch before his addled friend and took hold of his wrists. Aint no need for sorry, he said gently. You aint done a thing wrong, Jed. I just need you to listen.

Wide-eyed, his untidy dark hair streaky grey, his cheeks and chin stubbled grey and black, Jed nodded. I be listenin.

He couldnt say Darran was dying. Even if Jed understood, the words would only fratch him. Darrans goin away for a bit, Jed. He asked me to say goodbye for him.

Away? Jed said vaguely. Where?

Good question. Who knew if the Barlsmen were right? Who knew if there was a life beyond death? To the countryside, Jed.

Jed frowned. Cant I go? I like the country.

I know you do, he said. Only not this time. Another time, mayhap.

Another time. Aye. Aye. Jed stood. I have to look at Cygnets water, he announced. Thats my job. I look after Cygnet.

The feed-room door banged closed behind him. Asher stayed crouched on the brick floor a moment longer, a hot pain pulsing at his temples. Then he pushed to his feet and started dishing out the evening feeds, scoops of oats and chaffed hay dropping into the feed buckets. Taking refuge in a task that had once meant so much.

A sad night, said a familiar voice.

Bloody Pellen. Stealthy like a cat he was, even with one good leg and one carven-wood stump, to take the place of the shin and foot hed lost to Morg.

When he could trust his face, he turned. Aye. Howd you know?

Ten years of mayorin Dorana had left Pellen Orrick grizzled and inclined to sharp-tongued sarcasm. Fatherhood had warmed him. Buryin his wife had lined him deeper. Two years on and he still grieved. Of course he did. Hed loved Ibby with his whole heart, a heart that never thought Lur held a woman for him.

Good thing hes got little Charis, I reckon. Reckon hed have followed his Ibby into the ground elsewise.

Leaning against the feed-rooms doorjamb, his brass-buttoned blue and crimson guard uniform long since given way to sober, respectable brown wool, Pellen cleared his throat.

Dathne sent word. Seeing Darrans importance, she thought I should know.

Trust Dath to think of it. Hed been too angry. Too sad. She were right. You should.

Hard to believe were losing him, said Pellen. Seems hes as much a part of Dorana as the palace itself.

He nodded. Aye.

You dont talk of it, but I know you and the old man have grown close, these past years, Pellen said quietly. Im sorry, Asher.

Drat the man and his bloody sympathy. Go away, Pellen. Did I ask you to poke your nose into how I feel? Did I? Aye. Well, thats the way of things, aint it? Nowt lasts forever, though you reckon it will.

Pellens hatchet-face stilled, its kindness freezing. Asher? Whats going on? Its not just Darran, is it? Theres something else rubbing at you.

Sink it. First Darran, now Pellen. That was the trouble with having friends. They saw things. Worse, Pellen had been a guardsman and then a captain more than twice the time hed been a mayor. Those keen instincts never left him, which was why he was still mayor. Nobody wrangled the guilds and the Doranen and every last fratchin Olken in the City the way Pellen did.

Oh well. I were always goin to tell him.

He shrugged. I been feelin things. Changes. In the air. In the earth.

Pellen looked at him in silence, fear churning behind his eyes. Pellen Orrick afraid: now, there was a thing. In the weather?

Of course hed guess that. There were four of them left now, him and Dath and Pellen and Darran, who knew close and personal about Jarralt and Morg. Just the four of them still standing, whod stared evil in the face and breathed its foul breath. The rest of Lur, reprieved, and after living it at a distance, had marched on. But not them. They were burdened with memories, weighed down by the past. That was the price theyd paid, so Lur could march on. And now Darran was dyin

Mayhap, he muttered. You aint felt nowt?

Me? Pellen shook his head. No. Whatever magic we Olken possess, its thin in my blood. You know that. He sighed, the lines in his face deepening. Ibby was the one with the gift.

You aint heard folk whisperin in the City?

No, said Pellen. I didnt know I should be listening for them. Ill listen now, if thats what you need.

Asher glanced past Pellen out to the yard, where his friends horse whickered hopefully in the spare stable. All the mucking out and watering and rugging-up was done. Any ticktock now the lads would be barging in, looking for the evening feeds. The Tower horses were banging at their stable walls and doors even louder than before. He turned back to the feed-bins, to finish the task of doling out oats and chaff.

I aint sure what I need. Cept the horse porridge. Fetch me the pot, eh? And the stirrin stick.

So the Mayor of Dorana turned his hand to horse care, and together they finished preparing the evening feeds. Just as he worked the last dollops of steaming barley and linseed through the chaff and oats the lads wrangled into the feed room, laughter hiccupping to surprise as they saw grand Pellen Orrick with bits of porridge on his sleeve.

Here you go then, said Asher. Feeds done, with an extra for His Worships nag. He turned to Mizzil, the senior lad. You be in charge till Meister Divits home again, remember. Dont let me be seein owt amiss, or well have words.

As Mizzil and the other lads swore blind thered be no trouble, Asher caught Pellens amused eye and led him into the yard, where twilight had at last surrendered to night.

You want to see Darran, then? he said, as the lads bustled out of the feed room with their buckets of porridged oats and chaff. Afore

Pellen nodded. Can I?

Kerril said there werent no harm, he replied, and headed out of the yard. Aint nowt she can do to stop him leavin us.

Then I will take a moment, said Pellen, following. But first, tell me what youre going to do aboutthis other business.

Well, Daths for meeting with a few of them Circle Olken. Reckon shes probly right. Aside from her they be the best mages we got.

No, said Pellen, with quiet intensity. Youre our greatest mage, Asher.

Trust him to mention it. I aint any kind of mage, Pellen. Not any more.

I know you like to think so, said Pellen. But Ill not fight with you about it. Not tonight.

Theyd reached the wooden door in the stable yard wall, that gave onto the meandering garden path to the Tower. Opening it, Asher waved Pellen by him then tugged the door closed behind them. A short walk away, the Tower blazed with glimlight, so warm and inviting. No hint of the sorrow gathering beneath its tiled roof.

You cant summon these Circle members here openly, said Pellen, as they continued. His gait was rolling and uneven, the paths gravel echoing his lack of two flesh-and-blood feet.

Asher looked sideways. Why not?

Because more than likely theyll be recognised. If youre not wanting to make a fuss about this

What do you mean? I reckoned on shouting our troubles from the roof of Justice Hall.

Very funny, said Pellen. But by all means, bite my nose off till theres nothing left of it, my friend, if thatll ease you.

The only thing that would ease him was finding this day were nowt but a dream. And since that werent likely

You cant go to them, either, Pellen added. Its meant kindly enough, but even though you live your life circumspect nowadays, folks still take a keen interest in your doings.

And that were true, sink it. He shoved his hands in his pockets. How do we meet with them, then?

With a little sleight-of-hand I think we can bring these mages to Dorana without raising suspicions, said Pellen, after a thoughtful pause. And we can talk matters over at my home. That is, if youre certain the risk is worth it. If you really believe He sighed. I so want you to be wrong.

They were almost at the Tower. Its double doors stood wide open, glimfire washing over its wide steps and the courtyards raked blue and white gravel. Asher put his hand on Pellens arm and tugged him to a halt.

And you reckon I dont? he said, his voice lowered again. You think I aint standin here, quakin in my boots?

Despite his worry, Pellen smiled. You? Quaking? Thatll be the day.

Once Pellen had risked everything, his livelihood, his life, turned his back on his solemn captains oath and leapt blindly to his aid, all because Gar had asked it of him. Because he was a good man who couldnt bear to think that his mistake had caused an innocent man to suffer. A friendship had grown out of that as true, in its own way, as those friendships with Gar and Matt.

Asher let his fingers tighten on Pellens arm. This aint funny, Meister Mayor. It aint He let his hand fall and took a moment to breathe, just breathe. If we celebrated too soon

You think we did? said Pellen, his eyes hooded, his mouth tucked tight. Do you thinkis it possiblecan it be Morg?

No, he said swiftly. Me and Gar UnMade him. Hes dead. But that aint to say his mischief got UnMade the same way. Remember what Tollin found over the mountains? Blight and misery and nowt good anywhere. Killed him in the end, didnt it? And them who came back with him. Took em slower than the others, aye, but it still took em. Reckon Morg left a legacy whats poisoned near the whole world.

And us along with it? said Pellen, openly dismayed. Asher He cleared his throat. Can you fix this? Youyou know what I mean.

Aye. He did. Like Dathne, hed told Pellen the truth about his Weather Magic. He could lie to the kingdom, but he couldnt lie to them. Not after what theyd sacrificed for him. And any road, hed needed them to keep an eye on him, in case something with the magic went wrong one day, what with him being Olken and never meant to wield it.

I dont know, Pellen, he said. First I got to find out if Im guessin right. And then, if I am He scowled. Reckon Ill cross that bridge when I reach it.

Well cross that bridge, Pellen retorted. Youll not tackle this alone, Asher. Not while Im Mayor of Dorana and on both Councils, with an oathsworn duty to keep City and kingdom safe.

Fine, he agreed reluctantly. But this aint for talkin on willy nilly, Pellen. You and me and Dath can know theres trouble. No-one else.

Asher, I can agree with not telling the General Council anything, at least not yet, said Pellen, frowning. But the Mage Council has a right to

No, it bloody dont. Think Ill trust Rodyn Garrick on this? After how he fratched at me about Ain Freidin? Dont reckon Id trust him to tell me the bloody time!

Pellen sighed, gustily. Then what about Barlsman Jaffee and Sarnia Marnagh and

No, Pellen, he snapped. It aint safe. What they dont know wont cause us ructions.

I dont like it, Asher, Pellen muttered. Im not comfortable with these kinds of secrets.

Then you bloody get comfortable, Pellen. I cant sort this with the Mage Council breathin down my neck!

Thisthis change youve been feeling, said Pellen, after a moment. Who else can feel it, do you think?

Rafel. But he couldnt tell Pellen that. He could hardly bear to think it. He and Dath had done what they could to shield their son from the magic that was in himbut was it enough? At only ten, still a sprat, was he outgrowing that protection?

No. No. Dont let it be that.

Dont know, he said. But if it gets any worse therell be a lot of folk feelin it.

If that happens you can forget keeping secrets, said Pellen, and ran a hand over his face. From the Mage Council or the kingdom. How long do we have before this becomes common knowledge?

Dont know that, either.

Is there anything you do know?

Biting his tongue, Asher half-turned away. Brawling with Pellen, on account of they were both frighted and heartsore, werent likely to help things.

I know I need you to stand by me, Pellen. I need you to trust I can find us a way out of trouble.

Dont be a fool! said Pellen, stung. Whatevers gone wrong, I know youll put it right.

There were no doubting his friends sincerity. But suddenly, instead of helping, Pellens faith was a fearful burden.

What if hes wrong? What if I cant? Its been ten years and I aint stirred my magic hardly at all since Morg. What if I cant make it do whats needful? What if I dont know the right words?

Pellen took hold of his shoulder. Asher, dont worry. When the time comesif it comesyoull know what to do. And whatever help you need to do it, just ask. Ill not turn my back.

Good, he said, and heard his voice rasp. Thats good, Pellen.

And since there werent nowt else to say, he started again towards the Tower. Pellen walked with him. They climbed the sandstone steps and went inside, then tramped the spiral staircase to Darrans quiet, sweet-smelling room. Pother Kerril was there, bending over the ole man. Dathne too, at the foot of the bed.

Hes failing fast, she whispered, greeting them at the open door, then managed a trembling smile for Pellen. Im sorry. He wore himself out for the children.

Asher frowned. You let Rafe and Deenie

Yes, she said, her voice sharpening. My decision, Asher. You were too busy sulking.

He didnt want to fight. And Rafe had said he wanted to say goodbye. But Deenie?

I let Charis say goodbye to her mother, said Pellen, his voice low. It pained her, but it was the right choice. Your Deenies a quiet child, Asher, but shes resilient. Not saying goodbye would be harder, I think.

Pellen knew Deenie well. She and his Charis were good friends, thick as thieves. Only a year between the girls, with Deenie the younger, living in each others pockets like peas in a pod.

Asher glanced at Dathne, whose eyes were tear-washed. His heart, which he was guarding, cracked a little for her pain. I aint fratchin you, Dath. Youre their ma, you know whats best.

Can I take a moment with him? said Pellen. Ill not stay long.

Of course, said Dathne, and stroked a hand down Pellens arm. Its good of you to come.

As Pellen crossed to the bed to say his goodbyes, Dathne wiped her wet cheek with the back of one hand. The dear old man told the children one of his stories. The storm at Westwailing. He said youre the bravest man he ever knew. Oh, Asher

Each word was a hammer blow, cracking his heart wider still. That ole fool, that ole scarecrow, that manky ole man. He couldnt speak.

Pellen rejoined them. Ill leave you, he said, his voice rough with sorrow. Send word whensend word. Between us well see hes treated right. Lur owes him a debt he never would let us repay.

On tip-toe, Dathne kissed his cheek. Thank you, Pellen.

Asher nodded. Aye. Thanks.

Pother Kerril released Darrans wrist, straightened and turned. Im sorry, she said, heedless of Pellens departure. Its doubtful he will wake again.

As the pother gathered up her bits and pieces, Asher opened his arms. Dathne leaned into him, sobs choking in her throat. You should sit with him, she said at last. Ill go to the children. They shouldnt be without one of us.

Youre right, he said, and kissed her brow.

Dathne stepped back. He told the children he loves you. Make your peace with him while you can.

She and Kerril left after that, and he was alone in the sweet room with the old dying man. Taking hold of the chair beside the bed, he bumped it closer and sat.

Whyd you make me yell at you, ole crow? he whispered, reaching for Darrans ice-cold hand. Aint I got enough regrets in my life, you make me yell at a dyin ole fool?

The palsy in Darrans face had quieted. He looked peaceful, and painless, breathing so slowly, so shallowly, it was hard to tell that he breathed at all.

You want me to say it, dont you? he demanded. You want me to say it so you can throw it back in my face. He dragged a silk forearm across his burning eyes. Fine, all right, you persnickety ole codger. I love you. You happy now? You got your last laugh? Come on, you meddlesome mugwort. Lets hear you laugh. Lets hear it. Come on.

The silence deepened, muffling as snow.

Aye, well, thatd be right, he said. Got to have the last word, eh? Got to put me in my place. He tightened his fingers. When Gar died, I didnt hate him. You hear me, Darran? Are you listenin? You see him, you tell him that. You tell him that from me.

Deeper silence again. A breath held a waiting and then, like a blessing, the cold fingers in his moved.

But while he was weeping, Darran stole away.

CHAPTER FIVE

After three days of folk saying how sorry they were hed died, they put Darran in the royal crypt next to Das best friend King Gar.

Staring at the marble effigy on top of the tomb, Rafel couldnt believe it wasnt ole Darran magically turned to white stone. He didnt know which was more shocking: that the effigy was so perfect, or that Da had made it. Da never used magic. Only glimfire, and that didnt count. He never talked of it, even. And if anyone tried to make him, well that wasnt a good idea.

Only once hed ever been frightened of Da, and that was the day he complained because other boys fathers did magic, so why wouldnt he? It wasnt fair. The boys he knew from the City, from schoolDoranen boys like Arlin Garrickthey laughed at him and said mean things. Why didnt Da care?

Afterwards, Mama sat with him and let him cry a little bit into her lap. Hed been eight, too big for tears, but Da had been so fearsome angry he couldnt help it.

If those boys laugh again then you walk away, shed told him, cuddling him close. Stupid boys, what would they know? Magics a solemn thing, Rafe. Its not for boasting, or for playing like a game.

Goose plays, hed muttered, sniffing. And that Arlin, he shows off all the time.

Mama flicked the end of his nose. Youre not Goose, or Arlin Garrick. This familys got its own rules when it comes to magic. Rafe She tightened her arms. I hope youre being a good boy. I hope you remember what Da and I said. No-one can know theres Doranen magic in you. Not yet. Not until we tell you its safe to say.

He hated being told that. Why did he have to be a secret? Why did it matter he could do Doranen things? And he could. He did. And not just cracking stones, either. For three weeks now, safe on his lonesome, hed been doing Doranen magics pinched from Arlin Garrick and his poxy friends, and getting the incants and sigils right every time.

Hed had to do it. The itching in him that only magic could scratch got so bad it kept him awake. Got so bad that cracking stones made no difference. The first time he did it, broke his word to Da and Mama, he nigh on wet his trews from fear. Half-expected to die, or be found out. But he didnt. He wasnt. The Doranen magic worked. He turned his white-painted woodcarved pony jet black and nowt terrible happened.

Almost a dozen Doranen spells hed pinched since then, and not once had things gone wrong. So why was he meant to stay a secret? It wasnt fair.

Rafe, said Mama. Are you listening?

Yes, Mama, he said, nodding. Feeling so bad to be lying. Knowing he could never tell her the truth.

Oh, Rafel, she said. Theres more to life than magic. It doesnt make you brave, or good, or strong. You wouldnt be any happier, I promise, if Da and I let you run about the place casting spells from sunup to sundown. Believe me.

She was wrong, but he had to pretend she was right. Yes, Mama.

Yes, Mama, she echoed, smiling, but her eyes were sad. Youre a big boy, Rafe, but youre not grown-up yet. There are things your Da and I know that you dont. Youll have your magic when its time, and not before.

Later that night, when he was tucked up in bed, Da had come to see him. In the warm summer darkness hed sat beside him, his arms safe and strong and holding, his cheek scratchy with stubble.

Sorry I shouted, Rafe, he said, his voice gruff. Sorry I scared you. Youre only eight, a spratling. You dont understand.

Is magic bad, Da? hed asked. Cause I got magic. Does that mean Im bad?

No, Da said, and crushed him so close it was hard to breathe. But you got to be careful, Rafe. Magics deep and dark and dangerous, especially for you.

And there was Da hinting, just like Mama. They were always hinting, they never came out and said. Cause Im like you, Da? Why is that dangerous?

Da sighed. That be a small question with a sinkin big answer, sprat. When you be a mite older well try talkin it through. But for now you got to trust me and your ma to know whats best.

Everything was about when he was older. But he wanted to know now. This was his life, not theirs. And anyway, they were wrong. His Doranen magic wasnt dangerous. It was the best thing in the world.

Da kissed the top of his head. Feels mean, dont it, sprat. Feels poxy unfair. But I never said life was fair, did I? Never promised you that.

No, he never did. He shook his head against Das broad chest. Nuh-uh.

And I will tell you, Rafe, said Da. One day. When you be ready to know.

Though it was dark in his room, not even glimfire, just a little moonlight spilling between the drawn curtains, hed looked up, struggled to read his fathers face. Thought he saw in it truth, and sadness, and memories he didnt want to share.

Really, Da? You promise?

My word, Rafe, said Da, nodding. Man to man.

Da always kept his word. Always. But still How much older, Da?

Just older, said Da, in the voice that said enough.

He was ten now, and still waiting for an answer. For a little while after that, cause he felt so guilty, hed stopped pinching Arlins magics. But only for a little while, cause the itch grew too strong and he had to scratch it. Just like before, nothing went amiss. So he stopped feeling guilty. He was right and Da was wrong. Magic wasnt dangerous, at least not for him.

But he still wanted to know what Da wouldnt tell him.

Not long after his ninth birthday, tired of waiting, hed asked Darran. Why doesnt Da like magic? Whys it make him so fratched?

The ole man had sat at his desk for a long time in silence, counting trins out of one open lockbox and into another. I could answer that, he said at last. But Im not sure I should.

I wont tell, hed said. Promise.

Darran pursed his lips, clinking trins with his fingers. The office door was closed. It was just the two of them alone. Magics not been kind to your father, Rafel, he said at last, so softly. Its been used to hurt him. And hes used it to hurt. He had to, you understand. Your das a good man. Were only safe today because of him. But he never asked for his power. He never was comfortable being important. He never will be.

But why? I think magics grand, he muttered. Da should be happy hes got so much of it.

Is that so, young man? said Darran sharply. Then youve not been listening to a word Ive said. Trust me when I tell you that power is not a promise of happiness. Havent I lived my long life among men of power? Be guided by me, my boy: for every man it makes happy, it makes another three miserable.

Darran didnt understand. How could he? He was an ole man, and he had no power at all. Ive got power, and I aint miserable, Darran.

You? said Darran, his straggly grey eyebrows shooting up. Youve got nothing of the sort. Youve some talent for magic, and more talent for trouble. Thats not power. Nor is it a combination to set a fathers heart at ease. Hed peered then, suspicious. I hope youre not playing games with your magic, Rafel. You know the rules.

That made him feel all fratched. Bloody ole man, scolding. Who asked him, eh? Wasnt his job to scold. He wasnt Da, or Mama.

I know, I know, said Darran, crossly amused. I should mind my own business. But you started this conversation, Rafel, not me. If its not turned out to your liking, well, thats hardly my fault.

Squirmy, hed scowled at the floor. Huh.

Rafel, I shared a confidence with you, which Id like you to keep, said Darran, still snappy. And Id like you to remember this: if youre kept on a leash, and you find it fretsome, consider that your parents have only your best interests at heart. For its true, you do have power. But youre not old enough to wield it or comprehend what it means. Trust your father to know. Trust your father.

I do! hed protested. I do trust him, Darran.

But the ole man didnt look like he believed him, and that had made him so cross hed stormed off to his secret place and cracked so many stones there he had to make a hole and bury them, after.

When that was done, and he sprawled face-up on the ground panting and sweaty, something Darran said had floated back to him like dandelion fluff on a breeze.

Magics not been kind to your father, Rafel. Its been used to hurt him.

Hed never heard that before. He could hardly believe it. Someone hurt Da? With magic? How could they? Da waswasa hero. He was the saviour of Lur. Darran was a stupid ole trout, what did he know? He had to be wrong. Hurt Da with magic?

As if anyone could.

Rafel. Rafel.

Blinking, he pulled free of the past and looked up into his fathers solemn face. They were alone in the crypt now. Mama and Deenie and Uncle Pellen had gone outside. Da looked so sad, glimfire making his eyes too bright. He reached out his hand and Das fingers closed tightly around his, a little muscle leaping along his jaw.

Its a good effigy, Da. It looks just like that ole fish.

Da nodded. The magic took, thats a fact.

He stared again at cold, stone Darran. You did it with Doranen magic, didnt you?

Aye, Da said at last. Gar taught it me, a long time ago.

He looked at King Gars stone likeness. Did you make his, too?

Da nodded again. I did.

He couldnt believe it. They were talking magic. He and Da hardly ever talked magic. Maybe there were some kind of spell on the crypt. Id like to do that. Id like to make a marble picture of Mamas face, when shes smiling.

Das holding fingers twitched. Mayhap you will, sprat. One of these days.

Only if you teach me, Da. Only if you let me do real magic.

Real magic? Da snorted. Doranen magic, you mean.

So? he muttered. Its more fun than earth-songs and flowers.

Rafe Da let go of him. Only reason you think that is cause you aint got any idea what Doranen magic be about.

He wanted to shout, Yes I do! He wanted to show Da here and now the things hed taught himself, pinching Arlin Garricks magics. But he couldnt. The trouble thered be, if he did that.

So he scuffed his boot-heel on the crypt floor, feeling hot and sulky. I would if youd tell me.

And I will tell you, Rafe, Da said, snappish. Just not today. So dont go on at me.

I aint, he protested. I onlyDa, I want to make faces in marble, like you do. Cause its beautiful.

Even though he was fratched, a reluctant smile tugged at Das lips. Beautiful, eh? You tryin to wheedle me, sprat?

No, Da, he said, earnest and dutiful, though of course he was and both of them knew it. Im just saying my druthers. Couldnt you tell me the words? Couldnt you show me how they go? Just this once?

He wanted it so badly there was a pain in his chest. Him and Da together, doing magic. No need for telling tales, no need to hide. Him and Da doing magic, out in the open.

Da let loose a slow sigh. You aint strong enough, Rafe. Once Doranen magic gets in your head you cant get it out again. It sits there like a toad. It changes you, sprat, and there aint no changin back after, not even if you want to.

Now Da looked worse than sad. Dumbstruck, Rafel folded his arms.

That aint true, Da. Im not changed. I havent got a toad in my head.

Rafel, said Da, and dropped to a crouch before him. Listen. I got to ask you a thing. I got to ask, and you got to answer me straight.

He nodded, slowly. Fright made his mouth suck dry. Does he know? Has he found out? All right, Da. I will.

What did you tell Darran, that you aint told me or your ma? About magic. About feelin things in the earth.

Fright flashed to indignation. That ole fart. That ole trout. He promised hed not tell. Betrayal hooked him like a fish, left him gasping for air.

Da fastened strong fingers to his shoulder. Shaking him a little, his eyes fierce, he scowled. No use fratchin at Darran, Rafe. Hes dead, he aint listenin. And I need to know what happened. When did you come over funny, sprat?

Week afore last, he said, his voice small. Glaring at stone Darran from underneath his lashes. You promised. You promised.

And what were you doing? Were you doing magic?

He had to look at the floor again, afraid his guilty secret would show in his eyes. No, Da. Only working with the blocks.

The blocks Pother Kerril had told him he needed for practise, so his Doranen magic didnt fizz up his blood. Da didnt like it, not one bit, but Kerril said it had to be. Kerril said it was dangerously foolish to go on pretending his magic didnt exist. Hed not said a word, hed been so scared his guilty secret would show then, too. But it didnt. And ever since, for nearly five months, hed practised with the blocks Kerril gave him. She was right. They did help scratch his itches. Butbut

Da! he said, his heart jumping. Was itwas it my fault? Did I

No! said Da, almost shouting. Aint none of this your fault, sprat.

Giddy with relief, he nearly blurted it all out. Nearly told Da everythingthen swallowed the words just in time. Da could never know. Neither could Mama. Neither of them would ever understand.

Rafe, said Da, gently now. Tell me what you felt. Its all right. You aint in trouble.

Not so long as he kept his secret, he wasnt. I felt a funny skritching, all over.

Like ants havin a picnic neath your shirt and trews?

Dumbly, he nodded.

And then, said Da, a kind of rumble and rollin, like someone put you in a pepper pot and shook you all about?

Aye, Da, he whispered. And then the airthe air

Da sighed. It felt like the air got its neck wrung, like a chicken?

A tiny sobbing gasp escaped him. Yes. Did you

Aye. Me and your ma. We felt it too. How many other times have you felt it, Rafe?

Once. The day Darran got sick. To his shame, his voice broke. He felt his eyes sting, and his lips quiver. He wanted to bawl like Deenie, left behind because boys dont play with girls.

Da pulled him close in a tight hug. Why didnt you tell me and your ma? Letting go, he sounded hurt. Why did you tell that ole fool Darran and not us?

I never meant to tell him, Da, he said, feeling like hed stuck a knife in Das heart. Only he came looking for you when I was practicing the blocks, and thats when I got the feeling, and he saw. Another hot rush of anger. He said he wouldnt tell.

He only told cause he knew he were dyin, said Da. And he thought we should know. Rafe, whyd you keep it a secret?

He scuffed the floor again. Thought I might be comin down with an ague, he muttered. Thought you might say I couldnt go with Goose and his da to see the brewery in Banting.

And the second time? said Dathen shook his head. I spose, with Darran poorly

He nodded. And even though Darran poorly had really been Darran dying, even though they were stood right in front of his coffin, he still felt rankled. Cause Darran had promised.

Rafe, said Da, noticing. The ole trouts dead. You forgive him, eh? Youll feel better if you do.

He wasnt so sure on that, but it was Da asking, so he turned to the coffin and kissed the ole mans stone brow. I forgive you, Darran. Reckon you thought you were doing what was right.

Rafe, said Da, after a moment, sitting himself on the crypts cool floor. You believe me, dont you, that it werent you practisin your blocks as made things go awry? Cause it werent your fault, no more than bein able to do Doranen magic be your fault.

Did this mean they were going to talk about it, at last? Suddenly hopeful, he bumped himself down beside his father. Then why wont you let me learn more magic, Da? If I aint doing anything wrong, why wont you?

Da shook his head again. Cause it aint that simple, sprat. A thing dont have to be wrong for it to be the wrong thing to do. There be a time and a place for you and Doranen magic, but we aint there yet.

But

I told you, Rafe. Doranen magic sneaks up on you. And you dont see what it really means until its too bloody late.

Da didnt sound hurt any more. Now he sounded angry, like he wanted to take out his magic and punch it.

Da, he said, his voice small. II dont mind it all that much.

You dont? Da said. He sounded almost puzzled. It dont fright you?

He shook his head, feeling bad. As though not hating his magic was the same as not loving Da. No.

Not ever?

Remembering how it felt to crack stones, and dance leaves, and make his bathwater leap into frogs and dogs and horsesremembering all the other wonderful things hed donehe stared at his knees. He could always lie. He could say it did fright him sometimes, and that might make Da feel better. But he didnt want to. He didnt know why, but he knew that would feel even worse than not confessing his terrible secret.

No, Da. It dont fright me. Not even a bit.

Rafe, Rafe, said Da, sighing. What am I sposed to do with you, eh?

More than anything he wanted to say, Let me be a mage. If hed been born Doranen hed be learning Doranen magic. Hed be like Arlin Garrick, magicking all over the place. If he was like Goose, just an ordinary Olken, hed be doing Olken magic and nobody would think twice.

But I aint one thing or the other. Same as Da, Im both. And he thinks cause he dont like it then I shouldnt either. And that aint right.

But he couldnt tell Da that. He was just a sprat. He went hot, feeling his prickly crossness rise.

Rafe, said Da, you got to tell me and your ma if you feel that skritchiness again.

I will, Da. He chewed his lip. Da what does it mean?

Da grabbed hold of King Gars tomb and hauled himself to his feet. The crypts glimfire danced shadows over his face as he walked round and round between the coffins, staring at the peaceful marble people without ever seeing them proper.

I felt it, Da, so you ought should tell me, he said, so daring. Nobody bossed Da about. Well, nobody save Ma. Da shot him a sharp look, but didnt scold him on it. He was scowling, like he did when all his thoughts were tangled. Tell me, Da. Please? I wont tattle, my word, man to man.

Da looked like he wanted to swear. Really swear, lots of bad words, the ones Mama wouldnt let him say. Its complicated, Rafe. You be a spratling, and this aint spratling business.

Prickly cross, prickly cross. Maybe not, Da. But I felt what you and Mama felt. I never asked to, but I did. It aint fair if you dont tell me.

Da stopped circling the crypt. Halted at King Gars marble feet and brooded into his cold white stone face. It was a nice face. Sad, and understanding. So young. Hard to think of Da that young, the same age as King Gar when he died. He wasnt exactly old now, not as old as Uncle Pellen, say, but he looked old. Not in a wrinkled way. In a sad way. A tired way.

I never saw that before. I never saw he looked tired. I never saw that made him look older than he is.

He felt odd, all of a sudden. Standing on the outside, looking at his da. Thinking these strange thoughts. Noticing things.

I were your age when my ma died, Da said, very quiet. She got sick and no pother could help her. Just like that, I werent a spratling no more. My da were lost without her. My brothers well His face pinched. Werent no love lost there. I learned things, Rafe. I learned em too soon. He nodded at King Gars effigy. So did he. Werent no reason for us to be friends, youd think. He was royalty. I werent. But he learned things young too, and they made him sad. I knew what that felt like. Thats how we were friends. He lived sad, and he died sad. He never had a chance. Rafe, you dont need to know whats going on. Not yet, any road. When you do Ill tell you. My word, man to man. But you stay a sprat for now. Youll grow up soon enough.

Staring at him, Rafel knew hed waste his breath complaining. Just like with his magic, he wasnt allowed a say. All right, if he was honest, the upset in the earth did fright him a tiddy bit. Hed told himself it were nowt, he just had an ague, but down deep hed known different. Down deep hed known something was wrong. And without ever saying so, Da had told him he was right.

He cant pretend Im ordinary forever. One day hell have to stop treating me like a sprat.

Rafel, said Da. His voice was stern. It was the voice he used when what he said was as good as a law. His Justice Hall voice. This be serious business. What you felt aint to be talked on. Have you told it to Goose, or any other boy or girl?

Hed been thinking to tell Goose. He told Goose most everything. Hed just been waiting till he felt not so wobbly. No, Da. I only told Darran.

Huh, Da grunted. Thats somethin, any road. So you dont tell Goose, you hear me? No teasin him on what you felt, and no askin if he felt it. You dont tell anyone. I got your word on that?

He nodded, smothering disappointment. He hated keeping secrets from Goose. Aye, Da.

Das face relaxed. I know it dont seem fair, Rafe. I know you be fratched cause you aint got your answer. But youll get it, by and by.

He sighed. His father kept on saying that, but it was getting harder to believe him. Aye, Da.

Good sprat, said Da. Now wed best be on our way, or your ma will be thinkin weve turned to marble in here.

Side by side they left the crypt, the glimfire snapping to darkness behind them, and walked out blinking into the Garden of Remembrance. Every time he came here he stopped to look at the statue of the man he was named for, who died a hero in the war against Morg. He didnt exactly know how it happened. Darran never told him that story. But every time he stood here with Da, and he looked at Das face, he knew it was a sad tale.

Other straggling folk were here and there in the garden, because everyone loved the flowers and the trees, but nobody tried to speak to them, on account of the whole City knowing Darran was being put in the crypt today. They got stared at, though. One ole biddy was weepin. Da noticed, but he didnt say a word.

Come on, he said, after theyd stood there a goodly while, looking at the statues of Rafel and Veira and Matt. Therell be supper waitin for us in the Tower, and your ma with a wooden spoon to wallop us cause we aint sat at the table on time.

That made him giggle, even though he was mixed up, prickly cross and sad. Not you, Da. Mama aint going to wallop you.

Da rolled his eyes. Aint no-one your ma wouldnt wallop, Rafe. She aint got a fear in her, that wench. Make certain sure you find a woman to marry whats like your ma. Lifell be sweet, that road.

He grinned. You called Mama a wench.

Wash out your ears, said Da, grinning back. I did no such thing. Now stir your stumps, sprat. Its time to go.

On a shared smile they turned their backs on the garden and wandered home to the Tower, companionably silent. Overhead a ghost moon winked at the sliding sun, and the waking nightbirds sang in the djelba trees. Nightbirds never stopped singing, and they never sounded sad.

Rafe swallowed a small sigh. Wherever Darran was, he hoped the ole man could hear them.

Naked and sated, Asher smoothed Dathnes tangled hair from her face and kissed the corner of her mouth. Her lips moved beneath his, curving into a smile, and she slapped his arse lightly.

Get off me, you lump.

Obliging, he rolled to her side and scooped her against him with one arm. Their skin stuck moistly together; she smelled of roses and apricots. Heaving a contented sigh, his head comfortable on their pillows, he dropped a hand to cover her breast. Her hand covered his, and they lay for some time in sighing silence.

The ole fart reached a goodly age, he said softly, at last. A better age than my da did, Barl rest his bones.

Dathnes fingertips traced idle patterns on his belly. I wondered if youd thought on that. But you never said, and I didnt want to pry.

He snorted. First time for everythin, eh?

Rogue, she said, pinching him. So. You made your peace with the dear old man?

Shed not asked, before. It was one of the many things he loved about her, the way she could sit silent and wait till she knew he were ready to talk on things that mattered.

Aye, he said, feeling again Darrans cold fingers in his hand. We settled things.

Her lips pressed against his chest. Good. You travelled a strange road together, you and that persnickety fellow. You hurt each other on purpose, and not but even so

It were funny, how she was so much harder than him but could still easily touch matters close to the heart, when he couldnt.

Dont worry, she added. There was a smile in her voice. I aint about to get maudlin on you, Meister Asher.

He thanked her with another kiss, slow and considering. She laughed, amusement whispering, and stroked her hand down his back, fingertips bumping from scar to scar.

You spoke to Rafe? she said, head settling on his shoulder. I hope you did. I took Pellen and Deenie out so youd have a moment with him alone.

Aye, he said. I spoke to him.

And? she prompted, after a moment.

He sighed. And he dont much like bein held back, Dathne.

You think thats news to me? she said. Hes wanted to run before he could walk ever since he snapped his fingers and called glimfire when he was barely a year old. What did you tell him?

I told him not to fret on what he felt. That it were important, but you and me, we were mindin it cause thats our job, not his.

You know The gentle fingers scoring his skin ceased their movement, leaving him bereft. We cant hold him back forever. We dont dare. The power in him will find its way to the surface, no matter how deeply we try to keep it buried.

He felt his heart pound. Felt his hot blood flow cold, thinking on it. I never said forever, Dath. But hes a spratling. Hes ten. Hes got his whole life for magic. It can wait.

Can it? she said, and wriggled until she was up on her elbows looking down at him. Moonlight turned her sharp face to silver, and shone mysterious in her dark, solemn eyes. Asher, you and I, were children of the old kingdom. Hes a child of the new. Magic is his birthright. Its the birthright of every Olken, if they choose to embrace it. And hes made his choice, my love. He wants what he was born with, Olken and Doranen magic both. What we want what you want thats not important. Child or not, we cant ride roughshod over him.

Speak for yself, he retorted. I bloody can. Hes my son. Im his father.

She let herself drop back to the feather mattress, and their blankets. When you say things like that, Asher, I think you must sound like your brothers.

The words stung him, as she knew they would. That aint fair, Dath. I aint like Zeth and the rest of em. I dont use my fists, and my belt, and I dont scream at him neither. I dont use him up and spit him out. No, and I aint like my da was, neither. He let grief turn him blind to what were goin on under his nose. But me, I aint blind, Dath. Rafes my life, you bloody know that. Aint nowt I wont do for him.

Nowt but let him be himself, she said gently. Asher, hes not you. Hes not

Not what? Go on, Dath. Dont say your tongues fallen out now.

She lay quietly beside him, her moonlight face darkened with shadows. Not afraid, she said at last. Not bitter. Hes living his life, not yours. And in his life magics a thing to be celebrated, notnot kicked aside.

Her words stole his breath.

My love, you cant protect him, she said, letting her hand rest atop his busy heart. Not from this. Barl save us, Asher, we tampered with him, and he still felt what we felt. Like it or not, thats the truth we have to swallow once and for all. Rafels a mage of power with Doranen magic in him. And nothing we can do will save him from that.

He closed his eyes. You aint never called me coward before. Not once. Not even at Veiras cottage, and I was frighted to death then. You sayin I be a coward now cause I want to keep my son safe?

Being afraid and being a coward arent the same thing and you know it, she snapped. Dont try to fratch me into a fight, Asher, just so you wont have to talk about this. And hes our son. Not yours alone.

Aye, hes our son, he said, sitting up. Her hand fell away from him but he didnt feel the lack of it. And there aint a body in this kingdom knows better than us what harm being a powerful mage can do. Do you want that for him? After what we lived through? What we dream on, ten years later? Is that what you want for him?

I want what you want, she said. Rafe happy. Lur safe.

He flinched as her warm hand came to rest between his shoulder blades. He reckons hes hard done by, but hes a spratling. He knows nowt. We let him muck about with magic, Dath, hell learn quick smart what unhappys about. He will. I swearif I could rip his magic out of him with my bare hands, I would.

A creaking of the bedboards as she sat up beside him. A caress of warmth, as she sighed across his bare skin and slid her arms around his ribs. Oh, Asher.

Mayhap that Kerril can brew up a potion, he said, staring through the chamber window at the moon, fat and full and boldly shining. Some way of smotherin whats bubblin in him, pastpast what weve kept locked away safe. Hes too young for it, Dath. He aint ready for what it means.

I thought you were over this, she murmured, her cheek resting against his spine. Ten years is a long time. I thought I hoped Will you never accept who you are? What you are?

And what am I, Dath? A fisherman who aint allowed the sea. A fisherman brimful of magic, who never once asked for it. A da who cant protect his son from pain. A da who gave him that pain, who bloody poisoned him with

Asher, stop it! she said, and tightened her arms till his ribs creaked. This is grief talking. This is your nerves on edge because of what you felt in the Weather Chamber. Your imaginations run rampant, dreading the worst with no good reason. Youre being foolish. Its not like you.

On a deep breath he turned, and pulled her into his arms. Buried his face in her hair, buried his fears in the feel of her, soft yielding flesh over bones of diamond and gold.

Hush, my love, hush, she murmured, her warm hands gentling him. Well be all right. Rafe will be all right. Whatever were facing well survive it. Youre the Innocent Mage, my love. You were born to prevail.

Because he loved her, because she ruled him, he showed her his face. You sure on that? You promise?

Tears shimmered in her eyes. I promise.

They made love again, not tenderly. And afterwards, spent and panting, waited a long time for sleep to claim them.

You called them Circle folk here yet? he asked, hearing his voice slur. We got to get things sorted, Dath.

Her unbound hair tickled his skin as she slowly shook her head. Tomorrow, she said, drowsy. Ill send word to them tomorrow. With Darran at rest I can think clearly now.

He hadnt meant to nag. Right. Tomorrow.

You mustnt fret, she whispered, on the brink of sleep. Theyll come, and well sit down together and see whats what. Theres an answer to this mystery and theyll help us find it.

Drowsy himself, he drifted his fingers to the old faded scar on his chest. Felt the shard of Circle crystal he still carried within him, that he couldve had cut out a hundred times over but didnt.

Aye, he said. Aye, well find it.

And didnt know if he believed that, or not.

CHAPTER SIX

Heart thudding, Rafel closed Das library door behind him. He wasnt meant to be in here. Not without Da or Mama. He wasnt meant to know what Da kept in the big trunk under the window. And he definitely wasnt sposed to faddle with it.

But here he was. Alone in Das library where he wasnt meant to be. Cause it was in his head like a worm in an apple, to have a looksee in that trunk full of books and scrolls on Doranen magic.

Two days after they put Darran in the royal crypt hed overheard Da talking to Uncle Pellen on some bit of Doranen magic or other he had to rule on in Justice Hall, saying as how hed been studying what Durm said on it in the privy diaries the master magician had left behind. Uncle Pellen had muttered how the thought of those magics being writ down to fall into the wrong hands made him awful nervous. And Da had said how Uncle Pellen werent to fret, for they were kept safe and tight in his library trunk where no eyes but his would ever see em.

That was all hed overhead, cause Da and Uncle Pellen had started walking down the Tower stairs again on their way out to the stables. But hed not been able to forget what was said. Could hardly sleep for wondering what more he could learn about Doranen magic, that he couldnt pinch off Arlin. That Da wouldnt tell him, even though he ought to.

Every time Da wouldnt, he felt better about his terrible secret.

Then, a week after he overheard Da and Uncle Pellen talking their business, out of the blue came this one chance to have a looksee for himself. With Da and Mama gone early to visit Uncle Pellen, and Deenie spending the day with Charis, Cluny to mind them, and no more stickybeaking Darran in the Tower, Barl rest him, and this his one day of the week let out of school, he could sneak into Das library and have a rummage through that trunk of magic. Cause the spells he pinched from Arlin, they were all right but they werent big spells. And he really, really wanted to try a big spell.

So even though he knew this was bad, he waited till no-one was nearby and slid into Das library like an eel into waterweeds. And if a teeny tiny part of him felt ashamed of doing this behind Das back, when Da trusted him? Well. He wasnt going to think about that. What was one more secret? Besides. He wouldnt have to sneak, would he, if Da would keep his promise, and talk magic.

The mysterious trunk had a lock on it.

Not an ordinary lock, neither, with a brass key to turn it. No, this lock was made of Doranen magic. He could feel its buzziness in his mind, behind his eyes, where he always felt it. Scowling, Rafel thumped to the carpet in front of the trunk. Not one spell hed ever pinched off Arlin would do the trick.

Sink it.

He closed his eyes. Sat very still and quiet. Let the buzziness in his mind tell him what the lock looked like and maybe how it could be undone. Inside his head he saw it as a big ball of string, looped and knotted and stuck through with thorns. But if he tugged this bitthen this bitand got it loose and wiggly right there

With an odd kind of springiness, the trunks Doranen-magic lock gave way. Shocked, Rafel opened his eyes. Hed done it. All by himself, without even one of Arlins pinched spells to help him. And the feeling of it, the way the magic made his blood thick and hot, the way it made him feel strong andandinvincible. Not one of Arlins spells had ever made him feel like this, like a real mage. He was Rafel of Dorana, and hed fuddled Das lock.

If Da finds out hell bloody fuddle me.

But he was too cockahoop to fret on that right now. Hurrying, cause chances were one of the Tower maids would get down to dusting this floor pretty soon, he lifted the trunks lid and gazed greedily at its contents.

All the books! And the scrolls! All the secret Doranen magic!

Careful, since Da would notice if the trunks contents were messed about too much, he poked and prodded his way through the forbidden treasure. Read a bit here, a bit there, understanding some of it. Not all. Not most of it. Feeling the buzziness in his mind stir stronger and louder. Feeling his fingers itch, wanting so much to play.

But he didnt dare. If something went wrong

Goose said once, when they were talking on magic, that a lot of Durms books had ended up in the General Council library. His da, whod been a councilor then, couldve brought some home if hed wanted. Only he had no interest in Doranen magic, which had nowt to do with hops and ale, and Goose said he didnt want a clip over the ear for asking, thanks.

But compared to these books of magic, those others were nothing. He didnt care any more that he couldnt get his hands on them. These books, with Durms name scrawled and faded on the flyleaf, they were special. And one day hed read them and learn every spell. One day hed do every last bit of magic in them. And then he could feel like a real mage every day.

But not today. He couldnt stay in Das library any longer. Through the closed door he could hear Biddy singing, loud and out of tune like always, as she dusted her way down the Tower staircase. If she found him in here thered be such a ruckus

Reluctantly, he started to close the trunks lid. Then his eye caught sight of a fat scroll tucked down the side. It looked much newer than the other scrolls hed rummaged through. Holding his breath he eased it out, undid the ribbon keeping it closed and let it unroll just enough to see.

His heart thumped so hard it nearly leapt out of his chest. Tollins account of his expedition over Barls Mountains. He felt like dancing. Like shouting. Like laughing out loud. Not caring any more that Biddy was dusting closer, he let the scroll unroll itself properly.

And it turned out there were three copies of the same account bundled together. The writing was small and cramped and squiggly, so that Tollins memories would fit front and back on one long sheet of parchment.

Rafel stared at his discovery, feeling sweaty sick. Everything he ever wanted to know about Tollins adventures, that Da and Mama would never ever tell him, that not even ole gossipy Darran would tell him

I could take one. I could. Whyd they need three for? They dont need three. And if I keep it proper hidden, no-one will find out.

All those books and scrolls of magic. All the truths Da wouldnt share. The magic that was kept from him. The things he didnt know.

Da shouldnt keep secrets. Not about me.

Quickly he took one of Tollins scrolls, folded it over and over and shoved it inside his shirt, down the waistband of his trews. Then he rolled up the other two, tied the ribbon tight round them again, shoved them back into the trunk then closed its lid with a soft thump.

And then he realisedhe had to lock it again.

Oh.

With his eyes closed and his mind still, feeling that lumpy folded parchment slowly warming against his skin, he picked up the undone ends of Das lock and put them back the way they were. Not sure how he was doing it, knowing only that he was. That he could feel exactly which bit went where, and how, so Da would never know what had happened.

When he was finished Rafel opened his eyes, shaken and blinking as the buzziness in his mind faded. The trunk was locked again. It was time to go. He and Goose were meeting at the City gates to spend the day on horseback. If he didnt hurry he was going to be late.

Closing Das library door behind him, he heard Biddys clomping footsteps on her way down the staircase. Any ticktock she was going to find him.

He bolted.

Hey! Hey! Race you! Goose shouted as soon as they were safely through the City gates, and dug his heels into his ponys ribs. Eyes rolling, ears flattened, the pony swished its tail and bolted.

Rafel stared after him, mouth dropped, then let out a bloodcurdling yell. Stag needed no more urging. With a snort and a kick-behind he pounded after Gooses pony. Lucky thing the road into the City was empty just then, for between them theyd have easy run a fancy carriage into the ditch.

Laughing, breathless, the wind whipping his face, Rafel galloped after Goose. Heels drumming, elbows flapping, lurching left and right in his saddleStablemeister Divit called his best friend a sapsterGoose veered off the roadway and across the open meadow towards the river where it pooled and puddled near Dragonshead Bridge.

Gooses pony was a game one, but Stag was bred down on the Dingles, on the horse farm King Gar started when he was a spratling prince. The best bloodlines in Lur came from Kingsfarm: Cygnet, and poor dead Ballodair, and every horse in the Tower. His first pony, Flea. Then Dancer. Now Stag.

Standing in his stirrups, knees gripped tight to Stags barrel ribs, he buried his fisted hands in the ponys black mane and shouted into one turned-back ear. Go on! Catch him, Stag! Catch him! Go on!

He felt the pony stretch out long and low beneath him and saw clottings of green turf fly past, dug loose by Stags hard shod hooves. They were gaining on Goose gaining gaining there was the bridge there was their favourite patch of flower-scattered meadow there was the deep riverpond, known to locals as the Dragons Eye

Ha! he shouted, triumphant, as Stag surged past Gooses wallowing beast. Beat you, Goosie! Beat you! Ha!

Gooses wail of defeat made him laugh and laugh. Which was mean, he knew it was mean, but he couldnt help it. He liked to win.

Their race over, they let the hobbled ponies graze the grass and flowers, kicked off their boots and socks and sat on the ponds low grassy bank dangling their bare feet above it. Nearby flowed the Gant, wide and slothful. The snow up high hadnt melted yet, so the springrace was still a few weeks away. A long stones-throw distant stood Dragonshead Bridge, and the sound of the river slipping and sliding around and past its stone supports was sleepy and comfortable. The Eye sparkled in the sunshine, early dragonflies dancing across its still, mirror surface.

Rafel breathed out a huge sigh of satisfaction. Aside from practising his magic, there was no better way to spend a free day than with Goose and the wide blue sky, nowt else. What with Darran dying and all, it felt like years since hed been let loose to amuse himself.

And theres Tollins adventure inside my shirt. I got such a tale to tell. One of these days, said Goose, his long black hair flopping, Im going to win a race agin you.

Yreckon? he said, grinning.

Goose slumped. Probly not.

Probly youre right, he said, still grinning, and idly kicked Gooses knobby sockless ankle. Get yourself a Dingles-bred pony, you might stand a chance.

Dont you spit on Taff, said Goose, firing up. Hes a good pony, he is.

Rafel looked sideways to where Stag and Gooses pony were tearing at the meadow, their slipped bits jangling, nudging and jostling jealously over the sweetest bite of grass. Stags dark brown coat gleamed ripe with dapples. Beside him, Gooses muddy cream pony looked a lot like a nag.

Goose, seeing it, stayed loyal. Any road. Even if my dad did believe in paying Dingles money for a pony, I wouldnt push Taff out. Were friends, him and me.

I know. He didnt want a brangle with Goose. Not when the sun was shining and the day was theirs to play with. Not with Tollins parchment snug tight against his skin. Youre right. Hes a good pony.

After a hard look, just to make sure he wasnt being joshed, Goose reached beneath his laced-up leather jerkin. There was a clinking, and some wrestling, then two bottles of beer sat on the grassy bank between them.

Impressed, Rafel stared. That for us?

No, said Goose, going cross-eyed. For Taff and Stag.

That your das brew?

It is, said Goose. His best strong beer, from the bottling that won him the last guild gold medal. A quick, shy smile. Goose was proud of his da. Put hairs on your chest, that will.

Did he want hairs on his chest? Theyd be a bit hard to explain Chewing his lip, Rafel frowned at Gooses folly. Beer, eh? Hed never drunk a whole bottleful before. Sometimes Da gave him a mouthful from his own tankard. He didnt care for it overmuch but he never told Da that, because sharing a brew was manly important. He wasnt about to tell Goose, neither. Not with his friend all puffed up for bringing it.

Your da catches you pinching his prize beer, Goose, youll get walloped right into next week, he said. He notices his prize beer gone missing, you wont sit down three Barlsdays running.

Goose hooted. Notice two bottles gone? My dad wont notice that. Hes got so much beer in the pantry theres no room for spuds. You should hear my ma. Trust me, Rafe, Im safe.

Probly that was true. These days Gooses da was Meister of the Brewers Guild. Near to all the back yard of his City house in Brewers Corner was taken up with a hops-oven and a malting hut and the smelly vats where he made his homebrew beer. Breathing at Gooses house was like swimming in the stuff, yeasty and eye-tickling. He always went home from Gooses smelling like an alehouse, so Mama made him wash even when he was still clean.

Goose held out one bottle. Drink up.

He took it. There was a little gleam in Gooses eye, as though he knew this was a kind of dare. As though he knew he could make up for losing another pony race. Ha. Rafel unstopped the bottle with his teeth, spat out the spongewood stopper and tipped his head back. Beer swilled, blood-warm and heady, over his tongue and down his parched throat. The taste was strong and earthy, a punch to his belly. A rush to his head. It didnt taste anything like the beer Da liked to drink.

Good, eh? said Goose, smacking his lips. Hed been raised on beer, and ale, and watered-down wine. He was going to be a brewer when he was a man growed. Not because his da said he had to, though he did, but because he wanted it.

And whatll I be? I dont know. I want to be an explorer, cept there aint nowt left to explore in Lur. And we cant get past the reef and there aint no more going over the mountains, so that doesnt leave me much save Council work, and who wants that? I dont.

Keep drinking, said Goose, not noticing. You let beer sit too long, all the bubbles burst. You shouldnt let it sit too long once youve unstopped it, Rafe. All the goodness is in the bubbles.

He gave Goose a sideways look. Practising to be Guildmeister, are you?

Goose shrugged. No. Its just you got to drink beer proper, Rafe. You got to respect it.

Respect it? It was beer. But there was Goose looking to get all hot and bothered, so he shrugged and swallowed another mouthful. Didnt want Goose thinking he was a girl, did he? It tasted even better this time. He swallowed again. Burped. Laughed.

Goose was eyeing his own bottle sadly. Hed nearly drained it dry. Shouldve brought more.

He nodded, grinning. This was good beer. Worth its gold medal. Aye.

I will, next time, said Goose, slumping his chin to his chest. Two each. Dad wont notice. He never notices what I do. He says I wont be interesting till Im old enough to shave.

Rafel pulled a face. Poor ole Goose. Still, the beer was good. Swallow by swallow, his stolen bottle emptied.

Below their dangling bare feet, gaddies chased away the dragonflies and whizzed in dizzy circles above the riverponds quiet surface. A stir, a splash, and a fat silver-scaled carp hurtled into the air and swallowed a mouthful of gauzy wings. Goose hooted again, finger waving. Lookee that! Lookee!

Goose was tall and gangly for ten, lots of space in him to fill out. His da was a big man, and hed be big too. So it always seemed funny, that he could giggle like a girl. Like Deenie and Uncle Pellens Charis when they played silly dolls together.

Rafel snatched a handful of grass and threw it at him, haphazard. Its a fish, Goose. You aint seen fish before?

Sure I seen fish, said Goose. But these are funny fish, Rafe.

Beneath the riverponds surface more silver carp thrashed and jostled. The water seethed then fell silent.

Oh, said Goose, disappointed. Whered they go?

Somewhere, he said, and tipped the last of the warm beer between his teeth. In his head a warm buzz, like the droning of summer bees. Like Doranen magic. Want em back, do you?

Goose tip-tilted his own beer bottle, gurgling the dregs. Yes, but theyre gone.

Poor Goose. His da hardly noticed him and his pony wasnt Dingles-bred. Itd never run faster than Stag, not even if it had two extra legs. Rafel tossed aside his emptied purloined beer bottle then tugged the folded parchment out from under his shirt.

Here, he said, flipping it to Goose. Mind that. No peeking. Goose fumbled the catch. What is it? he said, picking up Tollins scroll from the grass.

A surprise, for later, he answered, then scrunched himself right to the edge of the riverbank. Slid a little further, then dropped down into Dragoneye Pond.

Rafel! said Goose, his voice squeaking. Rafe, dont be daft! Dont go in there. You want to drown?

I aint going to drown, he said, the cool water lapping at his leather belt. Cutting him in half. Beneath his bare feet sludge squished and pebbles bruised. I could swim before I could walk. Well, almost. Near enough. Him and Deenie both werent frighted of the water, Da had made certain sure of that. Theyd even been swimming in the ocean, down on the coast. But dont you try it, Goose, he added, and jabbed a pointed, warning finger. Youre a City Olken through and through. Youd be drownded in no time.

Aw, come on, Rafe, come up from there, Goose begged. What if you slip? What if I cant pull you out?

Tosh, he said. That was one of ole Darrans little words. Tosh. It meant, dont be a doddlehead. Saying it, remembering, he felt a sharp sting of pain. But just as quick he squashed it hard like a bed bug, because fretting on Darran wouldnt bring him back to life.

Rafe, said Goose. He was almost wailing. Stretching the sound long, like a piece of string. Gangly tall Goose-egg, all fratched and frighted. Tosh.

Ignoring him, Rafel rested his gaze on the riverponds sun-sparkled surface. The darting gaddies had darted away. He could see the blue sky reflected, and skittish lamb-clouds. He could see his own face. Rafel of Dorana, the hero Ashers only son. There was Da in there, and Mama. Bits and pieces of folk hed never know. He was in there. They were his eyes.

Thats my face. Thats me. But whos me?

In his blood there was beer, its bubbles bursting. In his blood there was power, that could crack stones and whirl leaves and do all kinds of things. That could unpick magic locks hed never come across before. Because of his power he felt oddness in the earth, just like Da.

A mage. Thats who I am. Thats what I want to be.

With his mage eyes he looked deep into the pond. Saw the fish. Saw right into them, and felt their little lives. Then he looked into his thudding heart. Into his blood, which held his magic.

If Da finds out what Ive been up to, therell be so much trouble. Da hates his magic, so I have to miss out.

Hot crossness prickled him. He was tired of missing out. Tired of being a secret. Goose knew a little bit, but he didnt know it all. He trusted his friend like he trusted his own hand, or his foot, but it was safer that way.

Goose, he said, not looking up. If I show you something, you have to promise not to tell.

I promise, said Goose. Show me what? Rafe, whats going on?

Hush up, he said dreamily. I need to think.

Rafe! said Goose, close to wailing again. Youre making me nervous. Come out of there. Please?

He shook his head, grinning. No. Just you watch this.

Watch what? said Goose. Rafe, what are you doing?

Instead of answering, he dabbled his fingers across the riverponds sleeping surface. Come on, little fishies, he crooned under his breath. You aint going to hide from Goosie, are you? Come on. You come back now. Rafel says come back.

The stolen beer was all swallowed, but he could still taste it on his tongue. He could feel it in his belly, warm and sloshing. He could feel it in his head, softly buzzing. He could feel his magic buzzing, the way it sang without words, sang a tune only he could hear. The rest of the world was deaf. Da was deaf.

Da doesnt want to hear.

One by one Goosies little fishes came back.

Doing his lessons with Meister Rumly, he was made to keep so calm. So tame. Little bits of Olken magic. Teeny tiny drips. Never anything else. Even when he broke the rules on his lonesome, cracking stones, dancing leaves, all that silliness in his bath, the spells he pinched from Arlin, he was always careful not to do too much, only a smidgin bit, in case someone noticed. In case Da felt it and came storming to find him.

But this was his free day and Gooses stolen beer was in him, and Da was a long ways away back in the City. He felt big and restless. Bold and reckless. Hed undone a magic lock. That was something, that was. Sink him sideways, he wanted to play. He wanted to show someone what he could do. And why shouldnt he? After all, this was Olken magic and he was Olken. He wasnt doing anything wrong. So he called the Gants fat silver carp, enticed them from their shadows, enticed them to the shallows, and made them leap for joy. This was Darrans story of the Sea Harvest singing. How many times had he heard that story? How often had he seen that seething harbour in his head?

Lookee! Lookee! Goose was shouting, his face flushed with beer and delight. Look at them fishes dance! Woo hoo! Woo hoo! Then he faltered, and stopped his bouncing on the riverbank. Rafe, is that you doing that?

Words were a nuisance. He didnt want to speak. So he flapped a hand at Goose, glaring, saying aye and shut up and leave me be all at once.

Gooses eyes bloomed round, like two new-minted trins. Rafe, I never knew you could do magic like that. How are you doing it? Can you show me?

He wasnt sure he could. There werent any words, he was justjust feeling it, feeling the fish in the water, feeling their fins and their tails, feeling the silver wriggle of them leaping into the warm almost-spring air. He wanted them to dance for Goose, so they were dancing. It was as simple and as terrible as that.

Why doesnt Da want this? This isthis is grand.

The silver carp leapt. The riverpond seethed. Like his bathwater in its tub it started foaming into shapes, barking dogs and prancing ponies. Barls Mountains, towering high. He could feel his magic burning, churning, the beer bubbles in his blood turning bright gold.

Rafe

What?

Goose wasnt laughing now. Hed stopped his bouncing, and his fingers clutched his knees. Rafel, maybe you should stop, he said, sounding nervous. You know youre not sposed to.

Impatient, he pulled a face. You werent sposed to steal that beer, but you did.

Thats beer, said Goose. Thats not magic. Rafe, you better stop.

Quit fratching at me, he said, hardly paying attention. Youve seen me do magic before.

Not like this, Rafe, said Goose, as the riverpond boiled silver and fat fish leapt over Barls watery Mountains. Come onyou should stopRafe

Rafel flashed his friend a grin. Tosh to you, Goose-egg. Im fine. Dont witter.

Splashing and leaping, the riverponds carp obeyed his eager summons. The magicked water sloshed around him, surging into his face. Soaking his blue cotton shirt, his close-cropped hair, running rivulets down his cheeks, like tears. But he wasnt weeping, oh no. He was laughing. Laughing.

And then he shouted as something ripped through the air. Ripped through the earth and the sludge between his toes. He sucked in a shocked breath, sucked in pondwater with it. Stale and stagnant, it drowned the sweet taste of Gooses pilfered beer. The sweeter taste of magic, burning in his blood. The leaping fish fell and didnt leap again. He felt them flee to the ponds shadows, released from his spell.

Rafe! Goose yelled. Rafe, whats wrong?

Bewildered, knocked sideways, he lost his footing and plunged to his knees. The riverponds water closed over his head. His eyes were open but he couldnt see. His mouth was open but he couldnt scream, though he wanted to. He couldnt breathe, neither. Everything felt wrong. His head was spinning. The earth and air of Lur were in pain.

DaDahelp me, Da!

He flailed his way to the riverponds surface, a silver carp called Rafel leaping for the sun.

Rafe! Rafe! Grab my hand here, Rafe!

That was Goose, with his voice like crying. He was face-down on the riverbank, his arm stretched out and his fingers reaching. He couldnt swim. He was a City Olken. Bloody useless, the lot of em. Thats what Da muttered on the days he missed the coast, when hed been cooped up in Justice Hall telling people what to do. As everything spun about behind his eyes, the pain in the earth and air a pain in him, too, Rafel plunged towards Gooses hand and anchored himself there, finger to finger.

I got you! Goose panted, helping him scramble up the grassy bank. I got you, Rafe! Dont let go! I got you!

Escaped from the stinking riverpond, Rafel crawled to the top of the bank, abandoned Gooses hand and spewed up every last mouthful of beer and water hed sucked down. He could feel Goose beside him, all fretted and cross.

I told you, Rafe. Didnt I? I told you to stop! Rafe? Rafe! Say something! Rafe! Are you drowned?

His belly emptied, his mouth foul, he rolled onto his back and squinted at the sun. His shirt and trews clung soggy to his flesh. And now that he could think straight he could feel that itching skritching under his soaked skin. Horrible. But the screaming pain from the earth and sky was fading, like a dream. That was something, any road. He needed that to go away.

Blinking, he looked at his friend. Goose was on his feet now, hovering. How can I be drownded, Goose? Aint I just puked out my guts?

Rafe! Gooses eyes were so wide they looked near to popping from his skull and his face was pasty pale, like he wanted to puke too. You shouldve stopped when I said. Didnt I say stop?

Goose was a funny one. All bold and beer stealing one minute, fretting himself ragged the next.

Pie-face to it, Goose, he said. Stop wittering at me.

I aint wittering, said Goose, offended. You nearly drowned, Rafe. What happened? Did youdid your magic do that?

Hed promised Da not to talk on this, but how could he stay silent now? Goose was here, hed seen it. He had to explain. And any road, Goose already knew his biggest secret, about him having Doranen magic.

I wont tell, Rafe, said Goose. You know I wont.

Aye, he did, cause he and Goose swore the swear. Two years ago they did that. Another secret. Hed cracked a stone and theyd cut each others hands. Mixed their blood and promised friends forever. Not magic. Not really. Just a promise, was all. A promise Goose had kept.

Besides. He was tired of this secret. It was like a hot coal in his head. Da wouldnt talk of it. Neither would Mama. Wait till youre older. But it was burning him now.

Rafe? Goose said, not wheedling, but worrited. It felt good. Family cared cause they had to. Goose cared cause he wanted to. That made a difference, even if he wasnt sure why.

So I dont care if I aint sposed to talk on this. Its Goose. Not trusting Goose is like not trusting myself.

And he needed to talk on it. He needed someone to listen when the burning got too bad. Like now. Didnt Da used to have King Gar to talk to? And didnt he have Mama? And Uncle Pellen?

How is it fair, that hes got folk to talk to and I aint sposed to say a word?

Tucking his knees close to his chest, Rafel pulled a face. It aint my magic doing it, Goose.

Then what is?

I dont know. Just theres something wrong.

What kind of wrong? said Goose, his eyes all big and round again.

Gooses Olken magic gave him a good touch for growing things. Gooses da said that was what made a meister brewer, being able to sing the hops and croon the brewing. But did that mean he could feel the earths pain, too?

You aint felt it?

I dont know, Goose said cautiously. What did you feel?

It was hard to say out loud. Made him all skritched again, hot and tickly under his skin. I aint frighted. I aint. Like the ground hurts. Like the airs crying.

I aint never felt that, Goose whispered, shocked. What is it, Rafe? Is it Doranen magic gone wrong?

He dug his fingers into the riverbank grass, tugging. Dknow. Might be.

A little bit of silence, while Goose thought on that. Grazing close by, Stag stamped at the droning flies. The river slapped itself against the bridge. A louder bang, as a floating tree branch smacked it. Yonder, along the distant City Road, a carriage-horn tooted. Its music was a faint sound blown on the breeze. The warm air sang of summer, coming.

You told your dad? Goose said at last. You should tell your dad.

He knows. Rafel tugged more grass free. Smelled the crushed green stems and the spring-damp soil. Felt his clammy shirt drying sticky on his back. But he wont say whats what.

Why not? Goose hesitated, breath hitching. Not cause he dont

No, he said quickly. Course not. My da knows everything. Justhe reckons I dont need telling.

Well, that aint fair, said loyal Goose. You can feel it. He should say.

Aye, he said, nodding. But he wont. And I cant make him tell me, Goose.

Goose sighed. Being a sprats hard. His face crumpled a bit, and his bottom lip wobbled. What do you think, Rafe? Whys the ground hurting? Whats making the air cry? I wish youd tell me. I really want to know.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Rafel swallowed. Goose sounded so frighted he was sorry hed said anything. Sorry hed made the fishes dance, and the riverpond make shapes, and told his friend his burning coal secret. I dont know. Probly its nowt, Goose. Probly Im being a girl.

Probly, said Goose, and tried to laugh. But it didnt work. He tugged some grass, too, and stared down the sloping riverbank to where Stag and his pony stood in the meadow side by side, rump to nose, dozing and swishing each others biting flies.

Just like us. Best friends.

Rafe Goose whispered. Still staring someplace else. What you felt. Its real, isnt it?

He nodded. Aye.

Andand it means Lurs in trouble?

For the first time ever, he was sorry he could feel things. I aint sure, Goose. Probly.

You frighted? said Goose, letting his tugged grass slip through his fingers.

No!

Goose rubbed his eyes. Me too.

I aint! he insisted, and banged a fist on his knee. Aint nowt to be frighted on. My da, hell fix it. Thats what he does.

I could help, said Goose, almost a whisper. I could try feeling it. If you want, Rafe. Then we could

Rafel scrambled to his feet. No, Goose. Dont you dare. You might do yourself a mischief.

You dont have to say that, said Goose, glaring up at him. You dont have to be like that. I know I cant crack stones, like you can, or make fish jump into the air just by thinking. But Ive got magic, Rafe. I can do things. I can

No! he said again. Sink me, if I get Goose hurt I told you, Goose. It feels bad. Youd hate it. I hate it. I wish But he didnt want to say that. You might feel it one day, Goose. By chance. When youre doing your own magics. But dont you go looking for it. Reckon thatd get us both walloped, if my da or yours found out.

Goose sighed. He almost always gave in when they fratched. Dont bite, Rafe. I only wanted to help.

I know. Then he frowned. Goose, if you want to help, swear you wont tell anyone about this. Not ever.

I swear, said Goose. But are you going to tell your parents?

I have to, he said, nodding. I promised. Onlynot all of it. I wont tell them you know. Thats got to be our secret.

Our secret, said Goose, all solemn. I swear.

Relieved, he flopped himself back onto the riverbank. And I swear Ill never tell about the beer.

Fizzy with relief, they grinned at each other.

Hey, said Goose, and again dug his fingers inside his leather jerkin. Pulled out the lumpily folded parchment hed been safekeeping. Want this back?

Tollins adventures! Hed clean forgotten, what with the earth crying out and nearly getting himself drownded. Thanks.

What is it? said Goose with a wicked snicker. A love letter from Charis?

Ever since he once saw Uncle Pellens Charis making google-eyes at him, Goose thought it was funny to niggle on it. Rafel used his Doranen magic to push his friend flat on his back.

Take that! No. It aint.

Goose howled in protest, kicking at the sky. Then he sat up. So what is it?

Finished unfolding the parchment, he laid it flat on the grass and smoothed out its wrinkles, gently. There was probly Doranen magic to make it good as new, but he didnt know it. He would one day, though. One day hed know it all.

He looked up. Its the story of what Tollin and the others found when they crossed over the mountains.

Gooses mouth dropped open. It never is!

Is too.

Where did you get it? Goose breathed.

He almost told. Almost. The boasting words were tickling the tip of his tongue. But then he swallowed them. Best I dont tell you, Goose, he said, his sly smile dying. Not cause I dont trust you! he added quickly, as Gooses face fell. Its just best you dont know.

Gooses eyes opened so wide he looked like a string-puppet. Oh, Rafel. What did you do? He swallowed. Something Doranen?

He stared at the uncrumpled parchment spread on the grass, feeling the fizzy triumph of breaking Das lock. Feeling the stir behind his eyes where his Doranen magic lived. He wanted to tell Goose so bad

Cept I cant. Aint nobody meant to know about that trunk and whats in it. Thats Das secret. It aint mine to tell.

It doesnt matter, he said. What counts is I found the parchment. And Ill read it to you, only

Rafel, said Goose solemnly, I wont never, ever tell. Not ever. Not even if Arlin Garrick pokes me full of pins.

He scowled. Arlin Garrick was the kind of Doranen whod do worse than poke pins if he thought he could get away with it. You better not, Goose. This has to be just ours.

It will be! said Goose. Catch me telling Arlin Garrick anything.

True. They might go to the same City school, him and Goose and Arlin Garrick and the other Doranen boys, but that didnt mean nowt. Didnt mean they had to like each other. Which is good. Cause we dont. Hed never pinch spells from a boy he liked.

So whats it say? said Goose eagerly, nudging the parchment. Start reading. And when youre done, we can be explorers!

Being explorers was one of their favourite games. You still want to do that? he said, leaving the parchment where it was. When youre growed up? Aint you going to be a brewer, like your da?

No law says I cant be both, said Goose. Then he grinned. When Im growed up Ill brew the best beer and ale in Lur and take it over the mountains to sell. Ill be the richest brewer in Lur, I will. No, Ill be the richest Olken in Lur. The richest man in Lur. Thatll be me. Ill be so rich, that Arlin Garrick, hell have to bow when I ride by.

Ha! he said. Only way youll get Arlin Garrick to bend in the middle is if you kick him in the chestnuts.

Gooses grin got wider. I could do that, too. Wearing boots made of solid gold.

The thought was so naughty they crowed and rolled around on the grass for a bit. Their amusement startled the ponies, and that made them laugh even harder. But the laughter dribbled dry eventually, until it was just them sprawling silent under the warm sun. Slowly but surely, the fear of what hed felt faded.

So go on, then, said Goose, breaking the hush. Read it. Cause I want to know what really happened to Tollin and the others. I want to know why most likely I never will get to sell my beer and ale on the other side of the mountains.

His clothes gently steaming, his damp hair full of grass, Rafel reached for the stolen parchment. Held it up between his face and the sky, so he wasnt squinting into the sun.

And started reading.

Tired of waiting for the kettle to boil a second time, Pellen Orrick was sorely tempted to ask Asher if hed stir the water along. Just a bit. But he refrained, because asking Asher for a frivolous use of his magic would do nothing to sweeten his friends sour mood. Three hours this morning, theyd spent, he and Asher and Dathne, thrashing through the dangers that may or may not lie in wait for the kingdom, reaching no firm conclusions or decisions, certain of only one thing: that should the worst come to pass then surely every man, woman and child in LurDoranen as well as Olkenwould look to Asher of Restharven for rescue.

And is he sour because he resents the assumption or because he knows he has no hope of saving us?

Hed not asked the question, though it did crowd his thoughts. He was ashamed of himself for thinking it. Ashamed that despite knowing what he knew, knowing the sacrifices Asher had already made, he could even consider asking for more. And perhaps, if he only had himself to worry about, he wouldnt be ready to ask. Wouldnt have the thought in his head at all.

But Im a father now, and that makes the difference. Theres nothing I wont do to see Charis kept safe.

Once hed believed his devotion to Dorana City, and to Lur, was the fiercest thing he would ever feel. And now he knew that devotion was water-weak compared with the fury that rose in him at the thought of harm coming to his only child.

The kettle boiled, at last. But as he poured the steaming water into the second teapot, refreshments for his newly arrived guests, he heard Asher suck in a sharp, pained breathand looked up.

What? Asher, whats amiss?

Stood by the kitchen window, brooding through the open curtains at Ibbys run-to-seed garden, Asher shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose between tight thumb and forefinger. A grunt of discomfort escaped him, and he hunched over a little as though tormented by a belly-gripe.

Pellen put down the kettle. Asher, are you sick? Should I call for

Asher, said Dathne, hurrying into the kitchen from the parlour, where shed been talking with those four members of the old Olken Circle whod travelled to Dorana circumspect to meet with them. Did you feel that?

Asher nodded, his eyes slitted against whatever ailed him. Aye. Nasty.

We all felt it, said Dathne. Asher

Pellen raised a hand. I didnt feel a thing. Are you talking about

Aye, said Asher. What I told you in the stable yard. That wrongness in the earth. Its back.

Oh.

Sometimes, over the years, as he watched his fellow-Olken discover their long-buried powers, watched them revel in Olken magic, hed felt a pang that their joy was denied him. Not often. Just sometimes. But now, with Asher and Dathne so clearly distressed, he found himself grateful that magic, for him, was little more than a fizzle. Hed lived for years without it quite happily. He didnt need it to make him a whole man.

Dathne gnawed at her bottom lip. Rafel, Asher. Do you think he

Probly, said Asher. Hes felt it othertimes. Well ask him at supper.

He blinked in surprise. Rafel could feel whatever was going on, too? Asher had kept that quiet. But Rafe was just a boy, barely tutored in magic. And if he could feel it

Chariss night-terrors. What if Im wrong? What if its not Ibby shes missing after all? What if

With an effort he strangled his leaping imagination. If he wasnt careful hed smother his daughter. Little ones had bad dreams. No need to alarm himself into conniptions.

At supper? said Dathne. Id rather ask him now. Fretting, she wrapped her arms about her narrow ribs. But weve let him romp off on his pony for the day, without a care in the world. I hope hes all right. If this is going to keep happening, if we cant know when or where this feeling will strike, he might not be safe. Asher

Hush, said Asher, and pulled her to him. Cant keep Rafe cooped up in the Tower, Dath. Cant stop him racin about the countryside with his friends. Hes a boy. Hes got to be a boy.

She tugged free of his embrace. But hes not just a boy, is he? Not an ordinary boy, at any rate.

He is for now, said Asher, insistent. He is so long as we dont start treatin him different.

He is different, Asher! Dathne retorted. And you not wanting it to be so doesnt change a thing.

Ashers face darkened. Hes only different if we let him be, Dath. Only if we think on him that way. And I wont do it. I aint about to ruin his spratlin days with fuss and malarkey and makin him feel that he aint like his friends. Pushing him to do magic that he aint ready for. That he dont need.

A reluctant eavesdropper, Pellen looked away. There was such pain in Ashers voice. Nothing to do with whatever trouble threatened Lur, and everything to do with being Rafels father. Pain in Dathne too, and fear. So much of it theyd forgotten where they were. That he was listening. But what did they mean about their son being different? This was the first hed heard of it

His guardsman curiosity reprehensibly piqued, he cleared his throat. Ahfriends

Startled out of acrimony, they stared at him. Then they exchanged mutely horrified looks. Asher, his discomfited dismay forgotten, cleared his throat.

Pellen

And suddenly he was ashamed again. He had no right to expect confidences. After all, hed not told them about Charis, had he? Never mind, he said. No explanations needed. Family business is family business.

It aint that we dont trust you, said Asher, suddenly awkward. You know better than that. Its complicated, is all.

But we will explain, Dathne added. We never meant to keep it from you forever. As Asher saysits complicated.

Their assurances warmed him. In the wrenching aftermath of Ibbys loss, ill-equipped to deal with grief and a baby and every grand dream smashed to jagged pieces, he knew hed been in danger of foundering completely. Dathne and Asher had eased him. Sheltered him. Saved him, in truth, from too much strong drink and silence.

He shrugged. When youre ready. Lets leap one hurdle at a time, eh? Im not as spry as I used to be.

Hed long since come to terms with the loss of his leg. But Asher never had, and seeing him wince at the joke was a jabbing reminder of that. Fool.

So, what you both just felt, he said hastily, with a glance towards the parlour. You and those Circle folk in there. Youre sure its more of the same trouble?

Yes, said Dathne, nodding. And whatever it is, I fear its getting worse.

But why is it happening at all? Thats the question weve yet to answer.

You want to hold the rest of our meetin in here? said Asher. Only I dont reckon this kitchen of yours be big enough for us and them Circle folk too, Meister Mayor.

Youre right, its not, he said. So lets go through to the parlour and get started. I want this problem nipped in the bud. Ive enough on my mayoral plate as it is. I dont need more headaches.

You might not need em, but youve got em, I reckon, said Asher. Now, you done makin that tea like an ole besom?

He was deeply worried, but still he had to smile. In a life full of upheaval one star remained constant: Asher was Asher, and would surely be himself without fear or favour until the end of his days.

Besom yourself, he retorted mildly. I could use another pair of hands.

He and Asher carried the brewed tea into the parlour, with Dathne bringing the tray of cups, milk, sugar and biscuits. They might well be here to discuss death and destruction but there was no reason to do it parched, or on an empty stomach.

The four summoned former Circle members sat eggshell-anxiousin his parlour. Two women and two men, only one of them younger than fifty, and all of them schooled in the mysteries of Olken magic. Sensitive, as Asher and Dathne and now, it seemed, Rafeland maybe Chariswere sensitive to the subtle shiftings beneath Lurs placid, well-ordered surface.

You know I cant feel this trouble, he said, helping Dathne to hand round steaming cups of tea, but I dont doubt its real. What we must decide, here and now, is whats to be done about it.

If anything can be done, said Polly Marsh from Wynford, on the far side of the Saffron Hills. Plump as an apple puff, surprisingly dressed in baggy trews and even baggier shirt, with her salty dark hair clipped boyish short, she stirred three spoonfuls of sugar into her tea. For it seems to me were at the mercy of chance. We had no warning that the earth was troubled. And theres no hint of whats causing it. Were in the dark.

Pollys right, said the man beside her on the couch. Beale Lafton, whod travelled the furthest to be here. All the way from Tamwold, hed come, right close to the coast, near Salting Town. His hair and beard were silvered through, his face as crumpled as an old linen kerchief. But despite his great age his voice was energetic, his manner brisk. Whatevers stirring in this kingdom now, I fear were powerless to stop it.

Nonsense, snapped Dathne, and dropped onto a footstool. What kind of thinking is that, Beale?

Beale eyed her narrowly from beneath extravagantly bushy brows. The kind that comes from reading the earth for more than sixty years, young lady.

I dont disagree this isuncomfortable, Beale, Dathne said, colour washing her sharp cheeks. But to call ourselves powerless? Thats giving up before weve even started.

And what would you have us do, Dathne? Jinny of Hooten Creek asked softly, her blind, gentle eyes darting side to side. Shed lost her sight during the battle with Morg, when the Circles binding link with Veira was severed. We Olken might have our magic restored to us, but its no more than it ever was. We cant bully nature. We cant dominate with our powers, like the Doranen.

Pellen, content to stand by the parlours cold fireplace and observe, watched Dathne flick a glance at Asher. He was perched on the edge of the rooms deepest windowsill, arms broodingly folded, his rough-hewn face set in that familiar, defensive scowl.

I know that, Jinny, Dathne said. Im not suggesting we try.

Then why send for us? demanded Fernel Pintte, quarrelsome. Youngest of the four, somewhere in his thirties, and smoothly handsome. Nothing gentle about him, his manner was impatient and curt. We dropped our lives and came running to you, Dathne, out of respect for who you once were. But

Who she still is, said Asher, stirring. Jervales Heir. Mind your tone there, Fernel. Aint got much patience with them as disrespect my wife.

Fernel put his cup down on the wooden arm of his chair. Some of his easy belligerence faded, and a wary look crept into his eyes. Theres no disrespect here, Asher. Im puzzled. He glanced around at the other Circle members. Were all puzzled. And I think were owed an explanation for why weve been summoned.

Youre here to tell us what, if anything, you feel, said Dathne. And when you started feeling it. Youre here so we can work our way through what these stirrings mean, and how we can protect Lur if indeed it is in danger again so soon after Morg.

Knowing that Asher and Dathne depended on his silent scrutiny, Pellen kept watching closely. Saw that dreaded name stab the Circle members. They breathed deeply, quivering, and briefly looked away.

Of all the Circle thats left now, Dathne added, you four are the strongest. You have the keenest senses, the sharpest intuitions. Between us, you four and me and Asher, Im certain we can unravel this mystery.

And if we do unravel it? said Polly, hands clasped to hide their trembling. What then? Jinnys right. We cant forge new chains for Lur.

Not without making bargains with the Doranen, added Fernel. Is that what youre thinking, Dathne? That we dance that sorry dance again?

That sorry dance saved us from Morg and his domination, said Dathne, annoyed. Remember?

What I remember is living twenty years of my life in terror of being discovered, Fernel retorted. His narrow face pinched cold, and he reached for his tea-cup again as though he needed to hold on to something warm. I remember twenty years of secrets and lies, of holding my breath every time I crossed paths with a Doranen, certain theyd sense the magic in me and cry traitor. I remember hearing of Timon Spakes execution and weeping at the thought his death could be mine.

On the outskirts, on the windowsill, Asher stirred. Timon Spakes dead and buried. You aint here to talk on him.

Pellen, with his own memories, met Ashers bleak gaze. Saw in his friends face a reflection of his own sickness, his own memories, never quite overcome or forgotten.

We were all of us afraid, Fernel, said Polly, and reached over to the armchair to pat his white-knuckled hand. But it does no good to dwell. The bad times are behind us. She sighed. At least, those bad times are.

Dathne, on the low footstool, rested her elbows on her knees and propped her chin in her hands. Fernel, I dont know how to answer you. It could be that whatever is wrong can only be put right by the Olken and the Doranen melding their magics again. I hope thats not so. I want to look forward, not back. You think I cant see how fraught with dangers such a choice would be?

Do they know? said Beale. About these shiftings?

Dathne shook her head. Im sure they dont. Weve said nothing to the Doranen on the General Council. Or the Mage Council. Nothing to any Doranen we know. And nothing has been said to us. But I think its only a matter of time before they realiseor learnthat somethings brewing. Our two peoples may still live mostly separate lives, but if what were feeling grows any stronger

If it begins to reveal itself, you mean? said blind Jinny. If something odd starts to happen with thethe weather?

And with that one word, all eyes turned to Asher.

Aint no call to think itll come to that, he said flatly. Ten years without WeatherWorking weve had, aint we, and the rains come as needful. Snow and ice in winter, enough for the icewine vineyards and pond skating, but not so much folk find emselves buried. Theres food aplenty, no threat of famine. I dont reckon theres cause to start thinkin thatll change.

He sounded confident but Pellen saw something flicker between him and Dathne. Some misgiving, unshared. He knew them too well. His belly tightened, and his throat.

Lie to them if you must, but youll not lie to me. When were done with these four the three of us will keep talking.

Ashers right, said Dathne, her chin lifted in the way that dared anyone to contradict. This isnt about the weather. Lets not fright ourselves for no reason.

Then what is it about? said Jinny. Her blinded brown eyes were wide open, as though she could see things the rest of them were denied. What is causing the earths disquiet?

And are we going to tell the Doranen? Fernel added. Before the earth does the telling for us, and were accused of dreadful things?

Like thunder on the horizon, the memory of fear teased the air. Ten years in the open wasnt a long time, not after six hard centuries of secrecy.

It aint your concern, Fernel, what theyre told and when, said Asher. Thats for me and Pellen to decide, seeing as how hes Mayor of Dorana and we both be on the Mage Council.

Not my concern? Fernel laughed, unpleasant. Dont be a fool, Asher. Its every Olkens concern. Until the day comes when the last Doranen leaves our land weve got to live with them. Weve got to live with their magic, which overpowered ours once and easily could again.

No, it cant, said Dathne. There are laws, Fernel, binding laws that keep us safe. And doesnt Asher preside over Justice Hall, to make certain?

I feel Fernels not so misguided, to worry, said Beale, gnarled fingers kneading at the arm of his couch. Its their own goodwill that keeps the Doranen bound to decency, not any fear of reprisals from us. They know we have none. Nor have we any guarantee that their decency will last.

You bloody have, yknow, said Asher. You got me. Reckon Ill sit idle if a Doranen tries any funny business on one of us? Took care of that bloody Ain Freidin, didnt I? Trust me, I aint forgot what I learned killin Morg. And Ill use it quick as a flys fart if any Doranen breaks them laws we all agreed to.

And if they decide that us keeping secrets from them is a breach of law? countered Polly. What then?

Aint said we will keep it secret, Polly, said Asher, almost snapping. But I dont see any use flappin our lips till we know what we be flappin about. Do you?

Pollys round cheeks tinted deep pink. Im sure theres no need to be rude, Asher.

He threw up his hands. I aint rude. Why do folk always bleat that Im rude? Im just sayin

Perhaps a smidgin forcefully, said Pellen, swallowing a bark of laughter. Ashers lack of tact and his genuine bewilderment never failed to amuse. Though I think the point is fair. He nodded at Polly, letting her see his sympathy. I understand your concern, madam, but after ten years as Doranas mayor, rubbing shoulders with the Doranen every day, I can promise you theyll not take kindly to us talking about any kind of magical trouble without proof or a reasonable explanation.

They can hardly bring themselves to admit that what we have and do is magic, said Dathne sourly. Then she shrugged. I suppose its not surprising. Compared to them were glowing coals to their bonfires.

Fernel snorted. Were subtle. Theyre brash. Its not the same thing. Shame on you, Dathne, for disparaging your own people.

She aint disparagin anyone, said Asher, a dangerous edge to his voice. Fernel, what be your problem? Eh? Mayhap you and I should step outside and talk on it private, like.

Youll do nothing of the sort! said Dathne, leaping to her feet. I dont need you thumping Fernel or anyone else on my behalf. Fernel

I speak my mind, Fernel retorted. Its not my fault if you dont care for what I

Please, lets not fight, said Jinny, a little breathless with distress. Weve gathered here to talk of Lurs troubles, not start new battles amongst ourselves.

Pellen cleared his throat. Shes right. Would you have me pull out my old Captains uniform and play City Guard beneath my own roof? Asher?

No, Asher muttered.

No, said Fernel, his jaw tight with temper.

Then leave be, he said firmly. Both of you. Weve plenty to talk about without reopening old wounds, be they Timon Spakes death or what life was like as a Circle member or what the Doranen did hundreds of years before we were born. None of that matters. All that matters is now.

Asher and Fernal looked at each other, tomcat unfriendly, but held their tongues.

Letting out a sharp breath, Dathne dropped again to her footstool then nodded at Polly. You go first. Tell us what youve been feeling in the earth.

Taken aback, Polly shifted a little beside Beale, plump fingers fluttering to the pale pink stone hung on a chain about her neck. I dont know, she said, almost whispering. Its hard to explain. Then she half-laughed, half-sighed. Youll think Im just a foolish old woman.

No, we wont, said Dathne, leaning forward. I asked you here to share your impressions, Polly. She swept her sharp gaze across everyones face. Nobody will mock you, no matter what you say.

Pollys fingers tightened on her pink stone pendant. The only way I can describe it is to say it feels to me as though the flowers are crying.

The flowers? said Fernel. Oh come now, Polly. How can flowers

I dont know! Polly cried, turning on him. I told you it would sound silly. But Im a gardener, growing things is my gift, and I tell you that when Im planting seeds or tending bulbs, when Im pruning or weeding or watering, Im one with the earth and the flowers are crying!

Beale took her hand and gave it a small, reassuring shake. Its all right, Polly. We believe you.

What about you, Beale? said Dathne. What have you been feeling?

The old man sat silent for a time, holding Pollys hand. Then he stirred, and let his eyelids droop half-closed. When the Wall fell, he said, his voice a hairsbreadth from trembling, it was a dreadful shock. The air itself was torn and bleeding. The earth was bleeding, in my heart. But it healed. In time, it came to feel whole again. But lately lately

What? Dathne whispered. Beale, please. The truth now, no matter how difficult.

Beale opened his eyes. They were red-rimmed with unshed tears. This will sound foolish and fanciful, just like Polly. But I imagine were living inside an hourglass, Dathne. The sand is running out its running out and I dont know why. I only know that when it does run outmay Jervale have mercy on this poor kingdom of ours.

Pellen shifted his gaze to Asher, and what he saw in his friends face nearly stilled his heart. He knows. He knows what Beales talking about. For a moment he was so angry it felt like he was breathing fire. Asher, sensing it, looked at him and then looked away. Shadowed swiftly in his eyes, a shamefaced regret.

Dathne, caught up with Beale, hadnt noticed. Please, Beale, dont fratch yourself, she said. Whatever it means, Im sure well be all right.

The old man nodded. Yes. Yes. He managed a painful smile. With the Innocent Mage to fight our battle, Ive no doubt well prevail.

If the Innocent Mage agreed with him, he wasnt saying so. Ashers scowling face was shuttered tight. Unfathomable to anyone who didnt know him. But Pellen, who knew him so well, who had seen him in every extremity: rage and agony and despair and blinding grief, knew that what he saw now was fear.

Damn you, Asher. What do you know?

CHAPTER EIGHT

Your turn, Jinny, said Dathne. Sweet, fragile Jinny of Hooten Creek sighed, fingers pressing against her pale lips. They all looked at her, expectant. It was held that those whod lost their sight gained in other ways. Would she prove it now?

Jinny, said Asher. It aint easy to talk on, I know, but cant one of us hide from this, much as we want to.

Shoulders slumping, Jinny pinned her hands between her knees. I feel sick with nerves, all the time. As though Im waiting for bad news. As though a messenger is bringing it, and hes riding just out of sight. Even when the sun feels hot on my face, underneath the heat theres a bitter cold. Dread. Her next breath caught in her throat. Thats what it is. I feel dread.

Dread, said Fernel. His scorn couldve etched glass. Crying flowers. Hourglasses. Listen to yourselves. If Veira were here shed slap the three of you silly. And shed slap you too, Dathne, and you, Asher, for encouraging them. The explanation for this unease is obvious, if only youd wake up from your dream.

And what dream would that be, Fernel? said Asher. Instead of belligerent, dangerously polite. Pellen saw Dathne brace herself, and felt his own muscles tense.

Careful now, careful. Lets all of us keep our heads.

But either Fernel Pintte didnt know Asher well enough to take heedor he didnt care. The dream that tells you we can keep walking the road were on without consequence. His hostile glare swept all their faces. The earth is off-kilter. Doranen magic has been poisoning Lur for centuries. I fear our home is succumbing at last. I fear that if we dont put an end to the Doranen taint, our land will sicken until it dies.

What do you mean, put an end to the Doranen taint, said Dathne, staring at him. They live here, Fernel.

Only because weve not sent them away, Fernel retorted. When the Wall was destroyed we should have told them to leave. Lur is not their home. Its our home, and they stole it. When the Wall was destroyed we should have taken it back.

Dathne was shaking her head. And sent the Doranen where? Across the mountains? Thousands of them? All the mothers, with their babies? Children scarcely old enough to walk? The elderly and infirm too? Fernel, are you mad?

They came here over the mountains, said Fernel, his face red now. Ugly. They couldve left the same way. Or they couldve taken boats and sailed off. Just so long as they left and never came back.

Aint no sailin beyond Dragonteeth Reef, said Asher, watching the man carefully. Every sprat in Lur knows that. Them sinkholes and whirlpools the dyin Weather Magic left behind wont let any sized boat through to open water. Not even a dinghy. Its suicide to try. We got enough dead fools buried in fishing village graveyards to prove that even to you, I reckon.

I dont care! said Fernel, his teeth bared, his eyes narrowed to slits. Let them drown, every one. Ill not lose a wink of sleep. Lur will never be clean until its free of the Doranen.

Dathne pushed to her feet. I dont believe what Im hearing, she said, sounding dazed. How long has your hatred been festering, Fernel? Did Veira know you felt like this?

No, Fernel snapped. I never told her. Why would I? What business was it of hers? My duty was to safeguard Lur, and you, and the Circle, and at the risk of my own life thats what I did. You expect me to apologise for hating the interlopers who made that life a misery? Who forced me to live a lie? Who to this day sneer at me, because Im not one of them?

Dathne threw up her hands, as Polly and Beale stared at the man and blind Jinny kneaded her fingers in her lap. Fernel, Fernel, theres nobody sneering at you!

Course there is, Dath, said Asher, and slid off the windowsill. We got scores of Conroyd Jarralts in Lur. Rodyn Garrick and his cronies, for starters. Folk born blond and magical and better than everyone else. Leastways, that be what they reckon. Now you and me might reckon theyre wrong, but it dont matter. Its only thoughts. And folks can think what they like. Fernel here, he can think we ought to toss every last Doranen over the mountains or into the ocean. I wont do it. And I wont let him do it, neither. But he can think on it all he likes, if thats what makes him happy.

Fernel stood, hands fisted at his sides. Im not alone, you know. Im not the only Olken who thinks its high time Lur was returned to its rightful owners. With the Wall destroyed, all that keeps the Doranen here is greed, and their habit of believing that what is ours belongs to them.

Fernel, there is nothing for the Doranen beyond those mountains! said Dathne. You know what Tollins expedition found. Blight. Corruption. Lingering death. Wed be no better than murderers if we threw them into that!

That was years ago, said Fernel. Thanks to our cowardly General Council, we dont know whats there now. For all we know those lands have grown green and fertile these past few years, Dathne. For all we know Tollin lied. Got cold feet and lied. Or killed those men with incompetence, then brought back a nonsense tale to cover it up!

Pellen had known and liked Ryn Tollin. And then sickened himself and the other survivors to death, I suppose, to be certain no-one doubted their story? Shame on you, Pintte, for slandering men who cant defend themselves.

As Fernel Pintte sneered, Dathne turned to Asher. Hes mad, she said, helplessly. I had no idea. I doubt Veira knew, or she never wouldve have brought him into the Circle. Hes an insult to her memory.

Asher shook his head. Dath

Ignoring him, Dathne rounded on Polly and Beale. Did you know? Have you heard any of thisthis vile spewing before?

I knew he had no love for the Doranen, said Beale heavily, after a moment. But then neither do I.

Polly?

Plump Polly Marsh fingered her pendant, looking away. Ive nothing against them personally, she murmured. Some of them are quite nice. I suppose.

Despairing, Dathne turned again. Jinny? Jinny, tell me you dont agree with Fernel. Please.

Not agree, no, said Jinny, reluctantly. Though I understand his anger.

But you two agree with him? Dathne demanded, staring again at Beale and Polly. You think the Doranen are a taint? A poison to Lur?

Not quite so far as that, perhaps, said Polly, blushing. But they did take what was ours, Dathne.

They saved us from Morg! Dathne retorted. The best way they knew how. It might not have been a perfect solution but we never suffered. We prospered.

Tell that to Timon Spake, spat Fernel. And Maura Shay, murdered before him. As for Morg, the Doranen created him. It was their duty to save us from him and then leave us alone!

Oh, this is ridiculous, said Dathne. Youre ridiculous. You need the help of a good pother, Fernel. Even if youre right about Barl and the first Doranen who came here, the Doranen living in Lur today are innocent of any crimes they committed. Our Doranen didnt ask to be born here any more than we did. Fratching ourselves over what happened six hundred years ago changes nothing, you fool. All we can do is worry about now. And now we have a new challenge before us; and if we dont meet it, more Olkenand Doranenmight well die.

Fernel folded his arms. Ive told you what the problem is, he said curtly. And Ive told you what must be done to fix it. If you choose to disregard my advice, well, I cant stop you. But I dont have to stay here and listen to you, either.

Alarmed, Dathne looked at Asher then back at Fernel. What are you going to do, Fernel? Forswear your Circle oath and speak of whats been discussed here?

Fernel raised one scornful eyebrow. What Circle oath? The Circles broken, Dathne. You broke it yourself eight years ago, remember? You said it was no longer needed. If you recall, I disagreed with your decision. But you knew best. You always know best, dont you? Youre an arrogant one, Dathne. In fact, youre a lot like a Doranen. Perhaps thats why you champion their cause. You always thought being Jervales Heir made you better than the rest of us.

Dathne took a step back, as though hed struck her. What? I neverFernel, thats not true.

Asher cleared his throat. Well, he said, considering. Its a bit true, Dath. Bossy you were back then, and bossy you are now. Aint much changed, that road. Still. You got a point. He nodded at Fernel. Broken Circle or not, Meister Pintte, you swore blind youd do everything in your power to protect Lur. I reckon once an oath like thats made you dont get to take it back.

So Im answerable to you now? Fernel demanded. Is that it?

Ashers smile was deceptively genial. I spose you could look at it that way. I dont. But you could.

Id rather not, said Fernel Pintte, his lip curled in another sneer. Id rather leave. So if youll excuse me

Sickened, Pellen looked at Asher. Hed restrain the hateful fool if he had to, find some pretext or other that would see him cooling his heels in the City Guardhouse for a day or so. After all those years a captain, and his rule book not forgotten, he could trump up something or other that would give them a moment to breathe.

I might well hate myself, but Id do it. Weve lost too much already to throw the rest away.

Fernel Pintte was almost at the parlour door. Asher, looking after him, released an irritated sigh. Pointed a finger and said, very softly, Drego.

Fernel Pintte froze in mid-stride, turned stone-still with one word.

As Beale and Polly cried out a protest, and blind Jinny gasped, and Dathne dropped back to the footstool, pale with despair and staring at the carpet, Asher wandered over to Fernel and frowned into the mans rigid face.

There now, see? he said, sounding mildly peeved. But Pellen, who knew him, could hear the killing fury beneath the words. You made me use magic on you, Fernel. I aint fond of usin magic on folk. It makes me feel manky. And I dont like feelin manky. So just you lissen a bit while I tell you whats what.

Dathne looked up. Asher

He lifted a finger at her, never taking his cold gaze from Fernel Pinttes wide, unblinking eyes. I meant what I said, before. You can think what you like. I aint about to stop you. You be a free man, in a free land. But if I hear you rousin up other folk to hate, Fernel? If I hear you agitatin of an evening down your local alehouse, how Lurd be better off if all them pesky Doranen got emselves tossed over the mountains or beyond Dragonteeth Reef? And you know I will hear, Fernel. You know I hear everythin, sooner or later. Well, if I hear owt of that I reckon I might be a bit fratched. Reckon I might have to come pay you a visit. He leaned close. Fernel? You dont want me payin you a visit. You dont want me gettin riled. The last man who got me riled were Morg. Didnt end well for him. Reckon you might not want to make his mistake.

Pellen swallowed, feeling ice slide through his veins. The cheerful parlour crackled with menace.

Vardo, said Asher, and took a step back.

Sickly white and slicked with sweat, Fernel Pintte stared at Asher in silence. Tried to speak. Could only stutter.

Well? said Asher. What you waitin for? Off you go.

Fernel Pintte ran.

* * *

Hes not a bad fellow, really, said Beale at last, breaking the taut silence. He just takes things to heart. Always has.

Pellen exchanged a raised-eyebrow look with Asher, then turned to the old man. How well do you know him?

Beale sighed. Well enough to know hes mostly talk and very little action.

And were to take your word on that, are we? Dathne said dully. Were to trust him? After what hes said?

Fernel only said what some of us think, Polly snapped. Perhaps if you spent less time in the City and more time talking to regular Olken youd not be so surprised.

And whats that supposed to mean? said Dathne, stung.

It means were shocked and upset, Jinny said, before Polly could answer. Please, we didnt gather here to talk of Fernels obsession with the Olken peoples lost heritage. Our concerns are far greater than that. What are we to do about thisthis wrongness in the earth? The imbalance we feel must be put right. I fear a calamity for everyone in Lur if we dont.

You assume it can be put right, Jinny, said Beale, and looked at Asher. Can it? Or are we just spitting in the wind?

I dont know, said Asher, shrugging. Reckon all I aimed for in meetin you here was to make sure I aint been imaginin things. Didnt reckon youd expect me to snap mfingers and fix whatevers the matter this time. He snorted. Like magic.

It pleases you to be snide? said Beale, his lined face lining deeper with displeasure. When this poor land of ours is groaning in pain, you think

He doesnt mean it like that, Beale, said Dathne quickly. Hes just being Asher. Of course hes worried about

Dont reckon I need you speakin up for me, Dath, said Asher, frowning again. Reckon Im growed enough to speak for mself. Any road, ole Beale heres just fratchin at me cause hes scared spitless we got more trouble.

And why wouldnt I be afraid? Beale demanded. When you can make light of whats happening? Our lives were built on faith in you. On believing that youd save this kingdom from destruction. Fernel might be misguided, but he wasnt entirely wrong. A lot of good people gave up any hope of true peace, true happiness, so you might fulfill your destined purpose. Years and years of sacrifice, Asher. Years that did not leave us untouched.

Years I never bloody asked you for! Asher spat at the old man. So dont you go throwin em in my face! Sink me bloody sideways, you think I wanted any of this? I had a life! I had plans! But you and your bloody Circle, that ole besom Veira, you had other plans. And I did what you wanted. I saved the bloody kingdom. Killed my best friend to do it, too. So dont you sit there on your skinny ole arse waggin your finger at me! Not when you be expectin me to save Lur again!

Silence, ragged and raw. Pellen, heartsick, watched as Asher turned his back on the room, his breathing harsh. Dathne pressed her fingertips to her closed eyes, trying to contain tears. Polly, not trying, took a kerchief from her purse. Blind Jinny smoothed her green wool skirt over and over her knees. Then, neatly, precisely, she folded her hands in her lap.

Youve yet to tell us what youve felt, Asher, she said softly. Like it or not, you are the Innocent Mage. The most powerful Olken magician in Lur. What has the earth been whispering to you?

Asher hesitated, then turned round. Shoved his hands in his pockets, his face settling into that familiar, belligerent scowl. Pellen looked from him to Dathne. Her lips were pressed tight, her arms folding as though to contain some bitter pain within her belly. He felt a fresh wave of unease flood through him.

Whatever they know, its very, very bad. I wonder if Im strong enough for the truth?

Asher? said Beale. Awkward with age he levered himself to his feet. In his chaotically lined face, a dawning suspicion. Thats a fair question. Why dont you answer it? What do you feel?

Im thinkin, said Asher, his voice still edged. Some things aint easy to put into words, Beale. I aint no Fernel bloody Pintte. I aint never had the slickest of tongues.

What about you, Dathne? said Polly. Tears dried, her plump, soft sorrow had hardened into a brittle wariness. As Jervales Heir you were gifted with visions. What have they shown you? What do you believe is happening in Lur?

Ive had no visions since before Morg was killed, said Dathne. Im Jervales Heir no longer. Not in that sense. Like you Im an Olken mage with ties to the land. But I never had the greatest reading of it. All I know is what you all know, that Lur has been peacefully sleeping for the last ten years and now it stirs to waking.

Waking to what? Jinny whispered. I thought the fear and destruction of the Final Days were behind us. Was I wrong? Is the worst yet to come?

Asher, said Beale. Slick or not, its time you wagged that tongue of yours. When you needed the Circle, the Circle was there for you. Some of us, like Jinny here, like poor Veira and her kinsman, Rafel, and your friend Matthias, paid a dreadful price for their help. Heres your chance to repay that debt. Tell us what you know. Tell us what you think you know and what your intentions are. Honour the sacrifices we made for you.

Asher flinched as though Beale had struck him. No outburst of anger this time, no flood of furious words. Dathne choked out a small cry of protest, seeing the pain that lit up Ashers eyes like lightning in an inky sky.

You want me to say any ole thing? he said, holding Beales accusing stare. Say whatll ease you, be it honest or not?

Of course not! cried Polly, and pushed herself to stand close-pressed beside Beale. What we want is your respect. You asked us to come here and we came, without question or care for how inconvenient its been. You asked us to tell you what weve felt, and we told you. Now its your turn.

And if you wont tell us, said Jinny quietly, as she too found her feet, well leave. And the next time you need our help youll ask for it in vain.

It was a long time since Pellen had seen Asher looking cornered. Uncomfortably reminded of days he thought hed thrust well behind him, he took refuge in staring at the floor. Dared one upwards glance, at Dathne, and saw that she too could not bring herself to witness Ashers pained dismay. Her gaze was fixed unwavering to her knees.

Then Asher sighed. You reckon I got all the answers just cause once upon a time I fit the shape of your bloody prophecy? Sorry, Jinny. It dont work like that. Somehow, and I aint got the first clue why, I can do a few Doranen tricks. Dont make me all-knowing. Dont bloody make me Barl.

I dont recall any of us saying it did, Beale said.

Asher snorted. Maybe not. But I reckon you been thinkin it. He shook his head. Look. Ole man. I can feel what you feel. Somethin aint right. But thats it. Dont you reckon if I had all the bloody answers Id have left you alone? You reckon I dont know what I owe you three? And aye, Fernel Pintte. You reckon theres a day goes by I dont say sorry to Veira and Rafel and Matt, that they had to die for me? You reckon I wanted that? That I wanted Pellen, here, to get hisself crippled?

Pellen looked up sharply. I was Doranas Captain of the Guard. I fought for my City and our kingdom. I dont regret that. And I dont need your regret, either.

Startled, Asher stared at him. Pellen

Oh, be quiet, he said. Sometimes you make me very tired, Asher. He looked at Beale. You threefourwere asked here today because we needed your insights. Youve shared them with us and were grateful to you. As Mayor of Dorana I extend my official thanks. And I ask that you keep what weve discussed here privy.

We know how to keep secrets, said Polly dryly. And our Circle oaths still stand. But its almost certain therell be others whove felt things and theyre bound by no promises to keep those feelings to themselves.

Pellen nodded. I know. But unless Ive badly misread the situation, I think weve a little time before private misgivings turn into widespread public panic. Well use that time wisely, I promise, to discover the cause of these ructions youve felt.

And thats an official promise, is it? she said, sniffing. From the Mayor of Dorana? Her gaze flicked sideways. And the Innocent Mage?

He nodded. Yes.

With a sigh, Dathne at last rose from the footstool and let her weary gaze touch their three visitors faces. Youre probably cursing me for dragging you here. For playing on past loyalties and making you face a darkness youd hoped was nothing but your imagination. Im sorry. I am. More than anything else I dont want this to be true.

None of us does, said Beale. But Prophecy never covered this possibility, did it?

Dathne sighed, so sad. No, Beale. It never did.

You hadnt a choice, Dathne, said Jinny. You had to call us. And we had to come.

But Jinnys right, added Polly, a warning glint in her eyes. We wont be taken for granted.

I never meant to do that, said Asher, scowling again. This business I be rattled. I thought I were done with prophecy. I thought it were done with me. Dont much like thinkin on the chance that aint so.

None of us much like it, Asher, said Beale, holding out his hand. Were fighting the same fight. Best we not fight each other as well.

Relieved, Pellen watched Asher cross the parlour and take the old mans hand in a firm clasp. No, Beale. Best not. He let go. So. If we are lookin to fight another battle, can I count on you?

As Beale and Polly exchanged looks, Jinny nodded. Of course, she said firmly. We were born to the Circle, Asher, and well die in its service. Just as one day youll die the Innocent Mage, even though you never wanted that and resent what it means with every breath you take.

Thank you for coming, said Pellen. Thank you for trusting us.

We have to trust each other, Pellen, said Polly, her lips trembling. We have to trust theres a way out of this. I cant believe we defeated Morg only to see Lur crumble so soon after. I cant believe thats what Jervale had in mind.

Its not, said Dathne. Perhaps its just She cleared her throat. Perhaps we relaxed too soon.

What of the Doranen? Beale asked. We cant leave them ignorant forever.

Asher shrugged. They be my problem, I reckon. You leave em to me.

And Fernel? Pellen added, frowning at the Circle members. I know hes your friend. I know youre loyal to him, and why. Believe me, I dont wish to come between you. But what he said here today, well, Ill not deny it disturbs me. Ive a nose for trouble and troublemakers. Your friend doesnt strike me as the type to keep his grievances to himself. He glanced at Asher, then looked back. Even though he was warned.

I know Fernel best, said Polly. Were less than a days cart ride distant from each other. Ill hear soon enough if hes stirring up mischief. But I cant honestly believe that hed

Youd best believe he might, said Asher. Pellen aint never wrong about this kind of thing. Then he pulled a face. Well. Almost never.

And that was a sly dig at their own complicated past. Pellen, sparing him a pointed look, offered Polly a smile. I hope youre right. But if you should feel uneasy, or hear anything untoward

Yes, said Polly, unhappy. Ill send word.

All of you should stay vigilant, said Dathne, looking from Jinny to Polly to Beale. Not only about Fernel. We need to know as soon as you hear word of unrest, or misgivings, or folk whispering about what theyve felt in the earth.

The three remaining Circle members nodded.

Thank you, she said. And if Ive been high-handed, or bossy, or made you feelfeel slighted, I beg your forgiveness. I never meant to. Ive been worried too. And Im no better at being worried than Asher is.

She kissed each of them then, and afterwards Pellen escorted them to the front door. Blind Jinny held Pollys arm, steadfast and composed. He watched Beale shepherd them courteously down the path to the gate, then drew back into his home and returned to the parlour.

Sink me, Pellen, said Asher, looking up. What a bloody great mess that turned into.

Oh, I dont know, he said, dropping gratefully into the chair Jinny had used. Things mightve got a bit heated here and there, but you got what you wanted. You learned what they knew and pulled the wool completely over their eyes.

Asher stared at him, nonplussed. Eh? Pellen, what are you

Dont even bother trying to deny it, he snapped, and fixed Asher with his best Captain of the Guard glare. Because we both know you know more than you revealed to those three Circle members. But you are going to tell me the truth, Asher. Every last syllable of it. Starting right now.

Instead of answering, Asher looked at Dathne. Pellen, watching their silent communion, thought Ibby, and felt his heart thud. Oh he missed her, he missed her, and the thoughts they could share with a single, fleeting glance.

You have to, Asher, said Dathne, sighing. He has a right to the truth.

Stifling a groan, Asher returned to the window and hitched himself once more onto the deep sill. As though he found some kind of strength, or solace, in the sturdy timberwork around him.

I know that, he grunted. Reckon I dont know that, woman?

Dathnes eyebrows shot up. Woman? Careful. Innocent Mage or not, I can still

Oh, enough, said Pellen. After all weve been through do you think the pair of you can divert me?

They fidgeted, silenced.

And I want to know about Rafel, as well, he added, still curt. If hes sensing things His throat closed, fear stifling the words.

Pellen? said Dathne. She could read him almost as well as Ibby ever did. What is it?

With a wrenching effort he laid his unclenched fingers on the arm of his chair. Charis.

Shes sensing things too?

I dont know. I think so. I have my suspicions. He had to blink hard, to hold back the stinging fear. So whatevers troubling this kingdom we have to fix it. Because shes my little girl and shes suffering. Shes suffering, Dathne, and I cant help her. Im her father, its my duty to protect her, keep her safe, but

Dathne dropped to a crouch beside him and took hold of his forearm with both hands. Pellen, dont fret yourself. Youre a wonderful father. Charis adores you. The way she looks at you sometimes, with her heart in her eyes? Shed drown you in love if she could. Youve not failed her. Youll never fail her.

Daths right, Asher said gruffly. You be a grand da, Pellen. Aint no call for you to be doubtin yourself on that.

Touched, comforted a little, he looked first at Dathne, then at Asher. Thisthis wrongness in the earth. How did you explain it to Rafel?

I didnt, said Asher. Not ezackly. I told him not to be frighted. I told him it werent nowt to worrit on. I told him Id explain what it meant when he were older.

Oh, he said. And he accepted that?

Course he did. Im his da, aint I?

Well, yes, except Hes very much your son, Asher. Hes a stubborn lad. The kind of boy who likes real answers when he asks a question.

Werent no point fillin his head with tales of Weather Magic and suchlike, said Asher, pulling a face. He dont never need to know about any of that.

Need to? Of course he didnt. But Rafel was the kind of lad whod want to. Surely his parents knew it? He was their son. They werent blind to him, were they?

Rafels fine, said Dathne, retreating to the couch. And Im sure Charis will be, too. Lets not worry about them now. This problem in Lur, Pellenwere determined to fix it. Quickly, so Rafeland Charisand all of us in the kingdomcan go about our lives untouched by shadows.

A sentiment with which he heartily agreed. ButFix it how, Dathne? Come on. The times come for you to empty your purse on the table.

Aye, said Asher, and let his head fall against the windows embrasure. Turned his gaze to the garden beyond, so his eyes were hidden. Youre right. You got to be told. So, any road, heres what I know

With increasing alarm, Pellen listened to his friend reveal dreadful, close-kept secrets. So many times waking at night, tormented by a nameless dread. The knots in his gut that grew tighter, never easing, as Lurs underpinnings tilted, unbalanced. The growing suspicion that terribly, fantastically, Barls Weather Magic was somehow involved.

The Weather map, for ten long years believed to be dead.

Alive? he said, horrified. With power in it? How can that be?

Asher shrugged. I dont know, Pellen. How am I sposed to know? I didnt invent the bloody thing, did I?

But you said it was dead.

Thats cause I thought it was! Asher retorted. Now it looks like I were wrong. You want to lock me up for makin a mistake?

No! I want you to tell me what this means! I want to know whats happening, whats gone awry! I want you to fix it! But he didnt say that. He knew better than to say that, after today.

Except Asher, being Asher, heard his unspoken words. Sink me, Pellen. Not you too.

Im sorry, he said, stricken. Asher, Im sorry.

Asher pulled a knee to his chest and let his forehead drop to it, hiding his face. Skewered with guilt, Pellen watched him wrestle fear, wrestle despair, fight his never-ending battle against what was asked of him, who he was, that hed never asked to be. The self he couldnt deny, because he was a good man.

I am sorry, he said again. Truly. He breathed deeply, hesitating then surrendered to his own fear. But its Lur, Asher. And weve no place else to go.

Asher lifted his head. His eyes were bleak with resentful acceptance. I know. Pellen, I know what I am. The Innocent Mage. And like it or not, Lurs last livin WeatherWorker.

Weather Magic. Remembering what it looked like, he winced. You were WeatherWorker once. But must you be that again?

I might.

No, you mightnt, said Dathne sharply. Well find another way.

And if there aint one? said Asher, so weary. What then, Dath?

I dont know! And I dont care! Dathne leapt up. I nearly lost you to the Doranens magic once, Asher. If you think Ill lift a finger to help you risk yourself again

Fine! Asher banged a fist on the windowsill. So this time I sit on my arse and do nowt. And whatLur perishes? Then what were the point of savin it the first time, Dath? What were the point of Gar dyin, Matt dyin, your precious bloody Veira dyin, and her Rafel, if I do nowt to help when theres more trouble stirrin?

Im not saying dont help! Im saying find another way!

Pellen, uncomfortable, considered a loose thread in his blue trousers. Hed have to pinch it safe with a stitch or three, later. Glancing up, he caught the anguish on Dathnes face, the grim endurance in Ashers, and felt his own heart break a little.

Please. Dont fight. Were this kingdoms caretakers. Its guardians. How can we help it if were battling each other?

Dathne dropped back to the couch. And how can you ask me not to fight for him, Pellen? Hes my life.

Just as youre his. But hes right. If we arent going to save Lur this time we might as well have given it to Morg.

Besides, said Asher, striving for lightness. You be the one who started this, Dath, with your prophecy and your Circle and suchlike.

Oh, dont remind me, she said bitterly. As if the thought doesnt make me sick at heart, Asher. Sick.

Asher slid out of the embrasure and went to her. Sat beside her on the couch and drew her close to him, kissing her hair. Dont feel too sick. It were prophecy brought us together, remember?

She sagged against him. Well, now I want it to leave us alone!

Youre certain, are you, said Pellen, that the solution to our problem will come down to WeatherWorking?

Certain? Asher shook his head. Aint nowt certain about any of this, Pellen. But I got my suspicions.

And if what youve all felt is connected with the WeatherWorking? With Barls Weather map? What then? We dont truly know how the maps magic works, do we?

No, said Dathne. Not beyond what little Gar told Asher. And I dont think he understood it. I dont think even Durm did. Or Borne. Barl was the expert, and she left no instructions behind.

Frustrated silence. Then Asher cleared his throat.

As it happens, Dath that might not be true.

CHAPTER NINE

Pulling away from him, Dathne stared into her husbands apprehensive face, her dark eyes hollow with misgivings. The diary? she said at last. Asher, are you saying

Do you mean Barls diary? said Pellen, as she and Asher held each others molten gazes. Asher, you said that was destroyed. To keep Lur safe from the magics it contained, Gar burned the diary to cinders, you said.

Asher shrugged. Aye, well. I lied.

To me! cried Dathne, and wrenched herself off the couch. Asher, how could you?

Jaw stubbornly set, Asher shrugged again. I promised Gar Id keep it safe, didnt I?

And what about keeping Lur safe? Dathne demanded, hands on her hips. You said it yourselffor all the equality that now exists between the Olken and the Doranen there are still mages like Rodyn Garrick who consider themselves superior. Who pine for the old days. Let the brute magic in that diary fall into his hands, or the hands of a mage like him, and

Asher shook his head. That aint goin to happen.

You hope it wont happen! she retorted. But in matters of Doranen magic I prefer certainty to hope. You shouldve burned that diary, Asher. You had no business keeping it. You had no right to lie!

Look, said Asher. Im sorry. You werent never meant to find out the diary aint destroyed. But

And why isnt it? Pellen asked. You and Gar, of all people, you both knew how dangerous it is.

Cause Gar Asher sighed. It sounds daft, I know, but he I reckon he went a bit soft on Barl, there at the end. Translatin bits and pieces of that bloody diary, I reckon heand he was goin to die! He scrubbed his hand across his face. It were his dyin bloody wish, werent it, that I keep the diary safe so thered be somethin of her left in the world. How could I say no?

Stony-faced, Dathne stared down at him. You couldve said yes, then burned it after.

Gone back on my word to him? said Asher, his own stare just as hard. I dont bloody think so. And if you reckon thats the kind of man I am, Dathne, then

I dont know what I reckon, she said coldly. Not any more. After all, until a few moments ago I reckoned youd never lie to me.

Sink me bloody sideways! said Asher, close to shouting. I owed him, Dathne, and I

And what of your debt to me? she said, tears threatening. Your wife. The mother of your children.

Aye, well, as I recall there were one or two truths you forgot to mention along the road, Dath, said Asher, well and truly fired up now. So mayhap youd best not start flingin mud, my fine lady, seein how

All right, said Pellen, as Dathne stalked to the parlour window. Please. Lets everyone take a deep breath. The last thing we need is to say something well soon enough come to regret. Asher

What? said Asher, his scowl ferocious. You got a knife you feel like stickin in me too, Pellen?

No. No, of course not, he said, as soothingly as he could. But I cant help wonderingAsher, did you think you couldnt trust us with the truth?

Asher looked at him as though hed lost his wits. Dont be bloody stupid, Pellen. I reckoned youd be happier not knowing, is all. Happier thinkin there werent no chance of a Doranen gettin their hands on the sinkin and usin old Doranen magic ever again. I know Id be bloody happier thinkin that!

Remembering his nightmares of that battle in the Market Square, of seeing Morg transform helpless men and women into foul, slaughtering beasts remembering the terrifying creatures Asher had summoned from thin air to defeat them, he nodded. Im sure you would.

Ashers eyes were grim. Sometimes I wake up at night, frighted on whats in that diary, he said, his voice almost a whisper. Frighted on what could happen if some of them spells got loose. Think I want that for you and Dathne?

Oh, well Im sure its very considerate of you, said Dathne, icy. But perhaps thats the kind of decision we shouldve been left to make for ourselves!

Dont you be bloody stupid either, Dath, said Asher. Once I told you then youd know, wouldnt you? There aint no takin it back after, is there?

Dathne opened her mouth, then thought for a moment. Thats not the point, she muttered. The point is I dont appreciate being treated like a child.

I didnt treat you like a bloody child! he snapped. I treated you like the woman I love best in the world. I was tryin to protect you, Dathne. And you, Pellen. Any road, you know now the diary aint burned, so lets not fratch on it, eh? Whats done is done.

As Dathne breathed hard, subduing her temper, Pellen frowned. So wheres it hidden?

Ha. Ashers lips quirked with brief, wry amusement. Gars got it.

He stared. What? You dont mean

Aye. Its in his coffin. Aint nobody goin to footle about in there.

Thats disgusting, said Dathne.

Why? He wont mind, said Asher. Means hes still safeguardin his kingdom, dont it? Reckon hed smile on it, if he knew.

Asher

Pellen raised a calming hand. Peace, Dathne. Hes right. Whats done is done. And what we need to do now is decide whats to be done next. Is the diary even any use to us? We know there are warspells in it, but is there anything else? Anything that can help us now?

Gar translated some of it, said Asher. The lingering amusement in his face died out, leaving him sorrowful. But I never read nowt cept the warspells. And after I killed Morg after Gar He shook his head. Never wanted to lay eyes on the bloody thing again, did I?

So it is possible, he persisted, that somewhere in that diary is an explanation for whats happening here. Maybe even some kind of spell that cancan heal Lur before even the least sensitive Olken among us realises something is wrong, or someone tells the Doranen, or they notice it themselves.

If there is, and Garland translated it, we could avert widespread panic, said Dathne. Arms folded, eyes brooding, she flicked a glance at Asher. We could save Lur without anyone else having to know it needed saving at all. Without WeatherWorking.

I could live with that, I reckon, said Asher. Aint like I be champin at the bit to start that malarkey again.

Pellen considered him, uneasy even though this was their best hope for averting disaster. So youll retrieve the diary?

Soon as I can, Asher replied. My word on it.

He nodded, feeling strangely comforted. If there was a way out of Lurs new trouble his friend would find it.

Good.

Asher frowned. Pellen, dont you go gettin your hopes up. There aint no surety Ill find an answer in that diary. And even if I do, could be I aint good enough to use the magic. I aint trained and there aint a Doranen I can ask for help. I meanIll try. Ill do my bloody best. But I cant promise you nowt.

It wasnt fair, what they were asking. What they expected. Stung with guilt, he tried not to see the fear beneath Ashers customary brusque exterior. I know you cant, he said, trying to smile. Its all right.

Ha, Asher muttered. It aint all right, Pellen. Its just the way it is.

An uncomfortable silence fell then, as they lost themselves in their separate thoughts and separate fears. At last, afraid of letting himself drown in the doldrums completely, and niggled by one last piece of unfinished business, he looked up. Reluctant to mention it, though he did badly want an answer.

What? said Dathne.

He felt his face warm. She knows me too well. Nothing. Sorry. Only you were going to tell me about Rafel.

Rafel, sighed Asher. Aye. He rubbed his chin. The thing is, seems Rafels like me.

Like you, he said blankly. And then he realised what Asher meant. A mage like you? He can wield Doranen magic?

Aye. Asher didnt look pleased about it. His eyes were bleak, his mouth pinched. Which aint what me and Dath were after.

Of course it wasnt. Who knew better than they did, the kind of complications such a talent wrought? Who else knows?

Well, Rafe knows, said Asher, with a kind of grim humour. Ole Pother Nix. And Pother Kerril, as hes retired. And Darran knew.

No-one else? Not any member of the Mage Council?

No, said Dathne, as troubled as her husband. And we want to keep it that way.

Cause the last bloody thing we need is Rodyn Garrick and his poxy friends gettin the wind up over Rafel, said Asher. Bad enough they still look sideways at me. I dont need em lookin that way at my son.

And what of Deenie? Is she

We dont think so, said Dathne. Shes shown no sign of it so far.

So cross your fingers for us she never does, said Asher, scowling again. My little mouse dont need Doranen magic.

Thinking of Charis, and how hed feel were he to find she was blighted like Rafel, he frowned. No. And then the implications of this news began to stir. Rafel knows, does he, how important it is that he not

Aye, said Asher. Me and Dath, weve told him.

Looking closely at his friends, Pellen could see his own unease reflected in their tight faces. Saw more than unease, and felt his nerves jump. Ahjust how powerful is he?

Asher and Dathne exchanged guarded glances. Then Dathne sighed. Powerful enough that wetook precautions when he was still small, she admitted, reluctant. With Nixs help weve hobbled him so he cant do himself or anyone else a mischief.

Does he know?

Asher shook his head. Tell Rafe that and like as not hed see if he could unhobble himself. Gets easy fratched over not bein able to magic as he pleases, does our Rafe.

That didnt surprise him. Asher and his boy had so much in common. Thank you for telling me, he said, feeling oddly formal. Of course Ill not breathe a word.

After that there seemed nothing left to say. As he saw Asher and Dathne to his mayoral homes front gate, Charis returned from her playtime at the Tower. The maid whod brought her back let go of his daughters hand, bobbed a curtsey to him, then Asher and Dathne, accepted a silver trin in thanks and went on her way.

Dadda! Dadda! Charis squealed, flourishing a sunflower. Look what I grew!

Snatching his daughter up in his arms, he buried his face in her frothy black curls. Love was a battering storm within him. I see it! Whos a clever puss, then?

Wriggling, Charis flashed a smile at Asher and Dathne. Deenie grew one too, but mines bigger, she said proudly. And Meister Rumly didnt help me one bit.

You had lessons with Meister Rumly? he said, and shook his head at his friends. Not because he minded her learning to use her magic, Ibbys gift, but because the Olken mage charged handsomely for his tutoring and neither Asher nor Dathne would countenance him paying part of the fee whenever Charis joined in Deenies lessons.

Dathne dropped a kiss on Chariss head. Its a beautiful sunflower, Charis.

Aye, said Asher, smiling. You be the queen of sunflowers, poppet.

Pellen squeezed his daughter tight. No, shes the queen of the tub. Come along, little gardener. Bath-time for you. AsherDathne

The smile died out of Ashers eyes. Well talk, by and by.

Good, he said, and let his voice snap, just a little. No more secrets.

Secrets? said Charis. What secret, Dadda? Whos got a secret?

Ah, Barl save him. Children. I have, he said, turning away from the front gate, and his friends. And Ill bet you never guess what it is.

I will! I will! she said, pouting. I can guess, Dadda. I can!

Laughing at her vehemence he took her inside, closing the door on the world and its troubles. Letting himself pretend, for the last sweet time, that they were safe, and Lur was safe, and bad times were nothing but stories from the past.

Leaving behind the leafy residential district where the wealthiest Doranen and Olken lived, and Pellen lived for as long as he was mayor, Asher and Dathne made their unspeaking way into the commercial district so they could wander along the high street up to the palace, and home. With the weekly markets still four days away, the Citys streets were only moderate busy. A few ridden horses. A handful of carts and carriages. Some folk trudging, wearing out their shoe leather. Doranas inhabitants, well-used to seeing them out and about on foot, did nowt more than nod and smile as they passed. Sometimes not even that, if they were Doranen.

The sun was starting its long, slow sink, gilding the brightly coloured buildings walls and tiled roofs. With afternoons shadows lengthening, some shops were starting to close their doors and shutter their windows. Asher felt himself frown at that. He and Dath had lost nearly the whole day to Lur and its troubles, yet they were still no closer to solving them. Instead theyd piled more strife onto their plates, what with dratted Fernel Pintte and his foaming hatred of all things Doranen, and Pollys unwelcome opinion that his resentments were widely shared.

Chewing on that news, not liking the taste of it one little bit not liking either the thought of digging up Barls bloody diary he let the heavy silence drag on until he and Dathne reached halfway to the Tower. Then he took her hand in his, possessively, and tugged her a step closer.

Come on, Dath, he wheedled. You know you cant stay fratched at me forever.

She snorted. I can try.

Mayhap it werent right I never told you about the diary but I didnt hold my tongue cause I dont trust you.

He felt her fingers relax. Heard her release a long, slow sigh. I know, she said. Sounding like she did when she wanted to be fratched with him, and couldnt. But that doesnt stop me wanting to slap you.

Ycan do more than slap me after lights out, he suggested. Ycan have your wicked way with me, woman, and I wont try to fight you.

Another snort. Youre impossible.

Aye, he said, grinning. Its why you love me, I reckon.

A third derisive snort. Who says I love you?

Heedless of anyone who might be watching he halted, swept her to him and bent her over his arm to plunder a breathless kiss. I do.

Blushed bright red, she beat a small tattoo against his chest. Asher! she protested, as Olken passers-by whispered and giggled. What are you doing?

He raised an eyebrow. Practisin for lights out.

And she laughed, just like he knew she would. Hand in hand they kept walking up the sloping High Street.

Asher said Dathne, breaking the brief silence. About Fernel Pintte

He squeezed her hand. Dont you go fratchin yourself on him, Dath. Reckon I put that fool straight.

You scared the daylights out of him, is what you did, she retorted. And me.

Didnt mean to, he said, surprised. Not you, any road. Him I meant to bloody terrify. Stupid bastard. Whats he thinkin on, eh, wantin to stir up that kind of trouble?

Dathne chewed at her bottom lip. Asher, what if its true? What if some Olken are as unhappy as he and Polly claim?

Dath, I aint heard that kind of claptrap from a single Olken I know. You let him rattle you, is all.

Just because people arent saying things doesnt mean theyre not thinking them.

And what if they are? You said it, Dath. We cant kick the Doranen out. There aint no place for em to go. So if there are more stupid Olken like Fernel Pintte and that biddy Polly, theyll have to face facts, eh? Cause aint nowt going to change. The Doranen be in Lur to stay, just like us Olken.

She sighed. Oh, Asher

Dath, you can Oh, Asher me into the middle of next bloody week. Im right, and you know it. He squeezed her hand again. Dont fret. Once we got the earth settled again, everythin else will settle too. Youll see.

Lapsing into friendly silence, they left the city behind and entered the palace grounds. Strolled the wide, djelba-lined carriageway towards the Tower, nodding and smiling at the visitors whod been paying their respects in the Garden of Remembrance. A few times they stopped to chat, pretending all was well, because it was expected of them. They werent Lurs royal familybut they were its next best thing.

At last they passed through the gates that kept their privy grounds safe from the public and saw their grubby son sitting cross-legged on the grass beneath a sheltering tree. When he saw them he leapt up, hands fisting by his sides.

Da. Mama. Rafes lower lip jutted, a sure sign he expected trouble. We got to talk.

Last thing before bedtime, every night less he were sick, or in trouble, Rafel padded his way downstairs and out to the stables to give Stag an apple for his supper. Even on winters coldest nights he did that. It made him feel warm inside, knowing the pony wouldnt go to sleep until theyd had their whispering moment.

The dimly glimfired yard was hushed, all the lads and Jed in their dormitory over the stables where once upon a time Da used to sleep. In their snug stables the horses made sleepy night sounds, straw shifting beneath them, hooves clinking on the bricks. There was a lamp burning in Stablemeister Divits privy quarters above the feed room, and a shadow flickering against his drawn curtains that said he was safe in there, minding his own grown-up business.

Stag looked out over his stable door, ears pricked, head tossing up and down. His pony way of saying hurry up, hurry up. Rafel clicked his tongue and Stag whickered, deep in his throat, so it sounded like he was laughing. Pleased to see him. Greedy for his apple.

There you go, said Rafel, stroking the ponys warm brown neck as it crunched and slobbered, white apple-foam dripping. You did good today, running faster than Gooses nag. Youre the best pony in the kingdom.

Stag snorted, agreeing. Rafel rested his forehead against Stags cheek, fingers reaching to scratch behind the ponys ears, where it sometimes itched. He heard the funny flap-flap-slap of Stags droopy lips, the sound the pony made when his fingers found the right spot.

Im frighted, Stag, he whispered. Da and Mama say what I felt in the riverpond was Lur rolling over in its sleep, thats all, but that aint true. I know it aint true. And I reckon Das gonna try and stop whats really wrong. But what if he cant, Stag? Its bad. Its really bad. What if Dawhat if he

He couldnt say the words out loud. He felt dizzy to think them, even.

He smeared his sleeve across his face, angry at himself for being frighted Da might die. Angry at his father for lying. For still treating him like a sprat.

I aint Deenie. Im old enough to know.

Stag nudged his arm, asking for more apple.

Sorry, he said. I only brought one. I only ever bring one. Reckon you ought to know that by now, you ole trout.

Stag snorted again, nose wrinkled, and stuck out his long tongue. Because it was their game, and it wasnt Stags fault he was frighted, Rafel grabbed the ponys tongue and tugged it, but only a few times. He wasnt in the mood for playing.

Night, Stag, he said, and patted him goodbye. See you in the morning.

He walked back to the Tower, feeling the cloudy night stretching dark and quiet around him. Even the nightbirds singing was soft, as though they couldnt not sing but were afraid of waking something. Bright light burned in Da and Mamas parlour window. It was far too early for them to be asleep. Halfway up the Towers wide stone steps he slowed, then stopped. He was meant to go straight to bed now, that was the way it worked. One apple for Stag then upstairs to sleep. Except

How am I sposed to sleep when they wont tell me the truth? They should tell me the truth, after what I felt today.

But there was no point arguing on it, even though he surely wanted to. Hed already tried once. Made Da all fearsome, so Mama had to soothe him down. She was good at that. She got a lot of practise. But seeing Da fearsome made him glad he hadnt told his parents everything. Hed told them what hed felt at the riverpond with Goose, but he left out the part about calling the silver carp. It wasnt Doranen magic, but even so theyd be fratched. Last thing he needed was for Da to be fratched. When Da was fratched he noticed things.

And if he figures out what else Ive been doing when hes already riled

Feeling guilty and scared, and twice as prickly because of it, he stamped into the Tower and up the winding staircase to the blue floor, which was all his. Maybe hed feel better for reading Tollins adventures again. They were fearsome toohe and Goose had near wet themselves, reading that parchmentbut in a funny way it was a good kind of fright. A ghost story fright. Theyd played explorers the whole afternoon after reading it, and pretended to die dozens of lingering, gruesome deaths. But as he rode home hed remembered the riverpond and his happiness had fizzled. Cheering himself up with Tollins parchment was sure to help. Except

Deenie was perched on the middle of his bed, waiting for him.

What do you want? he said, slamming the chamber door behind him, his heart slamming just as hard. If shed been snooping if shed found the hidden parchment This is my room. You aint allowed in here.

Knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them, her long nightdress glowing pinkly in the bedside lamps glimfire, Deenie looked at him. Her eyes filled with tears.

Snivel, snivel, snivel, he added, feeling savage. Youre such a girl, Deenie. Go back to bed.

She sniffed, not budging. What happened today, Rafe?

That made him blink. Nowt. Why? What dyou mean?

I felt something, she said, hugging her knees even harder. I feltI felt you.

You did not, he retorted. Youre just a sprat, Deenie. You cant feel nowt.

Yes, I can, she said, nodding hard. You did a big magic, Rafe. And then you got all scared and upside-down when the earth went funny. I felt it.

No, you didnt! His mouth was dry, his belly churning. And if you tell Da and Mama you did, IllIllI dont do big magic!

Her chin was all wobbly. Yes, you do. Today you made the fish jump. And other times you crack stones and you dance leaves and you do silly things with your bathwater. She was breathing all hiccupy now, her eyes glitter bright. You do trickier things too. Andand this morning you did something really tricky.

She could feel him doing the spells he pinched from Arlin? Shed felt him picking Das Doranen lock? Shocked breathless, he stared at his sister. And then he shoved her hard with both hands so she tumbled backwards onto his pillows.

If you tell Da or Mama any of that IllIll spit on you! he panted, nearly cross-eyed with fright. With magic in it! See if I dont!

Deenie scrambled to the floor, putting the quilt-covered bed between them. I wont tell. Why would I tell? Dont spit on me. Please dont spit on me, Rafe.

Suddenly he felt horrible, like the worst person in Lur. Deenies eyes were so wide. She was a bratty sprat, his little sister, a girl, but she was family. And there she stood staring at him with her wide eyes dribbling tears, because of him. Hed done that. Hed made her afraid.

I wont, he said, hot with sudden shame, and dropped onto his bed. I wont, Deenie. I promise.

Sniffing again, she clambered up beside him. Whyd you go all upside-down, Rafe?

I aint sure, he said, and held out his arm for her to snuggle against him. Its hard to explain. How come you know when I do tricky magic, Deenie? Not even Da knows that.

Safe and soothed beside him she shrugged, a tiny wriggle of her shoulders. I just do, she whispered.

Aye, but how?

Another wriggle. I feel it, she said. In here. She poked a finger into her nightdress-covered chest. Like a tickle.

Hed never heard of such a thing. Pother Kerril had never said anything on it. Neither had Da or Mama. Who knows you feel magic?

No-one, she said. Just you.

Da doesnt know? Or Mama?

She shook her head. No.

You aint even told Charis?

Rafe

Why not? You tell her everythin else, he said. Youre always whisperin and gigglin, you two.

She wriggled right out from under his arm. We are not! Anyway, you and Goose are the same. Cept you dont giggle. You snort. Thats boys giggling, Charis says.

Charis, he sneered. Shes a frilly sprat, she is.

She is not! said Deenie. Anyway, Goose is aagoose.

He aint no such thing!

Is too!

Is not!

Istoo!Hehe

You hush up, Deenie, he said, fist raised. This is my room, and Goose is my friend. So you dont get to call him names.

Flushed and teary again, Deenie slid off the bed and put her hands on her hips. Youre mean, Rafel. Youre aabossy ole fart!

He rolled his eyes. Im ten, Deenie. I aint bloody old.

Oooh! she said, and slapped a hand to her mouth. You said bloody, Rafel. You said a swear.

He smirked. So did you. So were even. So there.

Its not the same!

Is too.

Is not!

Frustrated and furious they glared at each other. Then Deenie giggled. He tried to stay cross with her, tried to keep his scowl from slipping, but he couldnt. So they giggled together, Deenie scrambling back to his side again, knees scrunched tight to her chest the way she liked best.

And then he didnt feel like giggling any more, because he remembered what shed said. Like probing a sore tooth with his tongue, he couldnt leave it alone. You really felt me call those fish?

Solemn, eyes round like an owls, she nodded.

And after that? You feltyou felt He couldnt say it. Whenever he thought about Lurs groaning earth he went trembly sick inside.

Mmm, said Deenie, and her eyes filled with more tears. Deenie was a watering pot, she cried all the time. She was such a girl. Everything went funny, she whispered. Crackly and crinkly. The air smelled wrong. And you were so scared.

He wanted to say, I was not! But he knew shed argue. Funny how she described it. Crackly and crinkly. It wasnt the way he felt things, but Pother Kerril said every mage was different.

He frowned at his bratty, spratty sister. Have you told Da or Mama about you feeling the earth go funny?

No, she said, and seemed to shrink into herself. Dont you, either.

That surprised him. Why not?

Instead of answering, she drew pictures on his quilt with one careful finger.

Deenie, why not?

She shrugged. Das fratched. He doesnt like magic.

Deenie was too young for Da to talk to her man to man. So how would she know he was fratched? Is that you feeling things again? he said, suspicious.

I cant help it, she said, her voice wobbling. I just do.

He didnt like it, but he sposed he couldnt blame her. Why aint you told Charis?

Cause, said Deenie slowly. She gets all bouncy and she cant keep a secret. She doesnt mean to tell, she just does. She sighed. Did you tell Goose?

Course I did, he said, scornful. He aint bouncy. He knows how to keep his trap shut. Not like a girl.

Its not cause shes a girl! Its cause shes Charis. But shes still my bestest friend. Deenies cross face turned wistful. She grows beautiful sunflowers. Better than me.

Rafel nudged his sister gently with one knee. Maybe. But she cant feel things like you do.

I think she might. Now Deenie traced a fingertip up and down one of the quilts fat blue stripes. Im not sure. I havent asked her. But I think she knows somethings wrong, too.

Rafel thought about that. He knew. Da knew, and Mama. Deenie knew. And now Charis? Da wanted to keep it a secret, but how could he? Maybe lots of people knew. And if they did then soon theyd come clamouring at him. Thats what people were like. Theyd make a fuss, expecting him to fix things like he did before cause he was the Innocent Mage. Fear surged again, hot and hungry and crowding into his throat.

He aint got King Gar to help him this time. Hes got Mama, but its not the same. It aint fair. This is all the Doranens fault. They started it. They should fix it. What if Da cant fix it on his own? What ifwhat if

Rafel? said Deenie. Her voice was nearly a whimper. Rafel, whats the matter? What

And then the chamber door opened, and Mama was standing there with such a look on her face.

Rafel? Deenie? Jervales mercy, what do you think youre doing? she demanded. Do you know what time it is? Back to bed at once, young lady. And you, Rafe! You should be in bed too. Therell be no more supper apples for that pony if this is how you carry on!

Deenie tumbled off the bed, swallowing a sob. She never could help snivelling if ever a voice got raised at her. Sorry, Mama.

I should think so. And you, Rafe? said Mama, as Deenie squeezed past her on bare, scurrying feet. Are you sorry too?

No, he wasnt, but if he said that, Stag wouldnt get his supper apple for nigh on a week, most like. So he ducked his head. Aye, Mama.

Ha, said Mama. She was a tough one to fool. A likely story.

She still sounded cross, but not too cross. So he looked up again. Mama

What is it? she said, and came properly into his chamber. Rafe? What were you and Deenie talking on? You didnt tell her anything, did you? About what happened today?

No, Mama. She told me. But he couldnt say that, either. Course not. You said not to say.

Good, she said, and sat on the bed beside him. Smoothed her hand over his hair. Because she might be bright as a button but shes still a little girl. A shy little girl, Rafe. Shes not rough and tumble bold, like you.

Rough and tumble bold. Mama had never called him that before. He liked it. Deenies a watering pot, he said, pulling a face. Boo hoo hoo, all the time.

Mamas fingers pinched his ear. Thats not nice, Rafe. Big brothers look after their little sisters. They dont call them names.

Yes, Mama, he said, like a good boy, because he didnt want her taking away his nightly visit to the stables. Sorry, Mama.

Wheedler, she said, half-smiling, half-scolding. As bad as your father. Now into your nightshirt, my fine fellow, and bed.

All right, he said. I will.

This time she kissed his forehead. Good boy.

Mama he said, as she stood. DaDa

What about Da?

Can he save us? Will he save us? But he couldnt get the words past the lump in his throat. Mama dropped to a crouch, and took his cold hands in hers.

Rafel, youre not to fret, she said softly, her eyes hard and bright. Nowt bad is going to happen. Your da wont let it. Your da is the strongest, bravest man in the kingdom. Were safe as safe, all of us. I promise.

He nodded, feeling his eyes sting, seeing her face blur. He hadnt snivelled once when he was telling her and Da about what hed felt in the riverpond but now he couldnt help it.

Hush, now, Mama said. And into bed. When I come back I want to find you fast asleep.

Yes, Mama, he said, gulping a bit.

As she closed the chamber door behind her, he kicked off his boots. Yanked off his socks. Stripped off his shirt and trews and smalls, leaving them draped all anyhow over his chamber chest, and slithered into his nightshirt. Dove beneath his blankets and doused the glimfire lamps with a finger-snap.

Your da is the strongest, bravest man in the kingdom. Were safe as safe, all of us. I promise.

Hugging Mamas words tight, his fears banished for now, and not needing Tollins parchment, he drifted to sleep.

CHAPTER TEN

Asher hadnt thought to find himself back in the royal crypt so soon. After leaving Darran to sleep here, hed thought he were done with the place. It prodded him in old, half-healed wounds he needed to leave alone. Not just for his sake, but for everyone elses too. It was those closest to him, the ones he loved best, Dathne and the sprats and Pellen, who suffered when a black mood came on him like a southeast winter sea storm.

But since when did my druthers get noticed, eh? he asked Gars still, stone face. Never, I reckon. So nowt much has changed.

Glimfire, flickering, seemed to reveal Gars lips quirking in a wry, reproving smile.

Asher, Asher. Petulance doesnt become you.

Startled, he looked around. Thought for a moment hed see Gar standing behind him, warm, living flesh instead of cold white marble. But no. He was alone.

Petulant? he said, and snorted. I aint petulant. Im fratched. And I reckon Ive a right, Gar. This were sposed to be over. You and me, I thought we ended it.

No reply. He didnt expect one. Gar was dead, and the dead did not speak.

For a long time he stood there, brooding. Dathne had offered to come with him so he didnt have to face without her what was hidden in Gars coffin. But hed said no, because he had no idea how long hed be here. And her coming with him wouldve meant leaving Rafe and Deenie in the Tower with only Cluny to call on if Rafe woke from a bad dream, tormented by the uneasy earth. Remembering his sons tale of the river-pond, Rafes wide eyes and pinched face, he felt his belly gripe tight.

I got to stop this. I got to. It be hurting my boy.

Reluctant, resentful, he used a Doranen spell of compulsion to ease aside the coffin lid, with its effigy, just far enough for him to fit his hand and arm within. He held his breath as the lid shifted, fearful of being assaulted by something foul, the heartbreaking stench of decay and corruption but instead he caught the faint, sweet scent of flowers. Pamarandums, best favoured by Nix in the rooms of the dead. Holze and Pother Nix between em had done right by Gar. He was whole. He was clean. Time had left him alone.

Closing his eyes, feeling his hearts dull thud within his broad rib-cage, he eased his hand into Gars burdened coffin.

Mayhap hidin that bloody diary in here werent such a crackin good idea after all.

When his fingers brushed against Gars linen wrappingsagainst Garhe felt his belly heave in revolted protest. Had to press his fisted left hand hard to his lips, his teeth, to keep the surging bile at bay. Where was the sinkin bloody thing? It had to still be here. No-one knew what hed done. It couldnt not be here.

On a sharply indrawn breath, almost a sob, the sweet pamarandum scent turning sour in his throat, he scrabbled blindly for the diary, skinning his knuckles on the coffins smooth side and floor as he poked and prodded and slid his fingers into places he couldnt bear to think on closely.

Come onstop hidingcome on

He nearly shouted when at last he touched the diarys ancient leather cover, smooth and cool after ten years in the dark. Snatching it hard, he pulled, desperate to be done with this. Grunted in pain as he banged and bruised his hand on the coffin lid dragging Barls secrets into the light.

Sweating, breathing harshly, he stared at the small, unremarkable book that in Durms arrogant hands had seen a prophecy fulfilled and a kingdom brought perilous close to destruction. Seen lives ruined. Villages smashed to bits and pieces. Seen the helpless innocent made widows, widowers and orphans, and bodies piled high in the streets like corded firewood.

So much death. So much ruin. All cause one man couldnt leave well enough alone.

But it were done, and couldnt be undone, and Barl knew Durm had paid a terrible price for his pride.

Easing himself backwards until his shoulder blades and spine touched Fanes cool, quiet tomb, he beckoned a hovering ball of glimfire closer and started leafing through Barls diary. Not to read the actual entries, because to his Olken eye they were nowt more than chicken scratchins in the dirt. But Gars scribbled translations were still stuck between its pages, so he read those. Well, some of them. He didnt need to read the translated warspells. Didnt even want to look at them. Instead, for the first time, he read the other bits and scraps, memory stirred by Gars neatly fluent penwork.

Remembrances of the Doranens battle to cross over the mountains the lands they travelled through, the peoples they encountered. Grief at the loss of friends, of children relief at finding such a pliable people, the Olken the fateful bargain theyd struck. The words of Making and UnMakingsink me, I bloody remember thatand the spell that had let Durm see through the Wall, that brought Morg into the kingdom, sealing their fates

Page after page, and no mention of the Weather map or how the Weather Magic worked its will. Eyes hot and gritty, feeling as though sand were trapped under their lids, Asher read and read starting to feel desperate as the scraps of Gars scribbling mounted up, with no answers. There hadnt been time to translate every last page of the diary, true, but surely, surely, if hed been able to translate the history, which didnt matter a bloody damn, then Gar wouldve bothered to translate the important bits, the magic. It werent like he didnt know the magic mattered most.

Except it looked ezackly like that, cause eventually he got to the last hastily scrawled page and hed not found a single useful word.

Disbelieving, despairing, he let the diary drop into his lap. Stared at the stone effigy hed created with such care. Gar, Gar, you fool. You bloody barnacle. Why didnt you realise Id need that magic one day!

Gar, being dead, or canny, had nowt to say for himself.

Muscles cold and stiff, his joints seized up, Asher levered himself to his feet, groaning, letting the diary tumble to the crypt floor, and stamped about relieving his temper with unbridled bad language.

When he was calm enough to think clearly he dropped onto the edge of Darrans coffin, taking mild pleasure in knowing itd make the ole trout curse and cuff.

All right, then, he said, glaring at Gars silent effigy. You werent the only bloody scholar in Lur, were you? Theres other Doranen studied the kind of claptrap you liked. Old books and poems and the way you folk used to talk. Barlsman Jaffee, hes nigh on cross-eyed from readin. I could show him the diary, couldnt I? I could trust him with it, dont you reckon? Hes a bloody Barlsman. All that piety. If I swore him to secrecy hed have to keep his word, eh? Wouldnt he?

He wanted to think so. But then, Durm had been Bornes Master Magician, hadnt he? The most powerful, most important mage after the king. Nobody knew better than Durm the dangerous muck in Barls diary. And what did he do with it? He let Morg in through the back door.

So no. He didnt dare even trust Barlsman Jaffee. Which meant hed have to try and sort the problem on his own. Bloody wonderful. As if he had the first idea what to do He scowled at Gars serene stone face.

Dont know where you are, or if you can hear me, but just in case? A bit of help about now wouldnt go astray.

Silence. Shadows. The dull beating of his heart.

Right, he said. So thats that. Lucky me, eh? He shook his head. All I ever bloody wanted was a fishin boat of my own

He returned the diary to its hiding place. Magicked the coffin lid back where it belonged. Took a moment to honour Borne and Dana and pull faces at Fane. Tweaked Darrans stone nose, just cause he could. Then, with a final frown at Gar, he doused all but one ball of glimfire and left the royal crypt without it bobbing overhead.

The earlier high cloud cover had cleared, leaving a night full of stars and a fat moon. Theyd not had rain in nearly three weeks. He stared at the humped darkness of the mountains. Even after all this time he sometimes found himself surprised that the golden wash of Barls Wall was absent. If he closed his eyes he could see it, that curtain of magic cutting Lur off from the rest of the world.

If someone had asked him, scant weeks ago, whether he was sorry it was destroyed hed have said Are you bloody daft? Of course not. Without thinking twice. Because until a few weeks ago hed believed life was good, and they were safe, and the future smelled sweet. But that were a few weeks ago. Now the land was losing its balance men like Fernel Pintte were stirrin trouble round the edges and the safety of a kingdom sat fair and square on his shoulders. Again.

And if bein fratched on that means I be bloody petulant, then fine. I can live with bein petulant, Gar. But I aint sure I can live with not bein able to fix whats gone wrong with Lur.

And on that bleak thought, he doused the glimfire and headed back to the Tower.

Dathne woke to the cold kiss of snow on her face.

Asher, she whispered, rolling towards him. Asher, wake up.

He didnt stir. The moonlight shafting through the partly curtained window glittered silver on the flakes of ice falling gently from the grey cloud hed created, dreaming, beneath their bedchambers frescoed ceiling.

Asher, she said again, as the delicate snowflakes danced and drifted and tangled, melting in her hair. Asher.

The first time this happened, in her bedroom above the bookshop, it had changed her life in a heartbeat. Since then the power in his blood had stirred to life many times in his sleep. In dreams he had no defences against it and Weather Magic was the most powerful of all. Waking he could deny it, and did, no matter how hard that was.

But it would notcould notbe denied forever.

She rested her hand on his tense shoulder. Asher. Its snowing. You need to wake up.

He flinched at her touch, his head restless on the pillow. Glinting beneath his tight-closed eyelids, a hint of fresh blood. She had to be careful. She couldnt wrench him awake. Once, shed done that, and had hurt him so badly hed stayed painwracked and bedridden for two long, dreadful days.

Asher can you hear me? she whispered, and stroked her fingertips down his cheek. Come back now. Come back to me. Let it go. Come back.

Her voice always roused him. He always came back, hearing it. At least he always had before. But he wasnt hearing her this time. Even as she watched, she saw his moonlit face twist. Heard his breathing harshen, and deepen, and saw his fingers clutch at their blankets.

Asher, she said, concern sliding towards fright. Please, my love. Please. Wake up.

A gust of cold air swirled round the chamber. The falling snow swirled with it, stinging as it struck her face and lashed her eyes.

And then she nearly screamed, because around their comfortable bed the air was starting to shiver. Something dark and terrible was sliding over her skin. Shed felt this before shed seen it ten years ago

Asher! she cried, and thumped him with both fists, desperate. Asher, youre calling warbeasts! Asher, wake up!

Cruelly wrenched from magic, Asher came clawing awake. No mere hint now, the blood dripped freely from both eyes and his nose, too, splattering the white sheets and fouling his face.

What? What? he said, flailing. I cant see! Whats amiss?

As the air curdled around them, thick with snow and fire, crowded with monstrous shapes taking slow, writhing form, she clapped sharply, twice, and brought thought to life. Flooded their chamber with glimfire, then seized his face between her hands.

Look, Asher! Look! she said, and forced his gaze where she needed it. Stop this. Youre awake now. Stop dreaming.

On a choked cry of pain he jerked free of her tight grasp and sat up. Stared in horror at the warbeasts hed unwittingly summoned.

Luk rana! Rana! he commanded hoarsely, waving one arm. Rana!

The warbeasts vanished, taking the wild snow with them.

Groaning, he fell back to the pillows. Pressed both hands flat to his bloodied face, shaking, each shuddering breath hurting him like knives.

Just as shaken, Dathne slumped beside him, one hand on his shoulder, the other pressed to her heart. Pound any harder and it would pound right through her thin chest.

You all right, Dath? said Asher, muffled, still hiding behind his hands. Those things didnt hurt you?

No, she whispered, and was shamed to hear weeping in the word. Asher what happened? Youve never done that before.

That bloody diary, he said, and let his hands slide. Beneath the smeared blood his face was chalk-white. Reading it stirred me up good and proper, I reckon.

Threading her fingers through his sweaty, disordered hair she bent down and kissed him. Tasted iron and salt, his blood on her tongue. It wasnt your fault.

He shook his head, squinting in the bright glimlight. Seeing that, she dimmed it. Ashamed of herself because less light brought relief. Meant his pain and fright were shadowed. Hidden. She couldnt bear to see him hurting and scared. Shed been so fierce and strong, once but love had made her soft. Sometimes she thought the old Dathne, whod had the visions, whod planned to poison Timon Spake, whod sacrificed everything and everyone in the service of prophecy sometimes she thought that Dathne was a dream.

Course it be my fault, Asher said, always so unforgiving. I called the bloody things, didnt I? Then he grunted, a small sharp sound of pain. Feels like my heads goin to blow right apart.

Oh, Asher She kissed him again. Im sorry. I tried to wake you gently but

You did right. What were needful. He looked at her, and broke her heart. Always feared I might do that some day. Call them warbeasts out of the past. Theyre in me, Dath. Theyre in me and I cant rip em out. What if I call em again? What if I cant stop em next time?

Dont, she said, and pressed her fingers to his blood-smeared lips. Youre tormenting yourself for nowt. Youre strong enough to keep the magic under control. You are. This was one time. One time. There wont be another.

Groaning, he sat up. Wrapped his arms tight around her and buried his face against her neck. Tremors ran through him, born not just of pain, but fear as well. She held him with all the strength in her body, poured all her love into him.

Its all right its all right she murmured. Asher, its all right.

The chamber door flew open, and Rafe barrelled in. You gotta come! he panted. Quick! Deenies having a conniption!

Really, said Lady Marnagh, frowning at her neatly interlaced fingers, I dont have any objection to the proposal, in principle. In principle it seems sensible, and practical, and would certainly ease the workload on the Justice Hall staff. And it does seem to be in keeping with the other changes weve made these past years. She turned a little in her chair. Do you see any spiritual obstacles to the General Councils suggestion, Barlsman Jaffee?

Pellen, comfortably sprawled in his own council chair, kept part of his attention on the elderly Barlsman, who never answered a question quickly when slowly was a choice, and kept the rest of it on Asher. Instead of taking his own place at the table he was slouched at a window, brooding into the palace gardens beyond. Had hardly spoken a word through this entire Mage Council meeting, even when their talk had turned to the Bibford fleetsover-fishing of the waters between Lurs west coast and Dragonteeth Reef.

Something was wrong. Something new? From the look an Ashers face, he thought so. Just what they needed another crisis to be dealt with.

Jaffees wheezing, worse now than it had been a few months ago, sounded loud in the hushed meeting chamber. The Barlsman fingered his long, thin braid of devotion, the gold holyring on his thumb catching fire in the sunlight. Thady and Eylin, seated side by side at the wide Council table, exchanged resigned looks and dropped their chins to their chests. Two years each theyd been Olken representatives on the Mage Council. They knew there was no point trying to hurry Jaffee along.

Rodyn Garrick drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. Of middle height for a Doranen, and less lightly fleshed than most, his pale blue eyes rarely showed warmth. Not a City-born Doranen, hed been elected to the Council from his country estate near Fiddlers Green, where his family grew grapes for icewine.

This is a temporal matter, he said, in his typically clipped way, clearly tired of waiting for Jaffee. The guidelines laid down six centuries ago clearly mandate that any dispute between a Doranen and an Olken must be satisfied in Justice Hall. I see no reason to alter the arrangement.

Cant say I be surprised to hear that, Rodyn, said Asher, not turning from the window. But think on this, why dont you? For six hundred years, justice for Olken folk fratchin with the Doranen has been decided in a place the Doranen built. Crammed floor to ceilin with statues and paintins and whatnot of Barl. Now, theres folk as think it be past time we let go of habits as seem to favour the Doranen over the Olkenand I reckon they might be right.

Given that you ruled in favor of that Olken farmer and against Ain Freidin, said Garrick, I find that comment laughable.

Pellen swallowed a groan. Not again. Rodyn, please. Ain Freidin was in the wrong and she admitted as much. Lets not sidetrack ourselves into pointless dispute. If we could perhaps

Im sorry, but I must protest too, said Lady Marnagh. As Justice Halls administrator I am responsible for its conduct of business. To suggest there has been any unfair dealing is to question my integrity.

Asher flicked her a glance over his shoulder. I aint sayin that, Sarnia.

Then what are you saying?

Im sayin a lot of things were a bloody sight easier when we had a royal family. Borne, or Gar, they made their rulin in Justice Hall and nobody said boo about it causewellwe was all used to em layin down the law. Life aint so tidy now. Thats what Im sayin.

It will only get untidy if we allow it to get untidy, said Garrick. My objection stands. I see no good reason for any change.

Turning away from the window, Asher fixed the Doranen lord with an incredulous stare. Rodyn, be you blind? Theres been nowt but change since the Wall came down. And like it or not, change aint done with us yet. Not by a long shot.

Garricks thin lips pinched. What are you suggesting? That we discard every last tradition? Abandon centuries of established legal precedent and turn Lur into a judicial free-for-all?

Course not, Asher snapped. But we got to face facts, Rodyn. Your good ole days be dead and gone. We got these days to think on now. And I reckon if one of yours and one of mine get emselves in a brangle, whether magic be involved or not, there aint no harm in em tryin to sort it out first and foremost on their own doorsteps, like good neighbours. If they cant Ill sort the problem for em in Justice Hall, same as always. But we ought to give em first crack, I reckon.

Before Garrick could voice an opinion, Jaffee stirred and cleared his throat. Yes, that seems fair, he pronounced, his voice weak and wavering. Blessed Barl never desired to ride roughshod over the Olken people.

Pellen looked at Thady and Eylin. Your thoughts?

They exchanged glances, then Eylin shrugged. I suppose it depends on what you mean, Asher, by sorting it out on their own doorsteps. How certain are we that the Doranen will accept any ruling from an Olken district court?

A ruling agin them, you mean, said Thady dryly. Cant see them complaining about a judgement in their favour.

And you think thats likely, do you? Garrick retorted. An Olken court ruling for a Doranen against one of its own?

Dismayed, Pellen slapped his hand flat to the table. For shame! In this chamber we are sworn to uphold justice for everyone.

True, Pellen, thats our aim, said Eylin. And in this chamber we might, for the most part, be able to forget which of us has dark hair and which of us is blond. But beyond these palace walls, well it isnt always so cut-and-dried.

Shes right, Thady added. I know a mort of folk who believe us Olken wont never stand toe-to-toe with the Doranen until the Doranen yield a time or two.

Folk like Fernel Pintte. Churned with disquiet, Pellen stared at the table. What has been festering in our towns and villages, that Ive not seen? That neither of Lurs Councils have seen? Just how many Fernel Pinttes are out there? He tried to catch Ashers eye, but Asher had turned back to the window. It was clear, at least to him, that the Innocent Mage did not want to be here.

Rodyn Garrick was staring at Thady as though the Citys most prosperous innkeeper, and one of its best mages, had grown another head. Are you serious? he said at last. How have the Doranen not yielded to you, man? Barl save us, weve given back land, weve changed certain laws, we let you do magic, we

Let us? echoed Eylin. You let us? When the magic was always ours? When without Olken earth-singing Barl never wouldve been able to

Now, now, said Jaffee, raising both hands. I see little advantage in raking over the past. Can we not simply agree that

Yes, Barlsman Jaffee, we certainly can agree, said Eylin. A farmer from the Hawshore district, used to wrangling bulls, she had no fear of Barlsmen or any other lofty Doranen. We can agree that while its doubtless difficult for your people to see yourselves knocked off your lofty perches, youd best accept it. As we accepted losing our sovereignty when first you came upon us.

The Doranen saved your lives! spat Garrick. You seem quite eager to forget that small fact.

Tell you what I be eager for, said Asher, mildly enough. I be eager for the lot of you to shut your bloody traps.

Pellen covered his mouth so the others wouldnt see his smile. They looked so shocked. Which was silly, really. How long had they known Asher?

Asher favoured them with his most jaundiced stare. You be talkin claptrap, every one of you. Think I aint heard all this before? When the Wall came down, as we were pickin up the pieces after? Think you be the first folk to try rakin over whats well dead and buried? Six bloody centuries this kingdom rubbed along just fine, pretty much. And now ten years after Morg you want to tear it to pieces?

Of course we dont, said Thady, glowering. But

But? But? Aint no but, said Asher, glowering back at him. Choice is simple, Thady. We get along or we dont. We pull together or we bloody pull apart. Take your pick.

As Thady subsided, silenced, Asher turned on Garrick. As for you, Rodyn. Know who you sound like? Conroyd bloody Jarralt, thats who.

Pellen winced. Low blow, Asher. Further along the table, Sarnia Marnagh paled. Barlsman Jaffee kissed his holyring. And Garrick looked like hed just swallowed a hedgehog, whole.

Youve no right to say such a thing to me, he said, his voice tight with fury.

Dont be daft, said Asher. I got every bloody right. You want I should show you the scars Conroyd left me?

Garricks fingers clenched bloodless. That wasnt Jarralt. That was Morg.

It were both of em, said Asher. I worked alongside Conroyd Jarralt for more than a year. I knew him. He despised us Olken and he enjoyed what Morg did to us. To me. They were cut from the same cloth, them two. Are you cut from it, Rodyn? Are you the kind of Doranen as thinks us Olken are nowt but cattle?

No, hes not, Asher, said Barlsman Jaffee, surprisingly firm. He, Sarnia and I are all Barls children, as devoted to Lur as any Olken, I assure you, and wholeheartedly committed to the causes of unity and peace. Whatever you doubt, I urge you not to doubt that.

Thems pretty words, Barlsman, said Asher, his gaze not leaving Rodyn Garricks cold face. But I reckon theyd be prettier if Id heard em out of Lord Garrick.

Pellen held his breath. Garrick was haughty, true, like most Doranen, but was he really another Jarralt? I hadnt thought so but could be Im wrong. Barl save us all. Fernel Pintte on our side, Rodyn Garrick on theirs. Are we doomed, then? Is peace beyond us?

Garrick cleared his throat. I regret if I misspoke myself, he said stiffly. Barlsman Jaffee has the right of it. Of course I accept the Olken as equals in this land.

Good, said Asher, his eyes so watchful. Reckon I be mighty pleased to hear it.

But I want an admission from you, Asher, Garrick added. I want you to admit that an Olken is as capable of biasof faultas any one of my people. Can you deny that?

Deny it? said Asher, eyebrows lifting. When every day for a bloody year I had that sea-slug Willer Dryskle snappin at my heels? Course I dont deny it, Rodyn. Aint neither of our folks hold all the cards when it comes to bein bloody stupid.

No, said Garrick. No, they do not.

Asher nodded. Then Id say we be fine, Rodyn. He looked at Thady and Eylin. Dont you reckon?

Thady and Eylin nodded, murmuring assent. With that, the almost unbearable tension in the council chamber eased. Pellen looked down to hide his surprised relief, then reached for his quill and notepad.

So, he said, as brisk and as businesslike as he could contrive, were agreed, are we, that the petition for the altering of judicial protocols shall be approved and returned at the next session of the General Council?

They were agreed. And since the petition was the last item listed for discussion, they were also done. But just as he took a breath, ready to declare the meeting adjourned, Barlsman Jaffee raised a cautioning hand.

Forgive me, he said. There is a matter I would like to mention. What it means, Im not entirely sure. Perhaps you will call me alarmist, a foolish old man, but I feel its my duty to speak.

Then speak, said Pellen, as his insides hollowed. Whats concerning you, Barlsman?

Jaffee steepled his knobby-jointed fingers before him, tapped his lips and half-closed his eyes. As you know, my duties as City Barlsman do not end with conducting services in the Chapel. I am called upon to hear secrets and private misgivings, to ease the burdened among us and share with them Barls peace. During this past week I have heard whispers, my friends. Alarming whispers. Four different Olken have told me the same tale. Without betraying names, I would tell you what they said for I confess, Im at a loss.

Pellen didnt dare look at Asher. Please, Barlsman. Continue.

All four told me theyve been disturbed by vivid, frightening dreams, said Jaffee. And terrible feelings that something is wrong. In the earth. He shrugged. I know that sounds odd, but its how they put it. Something wrong in the earth. Of course, being Doranen, I could not share their concerns. Ive prayed for enlightenment, but alas, enlightenment eludes me. They are my spiritual children, and look to me for guidance, and I have none. I dont know what to say. Asher

Pellen dared look at him this time, along with everyone else. Ashers face betrayed nothing. As he still stood by the window, his expression showed only courteous interest.

Aye, Jaffee?

Do you know what they meant? Have you felt anything odd these last few days? Or you, Pellen? Thady? Eylin? Earth-singing is an Olken gift. Have any of you sensed this disturbance?

Only his former life as a City guardsman let Pellen keep his own face strictly schooled. He felt sick. I havent, he said, profoundly relieved it was the truth. He looked at Thady and Eylin. Have you?

Not me, said Thady. Havent heard word of it in the Pig, either. And I hear most things tending bar. See most things, too. More than I want to, generally speaking.

Nor me, said Eylin. Asher, youre the most powerful Olken mage in Lur. What have you felt?

Nowt, said Asher, without a pause.

And Ive heard not a whisper at Justice Hall, said Lady Marnagh. Asher, what of Dathne? Shed tell you, Asher, wouldnt she, if she felt anything odd?

Course she would, Sarnia. But she aint, Asher said, smooth as custard. So I cant tell you what it means, Barlsman. Sorry.

Frowning, Jaffee unsteepled his fingers and fiddled with his Barlsbraid. No need to apologise. I suppose its possible these Olken simply imagined things.

Or had one ale too many in someone elses inn, said Asher, raising an eyebrow at Thady. Where the brew be inferior.

It is odd, though, isnt it? said Eylin. Asher, are you quite sure you or Dathne havent

I told you. Im sure, said Asher, scowling. Reckon Im like to keep news like that to mself? Reckon I wouldnt run here squawkin to you lot if I had an inklin there were somethin wrong with Lur?

No, no, of course you would, Eylin said hastily.

Pellen swallowed a groan. Asher, Asher if they ever find out I think the thing to do is wait and see, he suggested. More than likely its nothing. Some odd quirk of nature. Lur is as prosperous and fruitful as its ever been. Theres no hint of that changing. But naturally, should you hear any more about these feelings, Barlsman Jaffeeif any of us hears somethingwe should convene again at once. Agreed?

His fellow Olken nodded. Then Rodyn Garrick tapped a thoughtful finger on the table. And if its not nothing? What then?

Then obviously we address the problem, quickly and discreetly, said Lady Marnagh. This Mage Council is charged with maintaining the kingdoms safety. I dont think the matter should be discussed outside this chamber. Nor should any of us pursue independent enquiry, for fear of alarming people. Asher

Sarnia? said Asher, exquisitely polite.

I dont begin to understand your particular mage powers but is it possible for you toto seek out thisthis wrongness of which Jaffee speaks?

I spose, said Asher. Aint done nowt like that afore, but I spose I can try if the Council reckons it be needful.

So casual, he was. So unconcerned at least on the surface. Pellen found himself marvelling. But then, he always was a good liar.

I think its an excellent suggestion, said Jaffee, bestowing upon Lady Marnagh an approving smile. For I have no doubt that if anyone can plumb the heart of this mystery, its our Innocent Mage.

Pellen, still watching Asher, saw his jaw tighten. Dont bite Jaffee. Please dont. One brawl is enough to be going on with.

Like I said, Ill try, said Asher. Only dont get your hopes up. Sometimes things just happen and there aint never a reason why. Guess we just got to trust that thingsll work out, one way or another.

Indeed, said Jaffee solemnly. Faith is the wind that lifts our wings.

Asher blinked. Aye.

All right, Pellen said, quickly. If there are no other matters to be raised? Then were done.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The council chamber emptied quickly after that, until only he and Asher were left. Getting up, Pellen pushed the door closed, then turned and considered his difficult friend.

What? said Asher, meeting his eloquent stare. You think I were goin to tell em? Ha! Sink that.

Profoundly troubled, Pellen returned to his chair. Asherkeeping your own counsel unprovoked is one thing, he said, toying with his quill. But they raised the issue of trouble stirring, and you looked them in their faces and lied. If they find out you lied do you honestly think theyll forgive it? Its ten years since you saved Lur, my friend. I suspect your currency as the Innocent Mage is not unlimited.

Shoulder propped against the chamber wall, Asher grunted. Dont need it to be bloody unlimited, do I? Its only got to last till Lurs sailin sweet again.

And how long will that be? Do you know?

Asher said nothing. Something dangerous seethed beneath his skin. Eyeing him askance, Pellen decided to ease the tension by changing the subject. At least for the moment. Tell me, he said, tossing the quill aside and sitting back. Do you trust Rodyn Garricks easy capitulation over these Justice Hall changes?

Ha, said Asher. I dont trust Rodyn Garrick. Ill stick a harpoon through my right eye afore Ill believe he reckons Olken and Doranen be equals.

Well, Im not sure Id go that far, but after the way he carried on about you censuring Ain Freidin He drummed his fingers on the table. So whats behind this uncharacteristic docility?

Indigestion? Asher suggested, trying to smile. And there again, that dark, unwelcome hint of dire trouble. Hes Rodyn bloody Garrick, Pellen. Who knows what hes thinkin? I dont reckon to fret on it over-much. Not while we got him under our noses here in Council.

I suppose, he agreed, reluctant. He just makes me uneasy.

Instead of answering, Asher folded his arms and stared at the floor. Pellen, considering him, felt all kinds of misgivings stirred by the disquiet in his friends face.

What is it? he asked. Youve been distractedupsetsince you walked in here. Whats happened?

Asher sighed. Reckon you really dont want to know.

Actually, reckon I really do, he retorted. Sometimes I think you forget who I am, Asher, and who Im answerable to.

I bloody dont! said Asher, stung.

Really? Then prove it. Tell me whats going on.

For the first time that morning Asher sat in his customary council chair. Propped his elbows on the table and scrubbed his hands across his face. He looked exhausted. Almost defeated.

Abruptly and coldly sick, Pellen felt his skin crawl. The diary? You read the diary?

Aye, said Asher, sounding tired. And it aint no bloody use to us. What Gar translated, its just warspells and personal witterings. The spell that killed Morg. Nowt on the Wall or the Weather Magic or such-like. Nowt to explain whats stirrin under our feet. Nowt on how Im sposed to save us from it.

He was so bitter. And who could blame him? The weight of a kingdom was forcing him to his knees. I agree, thats a blow, he said, with care. But we cant fall in a heap.

Why not? Asher muttered. Fall in a heap, stand on our heads, turn bloody cartwheels down the length of the High Streetfor all I know thats as good a way as any to get us out of this strife.

Oh, Asher. Pellen slapped the table. No. I refuse to believe we cant find a cure for whats ailing our kingdom. What about Durm? He was the Master Magician; he guided Borne in his WeatherWorking for all those years. Those books of his you spoke of, the ones you keep hidden in your library. Surely theres something there we can use? He mustve left behind some kind of Weather Magic instructions or

But Asher was shaking his head again. When it comes to Weather-Working there were only one of his books seemed it might be useful. I got Barslman Holze to look at it for me, not long after the Wall fell. But he couldnt make head or tail of it any more than me. Bloody things writ in some stupid code, Pellen, squiggles and chicken scratchins. A load of bloody nonsense. Everythin to do with WeatherWorkin Durm kept secret. Just like he never said who he wanted followin him as Master Magician. Him and Borne, they were spit scared of another schism. So they never shared nowt.

Pellen breathed out a slow sigh. I suppose they never dreamed things could ever go so wrong, he murmured. And who can blame them? Only one man ever did.

Aye, well, that bloody Jervale didnt finish the job, did he? said Asher, surly. Pity he didnt stay asleep long enough to dream the rest of what could go arse over tits around here. Reckon my life might be a sinkin sight easier if he had.

It was tempting to sympathise with him, but theyd make no progress moaning over what couldnt be changed. Theres nothing on the walls of the Weather Chamber that will help?

I dont reckon so. Ill look again, but Asher groaned his frustration. I dont know what to do, Pellen. I know I be the only one who can fix this, but I dont bloody know how.

Yes, you do, he said quietly. Its in you somewhere, Asher. Buried deep, perhaps, but its there. All the Weather Magic that was put into you, somewhere in there is the answer. It must be.

Asher shoved out of his chair. You dont know that! he snapped, pacing angrily, fists shoved in his pockets. I dont know it and Im the one who got that bloody magic stuffed down his gullet!

I know it because Barl was no fool, he retorted. Everything the WeatherWorker needed to know she put in her magic, Asher, Id stake my life on that. Why else would she not leave any instructions behind? All you have to do is look for it. Stop fighting who and what you are, and insteadembrace it. Open your heart and your mind and seek the answer inside you. Youll find it. By all I hold dear, Ill wager its there.

Just like that, eh? said Asher, still pacing. So you reckon its a doddle? An easy peasy piece of piss?

I never called it easy, he said. But I think you make it harder than it need be. Did anyone have to teach you how to summon the rain? How to make it snow, or stir the wind? No. The knowledge was in you. Its still in you. Asher, you can do this.

Aye, Pellen, mayhap I can! Asher shouted, turning. But I dont bloody want to! Ive spent ten years tryin to forget what I know!

Yes, well, I think thats my point! he snapped, nearly pushed to shouting himself. And forgive me if this sounds blunt and unfriendly, but Im of the opinion youve no right to forget it. Fair or not, Asher, you are who you are and you dont have the luxury of putting the rest of us in danger just because

Asher leapt towards him. Snatched the nearest empty chair and slammed it down hard on the chambers parquetry floor. Pellen Orrick, youre a sinkin bloody fool! Flappin your lips when you know nowt about nowt! Care to guess what I did last night, Meister Mayor? Meister Mayor who cant even sprout wheat seeds? While I were asleep, with my wife beside me and my son and my daughter but a few steps away? I summoned warbeasts. I nearly killed em. Dath and Rafe and little Deenie, who mean more to me than anythin. I nearly killed em with the magic thats in me. All I did were read Barls bloody diary, and that stirred me up enough that I summoned warbeasts in my sleep. So are you really goin to sit there and lecture me on how I dont have the sinkin luxury of not wantin to wake what I got sleepin in my blood?

Stunned, Pellen stared at him. Stared at the terror and the tears in his eyes and was flooded with pity and horror and hot, hot shame. AsherIm sorry, I didnt

And Deenie felt it, said Asher, heedless. Wrenched himself away and started pacing again, staggering almost, buffeted by a depth of feeling he had never before revealed. And she screamed. Oh, Pellen, she bloody screamed. If youd heard her, my little Deenie, screamin cause of the warbeasts I called, cause she could feel em in me. I never knew she could do that, feel magic in folk. But she can. She never told us, but that be somethin she can do. Breathing harshly, he fetched up against the chamber window. Flung out one hand to brace himself, and let his face fall into the crook of his elbow. She can feel there be somethin wrong in the earth, too, he said dully. She can feel all of it. Reckon I poisoned her with that. Me and my bloody magic.

Pellen tried to speak. Had to clear his throat. Asher, you dont know that.

Course I do, Asher whispered. Aint no other Olken who can do Doranen magic, is there? Well, there aint no Olken Daths ever heard of who can sense magic the way Deenie can. Course it be my fault. Cant be nobody elses.

All right, he said at last, not quite certain of his voice. Perhaps thats true. Perhaps thisthis ability did come from you. But why do you call it a poison? Why not call it a gift?

Gift? said Asher and laughed, with such scorn. If youd heard her screamin, Pellen, you wouldnt call it a gift. Turning abruptly, shoulders hitting the wall, he let himself slide until he was sat on the floor. It aint a gift. Its a bloody curse.

Heartsick, he nodded. Yes. Yes, I can see that. Im sorry, Asher. II dont know what else to say.

Asher dragged an unsteady hand down his face. Theres nowt you can say, Pellen. Nowt to say, nowt to do.

Youre right. Its awful, he said. And I hope you know Id cut off my other leg to spare you and Dathne such grief. To spare Deenie the grief He looked down at the table. Hating himself, even as he knew he had to say it. But its something apart from what this kingdom is facing. And Im sorry, Im sorry, but you cant let it interfere. Weve run out of time.

I know, said Asher, after a long silence, letting his head tip back against the wall. Why dyou reckon Im so bloody fratched?

We may have a little grace left to us, but we cant, we mustnt, count on much, he added. You fobbed off Jaffee and the others well enough today, but what about tomorrow? Or next week? Other Olken are bound to confide their fears in our revered Barlsman. Its what hes there for. Or Thady will overhear something, tending his bar. And whatever it is thats churning in the earth, if it gets any worse, if it gets any louderthen could be even folk as magic-deaf as I am will start to hear it. And then He felt his mouth dry. I think things will be worse even than when the Wall fell.

Reckon I dont know that too, Pellen? said Asher, caustic. I do. All right? I know.

And still bitterly resented being pushed towards the inevitable. But that was just too bad. It couldnt matter that Asher didnt want this. All that mattered was that he did what had to be done.

And its not as if this time were asking him to die

Thrusting aside any lingering guilt, Pellen cleared his throat again. Asher

Asher looked up, his face so stark that seeing it was like a blow from a clenched fist. I know what you reckon I should do, he said, his voice ragged. You reckon I should go back to the Weather Chamber and WeatherWork our way out of this mess. Either fix that bloody Weather map somehow so it keeps on doin what its been doin for centuriesor finish the job Morg started so Lur can start afresh, proper, like we thought it did already. Eh? Aint that what you want, Pellen?

Doused with fresh shame, defiant because of it, he nodded. Yes. This land is my home. Its my daughters home. Thanks to Morg its the only home were ever going to have. And I want you to save it. Im sorry, but I do.

Course you do, said Asher, and stared into the distance at something awful that only he could see. But heres the thing. If I work the Weather Magic, Deenies goin to feel it. It bloody nearly kills me, Pellen. You know that. So what dyou reckon itll do to her, eh? Eight years old? A little girl? If you was me, and it were Charis, what would you do? Would you kill your little girl to save this kingdom?

He couldnt speak. Could hardly breathe. The ugly question hung between them, unanswered. Unanswerable.

Aye, said Asher, and clambered awkwardly to his feet. Thats what I thought.

The chamber door closed very gently behind him.

Dathne sat in the garden that used to be Gars private bower, the one he and Fane had destroyed with fury and glimfire, and tried to ease her jangled nerves by embroidering a small tapestry. The sunlight warmly caressed her skin, a welcome simplicity after the nights cold terrors. Remembering, she jabbed the needle into her finger. Sucked at the ruby-red bead of blood, softly swearing, then thrust aside the awfulness, just as shed thrust aside so many bloodied, haunting memories.

She was getting very good at doing that.

With a sigh, she considered the tapestry. A pity Im not getting good at this too. But such sedate pursuits had never been her strong point. Business and books and herblore and visions. Bossing people. Those were her talents. Or had been, once. Teaching. She was good at teaching. In the first years following the Walls destruction it had meant everything to her, passing along to Olken children what she knew of Olken magic and its ways. Telling them their history. Making sure they knew the truth, when the truth was still new and imperfectly known.

But now everybody knew it. Lurs history was taught in every school and chapel these days. Nothing hidden. No more secrets.

Well. No more but one.

And suddenly the sunlight lost its caressing warmth and she was shivering, once more burdened with shadowed knowledge.

I thought it was over. It was meant to be over.

Hey now, said Asher, dropping to the stone bench beside her. Appearing when he was needed most, like always. Blindly she turned to him, embroidery hoop dropping heedless to the grass, and blindly she hid her cold face against his chest.

I know, I know, he said, rocking her. I know, Dath. I know.

And he did know. It was her only solace, that in her pain for her children she wasnt alone.

The bowers carefully nurtured flowers scented the air sweet and fresh. Bees droned sleepily, and in the branches of the fussy tarla tree small green titbirds bobbed and chirped. Early spring was upon them, and Lur was reborn. Calming, she eased herself free of Ashers tight, almost suffocating embrace. Caught sight of his face and lost her breathing again.

What? Did something happen in Council?

Aye, ymight say that. His voice was low, his eyes miserable. Seems there be folk talkin to Jaffee about funny things theyve felt. He told the Council and now they all know somethins wrong.

And what else? Because she knew there was something else. She knew every mood in him, every twist and turn of his heart.

I lied to em, Dath, he said. Told em I aint felt a bloody thing. They believed me for now, but He shook his head. That wont last long. Thady and Eylin aint felt it yet, but once they do they wont believe their precious Innocent Mage cant feel it. Rodyn Garrick neither, nor any other Doranen. So

So. She knew what that meant. WeatherWorking. Frozen, untouchable by sunlight or any warmth, she slithered off the garden seat and backed away. You cant. What about Deenie? Shell feel it. Asher, shes too young to feel that.

Instead of answering, he picked up her embroidery hoop and stared at her tapestry. A fishing boat on the ocean. Her own design; shed meant it as a surprise. Washed in sunshine he touched her tiny blue stitches with the tip of one scarred finger. Almost, almost, his lips quirked in a smile.

She could have stamped her foot like a child in a tantrum. Asher! Are you listening? I wont let you do it. I wont let you hurt our daughter.

Dont be daft, Dathne, he said, and tossed the tapestry to the seat. I aint about to hurt Deenie.

How can you not hurt her? she retorted. You hurt her last night. I know you didnt mean to, but you did. And itll be a thousand times worse with full blown Weather Magic, you know it will.

He nodded. Aye. I do.

Well, then?

Well, then, Dath, he said, meeting her fury without flinching, reckon youll have to do somethin about that.

Me do something? What are you Choking, she stared at him. She knew him too well. I cant. Have you gone mad?

Maybe, he said, his eyebrows pulling low. But I cant see another way round it. Can you?

You want me to drug her? So you can do Weather Magic?

Still his steady gaze held hers. Time was you were willin to murder a man with drugs, for less.

He might as well have punched her. Winded, she dropped to the neatly clipped grass. Asher

Then he was on his knees gripping her shoulders, holding her up. Think I want to, Dath? he demanded hoarsely. You reckon this be easy for me to think on? I aint got no choiceand neither do you. Whatevers brewin with the weather, woman, either I nip it in the bud, tonight, or what weve built these last ten years comes tumblin down around our ears.

She could feel herself weeping, hot tears on her frozen face. You dont know that. You cant be sure.

Im sure! he said, shaking her. And so are you. He shook her again, his face twisted with anguish and anger. You started this, Dathne. You made me the Innocent Mage. Now I got to finish it. For Deenie and Rafel. For all of us.

She struck his broad chest with her fist over and over again. Nodding. Sobbing. I know. I know.

Oh, Dath, he groaned, and snatched her to him. Buried his face against her neck. Well be all right. We will. I promise.

She wanted to believe him, so hard she hurt. But she knew, just as he did, that where Barl and the Weather Magic were concerned promises were no more to be trusted than glimfire in a rising wind.

So, Rafe, how was school today?

Shrugging, Rafel shoved his spinach round and round his dinner plate with his fork. Mama was trying to sound interested. She was trying to sound bright and happy, like there was nowt a thing wrong. It made him cross cause something was wrong all right. The tension in the solars air made him want to shout and stamp.

I aint a tiddy mouse like Deenie. I aint deaf or blind or addled like Jed. She shouldnt pretend. Thats wrong. Its like lying.

Rafel? said Mama. Did you hear me? How was

It was fine. It was school, he said, almost a grunt. And that was all he wanted to say. He didnt want to tell anyone about what had happened. What hed done. The thing that made him feel small and dirty, worse even than when he was prickled with guilt for his terrible secret.

Rafe, said Da sharply. Dont take that tone with your ma. And you look at her when she asks you a question. And mind you eat your bloody spinach. It be food, it aint for playin with.

Burning with resentment, he glared sideways at Da from beneath his lowered lashes then dropped his fork to the plate. I dont want my spinach. Im full.

You be full when the plates empty, said Da. Eat up, I said.

Mama sighed. Asher

Eyes big and round, Deenie started to cry. Not a loud boo-hooing, just a few trickly tears, but still. Da threw down his napkin, shoved his chair back and stamped over to the solar window to glare down into the Tower gardens far below. He always stared out of a window when he was fratched, so all anyone could see of him was the back of his head. He didnt like it when people could read his thoughts in his face.

Asher, Mama said again, but it sounded almost like a question. Almost like she was frighted. But why would Mama be frighted?

At the window, Da nodded. Aye.

Rafel watched, his insides shivery, as Mama got up from the table leaving most of her roast duck and baked carrots and buttery spinach behind. She went to Deenie, her face pinched up and not saying things, and pulled his sisters chair away from the table. Then she held out her arms and let Deenie clamber into them, the way she used to when his sister was a little sprat.

Hush, Deenie, dont cry, Mama said, as Deenie hiccupped into her sunshine yellow blouse. Bedtime, mouse. You didnt get much sleep last night.

Remembering last night, Rafel felt his insides shiver again. Last night was horrible. Today was horrible too. Everything was horrible. He wanted to cry.

Mama took Deenie over to Da, and Da turned away from the window and tickled the back of her neck in the way that made her giggle. But Deenie didnt giggle this time. Instead she reached for him and tried to climb into his arms.

No, no, mouse, said Mama, holding her back. Da cant cuddle you now. Hes got work to do. Hellhell cuddle you in the morning. Asher

Da slid a finger under Deenies chin and tipped her head up. Dont you be fratchin your ma, little sprat, he said, pretending he was all stern and scowly. Then he smiled, except not with his eyes. His eyes were awful, old and sad. Bending, he kissed the tip of Deenies nose. Off to bed, mouse. Sleep tight. Dont you let them bedbugs bite.

More fat wobbly tears were rolling down Deenies cheeks. I dont feel good, Da, she whimpered. I feel bad She banged her skinny chest. In here.

I know, said Da. It was nearly a whisper. But youll feel better soon, Deenie. I promise.

Mama took Deenie out of the solar, and Da turned his back on the room again. Looking at him, Rafel saw how his head drooped and his shoulders slumped like he was so sad he couldnt stand up straight. He felt his throat go tight. His nose tingled, and his eyes prickled hard. Not knowing what else to do, he picked up his fork and poked it into the hated spinach.

Never mind that, Rafe, said Da. Truth be told, I dont much like spinach neither.

He let the fork drop again. Didnt meant to fratch you, Da, he said, having to choke the words out. Didnt mean to fratch Mama, either.

Da held out one arm, an invitation. Rafel went to him, flooded with relief. Before he could blink it away a fat tear of his own wobbled out of his eye.

What happened at school today, Rafe? Da asked, his voice quiet, his strong arm holding him close.

He shrugged. Nowt, Da. It was just school.

Rafe

Squirming, he kicked at the wall under the window. Das arm tightened.

Dont do that. Just tell me what happened.

Nowt. Justpoxy Arlin Garrick, he muttered. Being poxy. Like he is. We had a brangle. I didnt touch him, Da! he added hastily. Promise!

To his surprise, Da laughed a bit. Like father, like son, eh? he said, almost to himself. Thatd be right. So what happened, Rafe? All of it, mind. No leavin bits out.

He heaved a deep sigh. Arlin was doing magic. At nuncheon. In the yard, under the big tree. Meister Vyne cant see that bit from the schoolhouse. Arlin was showing off, Da, just like he always does. Da, he was calling boggles.

Boggles? said Da.

You know, he said, impatient. Frighty things. He was making em up with magic. Like I said, showing off. As if hes the only one who can do it. I can do it. Ive done it lots and mine are a hundred times scarier than his. Da, he was going to skitter them over the hedge into the girls school next door.

Da stared down at him. Rafel what did you do?

He nearly kicked at the wall again. II popped em. Wasnt hard. Arlins magic aint that fancy. Feeling his fathers arm go rigid, like wood, he looked up. I had to, Da. Boggles are

Rafe, said Da, his face and voice terrible. You tangled Doranen magic? Regular Olken cant do that! You know you ainthow many bloody times have I said

Arlin never guessed it was me! he protested. Honest, Da. Promise. But He stopped, suddenly aware that hed said more than enough.

Too late. But what? said Da, and gave his shoulder a hard shake. Rafel, didnt I just tell you not to leave bits out?

He shoved his hands in his pockets. I laughed. When the boggles popped. I couldnt help it, Da, Arlin looked so fratched. And when he couldnt make em come back again hehe looked like to poop his trousers, he was so cross. And doesnt it serve him right? He was going to set them boggles on the girls, he

Aye, Rafe, I heard you the first time, said Da, his voice still growly. What happened after you laughed at Arlin?

He shrugged. Not much.

Rafe.

This was the bad bit. The bit he didnt want to say. He didnt care if he got a wallop for popping the boggles and he didnt care if Da fratched on at him about not doing magic. He didnt even care if he got stopped giving Stag his supper apple for a week. Two weeks. Jed would give it to him, so Stag wouldnt miss out.

But he did care about telling Da what Arlin Garrick had said.

Rafe, Da said again, in the voice that meant all his patience was used up. What did the pimply little shit do?

He just said things, he whispered, squirming. Lies.

Da was silent for a long time. Then he sighed. About me?

He nodded. He couldnt trust himself to speak. His nose was running now, and the solar had gone blurry.

Rafe Da dropped to a crouch in front of him. We talked on this already, sprat, he said, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder. Folk say things. You cant stop em. It aint bloody fair but theres nowt to be done about it.

Rafel folded his arms tight, shaking his head. How could Da say that? How could he not care?

If hed heard what Arlin said, that he was as good as a murderer, getting King Gar killed like that, and how he was only an Olken, and how could an Olken destroy a great Doranen mage like Morg? Some Doranen mustve helped him, and then he did something to make em forget, so he wasnt really a hero after all. If Da heard Arlin say all that

Reckon I care what some Doranen spratlin witters? Da asked gent ly, and patted him on the cheek. Trust me, Rafel: I dont care a bloody bit.

He sniffed. Why not, Da? Why dont you care?

Da fell silent, his gaze shifting sideways, which always happened when he remembered bad things. Cause I dont. Cause some things aint worth botherin about, he said at last. One day, when you be older, Ill tell you the full story of what happened the day Morg died. Then youll know why I dont care about Arlin Garrick, or his da, or any other bloody Doranenor Olkenwhat snivels behind my back. And you wont neither.

You could tell me now, he said, hopeful. That ole Darran told me some of it, but I want to know the rest.

Das face went all stern. I know you do, Rafe. But you aint ready for it.

He was, he was. Da had no idea what he was ready for. What he could do. Yes, I am, he protested. Da

Sprat, you got to learn to swallow no for an answer so it dont gripe your belly, Da snapped. Ive said you aint ready and thats the end of it. He sighed again. So, you popped Arlins boggles, and laughed when he were upset. That fratched him to say some things about me what riled you up. Then what?

And then Goose had leapt to Das defence, calling Arlin Garrick a poxy, cross-eyed, split-arsed moo. So Arlin Garricks best friend Trentham Villot called Gooses da a hop-rotted beersot, which didnt sound awful bad unless you were Meister of the Brewers Guild.

So then Goose and Trentham started brangling, fists and boots, and Meister Vyne came running out, and in the end Goose got his backside caned and so did Trentham Villot, and that wasnt bloody fair at all.

Did you own up as how you started it? said Da. You and Arlin?

I tried to, Da, but Meister Vyne wouldnt listen. Arlin just laughed. He didnt care Trentham got walloped for him.

What about Goose? said Da. Spose he aint talkin to you now, is that it?

That was the thing, almost as bad as the lies Arlin told about Da. No. He said not to fratch on it. He saidhe said

And then, just like Deenie would, he broke into sobs. Dont matter, Goose had said, his voice scratchy after yellin from the cane, and his watery eyes red. One day youll stand up for me, I know you will. Cause were friends, you and me, Rafe, and thats what friends do.

So you learned a hard lesson today, said Da, holding him close again. You got a friend in strife cause you let your temper ride you. Best you not let that happen again, eh?

Muffled against Das weskit, he nodded. I wont, Da. Promise. Then he wriggled a bit, till he could see his fathers face. But I wish

What? said Da. There was the tiniest glint in his eye. That you could smash that Arlin Garrick flat with your magic?

It was shameful, but he nodded. Aye, he whispered. Aye, I surely do.

Da pinched the end of his nose. Reckon I dont know that, sprat? Reckon I aint had that feelin mself, once or twice?

Because Da didnt sound cross, he risked a big question. When you killed Morg, Da. Did you want to? Did itdid it feel good?

Sink me bloody sideways, Rafe Da let go of him and stood, turning to the window. The things you ask. Aye, he said, after a long time. I wanted to kill him. He were evil through and through. But it didnt feel good, Rafel, cause I werent just killin him. Two other men died with him and neither deserved it. You want to think on that, sprat, when you find yself wishin you could pop poxy Arlin Garrick with your magic. Think on that, and think on poor ole Goose with his caned backside. Aint nowt in the world as magicll make simpler. All magic does is tangle things up.

Aye, Da, he said, because he knew it was expected. But he didnt really believe it. Everywhere in the City, throughout Lur, magic made their lives simpler. If it was so terrible no-one would use it, would they?

So heres what I reckon, said Da, looking over his shoulder. I reckon it werent just fratchin with Arlin thats got you riled, Rafe. Them boggles he called they made you think of last night, eh?

Last night. He didnt want to talk on that. Didnt want to remember Deenie screaming. Running into his bedchamber and screaming about monsters and the twisting earth and a man with green-gold eyes and red hair, crying tears of blood in a river.

You aint to fret on that, said Da. Theres nowt will hurt you in this Tower, Rafe. Nowt to hurt you anywhere in Lur. You or Deenie. I wont let it. You hear me?

Aye, he said, nodding.

And dyou believe me?

He wanted to. But last night Deenie screamed that Da was frighted, that he was hurt near bad enough to die. And Deenie could feel things. He knew that now. She could feel things that were true.

If Da cant protect himself, how can he protect us?

Rafe? said Da. He sounded hurt and surprised. Dont you believe me?

Course I do, he said quickly. I believe you, Da. You and Mama wont let nowt happen to us.

Aye, said Da, and tousled his hair. Thats right. He let his hand drop. Now, I got me some work to do, sprat. Time you paddled a bit in your bath then got yself warm and dry into bed. Off you toddle. Ill see you right as rain in the mornin, eh?

Da had to work? But it was late. Outside the solar window the night-birds were singing, and stars were sprinkled across the sky. Da had been at work all day. It didnt seem fair he had to work at night too.

What kind of work, Da? he said. Can I help?

Da smiled. That be a kind thought, Rafe, but no. You got your own work, I reckonscrubbin them sproutin spuds out of your ears.

I aint got spuds, Da, he protested. I never once had a spud!

Aye, well, there be a first time for everythin, said Da. Now off you go.

But what about Stag? he said, remembering. He hasnt had his supper apple.

Ill give it him tonight, Rafe. Again, Da tousled his hair, then reached down and swatted him lightly. Run along.

With Deenie all fratched theyd not finished dinner. Cooks peach pie was sat on the sideboard, not a bite of it taken, sweet and ready to eat.

Da saw him looking at it, and smiled a tiddy bit. Aye, snatch a slice. But dont tell your ma, with yspinach not eaten. Cause if she finds out Ill say I aint had nowt to do with it.

Shell never know, Da, he said, grinning. Promise.

Da snorted. Shell bloody know when she sees a piece of pie missin.

That made him giggle. But even though Da was joking, underneath that he was serious. And even though he was smiling, his eyes were still sad.

Night, Da, he whispered, throwing his arms tight around his father. You sleep well, eh? Dont you let them bedbugs bite.

Das arms closed round him so hard, for a moment, all the bits inside him felt squashed. Aye, sprat. You too.

The first bite of filched peach pie exploded in his mouth like summer. Halfway to the solar door he spun on his heel, mouth open to tell Da it was wonderful, he should have a piece. But he didnt say it. He didnt say anything. Da was turned mostly towards the window again, a thin slice of his face showing like a rind of new moon. And that thin slice of face was so grim, and so sad

The peach pie turned to cold wood-ash on his tongue, Rafel trudged downstairs to his privy bathroom, opened the window and threw the rest out.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Seated in his favourite wingback chair, Rodyn Garrick watched his good friend Sarle Baden hold his brandy glass up to the warm, leaping firelight. A fine drop, Sarle said, approving. Your cellar is second to none.

It was true. He prided himself on the quality of his wines, his liquors. How could he not? With his vineyards and his palate, with his reputation, he could serve only the best.

Sarle swallowed heartilyit was his least attractive traitthen cast a frowning glance at the library door. Youre sure well not be disturbed, Rodyn?

It was late. The house was quiet. His servants were banished to their cellar and attic, and his son knew better than to wander from his bed.

He nodded. Quite sure.

Good, said Sarle, relaxing in his own chair. And so to business. Ain is making excellent progress.

Id be surprised if she were not, he said. Shes a talent, that woman. Not another Barl, of course, but neverthelessshes a find. Im thinking He tapped a finger to his lips. She could well prove the right tutor for Arlin. I shall speak with her.

Really? said Sarle, not hiding his surprise. Rodyn, I know the boys gifted but hes young for

Arlin will achieve the tasks set before him, he said, and took a restrained sip from his glass. Hes a child in years only. In potential, he is He smiled. Ageless.

Sarle frowned. Yes. Well. Hes your son, Rodyn. Im sure you know best.

I do, he said. Now tell meis Ain certain therell be no more trouble with her clod of a neighbour?

Shes learned her lesson, said Sarle. Her workshops are warded beyond all risk of leakage. And detection by that fool your Mage Council sent, who is still watching and waiting to catch her out. He sniffed. A pity you couldnt over-rule Asher on that.

Rodyn kept his expression mild. To achieve his ambition he needed Sarles assistance. That obliged him to swallow impertinencethough with far less pleasure than Sarle guzzled his brandy.

Yes, he said. A great pity. But given our plans, Sarle, its prudent not to stir the bastards suspicions. Its enough he decided not to push the matter of Barls Laws.

He has no inkling of what were about?

None, he said, smiling. Im playing him sweet for now. He can think our clash of wills over Ain has put me on the back foot. I care naught for his opinion.

Wood popped and crackled in the fireplace. Sarle drained his glass and set it aside. Quite right. But in that case, Rodyn, whats got you frowning?

Really? Was I frowning? he said lightly, displeased that hed betrayed himself. Its not the company, I assure you.

Then what is it? said Sarle, holding one thin hand out to the fires warmth. Idly stirring the flames with his mind so they leapt higher and hotter. Was this mornings Mage Council so irritating?

As much as he confided in anyone, he confided in Sarle. No, he said slowly. But I have this small suspicion Asher lied to us today.

Sarle leaned forward. About what?

That old fool Jaffee made mention of Olken coming to him claiming they felt a disturbance in the earth, he said. When asked, Asher said hed not felt a thing. He pursed his lips. I cant put my finger on it, precisely, but there was something about the way he said it. A look in his eye.

Sarle laughed, disbelieving. You let yourself be disquieted by the Olken? Rodyn, my dear friend, are you not feeling well? The Olken are no better than infants startling at their own shadows. A disturbance in the earth? A disturbance in their bowels, more like. You know they will insist on guzzling ale by the barrel. And as for Ashersurely hes far too conscious of his exalted status as Lurs saviour to risk it with blatant dishonesty. Lying to the Mage Council? He sneered. The bastard doesnt have the guts.

Amused, Rodyn refreshed their brandy glasses then rested one arm along the fireplaces mantel. I expect youre right, Sarle. I expect I imagined it. Now tell mehow proceeded your meeting with Artin Moyne?

Sarles affronted temper vanished. Very well. Hes interested, Rodyn. Hes definitely sympathetic to our cause.

And that was very good news. Artin Moyne had influence. And their cause, so vital, so all-consuming, required every Doranen voice they could find. As it stood now, far too few of their people comprehended what needed to be done, or were willing to contemplate the drastic action of which he dreamed. Lurs Doranen were too comfortable. Complacent. Life in this borrowed place had softened their sinews.

But I shall change that. It will take timebut I have the time. And the resources. I do not care how long it takesI will make this dream come true.

Moyne expressed no hesitation? No doubt?

None, said Sarle, promptly. He agrees with us, as I said he would. Hell do whatever he can to discreetly further our plans.

Rodyn felt his satisfaction expand on a warm cloud of expensive brandy. Excellent, Sarle. Slowly but surely, we proceed towards our goal.

We do indeed, said Sarle, and raised his glass in a toast. Heres to our success, my friend. Heres to the day we quit Lur once and for alland the day that will surely follow it, when we set foot in our true home. Lost Dorana.

To Lost Dorana, he echoed, raising his own glass. And to those of us with the wit and wisdom to find it.

Asher thought Dath would hear him, coming into Deenies room, but she didnt stir as he crossed the threshold. Deenie, breathing deeply, was curled beneath her green-and-white striped blankets. The glimlamp on the bedside table was set to burn low. The room was cosy, comfortable, pink-frilled for his little girl. Standing beside the glimlamp an emptied glass, smeared with the dregs of the posset Dathne had brewed. Sleep-well, shed called it. A promise of dreams.

She farin all right? he asked, lingering in the shadows. Afraid, if Dathne looked at him, of what hed see in her eyes.

Yes, said Dathne softly. She didnt sound angry. That were something, at least. If the Tower fell down around our ears I doubt shed hear it. Shell not stir till afternoon tomorrow, at least. I made doubly sure.

Dath He had to stop. Wait. His voice was a traitor. If there were any other way

She shrugged one shoulder at him. Shut up, that meant. So she might not sound angry, but that didnt mean she werent feelin it.

Best he not finish what he was going to say, then. Best he tread careful, since the ice was thin between them. Reckon I be goin now, he said instead. Dont know how long thisll take.

Her fingertips smoothed a lock of hair from Deenies flushed cheek. I should come with you.

Aint no need, he said. Aint nowt you can do, Dath. Sides, you be wanted here with Deenie.

Youve no business working Weather Magic on your own.

I did it mostly on my own before. I be used to it.

This isnt the same, and you know it! she snapped. Send for Pellen. Have him stand watch while you work.

Pellens got Charis. He wont leave her this time of night.

He can bring Charis here. Ill care for both girls. Asher Dathne swung round at last on her stool beside Deenies bed. There werent enough colour in her cheeks.

Nowtll go wrong, Dath, he said. Trying to ease her. Trying to ease himself. Aint I the Innocent Mage?

Dont, she said fiercely, her voice low for Deenie. Dont you throw that at me. And youre not innocent any more, Asher. Neither of us is. We know things now. Dreadful things!

Dath Abandoning the safety of shadows, he crossed to the bed and dropped to his knees beside her. Pressed a finger to her lips. You know I got to do this. So why go on about it? Arguin hard fact be like a dog chasin its tail. Round and round and round, and nowt to show for all that effort but sweat.

She turned her head away. And if you die? What am I supposed to tell our children?

He used the same finger to turn her face back again. I aint goin to die, Dath. How can I die? I aint battlin Morg this time. Just his leftover magic. And I got Barl on my side, aint I? All her magic, sleepin inside me. Me and Barl, we wont let that bastard win.

What are you going to do? she whispered. Break the last hold Weather Magic has on this kingdom? Turn back time to the days before the Doranen came? Or will you try and put things back the way they were before Morg interfered?

He shrugged. I dont know. I dont know what be possible, Dath. I dont know what I know.

You cant make another Wall, she said, her eyes hollow with fear. You cant. That will kill you.

We dont need another Wall, Dath, he said, gentling her cheek with his hand. She pressed against him, seeking comfort. These past ten years have shown us there aint nowt beyond them mountains we need savin from. Our troubles be right here at home.

And you have to fix them. I know. Her hand came up to cover his. Barls tits, I know. And I hate it, Asher. Youve no idea how much I hate it.

Somehow he found a smile for her. Oh, I dknow. Reckon I might have an inklin.

They clung to each other then, beside their drugged, sleeping daughter, and kissed as though theyd never see each other again.

Keep Rafe home from school tomorrow, he said, as they held each other pressed forehead to forehead. Keep him here in the Tower. No gallivantin round the countryside on his pony. Send word to Pellen first thing that Deenies poorly, so Charis dont come. If I aint back from the Weather Chamber by this time tomorrow night, send Pellen to look for me. Dont you do it, Dath. Dont you leave the sprats alone.

No, Asher, I

Please, Dath. He couldnt bear it, the thought of her finding him dead if what he was about to try turned into a sinkin great disaster. I did what you wanted, last time. You can do this for me. Say youll do this for me.

He felt her breath warm against his skin as she breathed out, hard. Felt her fingers tighten on the back of his neck. Heard her swallow a sob. All right. All right, sink it. Ill do as you ask.

He kissed her. Aye, but you be a fine, slumskumbledy wench.

Pulling away from him, she slid off Deenies bedside stool and turned her back, arms wrapped around her ribs as though they were broken, and paining her. So youd best go, hadnt you, seeing youre so eager to throw your life away.

Feeling helpless, feeling lost, he rose from his crouch. Dathne

She flung up a hand. Go.

He kissed his sleeping daughter, and went.

After feeding Rafes pony its supper apple, almost amused at its crossness that he werent Rafe, he made his way through the darkness of the palace grounds to the Weather Chamber. Closed its bottom door behind him, summoned glimfire, climbed the one hundred and thirty stone steps to the glass-domed room at the top and closed that door behind him as well.

Alone, his heart pounding from more than the steep stairs, he brightened the glimfire hed conjured and stared at Barls blighted Weather map. To his ordinary eye it seemed unchanged from the other day. Dropping to one knee beside it, he rested his fingers lightly on the tallest peak of Barls Mountains. Felt the black stirring of Morgs meddling, sickened and beneath that felt the stirring spark of Barls cruel and complicated magic. It was still there. Still struggling to be heard. Barl and Morgan, battling yet.

He bumped his backside to the parquetry floor and crossed his legs. Rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his chin on his knuckles, perplexed.

Fine. So what now? Dont spose someoned like to give me a hint?

Unhelpful silence. The chamber was cold. Hed pulled on a warm coat before leaving the Tower, but even so the chill air beneath the glass dome ceiling nipped at his skin. Pushing discomfort aside, he bent his thoughts to matters magical.

With the Weather Orbs destruction, Barls magic lived in only two places now. His blood, and her Weather map. And when he touched the map he could feel that magic stirring in both of them. But what did it mean? Were they connected, somehow? Could theymad as it soundedtalk to each other?

Tentative, apprehensive, he reached out his hands. Laid them palm-down to the Weather map, his left on the Dingles and his rightcause why not?smack dab on Restharven.

Look at me, Da. Muckin about with this malarkey again.

Within heartbeats he felt the sizzle of Weather Magic in his blood. Felt the stirring of power, the call to wind and rain and snow. Could almost see the spells tongue-twisting words rise before his inner eye, feel his fingers twitch to trace their burning sigils on the cold chamber air. Morgs left-behind foulness stirred too, shuddering through him, waking hard-buried memories of torment, recalling the whisper of a loathed and loathsome voice. His flesh crawled, his belly heaved. Against his will he remembered his Guard House imprisonment and Morg the sorcerer, sheathed within hateful Conroyd Jarralt, ripping through his mind in search of people to kill. Ripping through his mind with pleasure, cause the bastard knew how much it hurt.

Panting, Asher snatched his hands off the Weather map. Felt himself topple until he struck the parquetry floor. For a long time he lay there, little shudders running through him. Framed by the chambers glass dome ceiling, the indifferent stars shone down. Spark by spark his sizzling blood fell quietbut in its place rose a high tide of fear.

Sink me bloody sideways. I cant do this. I cant.

Except he had to. For Rafel. For Deenie. For every child in Lur. If he did nowt here this night, just let Lurs turbulence run its mysterious course, well, true, things could well settle emselves just fine. But just as easily the world could turn upside down. How could he take that chance? If something went wrong, there werent no place to run. Even if they could get thousands of folk over them mountains, there werent nowt on the other side cept a slow, stinkin death. And remembering how Tollin had died how could he begin to think that were a choice? It never was. Pellen were right. This small battered kingdom was the only home they had.

So. Morg might be defeated, but nowt else had bloody changed.

He sat up. Scrubbed a hand across his face. Stared at the Weather map with sour dislike.

Barl, Barl Ill tell you this for nowt. Dathne aint the only slum-skumbledy wench I know.

His breathing hard and harsh, he flattened his palms a second time to the blighted Weather map. This time didnt fight the sickness roiling through him, the memory of Morg, but instead sought what little remained of Barls miraculous magic.

Aye, there it was, a feeble candle-flicker in the dark, valiantly struggling against Morgs creeping malaise. Sweet where the sorcerers touch and taste were poison bitter. Flavoured with hope and not despair. He heard his breathing falter, for as hard as ever he tried to deny it hed missed this. Hed missed it. And so, for the first time in more than ten years, since hed let the fury of UnMaking flood through him, Asher surrendered himself to magic.

And shouted wildly as the sleeping power in his blood caught fire.

Twice beforewhen he took the Weather magics into himself, and the time he stood before Matt in the Black Woods, so angryhe had felt the same kind of breathless unfolding inside himself. Had felt this soaring invincibility, as though he had wings and were suddenly made a new man. Even as he fought against its seduction he laughed, because now he felt whole again. For ten long years hed been incompleteand now he felt whole. He didnt want that to be true. He wanted that to be a lie.

But it aint. It aint. Barl bloody save me, it aint.

It was the reason why he denied his power. He knew that. Hed always known it. It was why he fought so hard to make sure that power stayed sleeping in his blood. Because even in the instant his magic burned through Gar, killing him, hed felt its savage glory. Felt a kinship with Morg.

No. No. I aint him. Its Barl in me, not him.

Except they were both in him now. As he shuddered over the Weather map, his scarred hands roaming its ruined surface, he could feel both Doranen sorcerers battling in his blood. Every time he touched a patch of Morgs blight he felt his belly heave and bile rush into his throat. Felt Morg, vile and gloating. But when he touched an unblighted part of the Weather map he heard a different voice whisper in his mind, striving to be heard over Morgs rotten mutterings. A sweet voice, a young voice. A womans voice hed heard before, in his dreams. But not Dathne.

It was the voice of the Weather Orb, carving secrets in his bones.

I be here, Barl. I be listenin. Tell me what Im sposed to do.

Opened fully to her Weather Magic, feeling it dance like a dagger through his veins, he could feel as well the wounds in the Weather map, more keenly than ever. Its screaming shuddered through him, slicking his cheeks with tears. His labouring heartbeat thundered in his ears. Buried beneath its pain he could feel something else, some unravelled, unravelling link between the map and Gars kingdom. The connection between Barls magic and Lurs earth, not severed yet. Not quite yet. But it trembled on the brink of breaking

And he knew then, without knowing how he knew it, that the power was in him to save the Weather map. To pour fresh life into it, fresh magic. To beat back, if not defeat, the worst of Morgs ravages and sing Lurs distressed earth back to painless sleep. He had the power to buy the kingdom some brief, precious time.

But sink me bloody sideways this is goin to hurt.

All restraint abandoned, all doubts and fears and resentments discarded, Asher drowned himself in magic. Drowned the Weather map, too. Everything the Weather Orb had poured into him in that long-ago moment of Transference, spells and sigils he had never looked at, let alone used, they flooded to his tongue and the tips of his fingers. Flooded out of him in cataracts of heat and light and pain.

Time melted like butter. It dripped and poured around him, golden as glimfire.

For hour after hour he shouted the ancient words, over and over and over again. Shouted their syllables and his suffering. Aravnakai te ramakari. His fingers burned the air. Shaso shaso ahani. Blood dripped down his face. Tolnek rusta. Rusta tolnek. Ta rastu. Ta rastu ne. His carved bones were dissolving. His throat was worn away. His voice grew ragged. He was shouting it to shreds.

Beneath his left hand he could feel the Weather map shaking. Overhead, through the glass dome, the stars grew shy, then one by one vanished as night fled before the approaching dawn. Hours of magic, and still he hadnt finished. Still the link between Lur and the Weather map was in danger of breaking. Morgs dark-hearted corruption was not defeated. For all his shouting and sigils, the Weather maps wounds were not cleanly healed.

He couldnt see for the blood in his eyes. He had to breathe through his mouth because his nostrils were clogged red. There was blood on his coat-sleeves and his trembling hands. Barls Weather map was daubed wet and scarlet.

Am I bleedin to death? he wondered. Is all my blood on there?

He thought it might be, but he couldnt stop. Not now. Not when he was close enough to taste victory, salt and iron mingled bitter on his tongue.

If I die doin this I reckon Dathll bloody kill me.

His senses had long since blunted beneath the unrelenting onslaught of magics pain. The worst calling of rain had been nothing compared to this. This magic sliced him like a razor, like pitiless Dragonteeth Reef. He could almost believe he was being UnMade just as hed UnMade Morg. Thought he was being pulled apart to specks and flecks of blood-soaked dust.

At last at long last as the climbing sun spilled warmth and golden light through the chambers glass dome and onto its floor emptied, exhausted and battered to a pulp he slumped across Barls Weather map. Dragged his crusted eyelids open and saw, blurred and bleary, that the map was almost healed. A smear of blight here a touch there Hardly enough to notice. Practically nowt, compared to before.

We did it, Barl. We bloody did it.

The Weather Chamber swirled around him, and headfirst he fell into the fast fleeing night.

Asher Asher for the love of Barl, man, come to your senses! Come on!

Irritated, he tried to swat aside the wet cloth dripping on his face. Gerroff.

Asher! Oh, praise Jervale. Praise Barl.

He sucked in a quick breath, wincing. Dathne? That were Dath. And the other voice that were Pellen. Pellen Orrick, pretty well the last of his friends that hadnt managed to die. Groaning, he opened his eyes.

Here, said Dathne, her face wet with tears. Drink this. No fratching.

Pellens strong arm eased his shoulders off the Weather Chamber floor and held him tight so Dathne could press a wooden cup against his lips.

Drink! she said again.

It was Dathne, so he drank.

Sink me, woman! he spluttered, his mouth on fire, his belly heaving. The stuff was foul, worse than any potion Nix had ever forced on him. You tryin to bloody poison me?

Here, take this, said Dathne, ignoring him and thrusting the emptied cup at Pellen. And give me that cloth. A moment later shed taken over where Pellen left off, dripping water on him and tryin to bathe him like a baby. Sinkin bloody woman, did she think hed turned feeble? Stop fratching! she scolded. If Id brought a mirror with me and you looked in it, I swear youd drop dead from fright.

Hows Deenie? he mumbled as she slopped his stubbly face clean. Sunlight dazzled his eyes, and warmed his cheeks. He was ravenous. And Rafe?

Theyre fine, she said. She sounded breathless with temper or fright. Deenie woke fresh as new milk an hour ago, and Rafes spent the day tearing the Tower down to get out into the countryside on that pony of his.

He looked up at Pellen. Charis? Hows Charis?

Shes fine too, Asher, said Pellen. His face was carved deep with worry-lines, and his smile was half-hearted. She saidshe said His voice broke. She said she heard the earth singing.

He closed his eyes. Singin, eh? Aint that poetical.

Deenie said the same thing, Dathne added. Peas in a pod, those two.

He listened to her swish the cloth in a bowl of water, and wring it out. And what does Rafe say?

Ah well, you know our Rafel, she said, sounding amused now. No poetry for him. But he said he thought the earth was happy. Which for Rafe is dancing close to poetry.

With an effort he opened his eyes again and sat up, Pellens arm helping. Every bone ached, every muscle shrieked a loud complaint. He looked at them in turn, his wife and his friend. How long have I been here?

Not so very long, said Dathne. There were still tears on her cheeks. Itll be sunset in an hour.

That meant not quite a full day. He thought he remembered the sunrise. He did remember the magic. His head was pounding and his throat was sore.

What happened? said Pellen. What did you do? Can you recall?

Shifting on the hard floor, he turned to look at Barls Weather map. Blotched a little here and there, but mostly whole. Mostly remade. Some kind of miracle, surely.

You were right, Pellen, he said, his battered voice thin and scratchy. The magic was in me. All I had to do was let it out. He shivered, memory stirring more keenly. So I did.

Let it out how? said Dathne. What did you do with it, Asher?

Frowning, he touched the Weather map. Sucked in a quick breath, feeling warmth and strength and an odd kind of peace. Feeling the Weather Magic soaked into its bones. The blight still tried to whisper, but it was faint. Almost killed. Encouraged, he pushed his feelings out further, ignoring the resentful pain, and felt an echo of that warmth and strength in the kingdoms earth beneath them.

I aint ezackly sure, he said slowly. I reckon could be I fed it into the Weather map. Into Lur.

In silence they looked at Barls amazing creation.

And sinkin near emptied yourself of life doing it, said Dathne, at last. You fool.

Dont fratch at him, Dathne, said Pellen quickly. Not after hes nigh on killed himself to save us.

Dont lecture me, Pellen! she snapped. Hes my bloody husband and the father of my children and if I want to call him seven different kinds of sapskull for coming within a hair of making me a widow and his children orphans then thats what Ill do and youll not gainsay me!

Asher grinned tiredly at his troubled friend. Dont fret, Pellen. Think I aint used to it after ten years of marriage?

Dathne slapped him. Watch your tongue, you rapscallion.

Catching her hand, he pressed it to his dry, chapped lips. Sink me, but youre beautiful when you be angry.

Asher, said Pellen, as Dathne spluttered. Silenced for once, though her eyes promised retribution. Is it enough? What youve done? Is Lurs trouble settled once and for all?

Barl bloody save him, he hoped so. I dknow. It better be. I couldnt do any more.

No, said Pellen, solemn. You couldnt. As it is you came close to doing too much. Never again, Asher. Do you hear me? Never again.

Trust me, Pellen, he said, shivering, you wont get no fratchin from me on that.

It was true. There was an emptiness inside him hed never felt before. He felt almost almost broken. Used up. Hollowed out.

You know how we got to handle this, dont you? he said, looking at Dathne, then at Pellen. Total bloody secrecy. This never happened. I aint been here for years. Same goes for you, Pellen. And you aint never been here, Dathne. You forgot the bloody Weather Chamber existed. And we dont never talk on this. Agreed?

Silence, then they nodded. Agreed, they said, a Dathne and Pellen duet.

Good, he said. If he werent so bloody tired, and in so much pain, hed be well-pleased. So thats settled. Now lets get out of here, eh? Reckon there be a bottle or three of icewine in the Tower somewhere with my name on em. You two get ale.

Between them, Dathne and Pellen levered him onto his feet. Groaning, every inch of his body voicing new and shrill complaints, he turned his aching back on Barls Weather map and shuffled out of the Chamber. Stumbled down its one hundred and thirty bloody steps and outside into spring afternoon sunlight.

Beneath his tired feet, the replenished earth slept.

Dathnes arm slipped round his ribs. Her warm lips pressed his cheek. Come along, you, she whispered. Lets see you home.

PART TWO CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Setting aside partisan squabblingchoosing to overlook the four complaints that waited to be heard in Justice HallLurs oftfractious Olken guilds joined hands with each other, and the Doranen, and held a ball in the Citys Guildhouse on the high summers night of Pellen Orricks retirement, to thank him for twenty years of steadfast mayoral service.

The farewell gala was a grand and glorious affair. Lit broad floor to lofty rafters with golden glimfire, decorated with flowers and streamers and tricky bits of Doranen magic, the Guildhouse echoed to the lilting strains of genteel music, the swish of silk skirts, the measured tread of jewelled slippers and polished boots. Almost everyone who was anyone in Lur had come here this night to dance and flirt and gossip and drink and nibble away the frolicsome hours until dawn.

Catching her breath, Dathne snatched a glass of bubbled sweetwine as it passed her on a tray. Look, Asher, she murmured, sipping. Dont Rafel and Charis make a charming pair?

Asher grunted, scowling into his tankard of spiced cider. After four dances in a row hed had enough to be goin on with, so now he and Dath were squashed out of the way in a corner where he could keep an eye on things without folk comin up to natter. Out on the dance floorthe Guildhouses meeting room, made overhis troublesome son and his best friends daughter leapt and whirled and made fools of emselves rompin through some newfangled highsteppin jig, alongside a hundred or so other Olken and Doranen as ought to know better. Fernel Pintte was one of em, Barl rot his socks.

Asher! said Dathne, and niggled him in the ribs with her elbow. Stop sulking. Fernels chosen. Its done and done.

Aye, it bloody was, though it griped him something fierce to admit it. Despite hed nigh on talked his tongue loose, and made sure to monitor the vote-counting on the day, Fernel bloody Pintte were Dorana Citys new mayor. And if that werent a sinkin disgrace

So I suggest you get used to it, added Dathne, tired of his grumping. The Guildhouses glimlight glowed on the ruby-red silk of her dress, and the ruby necklace hed gifted her. Like it or not, the chain of office is his.

Well, he didnt bloody like it, did he? Fernel Pintte were a trouble-makin, rabble-rousin upstart of a jackanapes. Arrogant as a Doranen and twice as nasty. How he thought he could step into Pellen Orricks shoes

Right to the last moment hed thought Gooses da could win the race for mayor. Werent Ned Martin born and bred in the City? A lifetime in the brewin game, with enough prize medals to sink him down a well and five turns as Guildmeister to show he could keep good order? That made up for his pricklesome nature, didnt it? Shouldnt it?

Hed thought so. Hed hoped so. But there werent never no tellin what folk might up and do. Three years ago Fernel bloody Pintte had arrived in the City to take over The Weary Traveller, one of its oldest and best-loved inns. Straight into the Hostlers Guild hed walked and the next thing anyone knew his busy fingers were dabbling in every Dorana City pie and even some beyond it. Pellen were dismayed on that too, and did his best to uncover good reason to clip Pinttes wingsbut there was nowt he could find to prove the man a problem. So Fernel bloody Pintte went on his merry way, turning hisself influential, charming witless fools hand over fist, leaving em sundazzled so they couldnt see the jackanapes behind the smile, and telling em ezackly what they wanted to hear.

Not once since the day he was sent packing from Pellens house had they heard another peep of a word from the man about chasing the Doranen out of Lurand theyd been listening close. Anyone might reckon hed abandoned the notion. Pellen was inclined to think it. But Asher wasnt so sure. Pintte might not be talking on it, but men like him didnt give up that kind of dream.

And then, with Pellen announcing he was stepping down, Pintte announced hed be running for City Mayor.

Briefly Asher thought of tossin his own self in the race but Dathne had flat forbade it.

Youre not strong enough, shed raged at him, tears in her eyes. Curl your lip at me all you like, Asher, but we both know its true. And I wont stand for you risking yourself. For what? To be mayor? No. Its not worth it.

That were the trouble with Dathneshe had the bad habit of bein right. Ever since that night hed poured himself into Barls Weather map, poured his magic, his terror, his hope and desperation into the sinkin thing so Lur wouldnt founder, hed beendifferent. More grey in his hair. More ache in his bones. More bad dreams in his sleep and less sleep to have em in.

Asher, Dathne said again, softly this time. Her hand stroked his green-sleeved arm, pulling him out of harried thought. Pellen had to step down.

He swallowed another mouthful of spiced cider. Pity it werent a tad bit stronger. He needed strong drink tonight, with Pintte boastin about the Guildhouse in Pellens chain of office, trailing his cronies after him like a bad smell.

I know, he said, still frowning, as Rafel galloped Charis round the dance floor with both hands clasping her slender waist. He looked mighty fine tonight, in blue silk and dark green velvet. Every lass he smiled at sparkled. But I dont have to like that, either.

An aguey chest had brought Pellen low early this past winter, turning him pale and listless, sapping his strength. By winters end, with Kerril making dire predictions, hed had no choice but to call it quits. Twenty years. Pellen were the longest serving mayor in the history of Lur.

With his friend retiring, and confident Gooses da would be Doranas next mayor, hed thought mayhap, at long last, he could leave the City for good and settle down along the coast with a fishing boat. Not in Restharven, with his brother Zeth still there, a cantankerous ole man, but somewhere. Him and his family, safe and happy and never havin to think on magic again.

Hed really thought he could do it. Just over ten years had slid by since that night hed saved Lur a second time. Ten peaceful years and no hint of trouble. He werent old yet, but for certain sure he was getting older. Hadnt he earned the right to live his life for himself?

Cept now here was Fernel Pintte and the bastard was starting to stir trouble again. Starting to make his noises about the Doranen, and who did Lur really belong to, eh?

He might be more polite about how he says so, compared to last time, but he aint changed his bloody tune. And now hes got folks startin to hum along with him.

And seein as how hed so neatly got hisself made mayor, well, that meant trouble were only just got started. The Mayor of Dorana had a lot of clout, not only in the City but most places in Lur. Folk paid attention. With Pellen that had meant trouble got sat on till it ran out of air. But he knew, he knew, alarm humming in his bones, that Fernel Pintte were about to start fanning flames, not smothering em.

Cause that be the kind of manky man he is. And once he starts stirrin in earnest, Barl bloody save us then. I was right. He werent ever to be trusted.

Seeing as how Pellen werent well enough for dancing, which he could manage well enough even with only one leg, theyd set him up all cosy and important on a dais down the far end of the Guildhouses vast meeting room. Just this moment he was all on his lonesome, smilin a bit watching Rafel and Charis bow and curtsey at the end of their jiggin about, so Asher tipped the rest of his spiced cider down his throat.

Reckon Ill have a quiet word with Pellen, he announced.

Oh, said Dathne, disappointed. But its time for Meistress Choice, Asher. I was going to ask you to dance.

Again? Perish the thought. Ask Pintte, he said, and gave her his empty glass. See if you can wheedle him into sayin what hes up to.

He left his wife complaining under her breath and threaded his way through the fringes of the Guildhouse throng, nodding and smiling but not stopping until he reached Pellen in his fancy chair, up on the dais.

Reckon youd be better off at home, he said, and hooked an empty chair closer. If it were anyone else hed sit himself up on the dais, but cause this were Pellen he minded his manners. Aint all this cater-waulin givin you a headache?

Odd as it may seem, said Pellen, his smile inching wider, some of us do enjoy music.

Dropping into the chair, he scowled at the fussy clot of Olkens in the gallery above them, with their fiddles and recorders and whatnot. This aint music, it be a herd of cats bein strangled so a bunch of fools can prance about like drunk spring lambs, gettin mucky with sweat.

Pellen looked at him. Youre calling my daughter a drunken spring lamb?

Yknow what I bloody mean.

Almost always, said Pellen, and laughed.

Ha. As the caterwauling started up again, Asher looked at the crowd of merrymakers. Them lasses with the gumption to ask a man to dance were leading their swains out to make fresh fools of emselves. Rafel was picked, of course. Some sweet-faced Olken girl. Charis, bold little minx, had asked a young Doranen lad to jig with her and hed said yes. Eyebrows were going up here and there, seeing it. Equal or not, these days, there werent much hobnobbing Doranen to Olken and never a suggestion of two turning sweethearts.

It might come one day. Probly will. But if it does I hope I aint around to see it. Talk about ructions

Fernel bloody Pintte had agreed to dance with Dathne. The usurped mayoral chain flashed and winked on his chest as he elbowed his way to the middle of the dance floor. Ten years had aged him, and too much rich food had fattened him, but that didnt stop the bastard leering at Dathne like a tomcat.

Asher felt his face scrunch tight. Reckon Id rather Morg put out my eyes with that poker of his afore I had to sit here and watch that.

Asher Pellen shook his head. Not a dark hair left on it, these days. Whered the bloody time go, eh? Its one thing not to like Fernel. Its quite another to paint him a villain without proof.

He snorted. Proof? We got all the proof we need. You heard him that day in your parlour. You know what he thinks and you know what he wants.

Yes, said Pellen softly. I heard him. I heard you, too. Its not what a man thinks but what he does that defines him. So far Fernel Pinttes done nothing more outrageous than win an election you wanted him to lose.

Pellen, be you goin deaf in your old age? Hes banging that same drum again, hes

Not once incited anyone to violence, said Pellen. Hes just talking, Asher. Hes perfectly free to talk.

Stymied, Asher glowered at the sight of Pintte daring to laugh at something Dathne said. Charm my bloody wife, would you? Lay a finger on her untoward, you bastard, and Ill set a wereslag on you so sinkin fast

Besides, said Pellen. Its not just Fernel Pintte, you know. There are Doranen, too, who look longingly at the mountains.

What? Hed not heard a bloody thing. Trust Pellen to know. Who?

Pellen examined his fingernails. Ive been told Rodyn Garrick. Sarle Badens another one. Oh, and Ain Freidin. You recall her?

Ain Freidin? Aye. And what were Rodyn Garrick up to with a Doranen? Hed ask, but Garrick werent here tonight, of coursecatch him honouring an Olken. Arlin was, though. Made Rafels life a misery at school, the poxy little runt. Like father, like son. Sarle Baden he werent over-familiar with. Lived mostly in the country, out beyond the Home Districts somewhere. With luck hed bloody stay there.

And theyre all stirrin trouble, are they? Reckon I need to put my ear a bit closer to the ground.

Perhaps, said Pellen slyly, if they talk long and persuasively enough theyll convince the General Council to consider another expedition. His tired eyes widened in mock-dismay. Imagine that, my friendFernel Pintte and Rodyn Garrick romping hand in hand over the mountains and far away. I can see why youd object. Who would you have to bellyache about then?

Ha, he said, giving Pellen a sour look. Very bloody funny.

Pellen grinned. I thought so.

Well, it aint, he said. Last thing we need is folk pushin and shovin to get back over them mountains. Remember how long it took us to pick ourselves up last time? Half the bloody kingdom frighted near to death, for nowt.

I remember, said Pellen, sighing. And youre right. We dont want that again.

Sides, aint no reason to think anythins changed from what poor ole Tollin found, he added. But that Fernel bloody Pintte He scowled at the new mayor, still jigging with Dathne. Hes the type as wont take no for an answer. Hell push and shove and niggle, thinkin sooner or later hell turn the tide towards him. And if we got Doranen rowin in his boat now

I think the whispers are wrong, said Pellen. I cant believe Rodyn Garrick would join with an Olken.

Aye, well Asher scratched his chin. Fingers crossed, eh? He glanced up. How you feelin, any road?

Im fine. Charis takes good care of me. Shes a sweet child. So much like my Ibby. Asher, dont take this amiss, but

What? he said, as Pellen hesitated.

Id not have her heart broken. So if Rafels merely dallying Startled, he stared at his friend. Rafe and Charis?

You didnt know?

The Meistress Choice dance was done with, and a new dance started. Asher looked at the whirling, colourful couples and saw his son was partnering some other Olken lass now. She looked familiar but he couldnt remember her name. Girls were always buzzing round Rafel, bees to a blossom.

Pellen Discomfited, he shook his head. Rafe aint said nowt to me on bein partial to Charis.

Which is why I worry, said Pellen. For you might as well know that shes partial to him.

Oh. Then best he had a word with his rakish son, eh? Last thing I need be him causing a brangle over petticoats. Specially with Pellen poorly, and such a good friend. Ill see she aint dallied with. My word on it.

Its not me thinking Rafels not good enough for her, Pellen said quickly. Hes a fine boy. Only I remember being young and full of hot blood. I remember He laughed, a little colour touching his face. Well. As I say, Id not have Charis hurt.

Asher had to grin. So, in his green days Pellen had been a bit of a lad, eh? Probly hed cut a fine figure in his guardsmans uniform at that. For himself, hed only been passing interested in the lasses leastways until he met Dathne.

He wont muck her about, Pellen. Reckless Rafe might be, but not cruel. Not ever.

Pellen, cause he were Pellen, heard the rough beneath the smooth. You and the boy are still at odds?

He shrugged, one-shouldered. He reckons hes hard done by, but hell get over it soon enough.

I know you think so, said Pellen, after a moment. But Asherhes not a child any more. Hes a young man with a gift and he wants to explore it and youve not convinced him why he shouldnt.

Dont need to convince him, do I? Im his da. What I say goes.

Pellen shook his head. Why is it so important to you that he continues this pretence?

You bloody know why, Pellen!

Theres a difference between him working Doranen magic in private and showing it off in Market Square, said Pellen, keeping his voice low. And even if he did show it off, hes in no danger. Barls First Law is dead, Asher. We killed it.

That aint the point, he said, irritated. Rafe might swear blind he wont cause a ruckus but hes my son and I know him. The likes of that Arlin Garrickll say the wrong thing one time and thatll be that and you cant pour spilt ale back in the jug, can you? Wont no good come of lettin Rafel explore his gift. He can bloody sit on it, like I do. Instead of frettin on bloody magic he can make up his mind what hes to do with his life proper. Ive had enough of his dabblin here and dabblin there and never choosin a path to walk.

Thats not always a simple decision, Asher.

Never said it were simple, he retorted. But he cant keep driftin rudderless, Pellen. And he cant keep on hopin to make his life about magic. It aint goin to happen. I aint goin to let it.

Pellen sighed. Well Im sure you know best.

In other words, Asher, youre making a mistake. But he werent. He knew in his bones it were dangerous to let Rafel run loose with Doranen magic. Any road, he said, aint no cause for you to fret on Charis. Ill see her right.

I know you will, said Pellen, and patted his shoulder. Its just my lass is at that age, isnt she? Youve got Deenie, so you know how it is.

Deenie. Gardenia. His little brown mouse. He looked for her on the dance floor, but no. She werent there. Had she stepped out even once tonight? He didnt think so. Deenie adored her Uncle Pellen so of course shed come to the ball, but

If I worry, he said, it be cause she aint a lass as flutters her eyelashes. Too quiet by far, thats Deenie. I aint even sure where

There, said Pellen, nodding. Being persuaded by Charis to flutter a little, I suspect.

Pellen was right. Charis, all lit up like glimfire in her yellow silk gown, two Olken lads worshipful by her side, was laughing at Deenie, cajoling her to dance. Meek and shy in her own pretty blue dress, Deenie were blushing and shaking her head. Standing behind the long table of refreshments, holding a glass of lemonwater like it were a potion to ward off evil.

Go on, mouse. Have a dance, eh? Have some fun. You cant stand your whole life unnoticed in the bloody shadows.

Charis won, of course. Deenie never could resist her best friend for long. Grinning, Asher watched her take one of the young mens bent armMick Greeley, that was, his da ran Dorana Citys markets, a sober lad, respectable, nowt a whiff of trouble about himand walk shyly with the lad onto the dance floor. Dathne saw her, and winked. She was all set to dance with young Greeleys da. The other lad dancing attendance, he could see now, was Rafes best friend Goose. With luck Charis would flutter her eyelashes at him. Fall for him, mayhap, and wouldnt that be useful?

Rafel, Rafel you better not be triflin with Pellens only child.

Where was the sprat, any road? Not on the dance floor now. Not at one of the refreshment tables. Not anywhere in the room that he could see. And neither was poxy Arlin Garrick

Them two. I swear. At each others throats from the moment they first met.

Uneasy, suspicions stirring, he slid off his chair.

Asher? said Pellen. Whats wrong?

Nowt, he said, cause his friend didnt need more to fret on. Just feel like stretchin mlegs a bit. If I take a wander, youll be fine?

That had Pellen pulling a face. Im not quite in my dotage yet, thank you. By all means run along. Im sure Ill amuse myself tolerably well without you.

He grinned, briefly. Aye. Im sure you bloody will too.

Even as he walked away from the dais a handful of Olken crowded in to take his place. Pellen greeted em cordially and they fell into eager discussion. Heading for the nearest door to take him outside, Asher found himself waylaid by Eylin Cross, no longer on the Mage Council but still a woman of influence. Hovering behind her were Nan Mortley of the Shepherds Guild.

Asher, said Eylin in her brisk, no-nonsense way, bide a moment. Nan needs a word with you about her suit in Justice Hall.

He raised both hands. Now, Eylin, you know I aint to talk on whats upcoming afore

Trust me, said Eylin grimly. And make an exception for this.

Eylin werent the flighty type. If she said it were important, if she thought to press him on it here at Pellens farewell ball, then All right. Rafel, youd better keep yself out of mischief. Well step aside and you can tell me quick whats amiss.

Escaped from the Guildhouse, from the overbright glimlight and laughter and warmth, from Charis, Rafel turned his face to the starstruck sky. Out here, in the small but lush Guildhouse garden, clipped grass beneath his feet, fragrant flowers in profusion around him, a cool breeze flirting like a lass with his hair, he could breathe slow and deep. Breathe out every last skerrick of tension and frustration and sorrow.

Uncle Pellen looks so poorly. And Fernel bloody Pinttehe cant even pretend to be sorry. No wonder Da hates him. Howd he ever get made mayor?

Mama and Da, they pretended their old friend was fine. But he wasnt Asher of Restharvens son for nothing. He felt what he felt, and what he felt made his chest hurt. Other things made it hurt too, but tonight Pellens wan face and weary eyes and fallen flesh hurt the most.

And Charis, bloody Charis, dancing like a whirligig. Chatter, chatter, chatter like there was nowt wrong. When Papas better, Rafe, were going to travel round Lur a bit. When Papas better, were going to plant a new garden. When Papas better When a blind man could see Pellen was an ailing man and she was fooling herself.

Even so, you couldnt stop yourself from looking at her, could you?

Fretted raw, he could feel his magic simmering inside him. Wanted more than anything, so strong he could taste it, to lash out and break something. Crack stones. Shatter glass. Smash the Guildhouse gardens djelbas to splinters. Pull the stars from the sky.

Aye, and wouldnt that prove Da right and me at fault?

Rafel ?

He didnt turn. Didnt have to. Go back inside, Deenie. I dont want company just now.

Oh. All right. If you want. Only

The hurt in her voice stoked his anger. Aint no only, Deenie. Theres just you being a nuisance. As usual. Go away.

I will. I will, except Her voice was unsteady. Still hurt, but stubborn too. And wasnt that his sister in a nutshell? Rafe, youre stirred up. All hot and gnarly inside. I can feel it.

He threw her a burning look over his shoulder. Good for you. Now, unless you want to see it, go away.

You dont have to be mean, she said. Theres no call to be mean.

Aint no call for you to stickybeak in my business, either, but here you are anyway. Stickybeaking.

Fine, said Deenie. Burn yourself up, then. See if I care.

He listened to her stamp back into the Guildhouse, where music played and folk danced, most of them celebrating. Hed tried to pretend happiness too, but the lie wore him out. For all that Pellen Orrick was years older than Da and Mama, for all hed been their friend before they were married, somehow, slowly, hed become their sons friend too.

Like ole Darran was. An ear to listen. A shoulder to lean on. Someone who knows what Das like, and doesnt always take his side.

And he needed that, cause though he loved his father, sometimes Da could be bloody hard work. Like with his magic. He was so bloody tired of having to hide his Doranen power, like these were the old days and Barls First Law still ruled. What did it matter if the Doranen knew he was like Da? Not once his whole life had his parents given him an answer. All they did was boss him, and expect him to obey. The way Da carried on, it was clear he was ashamed. Ashamed of the son whod inherited his gift.

As though its my fault. As though I did something wrong.

So did that mean he had to leave home? Find a new place to live, and busywork that would keep a roof over his head while he learned for himself the true extent of his Doranen magic? He didnt want to. Him leaving like that would break Mamas heart. But Da wasnt giving him much of a choice.

Cause its my bloody life and Ill live it how I want.

Footsteps behind him. Deenie! he said, still not turning. Sink me, why cant you

Deenie? A soft, unpleasant laugh. So much for the oft-vaunted Olken talent for sensing things.

Swallowing a curse, Rafel turned. The gardens dim glimlight showed him silvergilt hair, and flamboyant striped silk, and a smile that had nowt to do with friendship. And suddenly he was a sprat again, facing down his bitter enemy in the school yard or the street.

Whats the matter, Arlin? he said, with sweetly false sympathy. Wont any of the girls dance with you?

Ive got the pick of any girl in there, said Arlin, eyes narrowing. Even your drab little sister, Rafel. If I snapped my fingers

Try it, he advised. Go on. Then see how sorry you are. You muck about with Deenie and Ill show you some Olken magic. Maybe Ill show you

Now, now, said Da, stepping out of the shadows. Settle down there, Rafe. You lost your sense of humour, sprat? Arlins teasing, is all. He knows better than to start a brangle over a lass. Not with me, any road. Not when its my lass.

Arlins mocking smile vanished. Meister Asher. He took a step backdid he realise it?and folded his arms. You mustve misheard. Me, interested in an Olken girl? Hardly. Ive got my standards.

Rafe, Da said, one hand lifting. Let be. Not every man can hold his drink like a man. Show a little pity for them as cant.

He couldnt trust himself to speak. Could only feel some small, passing pleasure at Arlins tight-lipped anger and bite his tongue, hard. And feel pleasure, too, knowing that for years hed stolen spells from Arlin, and never once did Arlin suspect. Hed never understood it, how Arlin could be so arrogant about his magic when as far as he could tell, Garrick was no better a mage than any other Doranen.

Reckon you might want to make yself scarce, young lord, Da suggested kindly. Have a sit down somewhere till you be sober again. Wouldnt like to see you so het up you puked your guts over that fancy clobber of yours, eh?

Meister Asher, said Arlin, after a tense moment. Rafel. He favoured them both with a curt nod then made a hasty, undignified retreat.

Poxy little shit, said Da, watching him go.

Still not trusting himself, Rafel grunted.

Da stared at him. Now what are you fratched at, Rafe?

Wasnt any call for you to step in, Da, he said tightly. I dont need help with the likes of Arlin Garrick.

Das eyebrows shot up. No?

No! he said, nigh on shouting. All you did poking your nose in waswas Make me look a fool. Make me feel small and useless. Da, I didnt need your help.

Oh, aye? Da snapped back. So youre sayin you werent about to lose that fine temper of yours and try magickin the little sea-slug into the middle of next week?

It smarted that Da could read him so easily. So what if I was? He was smearing on Deenie!

Aye, but if Deenie never hears of it Deenie wont be hurt, will she? Da retorted. And hows branglin with Rodyn Garricks sprat goin to manage that, Rafel? Do things your way and everyone would bloody know!

Why didnt Da understand? Why wasnt he angry? The likes of Arlin Garrick didnt ought to get away with saying muck about whoever they want!

Oh, Rafe. Da shook his head. The likes of Arlin Garricks a Doranen, you young fool. Hundreds of years they been arrogant shits. Reckon theyre goin to stop bein emselves any time soon?

They wont stop being themselves till we make them, Da. Nowtll change if we dont stand up to them.

Things have changed already, said Da, impatient. You just be too young to see it. And theyll change more. But it takes time, Rafe, so while you be waitin you got to learn to walk away. No goodll come of stirrin things up. Specially not with magic. Not while we be stuck here with em like cats and dogs in a barrel.

Then maybe Fernel Pinttes right, he muttered, still hotly smarting. Could be its past time we showed them the door.

Rafel Da turned away, hand rubbing over his face, then swung back again. Youd side with Pintte? At Pellens farewell youd

Aye, Da, I would! he retorted. If Pinttes right, then I

Without warning, the balls of glimfire dotted round the small Guildhouse garden flared and spluttered. Belched eye-stinging, throat-catching smoke.

Sink me, said Da, his head snapping up. Rafe, dyou feel that? Dyou feel

And beneath their feet, in the deep earth, Lur groaned.

Startled cries came from inside the Guildhouse. Through its many windows Rafel saw fits and bursts of light as the golden glimfire beneath the rafters surged and spat bright sparks.

The waves of unease in the earth rolled higher and harder. Turning, Rafel saw his own shock and sickness reflected in his fathers face.

Da? Whats this? I thought

Aye, Rafe, so did I, said Da. He sounded strange, almost frighted. But that couldnt be right. Come on, he said, starting towards the Guildhouse. Lets find your ma and sister.

Asher! said Mama, catching sight of them, her voice lifting over the hubbub. Folk inside the Guildhouse milled and gabbled, crying out as the balls of glimfire sizzled and bounced. Even the Doranen looked shocked, standing together in little groups whispering and staring accusingly at the Olken guests. But Mama paid no heed to that, she shoved her way through the anxious throng, ignoring the folk who yelped and glared.

When she reached them Da caught her in a swift hug. Wheres Deenie?

Mamas face was milky pale, her dark eyes wide. Shes with Goose, she said, her voice breathless. She sounded frighted. Over there, in the corner. Pulling one hand free, she pointed.

Reassured, Da nodded. Pellen? And Charis?

Im sure theyre fine too. Asher

I dont know, Dath, said Da, still holding her tight. Lets talk on it at home. Rafe

He clasped his fathers shoulder. Aye, Da, dont fret. Ill fetch Deenie.

Da spared him a swift, strained smile. Good sprat.

For once, he didnt mind being called a child.

Leaving his parents he made his way round the edge of the dance floor, trying not to flinch as the glimfire spat more stinging sparks. Trying not to groan out loud as the waves of wrongness surged and shifted beneath his unsteady feet. He hadnt felt this in ten years. His head was spinning, pins and needles in his blood. Many of the Olken who only moments ago had been laughing and dancing, they were feeling it too. He heard their moans, saw their fear, watched them clutch at each other. Watched the tears of fright trickle down their cheeks.

If he wasnt bloody careful, he could weep with fright himself.

Rafel! Rafe!

And that was Goose, safe in a corner with Deenie huddled against him. His sister wasnt crying but she shook like a flower in a windstorm, even with Gooses strong arm around her.

Hey, he said, joining them. You all right?

Goose had sprung up and filled out so much this last year, Deenie looked like a little girl beside him even though she was a young woman now. Fine, he said, nodding. But youre not, are you? Rafe His eyes were bleak. Is this

The riverpond? Aye, he said shortly, as his belly churned and heaved. Hush up, eh? Deenie

His sister turned her pinched face towards him. Whats happening, Rafe? she whispered. I feel so bad. Lur feels bad. I dont understand, I thought Then she cried out, and she wasnt the only one, as another enormous wave of wrongness ripped through the earth, the air, through the blood and bones of most Olken in the room.

And outside the Guildhouse, the night was deafened by thunder.

Rafe! said Goose, as Deenie pressed her face into his fine brocade weskit. Can you stop this?

More thunder roared, like a rock-slide. Then screams and shouts as the Guildhouse glimfire extinguished in a shower of sparks and the room plunged black. A heartbeat later it lit up again in jagged fits as spears of blue-white lightning seared and sizzled the dark.

Dknow, he said, his blood seething. Will you watch Deenie a mite longer? I need to

No, Rafe, Deenie said. Please, I dont

I aint going far, he said. And Goose is with you. Dont fret, Deenie. Ill be back in a ticktock.

Do what you need to, said Goose. I got her.

There was something about the way his friend said it, the way his arm cradled Deenie, the look on his face. He stared. Goose and Deenie? Hes never said a word to me. But there wasnt time to think on it. He had more alarming things to think on just now.

Everyone in the Guildhouse was shouting. Someone had found candleslittle puddles of light were popping up everywhere. Someone else mustve told the musicians that fiddles were soothing, cause them as were stuck up in the gallery had started playing again. Over the music and the fratching he could hear Fernel Pintte trying to be mayor, but it wasnt working. Too much fright, too much upset. Too many Doranen demanding explanations. And in Pinttes voice he could hear the pain of Lurs pain. Doranas new mayor was a powerful Olken mage.

Trying to shut out the noise and the hurt, Rafel stumbled and shoved and excused his way to the Guildhouses open doors.

Escaped outside, he nearly fell over his mother, and Da.

Wheres Deenie? his father demanded. Rafel

Shes with Goose. Shes fine. I wanted to When he saw the sky, his voice died in his throat. Oh, Da, he whispered. Da were in trouble.

He felt Mamas arm slip round his waist. Felt Das hand come to rest heavy on his shoulder. Aye, sprat, his father said. We sinkin well are.

The glorious summer stars were vanished, blotted out by thick cloud. Vivid forks of lightning stabbed the city like a cut-throat. Thunder rolled and rumbled, pressure against his skin, in his head. He could feel his magic roiling, boiling in his blood. The nights wildness was calling him. He wanted to leap and shout.

Hold fast, Rafe, said Da. Cause this be only the beginning.

And as though Das words were a knife blade severing a taut, restraining rope lightning crackedthunder roaredand a cold rain fell like hammers. Like the end of the world.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Because she couldnt trust herself to speak, Dathne stood at the Towers solar window and stared at the sullenly weeping world beyond it.

Since the night of Pellens farewell ball, nearly two weeks ago, it had stormed and rained almost without ceasing. Tremors had been felt in every part of the kingdom. Countless creeks and riverlets and ponds were overflowing. Thered even been some drownings. Doranas City Guardhouseall the Guardhouses in the kingdomwere on the highest alert. Frightened people did silly things. Doranas Guardhouse was full right now of hotheaded Olken and Doranen youths caught brawling in Market Square, each blaming the other for Lurs overwhelming strife. Rafes friend Goose was one of those arrested, swirled up in the disturbance trying to save another lad from harm.

All fear and no sense, the fools, and not once stopping to think. Dont people understand anything? We survive this together or we perish alone.

Behind her, she heard Asher shift on the solars low couch. Dath? You goin to say somethin?

Trust me, Asher, you dont want to hear what I have to say.

Yes, I do, he said. I always do.

All right, my love. But dont say you werent warned.

She turned on him. You cant do it. You nearly killed yourself last time. And anyway, we both know this has gone far beyond fixing, even with Weather Magic. Whatever time you bought for Lurits spent now. And theres no more coin in that purse.

Dath Asher lifted his head from his hands. If I dont try again, them fools Pintte and Garrick are goin to

Then let them! she snapped. If theyre so stupid they wont listen to you then let them. You dont like them anyway, so why should you care if they get themselves drowned?

He sighed. You dont mean that.

Dont I? She laughed, scornful. Given a choice between your life and theirs do you think Id choose those fools over you?

No, Dath, he said, pressing his thumb tips to his eyes. Course I dont.

Asher Heartwrung for him despite her frightened fury, Dathne stepped swiftly to the couch and sat by his side. Smoothed his close-clipped, badgery hair. Stop blaming yourself. Youve done everything you could. More than anyone had a right to expect.

He shrugged, unconsoled. Aint been enough, though, has it?

Asher, you bought us another ten years. Theres not a man or woman in Lur who couldve done more. And as for Fernel, and Rodyn Garrickyouve shouted yourself hoarse in both Councils and youve petitioned them privately and still they insist on ignoring you. I say if theyre determined to be blind fools, then so be it. But you cannot risk WeatherWorking again. I wont have it. I wont lose you to

Hurried footsteps on the Tower staircase. Rafel. He strode into the solar, his face lit with elation. But Dathne, knowing him, thought she saw trepidation beneath it.

Gooses let out, he announced. His hair and shoulders were damp from the rain. They all are. Cautioned and fined, but no worse.

Ha, said Asher, unslumping. Dont tell me that Captain Masons a soft-head. When the Council hired him in charge of the Guardhouse he promised hed be strict.

It was a steep fine, said Rafel. Fifty trins, which Gooses da said he wont pay. And every offenders name noted in the record of affray. Thats strict enough, seeing as how Goose did nowt wrong.

Dathne smiled. Always leaping to someones defence, was her son. But aside from being poorer, hes none the worse for wear?

Got himself a ripe black eye, said Rafe, pulling a face. And a couple of loosened teeth.

Well, mayhap thatll teach him not to brangle in Market Square, said Asher. Hope you been payin attention, sprat.

Dathne saw the flash of resentment in their sons eyes. Saw his jaw tighten, briefly, and the instinctive clench of fingers to fists.

Oh, Asher. Have a care. Dont let Lurs new troubles blind you.

Any other news, Rafe? she said, patting her tactless husbands hand in warning. Whats the gossip?

Rafe looked at his father sidelong, then wandered over to the solars window. Word is Fernel Pintte and Rodyn Garrick are set to leave for the coast by the end of the week.

Anyone goin with em? said Asher, eventually.

Didnt hear that. Rafe grimaced. Though I spose Arlinll traipse along, so he can say after how he saved Lur single-handed.

If there is an after, Asher muttered. If they dont kill emselves and half of Westwailing while they be about it.

Da Rafe shoved his hands in his pockets, looking so like his father. We cant sit on our arses doing nowt. I dont see whats wrong with trying to break the reef.

Rafe, its been tried, Asher said sharply. I tried. It was another cruel memory hed worked hard to smother. And when I failed, Barlsman Holze and the best Doranen mages Morg didnt manage to kill, they tried. And how did that tale end? With most of em dead outright and Holze ravin witless for nigh on three months. The bloody reefs poison. There aint no undoin it.

Rafel was staring. I never knew you tried to break the reef.

Aye, well, it were a long time ago and we never did run around shoutin it from the roof tops. Point is, Rafe, we failed.

But Da, like you say, it was a long time ago, said Rafe. So young, soso cocksure. You said it yourselfthings change. We all thought Lur was a safe and peaceful place, but its not. Its growing more dangerous by the day. What if the rain wont stop? What if the earth tremors get any worse? Theres already crops ruined and stock drowned. Much more of this and foods going to get scarce. What do we do then? How will we live? Weve got to find a way out of this bloody kingdom. And if we cant go over the mountains weve got no choice. We have to get out on boats.

Asher shoved to his feet. What boats, Rafe? Fishin boats? Theyd never stand up to the open ocean.

Then well build bigger boats, said Rafe, reckless. Better boats.

And sail em where, sprat? said Asher. He was starting to lose his temper. Like as not there aint nowhere to sail to. For as long as theres been Olken in Lur has a boat ever come here? No. We aint seen so much as a sail on the bloody horizon!

That doesnt mean we shouldnt try! Rafe shouted. And if you wont then someone else has to. Someones got to do more than stand around telling folk to give up hope. Barl bloody save us, Da, you could be wrong. Why dont you ever admit you could be wrong?

Seeing Ashers face, Dathne leapt up. Rafel, thats enough. Her voice was trembling. Her whole body was trembling. The hurt in Ashers eyes You dont know everything. You dont know

I know enough, Mama, said Rafel, pale with temper. I know Lurs broken and Da cant fix it. And if he cant no-one can. Now, I dont like Fernel Pintte and Lord Garrick any more than you like em, but at least theyre trying to do something. So I say let em. I say weve got nothing to lose.

That aint always true, Rafe, Asher said quietly. Sometimes we dont know what we got to lose till weve gone and bloody lost it.

Rafes face shuttered. Any road, he said. Thats the latest news.

Rafe, where are you going? said Dathne, as her son headed for the solar door. Rafe

Out for a bit, he said, not slowing. Ill be back for supper.

She stood there, silent, listening to his footsteps fade. Then she looked at Asher. His face was shuttered too, all thought and feeling locked away. She reached out, touched his arm.

Asher, hes young. He doesnt

He walked to the window. Rested his palm on its pane of glass and stared out at the rain and the waterlogged garden. Dath, I got to go too. Down to Westwailing. If them fools are bent on doin this I got to be there.

She wanted to say no. She wanted to rail against his sombre certainty, hold him and kiss him until he changed his mind. But she couldnt, because down in Westwailing there was still a small chance he could make a difference. And he needed that. He needed it badly.

And whatever he does there, at least it wont be WeatherWorking.

Ill go with you, she whispered. Well all go.

His head snapped round. No, Dath. You and the sprats got to stay here. Aint no tellin whatll happen when they start faddlin with the reef. Me and Holze and them others, we went at it careful. That wont be Garrick and Pintte. Them fools are goin to try rippin it to shreds. It wont be safe.

Right now, nowhere in this kingdoms safe, she retorted. Rafes right about that much. Besides. Its time he learned a thing or two first hand, our brash son. And I dont want Deenie left behind on her own. Shes fragile, yet. She needs me. And Asher, you need us.

She could feel the conflict in him. He wanted to argue, declare himself the stalwart hero. The lone wolf. But his eyes told a different story. He was hurting, because of Rafe, whose youthful arrogance was sharper than a knife. And worse than the pain, there was shame because hed let her talk him out of trying to WeatherWork again.

But she refused to be ashamed of that. Though they didnt speak of it, she knew there were wounds in him that hadnt healed. Might never heal. What was it Queen Dana had said once to Gar, that Gar had told Asher and he had told her?

Weather Magic is a double-edged sword, and every time you wield it you cut yourself a little.

Well. For Gars sake and Lurs, Asher had nigh on cut himself to ribbons. She had no desire that he cut himself again. Not now, not ever. And he knew it.

But could she trust him to honour her fear? If Pintte and Garrick failed in Westwailing, as seemed most likely, and Lurs strife made good on its threat to tear the kingdom apartcould she trust him not to try WeatherWorking their way out of trouble a second time?

Of course I cant. Hes Asher.

My love, she said. I want your word on something. No matter what happens on the coast, promise me youre done with Weather Magic. On the lives of your children, promise me you wont touch that Weather map again.

Wearily he shook his head. Dath

Promise me.

All right, he said, after a terrifying silence. I promise.

She smiled, tightly. I dont care if he resents me. I dont care what he does so long as he doesnt go back to that bloody Weather Chamber. Good. Now Id best get busy packing, since were off to the coast.

Ill see to the carriage and horses, said Asher. And after that, reckon Ill wander down and have a few words with Pellen. He likes the company, and hell want to know about Pintte and Garricks plan.

She frowned. Hes supposed to be resting. If you wear him out with politics and gossip, Asher, hell never

Trust me, Dath, hell be a sight more fratched not knowin whats what. Last thing Pellen wants is to be left out.

And that was true too. She sighed. Just be home in time for supper. Or youll have Cook out of sorts and youre not the one who has to listen to her griping.

She turned to leave a second time, and for a second time he stopped her. Dath

Twenty years was a long time to live with a man. She knew him as she knew herself. Too well for comfort, sometimes. Too well to lie. You cant, Asher, she said softly. I know you want him to think well of you, always. But ask yourself this, my love. Will it help Rafe or hurt him to know about the Weather map? When theres nothing he can do with it? When theres nothing he can do for you? She took a consoling step towards him. He might not admit it, but hes frighted like the rest of us. Rafe knows you. He loves you. Youve not lost him over this. He knows better than anyone youre not a coward.

He tried to smile. You reckon?

I do. Now go cheer up Pellen. Give him my best. She darted back to him and kissed him lightly on the lips. And dont forgetI love you too.

She left him alone then, for he wasnt a man to weep easy in company. Not even when the company was his wife of twenty years.

Until the day Morg tried to destroy Dorana, the alehouse that stood on this spot was called the Green Goose. According to them as remembered, it had been the favourite watering spot for all the palace and Tower staff. Da used to drink and rowdy and play knucklebones there three or four nights a week, so folk said. But the alehouse burned down on the day Morg died, and the innkeeper had burned with it along with his family.

The new alehouse built in its place was named the Dancing Bear. Gooses da brewed the ale for it, and sometimes Goose did too now he was trusted alone with the hops and the malt barley and the recipes that won prizes at the annual guild fair.

Still fratched with his father, Rafel brooded over a mug of Goose-brewed pale ale. Two fiddles and a tambourine made cheerful music in the corner, much more to his liking than the noise at Pellens ball. Though a lot had changed in the City, this remained an Olken place. No Doranen drank here. And most of those Olken were sneaking looks over their shoulders at the heros son, in the corner. Looks that suggested disappointment and dismay, that the hero hadnt lifted a finger this time to save them.

Dont blame me. I tried talking to him.

Hey, said Goose, sliding onto the bench opposite. His hair was wet. Would it never stop raining? Got your message. Whats wrong?

He shrugged. Nowt. Didnt feel like drinking alone, is all. Sour mood easing, just a little, he sat back. How bads the trouble with your da?

Goose waved at one of the barmaids, pulling a face. Lets just say Im not his favourite son.

Goose, youre his only son.

And not his favourite, either.

But you did nowt wrong, Rafe protested. You were trying to help Solly.

Which cost me fifty trins and my name writ down in the Guardhouse, so Goose broke off and smiled at the barmaid. A pint of strong, Flora lass.

Flora dimpled. Yours or your dads?

Mine, said Goose, grinning. Or folk might start to talk. A brewer who wont drink his own ale? Thatll get tongues wagging.

Floras dimples deepened. One pint coming up, Goose.

For a moment Rafe admired the saucy swing of her hips as she returned to the bar. Then he looked back at Goose. Your das a bloody fool. He ought to be proud of you, standing up for a friend.

Probably he would be, if it didnt cost me fifty trins, Goose said, resigned. You know what my dads like about money.

Aye, he said, and swallowed more ale. It was a touch sweeter than what Gooses da brewed. But then, Goose was a touch sweeter than his da, so no surprise there.

Waiting for his own tankard, Goose looked around the crowded ale-house. There was laughter, there was gaming, the music was loud and bright, but beneath the jollity was a bitter taint of fear. The rain didnt help, drumming harder than ever on the Bears tiled roof, a constant reminder Lur was falling apart.

I heard what the mayor and Lord Garrick are planning, said Goose, lowering his voice. Is it true? Have we got no choice but to trust in them?

The sweet ale in his belly turned abruptly sour. Looks that way.

But Rafe Goose chewed at his lip, as dismayed as all the other Olken in the place. Your dads the WeatherWorker, he

Thats what he was, Goose. I dknow what he is now.

Floras return with Gooses tankard broke the shocked silence. Thanks, lass, Goose said, subdued, and fished some coins out of his pocket for her. After she left them, he leaned across the scarred table. Rafe, whats wrong?

Rafel put down his own tankard and scrubbed a hand across his face. I didnt mean to say that. I didnt mean to Nowt, he muttered. Leastways nowt I want to talk on.

You still feelin bad? said Goose, all quick sympathy. I thought things had eased off a bit. Ive heard other Olken, strong mages, say how things have eased off.

They have, he said tiredly. Youre right, the earth aint howling so loud. Probly cause it had nigh on howled itself to death. But he wasnt strong enough for that conversation. Not tonight. So aye. Im feeling better. For now.

Goose nodded. Thats good. Rafe

Theyd been friends so long he didnt need for Goose to finish. No. Theres nowt I can do to fix whats gone wrong. Da wont let me.

Rafe Goose rubbed his nose. Your dads only trying to protect you.

Rage flashed through him. Did I ask him to? he said, leaning across the wooden bench, fist thudding. I never did, Goose. I never bloody asked and now, when I could make a difference? With the power thats in me? Sitting back, he gulped the rest of his ale. Im no more use than tits on a bull.

Any road, said Goose, at last, uncomfortable. At least youre not feeling so sick. He swallowed more of his own ale. Belched. I came past the Chapel on the way here. Blazing with lights, it was. Full of folk in service with Barlsman Jaffee. His gaze drifted around the noisy room. Seems to me these days were either praying or drinking.

Those aint our only choices, Goose, he said, and levered himself to his feet. His head buzzed muzzily, sloshing full of ale. We can gamble, too. Lets find us a game of knucklebones. Im in the mood to wager big.

They joined a round started up by a few lads as worked the Livestock Quarter, and soon enough one or two others, old school friends, joined them. Raucous and riotous, they hooted, hollered and traded cuicks and trins back and forth, tossed the yellowed knucklebones, accused each other of ham-fisted cheating, laughed and pretended all was right with the world.

Then Rafel looked up at the clock above the bar, and saw he was in danger of getting home late for supper. Leaning sideways, he took a deep breath and bawled into Gooses ear.

Times shifting. I gotta go.

Cheerfully ale-sloshed, Goose nodded. All right. But come by the brewery first thing tomorrow, why dont you? Were shorthandedand youve got nothing better to do.

The words were meant friendly and teasing, but they stuck him like pins. Nothing better to do. Aye, and wasnt that the truth? I aint Goose. I dont want to be a brewer. All I want to be I cant. And I still dont know what to do about that. But that wasnt Gooses fault and sweating in the brewery was one way to kill time and earn himself some coin.

Aye, he said. Ill be there.

Once outside the alehouse, he turned up his coat collar. The rain had eased to a mizzle, and the empty cobbled streets were slick and treacherous under foot. Their glimlamps sparked and sputtered, struggling as theyd struggled ever since the night of Uncle Pellens ball, and the storm that ripped Lur out of its warm, safe cocoon.

But he didnt want to think on that, either, so he shoved his hands deep in his pockets and started walking back home. Prodded by what Goose had said, he didnt take the back streets this time, but crossed over to Market Square to find the Chapel still blazing with glimlight and folks stood on the steps cause they couldnt fit inside. And there was singing. Beautiful singing. Hymns to Barl. He stood in the Squares shadows, listening, and bit by bit his lingering anger faded. Soothed by sweet voices instead of Gooses sweet ale.

After a while he realised he wasnt alone. Looking sideways he saw Da standing a bit distant, listening with him.

Been sittin with Pellen, Da said, his own gaze not moving from the chapel. Chewin over this and that.

Uncle Pellen hadnt set foot out of his house since that night in the Guildhouse. Rafel felt the worry of it tickle his throat. He feeling better?

Da shook his head. No.

So Kerrils right? he said harshly. Hes dying?

We all be dyin, sprat, said Da. Just some of us faster than others, is all.

That wasnt the answer hed been expecting. Thanks, Da. Thats right cheerful of you.

Da snorted. Yknow you be late for supper?

He tipped his face to the cloud-smudged night sky, feeling the mizzle harden, hinting at more rain. So are you.

Aye, said Da, still thoughtful. So you and me got that much in common.

They had magic in common too, only he was sposed to pretend they didnt. Anger stirred againbut he was too full of ale and weariness to brangle, so he held his tongue.

Im goin down to Westwailing, said Da. Your ma and Deenie are comin too. Reckon you should ride with us. Reckon you should see for yself what comes of faddlin with things as are best left alone.

Da He swung round. Whyd you have to put it that way? Why cant you say youre going down to Westwailing to show support for the mayor and Lord Garrick?

Cause that aint why I be goin, said Da, with a careless shrug.

Youre going so you can sneer and say afterwards I told you so? he demanded, incredulous. Da, thats mean.

Da looked at him, his face patchworked with glimfire shadows and his eyes gleaming bright and hard. Im goin so Ill be there when things go sinkin wrong, Rafel. Im goin so mayhap I can save them fools when arrogance looks like costin em their lives. Im goin Da stopped. Took a few deep breaths. Im goin, he said more quietly, in case theres a chance I can talk em out of this afore they start.

You wont, he said. Their minds are made up, Da. As made up as yours.

I know, said Da, his voice almost a whisper. But I got to try, sprat. How will I live with mself if I dont bloody try?

He sounded so lost. So hurt. Shaken, Rafel stared at him. That aint my da. Asher of Restharven doesnt sound like that.

Come on, sprat, said Da, and like magic he was himself again. Brisk. Confident. Careless of the world and its feelings. Best we tittup home again so your ma can crack a wooden spoon over our heads. Fierce set on tidy supper times, your ma. Nasty bad habit that, but she wont give it up.

Though he was temper-churned and restless, still he had to laugh. All right.

Leaving the Chapel and the singing in the wet night behind them, they started walking towards the High Street, and home.

Da, he said, as the voices lifted plaintive towards the hidden stars. Dyou believe in all that?

All what? said Da, steadily tramping.

Suddenly he felt awkward. Embarrassed. But hed started it, so hed have to keep going. You know. Chapel. Praying. Barls mercy. Dyou think shes real?

She was real, Da said, after a moment. She were a flesh and blood woman, Rafe. She lived and breathed and walked these streets.

I know that. Why couldnt Da ever just answer a question? But now? Dyou reckon shes watching over us now? Hears us praying? Does what we ask?

Da grunted. Theyd reached the steep part of High Street, where it tilted straight towards the palace ground gates. Walking fast was a puffing business.

Aint that a question for the likes of Barlsman Jaffee?

I already know what he thinks. I want to know what you think. I want to know if

If we be foolin ourselves, prayin? Da said, breathing hard. Fillin our bellies with false hope like you filled yours full of ale tonight? Da shook his head. I dknow, Rafe. Thats the truth. Mayhap we are. Mayhap them folk back there singin their hearts out aint bein heard by nobody but us. But if it makes em feel better if it gives em strength to go on when they be frighted does it matter? Folk need somethin to cling to when the waters turn rough.

They are rough, arent they? Lurs in trouble, Da. Real trouble.

Aye, Da said heavily. It surely is.

So when do we leave for Westwailing?

In the damp, ill-lit darkness he could feel his fathers surprise. His cautious pleasure. That means youre comin, does it?

The brewery wasnt going anywhere. He could earn himself some coin there when he got back. Hed send a message to Goose. His friend would understand.

Yes. Im coming.

Well head out tomorrow, early as we can, said Da. I want to get down there afore Pintte and Garrick and them fools they be takin with em turn up. I want some time to get a feel for the place, specially now. I want to see if what they want to do can be done.

And that made him stare, and slow down a bit. And if it can be? Will you help them?

If it can be Ill have to, wont I?

How? Therell be no Olken magic used, Da. Every last spell will be Doranen.

Aye, well, said Da, suddenly cagey. I got me a few tricks up my sleeve.

The trunk. Durms secret spell books and scrolls. The ones he wasnt meant to know about. He nodded, careless. Trying to look innocent.

Thats good, Da. Thats good to know.

They walked in silence the rest of the way home.

At first light next morning, in a steady mizzle, they loaded up their carriage and trundled out of Dorana City, heading for the coastal township of Westwailing.

It was a miserable journey. Thirteen days of patchy rain, high winds, two hailstorms and four more juddering earth tremors. The carriage bogged three times and they broke a wheel once. That happened on a lonely stretch of road between Flat Iron and Slumly Corners. Doranen magic took care of it, since it was Ashers turn to play coachman and there was nobody around to see.

Rafel watched his father mend the snapped spokes with absentminded ease and had to walk away, so riled did it make him. One rule for Da and another for him. And his parents wondered why he was so easily fratched.

When at long last they reached Westwailing, with Fernel Pintte and Rodyn Garrick and the rest somewhere on the road behind them, they took rooms at the Dancing Dolphin, still sailing along after so many years.

After that, it was a matter of waiting.

Dismayed and disgruntled, Asher stood with his family on Westwailings long stone pier and stared at the harbours somnolent waters. Stared beyond them to the distant, foaming breakers rolling in over Dragon-teeth Reef. Beyond the reef churned the whirlpools and treacherously random waterspouts spawned by the blighted magics left behind after Morgs destruction. The magics that had tried to kill him all those years ago. The memory was a bad one, almost as bad as what had happened to Matt and Veira and Gar.

Never wanted to think on that again, did I?

Yet here he was, thinking. Brought face to face with a past he couldnt forget or outrun.

Two days ago, the afternoon he and his family arrived in Westwailing, hed taken a skiff out to the reef. On his lonesome, though his family fratched at the notion. Twice a year, every year, someone from the fishing community sailed along the reefs edge to see if the whirlpools and the waterspouts were gone or growing weaker, but they never were. Three men had drownded, even, caught unawares. Dathne, Rafel and Deenie were frighted hed make the fourth. Hed ignored em. Seeing the reef up close again were something hed needed to do.

Holding the skiff hard against the drag of the whirlpools, sailed as close to the reef as he dared, hed watched the waterspouts spiral haveycavey from the oceans shifting surface. Squinting, hed felt the spouts spitting spray sting his face. Soak his hair and clothes. Splatter the skiffs sail. The air was full of angry sound and his whole body thudded to the racing beat of his heart. Then hed looked at the swirling, growling mouths of the whirlpools, monstrous holes in the ocean eager to suck helpless ships to their doom. Opened his mind to the rot in the reef.

It were just as bad as he remembered. He puked his lunch over the Skiffs side, feeling it. Pintte and the others were mad. He had to stop them afore it was too late. But he didnt know how.

Raised voices pulled him back to the present. Further along the pier, towards its far end, a bustle of busyness as Rodyn Garrick and his son and the Doranen mages hed brought with him prepared to challenge Morgs creeping blight. That troublesome Ain Freidin was one of emand didnt that raise some questions? Fernel Pintte bustled too, hob-nobbing with Westwailings mayor and council and chivvying the Olken fishermen whod agreedfor a steep priceto sail them all out to the reef. Fools, every last one of em.

Brooding across the harbour, he pulled his hands from his pockets and folded his arms. Im tellin you this be a sinkin bad idea.

Beside him, Dathne patted his arm. Yes, Asher. We know.

Deenie tucked her fingers into the crook of his elbow. The reef makes me shivery, she said, her voice low.

Your own shadow makes you shivery, said Rafe, scornful. Whyd you even come?

Ignoring him, cause Rafel in a stroppy mood were best handled by turning deaf, dumb and blind, Asher looked down at his daughter. The reefs bad, mouse, I know. But is that all you feel?

Dont, Da, said Rafel. Youll only set her off. You know what shes like.

Pushed, he shot his son a warning look. It were a sinkin shame Rafe had run across Arlin Garrick after breakfast, and let hisself get riled by the poxy little shit. Not that he needed much excuse right now. Dath were righttheir son might be turned twenty, but he had some growin up to do.

Twenty. I were his age when I left home for the City. Were I brash like him back then? So fearless, and bloody certain I already knew it all?

He couldnt remember. Too much had happened since. Hed sailed past forty. Forty. How were that possible?

Im all right, Da, said Deenie, with a trembly smile. Dont mind me.

Which were just like his little mouse, but didnt answer his question. Deenie, if you feel there be somethin else we

No, Da, she insisted. Dont fuss. Youll have folk looking at us. At me.

And for Deenie there could be nowt worse than that. Rafel loved attention. Thrived on crowds and noise and bein noticed. But Deenie? She werent never happier than when she were buried up to her eyebrows in a book.

She be a right proper mix of me and Dath. But Rafe? Sink me, Rafe be so like his granfer. Before Ma died, Da were the village lantern everyone followed.

Please, Da, said Deenie, giving his shirt-sleeve a little tug, her wary gaze skittering to see if theyd been overheard by the Olken and Doranen scurrying like ants about the pier.

Deenie, said Dathne. If you dont feel well we can go back to the Dolphin.

Your mas right, mouse, he said, and smoothed a hand down Deenies arm. Aint no reason for you to doddle about here if this malarkey dont amuse you.

Rafel snorted. Yshould have stayed home in Dorana, Deenie. Kept company with Charis.

No, said Deenie. Charis has enough to fret on with Uncle Pellen. She didnt need me underfoot.

Reminded of the sorrow left behind them in Dorana, Asher scowled at the piers salt-crusted stonework. Then, taking Deenies hand, he flicked a warning glance at Dathne and wandered their daughter a little ways back along the pier, towards Westwailing township where almost as many folk were gathered, hopeful of excitement, as came for the Sea Harvest Festival every year.

When they were a comfortable distance from eavesdropping ears, Pintte and Garrick and the rest of em, and Rafel, he let go of Deenies hand and slid his arm round her shoulders. She looked up at him, so trusting. A plain little thing, scrawny like her ma was back when hed first met her.

Come on, mouse, he said gently. Tell me what you feel.

Da Deenie scrunched her face. I dont like talking on that. Any road, you know already.

I know what I know, he said. Dont know what you know, do I? Come on, Deenie. Nowt much good comes of keepin secrets.

Sighing, she wrapped her thin arms around her ribs, just like her ma did, and turned her head to stare out across the harbour. Mid-morning and for the first time in days the sky was clear of rain. The unclouded sun struck glittery sparkles off the water and a salt-laden fresh breeze ruffled her short hair, rushing colour to her high-boned cheeks.

Does it matter how I feel, Da? she murmured. Wont change anything, will it.

Sadly, that were true. But he still wantedneededto know what she could sense. Ever since that stinkin night shed woke screaming cause he called warbeasts in his troubled sleep, hed fretted about her. Not the way he fretted for Rafel, who chafed against any and all restraints. He feared for Deenie because, like him, she didnt seem to care much for her magic and yet, like her brother, was cursed by him with something not given to other Olken.

It matters to me, mouse, he said. Aint it my job to keep you safe? Cant do that if I dont know whats what, eh?

She had a sweet smile, his Deenie, but now her lips were pressed flat. You cant keep me safe forever, Da. You wont be here forever.

Pellen. You and Charis been talkin, mouse? She got you all stirred up on account of her da? Dont let Pellen bein poorly fright you. I be stayin right here.

Deenie looked at him. Young, so sinkin young, but cruelly grown-up in her eyes. Until you go.

Deenie Deenie He caught her to him in a crushing hug. Pellens goin to be fine. If Morg couldnt kill him no bloody cough will. Now why dont you stop tryin to sail me off course, eh, and tell me what it is you feel.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The skirling cries of Westwailings seagulls filled the long silence. Fratched voices lifted in dispute as Fernel Pintte kept doin what he did best, raisin hackles. Patient, Asher waited till Deenie was ready to speak.

Its just the reef, Da, she whispered at last, her head tucked neatly under his chin. Thats what upsets me. I can feel the way Barls magic is tangled in it still. I can feel the whirlpools and the waterspouts. Da, theyre so hungry. Theyll gobble anyone who sails near them. And I can feel She trembled. Him. Morg. I can feel his magic. Its like a weed, Da, choking a beautiful rose. Making it feel allall twisted and ugly. Does that make sense?

So she did feel what he felt. He closed his eyes, sick with sorrow. I did this to her. Aye, mouse.

Her arms tightened round his waist. And I can feel you, Da. Youre scared. Dont say youre not, because I know.

Back along the pier, Dathne and Rafel were standing side by side, keeping well apart from everyone else. He was all stiff-spined and prickly and her hand rested between his shoulder blades in comfort. Rafe wanted to be one of the mages as broke the blighted spells on Dragonteeth Reef and gave the people of Lur hope for a different future.

Why cant I, Da? hed demanded. Arlins sailin out to help and Im a sight better mage than him. You know I am. So why cant I?

You know why, Rafe, hed replied tiredly. It aint for them to see what you can do. Not yet. Not bloody ever, if he had his way. Any road, its too dangerous.

And oh, Rafe had bellowed about that. Kicked against being protected and being told he still had to hide. From a spratling hed never accepted how careful he had to be. But then he never knew how closely the Doranen had watched him, waiting to see if hed grow freakish like his da. Theyd watched Deenie too. They still watched. Olken with the power of Doranen magic in their veins? One was enough. One had saved them. But more than one would be a fox loosed in the henhouse.

But Rafe aint never wanted to believe it. He dont want to admit that bein different aint a blessing.

So hed argued and argued to join Pintte and Garrick in their folly and only surrendered at the last gasp, with sinkin poor grace. That were Daths doing. Shed gentled him. Coaxed him to back down. Stood bridge between her son and husband, to make certain they were still speaking at the end. Which they were, but only just.

It ached him somethin awful, to be so at odds with Rafe. But how could he love his son and not try to keep him safe? What kind of a father would he be, to trust Rafe into Fernel Pinttes unchancy keeping?

Are you cross with me, Da? Deenie whispered. Did I do something wrong? If I did, Im sorry. I never meant to.

Startled, he stared down at her. Cross with you? No, mouse. I were thinkin, is all.

She laid her cheek against his chest again. Rafes mad now but hell get over it. Youre the sun and the moon and the stars to him, Da. Hes so proud of you he could burst, sometimes. And he thinks if he breaks the rotten reef magic sos we can sail away from Lur and find somewhere to live where the earth isnt screaming, then thatll make you proud of him. Thats why hes fratched.

He had to wait a moment, before he could speak. Rafe told you that?

Deenie wrinkled her nose. Dont be silly, Da. Rafe hardly ever talks to me. Im his bratty little sister. I just know. I can feel it.

Like you feel I be frighted.

Aye, she said. Like that. I dont mean to. I cant help it.

I know, mouse, he said, and kissed the top of her head. I know.

She looked up at him, her eyes swimmy with tears. Da, is something bad going to happen? Out there at the reef?

He didnt want to lie to herbut telling the truth was worse. Nowts goin to happen, mouse, he said, and tried to sound like he believed it. Like as not Pintte and Garrick and the restll get wet and catch cold, is all.

Deenie nodded, but her eyes were still swimmy. She shivered again. I dont know, Da. Im scared something might.

And what did that mean? Were she afflicted with visions now, like her ma used to be? He opened his mouth to reassure her, because he couldnt stand to see her so upsetand then cursed instead.

Fernel bloody Pintte was comin to interrupt.

Asher, Pintte said briskly, in his expensive velvet britches and his costly silk shirt and the weskit with gold peacocks on it that made him look like a fool. And his mayoral chain of office, of course. Couldnt dare let folk forget for a heartbeat he were Mayor of Dorana.

Pellen, Pellen, whyd you go and get sick?

Fernel, he said, leaving his arm round Deenies shoulders. Nice day its turned out. You be sure you want to spoil it?

Ignoring Deenie, Pintte looked down his nose. There was something about the man, something furtive, that reminded him of that sea-slug Willer.

Or could be its his bloody peacock weskit.

Spoil it? said Pintte, sneering. Ten years later, and hed not forgiven the way hed been chased from Pellens house. The burning memory was in his eyes, buried deep but not deep enough. I think you meant to say save it. So. Let me ask you again, Asher. Will you join us? For this is your last chance to do something for the kingdom.

Before he could answer, Deenie slipped out from under his arm and leapt at Doranas mayor. His timid tiddy mouse, biting the mangy cat. Bless her. How dare you say that? My das done more for Lur than anyone since Barl. More than youll ever do. Her fists were clenched, the swimmy tears streaming down her salt-kissed cheeks. You ought to listen to him, Meister Pintte. You shouldnt be doing this! Its wrong.

Fernel Pinttes eyes were popped wide in shock. Almost he took a step back. Asher! Control your unruly daughter or Ill banish your family to shore. Youve been allowed onto this pier as a courtesy only.

Banish my family. Aye, he would, the poxy shit. No authority here, not in Westwailing, but hed find a way to throw his weight around regardless. Just like sea-slug Willer, Fernel Pintte were that kind of man.

Deenie Swallowing temper, he touched his little girls shoulder. Reckon your ma might like some company, eh? He nodded down the pier, where Dath now stood on her lonesome. Rafe had wandered away, and was talking to one of the Westwailing fishermen gettin the chosen boat ready to sail.

Deenie looked. All right, Da. She kissed his cheek. Glowered a last time at Fernel Pintte. Turned on her heel, almost flouncing, and swished along the pier in her new silk skirt. Glospottle blue it was, and didnt she look fine.

At his leisure he shifted his gaze back to Fernel Pintte. Looked the man up and down. Did he even have the nouse to be a little bit nervous? Or were he so puffed up with self-consequence, so sure the Mayor of Dorana could snap his fingers and command the oceans waves, that he were convinced he and his Doranen cronies were safe as eggs in a hen?

You plan on sailin out to the reef with Garrick and them others, Fernel?

Pinttes nostrils narrowed with displeasure. Of course.

You might want to rethink that.

No, I dont believe I do.

Fernel With an effort, Asher tamped down his temper again. Look. Forget it be me sayin it. Forget we dont like each other and I once made you run away like a lass and lissen, would you? There aint nowt you and them Doranen can do to break the reef. You

Air hissed between Fernel Pinttes clenched teeth. Asher, Im no more interested in your arguments now than I was in Dorana. All I want to know is

Forget what you want and let me tell you what you need, he snapped. Cause Im tryin to save your life, Fernel. Barl alone knows why. The only thing youll do on that bloody boat is get in Rodyn Garricks way and then most probly die along with him, his poxy son and them fools hes talked into doin this with him.

Barls tits, said Pintte, choking, and half-turned away. If youre not the most arrogant He turned back again, his face red with suppressed fury. Are you so bloated with past glories you think youll be forgiven for refusing to lift a finger now, in Lurs direst hour of need?

The urge to kick Pintte into the harbour was almost overwhelming. I dont give a shit about the past, Fernel. All I can think on is the next bloody hour. I dont want to spend it watchin you drown! So swallow your pride, accept I know what Im talkin on and do what I say stead of

Asher, enough, said Pintte, throwing up one hand. And for the love of all things Olken say youll come out to the reef with us. Loathe you as I truly do, I cant deny your power, or forget youre the only Olken mage who can wield Doranen magic, or that youve already defeated Morgs evil once. Pintte grabbed his arm, shaking him. Your skills could tip the balance in our favour! You cant turn your back!

Wrenching his arm free, Asher shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldnt throttle the stupid bastard. I bloody can, Fernel, cause what skills I got wont make a sinkin bit of difference.

You dont know that!

Yes, I do! Last time

Forget last time! Pintte shouted. It was twenty years ago! Asher, you have to know how important it is that we undo the magic in that reef. With our way cleared to open water then

Aye? Then what? he said, suddenly tired. We break the reef, collapse the whirlpools and the waterspouts, then what, Fernel? You herd the Doranen onto boats, like sheep, and set em sailin towards the horizon? Till they run out of water and vittles or get sunk in a storm? Be that your notion, Meister Mayor? Kick em all out of Lur, good luck and good riddance?

They want to leave, said Fernel, his pouched cheeks stained red. Mayhap Rodyn Garrick wants to scarper, he said. I heard a whisper on it, and Barl knows hes pushin this reef business as hard as you. And his mate over there, Sarle Baden. He must want it, or like as not he wouldnt be here. Ain Freidin and Ennet Vail the same. But

And if they do want to leave, Asher, who are you to say no?

All right, Fernel, so they want to, he snapped. Thats four Doranen out of how many, ezackly? And what makes you think they aint the only ones? Cause I aint heard any other Doranen clamourin to leave. Have you?

Fernel Pinttes chin tilted again. Thats not the point, is it? Its not their wishes Im concerned with. Its the welfare of this land. Our land.

Jervales bloody bunions, Pintte! he said, itching to shake some bloody sense into the fool. How are the Doranen hurtin Lur? I must be goin blind cause I cant see any damage.

Well, youre right about that much, said Pintte. You are blind, Asher. They are Doranen. Conquest and domination are in their blood. They usurped us once and they will usurp us again now that Lur is steeped so deep in trouble. Trouble you dont even seem to notice.

Asher stared at Fernel Pintte. Forget shakin the bastard. I want to throttle him. You think I dont know were in trouble, Fernel? Trust me, I know.

Then help us! Pintte implored. Our one sure defence against Doranen magic is youand what good are you? You cant fix whats gone wrong and you wont break magics hold on that cursed reef! And it can be broken.

Says who? Rodyn Garrick? You be willin to risk your life on his say-so? Fernel He spread his arms wide. The only reason Gar-ricks climbed so high is cause all the good Doranen mages be long dead!

Pintte stepped close, salt air rasping in his throat. The gleam in his eyes was unsettling, and desperate. Lurs time is running out, Asher. Escape from this prison is our only hopenot only against the treacherous Doranen, but against famine, flood, tremors and this ungovernable weathercalamities which I know in my heart they have caused. Why do you refuse to see it?

Only thing I see, he retorted, be an Olken whos let fear and bitterness twist him so ugly he Breathing hard, he bit back the rest. Fernel, the Doranen aint our enemies and what you be plannin to do here aint the answer to our woes. You muck about with that reef and all youll do is make things in Lur a sinkin sight worse.

Pinttes pointed finger jabbed him in the chest. Do you know what your problem is, Asher? Youre still a lackey of that dead royal family. But the Doranen arent our friendsand youre the only one who cant see it. You lived in their pockets for so long youve forgotten youre Olken. He stepped back. Or maybe you never were. Maybe that taint of Doranen magic in your blood

Shut your bloody mouth, Fernel! he said, his vision hazing with rage. Afore I

Afore you what? said Fernel Pintte, scornful. Kill me with your Doranen powers? And how would that make you any better than Morg? He laughed, a nasty sound. You might want to climb down out of that Tower of yours, Asher. When it comes to the Doranen youd be surprised by how many people think as I do.

Sickened to vomiting, more like. You bloody fool. You be set to stir trouble the likes of which we aint seen for centuries. And as for that reef, Ill tell you for the last time. Them mages wont break it. All theyll do is get the lot of you killed.

Fernel stepped back, his face twisted with contempt. I cant force you to help. But there will be consequences for refusing, Asher. For you and your family.

Asher met him stare for cold stare. You threatenin my wife and children?

Im stating a fact, said Pintte, eyes glittering with malice. And heres a few more for you to chew on. This working will succeed. It will cleanse Dragonteeth Reef of its remaining foul magics. It will collapse the whirlpools and the waterspouts and clear the way for the Doranen to leave. And for the first time since Barl and her thieving friends crossed the mountains, Lur will belong to the Olken once more.

He shook his head, disbelieving. Youre mad, Fernel.

A final word of warning, Asher, said Pintte, oblivious. Interfere, and youll be banished from Westwailing for life.

My brother tried that once. Didnt work. But dont you fret, Fernel, he said, smiling. Feeling savage. You want to kill yself, you go right ahead. Probly I wont even shed a tear after.

With a snarling hiss, Fernel turned on his heel and stalked back along the pier to the Doranen and Westwailings mayor and council. On a gust of breeze, the sound of pipes and drums as Westwailings town band struck up another jaunty tune. With sudden foreboding Asher remembered the Sea Harvest Festival that had nearly drowned him and Gar. Saw dozens killed and Westwailing wrecked to rubble.

I never shouldve let Dath and the sprats come with me. I shouldve put mfoot down, and made em stay at home.

But there was no point moanin over that now. They were here. Fernel Pintte and Rodyn Garrick and them other fools, they were set on muckin about with fire. And when they got their fingers burned when dead and dusted Morg burned em

Sink me bloody sideways. I shouldve stayed at home too.

Rafel wondered, just for a moment, whether he should risk Das wrath and step between him and Fernel Pintte before they came to blows. Snatches of their heated brangle blew to him on the lively breeze, words like fool and dangerous and arrogant. Fighting words. Jabbing fingers. Waving arms. Any ticktock theyd be rolling on the pier like tomcats, surely.

But Da wont thank me for sticking my nose in. Da aint interested in anything Ive got to say. I wasted my time traipsing all the way down here. I shouldve stayed in Dorana and helped Goose make his ale.

Temper simmering, he glanced around the pier. Behind him, Mama stood with Deenie, whod done nowt but sigh and mope ever since theyd reached the coast. Arlin Garrick and his da, and the other Doranen mages, they were huddled whispering and pointing out to the reef. Making their plans to see it broken once and for all. Westwailings mayor and his followers milled about like lost sheep, casting anxious glances first at the Doranen and then at Da and Fernel Pintte, still arguing. The other Olken on the pier, the fishermen, ignored everything save the task of getting their smack ready to brave the distant reef.

The rest of Westwailings fishing fleet floated at rest, tucked safely out of the way of the upcoming magework. Rafel frowned at it. Funny. The family had visited the coast a handful of times in his life. Hed even been out on a fishing boat once, with some of the cousins he counted practically as strangers. Hadnt much cared for it. Found it hard to imagine Da living that life, fish and stink and guts and hard work, scales and blisters and calluses and salt. Da still talked of moving back down here, leaving the City and coming to live beside the ocean.

He can if he wants. Mama too, and Deenie. But I wont. Thats his dream, not mine. Ive got my own dreams and no matter what he says Ill live them. Whatever he says, I will be a great mage.

Rafe

Mama. He shoved his hands in his pockets and kept on staring at the moored fleet. He didnt want to hear her defending Da, again. Taking his side, again.

Once, just once, I wish shed take my side.

I could do it, yknow, he said, letting his gaze stray from the tethered smacks to the reef. If he squinted, hard, he could just make out the waterspouts dancing beyond it. I wouldnt disgrace you in front of Rodyn Garrick and his friends.

Disgrace us? Rafe Mama took hold of his arm and pulled him round to face her. Her eyes were shocked. This has nothing to do with Rodyn Garrick or any Doranen, or with us fearing youd let us down. This is about doing whats right.

What Da thinks is right, he muttered. But Mama

Her fingers tightened on his sleeve. No, Rafe. Not again. And you should know better. Theres not a mage in this whole kingdom, Olken or Doranen, who understands the way your father does that some things are best left alone. How can you pretend not to know that? Youre his son. And youve been told things denied to everyone else.

Even if thats true, he said, I still dont

If its true? Mama echoed. Shock was burned away by anger. You puff and preen yourself a fine mage then stand there and say if ? Dyou mean to tell me you dont feel whats out there? What your father feels, and Deenie?

No. He couldnt tell her that. The tangle of magics in Dragonteeth Reef was bad. It tasted rotten in his mind, like maggot-ridden meat. And worse than that, it was strong. Twenty years, his whole life, and it hadnt grown weaker by even a breath. No doubt on it, the task of breaking it was dangerous.

But I dont care. I could do it. I know I could. The powers in me.

He tugged his arm from his mothers grasp. I dont reckon this is about whats risky. This is about Da. He wont let me help Garrick and the others cause he doesnt want to be shown up as wrong about the reef.

Mama gasped. Rafelare you blind? Your father doesnt care about being wrong, he cares about people dying for no reason! Hes come here against every opposition to try and save Fernel Pintte and the Doranen from their overweening arrogance, which puts all of us in danger!

You keep saying that, Mama, both of you do, but

Because we know a little about this, Rafel, she snapped. Weve lived a few more years than you. I know your father, better than anyone alive. If he cant stop those fools hes going to blame himself for what happens because of them. It wont be his fault, itll be theirs, but hell still blame himself. And ifno, whenthings go horribly wrong out at that reef, Rafel, dyou know what hell do then? Hell risk his life for them, though they sneer and jeer and call him coward behind his back. Coward! When he saved every life in this kingdom. Was prepared to die for it. When they howled for his blood, when theyand now you, his son, you

Her angry grief doused his temper. Im sorry, he said, reaching for her. I didnt meanMama, Im sorry. He folded her against him, feeling the past shudder through her, feeling shamed and chastened. Feeling like a bad son. Please, Mama, dont fratch yourself. It was twenty years ago. Dont

It was yesterday, she said, wrenching out of his arms. For him and for me. You dont know, Rafe. For all the stories Darran told you, trust me, you dont know. What it cost him. What it still costs. What your fathers had to do since

Mama? he said, staring down at her. She was so small now. She used to be the tallest woman in the world. What is it? Did something happen you never

No. Nothing happened, she said. There were tears on her cheeks. Dont mind me, Rafe. Im tired, thats all.

And that was a lie. His parents were keeping secrets again. One of these days, soon, theyd have to stop treating him like a child. Theyd have to.

Footsteps behind him. Slow. Almost hesitant. Da. And then a gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder.

Rafe. Rafe. You think I dont know how hard you want to be part of that mageworking? Da asked. I do. And I know right now you dont care for me overmuch. But I cant let that fret me. Better you alive and not likin me, than you thinkin me the best da in Lur as you die.

His father was trying to wheedle him. He didnt want to be wheedled. Shrugging free, stepping aside, he turned. It aint certain Id die.

It aint certain you wouldnt, Da retorted. Like Mama, his eyes were full of pain. Reckon Im about to risk you on a maybe?

What I reckon, he said, through gritted teeth, is that youve got to let me make my own choices.

Da shook his head. Not this time, sprat.

Sprat. I aint a bloody sprat, Da! Im

I know what you be, Rafe, said Da, his voice strangled tight. You be the bloody heart beatin in my chest. You goin to stand there and look me in the eye and ask me to rip it out? With my own hands? Ask me to throw it on the ground at your mas feet and say, There you go, woman. Thats how much I love your son. Eh? Is that what youre goin to do now, Rafe?

And what was he sposed to say to that? He had nowt to say. Da was more than wheedling, he was playing dirty, like a gutter drunk, and there was nowt he could say.

Then he didnt have to even try finding words, because there was a bustling behind them. Raised voices, boots scuffling on the stone pier. He and Da looked round to see Fernel Pintte and Lord Garrick and his poxy son Arlin and the other Doranen mages tromping down the pier towards the battered, fishless fishing boat as was set aside to take them out to the reef.

Pintte and Lord Garrick never missed a step or turned their heads. But Arlin, passing, slowed almost to stopping and smiled wide. He reeked of insolence and contempt. Meister Asher. Rafel.

Arlin, said Da quietly. Barls blessin on you.

Arlin laughed. As if we need it.

You need somethin, Da replied. You need a bloody miracle. Arlin! snapped Rodyn Garrick over his shoulder, and Arlin hurried to catch up.

Sarle Baden, Ennet Vail and Ain Freidin didnt slow, or speak. They were trying to pretend Da wasnt even here. That hurt. Did it hurt Da too?

Even if it did, hed never let on. Hes my da but at times like this I dont know him.

Asher, said Mama, joining them, Deenie at her side. We dont have to stay here. We can go back to the inn. We can pack, and go home.

Da shook his head. I cant, Dath. He took one step after the Doranen mages and Pintte. Dath, I

Mamas fingers caught hold of his green-and-bronze striped sleeve. No, Asher. Its too late. Theyll not let you join them now. Not even if you begged. Theyd let you beg, and then theyd laugh in your face.

The look in Das eyes when he turned to Mama near broke Rafels heart. I shouldve found a way to stop em, Dath.

Mama captured Das shoulders with both hands. Dont, she said fiercely. What theyre doing? Its their choice. The Innocent Mage warned them and they wouldnt listen. No blame falls on you.

As Da held on to Mama like a desperate man, Deenie whimpered and pressed a fist against her chest. Tears filled her eyes. She was such a watering pot. I dont feel good. Da, make them change their minds.

Letting go of Mama, Da stared at the fishing boat. Its crew was all aboard, and its passengers were climbing in after. Cant, mouse. Your mas right. It be too late. Dath take her back to the Dolphin.

Mamas face was all pinched. Sunlight gleamed and glittered the silver strands in her hair. What about you? Asher

Dont start on me, Dath. Just get Deenie away from here.

Come, Deenie, said Mama, her voice still hard, but her face gone crumply. You too, Rafe.

He opened his mouth to protest, even though he knew it wouldnt do him a mite of good. But Da spoke first.

No, he said. I want Rafe with me.

Stunned, Mama stared at him. What? Asher, no. Rafe cant

Hes right, Dath. He aint a sprat, said Da, so grim. And when this goes bad Ill need him. I cant do it alone.

Youll have to, said Mama, her eyes terrible. Hes not ready. Hes not trained. He

I werent trained neither, said Da. His eyes were terrible too. I got pushed in the deep end. Was you did the pushin, as I recall.

Asher

The magics in him, Dath, Da said roughly. Deenie was shivering. Da never spoke rough to Mama. Its in him just like its in me. And I need it. Hell manage.

Mama Rafel reached for her. Dont fret. I can

But she knocked his arms aside. Youre just a boy, you dont know anything! Asher, he cant.

Da and Mama stared at each other. Something was going on; they were brangling without words now. He looked at Deenie, who shook her head. She didnt understand either.

Dathne, Ill fix it, Da said, his voice soft again. Sorry. Hell have what he needs. Hell be safe. I promise.

And the Doranen? Mama demanded. Her eyes were full of tears. She was nearly weeping.

Da sighed, then pulled a face. Looks like I were wrong. Looks like we cant keep him secret forever.

And Mama gave up. Just like that. She gave up, so heartbroken Fine.

Mouse, said Da. You sit tight. Me and Rafell see you soon. Deenie flung her arms around Das neck, and Da held on to her like they were both drowning, then released her.

Be careful, Rafe, Deenie whispered, and patted his chest. Look after Da.

He tried to smile at his spratty, bratty, watering pot sister. I will. Mama

You, she said, glaring. The tears were spilled on her cheek now. Both of you. Stepping close, reaching up, she pulled his head down and kissed his brow. Reached for Da, and kissed him hard on the lips. Then she took Deenies hand and they walked away, past the Mayor of West-wailing and his cronies, with Deenie looking back over her shoulder.

Rafel lifted a hand. Waggled his fingers at her, just once, then frowned at his father. Something was niggling. Dathne, Ill fix it. Da, what did you mean, youll fix it? Fix what? Fix me?

With its yellow sails flapping gaily and its broad, light blue hull cleaving the harbours gentle waters, the fishing boat headed away from the pier. Da stared past it towards the ruined, malevolent reef.

Figure of speech, that was. Youll need a helpin hand to do this. Dont fret, Rafe. Ill see you right.

I aint fretting, he said. I just He shook his head, baffled. I dont understand, Da. You wont help Garrick and the others break the reef, and you wont let me help them break it, but youll risk yourselfyoull risk meto save them when it goes wrong. How does that work?

I dknow, said Da, shrugging. It just does.

Da

Rafe, it just does. Da turned then, and gently shook his shoulder. This were always goin to end bloody, sprat. But doin it my way, that means when it be all said and done, folksll know you had nowt to do with the blood. Theyll know all you did was try to save some lives. And that be the only thing that matters.

Something in Das voice, in his eyes, made his heart thud. He nodded. All right.

Rafel Da cleared his throat. Yknow I love you, eh? Yknow Id bloody walk through fire for you?

Theyd had a fratched time of it lately, one way or another. Snapping and snarling and glowering, all at odds. Lectures on Charis. Brangles over magic. Seemed lately they couldnt find even two sweet words to swap.

Aye, he said, when he could trust himself. Course I do. Same as I would for you, Da. Any day. All day.

Overhead the gulls whirled and wailed, their harsh voices smothering the cheerful music gusting to them from shore. Small waves slapped at the pier. Crawling in his blood, the rotten magic in the reef.

So. What now?

Now, sprat? We wait, said Da. He sounded angryand resigned. And we cross every one of our fingers, besides. Cause theres you, and theres me, and there aint nobody else.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Arlin. For the love of Barl, must you disgrace me?

Belly still churning even though hed just emptied it, Arlin wiped his mouth on his fouled silk sleeve. Sorry, sir, he muttered. But I cant help it. I

Hold your tongue, his father commanded. And get control of yourself. You can start by letting go of that rail. The weathers fine yet youre acting as though were sailing through a storm.

Yes, sir, he said, and unclamped his fingers from the fishing boats side. Made himself stand upright, even as the cramps in his gut demanded he bend himself double and upend his stomachs lining onto the slimy, fish-scaled deck.

Casting him a last look of disgust his father walked away, rejoining Sarle Baden, Ennet Vail and AinLady Freidinin the fishing boats blunt bow. Barls tits, the smack stank of rotten guts. Why wouldnt he be puking with that stench fouling his nostrils and throat with every breath? And the weather might be stormless but the waves beneath the boats hull were rhythmic and relentless, rolling rolling

With an anguished moan he threw himself over the railing again, as his retching body tried to turn inside out and his eyeballs strained so hard he thought theyd burst.

Not to worry, said a nearby fisherman, coiling a tarred rope. Aint every man as takes to the water, young lord.

Arlin eased off the rail and glowered at him. Who asked you? Sail the boat, clod, and mind your own business.

The Olken blinked, his face smoothing blank. Aye. Right you are, then. Sorry to interrupt. Sir.

Ignorant fool. The trouble with Olken was they had no respect. Not any more. Not since they started considering themselves equals. His father was right about one thing, at least: Durms stupidity had done more than see the Wall destroyed. It had destroyed a way of life. Destroyed centuries of obedience, of acceptance that the Doranen were naturally superior and always would bepathetic pretensions to Olken magic notwithstanding.

Lurs ruined now. Let the Olken have it. Somewhere beyond these shores theres a land fit for the Doranen. Not our ancestral homeland. Fathers wrong about that, old Dorana is surely long lost to us. But there is somewhere. And once that cursed reefs broken well quit this Olken-ridden wasteland and find it.

The cramps in his belly had finally eased. Turning his face into the salt-soaked breeze he sucked in a deep breath and waited, but his belly stayed quiet. Perhaps the worst was finally over. Profoundly hoping so, he made his unsteady way forward to his father, who stood in serious, low-voiced conversation with his companions, all three mages close friends and allies in the notion that Lur had nothing to offer the Doranen any more. The Olken mayor stood with them, deluded into thinking he was relevant to the mornings events. He wasnt. For all the good his magic would do, he might just as well as spit on Dragonteeth Reef.

But hes useful, so we tolerate him. His ignorant antipathy towards the Doranen plays neatly into Fathers plans.

Father favoured him with a cold smile as he reached the bow. Good. Were nearly there, Arlin. Are you clear on how this working is to proceed?

Yes, sir, he said, nodding. My lords, my lady, he added to the others. Meister Mayor. My apologies. Something tainted in what I was served for breakfast, I fear.

Indifferent murmurs from Baden and Vail, who rarely had any time for him. An affronted stare from Pintte. And Lady FreidinAinnodded, unsmiling. She never smiled at him. For eight years shed been his secret tutor, taught him everything she knew, helped him discover the length and breadth of his talentsand how better to hide themand never once had she smiled. He was over his childish infatuation with her, of course. But still. One smile. Was it too much to ask?

Shading his eyes, Arlin looked across the stretch of water in front of them to the foam and froth of ocean breaking over the reef. Hardly distant at all now. The wind had picked up, and the fishing boat was making good time. Beyond the reef the waterspouts danced, capricious and deadly, and whirlpools yawned with deep, wide mouths. Their churning roar sounded a low, predatory warning.

He felt his guts clench again, and ruthlessly banished the fear. I am ready for this. I am a great mage. And he was eager, so eager, to prove that were true. Hed waited in the shadows long enough.

Fernel Pintte cleared his throat. As you know, sirs, madam, we Olken have a particular affinity for all things natural, he announced. Since my arrival in Westwailing I have been focusing my thoughts and feelings upon Dragonteeth Reef. I am comfortably certain that we have chosen its most vulnerable section. And as you battle the poisons Barl and Morg left behind I shall lend you my strength in prayer, so we can achieve victory.

In private Father called Doranas mayor a shrill pipsqueakbut now he smiled, at his most frostily genial, and offered Pintte a polite half-bow. Your help will be most welcome, Meister Mayor. The task before us is daunting.

Pinttes eyes narrowed. But achievable, yes?

Oh yes, said Father, the merest hint of an edge to his voice. To be questioned over magic by an Olken? That was an insult keen as any sharp blade. I assure you, Meister Mayor, our goal is quite achievable. We do not seek to destroy all the magic still sunk in the reef. Just this small stretch of it.

Precisely, said Pintte. Thats all youre asked to do.

Fathers lips curved again, but his eyes were chips of blue ice. I suggest you find somewhere unobtrusive to sit now, sir, so you can lend us your prayers undisturbed. We must prepare for the working.

From the look on his face Pintte cared not at all for being dismissed, but he was truly a fool if he thought he belonged here with real mages. He withdrew, and Father beckoned everyone closer.

Make no mistake, he said, his sweeping gaze cold with purpose, this working will test us as we have never before been tested. Barl and Morg between them have set a challenge that doubtless wouldve daunted King Borne himself, or Durm. But we are equal to the task. The future of every Doranen trapped in this misbegotten backwater depends upon us, therefore we must be equal to it. Follow my lead. Tread where I tread. Do not let yourselves run ahead of me. Especially you, Arlin.

He dropped his betraying gaze to the tilting deck. Father was always doing that. Had done it ever since he could remember: diminished him in public even as he boasted of his sons prowess in private, to those he trusted. He knew why, of course. It was to preserve their secret.

But it still hurt.

Yes, sir.

It is vital that we maintain our focus, no matter what unfolds around us, his father continued. Unless we press against the reefs weak spot with our conjoined wills, undiluted, we will not break through the barrier that keeps us from the world. It will take every last drop of our sweat and power to collapse the whirlpools and the waterspouts along this stretch of reef. But once we have done so Fathers face lit with a rare, genuine smile. Then it will be a simple matter of destroying the reef itself, giving us access to open water. And thenthen

Behind them, one of the Olken sailors shouted. Reef ho! Reef ho, Captain!

They all pushed to the bows railing, and saw that the sailor had not mistaken the case. Directly ahead of them lay Dragonteeth Reef, foamed with breaking water, spray spitting high into the air. Beyond it, magic-spawned waterspouts and whirlpools. Even as they stared two more towering spouts spumed into life, whipping up from the oceans restless surface. As those two were born three others further out died, collapsing with great wet slaps across the reef and into the surging salt water. Droning ceaseless beneath them, the ravenous whirlpools.

Lord Garrick! A word!

Father turned. Yes, Hayle?

The fishing boats captain was a young man, short and muscled and crusted with salt. Something indefinable about him was reminiscent of Rafels father. An air, an attitude, an indifference that grated the nerves. Olken arrogance: it was a hard thing to stomach.

Can you do what you do from here? the captain demanded, standing before them with his fists on his hips and his booted feet spread wide. Only this be the end of mild water weve reached. Here on in, the whirlpools and the spouts be set to rile things up. And I aint lookin to have my boat driven onto the Teeth and smashed to matchsticks.

Father looked back to the reef, frowning. Was it too far away for the working? Doranen magic was strong. But was it strong enough to reach from here?

If this is the best you can do, said Father, grudging, then so be it. We will just have to compensate for your inadequacy, wont we?

The Olken captains eyes squinted in a frown. How long dyou think to take on this?

How long? Father spread his hands. As long as we require. Hayle, we seek to free Lur from the last bondage of Morgs evil. Do you mean to suggest youve somewhere more important to be?

Well heave to, then, said the Olken, his face stained dark red. And sit tight.

Father turned his back on the fool, dismissing him. Then he raised a beckoning hand. Arlin.

As the boats captain retreated, barking orders to the crew, he stepped close. Father?

Time to prepare ourselves, he said quietly. Were close enough. Open yourself and tell me what you feel.

Aside from seasick, you mean? But if he gave the thought a voice Father would banish him to twiddle his thumbs with Pintte. You need me now. Ill not jeopardise that. So he closed his eyes, ignoring the shouts and running feet of the fishermen as they obeyed their captains orders, pushed away the lingering nausea in his emptied belly and focused on the reef. Loosened his rigorously guarded senses and reached out to taste its magic.

Faugh! he exclaimed, revolted, and stared at his father in shock. Thatbut its foul. II cant taste any of Barls sweetness. Does aught of her workings survive?

His father nodded. It does. Even his intimidating composure seemed shaken. Around them, their fellow mages looked equally dismayed. But only barely. Morgs magic has had twenty years to infect this place. Like a pestilence it has multiplied. It shouldve been mage-worked at the first.

I thought Asher tried.

He did, said his father. He tried, and he failed. And then after Holze failed soon after, and Asher told the days Council that it couldnt be done, they believed him without question. Fathers face twisted. Because he was the Innocent Mage. Because he killed Morg. Becausebecause Rage was choking his voice. Because twenty years ago we let guilt addle our reason and turn us into milkmaids.

You didnt speak out? he said, unthinking.

The look Father gave him was so cruel and so cold he thought the blood would freeze in his veins. He stumbled backwards, bumping into Sarle Baden.

My apologies, sir, he muttered. Forgive me. And wasnt sure if it was Sarle he addressed, or his father.

Sarle said something excusing and stepped around him to stand at Fathers left hand. Ain moved to his right hand, and Ennet Vail stood beside Sarle. Then Father turned his back, and the others turned with him. The message perfectly clear, he looked at the deck again, just for a moment, then sighed out his feelings until he was empty. Almost empty. As empty as he could make himself, with so many feelings swallowed.

Follow me, said Father, his voice low and slow. This workings purpose is to unbuild what was built. To destroy what was created. To purify what was poisoned. We begin with Ramins Threefold-charm of Dissolution. Shintak takshin. Dodekma madodek. Shindodek tama. Adek. Adek. Adek

Reciting the spell, sketching its sigils on the salty air, Arlin forgot he was seasick forgot his frustration, and Ain forgot the useless Olken mayor behind him and the fishing boats crew and Asher, cowering on the harbours pier. Forgot Rafel, cowering with him. All that mattered was Dragonteeth Reef. All that mattered was not disappointing his father.

Opened fully to the reefs foulness, he felt bile crawl up his throat. Felt his bruised belly quiver. Heard the small sounds of disgust from his fathers powerful friends as they too let down their defences and embraced in full the bitter magics sunk into the reef.

There was no sound from Father, of course, save the soft, spitting urgency of Ramins dissolution spell.

And if he can stomach it then Barls bloody tits so can I.

Westwailings mayor and most of its officials had returned to the crowded foreshore. Two men were left behind, wearing stout wooden truncheons and watchful expressions. Ordered by Fernel bloody Pintte, Da reckoned, to keep a close eye on em. Nosy bastards.

Stranded at the far end of the long stone pier with his father, staring across the wide expanse of harbour stretching between them and the reef, Rafel twitched as he felt the first roil of clean Doranen magic stir his blood.

Da, stamping from one side of the pier to the other, stopped still and lifted his head. Here we go.

The dot of blue and yellow fishing smack shifted on the distant, uneasy water. Doranen magic roiled again, clashing with the reefs foulness. Rafel felt bile scald his throat, his mouth. He heard his father grunt. Saw him shift a half-step, bracing himself.

Sink it.

What, Da? he said, alarmed. What

This aint no bloody use, said Da, glaring towards the reef. We aint nowhere near close enough. This far away we be tits on a bull.

Hed wondered about that, but when his father didnt mention it and he was wary of seeming pushy. He glanced at the watchdog officials. Maybe, Da, but this is as close as were going to get. Those two wont let us set foot off

Ha, said Da. Like they got a say in it. Turning, he raked his fierce gaze along the nearby line of moored smacks and skiffs and harbour runabouts. Dont need nowt fancy. Just somethin as wont sink when things get a mite frisky

Stunned, he glanced again at the officials. Suspicious now, their hands were resting on those truncheons. Dawaityou want us to steal a boat?

Borrow.

Stealborrowhe doubted the mayors watchdogs would notice the difference. Da

Da scowled at him. Rafe, we aint got a choice.

Another surge of soiled magic washed through him, and through Da. Stronger this time, with a hint of bared teeth. He saw his own sickness reflected in his fathers abruptly pale face.

Youre right, he said, blotting cold sweat from his forehead. But what about

Ill take care of em, said Da. Rafe

And right then, between heartbeats, he saw Da change his mind. Saw sudden fear swamp the sickness. Saw his grim resolve fail.

He stepped closer. Forget it, Da. Im coming.

No, said Da, shaking his head. Your mas right. I cant risk you, sprat. You aint ready. Not for this.

Are you ready? he said, stepping closer again. Is anyone? Da

No, said Da. I aint goin to push you in the deep end, Rafe.

Youre not pushing, Im jumping! he retorted. With my eyes wide open. Like you said, Da, I aint a sprat any more. This is my choice and you need me, soso stop flapping your lips, why dont you? We got to get out to that reef before its too late.

Da stared at him, furiously dumbstruck. Silver in his hair now, just like Mama. Silver in the unshaven stubble on his cheeks and chin. Lines grooved round his mouth, spiderwebbing his eyes. Older, and thinner, and more tired than hed let on.

Then he shook his head. Sink me sideways, Rafe, you got a bloody mouth on you. Whered you get that mouth, eh?

Rafel grinned, though his heart was hammering him dizzy. I dknow, Da. Let me think on that a ticktock.

Very funny, Da growled. But you aint too big for a wallop.

Wallop me after, he suggested. Right now weve got to go.

As though pleading his case, the harbour waters slapped against the stone pier, harder and higher. The tethered fishing fleet, agitated, tugged at its moorings. And the salty sea breeze shivered, stinking of Morg.

Da took him by the shoulder, his grip almost desperate. Yknow this aint a game, Rafe? Yknow we could die?

It was on the tip of his tongue to say something clever, something full of bravado. And if this was Goose he was staring at, he would have. But it was Da.

He nodded. I know. And Ill try not to. Ill try my best to see you dont, either. But Dawere who we arewhat we arefor a reason. And if we waste that, well, I reckon we wont like ourselves much.

Silence, as Da stared at him. And then he sighed, his eyes full of shadows. Reckon youre right, sprat. Letting go, he pointed at a cluster of boats moored close to the pier. That skiff there. Thatll do us. Get it unhitched while I take care of them two gawpin fools.

The fools shouted a warning, truncheons drawn, as he climbed down slippery stone steps and jumped onto the small, weatherbeaten skiff Da had chosen. Its dark green paint was faded and blistered, its single, undyed canvas sail copiously patched. As he unhitched its oiled mooring rope he watched Da freeze the two running watchdogs with a word.

Dont just stand there, sprat, said Da, coming down the stone stairs. Get them oars out.

What about Pinttes watchdogs? he said as he fitted the skiffs oars into their locks.

Da clambered into the small boat. Ill let em go in a ticktock. Now come on, put your back into it. Row us away from the pier.

Only mildly resentful, he plonked himself on the splintery wooden rowers seat, reached for the oars and started pulling. Da stood by the mast and stared towards the distant, poisoned reef.

Bit further, Rafe. Bit further. Come on. Wheres your elbow grease?

So he rowed a bit further, easing them away from the moored fleet and into open water, feeling the Doranen magic seethe and his muscles stretch, creaking. The pier and the statue-still watchdogs fell behind them. Fell further. Sweat stung his eyes. Turning, Da gave a sharp nod and pointed.

Vardo.

Thats a good trick, Da, he said, as the watchdogs leapt and shouted. When this is over you can show it me.

Well see, said Da, scowling. All right, Rafe. Stop rowing. Together they shipped the oars, then he turned himself round on the uncomfortable bench. They were still a long way from the blue and yellow fishing smack, and the reef.

What now?

Da looked down at him. Now you hang on.

What dyou mean hangshit!

A wave had risen beneath the shallow-drafted boat, smooth and powerful, lifting them and surging them towards the arrogant Doranen mages who thought they were strong enough to break Morgs hold on the reef.

Clutching the bench with both hands, Rafel stared drop-jawed at his father. Come on, Da. You got to show me how to do that!

Do I? said Da, eyebrows lifting. After what you used to get up to in your bath?

Jaw-dropped again, he swallowed. You knew about that?

Course I bloody did, said Da, as the huge wave hed summoned carried them swiftly across the wide harbour. Piss poor mage Id be if I couldnt feel that goin on under my own roof.

Youyou never said anything.

Every sprat needs his secrets, said Da, shrugging. Sides, you werent hurtin anyone. You were just lettin off steam.

Tangled with difficult feelings, he stared at the fishing smack, much closer now. Stared at the whipping waterspouts on the other side of the reef, spawned by wicked, capricious magics. Thought he could hear the throaty roar of the whirlpools. Tried not to think of being sucked down to his death.

Da

Da grunted, all his focus on keeping them aimed fast for the smack. Da, that wasnt all I did, he said, quickly, before he could change his mind. Before he could die with sins unconfessed between them. For years I pinched spells from Arlin, and I did them. All kinds of spells. And I never got one wrong.

The skiff crashed down on the harbours rolling surface. Tumbled off the splintered rowers bench, Rafel stared into his fathers shocked face.

Im sorry. I was mad. You wouldnt let meyou wouldnt teach meand Cautiously, he sat up. Im sorry.

Da dragged a hand over his spray-soaked hair. Rafel

Theres more, he said, bracing his back against the skiffs side. Its worse.

Groping for the mast, Da cleared his throat. Tell me.

His courage almost failed him, then. I shouldnt have said anything. Hes going to hate me. But it was too late now. That trunk, in your library, he said hoarsely. II picked the lock.

You picked the lock? said Da, boggled. When?

The day I felt the earth go funny. At the riverpond. Remember? Then? Da looked like he wanted to sit down, hard. Rafel, you were a sprat. You were ten. How did you unpick that sinkin lock?

I dont know. I just did. Itit wasnt hard.

Da ran a hand down his face. Sink me. And then he sucked in a sharp breath. Rafe, you didnt pinch any of the spells in

No, he said quickly. No. I swear.

Good, said Da, sagging.

Im sorry, he said again. Butat least you know for sure I can do it. Doranen magic. And with the reefI wont get in the way.

Da gave him the strangest look. Not angry. Almostalmost guilty. It didnt make sense. And then he turned to stare at the blue and yellow smack. Well talk on it later, Rafe. On your feet, now, and see how you go with a bathtub the size of a harbour, eh? Quickly, sprat. We aint got long.

That was true. Whatever Rodyn Garrick and his mages were doing, it had stirred the poisoned reef to snarling. Pain bloomed behind his eyes. Unsteady, uncertain, he clambered to his feet, reached for his magicthen hesitated.

Trust yself, Da said quietly. Like I trust you.

It was all he needed to hear.

Breathing out, like a prayer, he gathered the harbours wild water, none of it safely tamed in a tub. And then, for the first time, no hiding, no whispering, opened himself to the power within.

The borrowed skiff sat on its stern and ran.

Good, Rafe, good, said Da, as the wave hurled them onwards, malleable to his mind. Faster and faster, Westwailing vanishing behind them, the reef and the fishing smack looming ever closer.

Their business was serious, dreadfuland he wanted to laugh. Easy, sprat, said Da after a few minutes. Dont want to run ourselves onto the Dragons teeth. Lets take a breather, eh? I want to get a feel for what them bloody fools are doin.

Regretfully he took his fathers advice, letting the wave hed conjured dwindle almost to death. The skiff settled onto the harbour and drifted to a lilting standstill, perhaps a quarter league distant from the blue and yellow fishing boat. Not so close theyd be swiftly noticed, but close enough to see its crew dotted around the deck, working hard, and the yellow heads of the Doranen mages gathered in the bow.

Not far beyond the smack stretched the ragged reef, with its cloud of sickening magics. On the other side of the reef six enormous water-spouts whipped their erratic way across the waters restless surface. And droning beneath their higher-pitched howl, the whirlpools. Shading his eyes, Rafel thought he could see one, groaning and grinding a hole in the ocean.

Drat em, said Da tightly. That be a bloody daft thing to do, Gar-rick. And heres me thinkin you were a sight smarter than that.

Tasting the air like his father, he let out a sharp sigh. Daft was right. Poxy Arlins father had the mages attacking the reefs magics with a Doranen spell of coercion, designed to force things apart. Which was fine if they were looking to lift buried stones out of the earth or pull down an old brick wall, but they werent. Worse, he could still taste what was left of the first spell theyd tried, and now the leftover echoes of that compulsion spell were muddling with the coercion chant and

You feel that, Rafe? said Da, one hand going to his head. The reefs pushin back.

Aye, he gasped, his skin prickling with the loathsome touch of it. The pain was in him, too, spiking through his temples and deep into his chest. His belly heaved, and he spat saliva and bile mixed yellowish at his feet. Barls mercy, is that Morg?

Da was bent over, hands braced on his knees. What be left of him. Rafe, dont you give in to it. Dont let his muck in you. Could be I might need you in a ticktock or three.

Why? he said, and spat sickness again. What are you going to

But Da wasnt listening. Dropped to his knees, one hand braced on the skiffs side, he was pouring his power towards the reef, trying to shore up what little remained of Barls sweetness. Pouring so much power, Rafel could hardly believe it. What was in his father made his own powers look paltry. All this was in Da? Hed never given a hint of it. In twenty years, not once.

How could he have this and not want it? Hes mad.

But even though Da was amazing, what he gave of himself wasnt enough. Morgs foul malevolence was too vile. Too strong. Not even Das power and the power of the Doranen mages in the fishing boat combined could smother the reefs seething darkness. Letting blind instinct guide him he tried lending his own power, but compared to Da and the Doranen it was only a trickle. It was like pissing on flames let loose in a summer wheat field.

His father was breathing so hard now it sounded almost like groaning. With his belly still heaving and his mouth slicked sour, Rafel crabbed his way to the skiffs bow.

Da! Da!

Blood was trickling from beneath his fathers closed eyelids, and out of his nostrils over his pressed-white lips. His fingers were bloodless on the side of the small boat, and every muscle in his rigid body shuddered.

Hunkering down, he threw one arm around his fathers shaking shoulders. Da, its no good. We cant do it. Stop, before you kill yourself.

No, Rafe Teeth chattering, Da cracked open one pain-filled eye. We can. But you got to help me.

How? he said, hearing his voice break. Tell me what to do and Ill do it.

Das fingers anchored themselves in his shirt, and twisted. Tugged him close. Rafe His voice was a choked whisper. Dyou trust me?

What? Aye, Da! You know I do!

Da nodded, coughing, a harsh, hacking sound. His twisted fingers tugged again. Rafe, Im sorry. You werent sposed to find out. Not like this.

He stared. Find out what? Da, find out wh

And then he gasped as his fathers spread-fingered hand pressed hard to his face. A flash of heat, burning. A convulsion in his blood. A burst of power, incandescent, like a sunrise in his mind. He tried to pull away, tried to protest, but he couldnt move. Couldnt speak. Now his blood was on fire, flames pumping through him with every beat of his heart. His bones caught fireand still he couldnt scream.

Shouting, Da snatched his hand away. Rafel felt himself fall backwards, felt his shoulders smack the skiffs wet boards. Dazed, he stared at the blue sky, at the clouds scudding across it, set to blot out the sun.

And then he realised: Im different.

Closing his eyes to the blue sky and the clouding sun, he turned his sight inwardsand discovered a cauldron of power hed never dreamed might exist. It was terrifying. Glorious. Hot and bright and hungry and his.

First came astonished pleasure. Then came the rage.

Rafel! said Da, on his feet again and hauling him upright, his stubbled face ghastly behind its mask of smeared and trickled blood. Hate me later. Hate me all you like, til I die an ole manbut first we got to help Garrick and them other fools afore its too late!

He felt so betrayed, so wounded, he wanted to vomit, or weep. Wrenching himself free, he snatched at the skiffs mast for balance and unleashed his woken senses on the world. Felt in a searing rush the unmuffled malevolence of Morgs blight, saw its claws sunk deep in the heart of the reef, saw with his newly opened eyes how it strangled the tattered shreds of Barls miracle. Fed off them. Distorted them. Like a parasite consumed them.

Staggering, his mind reeling, he managed to keep his feet as the skiff rocked and juddered beneath them. The harbours waters were waking. Something terrible stirred. A dreadful wave of nausea rose and rolled through him.

Shit! Whatwhat

Be you with me, Rafe? Da demanded, breathing hard and heavy. I need you with me, sprat. Cause any ticktock nowany ticktock

It seemed to him then that the whole world inhaled, and time stood still, and he was crushed to a pulp. He felt the reefs magic, Morgs magic, writhe and shudder in his twisting guts. He felt his blood catch fresh fire, freeze solid then burst burning from his eyes and nose. He heard himself shout. Heard Da shout. Felt the world exhale and magic rip through the water between the reef and the skiff. Their borrowed boat flew into the air, tossing them with it, then smashed again to the harbours wildly agitated surface.

His head smacked salty timber, knees and elbows striking hard too. Tossed beside him, his father grunted in pain. Battered and bruised, he scrambled upright and looked around. Da had the same idea. Clutching the skiffs sides as it rocked and spun, they stared at the blue and yellow fishing boat flailing too far away. Her crew darted from stern to bow and back again, answering their captains faint shouts. Terrified in the cloud-striped sunshine, blond Doranen heads huddled close.

A heartbeat later he cried out, because a whirlpool was forming right before his stinging eyes, in the stretch of whipped-up water between the fishing smack and the reef. In Westwailing Harbour, where theyd always been safe. The surge was small but steadily growing, the harbours waters spinning and spinning and as he watched, dry-mouthed with horror, he saw the blue and yellow fishing boat begin drifting towards it.

Rafel! said Da, and reached for his arm. His fingers, taking hold, felt desperate. We got to stop that bloody thing. We cant have whirlpools in the harbour. Itll be the end of everything, sprat.

Stop it? he said, the heel of his right hand pressed to the side of his head against the spike of pain stabbing through his skull. How?

I dont know, said Da, teeth gritted. But we got to try.

Head pounding, he stared at his father, whod lied to him. Betrayed him. Da, there aint no way we can

Das fingers closed so hard on his wrist it felt like the bone might break. You wanted to know what it were like, facin Morg? You wanted to know how I felt that day? This be how I felt, Rafel. This be what it were like. You piss your pants. You shit yself. This is why I told em to leave well enough alone.

With a shrieking scream a waterspout whipped into life a long stones throw from the bow of their skiff. Another shrieking scream and there were two waterspoutsthen threethen four. The skiff rocked and spun like a paper boat on a millrace as the spraying spume swiftly soaked them to the skin.

Too far away, too close, the whirlpool whirled wider.

Rafel dragged his sopping sleeve across his face. Were going to die. Sink me, well bloody drown or get sucked down that thing or ripped to bitty pieces by a waterspout. He turned to his father, not knowing what hed find. Saw anger. Saw revulsion. Saw pity. Saw fear.

And then saw the face of the Innocent Mage.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Power blasted from Das outstretched fingers in a stream of burning light. Touched the nearest waterspout, which collapsed in a gouting wave. Touched the next, the next, the last. As their skiff stopped its wild lurching, Da fell across the rowers seat.

Da! Rafel shouted, reaching for him.

I be fine, sprat, Da grunted, shoving to his feet. Fresh blood slicked his face, muddling with the salt water. He looked like someone had tried to skin him alive. A good thing Mama werent here to see it. She really would skin him. She might skin him yet.

If I dont do it first.

His newly woken powers seethed.

Rafe, said Da, his voice rough and rasping. You know when Doranen mages do a working, sometimes not all of em say the spells. Sometimes they just let emselves be used. You know that?

He nodded, distracted. The whirlpool was maybe twenty feet across now, roaring louder. Though the smacks crew was fighting hard, they couldnt keep their boat from drifting towards its widening mouth. Theyd never survive the encounter. Theyd be smashed to splinters.

Rafe, said Da. Listen!

He glanced sideways. What?

Sprat, I need to use you. Itll take more power than whats in me to fuddle that bloody whirlpool.

We can do it together, he said. Teach me the

There aint time. Blood-slicked face twisting, Da cupped the back of his neck. And there aint time for me to do this gentle, neither. Rafe, its goin to hurt. Are you with me?

He looked again to the fishing boat. The waterspouts had tossed the skiff a good bit closerto the smack, the reef and the growing whirlpool. As the smacks crew fought their desperate battle, Fernel bloody Pintte dangled over the side, wildly gesturing. Rodyn Garrick, sopping, his long blond hair plastered wet to his skull, stood with poxy Arlin, tall and thin and wet through, his yellow hair short like most young Doranen wore it these days. Along with the other mages they were throwing spells at that howling hole in the ocean. For all the good they were doing they might as well be throwing flowers. Or turds.

Das cupping fingers tightened. Rafe. Are you with me?

Dont ask stupid questions, Da, he said, slicked with cold sweat. Just do it while we still can.

Right, said Da, nodding. Might be best you sit all the way down.

So he bumped his arse to the skiffs rough floorboards, and let his hands fall loose into his lap. Kept on staring at the helpless, drifting smack. At Arlin, who was going to spit blood when he found out who helped save him.

Ha.

Das left hand came to rest gently on his head. Here we go. Dont fight it. Youll feed bad but you wont die.

At first he felt nothing but an oddly warm sensation, as his father pointed towards the viciously expanding whirlpool, whispering under his breath. Then Da traced a sigil on the wet-salt air, which caught fire and burned with a strong, wild scent.

Power surged. Magic stirred. Rafel took a deep breath. Da whispered again, and drew another sigil, and now he felt a kind of collapsing, as though he were a blown-up pigs bladder with a pinprick in it, slowly losing air. Another deep breath. Another fiery sigil. Then he felt a stabbing pain behind his eyesand suddenly he was bleeding magic. And it hurt Barls tits, it hurt

Dimly he was aware of Da raging against the whirlpool. Dimly he could hear someone moaning and realised: Thats me. The trickle of power leaving him widened widened further and suddenly Da was pulling magic from him in a white-hot flood. He choked a scream in his throat.

Da was cursing the whirlpool now, cursing Morg and even Barl. Rafel cursed with him, shuddering with the pain. Then Da dropped to the floor of the skiff, retching for air, and the terrible outpouring of his magic stopped.

It aint workin, Da gasped. All them whirlpools feed on each other, and they feed off that bloody reef too. I aint strong enough to break em.

Sowas that it? Had they failed?

Come on, sprat, said Da, coughing. On your feet. We still got work to do.

He couldnt stand. His bones were hollow, his muscles pulped. He could taste iron-salt blood, thick and wet on his lips. But Da hauled him up and somehow he managed not to fall. Managed to open his bleary, burning eyes.

Oh, shit.

The doomed fishing boat tossed on the edges of the whirlpools growing wake. The swirling defiant water was nigh on forty feet across now, thundering its hunger, growling to be fed.

Work? he croaked, cold with terror, as beneath their unsteady feet the skiff began to drift. What work? Da, what can we do?

We can save them bloody idiots on that fishing boat, I reckon, said Da. Afore they manage to get emselves drowned.

At her wits end trying to comfort Deenie, Dathne jumped near out of her skin when someone banged a fist on the inns chamber door.

Meistress Dathne! Best you come quick!

That was Silas, whod taken over the Dancing Dolphin from his father, Hiram, dead these three years past. She glared at the closed door then bent again over her daughter, curled whimpering on the bed and shaking so hard the bed-frames timber creaked.

Meistress Dathne! Silas called again. Be you in there?

She pressed a kiss to Deenies brow then hurried to the door. Cracked it open a fingers-width and tried to smooth away her frown. Silas? Whats amiss? Only Deenies not feeling spry and

Silas was large and red of face, just like his father. Trouble down the harbour, Meistress Dathne, he said, his pouched eyes wide. Seems your Ashers neck-deep in it. And Rafel. The mayor sent someone to fetch you.

Dathne swallowed a curse. Of course her men folk were neck deep in trouble. Where else would they be?

Who jumped first, I wonder? Or did they jump together, hand in hand?

She glanced at Deenie, who shivered and shook on the soft feather bed. I cant leave, Silas. My daughters

Go, Mama, said Deenie, her voice reed thin and trembling. They might need you. I cant help them. Im useless.

She waved her hand in a just a moment gesture at Silas, shoved the door shut and returned to the bed. Dont talk like that, she scolded, smoothing Deenies sweat-damp hair. Youre not useless. If youre anything, youre too sensitive. Deenie, I

Pansy eyes huge in her pale face, Deenie summoned an unsteady smile. Im not dying, Mama. Im justjust a mouse. Go.

A wave of angry misery surged through her. All shed ever wanted was for prophecy to be over. Shed wanted peace and happiness for her family. Her children. Why couldnt they have happiness? Why wouldnt strife leave them alone?

Is this my fault? Has my past destroyed their hopes for the future?

Mama

Fighting weak tears, she looked down. What, mouse?

Please. Go.

Ill not be long, she promised, chafing her daughters cold hand. If you need me call me for Silas and hell find where I am.

The someone Westwailings mayor had sent to fetch her was a plump, anxious young Olken man who dithered in the Dolphins public lounge and nearly ran towards her as she came down the crooked stairs.

Meistress Dathne! Praise Barl!

Curse Barl more like it. Who are you? she snapped, heading for the front door.

The mayors young someone leapt after her. Trotter. Phlim Trotter.

And whats happened, Meister Trotter?

Looks like magic gone mad, Mayor Threeve says, he said nervously, his voice low, as they left the inn and struck out towards the harbour. And Asher

She flicked a glance at him, walking as fast as she could along Bait-man Alley without actually running. I know. Silas said.

But thats good, Phlim Trotter added, breathless. If theres a man who can save us its the Innocent Mage.

His simple faith should have warmed her. Instead she was winter-cold inside. Asher Asher

Indifferent to Phlim Trotters panting discomfort, Dathne swung hard left into the skinniest of laneways separating one alehouse from its neighbour, swished her way between a wall and a row of rubbish bins and shot out the other end of it into Seaswell High Street. The thoroughfare was buzzing, Westwailings homegrown and its visitors milling and agitating, staring down the townships gentle slope towards the harbour. Ignoring Trotters ineffectual bleating, she leapt to the top step of a handily placed bakers shop, shaded her eyes and fixed her anxious gaze on the distant water.

Oh, Jervale preserve us all.

Waterspouts were whipping across the wide harbour where the mage-workers distance-shrunk fishing boat plunged like a mad horse, close enough to the reefs jagged teeth for the folk gathered in the street to be crying aloud their fear and consternation. Smaller still, a mere black dot, another boat. A skiff. It plunged just as madly through the harbours wild, thrashing water.

Dathne felt her heart seize.

Im going to kill them.

Provided, of course, that the waterspouts or something worse didnt kill her husband and son first. But perhaps theyd be all right if Asher undid the binding on Rafels power.

Oh, Rafel. Will you forgive us?

Pushing that fear aside, she glanced down at Phlim Trotter, fraught on the pavement at the foot of the bakery steps. Young man, can you run?

Run? he echoed, his flushed face dripping sweat from mere walking. Ah

Never mind, she said, and picked up her skirts. And dont worry, Meister Trotter. Ill tell the mayor you did your best.

Abandoning him, she ran.

When the third screaming Olken fisherman was flung overboard to drown in the whirlpool-churned harbour, Arlin gave up any hope of surviving.

Staggering on the smacks pitching deck, furious with fear, his father was bellowing at the boats captain. Youre the sailor, Hayle! Sail us away from here! Get us back to the pier!

I be tryin! Hayle shouted back, blood from a split eyebrow slicking his face ghastly red. Hed lashed a length of rope to the boats mast and wrapped its end around his wrist, an anchor to help him stay upright as the boat lurched and tossed and plunged. Why dont you help? Why aint there a Doranen spell to save all our hides?

There was, of course. There were several incants designed to move a boat at will across water. Ain and the other two mages were desperately reciting them nowbut they werent working. Morgs leftover magic of ruination was too strong for them. The sigils sputtered to sparks and memory almost as soon as they flared into life.

See to your own tasks, Hayle! Father snarled. Leave the matter of magic to your betters!

Sir, said the captain, and returned to his men.

Arlin touched his fathers arm. You have to let me do something. Why did you bring me if you wont

Not yet, said Father. I wont have you revealed yet.

But sir

His father slapped him. Do as youre told! Have I nurtured you for twenty years to have you throw my efforts away now?

Face stinging, Arlin shook his head. No, sir.

Then stand here out of the way, his father snapped. The rest of us are equal to this task.

He watched his father rejoin Ain and the others. I hope so, for all our sakes. Then he grabbed hold of the boats railing and stared with horrified fascination at the roaring whirlpool that had them trapped.

The dreadful thing was easily sixty feet across, large enough to swallow the fishing boat whole. And if by some miracle of magework they werent swallowed whole then the chances were good that their vessel would be smashed to flotsam against the reef, because even as the whirlpool sucked them inexorably towards it, a half-dozen randomly spawned waterspouts kept granting a cruel reprieve. Towering above them, moaning and howling as though they were alive, the wickedly capricious spouts thrust them left then right then left. Whipped them in sickening circles and tossed them clear of the water completely only to buffet them back into its wet, avid embrace.

Hed already vomited again, twice.

And then he nearly lost his balance as the smack lurched and heeled over. His feet slid out from under him, and only his desperate hold on the railing kept him from falling. He sent up a swift prayer, though hed been taught their religion was a lie.

If youre taking me, Barl, for pitys sake take me fast.

The roar of the whirlpool and the keening of the waterspouts were so loud his ears felt buffeted almost to deafness. He was battered and bruised, knuckles skinned red raw, splinters in his palms, his cheeks, and forehead after being skidded from one side of the smack to the other, face down.

Burning through the pain he felt a sudden spike of anger.

I had plans. I had dreams. I dont want to die.

Something touched his knee. Turning, looking down, he saw whey-faced Fernel Pintte huddled amidst a tangle of fishing nets. The Olkens head was split open. Blood dripped off his nose. You said this wouldnt happen, he moaned. You Doranen, you swore on Barls legacy this

The Olken captains sudden shouting distracted him. Swinging round, Arlin looked to where the man pointed. It was a small boat, rolling towards them in line with the reef, seemingly unaffected by whirlpool or waterspout. But how was that possible?

Asher! Hayle cried. It be Asher the Innocent Mage, come to save us! Then his face changed. The bloody fool, hes like to kill hisself. I fear there aint no-one can save us now, not even him.

What? Asher? Butbutwas Rafel with him? Ignoring Pinttes querulous bleatinglet the fool bleed to death or go overboard; who would care?he let go of the railing and risked what was left of his life staggering to the other side of the boat. Flung himself onto its railing, held on tight and stared at the onrushing plain canvas sail. Two men stood in the battered shallow hull beneath it, both dark haired. One his fathers age, one his own. He felt his belly clutch hard.

I think Id rather die than be rescued by Rafel.

His father left his friends to their desperate spellcasting and joined him.

Look at him, said Father, through tightly gritted teeth. Asher. Flouting his unnatural talents.

Arlin shook his head, bemused. How is he doing that? How is he able to control that skiff and the water so easily when you A sideways glance at his father stopped him. When Ain and the others cant

Wipe the admiration and envy off your face, boy! his father spat. No Olken should be able to wield Doranen magic. The mans an abomination.

Of course he was. But if there was any chance Asher could save them

Because I cant. Im not even permitted to try.

Ashers skiff was close enough now for him to make out the Olkens faces. What could be seen of them beneath slick fresh blood was pale with strain. Father and son stood side by side in the bow, Ashers right hand anchored to Rafels left shoulder, Rafels left hand holding tight to his fathers right. Their eyes were slitted with fierce concentration, and they rode the racing boat as easily as if they stood upon Westwailings stolid stone pier.

Arlin felt the power coursing between them. Felt their common bond and their unity of purpose. Rafel was taller. His father was thinner. But they were two men with one heart and one mind.

Barls tits, how he hated them.

The fishermen whod not yet drowned were laughing and shouting, feet drumming the deck. Captain Hayle leaned dangerously over the side of his boat. Cupped his hands to his mouth and sucked deep lungfuls of salty air.

Dont come no closer, Asher, or youll be caught along of us!

Neither Asher nor Rafel replied. They were too busy fighting the wild water and the coils of filthy magic still pouring off the lethal, sharp-toothed reef. Magic that had been mostly sleeping, until he and Father and the others had woken it to violent life.

So this is our fault. Asher was right, curse him. We never shouldve attempted to break magics hold on the reef.

Asher! Hayle shouted. Go back while ycan! Aint no point you bein drownded along with us!

Could Asher and Rafel even hear the man? Arlin doubted it, with waves smashing on the reef and spray flying and that cursed whirlpool roaring and fresh waterspouts keening to life even as older ones died.

Asher raised his left arm, fingers pointing at the nearest waterspout, and a stream of raw power poured out of his body. The waterspout touched by Ashers power collapsed in gouts of foam and spray.

Hayle led his fishermen in a ragged cheer. Arlin could easily have cheered, himself. He could feel the echo of Ashers power in his own flesh and bones, overwhelming. Exhilarating. The Olken might be an abomination but hed bought them a reprieve, however short-lived. Beside him, Father leaned precariously over the railing, narrowed gaze hungry, thin lips peeled back in a furious grimace.

The skiff continued its racing progress as Asher collapsed every waterspout he could reach. How powerful was he, then, if he could foil the reefs poisoned magics and guide his boat at the same time?

Arlin gasped, understanding. But hes not.

Asher battled the waterspouts but it was Rafel who was controlling the skiff. Wrapping it in compulsion and moulding the waters beneath its hull. And that meant Rafel waswas

Like Asher.

Sick with dismay, Arlin stared at Ashers arrogant son. Of course. And now he understood his immediate, persistent antipathy towards Rafel. All their lives, from boyhood, hed felt the potential in the Innocent Mages firstborn child. When his flesh crept, when his blood stirred, this was why.

Because Rafel is wrong. Like his father, hes wrong. Like his father he can kill us with magic.

The liar! The filthy liar! His father was trembling, bone-white with fury. He said his son was plain Olken, but the perversion breeds true. Ill see him thrown off the Mage Council for this. Ill see him censured and sent packing as far from Dorana as can be contrived!

Arlins mouth was cottony dry. He had to cough and spit before he could speak. What about the daughter?

How should I know? said his father, venomous with contempt. But Ill find out. Ill And then he was choking with disbelief. Barls mercy, what is he doing? He canthe cantsurely not even Asher can think

But clearly Asher could. Asher did. Like his father, Arlin could feel it: the Olkens desperate push against the rapidly growing whirlpool.

Rodyn! cried Ain, hurrying to join them. Though she was spray-soaked and exhausted, still she was glorious. Please, Ain, smile at me. Sarle Baden and Ennet Vail hurried at her heels. You feel it? she said, breathless. Is it even possible, do you think?

Before his father could answer, he stepped forward. It might be, Ain. Asher is

Hold your tongue, said his father, fingers biting into his arm. Youre embarrassing me.

So many times hed promised himself he would stand against his fathers unkindness. Hed not kept his word once. Hed not keep it today, either. At least not here, and not now.

But when this crisis is behind us when were safe again on dry land

Rodyn? said Sarle Baden. His eyes were red-rimmed, the rest of his face bloodless from the effort of fighting the reef. Is he really

Yes, Father snapped. But not even the vaunted Asher can hope to destroy that whirlpool. Its being fed dark power from the reef. Not even with the help of his gross son can he succeed.

Yeshis son, said Ennet Vail, looking as wretched as Sarle Baden. Rodyn, we cant permit

Never mind that now, Ennet! We must help the Olken collapse the whirlpool.

You want us to help him? Baden demanded. That upstart Olken bastard?

Father turned on him, snarling. I want to live, Sarle. Dont you? So let us render him our assistance, shall we? Let us save him so he might save us, so that we, at our leisure, might see him thrown down at last. Arlin! Have you the wit to join us?

He flinched, and hated himself for flinching. Yes, sir. I stand ready.

I always stand ready. I am always your obedient son, no matter what you do or say.

His fathers smile was so fierce that even Ain and the others had to look away from it. Then let us save ourselves, shall we? While we still can.

* * *

Thrumming with power, holding the skiff dangerously close to the reef and the whirlpool, Rafel risked a look sideways. I dont think you should do this, Da. I dont think

What? Da unslitted his eyes long enough to glance at him. That I be up to it? Bite your tongue. He tried to smile, but only managed a dreadful grimace. I aint even got one toe in mgrave.

There was no time to argue on it. All he could do was keep the boat off the reef and out of the whirlpool. Lend Da more strength, if more strength was what he needed. Breathing hard, he fought the water beneath them, struggled to hold the skiff in one place, as Da poured every bit of power and magic he possessed at the relentlessly expanding whirlpool.

Except it wont be enough. It cant be enough. Hes only one man. But

He heard Da gasp, even as he felt the slap of fresh power himself. Startled, struggling to keep hold of the water beneath them, he stared across the whirlpool at the blue and yellow fishing boat so perilously close to being sucked to its death.

Sink me bloody sideways, Da muttered. Do you feel that, Rafe? Or did I tumble into dreamin unawares?

No, Da. You aint dreaming.

The Doranen mages were trying to link with them in a working. Rodyn Garrick and his poxy son and the other three. It wouldnt work for any other Olken but because it was Da

And me. They know about me now. Thats going to cause some ructions when this is overif I aint dead. Probly even if I am.

Let em in, Rafe, said Da. Fresh blood was trickling from his nose. Cant hurt now. Might even help. They aint tryin to kill us. They be tryin not to die.

Tightening his grip on Das shoulder, feeling Das fingers take a brutal hold on him, he opened himself to the Doranen mages power. Let Rodyn in. And Arlin. Let in the other three. Pushed their strength from himself into Da, who was a crazy man, trying to tame a whirlpool.

It was odd, how he could be so hurt and angry and still feel this proud.

Da was breathing harshly, long slow drags of air that sounded like his lungs were tearing. Blood leaked from his eyes.

Let me help, Da, he said urgently. You cant do this alone!

I aint alone, sprat. Got them fancy Doranen mages holdin my hand, said Da, trying to smile. Trying to comfort him. Just you keep the boat still. Keep it off the reef and away from that whirlpool. The bloody things a bastard. Dont reckon I can

Rafel shouted, feeling Dragonteeth Reefs poisoned magic wrench and twist and writhe, feeling it fight his fathers efforts to destroy the roaring whirlpool. Morg was dead and still the sorcerer was fighting, determined to destroy what he could not steal or possess. Horrified, he felt Da sink to his knees. Felt pain blossom in him as it blossomed in himself.

The skiffs canvas sail cracked once, and the stern began to slip and slide

Hold on, Rafe! Da shouted, furious. Dont you pay no notice to me! Hold this bloody boat steady!

But Da

Do it, sprat, or youll kill us all, yhear? You want to murder me, Rafel? Dyou hate me that much?

Close to weeping like a girl, like his sister, he closed his mind to pain, to fear, to the imagined look on his mothers face when she learned that Da was dead of fighting the magic in Dragonteeth Reef. Instead he sank all thought and feeling into keeping the skiff steady a fleas jump from the whirlpool. But it was so hard. Morgs magic was thick like tar, trying to trap him and suffocate him. Trying to win, even though he was long dead.

Help me, Barl. Aint you in there too? It aint only him in there. This is your fight as much as ours, so bloody fight!

Two more waterspouts screamed into life, so close he could feel their spray stinging his face.

Rafel Da groaned. Get rid of em.

Get rid of em? How? Thered been no time to teach him the spell. Except he hadnt known how to pick that lock, had he? And if he could pick a lock, at age ten

Desperate, dizzy, he reached deep inside himself, summoned what was left of his newly woken magicand threw it haphazard at the whipping waterspouts. Searing power poured out of him. Half-blinded, retching, he could see with his inner eye the dark tracings within the writhing towers of water. See the violent confrontation between his magic and Morgs.

The waterspouts collapsed.

Shocked, he nearly lost his balance. And then he felt something shift. Something give. Turning, he saw the whirlpool was slowing.

Da! he shouted. Youre doing it! Sink me, Da, its working!

Aye, Da said faintly. His legs gave way, abruptly, and he thudded to the rowers bench. Ayejust a bit morea bit more

The Doranen mages on the fishing smack were starting to fade too. Theyd poured everything they had into the working, to help Da.

But not cause they care if he lives or dies. Only to save themselves. Best not to forget that. Especially since theyve gone and found out the truth.

The whirlpools dull roaring had changed pitch. It was lighter now. Softer. Splashier. Holding his breath, Rafel watched the churning water slow and slow willed the sinkhole to collapseto diebut that was too much to ask, even of the Innocent Mage.

But I aint complaining. Youre a bloody miracle, Da.

Rafe Das voice was the merest thready whisper. Rafe hurry. We aint got long. Get us over to that smack

He was nearly emptied of strength himself, drained right down to his dregs. Feeling his own blood trickle hot and wet from his nose, he gathered the restless water beneath the skiff and rolled them forward again, between the hungry reef and the slowing whirlpool, heading for the blue and yellow fishing boat and the folk theyd risked themselves to rescue.

Closer closer his head pounded with the effort. He didnt dare look at his father, though he could hear Das laboured breathing. Barl, help him. You better help him. And then they were close enough and he eased the skiff to a stop.

The fishing boats captain was still alive, but it was Rodyn Garrick who did the talking.

Youd best climb up here, Asher, he called down, chalky-pale from the mageworkingbut strong enough still to throw his weight around, the arrogant bastard. Then you and that boy of yours can do whatever it is you do His face twisted with disgust. And theres Doranen gratitude for you. Typical. so we might return safely to the pier.

Da gripped his knees, slumping, his face screwed up in pain. Rafel took one look at him and realised he didnt have the strength to speak. He barely had the strength to keep the whirlpool at bay.

Hold on, Da. Dont you let go now or were all bloody sunk.

Sorry, he called back, staring up at the Doranen. Rodyn Garrick, with poxy Arlin beside him, his face a white mask. The other three, hovering behind. That aint going to happen. Youll have to float back to shore with me and Da.

Garrick laughed, disbelieving. Nodded contemptuous at the skiff. In that thing? All of us?

The small boat shuddered beneath his feet, fighting his uncertain control. Magic and chit-chat at the same time not as easy as it looked. He could feel the sweat pouring down his face and spine. Exhausted, hurting, he let temper have its way.

Well if it aint good enough for you, bloody stay where you are! Think I give a shit? My das nigh on killed himself to save you but if you dont want to be saved, fine. Stay there and bloody drownyou and your boy.

Youre Ashers son? said the captain, voice raised strong over the mayhem, while Garrick spluttered, lost for words.

Aye, he shouted. Rafel.

Hayle, the captain answered. And well be down to you directly. His tired gaze flicked sideways. Leastways, those of us who aint got a yen for bein drowndedll be down.

He turned away from the railing, calling for his crew. Light-headed with relief, Rafel dropped to one knee beside his father. Hold on, Da. Were nearly done.

Da nodded weakly. Hurry, sprat, he breathed. Scant paces distant, the swirling whirlpool growled. Itll slip me any ticktock

No. No. He laid an arm across his fathers shoulders. Were hurrying, Da. Just you bloody hold on.

Looking up, his gaze collided with Arlin Garricks narrow-eyed glare. Such fury. Such hatred. Guess he aint best pleased to find out what I really am. Despite the killing effort of steadying the skiff, he grinned.

Something you wanted to say, Arlin?

Arlin! snapped Rodyn Garrick, over his shoulder.

Cringing like a kicked dog, Arlin fell silent.

Then Captain Hayle returned with his crewwhat was left of them, any roadand they started tying oiled ropes to the railing. Rafel counted heads. Sixseveneight It was going to be a bloody tight fit.

Is that everyone?

Hayle nodded, knotting off his rope. Aye.

No, someone was missing. Wheres Fernel Pintte?

Hayle nodded behind him. Mayor Pinttes senseless. Hit his head. Well lower him to you first.

Pintte senseless? That was a blessing. Fine, Captain, but crack on, eh? We aint got much time before

Aye, said Hayle, glancing at the whirlpool. Can you get that skiff of yours a mite closer?

Barl save me. Sharply aware of silenced Arlin staring down at him, feeling him use his magic, feeling his pain and exhaustion, he coaxed the water beneath the skiff to lift themlift themuntil the skiffs blunt bow kissed the fishing smacks hull.

Hayle and his men flung Fernel Pintte over the smacks side, tied up in ropes like a goose trussed for the oven. As soon as Doranas mayor thudded onto the skiffs boards, not stirring at his indignity, Rafel shoved him out of the way, then looked again to the captain.

You next, Hayle.

Me last, said Hayle. Got to see these fine folk settled first. Thanks to Da he knew a bit about the stubbornness of fishermen. All right.

Turning to Arlin, Hayle thrust a tied-off rope into his hands. Go on, young lord. Hold tight, scoot quick, and if you happen to strip a bit of skin off ypalms, rememberit could be a bloody sight worse.

Arlin hesitated.

Come on, Arlin! Rafel shouted up at him. We aint got all day. Behind him, Da groaned. Rafel

Arlin! Stop pissing about! he shouted, then turned to his father. Da!

His fathers face was ashen beneath its smeared coating of blood. I be losin it, Rafe. Get em down herewe got to go

The whirlpool! cried Sarle Baden. Hurry!

Foaming splashing a whisper of power. The harbour sinkhole began to spin more swiftly.

Da was close to sobbing with the strain of fighting the whirlpool. Rafe.

I know, Da, he said, desperate. Just a bit more. Not long now. Just a bit.

And then he found himself fighting his own frantic battle as the water beneath the skiff surged, responding to the waking whirlpool, testing his control. As he struggled to keep the skiff steady, to keep it from sucking towards the whirlpool, as another waterspout roared into life, the fishing smack lurched violentlyand the five Doranen mages desperately slithered over its canting side.

A second waterspout spewed into the air, close enough to soak them with whipping sprayand he lost control of the water, and the skiff, and was knocked off his feet completely and fell on top of Doranas still-senseless mayor.

The clambering Doranen tumbled into the harbour like rotten apples from a lightning-struck tree.

Rafel scrambled off Fernel Pintte, not caring if he broke bones, and threw himself precariously across the skiffs side. Reached for the nearest bobbing blond head, grabbed it by the hair, and hauled.

It was Arlin.

He dragged the poxy little shit coughing and spluttering into the skiff. Arlin shouted with pain then heaved up gouts of salty water. My fathermy fatherAin

Rafe shoved him aside. Stay down and shut your trap!

Two more waterspouts howled up from the harbour. There was no time to collapse them even if hed been strong enoughand he wasnt. Not any more. And Da was sprawled across the rowers seat, barely moving. Barely breathing. But he wasnt dead, not yet, so he had to stay where he was untended. Rafel reached down to the water for the next closest Doranen mage, locked his fingers around the mans wrist and pulled. Pulled again. Felt his shoulder trying to pull free of its socket, the pain as hot and bright as magic, and kept on pulling. Hauled the coughing, kicking Doranen over the skiffs side.

It werent Rodyn Garrick.

The other three Doranen mages were too far away to reach. Long yellow hair plastered across their faces, they splashed feebly towards the wildly tossing skiff. Arlin was hanging over its side, shrieking, waving his arms around and getting in the way.

Father! Father!

Bloody stay down, I said! Rafel bellowed at him, and knocked Arlin on his skinny arse.

Hurling abuse, Arlin flailed to his feet. Ignoring him, hating him, Rafel reached his hand out again. But as his fingers closed on the closest mages sodden shirt, the whirlpool ripped free of Das magic with a rumble like thunder; an enormous waterspout, erupting, flipped the fishing smack onto the reef. Flung the skiff sideways. The stricken Doranens shirt was torn from his desperate grasp.

No time to think. No time to feel. No time to stare in horror at the blue and yellow fishing smack, broken-backed and splintered, its captain and its crew smashed and dying before his eyes. No time to try and save the last three mages in the harbour.

They were beyond saving, any road. The whirlpool had taken them. They swirled round and round, screamingand swirled out of sight.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Father! howled Arlin. Then he leapt. Rafel, you murdering bastard!

Rafel punched Arlin hard in the gut, twice. Dropped him retching to the bottom of the skiff, clenched his fists double-handed and struck him across the face. He felt the flesh over his raw knuckles split, saw Arlins cheek split over the bone. But he couldnt care about that. It was knock the fool as senseless as Pintte or let them all die.

With the last of his strength he reached within himself, to that place where so much power had hidden. The power Da had kept from him. Dont think on that. It doesnt matter. Not now. The cauldron was scraped almost bare. A few sparkings remained, nowt more.

A few sparkings would have to do.

Shuddering, he summoned them. Shuddering, he imposed his will on the water. The water resistedresistedand he strained to break it, strained to breaking, felt the hot blood pour from his eyes and his nose. Spat blood and saliva on the boards at his feet.

Meanly, grudgingly, the water finally obeyed. The skiff lurched as the wave hed created retreated them from death. Half-blinded, exhausted, he clung to the mast. Turned to see if his father could help but Da was still sprawled across the rowers seat, with only the uneven rise and fall of his chest to show he wasnt dead. Hurting so much, his head pounding, his body pounded, Rafel throttled his fear.

Hell be fine. Hell be fine.

Woken and weeping, Arlin huddled face-down at his feet. The other rescued Doranen reached for him. Who was it? Sarle Baden? With a foul curse Arlin knocked the older mans hand away. The mage recoiled then looked roundyes, it was Badenand dragged the straggling wet hair from his face. Sat up, groaning, and stared across the turbulent harbour towards the reef.

Barl save us, he croaked, his voice scratchy with salt. Look.

The unrestrained whirlpool roared savagely wider, white foam spewing into the air. Beyond the reef dozens of waterspouts whipped and howled. And the fishing smack, ruined, fell at last to pieces and was sucked spar by sail by rigging by net, down into the harbours depths.

Still clinging to the skiffs mast, Rafel dragged his gaze from the dreadful sight and looked back to Westwailings pier. So far away, too bloody far and he was so sinkin tired he had nothing left to give

In the space of three heartbeats five more waterspouts burst into life around them. Then another. And another. The sluggishly moving skiff slewed hard port, then harder starboard. Rafel dropped to his knees in the struggle to control it.

Barl save us, Baden said again, and this time he sounded helpless. Grieve not for your father, Arlin. Were about to join him.

Trussed-up and discarded Fernel Pintte stirred, muttering. Rafel looked at him, his vision blurred with pain and effort. Looked at grief-struck Arlin. At Sarle Baden. At Da. Four lives counting on him but only one that counted. A dreadful thought. Shameful. Wicked. And true.

Hold on, Da. Hold on.

Nauseous with terror, with feeling so much foul magic, Dathne watched the skiff desperately jink and swerve across the turbulent harbour, trying to reach Westwailings pier. Beside her, halfway down the stone fingers length, the townships mayor was almost in tears.

Please, Meistress Dathne, we cant stay here any longer! It be too dangerous. Weve got to retreat! Threeves imploring fingers hovered a hairsbreadth from taking hold of her arm. Cant you see we could be washed away any moment?

The craven fool was exaggerating but not by much. Whipped-up water slapped viciously on both sides of them, dangerously tossing the tethered fishing fleet. Shed lost count of how many waterspouts now ripped across the harbour and by her uncertain reckoning three more whirlpools had formed. But what did that matter? So long as Asher and Rafel were still out therenot drowned

I dont care, Threeve, she said, so afraid she sounded calm. Run if you want to. Im not shifting an inch.

But I cant leave you out here! said Threeve, anguished. We cant leave you. Please, Dathne, please

Look! shouted one of Westwailings fishermen, standing with the others a respectful distance behind them. Here she comes!

Heedless of the danger, of Threeves shouted protests and the scouring salt spray, Dathne bolted towards the end of the pier. The skiff was coming in fast but erratic, threatened at every turn by huge waves and whirling waterspouts. It was close enough now for her to see Rafel and one Doranen standing with the mast between them. But where was Asher? Where was he? She felt rage and grief burst from her in a single, moaning cry.

Then dimly she heard a dull thudding in her wake as Westwailings fishermen chased her down the pier. They were risking their lives and she didnt care. It was Asher they were running to. Asher, and her son.

Skidding to a halt, arms windmilling to keep her balance, she watched the skiff wallow, losing speed, losing purpose. No, no. Not this close. She couldnt lose them this close. Not so close she could see her sons drained face, streaked with water and blood, empty of hope.

A pair of hands seized her, thrust her roughly aside. One of the fishermen. She didnt know his name. You stay put, he ordered. He sounded like Asher. This be our harbour.

Numb, Dathne watched the six men pound down a treacherous stretch of stone steps leading down to the water. To another skiff tethered to an iron ring sunk into the pier. One untied the skiff, one stood by the tiller, and the other four leapt for the oars. Two men on each, they dug the wooden blades into the surging water, heading for Rafels skiff before it was too late. She pressed her fingers to her lips, trembling. Skittered her terrified gaze around the fretful harbour, expecting at any moment a fresh waterspout to rise up and smash both boats.

Rafels skiff swung about, taking on water. Straining, she could see another blond head in the small boat, seated and slumping. Was there no-one else? Only Rafel and two Doranen? The skiff slewed again and then she saw him. Saw Asher, folded over the skiffs rowing seat.

Barl save me. He looks dead.

Choking back tears, she watched the fishermen reach her husband and son. Rafel and the Doranen mage with him caught the ropes the men threw and tied the two wallowing skiffs together. As the harbour heaved and the dancing waterspouts danced closer, the rescuers fell to their oars again. Rafel eased his father off the rowing seat, gestured at the Doranen who stood with him, and they unshipped their skiffs oars. Started rowing with desperate strength.

When Threeve touched her shoulder, Dathne nearly fell off the pier with fright.

Its nearly over, the mayor said. Like her, he was soaked to the skin, bedraggled and shivering. You should stand back, Dathne. Dont be in the way.

He was right, sink him. As the tethered skiffs reached the pier she retreated, though every screaming instinct told her to run down those wet stone steps and throw herself on Asher and Rafel.

One by one, the fishermen brought up the men from the rescued skiff. Rafel first, staggering. The two Doranen came nextSarle Baden and Arlin Garrick, both looking half-drowned. Arlins face was bruised raw and bleeding. Then came Fernel Pintte, wits wandering, festooned with rope, his hair and face clotted with blood from a head wound. She hadnt seen him in the skiff. And last of all Asher, not sensible at all. Asher they carried, and laid down on the pier.

Mama, said Rafel. Shed never seen him so tired. So distressed. Mama, I

But before she could reach him, before she could reach Asher, Arlin Garrick turned on Mayor Threeve. Arrest this Rafel of Dorana! Now! He murdered my father and Ain Freidin and another Doranen besides!

Stunned, Threeve looked to Sarle Baden. My lord, is that true?

No, it aint bloody true! said Rafel, his voice cracking. They drowned. We tried to save em but they drowned. If theres anyone to blame its Garrick and Pintte, for ignoring my da and

Arlin hit him. Olken filth! Shut your mouth!

As Rafel shoved Arlin, sending him staggering, nearly sending him into the harbour, Dathne leapt for Asher, sprawled senseless on the wet pier. Threeve shouted an angry protest, Pintte croaked an objection, and Sarle Baden threw up his hands and walked away. Five of the fishermen exchanged looks then pushed to separate Arlin from Rafel.

But the sixth fisherman flung out a pointing hand. Barl save us all! Run!

Two monstrous waterspouts were heading directly for the pier, slashing through the harbour faster than galloping horses.

Dathne looked to the nearest man. Help me!

Ungainly, ungently, they hauled Asher between them by armpit and ankle and began their staggering flight towards the township-end of the pier. Threeve and the other fishermen helped Pintte, Arlin Garrick and Sarle Baden. Rafel refused assistance, grabbing his fathers weskit to help.

Mama he said, almost tripping. It wasnt murder, I swear. I never

I know you never, she panted. Save your breath, Rafe. Tell me later.

Westwailings harbour shore was crowded shoulder to shoulder with folk eager to see what was happening at the reef. Theyd turned the day into a kind of picnic. But now, with disaster struck, with waterspouts and whirlpools whipping up what should have been safe waters, the musicians had fallen silent, the children had been sent home, and voices were raised in anxious dismay.

Then as one they cried outa dreadful shout of fear. Heart hammering, her fingers tight and aching around Ashers ankles, Dathne risked a swift look behind her and saw the twin waterspouts plough through Westwailings fishing fleet. Saw them smash the wooden boats to splinters, toss them in the air like kindling, like toys. Utter ruination in a matter of moments. Wood and canvas rained down on the wave-swamped stone pier.

Barls mercy! she heard Threeve sob. Barl forgive us.

But it was far too late for that.

By a miracle they reached dry land safely, winded and shocked. The crowd backed away, helped by officials with ready truncheons. Ignoring them, caring nowt for what anyone else said or did, Dathne guided Asher to the grass and knelt beside him. Took his hand in hers and stroked his cold, bloodied face. Rafel knelt opposite, holding his fathers other hand. Somewhere close by, Arlin Garrick was shouting incoherent threats. Sarle Baden was trying to calm him, and Mayor Threeve was calming Fernel Pintte. Dathne ignored all of them. Looked at her son. There was something different about him. Something knife-edged and newly forged, though he was exhausted.

He lifted his gaze. Pain in his eyes, and anger, burning shallow beneath the fear. And she knew.

Oh, Rafel. My sweet boy.

Im sorry, she whispered. We thought it for the best. We thought

He looked down. Not now, Mama.

On the grass between them, Asher moaned softly, then opened his eyes. Dath

Hush, she said, tears falling. You hush.

Rafel?

Rafel bent low, his anger thrust suddenly deep. Im here, Da.

Dath, I tried to stop em, Asher whispered. I tried to save em. But they died.

She stroked his cheek. Hush, my love. Its not your fault.

Dath He coughed, weakly. Dath, I reckon were in trouble.

Oh, she wanted to deny it. She wanted to tell him he was wrong.

I know, she said, and pressed her fingers to his lips. But dont think about it. Right now you need to rest. She looked up at Rafel, on his knees, with his deep anger and his surface distress. Therell be time to think about all of it when we get home.

Home, said Asher. Aye. I want to go home.

Rafel She heard her voice break. Rafe But her son wouldnt look at her.

Oh, Asher, Asher. What have we done?

Asher and his family left for Dorana this morning. Did you know?

Seated by the window of his guest house privy parlour, Arlin nodded. Smoothed his blue silk brocade sleeve, as though its wrinkling mattered.

I heard.

Yes. Sarle Baden cleared his throat. His coat was plum purple. No more a mourning colour than blue, but thentheyd not anticipated a need for black. Threeve had no grounds to detain them.

Threeve claims he had no grounds to detain them. He shrugged. What else would you expect? Hes Olken.

You can raise the matter in General Council, said Baden, after a moment. Perhaps even the Mage Council. You can call for a hearing in Justice Hall.

It was raining. Again. Beyond the open curtains Westwailings cobbled streets were deserted, and waterspouts danced across its dull grey empty harbour.

No. Im not returning to the City, Lord Baden.

Not retur Stranded in the middle of the parlours expensive carpet, Baden stared. May I ask

Because there are things I must do at home. Things that cannot wait. You may not.

Arlin

He turned his head, just enough. The bruised cut over his cheekbone throbbed. Lord Garrick.

Silence. Sarle Baden, Fathers oldest and dearest friend, breathed in and out quietly. Stood still. Only his abraded palms gave a hint of the previous days adventure. Briefly, the man closed his bloodshot eyes. Hed been weeping. Or perhaps it was the salt from Westwailings ruined harbour.

Lord Garrick, Baden said at last, if you like, I can speak on your behalf in General Council. I can lodge a petition in

No.

Baden stepped forward. You cant mean to leave this matter unpursued. Your father is dead.

Fatherand Ain, whod never smiled at him. Ennet Vail too, who mattered not at all. Yes, thank you, I had noticed! he said, and stood. Turned his back on the cobbled streets and the harbour. On the folly that had left him without a body to bury. Get out, Lord Baden. Go back to Dorana with Meister Pintte. Say what you like to those fools in the City. Therell be no justice for my father there. He was murdered by a heros son.

Baden swallowed, his eyes sheened with grief. With what he imagined was grief. The man had no comprehension of grief. Arlin

Lord Garrick!

Arlin, youve no-one but servants on the family estate. You need more than servants around you at this difficult time. You need

To be left alone. He nodded at the closed door. I believe I said you could go.

What of your fathers work? Baden said, his voice hoarse. His dream of leading our people out of their bondage to this land.

He raised an eyebrow. Yes? What of it?

I intend to see that dream fulfilled, Arlin. And hed want you to help me.

You intend? I dont think so, Sarle. As you say, Lord Baden, my father is dead. I very much doubt he wants or dreams anything.

I see, said Sarle Baden. Two small words, very clipped. Very tight. Do you have any objection if I take up his cause?

Every objection under the sun. Sarle, Sarle He smiled. You can leap into a whirlpool for all I care.

The chamber door slammed so hard behind his fathers best friend that the glass in the window shivered, in danger of breaking.

There was brandy in the privy guest parlour. Disdaining the polite civility of a glass, Arlin drank it straight from the bottle. Felt its fumes sear his nose and eyes. Felt its potency fog his flogged mind.

I am an orphan. My father is dead.

Silly of him to be so surprised, really. Contrary to impressions, his father had been merely mortal. A man. No more and no less. But he was surprised. It had never seemed possible for Rodyn Garrick to die.

I should weep. Arent I meant to be weeping? I am the bereaved. He was my father. I should weep.

But there werent any tears. His eyes were dry. He was empty. So he drank some more brandy, to fill himself up.

For Deenie, the two-week journey back to the City was the worst of her life.

With Da so poorly, retching three or four times an hour, Rafe drove the carriage the whole way. Mama had wanted to hire someone but Rafe wouldnt let her, even though he was retching too, and Da was asleep when they talked of it so he couldnt take her side. Mama was so worried about him she let Rafe win the argument. At leastthat was partly why. But there was another reason. Deenie could feel it, bubbling under the surface. She could see it in the way Mama wouldnt quite meet Rafes eyes, and how Rafe was fretted about Da but didnt sit with him while Mama packed their things.

Rafe was so angry, hotter and gnarlier than shed ever felt him. It had something to do with what happened on the harbour. With the terrible burst of power shed felt in her brother, that had buried her face in the pillow and made her scream, and scream, and scream. With the power that was in him now, finally set free.

But nobody was talking about that.

They left Westwailing at first light the next day, even though Mayor Threeve came to the Dancing Dolphin himself and begged them to stay so Da or Mama or Rafel or someone could make the whirlpools and the waterspouts disappear. But that couldnt be done. She heard Da telling Mama that, his voice broken and sad, and Mama told Mayor Threeve. He tried to argue, upset and blustery, but Mama stood her ground. Then the mayor started on about the drowned Doranen, and how thered been an official complaint made, and how if they didnt want trouble theyd stay as long as they were wanted and then maybe

And that was when Rafel stormed out of his chamber, crackling with so much power Mayor Threeve nearly wet himself.

You come here threatening us? said Rafel, looming over the frighted mayor. What are you? Arlin Garricks yapping lapdog?

Mayor Threeve was twice Rafes age and an important man, but he turned pale as buttermilk. Nonoyou misunderstand. I

No, Meister Mayor, you misunderstand, said Rafe, his eyes glittering. Only a fool would listen to Arlin Garrick right now. His da got swallowed by a whirlpool. Hes half out of his mind with grief. And my da nigh on killed himself trying to save Arlins da and them other Doranen mages and your fishermen. So in the morning were going home. The harbours your problem. Da told you it was a mistake to fuddle it. You shouldve bloody listened.

Almost weeping, Mayor Threeve gave up and left.

In the morning it was pouring rain, but Rafel wouldnt change his mind about driving. He didnt want to sit in the carriage with Da and Mama he wanted to be on his lonesome, no matter if that meant he got cold and wet and caught an ague. Mama was so hurt, but she pretended she wasnt. She put Da in the carriage, wrapped snug in a blanket and so poorly, and didnt say another word.

The rain fell for three days, unceasing. For three days in the steadily rolling carriage, with Da sleeping and heaving and Mama silent, Deenie huddled in the corner and watched the sodden world go by, silent, because her parents werent talkative and Rafel hardly rubbed two words together, even when they stopped for the night at this inn, or that one.

They woke on the fourth day to clouds, but no rain. Mama, I want to sit up with Rafel a while, she said as they snatched a plain, cold breakfast. Can I? Please?

Da roused himself. He still looked awful, his eyes sunken, his face horribly pale. Every time he breathed, it looked like the air hurt him. His lips were dry and cracked.

Course you can, mouse, he said. Rafel wont mind.

Except her brother did mind, she could see it in his surly eyes. She waited for him to argue. Was surprised when he didnt. Asked him why, when they were back on the puddled road home.

Rafel shrugged. Why should I care? Its not like Im going to talk to you. You might as well be luggage.

And that stung, like he knew it would. Days gone by since the Harbour and he wasnt one whit less hot and gnarly. She didnt bite back. She knew that would be pointless. So she sat beside him like luggage, glad to be in the fresh air. Content to enjoy the dank green countryside, the flitting birds in the hedgerows, the breeze in her face, the carriage horses, and wait for him to talk.

Because he would. She knew her brother.

Five hours later, he stirred. Theyd bought pasties and cold fresh milk for lunch in Yelton, one of the tiny villages leading to the Flatlands, and hed let her hold the heavy reins while he ate and drank, now that the worst of his retching was done. Taking them back from her, grunting begrudging thanks, he looked at her sideways.

Why dont you bite me? he said, sounding almost resentful. Why dyou let me treat you so mean?

She could still taste her own pasty, tingly-spiced on her tongue. Youre upset. I dont mind.

Upset, he muttered, and slapped the reins hard against the carriage horses backs, to stir them into a faster trot. Is that what you call it?

Sitting beside him was like sitting next to a furnace. The power in him burned so hot, so bright. Hed never burned like this before West-wailing harbour. She thought she could find him blindfolded, in the middle of the night.

You can feel it, cant you? said Rafel, accusing. Could you always feel it, Deenie? Were you part of their lie?

Ive never lied to you, Rafe! she protested. Not ever.

You never told me you could feel things. Thats the same as lying. When its about me, its the same.

Now he sounded like a sprat. Like he was working up to a tantrum.

Rafe, I never lied. I never knew. Not about this.

He sighed, a gusty sound full of pain. The only reason I know is cause Da needed my power. If we hadnt gone to Westwailing, chances are Id have never found out. Chances are Id have died an old man, like Darran, and never known what was in me. What I could do.

The cloudy sky was getting lower. The air felt suddenly damp. Any ticktock it was going to start raining again, and once it started raining shed get called back into the carriage. Delicate, Da and Mama said she was.

And I spose I am. But I hate it.

Id be angry too, Rafe, if it was me, she said quickly. Even if I knew why they didnt tell me. Even if I understood it was cause they were scared for me. Id be mad.

Hah, he said, hunching his shoulders. Dont you go wheedling me, Deenie. I aint in the mood.

Im not!

You are. You never get angry. He nudged his elbow to her ribs. You should try it, sometime. Probly do you a world of good.

She didnt think so. It was bad enough feeling other peoples crossness. What are you going to do, Rafe? You cant stay gnarly forever.

Cant I? He slapped the reins again, and the carriage horses increased their pace. Im thinking Ill give it a try.

Oh, Rafe

Dont fret on it, he said sharply. Its not your problem, is it?

In a way it was. Because what he felt, she felt, whether she wanted to or not. And what he felt, so hot and hard, was making her feel ill.

They love you, Rafe, she murmured. How can you punish them for loving you? Its not fair.

He glared at the carriage horses broad brown backs. How can they love me and lie to me? Is that fair?

Poor Rafe. He wanted this to be simple. He wanted him to be right, and them to be wrong, and no uncomfortable middle ground between the two. But nothing in life was ever not messy. Shed learned that much from all the things she could feel. She let her head fall against his shoulder, and waited for him to shrug her away. But he didnt. Her eyes prickled with tears, there was so much pain in him.

And then it started to rain, and Mama called her inside.

Order! Order! I call this meeting of the General Council to order! Speaker Shifrin bellowed, banging his gavel almost to breaking. If you do not come to order I shall disband these proceedings!

The General Council ignored him. Defeated, frustrated, Shifrin collapsed onto his seat, tossed his gavel to his desk and sank his head into his hands. All around him the tempest raged on, accusations and refutations and lamentations and disarray.

Asher considered shocking them all to silence with a thunderbolt or three. But only briefly. Things were bad, but they werent so far downhill he had to tell these shriekin fools the truth about his Weather Magic. Not today.

And Barl bloody willing, not ever.

But in the meantime there were no reason he had to put up with this malarkey. Two days after reaching home from Westwailing and he was pretty much recovered from his exertions there. Kerrils mucky possets had done the trick. He still got tired a mite easy. Still felt a few aches and pains in his bones. And when he closed his eyes to sleep he could hear the ravenous whirlpool, roaring

But it didnt kill me. Nor Rafel, neither. And them it did kill, well, we did our best to save the poor bastards. I aint about to blame either of us for them.

Others might. Others did. Not Arlin Garrick, not yet any road. Word was hed collapsed in private grief. But Garricks friend, Sarle Baden. He was makin a fuss. Fernel bloody Pintte. Natter, natter, natter to anyone whod lissen. But so far theyd done nowt official, and if they changed their mindswell, theyd best look out. Because hed warned em, hed bloody told em, dont muck about with Dragonteeth Reef.

But there aint no tellin nowt to a yellow-headed mage. Or any Olken as arrogant as Pintte.

He looked at Council Speaker Shifrin, expecting him to bang his gavel again and restore order, but Rufus had given up trying to assert his authority. So he looked at Doranas mayor, cause Pellen wouldnt have put up with this folderol for two minutes, but Fernel Pintte were too busy brangling with Sarle Baden, wearing his little bandage round his forehead like a bloody badge of honour.

Scowling, Asher shoved to his feet.

Down to me, again, eh? Whys it always come down to me? Shouldering his way through clots of fratching Olken and Doranen, he fetched up at the Speakers table and rapped his knuckles hard upon its document-crowded top.

What ydoin, Rufus? Be you the Speaker or aint you?

Rufus glared. You want to knock sense into their idiot heads, Asher? Youre welcome to try. He hauled his chain of office over his head and threw it down on the meetings laboriously handwritten agenda. Im done with it.

Oh no you bloody aint, he retorted. Cause if you quit, some fools like to ask me to take over. Now, you put that bloody chain back on, and Ill get em to quit their cacklin.

He clambered his way onto Shifrins Speakers table. Summoned his bell from Justice Hall, boldly using Doranen magic, and raised it clanging over his head.

Shut your traps! he bellowed. The whole sinkin bloody lot of you! One by one they fell silent, the Olken and the Doranen chosen by their guilds and their districts to meet in General Council once a month to thrash out issues of importance to Lur. When at last the only sound in the chamber was the bells clamour, he put it down on the table. Raked his jaundiced gaze over them, and slowly shook his head.

You lot, you be a bloody disgrace. Reckon the folks as sent you here want you carryin on like this? Raisin hackles and pointin fingers and lookin for somebody to blame? Whats the use, eh? Blamin each other aint goin to fix our troubles.

Sheepish sideways glances. Gazes dropped to the floor. Hands pushed into pockets and shawls tugged tight. Shamefaced the lot of em, and so they bloody should be.

I cant deny we got ourselves a bad situation, he continued, staying on the table. With them whirlpools and waterspouts springin up like weeds everywhere between the reef and Lurs coastline, and every bloody fishin fleet in the kingdom stuck at anchor or smashed to kindling. We got a lot of families without their livelihoods just now.

Its worse than that, Asher, said Sarle Baden. Without the fishing fleets catches and not enough fish in our rivers and lakes to make up the difference, and the wheat and barley crops ruined almost to a field, stock drowned or dropping with footrotand theres a pestilence been found in my apple orchards, Ive just had wordLur faces a crisis the likes of which has not been seen for centuries.

Agitated muttering from Olken and Doranen alike. Then Bediah Threeve, come up to Dorana from Westwailing specially for this meeting, tucked his thumbs into his braces and rocked on his heels.

Are you sure there aint a chance you can fix Lurs harbours, Asher? You and your boy?

Me and my boy. He felt the words prick him, like spurs. Hed hardly laid eyes on Rafe since Westwailing Harbour. Days and days of silence and avoiding each other. Cause they had too much to say and no bloody way of sayin it, all choked up with grief and guilt and anger and blame. Dathne told him not to push. Give it time. And he was trying. He was. Only

Asher! said Threeve. Can you fix them? We need to know.

The Council chamber was dead quiet, like a crypt. Every gaze on him, every breath held.

He stared at Westwailings mayor. Fix em, Bediah? No. You got told in Westwailingaint no-one can fix em, which be why I said dont fuddle with the bloody reef in the first place.

And they didnt like hearing that, but so what? It were the truth and he werent about to swallow it cause some folk found it inconvenient. Or cause Rodyn Garrick and his friends had died of their foolishness.

Frustrated, he stared around the gathered faces. You think I aint gutted by whats happened? Ythink I dont want to snap mfingers and make them whirlpools and waterspouts disappear? But I cant, so best you stop hangin your hats on the hope I can. He raised a warning finger then. And my boy cant, neither, so dont none of you get the bright idea of bailin Rafel up and fratchin at him till he says hell try just to make you go away.

Because you bloody would, and he would, and Ill fettle every last one of you if you put my son at risk.

Rufus shifted uneasily in his seat. Yes. About Rafel, Asher

More mutters and whispers. Exchanged glances. Fresh tension.

Aye, Rufus, he said, sighing. For once the Citys tattlemongers be right. Rafes got a drop of Doranen magic in him, like his da.

Sarle Baden fixed him with a piercing pale grey stare. You kept it a secret.

That an accusation, Lord Baden?

An observation.

Aye, well, here be another one, he said, letting his temper show. My family aint none of your bloody business. He looked around the crowded chamber. And that goes for the rest of you. If it be good enough that I got Doranen magic, you better bloody believe it be good enough for my son. And anyone who says different, youll answer to me. Now, are we here to talk on tacklin Lurs problems or do we turn round and go home?

Theres only one answer to our woes, Fernel Pintte declared. This Council must rescind the prohibition on sending expeditions over Barls Mountains.

Why? demanded Sarnia Marnagh, one of the few in the chamber whod kept her seat. So you can forcibly eject all the Doranen from Lur? Chase us out of the only home weve ever known? Is that your intention, Meister Mayor? To start a Doranen purge, and save yourselves at our expense?

Her angry question ignited fresh uproar, Olken shouting at Doranen, Doranen waving clenched fists at Olken. Asher, closing his eyes, felt a stirring in the air. Anger and power were a dangerous combination.

Barl bloody save us all. Reckon well cut each others throats long afore we got a chance to starve to death.

No point ringing the bell again. He needed to be a bit more definite this time. Recalling a spell hed read in Durms privy notebook, he muttered its words, drew its sigils, and watched every chair in the chamber leap as though come to life. Watched them rattle and bang and make a bloody good racket, thudding and scraping against the mosaiced floor. Felt a grim satisfaction to hear the startled cries, the squeals of fright, to see the wrath of Barl put into every last fratchin bloody one of em.

Wheezing Barlsman Jaffee, whod tipped out of his seat and was frowning gently in reproof, reached up and tapped him on the knee. I think youve made your point, Asher, he said, breaking the shocked silence. Now take advantage of the moment and get these fools to listen. For if we dont take action quickly, I do fear Lur is doomed.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

For once the wittering ole Barlsman were offering pithy advice. Still stood on the Speakers table, he fisted his hands on his hips. You heard Barlsman Jaffee, he said loudly. Now sit down again, the lot of you.

Olken and Doranen stared at him, unwilling to obey.

Plant your bloody arses or I swear Ill start throwin the furniture!

Eyes wide, every councilor sat. Wary now, a smidgin afraid. Rememberingand not before bloody timethat he were the man whod killed the sorcerer Morg.

Fernel, Fernel, he said, shaking his head. You dont bloody learn, do you? First the Harbour, now this. Tollin proved there werent nowt for us beyond the mountains.

Tollin crossed the mountains fourteen years ago! Pintte retorted, on his feet. How arrogant you are, to stand on that table declaring theres no point us seeing for ourselves whats happened in the world in all that time. Or do you claim to know without seeing? Does this mean theres something else youre not telling us, Asher? Or are you simply making things up?

As the Council chamber rustled with whispers, Asher climbed down off the Speakers table. Put himself at floor level, with Pintte, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

You sayin I be a liar, Meister Mayor?

Pintte held his ground. Im saying yourewhats your quaint term for it? Oh yes. Frighted. And because yourefrightedyou want everyone else to be frighted too.

You poxy shit, I shouldve let you drown. So. I be a liar and a coward?

Relishing an audience, Pintte smiled with mock-humility. Asher, once you did Lur a great service. I dont deny it. But that great service did not make you our king. You dont lay down the law or issue decrees. You are one voice, no louder or more important than any other. He indicated the gathered Council with a sweep of his arm. And we, the chosen representatives of Lurs people, we decide what will be done and what wont.

Asher considered him. What? Like you decided how itd be a clever idea to try breakin the magic in Dragonteeth Reef? That worked out dandy, didnt it? So aye, by all means, lets go rompin over the mountains, Fernel. I mean, what could go wrong, eh?

Then what do you suggest we do? Fernel shouted above the renewed clamour. Cling to the frail hope Barl will send us a miracle? If Barl cared for Lur wed not be suffering now!

Frail hope? said Jaffee, creaking to his feet. I find that an unfortunate choice of words, Meister Mayor. Particularly since you are shouting at one of Barls miracles. Youve accused Asher of arrogance. The same might be said of you in declaring she has abandoned us.

Fernels chin came up sharply. Barl was a Doranen. It was the Doranen who brought calamity here in the first place. Forgive me if Im reluctant to trust Lurs future to the hands of the sorceress who helped create this dilemma.

The council chamber burst into another furious uproar. This time both Olken and Doranen berated Pintte. But not all of them, Asher noted. At least not all the Olken. A handful ranged themselves beside Doranas mayor, vigorously defending him against attack.

He slumped on the edge of the Speakers table, not at all inclined to put himself in the middle of this brangle. This were Jaffees business, him bein Lurs senior Barlsman. But Jaffee didnt seem inclined to fight.

I miss Holze. He were a doughty man. He stood up to Morg. But Jaffee aint got hisself much of a spine.

In the end it was Sarle Baden who called for order, and was listened to. As one of the mages who survived Westwailing, one of the most powerful Doranen mages left in Lur, he could clap his hands together and flare a bit of light round hisself and that gave folk pause long enough for him to get a word in edgewise.

Its no secret, Mayor Pintte, that you harbour resentment towards my people, he said. And that you wish for us to leave this kingdom and never return. Nor is it a secret that your sentiments are shared by many Olken. His eyes narrowed as he smiled without warmth. Its time this Council knew that as many Doranen feel the same way.

Stunned silence. Then Rufus cleared his throat, and leaned forward over the Speakers table. You want to leave Lur?

Youre surprised, Speaker Shifrin? said Baden, turning, his pale eyebrows lifted. Have youhas any Olkennever once wondered if the Doranen are happy here?

Of course were happy, Lady Marnagh said quickly, and looked around the chamber at the Olken seated nearest her. Lur is our home. Lord Baden, please dont presume to speak for

Lur is our adopted home, Baden interrupted smoothly. Forced upon us centuries ago by dire circumstances. But times have changed, Sarnia. Morg is dead and somewhere beyond Barls Mountains lies our true homeland. Lost Dorana. There are many of us who wish to return there and create for ourselves lives not circumscribed by outdated, unnecessary laws.

Asher frowned. Laws against muckin about with magic?

Youd have us abandon Barls wisdom? said Jaffee. Lord Baden, that would be

A choice, said Baden. That I and many Doranen believe should be available to us. Hence our willingness to assist in breaking the reef.

But you failed, said Jaffee. You should take it as a sign.

And so we do, Pintte declared. A sign that its time for a second expedition to cross Barls Mountains. On this, at least, Lord Baden and I are in perfect accord.

Pintte Asher shook his head in tired disbelief. Did that knock on your noggin doddle you altogether? How many times dyou need to hear it? There aint nowt for us over them bloody mountains.

I dont believe that, said Pintte, his jaw clenched tight. If Tollin had pushed on, if hed not cravenly turned back when

He slid off the Speakers table. Cravenly? Whats that sposed to mean? Are you sayin Tollin and his people were cowards cause they turned for home once folk started dyin?

Fernel Pinttes face reddened. If they hadnt let their fears overcome them then

Then what? he demanded, furious. Pintte, you be an ignorant fool. Only thing any of usll find over them mountains be a slow cruel death. And if you reckon Im about to stand here with my thumb stuck up my arse while you chinwag frighted folk into throwin their lives away on your bloody say-soafter Westwailing?then you aint been payin close enough attention to me.

Not giving spluttering Pintte a chance to reply, he rounded on Sarle Baden.

And you! You got a bloody nerve, Lord Baden. You know in your belly how bad Morgs magic is. How long it survives. How it twists and kills. Your friend Lord Garrick just died goin up agin Morgs magic. And you want to send folk out to where that mad bastard once ruled? Whats wrong with you? Eh? What are you thinkin?

Pale with fury, Sarle Baden pushed his way through his fellow councilors until he, too, stood before the Speakers table. I am thinking that if Barl hadnt rendered the Doranen impotent there would be a chance of us defeating Morgs legacy, he spat. For youre right about one thing, Asherwe have no hope of cleansing the world of his stain when the only magic we have is the watered-down trumpery left to us by Barl. But somewhere beyond the mountains, in Lost Dorana, lies our true magic. Our heritage. It is past time we reclaimed it. And because my friend Rodyn Garrick died for that dream, I am determined to finish what he began.

By going over them mountains?

Yes, said Baden. Asher, there are Doranen who were prepared to brave the ocean beyond Dragonteeth Reef. Even though we have never been a seafaring race. Compared to those terrors, braving a mountain range is nothing. The Doranen did it once. We can do it again.

With Fernel Pintte, whos been agitatin against you? Stirrin up bad feelings and creatin ill will?

Baden spared Pintte a brief, sidelong look. With anyone wholl help us achieve our aims. Besides. What Pintte and Olken like him feel isnt new, Asher. Your people have resented mine for six hundred years. He smiled without warmth again. As you well know. You mayve been friends with King Gar, but otherwise ?

Dont you chuck me in the same basket as Fernel bloody Pintte, he said, his voice low. I might not have a lot of time for your folk, Baden, but that be a long stones throw from wantin to see you tossed out of Lur on your arses.

Baden sighed. This isnt about us being tossed, Asher. Its about us leaving of our own free will.

You see? said Fernel Pintte, triumphant. So Asher, will you attempt to force people to stay where they have no desire to be?

Loathing Pintte, confronted by questions hed never asked himself and didnt want to answer now, in public, he looked at Jaffee.

Barlsman? You got an opinion on this?

Not at present, said Jaffee, sounding shaken. I would pray on the matter before passing pronouncement.

We dont require your prayers, Baden said bluntly. Nor do we seek the approval of a woman dead six centuries. The religion you serve holds no purpose for us, Jaffee. We look to Lost Dorana for answers now, not to a painting on your precious chapel wall.

As the chamber echoed with alarm and consternation, Asher glared at Fernel Pintte. Now look what you started, you meddlesome shit. What Lord Baden believes or dont believe aint no business of this Council, he said. Reckon that be between him and Barlsman Jaffee and Barl. The only thing as matters to us right now is this fool idea of puttin together another expedition. So I reckon we ought to

And what I reckon, said Fernel Pintte, raising his voice, is that you should tell us the truth, Asher. At last. Tell us how youve known for ten years that trouble was coming to our poor little kingdom. Tell us what your peculiar mage senses told youthat you refused to tell this Council.

Asher felt his mouth suck dry.

You bastard, Pintte. You stupid, stupid bastard.

Asher? said Lady Marnagh, as the silence stretched to breaking point. What is he talking about?

Not a sound in the chamber. Hardly even a drawn breath as thirty shocked gazes skewered him. He could feel his heart pound to pulp against his ribs. With an effort he unclenched his fists. Steeled himself for a lie that had to be told.

Asher, said Jaffee. Is what he says true?

Aye, its true. Ten years ago I knew Lur might be in strife. I felt things. Wrong things, in the earth and the air. I

But Asher, said Jaffee, frowning. In the Mage Councilwhen I raised the matter you said

It was hard, bloody hard, but he made himself meet the old clerics pained stare without flinching. I know what I said, Barlsman. But

So Rodyn was right, said Sarle Baden. He told me youd lied. Did he perish because of that lie, Asher? Did he die in Westwailing because

No! he shouted over the Councils outcry. I tried to save Garrick down in Westwailing. I tried to save all of you! I lied in the Mage Council cause I werent sure of what I felt and I didnt want to start a panic for nowt! Turns out I were wrong, and I be sorry for that, but

So you say now, said Baden. But with Rodyn dead

No, no. This were all going wrong. I aint the only one knew somethin werent right, Baden! Fernel bloody Pintte knew. Why not say he wanted Rodyn Garrick drowned?

Youd smear me to save yourself? Pintte demanded. How typical. My friends He stared around the turmoiled chamber. I had nothing to do with what happened in Westwailing. As you all know, I nearly died myself.

Choked almost beyond breathing, Asher shook his head. I swear on Barls bones, I tried to save everyone. I never let a soul perish, not one.

We know you did, said Barlsman Jaffee, and looked darkly at Sarle Baden. To suggest otherwise is wicked calumny. But this other business He sighed. Meister Mayor

Yes! said Pintte, truculent. I held my tongue ten years ago, its truebecause Asher said speaking out would be dangerous. I held it because hes the Innocent Mage, above reproach, and may Barl forgive me for that. Perhaps if I had trusted myself instead of Asher wed have long since found what we need somewhere beyond the mountains. Then we wouldnt have risked the dangers of Dragonteeth Reef, and young Arlin Garrick and all those other families would not be in deep mourning even as we meet here today. He turned, his eyes burning with hatred and triumph. Think of it, Asher. All those deaths avoided. Our peoples terror avoided. Perhaps even famine and widespread suffering avoided if only I had not trusted you.

He felt dizzy. Sick. So everything gone wrong in the kingdom be my fault, Pintte? Is that it?

No, no, I hardly think so, said Barlsman Jaffee, distressed, his wheezing louder. Certainly there are some questions to be answered but

Yes, said Pintte, over-riding Jaffee. Do you dispute me, Asher? Do you deny anything Ive said?

Asher stared round the council chamber. At the hostile faces and the doubts and the fears. Watched folk look down, look away, refuse to meet his eyes. So. He could argue Pinttes accusations till he were breathless, but the damage was already done.

No.

No, said Pintte, almost crooning. And tell us this, Asher, since for once you seem inclined towards honestycan you save Lur this time? Are you still the Innocent Mage?

Sweat was trickling down his spine. No.

Then I think, said Fernel Pintte, his voice raised over the Councils loud dismay, that you should stop interfering with those who would seek to do what you cant. Indeedit seems to me youve done quite enough.

Feeling sick enough to vomit now, Asher stared at Fernel Pintte. Then he looked around the suddenly silent council chamber. You want to blame me for Lurs troubles? Fine. Blame me. I cant stop you, he said, hearing his voice grate. Feeling his throat close. You want to listen to Pintte? And Baden? You want to send your loved ones over them mountains? Then you send em. I cant stop that neither. But when they dont come back, or when they come back dyin, like Tollin and his folk? Dont say I never warned you. Dont you bloody dare say it. Cause heres me standing afore you, and Im sayin dont do it. Cause itll end in blood and tears, I promise. Just like Westwailing.

The silence persisted, and still folk wouldnt meet his eyes. Pintte was smiling. Sarle Baden was impassive. So he shrugged and walked out.

Werent nowt else he could do.

Dathne took one look at Ashers face as he slouched into the Tower solar and put aside her quill and paper.

What is it? Whats happened?

Instead of answering, he crossed to the rain-slicked window. Rested his forehead and one fisted hand on its leadlined diamond panes, looking so defeated she had to fight herself not to run to him. But any kind of fussing would only rouse his temper. Since Westwailing hed been prickly, quick to snap and snarl. He blamed himself for everything. Not stopping the mageworking. Not saving the lives that were lost. For Arlin Garricks violent grief. For Rafel and Deenie, and what they suffered. In truth shed not yet quite forgiven him for that, either but the rest?

The rest wasnt his fault. Sometimes people cant be saved from themselves. When is he going to learn that lesson?

Never, most likely. Because he was a good man who couldnt bear to see anyone in strife.

Asher She clasped her hands on her small writing desk. Please. Dont shut me out.

He sighed. Pintte. And Sarle Baden.

Not Rafe? she said, sick with sudden fear. Theyre not raising trouble because of his

No, he said quickly. Rafes fine. They dont care about him.

Then what?

Unsteadily, he told her. When the sorry tale was finished he fell silent, his breathing harsh. His face hidden. Tormented by her own pain, her own guilt, she stared at him, silent. Then a stirring of awareness turned her gaze to the solar doorway. Deenie was standing there, her blue cotton blouse and skirt dusted with flour. Shed been downstairs in the kitchen, baking with Meistress Watt. But of course, being Deenie, her fathers distress had called her like a beacon.

Dathne shook her head. Not now. Deenie nodded, her thin face stricken, and softly withdrew. Such a good girl. If only there was a way toto undo what she could do. Life promised to be cruel if she continued to feel everything so keenly.

She looked again at Asher. His back was still turned to her. Im sorry, she whispered. If I hadnt asked Fernel to come here that first timeBarls tits, I knew he could be difficult. But hes one of our best mages. I thought we needed him.

Aint your fault, Dath, he said wearily. I be the one who said to keep what we knew secret.

To protect Lur! To prevent panic! Not for any other reason. Not toto miser power to yourself, or

Aye, but that aint the point now, is it? he said, and shifted to face her. His eyes were grieved. The point is hes got folk lookin at me sideways. Doubtin me. Wonderin what else I know that I aint told. And Dath, I have got secrets.

Everyones got secrets, Asher.

Not like mine they bloody havent! The Weather Magic. Barls diary. What I did to keep Lur steady. And if folk ever find out

They wont, she said, standing. But Asher, even if they did, Ill never believe the likes of Fernel Pintte or Sarle Baden could turn the people of Lur against you. Not after what youve suffered and sacrificed for this kingdom. She felt rage rise, scalding her blood. And if they try

Dath Asher rubbed at his eyes. It aint me you should fret on. Pintte and Baden be set on gettin up a second expedition. Pinttes come right out and said itthe Doranen dont belong here. And that bloody Sarle Baden, he stood there agreein with him. He says there be a mort-load of Doranen mages as want to quit Lur fast as they can. They want to go home, to Lost Dorana.

So let them, she retorted. We wont miss them. We dont need them any more.

Now you sound like bloody Pintte, he said, staring.

She shrugged. Being hateful doesnt always make him wrong. Asher, Lurs broken. Too broken to fix. You know it. With the Doranen gone, the strain eases on the rest of us.

You dont mean that, he said, pushing away from the window. Crossed to the solars couch and dropped onto it as though every breath, every step, hurt him. Dath, Pintte and Baden are goin to get em all killed. Every last fool they hoodwink into goin with em? Theyll die.

Asher Hesitant, she joined him on the couch. Left some distance between them so hed not feel cornered. If people choose to go, then

Then I dont need to lose sleep on em? he demanded. Thats what you said about Westwailing, Dathne. And in case you aint noticed, Im bloody losin sleep! I cant stand back and watch the Doranen go to their deaths. How could I make that right with Gar?

She reached for his hand. Gar is dead, Asher. Your loyalty belongs to the living. To your people. The Olken.

It mightve been true, but it was the wrong thing to say. Even as she spoke the words she knew that but it was too late. He leapt up, and started pacing.

There be enough folk dead, Dath. I cantI aint about to He rounded on her. I can stop this. I can make it so no-one has to leave.

She went cold. Asher, dont even think it.

He took a step towards her. Dath, I

No. She flung up both hands, halting him. After Westwailing? After what happened the last time? No. Besideseven if you could pour more magic into that Weather map without killing yourself, which you cant, how would it solve anything? The Doranen want to leave. And youve no right to stop them!

They want to leave cause they be frighted by whats gone wrong in Lur! he retorted. And cause Sarle Badens fillin their heads full of romantic bloody nonsense. If they werent frighted they wouldnt lissen. Hed just be some crackpot, mutterin in a corner. And Pintte? Bloody Pinttes usin Lurs strife as an excuse to push em out! And neither one of em wants to be told there aint nowhere to go!

Then stop trying to tell them! Stop trying to save people who dont want to be saved!

Incredulous, Asher stared at her. Dathne, you aint thinkin. The Councils goin to say yes to Pintte and Badens expedition. And when it fails, cause it will, the rest of usll be right back where we started. Stuck here in Lur, and Lur fallin to pieces around us. So if I dont try fixin things, what happens then?

I dont know, she said, defiant. Terrified. All I know is that you promised me youd not touch that Weather map again. Asher, you promised. And if you break that promise I will never forgive you.

And she walked out so he could think on that for a little while, on his lonesome.

Goose peered over the rim of the vast oak tub. No, he said. Not yet. Keep crushing.

Sweating, choking on the stink of bruised malted barley, Rafel glared. Ive been crushing the bloody stuff for hours, Goose. My arms are about to fall off!

Youve been crushing it for nigh on five minutes, said Goose, grinning. You little girl.

Little girl? He blotted his forehead dry with his sleeve. In case youre addled from drinking your own ale, Meister Goose, you might remember Im back from Westwailing where

You were a hero. I know, said Goose, still grinning. Then the grin slipped. And came bloody close to feeding a whirlpool. So if youre still weary, then

He was. Not just from the harbour, but from the long carriage drive home, tooand most of all from the effort it took to keep his newly woken magic contained. It was unruly, his power. Simmering always on the edge of his mind. Teasing, taunting, demanding to be let loose. And fighting, fighting so hard, cause he couldnt let it. Cause it had to be contained.

Oh yes. He was weary.

But hed skin himself alive before admitting it. Weary yourself! he scoffed, and starting pounding the malt again. You roll them oats. Thats your job, I reckon, not giving me grief.

Snorting, Goose fed another scoop of groats into the handroller and cranked its heavy handle. Come on, Rafe. Life aint worth living if I cant give you grief.

Ha! he said, and picked up his heavy wooden hammer. Life aint worth living upside down in an ale casket, neither!

Goose pulled a face. True.

Comfortably companionable, they continued pounding and rolling. Goose was experimenting with a new ale recipe hed dreamed up, so they were making a small batch in the home brewery down the back of his family house. The air was thick with the rich smell of crushed malt and rolled oats, and damp with steam from the huge kettles of freshly boiled water standing ready to make the mash for fermenting.

Rafel, watching Goose roll his last scoop of oats, seeing the fierce concentration in his friends face, and the carefully buried excitement, felt a pang of envy. Lucky Goose, knowing what he loved and was good at. Was allowed to be good at. No-one ogled him for being a brewer. No-one stared at him with curiosity and suspicion. As though he might erupt into dangerous magic any ticktock.

Goose looked up from his rolling. Hows your father?

Da? He reached for the broad oak paddle and loosened up the crushed malt. Hes fine.

And you?

And me.

You sure?

He scowled. Yes.

The look on Gooses face said he wasnt convinced. These days his da wasnt Meister of the Brewers Guild but that didnt stop him hearing every last whisper from what went on in the General Council. Three days had passed since Das brangle with Fernel Pintte. Dorana was still buzzing on itand City folk didnt know half of what went on.

And I only know all of it cause Goose told me. His da talks to him like the man grown he is. Da and Mama want to keep me a sprat. Even after Westwailing, theyre trying to protect me. When are they going to realise its too late for that?

Goose came over to check the pounded malt again. Thatll do, he declared, and fetched the large pail of rolled oats. Together they lifted the heavy tub of malt, tipped it into the oats, then shoved the emptied tub to one side. Here, said Goose, handing him the oak paddle. Mix them up good and proper.

Aye, sir, he said, and got stuck in with the paddle. While he mixed the malt and oats, Goose lugged over the empty oak barrel set aside for his new ale. Levered the first full, steaming kettle off the stove and tipped the boiled water out slowly, encouraging more steam to billow. Tipped in the second kettle, and some of the third.

Right, said Goose, smiling. He was a man who surely loved his work. Time for the magic.

They dribbled the dry malted barley and rolled oats into the sloshing oak barrel, then Rafel stood back as Goose poured in more steaming water. When that was done his friend nodded, well pleased.

Now we wait a bit. Fancy a tot of my last brew?

What was your last brew? he said, feeling cautious. I aint of a mind to tiddly myself so early in the day.

You wont, Goose promised. Its mild as mothers milk. Weaker than what were brewing here, which is why I had a little fiddle with the recipe.

Rafel took the cool bottle Goose offered him, plucked from a clay-and-tile lined pit in the brewery floor, unstopped it and swallowed. Liquid gold poured down his throat. Not bad, he said, pretending indifference, and hitched his hip onto a handy oak barrel. Id pay for it in a pinch, if I had to.

Goose didnt bite. So tell me the truth, Rafe, he said. How are you? He sighed. Shouldve known he wouldnt let it go. He never does. The day they got back from the coast he told Goose everything about Westwailing. Told him how Da had hidden most of his magic from him for years, and only revealed the truth cause hed been pushed to it. With Goose there wasnt any need to hide. All his pain, his rage, his bewildered betrayalGoose knew it all. There was comfort in that.

I aint fine.

Goose was watching him closely. You still not talking to your dad?

Not about He shook his head. Not really.

Rafe.

He swallowed more ale. He could talk to me. He could say sorry.

Maybe he doesnt know how, Goose said gently.

Or maybe hes not sorry.

And if hes not? said Goose. What then? Are you going to stay mad at him forever?

Bloody Goose and his questions. As bad as Deenie, he was. You saying I aint got a right to be mad?

Im saying with whats going on, maybe theres other folk deserve your anger more than him. Fernel Pintte, for one.

Aye, he admitted, feeling his belly gripe. Fratched as he was at Da, and he was bloody fratched, what Pintte had said in the General Council I tell you, Goose, I wish Id never helped save that poxy shits life. Or Sarle Badens.

Goose snorted into his ale. Dont let Barlsman Jaffee hear you say that. Then he shook his head. Sarle Badens grieving, and Pinttes raving, you know that. Your dadhed never hurt Lur. Only a fool would think it. Only a mean fool would say it. Fernel Pinttes a mean bloody fool, Rafe.

I know, he agreed. Da knows it too. But stillhes hurt. Hed never say so but I can tell. He grimaced. Even if we aint talking.

What your dad said about not sending more folk over the mountains, Goose said, frowning. Did he mean it?

Course he meant it. You ever know my da to say nowt he didnt mean?

But Goose was still frowning. He doesnt know for sure that what Tollin wrote about is still true, does he? Hes not had a vision or anything. Right?

Right, he said slowly. I spose you could say its nowt more than a feeling.

Do you feel it? said Goose. Do you think its still death to cross Barls Mountains?

Rafel stared at the brewerys cool brick floor, and was suddenly five years old again. Hiding in the lampha bushes outside the palace, listening to things he wasnt sposed to hear. Looking back at himself, a man now, remembering the sprat hed been, his dreams of exploring, he remembered too how full of fear Tollins voice was. How cracked and seamed with grief. And how angry Da had sounded, that good men died with nowt to show for it but sorrow.

And he remembered Westwailing, so close and so raw. The taint of Morgs sorcery. How he and Da had vomited half the way home, purging that taint the only way their bodies knew how. It meant he understood a bit better, why Da was so set on keeping everyone in Lur.

But does that mean I dont want to go see for myself whats over the mountains?

No. It bloody didnt. Even if it was dangerous he wanted to go.

He looked up at his best friend. Goose, I hate Fernel Pinttes miserable guts but hes right. We cant stay pinned in this kingdom. Not with its troubles, and no sign of healing them.

Goose put down his half-drunk ale bottle on the cool end of the stove. So you think its safe to go?

I didnt say that. What Morg left behind him? He shuddered. I aint got words to tell you. But it aint living magic. Its leftovers. And I reckon it can be beat. I reckon I can beat it. But he couldnt say that out loud, not even to Goose. With enough good mages, any road.

And Sarle Baden? Hes a good mage? Goose said, looking to his brew again. Good enough to keep folk on an expedition safe?

Rafel watched him add more water to the steeping mix of grains in the oak barrel. Breathed in the thick, fuggy smell of the mash. Well, Rodyn Garrick wasnt a complete fool, and he put his life and Arlins in Badens hands when they were working the reef. Why?

Goose fitted the barrels lid back on, put the waterless kettle on the floor with the other two, then shoved his hands in his pockets. And then he pulled one hand free, and rubbed his nose.

Rafe Im going.

Going? he said blankly. Going where? The mash aint done yet, Goose, and I dont know how to finish it. Youre the fancy brewer here, not me.

Rafe. Goose sighed. I mean Im going with Pintee and Baden. It aint been announced yet, but the Councils said yes to another expedition. Pa and I talked it over, and we decided Im going, for the guild.

Years ago, when they were sprats, he and Goose once fratched themselves into fisticuffs. Some stupid reason or other. Maybe hed said Stag was the better pony, no argument. Any road. Goose had punched him in the belly so hard he couldnt breathe. So hard he fell on his arse and sat there gasping like a landed fish, while Goose stood over him with his fists clenched, howling, Take it back! Take it back! So he took it back and they never talked on that again, not ever. He never said diddly about Gooses ponies again, neither. Not the dirty cream one or the one that came after.

Now he stared at his friend, gut-punched a second time. Gut-punched so he couldnt speak, disbelieving and dismayed.

See, the thing is, said Goose, determined, Pas too old. He wants to go, but his legs bad and his chests wheezy and theres no pother who can fix him. And see, Asher, the guilds worried. After all the bad weather the barley yields down by more than half. Sos the oat crop. And the quality of the grain? Nowhere near what it used to be. Ive seen the guild records. And its not just the rain and tremors. Its like Lurs getting tired. Like its worn out with growing things. And weve got to do something. All our brewings are at stake. The whole guilds at stake, I think.

And this is what your da came up with? he said, finding his voice. You joining Pintte and Badens expedition?

Goose nodded. Thats right.

Butwhy you?

Why not me? said Goose, ready to be offended. If its guild business, someone in the guilds got to go. And Gryf Macklin might be Guildmeister these days, but no big decision gets made without Pas chinwag. And he wants it to be me.

What about you, Goose? Do you want to go?

I wasnt sure at first, Goose admitted. Its a big thing. And with what your dad saidbut like you say, he could be wrong. And if I go, then Im a part of something important. Not just for the guild, but for Lur. Id like to do something important. Id like to matter. His cheeks tinted. Like you matter.

Me? Doubly dismayed, Rafel slid off his oak barrel perch and started pacing. Goose, dont be bloody stupid. Aint you the youngest brewer ever to get the Guild Medal? Aint the strong brew you cooked up last winter the best-selling ale in all Dorana City? Goose, youve done more than I have. And you

What? said Goose. Rafel, what?

Youve got a future, he muttered, goaded into saying what hed sworn hed never confess. And whatve I got, eh? Magic nobody wants me to use. And a da asas

Asher, your dads a hero, said Goose. Your dads the greatest man ever born in Lur. Beating Morgand what he did down in Westwailing, he

He aint the same, Goose, he said, still pacing. Westwailingit changed him. Day and night he sits around brooding on them fools who drowned, and on how every harbour in the kingdoms ruined, and how he didnt stop it and how he cant fix Lur. And he broods on my magic.

Cant blame him for that, Rafe, said Goose. Its something to brood on.

Maybe, but its mine, not his, he retorted. Mine to use, mine to ignore, mine to study on, if thats what I want. But Das so scared of magic fuddling me, Goose, hes got me chained up like a dog!

Goose shrugged. Then unchain yourself, why dont you, Rafe? Do what you want. Come with me.

CHAPTER TWENTY

What? Rafel stepped back. Goose, I cant. I mean, I want to, but I cant.

Why not? said Goose, a little hurt. A little puzzled. After all those explorer games we played when we were sprats? I thought Then he jumped, turning. Sink it. The mash.

Thoughts on the new expedition were flung aside as he pulled the lid off the oak barrel, grabbed his stout oak pole and began stirring the malt barley and oat mash, thick as porridge and twice as heavy. It wasnt a job for two, so Rafel again perched himself on the spare oak barrel and watched, his thoughts racing.

I cant go. How can I go? How would it look? And Mama? If I even suggest it, shell never forgive me.

Right, said Goose at last, and hoiked the oak pole out of the barrel. Now it gets to sit for an hour or three. Sticking a thumb-tip into the hot, odorous mash, pulling it out again quickly, he stuck it in his mouth and sucked. Not bad. Should ferment up just right after its sat a spell, and Ive yeasted it.

Pleased to hear it, Rafel muttered, feeling gnarly. Dont know what Dorana Citys alehousesll do with themselves once you gallivant over them mountains.

Splattered with ale mash, stinking of malt, Goose looked at him squarely. Rafe. Are you going to bellyache forever? Until youre an old man? Come with me.

I cant, Goose, he said, feeling wretched. Not after what happened in the Council meeting. Not after what Da said.

Goose picked up his half-finished bottle of ale and emptied it down his gullet. Swallowed, burped enormously, then tossed the bottle onto a handy pile of hessian sacks.

Going to say something now, he announced. You might want to punch me after, but its got to be said so Ill take my chances. And you can sit there with your trap shut and listen, right?

Goose

Trap shut, Goose insisted. And listen.

He folded his arms. Fine. Im listening.

So heres the thing, said Goose. If a whirlpool had took your dad down in Westwailing, like it took Arlins, or if his magic had killed him, youd be on your own now. If he werent here to answer toif hed diedwould you go?

And for a heartbeat he did want to punch Goose, for daring to even ask such a question. For daring to put into loud words that tiny, horrible thought lurking deep in his mind.

I would. I would. I bloody well would.

But he couldnt say it out loud. Whatleave Mama and Deenie behind? Alone? How could I do that?

I guess you couldnt, said Goose. But since your dad isnt dead, Rafe, theyd not be alone. If you want to go, you should go. Like you say, its your life. Not his. He grinned his quirky, lopsided grin. Besides, if you dont come, Rafe, Ill be stuck on my lonesome with Fernel bloody Pintte. Call yourself my friend and do that to me, would you?

Groaning, Rafel pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. You aint fair, Goose. None of its so easy as you make out.

No? said Goose, and busied himself tidying up the oat-roller. How old was your dad again, when he left Restharven to come here?

My age, he muttered. Everybody knows that.

Goose glanced at him sideways, still tidying. So what youre saying is he was man enough at twenty to make his own futureand youre not.

That be a bastard thing to say, Goose, he whispered, when he could find enough breath to speak at all.

Look, said Goose, letting his roller-brush drop by his side. If you dont want to come on the expedition, Rafe, thats one thing. Ill respect that. I will. But if you do want to, and you stay behind because of your dad? Youll regret it. Youll blame him. Hell know you blame him. And pretty soon thingsll go from bad to worse between youand chances are they wont ever improve.

He shook his head, bemused. Since when are you the smart one, Goose? Im the smart one. Youre the one with the beer and ale.

Bollocks, said Goose, grinning. I was always smart, Rafe. You were just too arrogant to notice.

And that stung. Arrogant? I aint arrogant. I just know my own mind. So. Who else is going on this expedition, aside from you and Fernel bloody Pintte and Sarle Baden? Dyou know?

Theres a few names Ive heard mentioned, said Goose. But nobody definite. I heard Arlin Garrick wants to come, only Sarle Baden wont hear of it.

Good. Arlin aint right in his noggin. Hed have killed me soon as look at me, down in Westwailing. Losin his da that way And as much as he hated the poxy shit, he couldnt help but feel sorry. The way Rodyn Garrick had been swallowed alive

Rafe? said Goose. You all right?

He shook himself free of the memory. Aye.

Rafe Goose sighed, all ready sympathy. It might help if you talked on it.

The one thing hed not told Goose was the details of those deaths on the harbour. That would come too close to reliving themand the dreams were bad enough. He didnt want to put those pictures in Gooses head.

One day, he said. Goose, when dyou leave? Is it settled?

Goose nodded. Within a week. Pintte and Baden are jigging some talking stones strong enough to work this time. They dont want to go until theyre sure of that.

It was a sensible precaution. A week, he said. So theres time to change your mind.

Dont want to change my mind, Rafe, Goose said quietly. But a weeks long enough for you to talk your dad roundif you want to.

If he wanted to? Of course he bloody wanted to. The notion of Goose crossing the mountains without him? Unbearable. But to talk Da round theyd have to be talking, wouldnt they? That meant hed have to put aside his anger long enough to take the first step. Which meant what was more important: pride, or friendship?

How can I not go? This is my chance. Maybe my one chance to find out the kind of manthe kind of mageI was born to be.

Ill talk to him, Goose, he said. Ill convince him somehow. Youre right. Times come to stand up for myself. Live life the way I see it. BesidesI dont like to think on the kind of trouble youll find if I let you out of my bloody sight.

Says the man who nearly got himself swallowed by a whirlpool, Goose teased, grinning. You and me, Rafe. Adventure bound at last.

Even though his nerves were jangling, even though he dreaded the conversation to come, he grinned back. Them mountains wont know whats hit em.

They surely wont, said Goose, and they laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Goose shoved him out soon after, with no more help needed brewing the ale and guild work needing attention, so he made his way out of the Brewers district, on foot. His horse was lame with a twisted fetlock and thered been no other horse to borrow. Da and Mama had taken Deenie riding out to Crasthead Moor, hoping fresh air would perk her up after Westwailing. Shed been pale and indifferent ever since they came back. Nerves, said Pother Kerril. Shes too sensitive for her own good.

Thered be no argument from him on that. Every time he turned around the last few days, there was his mousy sister, watching him with those big eyes. Silently urging him to fix things with Da. He wasnt blind, he could see she was feeling their upset. But it was his business, not hers. Best she get used to that.

So many folk stopped him on his way to the High Street, putting aside any fears of him to ask after his father. Matronly Olken women patted his cheek and smoothed his hand, thanking him for what hed done down in Westwailing. They were the ones old enough to have lived through Morg and the Final Days of prophecy, who remembered life with the Doranen before the Olken rediscovered their magic. Da held a special place in their hearts.

Promise youll give him our love, Rafel, they said. Tell him hes in our prayers. We left flowers for him in the Barlschapel. We know what hes owed, even if others dont.

The young Olken women he encountered didnt stop. They just giggled behind their hands, eyelashes fluttering as they passed him in little groups, like flocks of doves. Well. One stopped. Charis. Bold as brass, she was, catching him by the arm so he couldnt walk on, and shooing her friend to stand off at a distance.

Charis made him nervous. She wore long bright skirts and frivolous blouses. She pinned her hair full of flowers and smelled like flowers, too. Sweet and heady, all roses and freesias. Flirty and teasing, at her das gala farewell shed asked him to dance, and with the knowingest look in her eye.

Sink me, that seems a lifetime ago.

Rafel, she said, dimpling. Is Deenie feeling less poorly? Im sorry Ive not been up to the Tower to see her, but Papa, you know, hehe She faltered, her confidence fading along with her smile. Well. Hes still aguey in his chest, no matter what the pothers do.

He knew that. Da was fretting on Uncle Pellens health, along with everything else. Aside from Mama, Pellen Orrick was the only friend he had left from the bad ole days. With Darran gone and Jed, two winters past and with him hardly speaking to any family he had left on the coast

Me and Mama and Deenie and Pellen. Thats who hes got. Aint so many, when you think on it. And now heres me set on going over the mountains with Goose

He shoved the inconvenient thought aside.

Rafel, said Charis, her fingers still on his arm. Is something amiss? Startled, he looked down at her. No. Course not.

Only with the expedition, and that flapdoddle in the Council meeting, and what happened in Westwailing Her fingers tightened. I know things havent been easy, Rafe. Im sorry for it.

Her warm sympathy took him by surprise. Just as surprising, the comfort he felt in her hand on his arm. He cleared his throat. Couldnt help but think of Das terse warning on the road down south.

That girls my best friends daughter, Rafe. Youll not fuddle with her unless you want real trouble.

He stepped back. Aye, well. Nowt to be done about it, is there? Charis, Ive got to

Of course, she said, blushing. OnlyRafel, would you ask your father to come visit us? Soon? Papa would feel so much better for seeing him. Hes not been by since you got back andwell, Papa worries. Hes so fond of your da.

Ill mention it, he promised. And you give Pellen my best, eh? Ill be seeing you, Charis.

I hope so, she said, with a flash of her usual bold, flirty self. Her fingers waggled a goodbye wave, then she tossed her hair and rejoined her friend. They walked off arm in arm, giggling, and he turned on his heel to get back to the Tower.

Let be to mind his own business at last, with not so many folk wandering this top end of the High Street, he stared at Barls Mountains rising jagged against the clouded sky. Ole Darran used to talk on what they looked like, before the Wall came down. The way the magic softened and blurred their peaks, keeping Lur safe. He used to say how Barls Wall turned the sky gold, and you could see it shimmering on the brightest bright blue day. And how at night it was so beautiful, sometimes he used to look at it and weep.

Staring at the magickless mountains now, he tried to imagine climbing over them. On foot. Had to be on foot. No horses could get up there. It was a daunting prospect.

Step by step, thinking on it, his pace slowed. Daunting as it was or not, he wasnt frighted. He wanted to do this, so bad his insides ached. So bad he could taste it. Freedom. Adventure. The chance to prove himself, alone. Da should understand that better than anyone.

But hes forgotten how he felt when he was twenty. Hes frightedand he wants me to be frighted too.

Da had risked him in Westwailing, but only cause he had to. Didnt want him to risk himself, though. Didnt care what his son wanted. Refused to see things any way but his. Could a man be slumskumbledy? If he could, that man was Da.

If I ask them, Pintte and Baden will take me on their expedition. They might not want me, but knowing me leaving Lur will fret Da, theyll say yes. Besidesmy magics bound to come in handy and they know that, too.

So. His decision was made. He was going. No matter what kind of fuss Da kicked up. Whether he managed to talk his father round, or not, he was going. A pity he couldnt sneak away in the dead of night, like Da had left Restharven all those years ago. Itd be a sight easier.

And I wont feel guilty for going, either.

Except except Da had wept, in Westwailing.

That night, with the township in an uproar, its harbour a wasteland of waterspouts and whirlpools, after hed hunted that bastard Mayor Threeve out of the Dolphin, hed seen the depth of his fathers love. The unlimited reach of his fear, that something might happen to his only son. It was raw. Painful. Almost too private. And hed looked so frail.

Fresh resentment stirred. Love didnt excuse lying. And it could be an anchor, as well as a blessing.

If he really loves me, he wont stand in my way. So Im going. I am.

Except except Da had wept, in Westwailing.

But I cant let Goose go alone. Da could be wrong about whats over the mountains, but what if he aint? If I let Goose go alone and something happened to him? Id never forgive myself. Hes my best friend. Hes like my brother.

Surely Da would understand that. After what happened to King Gar? Hed have to understand.

But if I go, and Da frets on me so much he makes himself sick or worse how do I live with that? If I cross the mountains and come home again a hero, only to find Das perished of fear for me while I was gone?

The thought made him sick. So now he had to choose between his best friend and his father? Between his own freedom, and his fathers life?

How is that fair?

Except except there was no choice.

Goosell understand. Hes got a father, too.

Resentful and resigned, he kept on walking for home.

Hearing the rap-rap of knuckles on his closed library door, Asher looked up. Come in.

The door opened. Rafe. His eyes were wary. Da. You busy? You look busy.

Slowly, carefully, he put down his freshly inked quill, his breathing not quite steady. No. I aint busy. He flicked the papers on the desk in front of him. Just gettin ready for a case in Justice Hall. Youd reckon folk could keep emselves brangle-free for five minutes at a stretch, but they cant. Fools, the lot of em.

Rafe hesitated, then came in and dropped into the chair on the other side of the desk. You been sayin that my whole life, Da. You goin to sit there and tell me you be surprised?

That tugged a small smile out of him. No. Spose I aint. Awkward silence. Rafe rubbed at his nose. It were one of his little habits when he was fratched, or comin to confess a misdeed. You sure youre ready for Justice Hall, Da? You aint too tired still?

Didnt fall off my horse this morning, he said, mildly enough. Reckon I can sit in a chair down Justice Hall. Rafel

Bumped into Charis, down on the High Street, said Rafel, skritching at a dried stain on his trews. Uncle Pellens asking after you, she says. She says why aint you been down to see him since we got back?

Prickled with guilt, he looked out of the library window. The clouds were coming down again. Thered be rain before sunset. Kerril said he aint been spry. Dont want to tire him. It was true. Well, partly true. Pellen would ask him about Rafel, and Westwailing, and he didnt have the strength to talk on it. Not yet. Ill maybe go see him tomorrow. Or the day after.

Rafel nodded. You should. She was fretted. More than Ive ever seen her.

Oh, Pellen. I will. Rafe

Rafel shoved to his feet and wandered over to the window. Stared down into the Towers gravelled forecourt. His face, not quite hidden, was brimful of secrets. Crowded with all the things he hadnt said.

Did you hear? The Councils told Pintte and Baden they can have their expedition.

Aye. The bloody fools. He shook his head. Theyll be sorry.

Rafe flicked a glance sideways. Goose is going with them.

Fright like a fist of iron, crushing his heart. Aye? Well, you aint.

Aint I? said Rafel, and shoved his hands in his pockets. Decided that, have you, Da?

Thats right.

Rafe swung round, scowling. Just like you decided to keep my Doranen magic a secret?

He stood. He had to. This werent a sitting down conversation. Mind your manners, sprat.

You never shouldve kept it a secret, Da, said Rafe, his chin up, his eyes hot. Not from me.

You didnt need to know, Rafe.

Maybe not when I was a sprat, said Rafe, closing half the distance between them. Maybe not then. But now? Im a man now. You shouldve told me.

And I did tell you, didnt I? When it was needful.

For you, Rafe spat at him. Where was his sweet son? But its my magic, Da. You had no right to hide it, just like youve got no right to decide where I go or what I do with my life!

Fright hammered him again. Fernel bloody Pintte and his sinkin expedition. I shouldve let the bastard drown. So you reckon you can just walk out on your family? Is that what you reckon?

You mean like you did, when you were my age? Rafe retorted. Walked out in the middle of the night without even sayin a proper goodbye?

Asher banged his fist on the desk, making the ink pot jump and splash. I left Restharven for the City so I could make money to take care of my da. Thats why I left. Why dyou want to leave? Cause the work facin us here in Lur aint adventurous enough for you? You reckon to make yself some kind of hero, traipsin about in other peoples barren lands?

No! said Rafel, hands clenching. I couldnt care less about being a bloody hero. Reckon Ive heard enough about heroes to last me the rest of my life!

And that were a deliberate, personal stab. Sick with the thought of losing his boy, hurt by the jibe, he shoved out from behind the desk.

You need to pin your ears back, Meister Roughtongue, and lissen close to what I say, he said, jabbing a pointed finger into his sons fancy weskit. Them fools Pintte and Baden got good Olken killed once already. And now they be tryin to get more good men killed goin over them mountains. You got knucklebones in your noggin, Rafe, if you reckon what they be plannin wont end in blood and tears. And if

You dont know that! Rafel shouted, knocking his hand away. Youre just guessing.

Mayhap I am, he retorted. Mayhap I were guessin when I warned em not to fuddle with Dragonteeth Reef, too. But I werent wrong about that, eh?

No, said Rafe tightly. But that doesnt make you right about everything else. And Goose

Oh, aye, Goose, he said, scornful. Call yself his best friend, do you? Well, if thats true youd talk him out of this madness, stead of eggin him on. Did you say youd go with him?

And if I did? said Rafel, his breathing harsh and hard. So what if I did?

Then youd best turn round and tell him you made a mistake. Cause you aint goin with him, Rafe. You aint settin a toe out of this City.

Rafe shook his head. That aint up to you, Da, cause I aint a criminal and this aint Justice Hall. You dont get to lay the law down on me. I can walk out that door and you dont get to say otherwise. If I want to, I can join that expedition and you dont get to say I cant.

No? he said, his voice soft with anger and fear. Best you think again, Rafe. There aint a man or woman goin over them mountains without the Council gives em leave. Now, things might be fratched a bit between me and them just this ticktock, but if you reckon theyll let you go when I say I want you here? Then, sprat, you be a sinkin bloody fool.

Rafes eyes were bright with tears. Youd do that? he whispered, his voice close to breaking. Youd shame me like that before the Council? Before the City?

Shaking, trying to hide it, he nodded. Rafel, Id do a bloody sight more than that to keep you safe. Youre my son.

Aye, said Rafe, stepping back. That I am. Mores the sinkin bloody pity.

The door slammed loudly, finally, behind him.

Adrift on the librarys handwoven rug, Asher listened to his pounding heart. Told himself this were nowt, it were nowt.

Fathers and sons fratch, thats the way things be. Hell get over this. He will. Its for his own good. He knows that. Hell come back to me, by and by.

And all around him, the silence stretched on.

Dathne found her son in the hushed, glimlit stable yard, fussing over his precious Firedragon. Kneeling in the stallions straw, he looked up from rubbing liniment into the horses strained fetlock, pain and anger glowering in his eyes.

If youve come to defend him, Mama, dont. I aint in the mood to hear him defended.

She ran her hand along the top of the stables closed half-door. You know, Rafe, it was both of us decided to tamper with your magic. Both of us who thought it best you didnt know. You cant be angry with your father, and not be angry with me.

Dont worry, Mama, he said, soothing the horse as it flinched. Im angry with you, too.

She mightve smiled, if she hadnt been so close to weeping. Were we wrong, to keep it from you? Really? With you stealing spells from Arlin Garrick? Sneaking into your fathers library and fuddling with private things? Dangerous things? Should we have trusted you with all that power when it turns out we couldnt trust you to do as you were told? To believe us when we said it was so important for you to be careful?

He flushed. I was a sprat, Mama. Every sprat gets up to mischief.

Mischief, yes, she agreed. Dancing leaves and cracking stones, thats mischief. Slopping water in your bath. But Rafel

I know! he said, goaded. I shouldnt have done those other things. I knew they were wrong when I did them, and I did them anyway, and Im sorry. Nowt bad happened, but still. Im sorry.

The chestnut stallion swished its tail, head tossing, not liking raised voices. Rafel soothed the animal again, then reached into his grooming box for a fresh bandage to wrap around its injured leg.

Did you really tell Goose youd go with him over the mountains? she asked. Or was that something you said because youre angry with your fatherand you wanted to hurt him?

Stung, he looked up again. You think Id do that?

I dont know, she said, after a moment. You might. Youve been soso gnarly since Westwailing Harbour.

You saying I aint got the right to be fratched?

Oh, Rafel. She had to blink back tears. Im saying whats done cant be undone. Im saying your father and I love you very, very much, and if weve made mistakes its because we love you, not because we want to hurt you. If its a crime for parents to protect their child, then were guilty, no argument, and you must sentence us as you see fit.

Rafel pinned his stallions bandage in place, then stood. Stroked his hand down the horses long, gleaming neck. Glanced up, frowning, as rain began to drum on the tiled stable roof.

I did tell Goose Id go with him, he said, not looking at her. But on my way home I changed my mind.

Why?

Why dyou think? he said roughly. Cause I knew what me going would do to Da.

She considered him. Five minutes ago, surely, hed been her little boy. Smiles and giggles and kisses at bedtime. Now here he stood before her, a man, with a mans anger and a mans pride. His fathers prideand his courage.

Hes his fathers son. And isnt that the problem?

Not me, Rafe? she said at last. You didnt worry what your leaving would do to me?

Mama Pushing past the horse, he reached for her across the stable door. Of course I dont want to fret you. But youre the strongest person I know. Youre Jervales Heir. And Dawhat happened in Westwailinghes nothes not as strong as he used to be, Mama. He aint been for years. Andand

She framed his dear, sweet face with her hands. Kissed him on both cheeks. Leaned her forehead to his. Smiled as his hands came to rest on her shoulders. I know.

He just fratched me all over again, Rafel muttered. He didnt give me a chance to explain. When I said Goose was going with Pintte and Baden, he jumped on me with both feet. And II

She kissed him again. Its all right, Rafe. I know what hes like.

And now Ive got to go back on my word to Goose. He sounded so young. There were tears in his voice. What kind of a friend does that make me?

Rafe, hell understand. Hed never expect you to choose him over your family. Would you blame him if he had to put his father ahead of you?

Turning away, he smeared his sleeve over his face. No. Course I wouldnt.

Well, then.

Its just His face twisted. Im scared for him, Mama. This expedition

I know. She managed a small smile, for his sake. Well just have to say our prayers hard, wont we, that your fathers wrong for once. Now, are you coming in? Its nigh on supper and you know how I hate it when youre late to the table.

That provoked a snort of amusement. Ill be in soon, I promise.

Ill hold you to that, she said. And Rafe She had to wait a moment. Make peace with your father.

He sighed. Mama

Please, Rafel. For me?

I will, he said eventually. For you. But in my own timeand in my own way.

She wanted more, but couldnt ask for it. Some of this was Ashers fault, after all. And hers. So she smiled at her son, and blew him a final kiss, and left him to fuss with his precious stallion.

Most all of Dorana City and half the rest of Lur, it seemed, turned out to farewell Fernel Pintte and Sarle Badens expedition. Dathne took Deenie and Charis to stand with her on the steps of Justice Hall, a goodly vantage point to see Barlsman Jaffee and a whole flock of lesser clerics bless the expedition members who were set to gather in the Market Square before riding off towards the Black Woods, and the mountains. Rafel was out there somewhere too, on his lonesome. Saying a private goodbye to his best friend Goose.

Asher kept company with Pellen, ailing in his feather bed. It was his second visit since coming home from the coast. During the first, his friend had taken poorly again and hed gone home so frighted it was hard to eat or sleep. Whatever Kerril had done in the meantime, it seemed to have helped.

For now.

I suppose, said Pellen, his face sallow and deeply lined, his voice pale and breathless, the Council couldve chosen worse than Rubin Stott to take over from Pintte as mayor. Pour me some water, would you?

Asher half filled a glass from the pitcher on the bedside table, and watched as Pellen tried not to spill it, drinking. Seein as how you hired on Stott to be your deputy, reckon you aint wrong. He took the emptied glass back, pretending not to notice the tremor in Pellens fingers. And seein as how they had to nigh twist his arm off at the elbow afore hed do it, Id say they chose right. Any man as wants power be ezackly the wrong man to have it.

Agreed, said Pellen, then coughed tearingly into his kerchief. When he took the linen away from his lips, Asher saw fresh blood on it. Couldnt quite hide his horror, or dismay.

Pellen

Now, now, said Pellen, gently chiding. You can put away that long face. Kerrils potions keep me brisk enough.

Aye, but can they cure you?

No, Pellen said at last, staring at the bloodstained linen. No, Im sorry to say they cant do that.

He had to clear his throat. You told Charis?

No. Not yet, Pellen admitted. Cowardly of me but in this, Ill gladly cling to cowardice. You and Dathneyoull stand for her, once Im gone?

Dont ask stupid questions, he snapped. Anger kept the grief at bay. Course we bloody will.

Forgive me, said Pellen. I get anxious. Shes a clever lass, but young to be left alone in these uncertain times.

Uncertain times. Aye, well, that were one way of puttin it. Mself, Id call em bloody awful.

Pellen was staring at him closely, his dark eyes clouded a little and sunk deeply in their sockets, purplish shadows beneath them. He looked a mortal sick man. Surely Charis had guessed. Which meant father and daughter were keepin secrets from each other. But if that got em through each painful day, who was he to look sideways? Turned out that as a da, he werent no sinkin great shakes.

This isnt your fault, you know, Asher, Pellen said quietly. No more than Westwailing was. You did your best to stop Pintte and the others. If they choose to ignore you, the blame belongs to them. Theres not a man alive or dead whos fought harder for this kingdom. You mustnt reproach yourself.

Pellen were a good friend, trying to make him feel better, but nothing could do that. Dread was in him, hollowing his heart.

His good friends thin face turned brooding. You still think the expedition is doomed?

Dont matter a flys fart what I think, Pellen, he said, shrugging. Aint nobody interested in what I got to say.

Asher Pellen shifted against his pillows. He still wont speak to you?

Rafel. A week since their fight, and his son was yet to say a kind word to him. It wasnt just Goose, of course. It were Westwailing and his magic, too. Everything between them a tangled, gnarly mess.

He shook his head. No.

Im sorry, said Pellen. Children. How empty our lives would be without them and how much less painful.

Pellens easy sympathy made his eyes burn. I dont care, he said, knowing it was a lie, knowing Pellen knew it too. He can hate me till the day he dies, so long as he lives long enough to die an ole man. I couldnt let him go, Pellen. It be true I cant prove the expeditions headin for disaster, but His clenched fist struck his chest, which hurt with every breath. I feel it. In my bloody bones, I feel it. So how could I let him go? If I gave in if I said him likin me were more important than him livin? Be faster and kinder to cut his throat mself.

He heard his voice break, and was shamed. He had no business weighin Pellen down with his troubles. His friend were dyin; he didnt need more strife in his dish.

Asher, said Pellen, and reached out his hand. Dont. Rafels angry, I know, but anger doesnt last forever.

He looked at the thin fingers resting on his arm. Not for some folk, mayhap. But my family? We aint of the mood as forgives and forgets. Look at Zeth. Hates me as much today as he did the day our da died. As he did the day our ma died. The day she bloody birthed me, cause he didnt reckon they needed another mouth to feed.

Pellen snorted. Rafel is not your misery-loving brother. Hes your son and he loves you.

Hes a man, Pellen, he said bleakly. And Im treatin him like a sprat. That Gooseif somethin happens to him when somethin happens to him Grief threatened to break him again, and he had to stop a moment to blink, and breathe hard. I had words with Gooses da, yknow. Tried to talk him into stoppin his son from throwin his life away on Pinttes say-so. But he wouldnt listen, the bloody fool.

And what does Dathne say?

Not a lot, he said. But she cries when she thinks I be sleepin, and cant hear her.

Pellens thin fingers on his arm tightened. Give it more time. Rafell come round.

Not if Goose dies, he wont. Not if Goose dies, and he reckons he couldve saved him if hed been there. Groaning, he pressed one hand across his eyes. I may be youngern you, Pellen, but I aint young no more. And I got hurts inside me from that bloody Weather Magic. Wounds as aint never healed goin back twenty years. He let his hand fall and looked at his friend, for once not trying to hide a thing. Im tired. And this fight with Rafeit be wearin me down.

I can speak to him, said Pellen. Would it help if I speak to him?

Touched, and shamed again, Asher shook his head. He wouldnt pay you no mind, Pellen. Youre my friend. Makes you bad as me, right now. Leastways that be how hell see it.

Most likely, said Pellen, sighing again, and took back his hand. It was just a thought. Then he frowned. These hurts, Asher. Thesethese unhealed wounds. Should I be worried? Does Dathne know? What have you done about them?

Shame was burned away by anger for letting despair loosen his tongue. Never you mind about that. It aint nowt. Forget I said a bloody word.

Too late, said Pellen. You cant pour spilt beer back in the jug. That business with the Weather map. Trying to fix what was wrong with Lur, last time. Thats what did the real damage, isnt it? And then with what happened in Westwailing, you made things worse. Thats what youre paying for now. Am I right?

He stared at his knees, hating himself. Not answering.

Asher! said Pellen sharply. Am I right?

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Asher sighed. And if you are? Like you say, Pellenaint no pourin spilt ale back in the jug.

How bad is it?

There were aches and pains in him now, gnawing at his tired bones. Aches and pains Kerrils strongest potions couldnt dull. Bad enough.

Well, if a stubborn frog like you is admitting it, said Pellen, trying to make a joke. But it werent funny, and he knew it. None of this were funny. Im sorry, Asher. For all of it.

Dont know what you be apologisin for, he said, struggling to stay on an even keel.

Someone has to, said Pellen. And since Fernel bloody Pintte wont He shrugged, then his gaze sharpened, and he was suddenly Captain Orrick of the City Guard again. AsherI hope youre not thinking to do anything foolish.

Course I aint.

But Pellen didnt believe him. Working that Weather map nearly killed you ten years ago. It nearly killed Dathne, to see you so hurt. Would you do that to her a second time?

He stared at Pellen, derisive. You sayin that when you was our doughty Guard Captain, and some fool of an Olken took a swing at you, you never set foot in a brawl again after?

Thats different! Pellen retorted. Your Weather Magics lethal, Asher.

And a brawlers knife aint? he said, pushing out of his chair. Pellen, leave be. I aint sure what Im goin to do. Justdont you make it any harder on me, eh? Lyin there all poorly and pathetic. Tryin to use my sympathy agin me.

All right, said Pellen, grudging. But dont you expect me not to speak my mind.

Fetched up at the open chamber window, looking out across the Citys rooftops towards Market Square, he shook his head. I dont. Known you too bloody long for that.

Fleeting sunshine was warm on his face, the light breeze scented with blossoms from window-boxes, and tinged pungent by pigeon dung. Bloody birds nested in every nook and cranny of a house. Staring further across the rooftops he could see the distant tiles of Justice Hall, and a narrow strip of stained glass: Dorana Citys Barlschapel. The bits of street and laneway he could see were empty. Nobody scurrying on urgent business, or lazily strolling to admire shop window displays. Anyone not bedridden was down to the Square or lining the main street leading to the City gates, squashed belly to arse sos they could say to anyone whod listen after, I was there to see the expedition ride out.

It were just like last time, when Tollin and his foolhardy friends got emselves blessed by Holze. The breeze strengthened and he caught a hint of voices raised in joyful acclaim, as folk lied to emselves as how their troubles would soon be over.

Laughter when they leave and weepin when they come back. How is it folk got such short bloody memories?

Asher

He turned. Barl save him, Pellen looked bad. It aint fair. Why do all my friends die? Aye?

Have you thought you could be wrong about things? said Pellen, almost hesitant. Weve had more settled weather, these past days. I hear the floodings eased. The tremors have stopped. Maybe maybe what happened before was a false alarm.

Pellen He shook his head. How much did it hurt him, to dash his friends frail hopes? No. I wish it were, but it aint. What happened before were Lur clearin its throat. Now the kingdoms just holdin its breath. Bidin its time.

Why do you say that?

Asher closed his eyes. Ignored Pellens dismay, and the pain in his bones, let the mage in him sink deep and felt the drips and dregs of the magic hed poured into Lurs earth. So little left now. So much heart-ache to come.

Cause its true, he murmured. Cause I can feel it. He opened his eyes. And Ill bet Fernel bloody Pintte can feel it too. Probly it be why hes so keen on rushin off over them mountains. He knows whats comin and he dont want to be here.

Well, if youre rightwhatever comes, Lur will survive it, said Pellen, his eyes feverish. We survived before there was Weather Magic. We survived the coming of the Doranen and the fall of Barls Wall. Whatever happens, Lur will survive it too. If I believe nothing else, I believe that.

Wish I did. But he didnt say so out loud. Mayhap Pellen really did believe it, and werent just tryin to cheer him up. Spoilin things for him wouldnt be very kind.

Asher, said Pellen, still sharp. I want you to promise me something.

Wary now, he shoved his hands in his pockets. What?

Promise me youll not do anything foolish on your own. That for once in your stubborn life youll seek advice from those who care for you before you do something that cant be undone.

Pellen meant well, but he didnt understand. How could he? He werent a mage. He couldnt feel the earth, he only walked on top of it.

Im wasting my breath, arent I? said Pellen, disappointed, falling back against his pillows. Youll do what you think is right, no matter what I or Dathne or anyone else might say.

Im sorry, Pellen.

Dont be. Youre the Innocent Mage. Its not my place to

Not your place? he demanded. When its you who got Gar and Matt and Darran out of the City, away from Morg? The only reason we beat the bastard is cause of you. Breathing hard, he dragged a hand down his face. Not your place? Sink me, Pellen, you dare say that againandIllIll

Youll what? said Pellen, smiling. There was an ominous rattle in his chest. Slap the dying man whos trying to save you?

And what could he say to that? Nowt. But even if hed had the words, tears were too close.

Forget I asked it, said Pellen. And promise me this, instead.

With a terrible effort, he made himself smile. Sink me twice. What now?

Leaning over, Pellen tugged open the drawer in his bedside table and pulled out a battered, dog-eared pack of playing cards. Dont summon a horselir to eat me when I thrash you at zephyr.

Pellen, Pellen. You be breakin my bloody heart. Fine. I wont summon a horselir, he said, and returned to the chair by the bed. But I aint about to promise I wont make it snow down your nightshirtif you beat me. Taking the cards, he began a swift shuffle. Cept you wont. So I reckon you be safe from snowfalls, for now.

Goose.

Amid the hustle and bustle of the expeditions final preparations, now that Barlsman Jaffee had said his prayers over them, Goose was taking a quiet moment, it seemed, to gather his thoughts. Was sat on an upturned bucket outside his horses stable round the back of Justice Hall, where Pintte and Badens collected group of adventurers milled and argued and jostled.

Goose, Rafel said again, when his friend didnt look up. Have you got a spare ticktock?

Theyd spoken once since that afternoon of ale-brewing, when hed told his friend hed travel with him over the mountains. Just once hed seen Goose, to break his promised word.

Goose lifted his head. Rafe.

They stared at each other, silent, as around them Fernel Pintte and Sarle Baden and the other eight as were leaving, four Olken and four Doranen, fetched bridles and saddles, double-checked saddlebags and backpacks. Rafel spared them a glance, and didnt recognise one of them. Then he shoved his hands in his pockets. There were too many folk here, with big ears and flapping lips.

Walk with me a little ways? Have you got time?

Goose shrugged. A minute or so. Cant walk far in a minute.

We can walk far enough, he said, and nodded to the tree-shadowed pathway leading to the lane that ran behind the Hall. If you want to.

Goose looked to where Fernel Pintte was in conversation with Sarle Baden. Not friends, those two, but joined in common cause. No more Doranen in Lur. Meister Mayor!

Pintte turned. When he saw whod come visiting, his face collapsed in a scowl. What?

Need to take a moment, said Goose. I wont go far. Wont be long.

And we wont wait for you if thats not the case, Pintte retorted. Rafel

Rafel held up his hands. Aint come to cause trouble, Meister Mayor. Just need a word with Goose, here, before you go.

Fernel Pintte turned his back. So probly that meant he and Goose had their moment.

Goose seemed to think so, cause he pushed himself off the bucket and threaded his way through the chaos towards the pathway. Guts twisting, Rafel followed. Joined him in the dappling shadows, his mouth crowded with words.

Rafe, I aint mad at you, Goose said, patient. Not smiling. Ive told you that once already. So if youre here to say sorry, save your breath. To be honest, I never really thought youd come. I never thought your father would let you.

And that burned. Let me?

Goose rested a hand on his shoulder. Tightened his fingers and shook him, just a bit. Rafe, I swearsometimes youre thicker than a brick wall. He nearly got you killed in Westwailing. Did you truly think hed let you out of his sight so soon after? Trust you to Fernel Pintte and Sarle Baden, when he blames them for what happened there? Dont be daft. Even if he wasnt stone-blind certain the expeditions going to go bad, hed not risk you. And he is certain, isnt he?

Gooses kind forbearance was worse than anger. They were the same ageyet oddly, his friend seemed older, of a sudden. And he felt younger. Like the little brother being left behind.

It doesnt make him right.

Thats not the point, Rafe, said Goose, and let his hand drop. The point is he thinks hes right. And your fathers the most stubborn Olken in history. Did you know he came to see my dad? Tried to browbeat him into making me stay home?

He stared at his friend, horrified. Goose, I didnt know, I swear. I didnt ask him. Ive hardly said a word to him since He chewed at his lip. Goose, Im sorry.

Never mind. It doesnt matter, said Goose, frowning. Rafe, dont you be a fool. Dont you let this come between you and him. Once weve got the way cleared over the mountains, once weve made friends with whoever we find on the other side, therell be other expeditions. You and me can go next time.

He nearly said, If there is a next time. But that would sound mean, like he didnt believe hed see Goose again. And the last thing he wanted was to make his friend think he thought that. Only

Maybe so, but this first expeditionll likely be dangerous, Goose. It aint right youre going alone.

Alone? Goose nodded at the increased bustle in Justice Halls rear courtyard. With that lot?

Goose

Goose heaved a deep sigh. You know what your trouble is, Rafe? Ill tell you. You think just cause youve got a dash of Doranen magic in you that youre a bit better than everyone else.

That made him blink. What?

And you think I cant look after myself, said Goose, eyebrows lifted, challenging. You think that if youre not around to save me, Im as good as dead already. He smiled, friendly but pointed. Thats a mite insulting, yknow.

What?

Kindly meant, Goose added. But still insulting. You keep saying as how youre not a sprat any more. Well, that makes two of us, Rafe. I dont need a nursemaid and I dont need you to save me. Wanted your company, mind. This expedition wont be the same without you. But like I said. Theres always the next one.

Shaken silent, Rafel stared at him. Had Goose lost his mind? Or had he spent so much time with Fernel Pintte and Sarle Baden that hed got himself infected by their blind arrogance? Was this how Da felt, faced with a whole Council chamber full of men and women like Goose, whod let themselves be hoodwinked and bamboozled by hope and fear?

He swallowed. I dont think Im better than you, Goose. But I do know Im different. And the ways Im different? I know they save lives. Youre my best friend, you sinkin fool. I dont want nowt to happen to you!

It wont, said Goose. Then he pulled a face. Or if it does, theres nowt to say you could stop it. Besides, someones got to go. Lurs a boiling pot with the lid stuck on tight. Weve got to get the lid off. Or therell be brawling and worse between us and the Doranen and when it comes to worse we both know wholl win.

How could he fratch with that? Every word Goose spoke was true. But even so even so

Sink me sideways, Goose, he said, and pulled his friend into a rib-cracking embrace. You better come back safe and sound.

I will, said Goose, pounding him between the shoulder blades. Im coming back safe and sound just so I can say I told you so.

In the courtyard behind them, the sounds of horses clopping out of their stables. Meister Martin! shouted Fernel Pintte. If youre coming with us, nows the time! Or stay behind and stuff your belly with regrets.

Goose let go, and stepped back. You talk to your father, Rafe. Youve only got one. And hes only got you. Well, Deenie too, but thats not the same. A mans son is his son.

Aye, he said, unwilling to trust his voice further.

Talk to him, Goose insisted. Or Ill kick your arse black and blue when I come back.

Looks like youll be busy then. Saying I told you so. Kicking my arse.

Goose grinned, a flash of his old self. Ill manage.

The bustle behind them was growing. They were out of timeout of timeGoose, he said, on impulse. About Deenie

And Goose blushed. I know. I was going to say something and then He glanced away. Tell her to wait for me, Rafe? Tell her

Meister Martin! shouted Pintte. Last warning!

Coming, Meister Mayor! Goose called back. Then he shrugged. Sorry, Rafe. Ive got to

I know, he said, and stepped out of the way. Go.

A crowd of family and friends had gathered to bid the expedition a private goodbye, before it got swamped and swallowed by the hundreds of gawkers lining the streets from the Square to the City gates. Olken and Doranen, they wept and hugged and exchanged fervent farewells. Gooses da near picked his son up off the ground, holding on to him.

Standing in the shadows, Rafel watched as one by one the men hand-picked by Fernel Pintte and Sarle Baden extricated themselves from their well-wishers, climbed onto their horses and fell into orderly line. Sarle Baden first, then Fernel Pintte, then the other Doranen, then the Olken. Goose last. He was the youngest man by far. Of course theyd stick him on the end.

As Baden nudged his horse forward, leading the group out to the Square, Goose turned in his saddle. Smiled. Nodded. Rafel nodded back, a crushing pain in his chest. Then a wave of dread, of sick foreboding, washed over him. Threatened to suck him down to darkness like the whirlpool in Westwailing Harbour. And he knew he knew

This is going to end badly. I wont see Goose again.

Heartsick, he spun round, searching the jostling well-wishers, looking to find Gooses da and make him go after his son, drag him off his horse and keep him safe at home. But Gooses da was swept up in the tide of clamouring families and the tide was pulling out, it was pouring after the expedition. The tail of Gooses skinny bay gelding disappeared through the archway, the sight of its rump swamped by heads and backs and waving arms.

Rafel tried to shout, but his voice was lost in everyone elses shouting. And then a huge roar went up from the crowd of Olken and Doranen in the Square. They mustve caught their first look at mounted Fernel Pintte and Sarle Baden and the rest, so jaunty and dauntless, ready to ride to the City gates. Ride to the Black Woods. Climb over Barls Mountains and horribly die.

Goose. Goose, dont go. Come back.

As the last well-wishing stragglers scurried to catch up, the Justice Hall grooms, pressed into service, went to fetch shovels and stable-forks so they could put the place to rights. But after the very last ignorant family member had passed through the archway, still one person remained.

It was Da.

You talk to your father, Rafe, Goose said. Youve only got one. And hes only got you.

The bright sunlight showed him Das weary, careworn face. Showed him threads of grey hair. Showed him slumped shoulders and grieving eyes. Some of the awfulness that had swamped him faded. He stepped out of the shadows and walked to join him.

Whereve you been, then? he said, struggling to sound careless. As though theyd not been silently raging for days and days. You missed all the speechifying.

Da nodded. Borin, was it?

Course it was. I near bloody nodded off.

A tiny, tiny tug of smile. Where be your ma, and Deenie?

Aint sure, he said. I left them on the Chapel steps, being yapped at by Barlsman Jaffee. Charis was with them. Somehow, he managed a swift grin. Three women together? Like as not theyve gone shopping. Youll get back to the Tower tonight to find the treasury box empty.

Like as not, Da agreed. I were sittin with Pellen a bit. Let him beat me at cards.

Rafel snorted. You let the Citys best zephyr player beat you? Right, Da. Course you did.

Aye, well, said Da. He aint feelin too spry these days, is Pellen. Got to cheer him up somehow. He flicked a glance at the dawdling Justice Hall stable hands, who had no reason to rush about their work. I aint in the mood for watchin Pintte and them fools ride out the front gates. Walk back to the Tower with me.

Just like that, eh? Typical bloody Da. And what about Goose? That was his best friend heading off with Fernel Pintte. What if he wanted to wave him goodbye?

Cept I dont. Not again.

Goose aint a fool, yknow, he said, feeling his simmering temper rise. Hes trying to help Lur.

I know, said Da. Aint his fault hes been steered wrong, by his da and others. He be a good lad, Rafe. Im sorry.

Aye, but sorry for what? For treating me like a sprat? For making sure I couldnt go with him? For knowing I aint going to see him again? He didnt dare ask, just in case

Right.

Come on, then, said Da, and started walking. Rafel stared after him for a moment, uncertain whether to go on being fratchedor to plump for feeling resigned. After a brief skirmish, he settled on resigned; hed been fratched at Da for weeks now, and all he felt was miserable.

And I did promise Mama Id make my peace.

They eased along alleys and through laneways, so the gawkers traipsing Doranas streets wouldnt know they were there. Halfway back to the Tower the crowd dribbled away and they risked the straight way home, up the High Street to the gates of the palace.

Da didnt say another word until they were safely in the palace grounds, surrounded by flowers and trees, well away from prying eyes and eager ears. Then he sighed, and seemed to relax a bit. Slowed his determined march to a stroll, breathing just a mite too heavy. What Rafel could see of his face was sweaty, and gloomed with dark thoughts.

Reckon I need to tell you somethin, Rafe, he said. But afore I do, you got to promise me you wont say nowt on it. Not to your ma, not to Deenie. Not to anyone. You promise?

They might be talking now, but he still felt inclined to snap. Whove I got to tell, Da? You warned me off Charis and Goose is riding out of the City andand he aint coming back.

Slowed almost to stopping, Da swung round. Why dyou say that?

Why? Instead of slowing, he stopped altogether. Fisted his hands on his hips and stared at his father, incredulous. Why dyou bloody think? Cause Im a mage just like you, Da, and I feel things. Why dyou bloody think I was so set on travelling with him? Why dyou think I never wanted him out of my sight?

And why dyou think, Da retorted, his voice husky, unsteady, I made bloody sure you stayed put?

So much for making his peace. Goose. He couldnt answer. Could barely breathe. Rage was a red mist smearing his vision.

Rafel, said Da, and took him hard by both shoulders. You think I dont know how you feel, sprat? I know. I spoke the words that killed my best friend.

Then how could you stop me? he said, his voice cracking. When you know Goose needs me, Da, how could you keep me here?

Cause I need you more! said Da, shaking him. I need you with me, Rafe, cause what I dont know is if I can stop whats comin. Not without you. Just like I couldnt save them fools in Westwailin without you. I be too hurt and worn out to do this alone. And there aint another mage in all Lur I can ask.

Ask to do what, Da? he said, retreating. Whats coming to Lur? Letting go, Da stared at him, so intent. You aint felt it?

No. Da, I dont know what youre talking about.

Thought you mightve felt it, Da muttered. And not said nowt cause you and me aint been talkin. What about Deenie? Has she felt it, and not told me or your ma?

Felt what, Da? What are you And then his throat closed. His heart, already thumping, thumped harder. Rattled his ribs. Are you saying its starting again? Like before? The storms? The tremors?

Worse than before, Rafe, said Da. Much worse.

How do you know? Have you felt something?

No, said Da, after a moment. Not yet. But its comin, Rafe. Trust me.

He didnt want to hear this. You could be wrong, Da. Things were bad ten years ago, werent they? And then they got better. I think theyre getting better again, right now. Its stopped raining andwhat? What?

Da was shaking his head. Almost laughing, but his eyes were terrible. Sink me, Rafe. The only reason Lur didnt rip itself to bits ten years ago is cause I nigh on killed mself, holdin it together.

You held it Suddenly cold, even in the unclouded sunshine, Rafel stared back at his father. Remembered something his mother had said, about the sacrifices Da had made. He felt small, a boy again. Looking to his father to make everything all right. But from the look on Das face How? The truth, Da. No more bloody secrets.

Come on, said Da, grabbing his shirt-sleeve. Reckon its easier to show you than tell you.

They went to the Weather Chamber.

Awestruck, silent, Rafel stared around the sunlit room. Hed never set foot in this place. Hed wanted to, often enough. Hed even dreamed of sneaking in, with Goose, back when they were sprats. But something always stopped him. Some instinct, some deep, nameless feeling, that to come here without Da, to come here uninvited, would be to cross a line one he could never cross back over.

Da was looking at him, almostalmost anxious. You feel it, dont you? You can feel what were done here for six hundred bloody years. Even though the Weather Magic aint burned into your bones.

The air in the glass-domed chamber was cool and dry, and it thrummed against his bare skin like a drumbeat in the distance. Echoes of power. Echoes of pain. Echoes of voices, screaming in the night.

Yes, he said softly. I can feel it.

Ha, said Da, briefly pleased. Knew you would, sprat. Then he nodded, scowling. And thats the Weather map. Sinkin bloody thing.

Moving closer, he stared at the map, marvelling. He didnt know much about itDa never said, nor Mama. Darran had never seen it, but hed known a few stories and told them once or twice. Hed called it beautiful, and he was right. A pity about the scattered patches of blight marring its intricate details.

Touch it, said Da.

Startled, he looked up. Me? But

Touch it, Da insisted. Then tell me what you feel.

Hesitant, he reached out one finger to the mapthen snatched his hand back, gagging, and scrubbed it over his mouth as though hed just bitten into something rotten. The map felt like Westwailing, like the magics spat out by the whirlpools and the waterspouts and Dragonteeth Reef. Diseased. Rancid. Bloated black, like a corpse.

Morg.

Da was nodding. Aye, Morgs in there, the bastard. But dyou feel anythin else?

I dont know, he said, his belly churning. He wanted to retch.

Touch it again, sprat, said Da. For as long as you can stand.

That was the last thing he wanted to do, but it was Da asking, so

I dont know, he said again, when his guts finally stopped heaving. At first I thought it was dead, but

But you aint sure? Da said, watching him closely. You reckon you might feel a tiny spark of somethin, buried under the blight?

I think so. Then he shrugged. Or could be Im just imagining it. Sighing, Da came to stand beside him. Pressed his palm flat to the map. His tired face tightened with revulsion. You aint, he said at last, through gritted teeth. There be a spark of power there. Almost burned out now. You be good all right, sprat, if you can feel it.

The compliment warmed him. The look in Das eyes killed that warmth. What does it mean? I thought all Lurs Weather Magic was long gone. I thought it died with Morg, when the Wall came down.

Da sighed again. That be what we told folk, Rafe. Me and Pellen and your ma. We thought it were safest that way, see? We thought the worst were behind us, and Lur were free of Doranen meddling. We thought.

Chilled, he stared at the map. You were wrong?

Aye, sprat, said Da, sounding so sad. We were wrong.

And with a whispered word, and a tracery of burning sigils, Da made snow fall beneath the chambers glass-domed roof.

The stunned delight in Rafels face as he watched the snow fall made the pain of calling it not matter. Made it hardly hurt at all. Asher felt the trickling blood on his lips, tasted it on his tongue, and didnt care. Rafe were smiling. They were talking again.

Whatever else comes, at least we got that much.

Da, itsitsI want to do that, said Rafe, his voice hushed, fingers reaching to touch the tiny, drifting white flakes. Show me how to do that.

Simple pleasure died. Shaking his head, he banished the snow. Cant, sprat.

Hurt, Rafel stared at him, snowflakes melting in the palm of his hand. Why not?

The Weather Magics lost. It be long dead and gone.

But you just said

As good as, he added. Whats left of it be in me. And when I die, itll be dead for good.

But that means it aint dead now, Rafe argued. So you could teach me. Da

Closing his eyes, Asher took a deep breath. Sorry, sprat. Sorry. But I wont curse you with this. Weather Magic cant be learned like other Doranen magic, Rafe. I be the last WeatherWorker of Lur.

Disappointed, Rafe hunched his shoulders. Then why did you bring me here?

Cause I got to break a promise to your ma, and I dont want to do it alone.

Da Rafe stamped about a bit, just like he used to when he were a sprat, and thwarted. Stop turning everything into a bloody riddle, would you? Just tell me what were doing here, simple and straight out, or Im leaving.

He had to smile, even though he were sick with nerves. With the echoes of pain. Sink me, you got a mouth on you.

Sink me, Rafe retorted. Look, Da! Im walking to the door

He stepped in front of his son. Pressed one palm flat to Rafes chest. No, you aint.

Da Rafe turned away. No more games. It aint been a good day and He turned back again. Please. No more games.

The pain in his son, for Goose, were like a knife stuck in his own heart. Forgive me, sprat. I wouldve spared you if I could. Rafe, the last time things went bad in Lur, I came up here and I put em to rights by pourin more Weather Magic into that bloody map.

Rafels mouth fell open. You what? Buthow?

So he explained. Told his son the truth of what had happened when he were a boy of ten, holding nowt back.

So you werent bedridden with an ague those weeks, Rafe said, when the tale was told. When me and Deenie were sent off with Uncle Pellen and Charis for that jaunt down to the Dingles.

He shook his head. No, that were a taradiddle. Like I told youI nigh on killed mself fuddlin with the Weather map. Your ma He winced, remembering. She aint never been so fratched at me her whole life. But I didnt have a choice, Rafe. Just like I aint got a choice now.

Swallowing, Rafel looked at the Weather map. You want to do it again?

No, I dont bloody want to! he snapped. But if I dontwell see the end of Lur. A lot of folksll die. And if Pinttes expedition does make it back home across them mountains, what theyll find He grimaced. Rafe, I got to do it.

Da Rafel stamped about a bit more. Theres got to be something else we can do. You said it yourselfyoure not strong enough for this.

Admitting it hurt, but his pride werent something Lur could afford just now. I know, Rafe. That be why I need you.

Rafe stopped his stamping. Da, you promised Mama. If you do this, she wont forgive you.

Rafe He gave his son a weary smile. One of these days Ill sit you down and Ill tell you some of the things your ma and me have forgiven each other. Shell be fratched, I dont deny it but shell get over it. Aint nobody knows Lur comes first better than your ma.

Folding his arms tight, Rafe started pacing again. I still say you could be wrong. If what you say is true, Deenie wouldve felt something. You know what shes like. Shed be in tears all over the place or waking us all up with nightmares. So I reckon

Then youd reckon wrong, sprat, he said quietly. Cause for one thing, last time this happened I started feelin things were goin wrong long afore anyone else. And for another, I be the WeatherWorker.

Which means what, Da? said Rafe, challenging. You want me to help you, then I want to know. His eyes narrowed. No more secrets, remember? After Westwailing you owe me that much.

You owe me. The sprat was so angry. No matter how he explained why he and Dath had tampered with him, Rafe might never understand. But right now there werent time for explanations. Explanations would have to wait.

A sudden, clutching fear. Rafe, you aint been trying anything, have you? You aint snuck off to

To what, Da? Play? Rafes fingers curled to fists. And if I have?

Rafe

Dont worry, Da. I know better. I know whats inside me is bloody dangerous.

Sick with relief, he nodded. Well work this out, sprat. I promise. When Lurs sorted, well work this out.

Rafe nodded. We surely will, Da.

Right. Well. About bein WeatherWorker. It means I feel things different. Good as you are, Rafe, you cant feel everythin. And what I feel He didnt try to hide his shiver. Rafe, once things have gone from bad to worse, Im feared theyll bring Lur to an end. Not just the land, sprat, but the people with it. Im feared whats comin will set us at each others throats.

But Da, were peaceful, said Rafe, shaking his head. We always have been. I dont believe wed

Rafe, think, he said, desperate. We only be peaceful cause there aint nowt to fight on. But with the reefs magic havin wrecked every harbour, and no more fishin, and crops that aint yieldin what we need em to yielddyou reckon well survive another calamity with the weather? More floods, more sick, drowned stock, more folk washed out of their homes? Dyou reckon there wont be hunger and panic and folk branglin in the streets? Dyou reckon the Doranen wont start thinkin on how life werent this complicated when they were in charge?

Rafe looked at him, uncertain. Butwe got laws, Da. They wouldntthey couldnt

Course they would. Course they could. Laws only protect folk when everyone abides by em. But if them as be stronger wakes up one mornin and decides they dont fancy followin them laws no morewhats to stop em from doin whatever they bloody like?

It broke his heart, stripping Rafel of his belief that life were safe and always would be. I fought Morg so this wouldnt happen again. Gar died so none of us would be frighted again. So were the fightin and the dyin for nowt, in the end? Were that the harsh lesson Lur was bein taught?

Da Rafe folded his arms, his jaw stubbornly clenched. Say I agree with you. Say things are set to turn as bad as you think. That doesnt mean you should risk your life again. At leastnot before you have to. Not before its clear there really aint no other choice.

Rafel, I told you

No! Rafe said, and started his pacing. You can wait a bit longer, Da. At least till Deenie feels something too. I heard everything you said, I did, butbut could be you cant exactly trust what you feel. I mean, youre fretted about Uncle Pellen, and you aint over what happened down in Westwailing, and maybe doing this right now, Da, maybe it aint such a good idea.

Oh, Rafe. And maybe, he said, if I can get some more power into that bloody Weather map, and stop the weather failin on us, therell be time for you to ride after Goose and tell him he dont need to go over them mountains. His da told me all about it, Rafe, how the brewers be worried for their oats and their barley and their bloody hops. So if I fix things here

Shocked, Rafe stopped his pacing. Da

I know you be scared hes goin to die somewhere out there, he said. So if I wont let you go with himand Rafe, I never willthen I reckon I ought to try my best to keep him out of mischief.

Tears filled his sons eyes. But Da what if you die?

I wont, he said. Not with you here. Cause that be your job, eh? Keepin an eye on me. Makin sure I dont die.

Thats my job? said Rafe, incredulous. When I dont know the first bloody thing about Weather Magic? Da

He shrugged. You might not have the Weather Magic but you got the potential for it. You can feel it in the map. And there be all that power in you, that I might need to borrow again. He tried to smile. If you dont mind.

Mind? Da, dont be bloody stupid. Rafe took a deep breath. Blew it out, hard. So, what do I do? What do you do? How does it work, you putting power into that map?

I dont rightly know, he admitted. Just it be part of the Weather Magic. Part of me. All you got to do is not let me go too far. Stop me afore I pour all of mself into the bloody thing. Cause itll suck me dry if I aint careful.

This is mad, Rafe muttered, and half-turned away. Da

He took one step towards his son, and stopped. You can do this, Rafe. You can. I got faith in you.

Slowly, very slowly, Rafe turned back. Have you?

The doubt in his sons eyes was a punishment. Do I deserve it? Probly. Hidin your magic werent never about trustin you. I only did it to keep you safe.

Rafe nodded. I know.

But you be fratched anyway, he said. And you dont forgive me. A glitter in Rafes eyes. Say you were wrong, Da.

But I werent. I was wrong.

Say youre sorry.

I aint sorry, and I never bloody will be. Im sorry, Rafel.

Silence in the chamber. In the dome-filtered sunshine, Barls Weather map gleamed, slowly dying.

All right, said Rafe. But youre telling Mama this was all your idea.

He tousled his sons short hair, in passing. You drive a hard bloody bargain, sprat. Now lets get ourselves settled, eh? And well do what we can do to save this sorry bloody kingdom, afore its too late.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Pass me the tea caddy, Deenie? said Charis, as she swished freshly boiled water in the pot to warm it.

Deenie took the caddy down from its shelf above Chariss kitchen bench, prised off its lid, made sure the scoop was in there, then handed it over.

Thanks, said Charis, with a half-hearted smile.

Watching her toss careless scoops of loose dried peppermint leaves into the teapot, feeling her friends strictly concealed upset, she blinked back tears. Mama might not be a proper pother, Charis, but she knows all about herbs and possets. Im sure Uncle Pellen will feel better soon.

Charis nodded. Im sure, too.

Except she wasnt. Deenie could feel that she wasnt, just as she could feel Uncle Pellens slowly failing spirit and Mas terrible, wrenching griefnot only for her friend, but for her husband and son, as well. Their feelings tangled inside her, making it hard to breathe. Making her head hurt, and her throat. After weeks of Das misery and Rafels rage it was enough to make her burst into sobs.

I hate feeling things. I wish I could snap my fingers and turn into stone.

No-one could tell her why she was like this. Not Pother Kerril, not Pother Nix, not even Mama or Da. He said it was cause she was special. As though somehow that would make it all right. Well, it didnt. She didnt want to be special, not if it meant living the rest of her life feeling other peoples hurts like they were her own. And the older she got, the harder she felt them, as though the seed of her feeling things grew as she grew.

What will it be like when Ive finished my growing? I dont want to find out. I want to find a way to stop it.

Not even Charis properly understood, and she was a mage with power. She said she knew how it felt. But even when she was weepy with what she could feel in Lur, it wasnt the same. No-one was the same.

No-one is like me, not even Da.

The loneliness of that was almost too hard to bear.

With the boiling water added to the teapot, Charis swirled it round a few times then set the tea aside to draw. Im so glad you bought that shawl, Deenie. That shade of blue is so pretty on you.

Deenie glanced at the kitchen table, where she and Mama had carelessly dropped their parcels. I do love it. But I wish youd bought the green one.

I didnt need it, said Charis, putting the lid back on the tea caddy. I have a green shawl already. And besides

Besides what? she prompted.

Nothing, said Charis, and made herself smile. Maybe next time. Anyway, its fun to look at things without buying them.

Charis She hesitated. I dont want to pry. But they were close as sisters. Charis, is itis it money?

No! said Charis, quickly, hotlybut then her face crumpled, and she nodded. The possets Papa needs now, the herbs are so rare. Especially with the rain and the flooding. Its not that there isnt money, there is, butI dont know how long it has to last, Deenie. I dont know how long

Oh, Charis, she whispered. Im so sorry. I wish

With a heartbreaking effort, Charis banished her fears. Blinked back the tears, tilted her chin, and carefully untied her frilly yellow apron and hung it on its hook by the muslin-curtained kitchen window.

I meant to ask you before, hows Rafel? I never see him around. Well, just that once in the street the other day, butthats not the same.

Oh, Charis. Her friend tried to seem indifferent, but whenever she spoke of Rafel her heart leapt into her eyes. A few days after Uncle Pellens farewell ball, when she couldnt help herself, shed asked if Rafel ever spoke of her. The hurt when she found out no, he didntit was awful.

Rafes fine, Deenie said, cautiously. Only a bit upset that Goose is leaving.

Of course hes upset, said Charis, all swift compassion. Theyre best friends, him and Goose. She reached for a cloth and dabbed the bench dry. Snuck a sly, sideways glance, looking for a moment exactly like her old self. What about you, Deenie? Are you upset Goose is leaving?

She felt the heat rush into her cheeks. I dont know what you mean.

I think you do, said Charis. Havent you seen how he looks at you? I have. Are you sweet on him? Hes ever so nice.

And how was this suddenly about her and Goose? Charis, youre imagining things, she said, flustered. And Rafel is fine.

The teasing light died out of Chariss eyes. Well, good. Thats good, she said, and kept on drying the dry bench.

Deenie watched her, worried. Shed never come right out and asked Rafel if he liked Charis especially. She thought he did, even though he never spoke of her. She thought it was cause he did like her that he flirted with so many other girls when there were parties and balls in the City. Girls he liked well enough, but not so much it made him uncomfortable.

Charis made him uncomfortable.

But hes still awful cross with Da, she added. If only theyd talk to each other, I know they could fix things. But theyre both so stubborn, Charis. Mamas at her wits end with the pair of them, and so am I. If we were still on the coast I swear Id push them both in the harbour, water-spouts or not, and then

But Charis wasnt listening. Fresh tears had welled into her eyes and this time she didnt blink them away. And then she was slumping on the kitchen bench, her shoulders shaking. Over Rafel?

Please, please, dont let it be about Rafel.

Oh, Deenie, Charis whispered, the tears flowing down her cheeks. Im so afraid. PapaPapa, hesoh, I cant say it. I cant.

So, not about Rafel. And now she wished it was. Chariss pain for her father was a dreadful thing, as hungry as the whirlpools in Westwailing Harbour. But as her arms went out to hold and to comfort, she felt a fresh wave of awfulness crash over her. Sharp as broken glass, the pain sliced through her chest and throat, stealing her breath. She let go of her friend and ran for the scullery. Flung herself over the big stone tub, retching and retching, as her head spun and her body shivered hot then cold then hot.

Deenie!

And that was Mama, shaking with alarm. Charis must have fetched her from Uncle Pellens chamber. Blindly she turned and let her mothers loving arms shelter her. Buried her wet face against her mothers shoulder and sobbed.

Deenie, what is it? said Mama. What do you feel?

Mamas hand stroked her hair, over and over. But it only dulled a little bit the glass pains in her chest and throat. Da, she choked out. Mama, Das hurting.

She felt her mother tense. The softly stroking hand stopped. What kind of hurting?

The magic kind, Mama, she said, squeezing her eyes tight shut. And its bad. Its very bad.

Jervale spare us, Mama muttered. Ill make him bloody sorry he ever met me. Charis!

Charis was hovering in the open doorway, so scared. Aunt Dathne?

We have to go, child, said Mama. Tell your father he must stay in bed again tomorrow. Tell him Ill come back with another posset by the evening. No getting up, mind. Youll see he keeps under his blankets?

Yes, Aunt Dathne, said Charis, her voice wobbly with fright. Ill tell him. Isis Deenie all right?

Of course. Shes just tired, said Mama. Its been a long, exciting day. Come along, Deenie. Lets get you home. Charis

Yes?

Run outside, child, said Mama. Find a cart or a carriage that can take us back to the Tower. Its too far for Deenie to walk when shes feeling unwell. Use Ashers name, to be certain of help.

Deenie lifted her head, ashamed. Saw the fright in Chariss face. Felt like a fool, and so sick. Oh no, Mama. Please. Dont make a fuss. I can walk. Charis, Im all right. Dont fret for me. Im only

Hush! said Mama fiercely. Youll do as youre told. Charis, what are you waiting for? Go.

Charis fled.

Deenie, said Mama, holding her. Quickly. While were alone. Youre sure its your father? That hes meddling with magic?

She sounded so raw, Deenie broke free of her embrace and stared at her. Yes, Mama. Its Da. I know what he feels like.

The look in Mamas eyesshed never seen it before. Never felt this kind of frightened rage in her, not even down in Westwailing. Where is he, Deenie? Can you tell?

Reluctant, she opened herself to the messy, hot pain. IIm not sure. But I thinkyes, hes with Rafe. I can feel Rafe a little bit. Hes not hurting, not like Da. But hes frighted. And I can feeltheres something else. Power. A lot of power. A lot of strong magic. She tried, but she couldnt stop the whimper. I cant tell where they are, Mama. Im sorry. Im sorry.

No, no, no, its all right, Deenie. Mama pressed a hand to her forehead, distracted, so much fear in her eyes. I think I know where they are. I think I know what theyre doing. A sob caught in her throat, half-anguished, half-angry. Oh, Asher. Im going to kill you.

Trembling, she shrank from her mothers rage. Whats happening, Mama? What

Oh, Deenie, its all right, said Mama, and kissed her. You mustnt be frighted, mouse. Whatever theyre playing at, Im sure Da and your brother will be fine.

Except she didnt believe it.

I dont believe it either. This is bad, like Westwailing. Oh, Da. Rafel. What have you done?

Da! Rafel shouted, falling to his knees beside his stricken father. Da, what is it? Whats gone wrong?

Hed thought what hed seen in Westwailing was something, but it was nowt compared to Da pouring power into Barls Weather map. Fantastic, fiery sigils, setting the air alight. The chambers glass dome had trembled, smashed shafting sunlight to rainbows. Hed felt his blood burn, his hair stir. Das Weather Magic called to him, shuddering his bones.

But now blood was streaming from his fathers eyes, as though someone had tried to gouge them from his skull with a blunt gutting knife. More blood flowed from his nose, even his mouth.

Da! he shouted again. Can you hear me? Can you talk?

Da didnt answer. Sprawled across the Weather map, he only coughed and groaned.

Barls bloody tits, Da! Dont let you die, you said. How am I sposed to do that?

Shaking, he pressed one hand to the Weather map then recoiled, sickened, feeling Morgs filthy magic all stirred up in there and spitting. Dont be a coward, Rafel. Da needs youand so does Goose. Retching, he touched the map again, and this time caught a fleeting glimpse of Barls magic. Stronger than it had felt before Da started pouring himself into the map so something had happened. Something good, before it all went bad.

He bent close to his father, pressed his lips to Das ear. Its working, Da, he whispered. Dont stop. Let me help. Take my magic, like you did in Westwailing. Take as much as you need. Take all of it, I dont care.

Blood bubbling on his lips, eyes closed, Da nodded. Hold my hand sprat.

Barely breathing, he wrapped his fingers round Das hand. It felt cold. Weak. Da wasnt an ole man. Why did he feel like an ole man?

His magics killing him. This is what he meant. Weather Magics bloody murder. Oh, Da.

Da groaned again, then opened his eyes. His face was masked in blood. Im sorry, Rafe. Its goin to hurt you. Worse than Westwailin.

I dont care, Da. It doesnt matter. Just hurry. Lets get this done so we can see you safe in bed, all right?

Das ole man fingers tightened, and he tried to smile. Rafel tried to smile back at him, his heart racing. Then he breathed out, slow and deep, and gave up his magic, all of it, to his father.

Furious heat freezing cold thunder and lightning and snowstorms in his mind. A high, sweet voice screaming. That was Barls voice, twisted in pain. Morgs voice, full of hatred, snarled beneath it.

Rafel choked, his blood turned to fire. And then he howled, because a whirlpool was sprung to life in his head. He could hear Da howling with him as the greedy, starving map tried to suck them both dry. The Weather Magic was pitiless. It was the worst pain hed ever felt, like shards of shattered glass slicing him to ribbons. It was in Da, not him, but still he could feel it, storming through both of them without pause or mercy.

DaDa He was weeping, and he didnt care. Da, stop. Theres something wrong. I dont think its meant to be like this Da!

Lost inside the Weather Magic, Da couldnt hear him.

Rafel tried to let go of his fathers hand, but he couldnt. The magic had melded them. Was draining both of them dry.

Without warning, the sunlit weather chamber plunged into darkness. Eyes bloodied, vision blurring, Rafel looked up. Saw ugly greenish-black clouds boiling above the glass dome. The temperature within the chamber plummeted. Hail rattled. Rain pounded. The chambers parquetry floor shook.

Da! Is that you? Are you doing this? he shouted. Da, youve got to stop! Da, stop it, please!

Beneath its wet, scarlet mask, Das face had drained milk-white. Desperate and dizzy, Rafel struggled to prise his fathers fingers loose, struggled to get free of him, to break the cruel bonds of magic before it killed them. As the sudden storm raged overhead, and the Weather map beneath his hand thrummed and sizzled and burned with power, he fought to save them

Except he had no idea how to break a working.

But I can figure it out. I figured how to crack stones, and dance leaves, and make waves in my bath. I unpicked a Doranen lock and I collapsed waterspouts in Westwailing Harbour. I did all of that, I can bloody do this.

But before he could defeat the pain, he had to accept it. That was the hardest partletting the pain take him and shake him like a rat-dog with a rat. Surrendering, he sank himself beneath the surface of raw magic

and saw the bonds of Das working like ropes of fire, binding him and his father so tight. But the scarlet flames were blighted black, infected by Morgs lingering malice. Twisted, distorted, they tried to destroy what they were designed to nurture. Burning, they burned him. He was weeping with the pain.

I cant I cant

Das strength was swiftly failing, even as the storm beyond the Weather Chamber grew more and more ferocious. His own strength was failing. He could feel himself being emptied without mercy, feel the ravenous theft of everything he had, everything he was and hoped one day to be. His mind was spinning. Fading. Within heartbeats hed be goneand so would Da.

Now or never.

With the scant power that remained to him, trusting to instinct, trusting himself, he ripped the binding ropes apart. Destroyed the working link. Pulled himself free from death, and Da with him. He hoped. He heard Da cry out. Felt him shudder. Felt Barls Weather map writhing in pain. Felt the earth of Lur writhe with it, convulsing, and his body being tossed aside as the storm beyond the Weather Chamber shook its fist and smashed harder.

Rafel opened his eyes. Da. His voice was shredded. His throat raw. Da, can you hear me?

Da was groaning, his breathing harsh and disordered. Splotches of his dripping blood disfigured the Weather map. He was still sprawled across it, still trying to give it power. Rafel could feel his Weather Magic sparking, struggling, feeding the map and the storm beyond the chamber in mean dribs and drabs.

But dribs and drabs were enough. The damage continued.

NoDa, no, you have to stop, he said, and rolled disjointed to his hands and knees. Crawled by inches back to his father. Took him by the shoulders and tried to drag him off the map. Please, Daplease. Help me. You have to stop!

But lost inside the Weather Magic, lost to sense and reason, Da fought him. Rafel felt his tears fall hot, like burning embers.

This is my fault. Its my fault. I was meant to keep him safe.

Da, please, please, come back. Please let go. Come back.

And with the little strength that was left to him, the miserly dregs, like cracking stones as a spratling he wrenched his father free. Tumbled with him to the parquetry floor. Held him close, as though he was the father and Da was his son, wounded and in dire need.

I got you, Da, I got you, he whispered. Its Rafel, Da. I got you. Dont fret, I wont let go.

No reply. Could Da even hear him? What do I do now?

And then the chamber door flew open and Mama burst in, raging worse than any storm, soaking wet and steaming with fury. Deenie crept in behind her. Just as wet, but not angry. Weeping. Trembling so hard her teeth chattered.

She felt us. Oh, sink me. Of course she bloody felt us.

Whats he done, Rafel? Mama demanded as she strode across the floor. Whats the bloody fool done? Has he killed himself? Has he killed us all?

Rafel scrambled sideways as Mama dropped to the floor beside him and hauled Da into her arms. Hehe was trying to fix the Weather map. Fix Lur. With Weather Magic. Like he did last time. Hewethe map

We? Mama demanded. Do you mean you were helping him?

Her eyes were so dreadful he couldnt look at her. He stared at the floor. Aye, he whispered. He asked me to. Mama, he practically begged me. How could I say no? But something went wrong. The Weather map, it

Of course something went wrong! Mama shouted. In the chamber doorway, Deenie sobbed. The bloody maps wrecked. Its ruined. It nearly killed him the last time and he swore to me, he swore

Dathne, Da said, his voice a croak, and opened his blood-caked eyes. His reaching fingers touched her tear-streaked face. Dont fratch at the sprat. It aint his fault. And dont fratch at me, neither, youyou slumskumbledy wench. I had to do it. I had to. I

Asher! Mama screamed, as Da began convulsing. Began thrashing like a line-hooked fish hauled to its slow death on a pier. Asher!

But Da couldnt hear her. And over their heads thunder crashed, and lightning cracked, and a terrible, terrible rain poured down

PART THREE CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Arlin travelled to Dorana City in his fathers expensive, perfectly sprung carriage. Except, of course, it was his carriage now. It was all his: the vineyards, the mansion, the City townhouse, the treasury. The library. The Garrick estate, to which he was the sole heir. With so much wealth gained, so swiftly, some might say he should be grateful to Asher and Rafel. He was sure some did say it, behind his back, where they couldnt be overheard.

But let them say it to my face.

Nine days had trudged by since ignorant Sarle Baden had departed the City, leading the expedition that should have been his, too. That would have been his if grief hadnt felled him. If Baden hadnt shoved him aside.

And now hell fail. Hell not find Lost Dorana. The fool. If hed not been so arrogant, so eager to usurp Fathers dream as his own. If hed been willing to be led. Then I might have helped him. Then I might have told him what Father knew, and I know, and nobody else.

Since the expeditions departure it seemed Lur was fallen to pieces, was floundering, aimless, as the length and breadth of its dire predicament finally was understood. The rain had returned, soaking into the still-soaked ground. The storms were back as well, causing fresh floods, and the earth tremors, more violent and vicious than ever. Half the Garrick vineyards were rot-ruined already, his envied inheritance turning to slime before his eyes. And Lur was rotting right along with it. Ashers fault, all of it. No proof yet, but he knew. Every ill in the kingdom could be traced back to him. Every ill

My father is dead.

The carriage was slowing. Theyd reached Dorana already? Well, perhaps it wasnt to be wondered at. With the miserable weather and the constant fear of not knowing where lightning might strike, when the earth might tremble, gaping and greedy to swallow men whole, not many were willing to risk journeying far on the open roads.

He pulled aside the carriage windows curtain and looked outside. Theyd passed through the open City gates and were heading for the General Council chamber behind the central Market Square. He saw rain. Mud. A scattering of wet, unhappy faces. Some misguided, self-deluded Olken were out and about, trying to pretend the world wasnt drowning around them. Trying to pretend they werent drowning with it.

Drowning. Westwailing Harbour, whipped ferocious and deadly. The cold shock of immersion as he plunged into the water. Pain and confusion as he was dragged into the skiff. And his father his father that last dreadful glimpse of him in the whirlpool. Screaming. Spinning. Spinning, then sucked under to die. Rafels faultand Ashers. Hed hardly eaten since. Who needed food with a belly full of hate?

I must have justice. Murder cannot remain unavenged.

And he would have itbut not by proxy. Sarle Baden might have had faith in the workings of Justice Hall, but he knew better. Father had taught him well. The Halls corrupt lackeys were not to be trusted. Besides revenge would mean nothing if it were not deeply personal. Meted out by his own hand.

At last the carriage reached its destination, and he strode into the Council chamber building intent upon driving home to the incompetents who passed for leaders in this soaked, sorry kingdom that the great Rodyn Garrick must be remembered in blood. Asher might be lying on his deathbed but his misbegotten, unnatural son lived. His son could pay. His son would payor Lurs Olken would feel the weight of Lord Arlin Garricks heavy hand.

The Council chamber was in an uproar. Pellen Orrick, grey-faced and surely deserving of his own lingering deathbed, for he looked half-deadwas raging at the gathered councilors.

was right! Again! Why didnt you listen? If youd listened Asher wouldnt be paying the price for your stubborn disbelief! Barl save us, we dont deserve him!

Admitted to the chamber by two easily cowed City guards, Arlin stood unnoticed as Orrick sank sweating and coughing into his chair, and the unchastened Council defended itself against his accusations. Shouted at him, and each other. He felt ill, to be witnessing his people so lower themselves as to seek understanding from Olken.

We are Doranen. The greatest mages the world has ever seen. How have we forgotten that? How have we become these meek, mewling supplicants? Father was right. I never should have doubted him. We have betrayed our proud heritage, inviting our own destruction.

Speaker Shifrin, that fat Olken fool, was adding to the mayhem by clanging his bell, which not a single councilor attended. Shifrin was useless. So was Barslman Jaffee, more concerned with Orricks wheezing than in imposing discipline on the rabble. And Rafel? Where was Rafel? Was he even here?

Yes. There he was. Returning to the Speakers table with a pitcher. Watching him succour Pellen Orrick, pour ale into a glass for him and steady his shaking hand as he drank, Arlin felt a wave of loathing so intense that for a moment he thought he might not keep his feet.

And then it passed, and he had himself coldly under control. That was important. Father would despise him should he allow emotion to weaken his resolve.

Meister Speaker! he said loudly. Meister Speaker, I would be heard!

But Shifrin couldnt hear him above the gabbling and his own pathetic attempts to restore order. So, uncaring that he had not been invited here, considering himself above such petty considerations, he stalked across the chamber floor.

Lord Garrick! said Shifrin, noticing him at last. My lordIm sorry but this is a privy gathering. Youve not been granted leave to

I will present myself wherever I choose, he said, making his way towards the Speakers table with a studied, deliberate nonchalance. In case youve forgotten, Shifrin, my father was a councilor.

What of it? said Rafel, one hand on Orricks shoulder. Council positions aint hereditary, Arlin.

The chamber was falling quiet, as one by one councilors both Doranen and Olken stilled their chattering tongues. Smiling, Arlin halted. Decided to let the incivility pass, for now.

And yet here you are, Rafel.

I was invited, said Ashers son, his face darkening. And my fathers not dead.

His smile widened. Yet.

Lord Garrick! said Jaffee, his shocked protest cutting through the Councils babble. That was uncalled for.

Ignoring the old fool, and the rest of the Council, he kept his gaze on Rafel. Speaker Shifrin, I stand before you seeking redress for a gross injustice. My father

Arlin, said Rafel. Letting go of Orricks shoulder, he stepped out from behind the Speakers table. Dont do this. Dont make a fool of yourself. Go home and mourn in private. Your father wasnt murdered.

Of course you would say that, Rafel, he replied, ruthlessly civil. Being one of his murderers. But I prefer to

Arlin, bloody accept it. Your father got himself killed, Rafel retorted. And he near got mine killed with him while he was at it. Im sorry hes dead, but

Sorry? Astounded, he had to wait a moment for his breath to return. Youre sorry, Rafel? That is a verysmallword. That is a word lacking weight, and meaning. Its the word you use when you tread on someones foot, accidentally. Or when you interrupt them during polite conversation. It is not the word you use for stealing an innocent mans life.

I didnt steal anything! Rafel shouted. I didnt kill anyone. I

Be quiet, said Pellen Orrick, his voice hoarse, weak, but full of authority nonetheless. Both of you. We dont have time for this. We have to And then he closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head. Forgive me, Meister Speaker, he said to Shifrin, then nodded to another ferrety Olken seated close by. Mayor Stott. Its not my intention to

Fernel Pinttes replacement glanced at Shifrin, then raised a hand. No need to apologise, Pellen. Your experience is undisputed. Please, go on.

Lord Garrick, said Pellen Orrick, theres not a man or woman in this chamber whod diminish the natural sorrow any son must feel on the loss of his father. But this is not Justice Hall. If you have a grievance, make representation to Lady Marnagh once our session here is concluded. As senior administrator of Justice Hall she will examine your complaint and

Sarnia Marnagh is well known as Ashers friend, he replied, not bothering to look at the ageing Doranen woman who so failed to understand where her loyalty belonged. I have no confidence in her judgement.

Be that as it may, Lord Garrick, said frail Barlsman Jaffee, over the muttering Council. Not one of us stands above the law. Now you must withdraw, so we might continue our urgent business undisturbed.

They were dismissing him? As though he were a nobody, an Olken? What business could you have more important than murder? he demanded. More important than the slaughter of one of Lurs great mages?

This kingdoms survival! said Shifrin. Lord Garrickas Meister Orrick says, this Council grieves with you and mourns the kingdoms loss of your father. But

Platitudes! he spat at the fat fool. I have not come here for platitudes. I want

No-one here gives a shit what you want, Arlin! said Rafel, his face savage. So shift your arse out of this chamber before I

Pellen Orrick slapped his hand to the Speakers table. Rafel

No, Pellen! said Rafel, half-turning. Im sick of this poxy little shit and his poison tongue. Him and Fernel Pintte and Sarle Baden, all three tarred with the same lying brush. Im a murderer. My fathers a murderer. You call yourself Das friend? What you were saying before, did you even mean it? Or are you no better than this bloody Council, this leaky boatload of sinkin fools?

Orrick lurched to his feet, unsteady on his one wooden leg. Shame on you, Rafel. If your father was here

Well, hes not, spat Rafel. Hes lying three-quarters dead under his blankets with my motheryour friendweeping over him. Because he risked his life for this kingdom, again. His furious glare raked the chamber. I dont know how any of you look yourselves in the mirror.

Forgotten for the moment, Arlin retreated almost to the chamber doors where he might continue to discreetly observe the proceedings. Rafel was invited here for a reason. Whatever that was, he wanted to know.

This murderers life is become my business. There is nothing too small about him that I would not learn. I will bring him down. I will lay him low. Before I am done with him, he shall weep at my feet.

Rafel, said Speaker Shifrin sternly. Your anger is excusableyou fear for your fathers health. So do we. But you werent asked here to judge us. Thats not your place.

Rafel scowled at the Speaker. Then what is my place? Why am I here?

Shifrin played his gaze over the murmuring Council until it fell silent. Glanced at Jaffee, and Sarnia Marnagh, and last of all at Pellen Orrick. Then he turned to Rafel. Youre Ashers son.

Warily, Rafel stared back at him. I know.

Levity, Rafel? said Shifrin, his expression tightening. With Lur facing its darkest days, youd

Shifrin, Pellen Orrick said, touching his arm. Its a tense time.

What I mean, said Shifrin, through gritted teeth, is that like your father, you can feel the earth the way other Olken mages cant?

So? said Rafel, still wary.

And like your father, you have the touch for Doranen magic?

Arlin, closely watching, saw Rafels fear, imperfectly concealed. Was thrilled by it. Fear was a weaknessand weakness could be exploited.

You know I do, Rafel said. Whats going on? You aint saying whats happened is my fault? Or Das fault? Because we didnt cause this, we were

No, said Shifrin, curt with impatience. Rafel, nobodys blaming youor your father. We know how much we owe him.

Then tell me what you want, said Rafel, so arrogant. His fathers son, indeed. Or Im going back to the Tower. My mother needs me.

And so does Lur, said Shifrin, with an uneasy sideways glance at Pellen Orrick. Rafel, with your father He hesitated. unwell, it could be youre our kingdoms only chance of survival.

Im not, said Rafel, taken aback. Arrogance abruptly subdued. Interesting. Its the weather thats gone wrong, and I aint a WeatherWorker.

We know that, said Speaker Shifrin. But you have power. There has to be something you can do to stop Lur falling apart.

The councilors leaned forward, all of them, even the Doranen, waiting to hear what Rafel had to say. Waiting for him to save them. Rafel. They were pathetic.

Rafel looked at them, still uncertain. If thats true, I dont know what it is.

When Lur faced its first great crisis, Doranen and Olken magics were melded, said Barlsman Jaffee. And Weather Magic was born to keep us safe. Now Lur faces destruction once more, and this Council believes

What? said Rafel, incredulous. That we should make our own Weather Magic? Or something like it? Dont be mad. Its more likely wed make things worse, not better. Those magics A memory, unpleasant, shifted behind his eyes. There was fear again. What did he know? You dont want to muck about with them.

Arlin bit his tongue. It galled him, but he agreed with Rafel. These Doranen were milk-and-water mages. Not a one of them was strong enough to wield that kind of power. It didnt exist here, anyway. Barl had seen to that. The magic they were after could only be found over the mountains, in Lost Dorana.

Nothings been decided, Rafel, said Jaffee, frowning. Nothing can be decided until the meaning of every shiver and twist in this kingdom, no matter how subtle, is understood. You are the strongest Olken mage we have. Will you seek the answers for us? Will you bind yourself to Lurs suffering earth and tell us what we need to know so we might cure what ails our poor, beleaguered home?

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Rafel stared at the floor. Paced a few steps. Paced back again, saying nothing. Then he looked up. Arlin, catching his hard stare full-face, felt himself flinch. A thought rose, unbidden: Dont get on his bad side. Disturbed, angered, he pushed it away. The Olkens not been born that I will ever fear.

Were seeking a way to save the kingdom, so that no more tragic sacrifices are made, said Jaffee, sounding almost humble. But we cant save it without you, Rafel. Please. Please, help us.

The council chamber was utterly silent. Every breath held, every body still as stone. Every hopeful, harrowed gaze trained on Ashers murdering son.

All right, Rafel said at last. Ill ride out tomorrowif you promise me two things.

Rafel Pellen Orrick shook his head. Youd bargain? Now? With so much at stake? Your father

Is a fool, Rafel said fiercely. And dyou know why, Pellen? Cause whenever anyone asked himasks himfor something, he gives it. No matter what it might cost him, he gives it and never once stops to think of himself. Well, that aint me.

An uncomfortable stirring round the chamber. What is it you want? Shifrin asked at last.

Arms belligerently folded, Rafel treated them all to his most arrogant stare. First off, you dont argue with me when I tell you what I find. You dont throw your hands up and say I must be mistaken. You dont ignore me, like you always ignore my da. Cause I know this much, what youre asking me to do? Its going to hurt. A lot. And Im not much interested in being called a liar afterwards.

Shifrin took a moment to look at his fellow-councilors. Not a one of them spoke. Not a single face showed any objection.

Agreed, said the Speaker. Whatever you find, we will accept as the truth without argument. Whats your secondrequest?

Arlin swallowed his contempt. Request? Demand, more like it. Ashers thuggish son was browbeating them, twisting their weak armsand they were letting him.

No wonder the kingdom is come to such a parlous place, with weaklings like this in charge. What use is a Council that begs, instead of leads?

Stirring from thought, Rafel turned and flung out a pointing finger. You tell him to stop calling me and my father murderers. You make Lord Arlin bloody Garrick swear on oath before this Council, here and now, that he knows what happened down in Westwailing wasnt murder.

Aching with rage and the urgent desire to destroy, Arlin strode out of the shadows and back into the chambers light. Halted face to face with Rafel, and let his enemy see him, really see him, for the first time in his life. He watched Rafel absorb the blow. Watched the Olken upstart blink. Swallow.

Thats right, Rafel. Im something else to fear.

And then he slid behind his mask again, and shifted his gaze past his fathers murderer to Shifrin. I will do no such thing, Speaker! Ill not betray my father for him. And that he would stand here, flouting my right to justice, my right to be publicly heard, that hed hold a knife to this kingdoms throathe proves me right in everything Ive ever said. He laughed, and looked again at Rafel. So which of us has the poison tongue now?

Rafel turned away. A small defeat, and he relished it.

The first of many, Rafel. My word on it. The first of many.

Rafel Slowly, painfully, each halting step an effort, Pellen Orrick abandoned the Speakers table and confronted Ashers son. Rested one hand on his shoulder. Rafel, Im sorry. You cant ask for that. Lord Garrick may be wrong, he may be blinded by grief, disordered by it, even, but he is entitled to his challenge. Asking us to deny him justice is putting a knife to Lurs throat. And when your father learns of it He shook his head. Do you want to break his heart?

Rafel walked out.

Lord Garrick, said Speaker Shifrin, when the hubbub at last was died down and Pellen Orrick was seated again, more grey-faced than ever. As you can see, this Council cannotwill nottake sides in this matter. If you wish to pursue the question of your fathers death, you must petition Justice Hall. Now kindly withdraw, my lord. This Council has business that must take precedence over your grief.

With the weight of the entire Council against him, he had no choice but to obey. So he bowed to the blind fools whod trust Lurs fate to a murderer and withdrew from the Council chamber into its antechamber, to consider his next move.

Rafel was nowhere in sight. Which was lucky for him.

And if I begged you not to go, Rafel? Would that make any difference?

Not looking up, Rafel shoved a second spare shirt into his almost-full pack. Mama, please, enough. How bad do you want me to feel? Its only for three days. Four at the most.

Three daysor fourmight be all your father has left to him! his mother retorted. You heard what Kerril said. Its a wonder hes still breathing. He could stop breathing before youve reached the City gates. Is that what you want, Rafel? To be wandering around the countryside while your father breathes his last?

Im doing what Da would want! he said, fumbling the packs buckles. Im putting Lur first, just like hes put Lur first pretty much his whole life. Hes lying in his bed like a breathing corpse, right now, for putting Lur first. And for me.

For you? said Mama. What do you mean?

He stared at her across his clothes-scattered bed. These past long days of cruel uncertainty had been especially brutal for her. Eyes shadowed and sunken, cheeks pale, everything strong about her turned fearful. It was as though a stranger was wearing her face. Rain slashed against the chamber window, filling the silence with threats of strife.

Goose, he said at last. Hating to admit it. Da thought if He had to stop, guilt burning his belly. He thought

Mama dropped to the blanket box at the foot of the bed. Elbows on her knees, face buried in her hands, she looked so dejected, so small and lonely, he couldve wept.

I know what he thought, she said, muffled. So weary. Oh, Asher.

And it had been for nothing, in the end. Goose and the others were gone over the mountains, and Barl alone knew what they were facing. Thered been no word yet through the talking stone theyd taken. Between fretting on him and Da and feeling Lurs torment, it was getting harder and harder to sleep.

Mama, he said, close to despair. You know hed want me to go. She looked up. And what makes you think I care what hed want? Hed never seen her defeated, not like this. Not even in Westwailing, when shed given up and walked away.

Mama

Dont, said Mama, and hid her face again. Rafel, I cant see the point of you doing this. Barls map is destroyed and theres no more Weather Magic. The last threads binding it to Lur are snapped. So what can you do?

Sighing, he tossed the buckled pack aside and joined his mother on the blanket box. Slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. I can feel the earth. Better than anyone, even you. Well, except Da. He pulled a face. And maybe Deenie.

Deenie? Mama pulled away from him and stood, arms wrapping tight round her ribs as though she held herself against a mortal wound. You leave Deenie out of this madness, Rafel. Youre a man now. Youll do what you want and I cant stop you. But Deenie? Her voice broke. Shes younger than her years. Still a child, in many ways. Ill not have her dragged into this. Ill not have her life ruined by magic, by being different, by

But Mama, he said, as gently as he could. She is different. You cant

She turned on him, her dark eyes shimmering with tears and fury. Dont you tell me what I cant! I am her mother and I will protect her till the last breath leaves my body! I was born Jervales Heir and I accepted that burden. I did all that was asked of me to see that evil was defeated. But the days of prophecy are over, Rafe. The Circle is broken and Ill not see it mended. Ill not give my daughter to it. Fingers pressed to her lips, tears falling, she almost sobbed. Ill not forgive your father for giving you to it.

Mama! Shocked, he got to his feet. Dont blame Da for this. I wanted to help.

And now you want to leave, she said bitterly. But how does that help me?

The need to hold her, to be held by her, was so sharp it hurt. But he didnt dare move. If she pushed me away now, Id break. What helps Lur helps us all, Mama. Doesnt it?

She snorted. Your father thought that way. Now look at him. Hes a lump of flesh in his bed. And is Lur helped? No. Its suffering, worse than ever.

Which is why Ive got to go. Ive got to get beyond the City walls and into the Home Districts, so I can feel whats going on without folk getting in the way. Doranen magics so loud.

Thats what Matt used to say, she murmured. And it killed him in the end. It kills everything. I hate it.

Mama, I would never ask Deenie to do this, he said, willing her to believe him. I know how much shes hurting. And thats one more reason for me to go. If I can feel whats happened to Lur, if I can understand, then

Then what? You cant fix this, Rafel! Lur is ruined and theres nothing to be done.

Looking at her now, it was hard to believe shed been Jervales Heir. Shed given up. Did Da know shed given up? You cant be sure of that.

Yes, I can, she insisted. Rafe, its over. At long last this kingdom has run dry of Barls magicand we have no choice but to endure the coming dark days. And Im sure, Rafe, I know, that the Council is foolish to think youll save us.

The derision in her voice lashed him. Why? Cause Im not the mage my father is?

No! she cried. Because what they want is impossible. What your father wanted is impossible. Nothing lives forever, Rafe. Not even a kingdom.

He stepped back. Soyou want us to do nothing? To sit in the rain with our mouths open until we drown?

His mother stared at him in bleak silence for a long time. Then she shook her head, slowly, and turned away. You havent heard a word I said.

Oh, I heard you! he retorted. I just think youre wrong!

Fine, she sighed. Then you go. Traipse about the Home Districts to your selfish hearts content. Do the Councils bidding. Just dont be surprised that when you cant snap your fingers and make everything all right, they blame you.

They wont do that. They understand

All they understand, Rafel, is that they want the world the way it was! she said, swinging to face him. And when they finally realise they wontcanthave it, theyll get angry. Believe me.

No. Mama, Im not a fool, he said, his own temper stirring. I made the Council promise to heed me. Ill be fine. I think youre

Take that condescending tone with me and youll be well sorry for it, she said, her face and eyes so cold. Am I some ole woman in my dotage? I have lived through this before. Face the truth, Rafel, no matter how painful or unpalatable it might be. Lur has used up all its second chances. This kingdoms last frail hope of deliverance was Fernel Pinttes misguided expedition. And with that lost we

Goose. Dont call them lost, he snapped. You dont know theyre lost. We just havent heard from them yet, thats all. You dont

I dont what? she spat. Remember Tollin and his expedition, and what happened to them? Well, my bright boy, heres something else you were never told. I sat beside that man as he died. I breathed in the stench and corruption of his rotting flesh as it fell from his raddled bones. Your father was rightPintte and Baden never shouldve gone. They and their followers have perished, and hope is perished with them. Now those of us left behind in Lur will reap what Barl and her precious Morgan sowed.

He didnt know how to answer that. He was so angry, so disappointed any ticktock he was going to lose his temper and say something he could never take back. That she might not forgive.

Rafe

Halfway to the chamber door, his pack in one hand, his long, oiled riding-coat and broad-brimmed leather hat in the other, he stopped. Turned. The pain in her face was a punishment.

Mama, Im not doing this to hurt you, he said, his voice tight. His throat tight, and his chest. Breathing hurt. Im doing it for Lur. For Da.

I know, she said. There was no softness in her. Make sure you farewell him. So youll know youve done it, even if he wont.

Mama His eyes were burning. Ill be back in a few days. No more than a week.

Youll be back when it suits you, Rafel, she said, shrugging. And not a moment sooner.

He left her standing in his chamber, so much anger, so much pain, and thudded his way downstairs to his parents floor of the Tower. Dropping his pack, coat and hat on the landing he pushed the main doors open and walked soft-footed to their privy apartments.

Deenie was in there, reading to Da.

Looking up at his entrance, his sister marked her place on the books page with her finger. Rafel. Youre leaving?

Aye, he said roughly, halting two steps through the doorway. Are you going to fratch at me too?

Deenie shook her head. Pale and trembly, she looked too small for her clothes. Why would I fratch at you, Rafe? Youre only trying to help. Her face twisted. I wish I could help. But Im useless.

No, you aint, he said, and walked further into the chamber. Looking at his sister, not his father, cause looking at Da made him come over girlish and weepy. Youre keeping Da company.

For all the good its doing him.

You dont know its not. You dont know he cant hear you.

I spose, she said, disconsolate.

Looking at her closely, he saw pinch-prints of pain around her mouth. You still feeling poorly?

I feel what I feel, she said, her voice low. No point talking on it, Rafe. I cant make it go away, any more than you can.

No, he agreed. But you feel things harder. You always have. He pulled a face. I wish I was like you, Deenie. I wish

No you bloody dont, she said, suddenly raging. But Deenie never raged. It was like a punch in his guts. Why would you say that, Rafe? Tears stood in her eyes, on her lashes. Youve grown up with me screaming. You know my nightmares. At least you can go out there and try fixing whats gone wrong. Me? I get to stay cooped up in this Tower, drinking muck that make me feel like Im only ever two breaths away from vomiting my guts out, and if you were like me then you would be too, so dont you talk that folderol. Not to me.

He walked all the way over to her and crouched by her side. Im sorry, Deenie. I never meant to

I know you didnt, she muttered. Dont mind me. Its not been a good morning, is all.

He smoothed a wisp of dark hair behind her ear. Reckon I can see that.

Im frighted, Rafe, she said, groping for his hand. Im so frighted Das going to die.

Deenie Her fingers felt fragile and defenceless in his. He raised them to his lips for a kiss and then, at last, let himself look at their father.

Oh, Da.

So still. So silent. All his restless energy vanquished. He looked empty. Gone away. Just a shape beneath his blankets.

I keep remembering Darran, said Deenie, her voice thick. I was tiddy, I know, but I remember him. I remember that last night.

Dont, he said roughly, cause he remembered it too. Darran was an ole man. Years and years older than Da. He was palsied. Da aint dying.

Deenie looked to the chambers open door, then scrunched down in her chair. I want to tell you something, she said, so softly he could hardly hear her. Its bad. I tried to tell Mama, butshe wont listen. She says its cause Im not well. She says its the possets and elixirs making me imagine things. Pother Kerril says the same. She leaned close to him, quivering. And its true, I am having nightmares. But this aint a nightmare, Rafe. This is real.

Hed never seen her so intense. What, Deenie? Whats real?

Theres a darkness inside him, Rafe. Something bad is in there, making him sick. Keeping him asleep. Away from us.

Uncertain, he stared at her. Deenie

I can feel it! She pressed his hand palm-down to Das cold forehead. Cant you feel it, Rafe? Please, please, tell me you feel it!

But the only thing he could feel was misery, to see Da sunk so low. Maybe, he said cautiously, and took his hand back. Maybe I feel something.

She shifted away from him, disgusted. Youre just saying that to jolly me. Youre as bad as Mama, treating me like a sprat. She stood, paying no heed to the book as it thudded to the carpet. I have to take another posset now. If youre going, goodbye.

NoDeenie, wait, dont

But she was gone, stamping out of Das chamber all crooked elbows and crossness.

He looked at his father. Is she right, Da? he whispered. Are you in there somewhere, trying to get out?

Da didnt answer. He hadnt moved since Pother Kerril brought him out of his thrashing fit in the Weather Chamber. Days and days of silence and sorrow. Even his sunken eyes were unmoving behind his closed eyelids. His chest rose and fell as he breathed. That was it.

Da Rafel kissed his fathers raspy, stubbled cheek, then stood. Im leaving for a bit. Councils asked for my help. But Ill be back, so dont you go anywhere. You hear me?

He turned for the doorand there was his mother, tears like rain sliding down her hollowed cheeks. She stood aside as he approached, and didnt lift her face for his kiss. She always lifted her face for his kiss.

Mama

She closed her eyes. Held out a hand, to fend him off.

You know where Ill be, he said, defeated. And Ive got my bit of talking stone. Call if you need me.

She said nothing. She still wouldnt look at him.

Furiously miserable, he walked past her to the landing. Picked up his buckled pack, his coat and his hat. Took the treads of the Towers spiral staircase two at a time, his boot-heels angrily rapping the marble treads. Once in the foyer he paused to shrug into his oiled coat and button it up, tug his leather gloves from one pocket and pull them on, jam his hat on his head, and then strode outside, his pack hitched over his shoulder. The rain had eased to a mean drizzle, which was a blessing. His only one.

Firedragon, strained fetlock well-mended, was ready for him. He tied his pack to his saddles cantle, swung himself astride the restive stallion and held him in check until they were safely out of the stable yard. Then he gave the horse its head and they galloped pell-mell, mud flying, along the tree-lined avenue, away from the Tower, and his father, to the palace grounds main gates.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

His progress after that was much slower. Despite the misting rain, folk were braving the Citys streets. And since everyone knew him, and knew flame-coated Firedragon, since they knew Da was poorly, he couldnt walk the horse ten strides without someone stopping him and asking, How goes your father?

Because they loved Da, and he was Ashers son, he couldnt be rude. Couldnt jam his heels into Firedragons wet flanks and gallop like a madman to Doranas gates or slink his way out of the City down back lanes and alleyways. No. He had to nod and smile soberly and thank them for their concern. Tell them, Das abed, which aint a pleasure for him, but hes resting mighty comfortable. Ill tell him you asked.

But folk didnt ask just cause they loved Da. They were frighted too, looking for comfort and who could blame them? The mood in the City was dark, fear making everyone ripe for fratching and brangles and fisticuffs. The Citys guards were being kept on the hop. No wonder the Council had asked him to do this. And though a part of him still resented how theyd ignored Da and his warnings, which had led to the mess that was Westwailingthough he was close to hating them for thatand even though they wouldnt do what he wanted, get rid of Arlin once and for allhed never have refused them.

If only Mama could see that. If only she could see how refusing the Council wouldnt only disappoint Da, it would give bloody Arlin rocks to throw at them. There was no telling how much trouble that poxy shit would make out of it, with the City on edge. With Lur on edge. Frighted folk were skittish folk, and skittish folk, like spooked horses they didnt much care who they trampled.

But right now Mama couldnt see straight. And he understood that, he did, only he felt like a sprat again, small and shivery inside, because his mother was fratched with him. His whole life shed been the one who understood. Now she was turned against him. Hed never felt so lost.

But shell forgive me when I fix this. When Da doesnt die, and I find a way to fix Lur, she wont be fratched. Shell be proud.

In fits and starts he continued through the City, until finally he reached its open gates. There was a whole crowd of folk waiting for him there. As a general rule that kind of folderol wasnt allowed, on account of not slowing down the travellers coming in and going out. But Captain Mason of the Guards stood on duty today, making sure folk behaved themselves and turning a blind eye to those whod gathered to wish Ashers son well. As he rode past, smiling his thanks, the Captain nodded. Good luck.

Captain, he murmured, half-raising his hand. And then couldnt utter another word, because Charis was one of the Olken patiently waiting to wave him goodbye.

Rafel, she said, as he halted restive Firedragon in front of her. Shed thrown a pretty green shawl over her head to keep off the drizzling rain, but she was still damp in patches. Mud splattered her stockings and the hem of her skirt. Rafe, can we talk?

Hed not meant to dawdle once he was free of the City. Once safely beyond the anxious well-wishers hed meant to give Firedragon his impatient head so they could gallop away from busy Dorana, to somewhere quiet that would let him hear Lur properly. That was what hed meant to do. Cept here was Charis, in the rain and splattered with mud, looking up at him with those eyes wanting to talk.

I spose, he said, half pleased, half wary. Go on ahead and wait for me down the road.

She tried to smile. I wont keep you long, I promise.

As she wriggled her way out of the crowd he looked at all the solemn Olken faces gathered on either side of the wide-open gates. Could feel Captain Masons displeasure, but knew he couldnt ignore them. Not after stopping to have a word with Pellens daughter. He could feel their fear, a cold breath on his skin. Could feel them thinking, Hes Ashers son. Hes going to save us.

He felt sick.

Now that hed stopped, an ole man raised his gnarled hand. Barls blessings on you, Rafel. And on your father.

The fervent words were repeated, rushing through the crowd like a warm wind through a field of green corn. But before he could say anything, give these good folk thanks or hope or even a smile, frowning Captain Mason started chivvying them about their business. So he tugged his hat-brim, eased his hold on the reins and let Firedragon bound through the open gates and onto the City road.

Charis had walked just far enough to keep them private, and was standing forlorn in the drizzle with her shawl pulled tight. He jogged Firedragon to join her then drew rein again.

Whats amiss, Charis? Not your da? Alarmed, he saw there were tears in her eyes. What? No, no, Pellen couldnt bethered be all kinds of noise if he wasCharis, he aint

Dead? No, she said swiftly. But Rafe, hes that Council meeting I begged him not to go, I begged him, but Her voice caught on a sob. Hes stubborn. And now hes paying the price.

Im sorry, he said, feeling useless and clumsy. Bad enough when Charis was all flirty and knowing, with her cheeky smile and her frivolous blouses that stirred a man to noticing she wasnt a girl any more. But now here she was all weepy and here he was wanting to climb off Firedragon so he could hold her and comfort her and

Am I in love with her? I cant be in love with her. Shes Deenies little friend. And Da warned mehe warned me

Rafe? said Charis, anxious. Rafe, whats the matter? Hows your father?

Das fine, he said quickly. Settle down, you fool. Hes resting comfortable. Thanks for asking.

Oh, Rafel. Charis glared up at him. Dont talk to me like Im one of them. Her head jerked towards the stragglers still loitering about the City gates. You cant hide from me, you know. Ive known you my whole life. And who knows better than me what its like to have a father so poorly? And Asher is poorly Rafe, isnt he?

She wanted to know if Da was dying. He couldnt answer. Couldnt bring himself to think on it or let himself feel her bright, burning sympathy. He had a job to do. If even once he let himself think

Ive got to go, Charis. Give my best to your

She stepped into the road, blocking his way. No. Wait.

Charis Guts twisting, he soothed Firedragons fret with one stroking hand, easy in the saddle as the horse pawed the cobbles and swung his hindquarters, tail swishing with temper. What dyou want from me, eh?

The truth, she whispered. The truth would be nice.

I told you the truth, Charis. Das in his bed, hes asleep. He aint in pain. At least He cleared his throat. Kerril says he aint.

But will he get better?

I dont know. No-one knows. But if he doesntif he doesnt

Staring at his gloved fingers folded tight round Firedragons reins, he flinched as Chariss hand rested lightly on his knee.

You know what Goose used to say about you? she asked. He used to say the real Rafel hardly ever showed his face.

What? Shocked, he looked down at her. What dyou mean Goose saidwhen did you and Goose ever

She was almost smiling. Hes your best friend, Rafel. And Papa likes his ale. Every few days Id buy a jug or two off him, directly, and wed chat a bit.

About me?

About all kinds of things, she said. But yes. Sometimes we talked of you. Goose thought

Hey, he said, scowling. Dont talk on what he used to say, Charis, or like he aint thinking anything right now. He aint dead.

Sorry, she said, and took her hand from his knee. I didnt mean toI only meant She folded her arms. I like your father, Rafel. Im worried for him. Im worried for you. What happened wasnt your fault.

No, no, no. He wasnt talking on that. Not to Charis, not to anyone. Da witless on the floor of the Weather Chamber, in his arms, thrashing and grunting, his face covered in blood Ive got to go, he said, and swung Firedragon to one side.

She leapt in front of him again. Hows Deenie, Rafel? Ive not seen her for days.

He couldnt ride over her, though the thought was bloody tempting. Just like Mama, she was a slumskumbledy wench. Charis

And dont you say shes fine! Charis snapped. Dont you dare say it, Rafel. Shes my best friend. Shes the sister I never had. And I know shes feeling the upset in the earth, worse than you are. Worse than me. Her fisted hand pressed against her belly. Its bad this time, isnt it? Rafe? This time we really are in trouble.

It was hard to meet her eyes. Whats Pellen said?

Papa? Smearing spilled tears from her cheeks, she half-laughed, half-sobbed. Nothing. He thinks silence can protect me. But I see how frightened he is. Hes so sick, and hes frightened. She looked at him, her eyes beseeching. Rafel, can you fix this?

Barls bloody tits He breathed out, hard. I dont know. I dont know if anyone can. Even Da. If hewhen he wakes.

Oh, she said, her voice small. Then she tilted her chin. Well, I did ask for the truth. And Deenie?

Aint nowt you can do for Deenie, Charis. Aint nowt anyone can do. She feels things and they hurt her. Thats just the way it is.

His blunt words upset her, he could see that, was sorry for it, but she didnt lash out. Instead, she tugged her shawl tight again. Im holding you up. Perhaps when you come back from your Council business you could stop in and see Papa? He does fret so, being cooped up in the house with mostly me for company.

He doesnt get other visitors?

Oh yes, but its not the same, she said. How can it be the same? They came to know Papa afterwards.

She meant after the Wall came down. He remembered Da saying that once, when he wasnt paying close attention to his words. After hed downed two pints of particular strong ale. There be the folk as were there, and the folk that werent, sprat, hed said. Some things, you cant explain em, or share em. If they were there, you dont need to. And if they werent, they wont understand.

Then I dont see as how Ill make a difference, he said. It was Da knew him then, not me.

Her smile was brief, her eyes full of quiet misery. True. But youre Ashers son, so its almost as good. But only if youve the time, Rafel. I dont want to impose.

And that made him feel mean. Charis

But she was walking away, back towards the City gates, and Fire-dragon was about ready to stand on his hind legs with temper, being made to wait for so long. So he loosened his hold on the stallions mouth, clicked his tongue and let the horse leap into a bouncing canter, hooves pounding wetly on the soaked City road. Overhead the clouds lowered groundwards, heavy with rain. The drizzle thickened and the air swirled cold and damp. Summer, it was sposed to be, but this wasnt like any summer Lur had ever seen. Not in a long time. Maybe not ever.

Charis, her eyes beseeching. Rafel, can you fix this?

Heavy with dread, he urged Firedragon faster.

The stallions long, easy strides swallowed the open road. He passed a handful of carts and carriages heading for the City, but with his hat pulled down and rain misting thickly no-one saw it was him. And then Firedragon threw his head up, ears pricking, pace slowing without being asked. Looming out of the gloom ahead, a motionless, solitary horse and rider. Rafel didnt know the animal but he recognised the man sat unmoving in its saddle.

Arlin.

Reaching him, Rafel pulled Firedragon to a plunging halt. Dorana City was a goodly distance behind him now, just its rooftops and the old palace visible above the gentle rise and fall of the rolling green countryside, dotted with yellow-tipped wild lampha bushes and bold scarlet frantins. Arlin and his horse stood on the Home Districts crossroad. Turn right and after ten leagues or so a traveller would come across the beehive district of Rumfylde. Turn left, and the Saffron Hills sweetly beckoned. Keep straight on and after days and days and a few round-aboutations, thered be the coast.

Rafel, said Arlin, his pale hair darkened with rain and his pale eyes shadowed with unfriendly thoughts.

He smoothed a wet lock of Firedragons mane. Hed intended to ride towards Rumfylde, but Arlin was in the way. Of course. That was what Arlin did. He got in the way. But he wasnt about to start something, cause they were alone and it didnt pay to be careless where this Doranen was concerned. Not after what hed glimpsed in the Council chamber.

Hes been hiding himself, like I have. Arlin bloody Garricks a sneaky little shit.

Arlin, he said, pleasantly enough. Youre a long way from home on a wet day.

Arlin lifted his bare head and stared quizzical at the clouded, weeping sky. Very wet, yes. I wonder, can you tell me when its due to stop raining?

I reckon you know I cant.

Arlins lip curled in a sneer. So much for being the new Asher.

Never said I was, he replied, as Firedragon shorted, unsettled. Only said Id help, if I could.

Arlin laughed. Help? You think you can help? Like you helped in Westwailing? He tipped his head, quizzical again. I wonder how many more men and women must die from your helping them, Rafel.

Sink me ArlinIm sorry.

You expect me to believe that? said Arlin, eyebrows lifting. To believe youre capable of remorse?

It was no use. Talking to this blind fool was a waste of time Lur didnt have. No, Arlin, he said tiredly. I dont.

Why are you out here, Rafel? said Arlin, and kicked his brown horse closer. His eyes squinted against the relentless, drizzling rain. Do you honestly expect me to buy thisthis tarradiddle about you being able to feel the earth?

Firedragon laid his ears flat back at Arlins stallion, ready to snap or strike. Scowling, Rafel jobbed the horses mouth in warning, not willing to back off. Arlin would see it as a victory, of sorts.

You calling me a liar? he said. Just cause you Doranen are deaf, dumb and blind to the earth, I must be too? I thought that kind of arrogance died with Conroyd Jarralt.

You prate to me of arrogance? Arlin snapped. You? Son of the most arrogant man this kingdom ever birthed?

Arrogant or not he saved your bloody life. So you might want to swallow that nasty tongue of yours, Lord Garrick.

Arlins teeth bared. What Ill swallow is your admission before the Council that you and your meddling father are responsible for all our current woes. You are unnatural. Both of you. It is unnatural that an Olken can wield Doranen magics. Not to mention insulting that youd dare refer to yourselves as mages. The Doranen are mages. You Olken are

Ill tell you what we are, Arlin, he said, as Firedragon began to dance on the spot. Were the folk as were rightfully born to this land. The folk as paid the price for Doranen arrogance. Six hundred bloody years kept down by you and yours. And if that aint enough, were the folk as saved you from Morg. Thats who we are, my lord.

Arlin looked skyward again, the rain falling steadily onto his face. Morg was twenty years ago, Rafel. Hes dead and gone. The buried past. What can you do to save us now, you and your precious Olken magic? Can you restore the weather to its former perfection? Can you undo the damage your father wrought, interfering with Barls brilliant workings? Can you make this cursed rain stop?

He forced himself to breathe slowly, feeling the stirrings of an unwise rage. Youre full of shit, Arlin. You always were, from our first day in school. Spew it somewhere else, why dont you? Ive got a job to do, as assigned by the Council.

Easing his hold on the reins, he nudged Firedragon a step sideways so he could get past bloody Arlin and make tracks for Rumfylde. But Arlin put his hand out, catching Firedragons bridle. The horse stopped, grunting a protest.

Lur is on the brink of chaos, Rafel, said Arlin, his voice soft with menace. You know it. I know it. And we know you cant save it. You must stand before the Council and admit that. You must

Forget what I must, he said, as Firedragon jerked and tussled to get free. You take your bloody hand off my horses bridle or so help me

Youll what? Arlin sneered. What will you do, Rafel?

Rafel smiled. Bollocks to being careful. Arlin was asking for it. This.

With a snap of his fingers he severed the girth on Arlins saddle, and in the next breath cracked three stones lying in the grass by the side of the road. The shards slapped Arlins horse on its fat dappled rump. Squealing, the beast bucked and bolted and Arlin, still in his saddle, tumbled to the ground.

You bastard! Arlin shouted, sprawling, his fine clothes splotched and splattered with mud. That was assault. Assault with magic. Ill see you thrown in the Guardhouse, Rafel. Ill see you destroyed in Justice Hall. Ill have you charged with attempted murder and the murder of my father!

Laughing, Rafel rode past him. You can try, Arlin, he said, over his shoulder. But Im Ashers son, remember? And youre the son of the man who wrecked the reef in Westwailing. So maybe you might want to think on that a bit.

Ignoring Arlins furious shouting he dug his heels into Firedragons flanks, and they galloped towards Rumfylde leaving the Doranen lordling to catch an ague, or walk home on blisters, or both.

He didnt care.

For three long, wet days he wandered through the Home Districts. Lur was weeping. Suffering. Bleeding from the deep wounds the Weather Magic, in its death throes, had gouged in the earth. He felt its pain in the waterlogged orchards, with their ripely rotting fruit, in the beehives, grimly droning, in the fields of drenched sheep and milch cows, and in the tilled soil screaming on the edge of hearing.

At first he thought he might go mad from it. The onslaught was brutal. Inescapable. Was this how Deenie felt? Haunted? Battered? No hope of respite, not a single moments peace?

Poor little mouse. I never realised.

But gradually his senses numbedand he welcomed their deadening. It meant that finally he could snatch a little sleep. Everywhere he travelled he kept himself to himself. Kept his hat pulled low and didnt give his real name. Everywhere he travelled he eavesdropped, shameless. In alehouses and markets and the inns where he stayed, he minded his own business and listened to the locals gossip. Not every Olken he encountered had magic, and of those who did, not many were powerful. He didnt stumble across one man, woman or child who felt the earths tumult as keenly as he did but many were feeling it. Felt ill, and afraid.

On the fourth day he visited Riddleton, a village on the furthest edge of the Home Districts, sat at the feet of the Saffron Hills. The land thereabouts was prime grazing country, where some of the best cattle in Lur were raised. Riddleton was a sleepy place, tucked far from the City, mostly overlooked cept twice a year when the big Livestock Markets were held. Out here, with the Saffron Hills rising, a gentle echo of Barls savagely splendid mountains, with more open countryside than the rest of the Home Districts hemmed-in fields and clustered cottages, Lurs torment shouted loudest of all.

Weary after so much time in the saddle, worn down by the ceaseless rain, sometimes drizzling, sometimes heavy, he ambled with Firedragon along the hedge-rowed lanes leading to the village. The constant scraping of earth-distress against his nerves set his teeth on edge, muttered pain behind his tired eyes. Firedragon, sensing his disquiet, broke into a shuffling jog-trot, wet tail swishing, slapping his flanks. Every bone aching, he eased the horse back to a walk. In the fields on either side of them rust-red, black spotted Saffron cattle grazed the wet grass. If they could feel the earths misery they gave no sign of it. He envied them their dumb beast ignorance.

Once in Riddleton village, he took a room at the Speckled Rooster. Saw bedraggled Firedragon settled in a warm, dry stable with a hot mash, then took himself off to tramp the dripping streets and boggy laneways. To bully his beaten senses into reading the sorry earth one more time.

This would be his last night away from home. Hed learned what hed needed to learn, what the Council had sent him to learn. But he knew, his heart sinking, theyd not want to hear what he had to say

Barl save us. Mama was right. This cant be fixed. The damage is gone too deep.

The thought bludgeoned him to a halt. He had to fall against a handy tree-trunk and wait for the shivering to pass. Lur was dying. He couldnt see for unshed tears.

What do I do, Da? How do I tell Mama and Deenie?

Da. The shard of talking stone sat in his pocket, but it hadnt stirred once. He chose to believe that meant his father hadnt stopped breathing. Surely Mama would call for him if Da slipped away. She was fratched, she thought him reckless, but shed not punish him like that. And any road if Da had died, he surely wouldve felt it.

He pushed off the tree-trunk and kept on walking, barely taking in the patchwork of market gardens on either side of him, carrots and corn and beans and peas. Bedraggled and wilted, but grimly holding on. Sobbing through his blood, Lurs curdling pain. Such a good thing Deenie was safe at home in Dorana, deadened with Kerrils elixirs. If Da was right, and magic was a curse, then his poor mousy sister was its worst victim.

Wandering aimless through the village, ignoring the glances from folk as were curious about strangers, he felt his thoughts slide from Deenie to Goose like rocks down a riverbank.

I never asked Deenie if she was sweet on him. Never told her what he told me. Doesnt matter. They can work it out themselves when he gets back. Cause hes bloody coming back. I dont care the Councils not heard from Pintte or Baden. That could be any reason. And anyway, Ive been on the road for days. By the time I get home, theyll have heard something. Therell be word from the expedition by the time I ride through the gates.

There had to be. Cause if there wasnt

And suddenly he was too tired to keep on walking. Too tired, too disheartened, too sick of what he felt. So he headed back to the inn. He wanted to sleep. To forget. To dream that Lur was thriving, just for a little while. For one last night. Cause in the morning hed have to ride back to Dorana and tell the Council there was no hope.

Sink me bloody sideways, Da. How did we come to this?

He took to his bed soon after supper, but didnt stay asleep for long. Wrenched from uneasy slumber into storm-wracked wakefulness, he blinked muzzily at his chamber ceiling as lightning cracked like whip-shot and thunder rumbled and rolled. The Speckled Rooster shuddered under the onslaught, window-panes rattling. Through the closed door he heard a young child scream.

Meister Tamly, the innkeeper greeted him. A wild night.

Gamble, he said, scrambled into his damp clothes and tumbled downstairs to the shabby, glimlit parlour. You all right?

Gamble shrugged. He was a slight man, with grey streaks at his temples and a fondness for loudly spotted weskits. Im not dead yet.

Rafel stared through the parlours bobble-paned windows at the pounding rain, at the blizzard of stripped foliage, at the torrents of water gushing through the laneway outside, all the storms destruction lit in silvery fits and bursts.

Barl preserve us, said Gamble, bowing his head.

You can feel it, cant you? he said, his stomach churning, his hands clenched to fists in his pockets, where nobody could see them. In his bones, a painful drumming. The last tatters of power tearing loose in the earth.

Sure I dont know what you mean, sir, said Gamble, carefully toneless. Sir, might be youll feel happier in your chamber with the curtains drawn, like the other guests.

Gamble He sighed. When I told you I was Ned Tamly, a farm manager looking to buy a new bull? I lied. Im Rafel of Dorana. Ashers son.

Ashers son? Gambles eyes in the fitful glimlight were wide and full of wonder. The great man himself?

Hed long ago lost count of how many times hed seen that look on an Olkens face. Once it had thrilled him. Later, grown older, hed felt it shrink him. But nownowThats right. Hes my da.

Well, sir, said Gamble. Its an honour. Then the pleasure in him dimmed. Words reached us Ashers ailing and is like to die. Is that true?

No, it bloody well aint. Its true hes not himself just this ticktock, but hell be on his feet directly. Gamble, I

The Speckled Rooster trembled as thunder boomed low over their heads. Strike after strike of lightning turned night into day. Somewhere upstairs, the same child screamed again. Gamble sucked in a quick breath, then risked himself close-pressed to the nearest window, trying to make out what was left of his storm-wracked world. The tiffa trees in the front garden were bent double and a bed of cheerful pansies lay pulped flat. Gamble moaned, a thin sound of distress, and turned as though the sight were too painful to bear.

Gamble, said Rafel, seeing him properly, at last. Feeling him. Seems to me youre an Olken with a rare touch of magic.

Gamble flicked him a wary glance. And if I am? I dont use magic to run the Rooster. Im not a Doranen, needing magic to blow my nose.

That made him smile a little, even as another crash of thunder rattled his teeth. Got no great opinion of the Doranen, have you?

Hardly lay eyes on one, save maybe twice or thrice a year, the inn-keeper replied. They buy their Saffron cattle in Dorana. No need to muddy their fine shoes in Riddleton.

Believe me, you dont miss much, he said dryly. We Olken poddle along pretty well without them, all in all. Gamble He waited for the echoes of fresh thunder to die. I need to knowwhat is it you feel?

Gambles face was troubled as he stared out at the storm. Mortal afraid, Meister Rafel. Mortal afraid.

The parlour lit up stark blueish-white as more lightning cracked through the storm-ridden village. Hard on its heels a dreadful growl of thunder. Somewhere close by, a dog howled in terror. The child wailed. Doors slammed.

Last storm I saw this bad was when the Wall came down, Gamble added. He turned his head. Despite his fear, his eyes were calm. Almost resigned. Theres no Wall to come down now, young sir. So what are we looking at? As Ashers son, do you know?

What hed learned was for the Council first. Besides, he didnt want to make this mans night any worse. Not for certain, Gamble. Wish I did.

A muscle leapt along the innkeepers tight jaw. As though he heard the liebut chose not to challenge it. And are you afraid?

There seemed little point in lying about that. Aye, sir. Im frighted shitless.

Oh, said Gamble, and looked sorry hed asked. What about the Doranen? Do they know what this means? Can their magic fix things?

Remembering Rodyn Garrick and the rest of them down in West-wailing, how helpless theyd been in the face of the reefhow Arlins father diedRafel shrugged. I doubt it.

Gambles face crumpled, just for a moment. Not even Barlsman Jaffee can help us?

Another shrug. Hes praying in his chapel. I suppose thats help of a sort. So far its not made any difference butit might do. I dont know.

And your father? said Gamble. Can he get better in time to save us?

More lightning and thunder. Once the rolling booms fell silent, Rafel looked at the innkeeper. Only a fool abandons hope. This aint the greatest danger Lurs faced. That was Morg, and hes long dead. Lurs our home, Gamble. Whatever ructions weve got on our hands this time, Im going to fight for itand so will my da.

Fight with what? Gamble whispered. Sickles and spades? Theres Doranen magic at the heart of this trouble, Meister Rafel. How do us Olken fight that? Its not our way.

The truth of Gambles words struck him hard, like hammer to anvil. Olken earth magic didnt start this. Couldnt finish it. Only Doranen magic could undo the damage here. Except there wasnt one spell Durm had left behind him that might help them now. If there was, Da would have used it already. And since he hadnt

Jervale have mercy. Dont say Rodyn Garrick was right. Dont say our only hope can be found in Lost Dorana.

Cause that meant Fernel Pinttes expedition was the kingdoms last chance. It meant Lurs fate was resting in Sarle Badens hands. But would Baden and his mage cronies even care? He didnt think so. They had no love for Lur or the Olken. They cared only for the Doranen. And GooseGoose could never stand up to them and demand that they help Lur. Neither could Pintte, though the fool fancied himself some kind of authority. Theyd get ridden over roughshod. Shoved aside. Ignored.

Thats even if theyre still alive.

Bitterness galled him. Self-contempt. Despair. As he stood beside the Roosters innkeeper and watched the storm rage, unabating, he lashed himself just as hard.

I never shouldve let Da talk me out of going with them. I let him treat me like a sprat and now it looks like Lurs going to pay the price.

He left Riddleton at daybreak. The storm had blown itself out just before the sunrise, leaving behind it wreckage and ruin. Downed trees. Smashed cow byres. Scattered straw thatching and roof tiles shattered in the streets. Sorry he couldnt stay and help the stunned folk of Riddleton put their battered village to rights, desperate to get home, he kicked Firedragon into a canter and let the horse leap the felled tree-trunks and piles of gutter-trapped debris.

Dead cattle littered the fields, the poor beasts struck by lightning. Dismayed farmers wandered among them, counting their dreadful losses, their faces pale and drawn in the glowering light. The sky was still clotted with rain-filled clouds, gauzy tendrils drifting low enough to trail through the treetops. The air was so damp Rafel thought he could wring it like a wet cloth.

Hardening his heart to the suffering because he couldnt help them, he urged Firedragon into a gallop.

Hours later, with the stallion near to dropping beneath him, feeling like he could drop from the saddle himself, he passed through the Citys open gates. Home. Hed go home to the Tower first and then

Rafel! said the City guard on duty. Biddle. They played knuckle-bones together at the Bear. Can you hold? Ive orders to send for Captain Mason on your return.

Mason? Why? Seized with sudden fear he nodded. Nudged Fire-dragon out of the way and sat waiting, silent, unseeing, as Biddle sent a runner to the Guardhouse. Mason arrived a short time later, on foot and running and hardly out of breath. A fit man, and a good one.

What is it? Rafel demanded. Captain, is it

No, no, Mason said hastily, standing close by Firedragons steaming shoulder. Your fathers not dead, Rafel. Its the Councilit wants you urgently. Theres word of a sort from Pinttes expedition.

Rafel felt his heart leap. Theyre alive?

Yes, said Mason, sorrowful. But the words not good. Youd best prepare yourself.

Goose. Whats happened?

Mason frowned. By rights the Council should

Leaning down, he took hold of the captains wiry shoulder. Please, Mason. Goose Martins my best friend. If hesif hes hurt

We dont know anyones hurt, said Mason with rough sympathy. But theres trouble. Barlsman Jaffee says theres been some kind of attack.

An attack? Rafel stared at him, letting go. Whos attacked them? Twenty years the Walls been gone, we aint heard a peep from anyone. So who

I dont know, Mason said grimly. I dont want to think about it. Weve enough trouble of our own right here. The notion theres someone skulking over the mountains, intent on doing us a mischief He stepped back. Ive sent word to the Council youre home. Theyll be gathering. You should go.

Rafel straightened. Yes. Thank you, Captain.

Rafel

No, sir, he said, not needing the question asked aloud. The news aint good out there, either.

And he rode away, leaving Mason speechless and troubled behind him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

A scant hour later, slouched beside one of the Council chamber windows, a dull pain throbbing behind his eyes, Rafel found himself sorry he never found the warspells that Da used to defeat Morgs demons. He could surely use them to bring these fools to their senses.

Whose bright notion was it, asking Arlin to come? Bet theyre bloody sorry now.

Lord Garrick was haranguing the Council, Doranen the target of his ire as much as any Olken. The offended councilors brangled over the top of him, hands waving, spittle flying. After learning the truth of the Home Districts, and the message theyd received from the expedition, the chamber stank with fear and nobody was attempting to impose order on the meeting. Not Shifrin, not Mayor Stott, not even Wheezing Barlsman Jaffee. And this time Pellen was nowhere to be seen.

rank cowardice! Arlin was shouting, one fist pounding on the council gallerys wooden railing. We cannot sit on our arses and do nothing! Sarle Badens only hope lies with us sending help! We cant abandon him.

Typical bloody Arlin. Not a word to say about Lurs strife. All he cared for was saving Doranen livesand the sound of his own voice.

Herrick Grey, Meister of the Tanners Guild, lumbered out of his chair. Convenient how you forget Doranas mayor is endangered with Sarle Baden, Lord Garrick, along with five other good Olken. Your fathers son, you are. Hed be proud to see it.

Arlins face darkened dangerously. Do not presume to speak to me of my father. Not in this place, where his murderer is made welcome.

Now Jaffee roused. Da always said the man was a doddery ole dimster, not a patch on fiery Barlsman Holze, but it seemed the kingdoms dire predicament had finally spurred the man to decisive action.

Better now than never, I spose. I just hope it aint too little, too bloody late.

Lord Garrick, please, said Jaffee, angrily pained. You cannot continue to make such accusations against Rafel without you

And if you do not send help to Sarle Baden, said Arlin, trampling Jaffee without hesitation or shame, that will be murder too. Richly clothed, extravagantly jewelled, doing his best to intimidate with wealth, he glared at his unruly audience. And this Council has winked at murder long enough.

Elderly Jaffee creaked to his feet, his eyes pouched and bloodshot. Hed grown gaunt these past weeks, prayer and worry stripping him to the bone.

My friends, he said, arms raised, shuffling around to look his outraged and protesting fellow-councilors in the eye. The kingdom looks to us for leadership. We cannot permit our fears to overtake us, or let ourselves be distracted by a sons natural grief.

As the clamour slowly died down, Rafel tipped his aching head against the window-frame. Grief was one thing. Grief he could understand. But Arlin wasnt grieving. Or not only grieving. Arlin was set to choke himself on hate and the desire for revenge.

He wont be happy until I say it was murder. He wont be happy till Das dead and Im rotting in the Guardhouse or worse.

With the chamber almost hushed, Jaffee turned back to Arlin. Lord Garrick, I tell you plainly: this Councils patience is at an end. You were asked here out of courtesy, because Lord Baden is a close personal friend and his expeditionin parthonoured your fathers dream of

Really? said Arlin, scathing. I thought I was asked here so you could beg me to do what Rafel has confessed himself and his vaunted father incapable ofsaving Lur.

Lord Garrick, youre an arrogant pup, said Speaker Shifrin, and banged his gavel in a warning. Mind your manners or youll be asked to leave.

Rafel shoved away from the window, the dull pain behind his eyes sharpened suddenly to a spike. Stirring in the chamber air, a sizzling tang of power. The hair was standing up on the back of his neck. Jaffee felt it too, and the other Doranen.

Arlins rage was getting the better of him, and fast.

Lord Garrick! Jaffee said, with surprising command. Control yourself. Magic is forbidden in the Council chamber, on pain of dire retribution. Not only is this place warded, so you would be severely harmed, the penalties imposed would see you ruined to begging. Is that how you would honour your father?

For a moment Rafel thought Arlin was mad enough to ignore Jaffee, ignore common sense, and invite his own destruction. He held his breath.

Go on, then. Do it. Destroy yourself, Arlin. I dont bloody care. Im sick to death of seeing you everywhere I turn. Im sick to death of you trying to destroy me.

Arlin breathed hard, like he was running a race. Fingers fisting and unfisting, jaw clenched hard enough to break most of his teeth, he glared around the chamberand the councilors glared back. The City guards by the closed double doors took half a step forward, ceremonial pike-staffs at the ready. Jaffee shook his head, and they reluctantly stepped back.

Lord Garrick, said the Barlsman, sounding tired to dropping. Is it not tragic enough that beyond these four walls our beloved kingdom is tearing itself apart? Must we in here tear ourselves apart with it? How can we hold on to any hope if we do?

Hope? said Arlin. The faintest hint of gold shimmered around him, power on the breathless point of explosion. Did you not hear your precious Rafel? Did you not pay attention to your Innocent Mages son? There is no hope. Not in this weeping land. Lurs only chance of survival lies in the finding of Lost Dorana and its wealth of ancient magic. Help must be sent to Sarle Baden, so his quest does not fail. I must be sent to him. I should have gone in the first place. If I had

You could have made a difference? said Jaffee. Could have saved the expedition from whatever mischance has befallen it? Lord GarrickArlin The Barlsman shook his head. Such youthful bravado does not

Bravado? Arlin sneered. Trust me, Jaffee. Not a man or woman in this chamber knows who I truly amor what I can do. His gaze flickered sideways. Ashers son is not the only powerful mage in Lur. And if this Council lacks the courage or the will to send me where I am sorely needed, then I shall leave it to perish in a windstorm and go alone, without its blessing.

Stabbed with pain, Rafel shook his head. Sink me bloody sideways. This has to be a dream. Whether or not Rodyn Garricks son was what he claimed, one thing couldnt be argued. Arlins right, he said loudly. There aint no answer here for what ails us.

Rafel? said Barlsman Jaffee, disbelieving. You agree with him?

Hed rather dance naked through the streets than say it again. The only hope we ever had was the Weather Magic. And Da He caught his breath. Careful now, careful. What they dont know cant hurt him or me. He could feel Arlins knifepoint gaze, pricking him. Like he told you before. Its gone, and it aint coming back.

And that was the unvarnished truth, at least.

Councilors, you promised youd believe me when I told you what I felt. Thats what I felt. If there is magic to save us, we aint going to find it in Lur. If its anywhere its out there somewhere, across Barls Mountains.

Silenced, Jaffee exchanged a look with Speaker Shifrin and Mayor Stott, then sank back into his chair and lowered his head to his handseither in prayer or defeat. The rest of the Council buzzed like a tipped-over beehive.

Glancing sideways, Rafel saw Arlin still staring. His impulse to obliterate with magic mastered, now he was thrown a little, suspecting he was being mocked.

Dont worry, Arlin. The only fool in here is me, for putting my hand up to get tangled with you. Cause if you are going over the mountains, I know one thing for certain sure. You aint going alone.

For while Lur might need himGoose needed him more. And he wasnt about to abandon his best friend twice.

Oh, Mama. Mama, youre going to skin me.

Councilors, we need another expedition, he said, raising his voice above their consternation. We need to go after Lord Baden and the others. And if we cant find themor ifif He paused, willing his hammering heart to ease. Aint no getting around it. Lur needs that lost magic. One way or another, weve got to find it and bring it back before the kingdoms done tearing itself apart. Me and Arlin can

What? said Arlin, with a startled laugh. No. If its Lost Doranen magic thats required then this is Doranen business and none of yours. As a Doranen I tell you plainly, Rafel: youre not welcome in our lands.

Never mind him, never mind! Rafel shouted at the Olken councilors, bellowing their offense. Shut your bloody traps, the lot of you!

As they fell raggedly silent he turned back to Rodyn Garricks ignorant, hate-blinded son.

Arlin, dont be pig ignorant. There aint no way you can tell which bits of that ancient Doranen magic are needed to heal the damage done to Lur. But I can.

Arlins lip curled. So you say.

Thats right. Cause you aint the one as can hear the earth screaming. You aint the one with Lurs pain bubbling in your blood. And you aint

What I aint, said Arlin, pale with rage, is going anywhere with you. If you think Ill trust my life to my fathers murderer then youre the fool, Rafel.

He shrugged. Fine. Then you can stay behind and Ill take another Doranen with me. He looked at the Doranen mages clumped on their side of the council chamber. So? Whos game, eh? Youre sick and tired of the Olken hero, Asher? Then find a hero of your own and let him do what my da did. Risk everything for Lur.

This time the Doranen councilors silence was uneasy. Every gaze avoided his. And not one of themnot oneoffered to chance him or herself. Offered any kind of help at all. Fear had them by the throats and they werent about to fight it. He tried to understand, to forgive and couldnt. He felt his own power stir, his own shimmer of rage.

You bloody Doranen, you make me sick! I cant abide Arlin Garrick, poxy, arrogant shit that he is. But hes still worth more than any five of you fancy mages tied together. And you Olken, who ought to be climbing all over each other to save Lur? You make me sick too. Why aint you speaking up with me? Its our home and you wont fight for it?

And now the silence was full of shame, and anger, and sullen resentment. Face suffused dark red, Shifrin shoved out his chair. Have a care, Rafel, he growled. Any respect youre shown in this Council chamber comes to you by way of your father. And it has a limit.

Like your courage? he retorted. Forget about finding Lost Dorana, if it frights you too much. What about Goose and the rest? What about Fernel Pintte? You dont reckon we ought to help them?

Shifrin banged his fist on the Speakers table. We dont even know if theyre still alive!

And you dont bloody know they aint!

Breathing harshly, Shifrin shoved the blue shard of circle stone towards him. Then why dont you find out, Rafel? Try reaching Pintte yourself, if youre so sure were cowards, and useless.

It was a challenge he couldnt ignore. Not only cause Arlin Gar-rick was stood there, smirking, but cause if he didnt then hed lose any shred of authority he had. Lose with it any hope of getting over the mountains and finding Goose. So he stepped up to Shifrins table and laid both hands on the blue crystal.

Intense cold. Searing heat. His heart raced, pumping his magic-scalded blood faster and faster. And then a wave of overwhelming dread. Terror that tried to drop him dead where he stood. Pinttes fragmented message, booming through his skull. Danger. Help us. Not alone. But when he tried to find Doranas mayor, the fool whod sunk so many in Westwailing, he found nothing. Felt nothing. Heard nothing but the lingering echoes of horror trapped in blue crystal. He snatched his hands from the circle stone, trying not to retch.

You see? said Shifrin. Theres nothing there. No-one to reach. Theyre gone, Rafel. Most likely dead. And you want us to throw more lives after them? Barl forgive us, your father was right. It was folly to send those men over the mountains. This Council wont approve a third expedition. Especially not when youre talking of finding Lost Dorana. Are you mad? That fabled land fell to magewar centuries ago.

You dont know that for certain sure, Shifrin, he retorted. Youre only guessing, cause you dont want to take the risk.

Shifrin pounded the Speakers table again. I dont want to see good men die for no reason, Olken or Doranen. Any death would be a waste.

Speaker Shifrin is right, Barlsman Jaffee added. It would be nothing short of wickedness to send anyone in Sarle Baden and Fernel Pinttes misguided footsteps. I know your friend went with them, Rafel. You have my condolences for his loss. But

You aint asking me, Barlsman. Im bloody offering.

And your offer is declined, Shifrin snapped. Yours and Lord Gar-ricks. Rafel, how can you even think of abandoning Lur now? Weve got storms raging unchecked across the kingdom and the dregs of magic in the earth creating havoc. Youre needed here. With your father helpless in his bed, and Barl alone knowing if hell ever leave it, youre the only Olken we have gifted with the Doranen touch. You might be Lurs only hope of surviving.

He nearly said, No, I aint. You got Deenie at a pinch. But he swallowed the words just in time. Letting that slip would nigh on ruin Deenies life. Mama would never forgive him.

I told you, Shifrin, I cant help Lur. I cant stop the storms. I cant heal the earth. And this time things wont right themselves. So we have to try something else, something desperate, or I promise you, I swear it, Lur wont survive.

Frighted murmuring from the Council. Sickened looks exchanged between Shifrin and Jaffee. Lurs powerful men, with no more power now than spratlings.

Whatever happens, if I die doing this, aint no blame will fall on you, he added. Ill sign a paper before I go, saying how it was my idea and you tried to stop me and I wouldnt listen. Ill happily do that. And I wont say anyones got to come with me. Ill go alone. Might be better that road. But

Arlin snatched him by the sleeve and pulled him around. You think you can decide who will or wont do this? I am not bound by your petty pronouncements. I am a Doranen mage, and I will claim my heritage and birthright without seeking your permission. Without you. I will

Be bound by the decision of this General Council! shouted Speaker Shifrin, slamming his gavel so hard it nearly broke. As will you, Rafel. We will now deliberate on these weighty matters. You will be informed of our decision in due course. Until then youre dismissed. Quit this chamber at once. And do not talk of this meeting to anyone.

For a moment, just a moment, Rafel thought about arguing. Da always said the Council could talk itself to a standstill and never once find common ground to stand on. And Lurs timeGooses timewas fast running out.

Rafel, said Barlsman Jaffee gently. Go to your father. He needs you, my boy and so does your mother.

And that was playing gutter dirtybut it was also true. He turned on his heel and walked out, not looking at fuming Arlin Garrick as he passed him. The guards opened the double doors as he approached. He thanked them with a curt nod and a strained half-smile, and made his way to the antechamber beyond.

Rafel! Stop! Dont you walk away from me!

And that was Arlin, of course, who lacked the sense of a drunken flea. Chasing after him like he had the right to bark orders. Halfway down the corridor leading to the outside world, and sorely needed fresh air, he spun about.

Leave me be, Arlin. I aint of a mind to chat just now.

Arlin waved an impatient hand. I want

I dont care what you want. So unless youre looking to get dumped on your arse a second time, leave me be.

Arlins slender fingers clenched, as though they ached to strike or strangle. Raw power crackled the air around him. Lost Dorana is none of your business. Ill not permit you to

Rafel brought up his fist. Ignited the cauldron of magic inside him and let glimfire burst from his blood. Flickering flames danced over his white knuckles.

Arlin, you get older but no bloody wiser. Dyou remember Westwailing?

Arlin smiled, fierce and feral. Blew on his glimlit handand blew it out. You dont frighten me, Rafel. You never have. You never will. And you will never cross those mountains.

Hed die before hed show Arlin he felt even the smallest bit impressed. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he shrugged. Aye, well. Well see about that, wont we?

Then he turned again, and walked away.

Rafel, said Charis, standing in her open doorway. She was wearing a white apron over a yellow blouse and green skirt, and her dark hair was tied back under a yellow scarf. Flour dusted her hands, her cheek, the tip of her nose. She looked flustered. Beautiful. Youre back. When did youwhyareyou

Broad-brimmed hat in his hands, he smiled at her, tentative. I put Firedragon in your stable. Hope you dont mind.

What? No, no of course not, she said. Rafel, what are you

I stopped by to see Pellen. And let the Council stamp about that all they bloody like. I dont care. Is he here?

The surprised pleasure died out of her eyes. Papa? Why do you need to see Papa?

For so many reasons, he couldnt answer. Its complicated, Charis. And its important. He put on his best wheedling voice. Please?

Beneath the smudges of flour, her cheeks tinted pink. I dont know, she murmured. Hes awful weak, Rafe. Her fingers tightened on the edge of the front door. It might be best if you come back another time. I cant have him upset. I cantI dont Her voice broke, and she stared at him in mute misery.

Sink it. Please, Charis, he said, knowing he was being selfish, knowing he was using her girlish feelings for him. But this is bigger than her feelings. I aint looking to fret him, or you. I only need a little while. And Id not come bothering if it wasnt needful. I aint even been home yet. I aint seen my da. You reckon Id come here before seeing him if I didnt have to?

She shook her head, tears brimming. No, of course not. Letting go of the door, she and stepped back. But Rafel, when I ask you to leaveyou have to leave. Dont wheedle me then.

I wont, he said, stepping over the threshold. Not unless I have to. So I can go up?

Yes, go up. Her hands twisted in the apron. Hes not long had his supper. Hes still awake. But Rafel

He paused on the staircase and looked down at her. Dont you trust me, Charis?

Hes all I have, Rafe, she said, as the brimming tears fell. And Kerril says I wont have him much longer. If youif you feel the smallest kindness for me youll remember that. When youre talking your important mage business youll remember it.

So she didnt trust him. At least not altogether. She knows me too bloody well, thats the problem. Ill be quick as I can. Only

Now her fingers were clutching the staircase newel-post. What?

Youre so busy seeing him a sick man, you forget Pellen Orrick lived his life doing right by Lur. He wont be sorry to see me. Hell be glad I came.

Forget? Tears banished by anger, Charis glared at him. You think to school me on my own father, Rafel? It seems Arlin Garricks right after all. You are as arrogant as any Doranen.

He shrugged. Meek men dont get much done in the world, Charis.

And he kept walking up the staircase, feeling the heat of her stare scorch his back.

Rafel! said Pellen, as he tapped on the open chamber door. So, youre home again. Good. Well, dont just stand there. Come in. Have a seat.

But he couldnt move. Was nailed to the floor at the sight of Das friend. Only five days since hed seen him in the Council chamber, but so much had changed. Pellens face was faded blueish-grey, all its flesh consumed by fever. His dark hair was fever-bleached too and cropped to stubble, showing the vulnerable shape of his skull. Just like a babes. Even covered by a nightshirt it was clear hed languished to skin-and-bone, worse even than Jaffee.

What? said Pellen, raising an eyebrow. Didnt Charis tell you Im dying?

Hed come here seeking advice. Or maybe permission. Hed not thought to be struck dumb and close to tears.

A small, wry smile curved Pellens lips. So I do look worse than your da. I should be sorry to hear it, but Im not. This is a race Im happy to win, Rafel. Youd best tell me how hes doing today. The truth, mind. No coddling.

Rafel cleared his throat. There were tapers burning by the bedside, soaked in some kind of healing incense. Kerrils doing. She had them burned in Das chamber, too. He never noticed them making a difference, but nobody wanted to cross Lurs best pother.

I dont know, he muttered, the sweet smoke tickling his nose. I aint been home yet.

Days on the road and youre here instead of with your father? Whats the matter with you, Rafe?

I got called to see the Council, urgent.

Oh, said Pellen. Then he jerked his chin at the bedside chair. Sit down, I said. Makes me tired, shouting across the room at you.

He pushed the door to and did as he was told. You got any word on Da?

Im told hes holding his own, said Pellen, cautious. But Charis and that bloody pother between them think to eke out a few more days for me by mouthing comfortable lies. Thats why I asked you how he was looking. Cant rely on what Kerril says. If I had the strength Id be insulted. He pulled a face. Mind you, I think shes gone a bit sweet on me. Silly girl. Then his clouded gaze sharpened. Speaking of sweet, youre not looking sugar plums at my daughter, are you?

What? Yes. No! Pellen

Good, said his das friend. She can do a sight better than a fowsty young buck like you.

Stung, he felt his jaw drop. Oh. So

Easy, Rafe. Im twigging you, said Pellen, wearily teasing. But shes a conversation for another day. Whyd the Council want you so urgent?

The expedition. Theres word.

Pellen snorted. And its bad, of course. The fools. A pity heeding your fathers gone right out of fashion. So, theyre all dead?

Weary himself, and worried, he felt his belly clutch with anger. Pellen

Sorry, Rafe. Reaching out, Pellen patted his knee. It slipped my mind. Goose Martin. A good lad. But they wouldnt have summoned you just for that. What else does the Council want?

He slumped in the chair. The impossible.

Ah. Pellen frowned at the ceiling. So these are the Final Days your mother tried to save us from. After all we went through, prophecy got it wrong.

He sounded sad but not exactly surprised. As though hed always known things would turn out this way. Pellen No use hesitating. Best to just say it. Me and Arlin Garrick want to go over the mountains. We want to find Old Dorana, and bring back magic as can save Lur. The Councils talking on it now, but theyll say yes. Its our only chance.

And crossing the mountains, said Pellen, after a while. That your mad idea, was it?

Arlin said it first. I said Id go with him.

Bet that put a smile on his face.

He couldnt help grinning. Not really.

Rafel Pellen heaved a sigh. Nobody knows where Lost Dorana is. Its why they call it lost. You could wander for years and never find it.

I know, he said. But I cant let that stop me. Any road, leave Lost Dorana aside and theres still Goose.

Rafe

No, he said, and leapt up. I dont want to hear it, Pellen. Goose aint dead. Hes with Sarle Baden, and Badens a powerful mage. He aint dead. None of them are. In trouble, it sounds like, but notnot dead.

Pellen dragged a hand over his grey-stubbled face. What can I say to talk you out of this? Dyou want me to tell you how you shouldnt trust your life to Arlin Garrick? Because you shouldnt. Given half a chance, that young man would push you off a mountain.

Probly, he said, shrugging. So probly I shouldnt give him half a chance, eh?

Pellen growled. Its not funny, boy.

Never said it was, he replied. Pellen, I dont know what else to do. All I know is even if Goose wasnt out there somewhere, needing me to help him, Id still go. Cause Lur needs help worse than Goose and the rest of them. What I felt in the earth, out in the Home Districts what I can feel now, here with you He didnt try to hide the shudder. Sat down again, suddenly close to despair. To tears.Ive got to do something.

I understand that, said Pellen, troubled. Youre your fathers son. But Rafethat boy of Rodyns, hes

Believe me, I dont want to go anywhere with the poxy shit. But even though its Arlin, Ill still be safer crossing the mountains with him than if I went on my lonesome.

Youre sure about that? Pellen asked quietly. Because Im not.

Dont fret, he said, trying to hide his own doubt. Ive got a few tricks up my sleeve. If Arlin thinks to faddle with me, could be hell get himself a nasty surprise.

Its one thing to be confident, said Pellen, with a sharp look. Its another to be

Arrogant? Aye. So Im told.

That earned him another sharp look. I see youve convinced yourself theres no other way. But

Pellen With an effort, he calmed himself. I cant fratch at him. Hes only trying to help. I dont know if Das dying but I do know Lur is. And its Lur dying thats put Da in his bed like a wax doll.

Maybe thats true, said Pellen, frowning again. But Rafel, speaking as a father, I can tell you your father wouldnt want this for you. All he wants is his son safe and well.

He sat back. Does he? Cause down in Westwailing, when he needed help, when folk were in danger? He risked my life without thinking twice, Pellen. Back Da into a corner and hell use anyone. You know that. He used his own best friend. Killed him. So me going over the mountains to save this kingdom? Thats just being a good son, aint it?

Pellens deep sigh turned into a raw, hacking cough. Sickened, Rafel waited for the spasm to pass, gave his fathers friend water from the bedside pitcher, then waited to see if he was strong enough to keep talking.

Rafel, Pellen croaked, stranded against his bolstering pillows. Are you sure this isnt because your father denied you the last time? Because you blame him for whatever fates befallen your friend?

He shoved out of the chair again. Paced the small, sweet-scented chamber. If I dont do this, Pellen, if I dont save Lur, then every last bloody pain Da ever suffered for this kingdom? He suffered it for nowt. I cant have that. I wont have it. Lurs got to live.

Though it cost you your life? said Pellen, and dragged open his blue-veined eyelids. Your father wouldnt want that.

I dont care what he wants, he retorted. Not this time.

Well, then since your minds made up what do you want from me? said Pellen, a wheeze in his voice. An old man with his left foot stuck in the grave?

Good question. Halted at the foot of the bed, he found himself suddenly struggling for words. Da might wake up after Im gone. If he wakes up, andand youyou aint

If Im not dead? Pellen shook his head and laughed, the wheeze sounding louder. Rafel, youre bloody killing me. No, no, dont apologise. After Charis and Kerril, well-meaning as they are, your bluntness is a breath of fresh air. He sobered. Yes. Ill tell him. Ill try and make him understand. If Im not dead by the time he wakes up.

If he wakes up. The unspoken words hung between them, loud as a shout.

Thank you, he said. I surely appreciate it.

And theres nothing else youve come for? said Pellen. My blessing, perhaps?

Youre as bad as Charis. You both know me too well. I spose, he muttered. Looked up, and met Pellens sad gaze. Since I cant have Das. And Ill not get Mamas. Itd mean something, if you gave it, Pellen. Youre family.

Pellens pain-shadowed eyes washed brilliant. Barl save me, Rafel. You and Asher. Cut from the same cloth. Then he grimaced. About your mother

Shes already well fratched at me. I dont see thisll make much difference.

Dont talk tosh, Pellen snapped. Rafel, Ive been friends with your mother close on a quarter century. Right now shes beside herself not knowing who to be more afraid for, you or your father. So if youre determined to do this, youd best do it with your eyes wide open. Youd best face up to what youll be doing to her, by leaving. And to your sister.

Deenie doesnt need me, he said. Shes got Charis. But Mama He rubbed his face. I already know what shell say. She said it already, before I rode out for the Home Districts. She accused me of abandoning Da. She thought I was being reckless and selfish and cruel.

Five days since shed shouted those barbed words, and he was still bleeding.

I dont understand, Pellen. She used to be fierce. She fought as hard as Da ever did to save Lur from Morg. Why doesnt shewhy cant sheI dont understand.

People change, Rafel, Pellen said gently. Women have babies and they change. Shes still fierce. But shes trying to protect her family now. Thats what shes fierce about. Thats what shes fighting for.

Thats why I went! he protested. And its why Ill cross the mountains with Arlin. How can she not know that? How can my own mother not know

She knows, Rafe. But her instinct is to protect you. So you be kindly to her, dyou hear me? Dont you

The unlatched chamber door swung open. Rafel, said Charis, politely smiling, her eyes coldly watchful. Its been so kind of you, stopping by to see how Papas faring.

In other words, get out now. Mindful of his promise not to wheedle, he smiled at Das dying friend. It was good of you to see me, Pellen. But Charis is right, you need to rest.

Pellen beckoned him closer with one crooked finger. Rafel

He walked round the bed and bent low. Aye, Pellen?

Barl keep you safe, boy, Pellen whispered. Pulled him down and kissed his forehead with hot, dry lips. And Jervale watch over you too. You are your fathers son, Rafel. If anyone can save Lur, I think you can.

Until Pellen said it, he didnt realise how much hed wanted to hear that. Needed to hear it. Knowing that a man like Pellen Orrick believed in him

Rafel, said Charis sharply. Ill walk you downstairs.

Pellen let his hand drop, and Rafel straightened. Looking down at the man hed known as long as hed known Da, suddenly he was a sprat again, on Darrans bed. And he knew that when Charis closed the chamber door behind him hed have seen Pellen Orrick for the last time. Just as hed known, waving Goose goodbye, that

No. I was wrong about that. Ill see Goose again. I will.

Charis opened the front door so hard she nearly pulled it off its hinges. Goodbye.

Why are you fratched at me? he said, staring. You said dont wheedle you and I didnt.

No, you didnt wheedle me, Charis snapped. But you made Papa cry. And thats a lot worse, Rafel. Ill not soon forgive you that.

Cry? He wasnt

You think a man has to shed tears to be weeping? she demanded. You broke his bloody heart, Rafel, and its not strong enough. Not any more.

Silenced, he pulled a face. Broke his heart, Charis? You sure on that? Could be its another heart youre thinking on.

She slapped him. And then she kissed him, a desperate pressing of warm lips to his. Startled, he tried to kiss her back but she broke free and stumbled out of his reach.

You dont love me, she said, her eyes accusing. You never even saw me. So dont you think, just because youre leaving, dont you think you can

His lips were tingling. How dyou know Im leaving? Were you listening?

Of course I was, she said, derisive. Did you think Id not make sure you didnt upset him?

You were listening, he murmured. Slumskumbledy bloody wench. And? What dyou reckon?

I reckon youve got no choice, she said, her voice threatening to break. If things are as bad as you say youve got to go.

Shed taken off the apron and the headscarf. Before he could stop himself, he smoothed a lock of her long dark hair and tucked it sweetly behind her ear.

I saw you, Charis, he said, his voice hoarse. There was never a day when I didnt see you.

Her mouth dropped open. Now you tell me? she said, almost breathless. Now? When youre going across the mountains likely to die in a ditch in a strange land all alone? Youyousapskull. You popster. Go away, Rafel. I hate you.

And she slammed the houses front door in his face.

Women.

Aggravated, he made his way round the back of the house, rescued Firedragon from the stable, swung into saddle and headed for home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Asher lay so still he didnt disturb his swaddling blankets, but Dathne smoothed them anyway. It helped her to feel she was doing something. Helping him. Nursing him, as a good wife should. But the gesture felt pointless. He didnt know she sat beside him because hed gone far away. How could he have walked so far ahead, leaving her behind? Shed always been the leader. From the day they met shed led him where he needed to go. But then hed abandoned her. And now Rafel was abandoning her too.

Like father, like son.

Salt water stung her eyes. She blinked it away. She was tired of weeping. Tears turned her from plain to ugly and they didnt change a thing. Her husband was stupored and her son was leaving. Soon she would be alone, save for a daughter whose frights and imaginings were just one more burden. Once thered been a Dathne who would have fought against that. Who would have rejected such a bleak future and instead pummelled the present until the future changed.

I dont know where she is now. I dont know how to find her.

In the past, when shed been lost and uncertain, shed had Veira to guide her back to the path. To show her where to find her courage. Shed had Matt, as well. But her dear friends were dead and the hand that had held hers during that crushing double griefAshers handwas cold and careless of her needs. She could hold it. She did hold it. But he could not hold her hand in return.

It wasnt supposed to be like this. We saved the kingdom. We were meant to have a happy ending. We thought we had a happy ending. Now were faced with the real ending an ending that will end us.

Unless Rafel prevailed.

Can he prevail, Asher? she whispered. Or will the darkness that lies beyond those mountains swallow him, as its swallowed everyone else whos challenged it? I know hes like you. I know theres a strength and a power in him unmatched in any other Olken. But Asherlook at you. Youve been defeated. That means he can be defeated. He wants me to smile and wave him goodbye. He wants me to be proud of him. He wants that I should celebrate what hes about to do. But I cant. I cant. Hes asking me to dance on his grave before hes even buried in it.

Asher said nothing. After so many years of his brash, vibrant presence, his absence was a gaping wound. The Innocent Mage had ruled her life since she was younger than Deenie. Was woven into her fabric like a thread of gold, glittering. Her touchstone. Her lodestar. Her lamp in the darkness, leading her home.

Now hes being extinguished. And I am powerless to help him.

Despair was a grey tide, lapping at her feet.

Oh, Asher Weary, so weary, she let herself fold to his bed. Rested her cheek on his blankets and imagined his hand, stroking her hair. Imagined his deep voice murmuring comfort. Imagined her body loved by his. Remembered the thousand small ways he gave her joy and the things he did that made her frown.

Make me frown again, Asher. Give me reason to scold.

And still he did not speak to her. For a moment she was so angry with him she wanted to shriek.

You promised me. You promised. Asher, how could you do this?

His silence reproached her.

That was different, she told him. I was Jervales Heir then. I was part of the Circle, bound by oaths I couldnt break. Not even for you. And we werent married when I misled you. We had no children. I owed you nothing.

Kerril kept tapers burning in the chamber. Claimed they had a healing effect. For herself, she found them revolting. But her desperation had reached such heights if Morg himself appeared and offered to

Id listen, she whispered. I would. I dont think theres anything I wouldnt do for you. Please, Asher, come back. Deenies hurting so badly, and I cant help her. And Rafeloh, Rafel

Aching, she sat up. Threaded her fingers through Ashers lank, lustreless hair. Touched his closed eyes, his pale lips. Traced the length of his crooked nose. Once, only weeks ago, days, her lightest touch could stir him. Make him smile, and kiss her. And now she might as well be touching a marble effigy.

But she couldnt afford to let herself think about that. She had something particular to say. Something to ask. A question she couldnt leave unanswered.

Jervale alone knows what dangers our son will face, she said, forcing herself to fold her hands in her lap. And he might have power, my love, but power wont be enough. Should I She swallowed, feeling the heat of terror rise in her throat. Asher, should I give him Barls diary?

She wanted to. Jervales mercy, she wanted Rafe to absorb every last warspell in that book and arm himself to the teeth against whatever was waiting beyond the mountains.

We know hes strong enough to wield those magics. You made sure of that in Westwailing. And we cant let him leave this kingdom withoutwithout doing all we can to protect him. How could we do that? Were his parents, Asher. Grown man or not, Rafes still our child.

Sometimes Asher breathed so lightly her eyes tricked her into thinking he wasnt breathing at all. She held her own breath, waiting to see his chest rise waiting to hear that faint sighing of air as it fell

Asher, she said, as he breathed, should I give him the diary?

And as though hed spoken, she heard his answer.

No.

No. Loving Rafel wasnt reason enough to reveal this last secret. The diary had to stay hidden. Because Doranen like Arlin Garrick must never learn of its existence. Once released, the warspells couldnt ever be called back. And there were other magics written there, that must never see the light of day. Because

Because he could use it to find the way to Lost Dorana. And once there, he might discover magics that make the warspells look safe. I cant risk it. Whatever dangers Lur faces now, theyre nothing compared to unbridled Doranen magic. Asher would never forgive me if I endangered this kingdom. And Id never forgive myself if I put Rafe in harms way. If he cant find that lost, forsaken countrythen hell come home again. He will.

She felt sick. In protecting her child, in denying him what he needed for his self-imposed task, she was also betraying him. He believed so hard that what he planned to do was right. Was what his father would want. Was somehow hishis duty.

We did that to him, Asher, she said, staring into her husbands beloved, secret face. The Innocent Mage and Jervales Heir between us we made our son think hed be shown wanting if he didnt throw his life away for Lur. Shame on us. Shame on us.

Asher said nothing. She took his silence for assent. Felt the hot tears spill, and meander down her face. It was the only warm thing about her. She was so cold. And brutally alone. As a young woman, as the Heir, shed learned to accept that her life must be solitary and would likely remain so. And then Asher had come and turned belief inside out. Shattered acceptance. Dared her to daring. Shed broken the rules. Broken his heart. Broken her own heart. And yet theyd mended. Made a life. Made children. Found joy. Found peace.

But peace, it seemed, was nowt but illusion. Joy was fleeting. Children left. And the man she loved more than peace and joy, more than life, was broken againand she couldnt mend him.

Beyond the hushed chambers uncurtained window the night sky was filling with clouds. Another storm brewing. Lurs pain taking form. In the earth, in her blood and bones, she felt its vicious echoes. But that pain was dull. Her pain for Asher was sharp.

I am in my own death throes. If he dies so do I.

Stranded in her chamber, curled up on her bed, kept dull and quiet with Kerrils possets, Deenie felt the storm break like glass shattering in her blood. Its violence rushed through her, scouring her clean of herbs and conjured apathy. Whimpering, she pressed her hands to her temples to hold in the hurt. It did no good. Every beat of her heart pumped it through and through her shaking body. Like glass, Lur was breaking.

Am I breaking with it?

She wasnt a child any longer, to run crying to Mama. There was no comfort there anyway. Mama was almost empty these days, all the fight poured out of her. Shed spent her whole life fighting and now she was tired.

Im tired too. Im tired of feeling things nobody else can feel. Im tired of not being believed. Im tired of being alone. Of being afraid. Of being a mouse waiting for the hungry cat to pounce.

Frighted and lonely, knowing shed most likely regret it, she sought out her brother. Hed been home a handful of hours but theyd not spoken yet. Shed heard him and Mama, though, shouting. Shed not drowsed her way through that. So much hurt and anger, pins and needles in her heart. Theyd shouted about him leaving again. About Da, and Barls Mountains. About Goose and the others whod gone away and werent going to come back. Because she couldnt help either of them, shed stuffed her fingers in her ears.

Rafe was in his privy chamber, hunched in the window-seat reading an old, tattered manuscript. Standing in the doorway, she waited for him to notice her.

Go away, he said, not looking up. Im busy.

That manuscriptit was Tollins account of his expedition, that failed. The first time shed found Rafe reading itout in the Tower gardens, where hed go to be alone and where she could always find himthey were both sprats. Nearly nine, shed been, and sure as sure he wasnt sposed to have it. Had spied on him reading bits aloud to himself, playing parts, playing explorer, then crept away before she could betray herself, giggling. But he wasnt a sprat now, and neither was she.

Rafe, she said softly, inching her way acrosss the carpet. Do you really think Tollins records will help?

I said go away, he muttered. The chambers glimlight sputtered, throwing shadows every which way, echoing the earths ceaseless unrest. Dont make me make you.

But she persisted, because his threats didnt scare her. Even with all that power in him, straining to burst loose, churning in his blood like the whirlpools down in Westwailing. He was her brother. She could never fear him.

The others wouldve seen that manuscript, you know. Goose and Fernel Pintte and Sarle Baden. If it didnt help them, I dont see it helping you.

An exasperated sigh hissed between his teeth. Deenie And then he let his head fall back against the wainscoting. How did you know Im going? Were you listening too? He pulled a face. Bloody girls.

I wasnt listening, she said crossly, because the way he said it meant something sneaky and sly. I heard. You might think on keeping your voice down if you want to talk secrets on the stairs.

Ha. Right.

The thought of him leaving was like knife blades sliding under her skin. Rafe do you have to do this?

And now he shifted his gaze to meet hers. Aye.

If hed shouted at her, like hed shouted at Mama if hed rolled his eyes, tried to make it a joke if he hadnt just looked at her, so serious, so resigned

I cant fratch at him. I cant.

Trembly, she dropped onto a handy footstool. Rafe. So that manuscript. Did you pinch it from Da? That time you did the really tricky magic, remember? Is that when you pinched it?

That was years ago, he said, letting the worn parchment slide onto his lap. What does it matter now?

It didnt. Of course it didnt. Cept he was going away and they hardly ever talked. I know, but She chewed her lip. Did you?

What if I did? he said, looking out of the window where the rain was pouring and the sky flashed with lightning. Who you going to tell?

Nobody. I just wanted to know. That tricky magic. Did you make it up?

She watched a memory play over his face. Watched some small, secret pleasure ease the strain in his eyes. Sitting so close to him, almost close enough to touch, she could feel his woken power burn. Like a bonfire, flames leaping, licking her with heat.

He nodded. Aye. I made it up. His gaze flicked sideways. Thats a secret.

When was the last time hed trusted her with a secret? When was the last time theyd sat together like this, so cosy? The journey home from Westwailing. Those few moments shed rested her head on his shoulder. And before that? She couldnt remember. They werent close. They never had been. And yet she could feel him, like the blood in her veins.

You been to see Da yet?

In a finger-snap, like magic, his pleasure froze into pain. Aye.

And did you feel it? she said, heart thudding. Whats in him? Please tell me you felt it this time, Rafe. I dont want to be the only one who can feel it.

Sink me, he swore. Deenie

Please, Rafe, dont shout. Everythings awful already, dont shout.

He tossed the manuscript aside, slid out of the window-seat and thumped to his knees on the carpet in front of her. Took her by both shoulders and shook her. Not hard, not to hurt her. He was trying to change her mind.

Deenie, youve got to stop this, he said, so earnest. No, I dont feel any blight in Da. And you dont, neither. Youve got yourself stirred up, is all, the way you did when we were sprats. Dont you remember how it was? Youd wake yourself screaming in the night, pointing at ghosts and ghoulies no-one else could see. Youd swear upside down they were real, but they never were. They were just bad dreams. This aint no different.

That time Da dreamed the warbeasts, she retorted, and knocked his hands aside. That was real.

That was one time, said her brother. You were right once, Deenie. And never again. You cant

She scrambled to her feet, tipping the footstool on its side. Shut up, Rafe. Just cause you did some clever magic down in Westwailing you think no-one else can be special? Is that it?

No. But

I aint a sprat now, she said, glaring. And I bloody well aint dreaming. Why wont you

Can Pother Kerril feel it yet? he demanded, and stood. Best pother in the kingdom, she is. Cured folks as were gasping their last. Whats she say, Deenie?

She felt a single tear snail its tickling way down her cheek. I dont care what Kerril says. I feel things, Rafel. Thats what I do.

He stared at her, silent. Outside, the thunder boomed. Lightning lashed the sky. I know, he said at last. Its just I want you to be wrong.

Dont you think I want to be wrong? she whispered. Dont you think Id give anything to be wrong?

And then they both jumped, startled, as a deafening clap of thunder crashed overhead. All the glimfire blinked out, plunging them into darkness.

I got it, said Rafel, and reignited every lamp. Were fine, Deenie.

No, were not. Oh, Rafe, do you feel as awful as I do? She pressed clenched fingers to her chest. Im allbrokeninside.

The earths pain was in his eyes, bright as shattered glass. Me too.

Its going to be bad like this, over the mountains. Probly its going to be worse.

I know. Deenie

Im not saying dont go, she said quickly. I know you have to. Only dont try to pretend you aint afraid. If you stop yourself feeling fear, you might stop yourself feeling other things, Rafe. Things that could keep you alive.

Like what? he said. Fratched and grudging, yes, but at long last listening.

She wanted to lie, but she couldnt. I cant tell. Lurs screaming so loud it makes my head spin.

Beyond the chambers window rain hammered the already hammered Tower gardens. More thunder rumbled, marching somewhere distant. Probly over the Flatlands. That felt about right.

A big bloody help you are, he said, scowling. He looked like Da. If youre going to witter warnings at me, Deenie, witter something I can use.

I wish I could, she said. But I dont know how to save you, Rafe. I dont know how to save anyone. Or Lur. All I can do is feel smashed to pieces.

He was her big brother and he loved her. Not easily, she knew that. His love was well-peppered with impatience. Her fears had always gritted him, like sand in his boots just as his brash boldness always made her feel small. But he hugged her now, adrift on the carpet, and she hugged him back. Breathed in the sweat and horse of him, the faint yeastiness of strong ale, the sweet tint of sickroom incense. All the different smells that made him Rafe.

Hes leaving. Hes leaving. I dont want him to go.

Rafe, she said, muffled against his shoulder. In that moment knowing everything about him. Dont fret over Mama.

His arms tightened. Shes so fratched at me, Deenie. I thought she was scalded when I rode off for the Home Districts. But now Im going over the mountains His voice cracked. I reckon she might let me ride away without another word.

He was trembling. No, no, she said, holding him harder. Shes frighted for you. We both are. What youre trying to do? And with nobody to help you but that Arlin Garrick? Of course were frighted.

Rafel let his arms drop. Took a half step back. I aint getting lost, or worse, over them mountains. Ive got power and Ill use it. His eyes were fierce. Ill burn anyone as gets in my way. Im saving Goose, Im saving Lur, and Im coming back.

She didnt know if he was right. She only knew he thought he was, and that not even Mamas rage and tears would change his mind. Not even Da lying in his bed so still and pale, with the blight in him only she could feel, poisoning his veins. Rafe thought he was born for this and nothing else mattered.

You always were stubborn, she murmured, pressing her palm to his cheek. You always did what you wanted, no matter what anyone said. No matter if you were being naughty or not. She tried to laugh. And most times, Rafe, you were being naughty.

True, he admitted, and covered her hand with his. Then his wry smile faded. Deenie, Ive got things to do. I want to read that manuscript again. I want to Hesitating, he let his hand drop. Ive got some thinking as needs doing.

He wasnt telling her the exact truth. There was a sudden tartness to him, like the scent of fresh lemons on a warm breeze. Probly he intends on being naughty again. But since she had no hope of stopping him, best she be gracious.

Its all right. How long before the Council gives you formal leave to go?

Im not sure, he said, shrugging. But Ill wager not long. He looked out of the window at the still-blustering storm. Cause Lur aint got long. You and me know that, if nobody else does.

True, she said quietly. Lucky us, eh? She tried to smile. Dont work too late. You need your rest.

Deenie

Stopped halfway to the door, she turned. Yes?

There were tears in his eyes. Tears. And he looked so young. So vulnerable.

What, Rafe?

He shook his head. Nowt. Nowt. Never mind me. Off you go.

She closed the chamber door behind her, and went downstairs to the kitchen to see if Meistress Watt would let her dabble her hands in some pastry, or something else as might need baking. Maybe that would ease her troubled heart.

But she doubted it. She couldnt imagine feeling untroubled ever again.

As the door shut behind his sister, Rafel breathed deeply a few times. Waited until all he felt was irritated amusement. Naughty, Deenie called him. And if he was, what of it? Just like hed told Charismeek men never got anything done.

Still. The word echoed in his memory, niggling, as he slipped into Das library and settled himself on the carpet in front of the trunk containing Durms secret magics. The scrolls and the diaries Da never showed him or even spoke of, even after Westwailing and the waking of his power. So much left unsaid between them. About Westwailing. About a lot of things.

The storm had passed but it was still raining. Sheets of water running down the library windowpanes. Hed conjured himself the tiniest ball of glimfire, not enough to alert Mama, who was sitting with Da three rooms round from this one. If he was careful and quiet she wouldnt know he was here. After their shouting match on the stairs he reckoned theyd both be best off not laying eyes on each other till morning.

He rose and looked at his reflection in the watery window, the glimfire shadowing him mysterious and dark. Roiling inside him, so much pain. Lurs. Mamas. Deenies. Pellen and Chariss, too. And his power churned. His woken, hungry, simmering power, that wouldnt obediently go back to sleep. That he didnt understand, and likely now never would.

Da shouldve told me. He shouldve taught me years ago how to control it. I dont know if I can do this alone.

Grief like a bunched fist struck hard, stealing his breath. Eyes burning, throat closing, fire roared in his blood. Guilt like a snowstorm turned his bones to ice. He wasnt naughty, he was wicked, to be angry with Da now, when his father was dying.

Not wanting to look at himself a single heartbeat longer, he turned away from the window and made his way back to the trunk. Dropped to sit cross-legged in front of it. Fuddled the lock, such a simple thing to do now. Easy as sneezing. Was anything beyond him? Easing the trunks lid open, he let the glimfire hover and picked up the first of Durms hoarded books.

The thing he needed most was a way to protect himself from whatever darkness lurked over the mountains. If the enemy was miasma, blight and foul enchantments, natural things turned lethal like the waterspouts and whirlpools now infesting all of Lurs harbours, then he needed some way of banishing them. Collapsing them. Or shielding himself, at least. But if his enemy was flesh-and-blood, some race of men warped and twisted by Morgs foul magics, or maybe even demons whod not perished when the sorcerer perished, then the spells he was after would have to give him the power to kill. The way Da had killed the day the Wall came down.

I wish I had those magics. I wish they hadnt been lost.

Killing with magic the thought did give him pause. Pushed to it, could he kill a man? Smash him to blood and splinters with nowt more than words? Words and the power burning inside him.

Da did it. And were the same. If it comes down to Lur and some man I dont know if I had to, I could kill.

One by one, reading quickly, he worked his way through Durms books and scrolls. He found spells of compulsion and transformation and deconstruction and repression. Magics that in the wrong hands could cause untold harm. That no Olken would have a chance of resisting, not even if they were strong in the earth like Meister Gamble of the Speckled Rooster in Riddleton. Touched by these magics, Gamble would burn like paper.

Heart pounding, Rafel saw how the spells might be used as weapons. And he needed weapons. Against the darkness, against the mountains. Maybe even against Arlin. So he snatched quill and paper from Das desk and started scribbling down the incants, scribbling any kind of magic that might be turned to his advantage.

He found five different spells for conjuring objects from one place to another. Of course he knew the Doranen did thathed seen itbut it was never an incant hed managed to pinch from Arlin, and though hed tried to fuddle it on his lonesome he could never make it work. Odd, that Da wouldve kept such commonplace spells secret. And then, reading more closely, he saw that while one conjuring spell was for objects, the rest were for the conjuring of living things, small to large. And that would explain them being locked in the trunk. Get one of these wrong

He felt himself turn a little queasy, discomfort that had nothing to do with Lurs suffering earth. But he scribbled them down anyway. Better safe than sorry.

Pity we darent risk em to get us over the mountains. Thatd save a few blisters and uncomfortable nights. Cept then folk would know this kind of magic exists and wed likely get ourselves in all kinds of bother.

The next spell he read was for seeing things over long distances. He grinned. That could come in mighty useful. And then he chewed his lip, so tempted. It was late. He was hungry. And he should really make certain these magics would work

Closing his eyes, he reached for his power. And there it was, waiting for him, dangerous and beautiful. So beautiful.

Drifting, his blood humming, he looked at the faded-ink words of the incant scrawled in Durms dashing hand. Let its lilting syllables sink into his mind. Breathed them out again, a whisper of words. A single sigil, caressing the air. Thought of the place he wanted to see

and was in the Tower kitchen. Glimlit, but empty. He could smell the spicy sweetness of fresh baking. On the wide shelf beside the window, that magical place where Rafel-the-sprat had loved to stand and sniff, a ginger cake on a pottery plate. Moist and golden brown. Still warm. A heady aroma. He heard his belly growl.

So, turning his mind to those other spells, he conjured it.

Warmth like kissing, coursing through his veins. A surge of bright power to drown Lurs constant drone of pain. Beyond the library window the constant rain poured down. Barely noticing it, stunned, he touched the conjured ginger cake with his fingertips. Felt its stickiness and touched fingertips to his tongue. The taste burst through him, like magic.

He nearly ruined himself, trying not to laugh.

Next, he conjured a sharp knife and cut himself a fat slice.

After that, his growling belly silenced, he returned to the task of sifting through the rest of Durms books and scrolls. And even though this was serious, even though there was grief and anger and fright hovering, still as his fingers scrawled spells, scrawled protections for his dangerous journey, whenever he looked up at the window he could see himself smile.

Word was sent from the Council early the next morning. A summons, no fancy folderol. No Your kind attendance is requested. Just Come now. Jaffees privy chapel.

Mama and Deenie were both still abedor not venturing beyond their chambers. Rafel left a note, saddled Firedragon and rode through the mizzling rain down to the Market Square. Gave the stallion to the Barlschapel stable lads and made his quiet way inside, where a cleric led him to Barlsman Jaffees secluded rooms.

Arlin was there already, velvet and seed pearls gleaming gently in the glimlight. At the sound of footsteps he turned in his wooden chair, his dissatisfied expression tightening to anger.

No need for cartwheels, Rafel said, with his own sneer. You aint the face I was looking for, neither.

Arlin didnt answer. Arms folded, eyes slitted, he stared stony at his knees.

Poxy little shit.

Propping himself against the nearest bit of stone wall, he lapsed into silence. Let his gaze drift about the chamber, with its plain stone floor and its plain wooden desk and chairs and the portrait of Barl in its beautiful frame. Somewhere in the greater chapel the acolytes were singing hymns. Learning, or practicing. Their sweet voices rose and fell, praising the mercy of Barl.

A short time later, Barlsman Jaffee swept into the austere chamber. He looked weary. Sleepless. His Barlsbraid was unravelling, its offering flowers fallen out. Creases and wrinkles marred his fine clerical robes.

There will be no parade, he announced curtly, taking his place behind the desk. No public business of any kind that draws attention to your leaving. Nor will you be going alone.

Arlin sat a little straighter. I beg your pardon?

Sit, Rafel, Jaffee ordered. And you, Arlin, be quiet. I have had enough deliberation and argument for the time being. Accept the Councils decision or go home to your vineyards. Its up to you. Rafel, sit.

Feeling sleepless himself, twitched with the leftovers of Doranen magic and too much ginger cake and the pain in Lur that wouldnt leave him alone, Rafel glowered at Jaffee a moment then dropped into the privy chapels other wooden chair.

I am not satisfied with this decision, said Arlin. I wish to present myself before the entire Council, not

No, said Jaffee, hands tucked into the opposite sleeves of his robe. More authority in him now than Rafel had ever seen. I speak with the Councils united voice. Accept or reject these terms as you like, Lord Garrick. No other terms shall be offered to you.

In that case, said Arlin, standing, I shall make my own arrange ments.

That would be pointless, Jaffee replied. Recall that Barls Mountains are warded. Not even you are strong enough to break them. If you wish to enter the pass at Gribley, then the official wardkeeper must clear the way. And she will do so only with specific instructions from the Council.

Rafel watched Arlin wrestle with that, amused. Then he looked at Jaffee. What did you mean, were not travelling alone?

The Council has chosen three of its own to journey with you across the mountains, said Jaffee. His lips curved in a bleak smile. It is felt your lack of friendship with Lord Garrick might prove to be a hindrance to success.

Arlin was breathing hard with temper. And I am to have no say as to who

None. Jaffees eyes were cold. Lord Garrick, we stand upon a precipice which even now crumbles beneath our feet. If you would save this kingdom, save the lives of its innocent inhabitants, do such service to Barl as makes you beloved in her eyes, I implore you: do not make this a matter of your pride and ambition. You would have tens and tens of thousands perish because you think yourself better than an Olken? Because you and Rafel cannot see eye to eye? Because you chafe against the Councils authority and restrictions? If that is true

Of course its not true, Arlin snapped. If I had no care for Lur and the lives here, would I be risking my own life?

No, said Jaffee, gentle now. Youre a good man and a brave one, Arlin, and we stand in your debt. But I urge you to set aside all personal considerations. The only thing that can matter is finding a way to save Lur and, Barl willing, the other expedition. For all your differences and difficulties, you and Rafel hold that belief in common. Let it be the start of a better, kinder understanding.

From the look on his face, Arlin wasnt anywhere near to being convinced. But he nodded. Very well.

Rafel hid his amusement. So which councilors are coming with us, Barlsman Jaffee?

Nib Hambly, Hosh Clyne and Tomas Dimble, said Jaffee. Three good men. Dedicated, strong mages He cleared his throat, abruptly uncomfortable. And unwed.

Three Olken? Arlin choked, incredulous. Are you mad, Jaffee? What use are Olken? Rafels power might be warped and unnatural but at least

Have you forgotten, Arlin? No unwed Doranen might sit on the Council, said Jaffee. Our own peoples rule, and perhaps not wise.

Then choose a married Doranen; send

Jaffee shook his head. There is no sending. No-one can be forced to this undertaking. Besides, Arlinit would seem being Doranen is little or no protection against the dangers that lie beyond the mountains. Or is Sarle Baden not the mage we believed?

And that shut Arlins trap good and tight. Rafel stood. Seems weve a mite to do, then, Barlsman. Best we get to it, cause the sooner we leave, the sooner we get the good folk of Lur off that bloody precipice. He turned to Arlin. Agreed, Lord Garrick?

Have I a choice? Arlin said sourly. Its agreed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

They had one day to ready themselves. One single, rainy day to breathe in the last they might ever see of their loved ones. Of home. Trying not to dwell on that, Rafel prepared for the arduous journey. Kept himself busy so there wasnt time to think. When he was done, his bulky pack was full of jerky, hard-baked biscuits and nuts, the kind of food that would sustain him in the arduous climb over the mountains. Two canvas waterskins. Two spare shirts. Spare socks and underdrawers. Heavy leather gloves. A talking stone like the one Pintte and Baden had taken with them, strong enough to reach the Council. Flint and striker. A canvas groundsheet. To go with the pack, he collected a stout walking stick, a knife, a coil of ropeand a sword. That prompted a grim smile. Hed had to dig through piles of mouldering relics in the old palace to find it. Swords belonged to the long-dead time of Trevoyles Schism. Cleaned and sharpened, its scabbard saddle-soaped then oiled, the weapon was a stark reminder of the dangers hed be facing.

Last, and most important, he had Tollins parchment, folded small, and the collection of spells taken from Durms secret library. They were rolled tight and tucked safely out of sight, for he didnt dare let Arlin get a glimpse of them. It would make learning them trickybut hed find a way. He had to.

The whole frantic day, he didnt see his family. Suffering, Deenie stayed in her chamber. And MamaMama stayed with Da. They didnt even share a farewell supper. The Tower was full of silence, and dread. So he ate alone, and sat alone, and used the time before sleeping to study Durms spells.

Sunrise came meanly, murky behind the low clouds. Watery light seeping to the ground, seeping between the partly drawn curtains in his fathers chamber. Brought to this terrible moment at last, Rafel sat by the bed.

Sweet air. Cool silence. Not enough words. More words than he could count. This man. This man. Who loved him. Who lied to him. Who trusted him with his life. Who put him on his first pony. Held his hand. Wiped his tears.

Da

Nowt had changed. Weeks slid by since the Weather Chamber, and nowt had bloody changed. Da just lay there, not speaking, not moving. Morning and afternoon, Kerril or Mama spooned gruel down his gullet, fed him possets and potions meant to keep him alive. He swallowed them. He didnt wake. He didnt wake now, with his cold hand held so tightly.

Eyes blurred and burning, grief like a white-hot coal lodged in his heart, Rafel leaned forward. Bent low. Da, its Rafe. Can you hear me?

Silence. Slow breathing. Beneath the warm blankets his father slept, still as a doll.

Da

Not enough words. More words than he could count.

He kissed his fathers thin, stubbled cheek and walked away.

Mama and Deenie looked so forlorn, standing in the Tower foyer. They were saying goodbye here, since his leaving wasnt public. He hugged them both, hard. Felt the depth of their fear for him racking through them, mingling with the strident pain in the earth.

Mama fixed the collar on his long oiled riding-coat, then smoothed her fingers over his hair. Be safe, Rafel. Be watchful. Trust your instincts. Her lips trembled. Come home.

He felt like a sprat again, caught out in some mischief. You do know why Im going, Mama? You know

I know, Rafe, she said. Her eyes were dry. Im proud of you.

And that nearly undid him.

Dont pick fights with Arlin, Deenie whispered, her thin arms around his waist. He cant help being a sinkin bloody fool.

Painfully smiling, he kissed her hair. He could try, the little shit. Deenie, take care of Charis for me. Uncle Pellen

I know. I will, she said, her arms tightening. Shell be here when you get back. You make sure you bring Goose back. And yourself.

He nodded. Promise. Deenie

She pulled away. Her eyes were shadowed-smeared and trickling tears. Go, Rafe. Just go.

He was right to do this. He had to do this. If Da were awake theyd be doing this together. But riding away from the Tower was the hardest moment of his life.

He joined Arlin and his fellow Olken travellers in the old palaces privy royal chapel, hardly used these days, where Barlsman Jaffee was waiting with prayers and a blessing. Couldnt help a sneer, catching sight of Rodyns son. Not even the prospect of endless toil and stark danger could prevent the new Lord Garrick from flaunting his inherited wealth. Velvet. Seed pearls. Slender gold rings. What was he thinkingthat hed dazzle the darkness beyond the mountains into submission?

Probly. Arlin really is a sinkin fool.

Done droning the daily invocation, Jaffee smudged pungent oil on the insides of their wrists so the strong pulse there could carry Barls love to their hearts. Then he folded his hands and stared down at the five of them, kneeling humbly before him.

My sons, you do a great thing, he said, his thready voice heavy with emotion. Every day of your journey will see you in my fervent prayers.

Clyne, Dimble and Hambly murmured something, being grateful. Rafel heard Arlin swallow a sharp breath. Bitterly resenting these Olken intruders. For himself he didnt much care they were coming. Could be Jaffee was right, and theyd be safer five than two. Arlin probly would be. The three of them could pull him off the poxy shit when his temper finally snapped. As for the men as individuals, well, he knew Tom Dimble from his work with Da at Justice Hall. Close to middle-age, he was. Da called him trustworthy, and that was good enough for him. Nib Hambly and Hosh Clyne, a few years older again, he knew only to nod at in the street, or propping up the bar in the Dancing Bear. Whether they chose this task, or got asked by the Council, either way they had gumption, agreeing.

And it could be worse. They could be Doranen.

Here is my final stricture, upon all of you, Jaffee added. As you climb Barls Mountains leave your former selves behind. When you reach the summit and descend into the unknown, let there be no more Doranen and no more Olken. Know yourselves only as men of Lur. Strive together for the saving of this poor, stricken kingdom, for should you fail in this task I fear all of us will perish. Barl go with you.

And the blessing was done.

Arlin had agreed to provide the large carriage that would carry them to the Black Woods village of Gribley, nestled at the foot of Barls Mountains. Waiting in the old palaces stable yard as the horses harness was checked one last time, Jaffees written instructions on what to do once they reached Gribley safe in his pocket, Rafel looked up at the grey, drizzling sky. Remembered the day, nearly sixteen years ago, when Tollin and the rest rode out of Dorana City on their big adventure.

So much excitement, thered been. In warm sunshine hed watched them ride through the Citys gates, laughing, cause even though Da had been dead set against the expedition hed not stopped Mama from taking spratty Rafe to stand with the cheering crowds. Excitement too those scant weeks ago, when Goose rode off with Fernel Pintte and Sarle Baden and those other hopeful explorers. The sun had shone in the bright blue sky that day, as well. The people of Dorana had cheered.

And today its raining, and were leaving Dorana by the back door with only a handful of folk to know. But I aint about to think anything on that.

The three Olken councilors were stood in a tight-knit group, talking together in low voices. Pale and uneasy, they flicked him glances that told him gumption or not, they werent altogether sure about what they were doing, or who they were doing it with.

And Arlin? Arlin was grousing at his coachman, complaining about something that wasnt done to his satisfaction. The coachman bore the abuse stolidly, staring at the wet ground. An Olken would need to be desperate to work for that little shit.

Sink me sideways, Da. Thisll be fun.

Dismissing his coachman back to the carriage, Arlin next lashed out at one of the old palace stable lads. Rafel hunched his shoulders, biting his tongue, as the rain dripped steadily off the brim of his leather hat and splattered the shoulders of his oiled riding-coat. He couldve stood under shelter, like the councilors, but seeing as they were about to be cooped up in Arlins carriage till long past nightfall he wanted as much fresh air as he could get. Behind the glooming clouds thunder rumbled, like giant marbles rolled over a wide wooden floor.

Firedragon, left to his own devices in a spare stable, waiting to be retrieved by one of the Tower lads, poked his head over the half-door and curiously eyed all the goings-on. Rafel stared at him, swamped by a sudden wave of affection. Swamped by fear hed never see the horse again.

And then, just as sudden, the thought of travelling all the way to Gribley in Lord bloody Garricks fancy carriage, with bad-tempered, mean-mouthed Lord bloody Garrick for company, was more than he could stomach.

Oy! he said, and marched over the slippery cobblestones to Arlin, who was still tongue-lashing the hapless stable lad. Change of plans. Im riding to Gribley.

Arlin turned. Even his travelling coat was made of the finest, most expensive leather in the kingdom. And the stitching on his gloves? That was gold thread.

What? he snapped, impatient of interruption.

You heard me, Rafel said mildly, cause staying mild with Arlin was a sure way to fratch him. I dont fancy sitting on my arse all day. Not in a carriage, any road. Im riding.

Really? Arlin looked at him. Looked at the carriage, loaded with their packs and other equipment. Looked at the three councilors, men he loathed for no better reason than they were Olken. He turned back to the lad. Send to my townhouse. Have them bring me my brown stallion.

Yes, mlord, the browbeaten stable lad murmured, and bolted.

Rafel didnt know whether to laugh or be pissed. And there was me looking forward to riding to Gribley on my lonesome. Times marching on, Arlin. We cant hang about here waiting for your horse. Weve got to be on our way before folk arrive here to start work. Besides, its a long days travelling to Gribley.

Then leave, said Arlin, looking down his nose. My animals the best-bred horse in Lur. Ill join you soon enough.

And he bloody would, too, even if he had to kill his stallion to manage it. Rafel shrugged and smiled, mildly. Suit yourself.

Leaving Arlin to fume, he asked one of the other lads to saddle Fire-dragon then crossed to the clutch of whispering councilors. Carriage is all yours, Tom. Lord Garrick and I feel like riding today.

Tom Dimble folded his skinny arms, brows pulled low. Do you, now? He sounded suspicious.

Tom Rafel shook his head. Dont be a numbskull. We aint about to leave you stranded. You know what the pass-note says. Five to travel over the mountains. If there aint five, nobody goes.

Tom thought on that. I suppose, he said at last, grudging. But Rafel, the weathers foul. Why would you want to

Ride all the way to Gribley cooped up in a carriage with Lord Arlin bloody Garrick? He snorted. I dont know, Tom. Let me think on that, why dont you?

Well Tom said, with a hint of amusement, and looked at his fellow councilors. Perhaps its not so hard to figure, at that.

And if Arlin rides, youre spared him too, he added. So were all happy, eh?

Happy, said Tom, with another look at Hambly and Clyne. His amusement vanished. Yes.

He stepped closer, and lowered his voice. Tom, you dont have to do this. Theres time to change your minds. I know the Council reckons its safer to send all of us butGarrick and I aint helpless. We can protect ourselves just fine. So if you dont want to come

Hosh Clyne, by a whisker the oldest, shook his balding head. Decisions made. We should go.

And that was that. So he nodded at the three men who didnt want to be here, who werent wanted by him or by Arlin bloody Garrick, and fetched Firedragon from his stable. The councilors loaded themselves into Arlins fancy carriage and the coachman picked up his water-slicked reins.

Mind you dont spring those horses, Arlin snapped at him. Ill see you sorry if theres one pulled muscle between themand if I find a bowed tendon when we reach Gribley Ill

My lord, said the coachman, touching his hat-brim. Theyll reach Gribley sound.

As the carriage-horses tossed their heads, restive, and Arlin glared his mistrust at the coachman, Rafel vaulted into Firedragons rain-speckled saddle. Well, Arlin, he said, his booted feet groping for the stirrups, Ill be seeing you by and by. Ride safe, now. Dont go tumbling, trying to catch up. A nice safe, steady jogthat should do it.

Arlins answer was a silent snarl. Rafel swallowed a grin. So, looked like Jaffees pious prating was nowt but a waste of breath. Arlin didnt look a mite interested in letting bygones be bygones. Not that he was bothered by that. He already had a best friend. And to save Goose hed cross Barls Mountains with the sorcerer Morg himself.

He nudged his heels to Firedragons flanks. The horse grunted, muscles bunching, then launched into a prancing trot out of the stable yard and into the puddled driveway beyond. He didnt bother looking back to see how closely the carriage followed. He didnt care.

Parades and cheering and the Citys streets lined with excited faces how would it feel to ride out of Dorana like that? Better than how it felt to be skulking away like a thief in the night, even though he knew why the Council had decreed they depart through the old palace grounds privy gates, with the sun barely risen and not a soul to see them go.

But it was a forlorn hope, that theyd keep this desperate expedition secret. Word of their going would spread soon enough. With the pain in Lurs earth a relentless, grinding ache in nearly every Olkens bones, folk were frighted and talking openly of trouble. And sooner or later, Ashers son would be missed. Councilor Hambly, being a farmercould be few folk in the City would notice him gone. But Tomas Dimble? His absence in Justice Hall would be loud as a shout. And Clynes barber shop was always full of customers, and theyd soon be wondering where their favourite barber was gone. Besides. Someone else in the Council would talk. Someone always did. That was just people.

But that aint my worry, is it? Its for Jaffee and Shifrin and the rest to lose sleep on. Ive got my own worries.

Like the sick fear that theyd acted too late and hed not be in time to save the kingdom or Goose. That even if he did return from over the mountains with everything and everyone he loved made safe, hed come home to find himself lacking a father.

Wait for me, Da. Dont you dare bloody die while Im gone.

With Arlins coachman keeping his horses in hand, and Firedragon eager to splash from puddle to puddle, he reached the rarely used palace gates with the carriage well in the rear. Not caring for that, not caring for Arlin, neither, still waiting for his horse to be brought up to him from his townhouse, he eased Firedragon to a quivering halt. Used his burning Doranen magic to swing the gates open then let loose his hold of the bit. Firedragon, so responsive, feeling his tension, feeling the muddled mess of his fears and hopes and griefs, flybucked twice, stretched his neck out, and leapt.

More than anything he wanted to let the stallion gallop unchecked to Gribley. But he couldnt. So he let Firedragon bolt a little way then gradually, regretfully, made him slow down and wait. At last the carriage reached them, wheels splashing fresh rainwater and mud, and they continued sedately, together, beneath the grey and drizzling sky.

Eventually, with palace and City lost to mist and mizzle, they turned off the Small City Road onto Black Woods Way, the narrower road that would take them into the forest and on to Gribley. Barls Mountains loomed in the distance, cloud-topped and forbidding. Just as forbidding, the spreading skirts of the shadowed, mysterious forest. Wolves lived there, and bears. Some Olken. Veira had lived there. Shed left Mama her cottage, but Mama had long ago given it to somebody else.

Now, though, they still travelled through open countryside. The day was unfolding dim and soggy, no hint of a break in the lowering clouds or misting rain. There wasnt much hereabouts but rabbits and the eagles who hunted them. Even when it wasnt raining, this stretch of Lur was seldom troubled by carts and coaches. Rafel liked this corner of the kingdom. Liked its wildness and its solitude. When they were sprats, he and Goose had played explorer out here. Under blue skies and a warm sun, frighting themselves with imaginary dangers.

Goose. He felt his guts squeeze. Dont think on him. Youre doing what you can, as fast as you can.

Hoof beats behind them, steadily gaining. He glanced round to see Arlins cantering approach. Firedragon shied. Holding the horse steady with knees and hands, Rafel looked sideways as the Doranen mage kept on cantering, alongside the carriage then past it until hed drawn level. Then he dropped his own stallion back to the steady trot that kept them bowling along towards Gribley. With the collar of his oiled coat turned up and his hat pulled low, Arlins face was almost completely hidden. He offered no greeting, no comment of any kind.

Rafel sighed. Dont see how this is going to work if we cant say two civil words to each other. Arlin, dyou reckon

I reckon you neednt concern yourself about what I reckon, said Arlin, with the swiftest of glances. The Council in its wisdom has chosen this path for us. Ill ride it because I have to. Because compared with finding Lost Dorana, where my people will at last be free of this pathetic, crumbling kingdom, my distaste for your company is not important. But that doesnt mean I have to indulge you in pointless conversation.

Days with this poxy shit? Weeks? Months, maybe? Rafel swallowed dismay. Fine, Arlin. So we aint friends, and never will be. But

Deep in the earth a soft groaning, growing louder. The dull ache in his bones grew sharp edges. Closed his throat. Nearlynearly

Hold up, he said, his belly churning. Arlin, hold up! Ignoring the Doranens protests, he reefed Firedragon round in a tight circle. Coachman, halt your team!

What are you doing? Arlin demanded as his coachman slowed the carriage. You dont give orders to my man. You dont

Shut your trap, Arlin, he said, one fist raised. His blood was turbulent, warning whispers rising swiftly to a scream. The rain kept falling but the world felt still.

And then came the tremor, bursting through the deep soil and the rocks, through the skin and bones and flesh of the kingdom. Its echo burst through him and through the Olken councilors trapped in Arlins carriage. As they cried out, and the carriage-horses plunged in their harness, as the wretched earth roiled and rippled and Arlin Garrick swore, trying to control his panicked stallion, Rafel clung to Firedragon praying hed not fall off. Leaned over the horses shoulder and vomited his breakfast onto the shivering road. Lurs pain was his pain, flowing in white-hot rivers through his veins.

At long last it stopped.

Easing himself upright, spitting bile-tainted saliva, small bonfires of pain burning behind his eyes and in his joints, he looked first to the carriageno damage, no horse injuredand then to Arlin. The Doranen was pale, his eyes slitted as he wrestled his own jittery horse to a standstill.

He spat again, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. You all right, Arlin?

Arlin looked at him blankly. Why wouldnt I be? Turning, he waved a hand at his coachman. Get that carriage moving, you fool! Well not reach Gribley before midnight if we stand about here admiring the scenery.

The coachman touched his hat-brim. Yes, my lord.

Bloody Arlin. Rafel nudged Firedragon to the edge of the road, waited for the carriage to draw level then urged the horse to keep pace with it. Tom, he said, peering inside. You fine gentlemen all dandy?

Like Arlin they were pale, but unharmed. Near enough, said Tom, next to the window. But Rafel

Their blood surely continued to sizzle, just like his. I know, he said bleakly. And you can bet well feel worse before we feel better. But we aint got a choice, eh?

Tom glanced at his companions. No, he said, subdued. No, I suppose not.

And with that sobering realisation, the journey continued.

They reached the Black Woods village of Gribley nearly six hours past sunset. Long shadows stretched across the glimlit courtyard of the villages modest inn, where the Council had arranged for them to stay the night and where Firedragon and Arlins stallion would be stabled until fetched. Brooding around them, the hushed Black Woods. Daunting above them, Barls Mountains.

As the coachman and the inns stable hands saw to the carriage, Arlin handed his stallion over to the stablemeisters care and stalked inside without a word to anyone else. Rafel tended Firedragon himself, unsaddling and grooming him, making sure hed taken no unnoticed hurt in the long ride from Dorana. When the horse was clean and settled he had words with the stablemeister, then measured Firedragons feed to his own satisfaction. Giving the horse supper, smoothing his untangled red-flame mane, he bid his private farewell. Waited until he could show his face to the world, and went in search of his companions.

He found Tom, Clyne and Hambly supping ale in the inns plain parlour. Wheres Arlin?

The councilors exchanged looks. Taking his leisure alone, in his room, said Tom, indifferent. We asked him to join us.

Waste of good breath, Tom.

Another exchanged look. Yes.

Staring at them, Rafel was uncomfortably aware that Tom and his friends didnt welcome his company. Why? Cause they had privy Council business to discuss? Or cause they wanted to discuss him? Because he made them feel uncomfortable? The reason probly didnt matter. Point was, they were sitting there waiting for him to go away.

Fine. I aint an idiot. I can take a hint.

But it didnt bode well for the rest of their journey.

Im a mite travelsore myself, he said, keeping his voice casual. A bath sounds inviting. Enjoy your ale, councilors.

Wearily climbing the stairs to his room, he considered disturbing Arlinthen reconsidered the notion. Trying to make peace with the Doranen would only be a waste of his good breath. After his bath he ate a plain hearty meal brought up to him from the kitchen, mutton and potato and carrot stewed in thick gravy, and downed three mugs of strong ale. After that he studied Durms spells until his eyes wouldnt stay open, then tumbled headfirst into sleep. Pain danced through his uneasy dreams, and he woke at murky first light unrefreshed.

Swiftly dressed, he joined Arlin and the councilors in the parlour, where they ate scrambled egg and bacon and drank tea in tense silence. Then they collected their packs and walking sticks and swordsArlin, swordless, eyed the weapons with a sneerand made their way through the deserted, rain-drizzled streets of Gribley to the villages outskirts, and the one Doranen mage living in the Black Woods.

Her cottage sat deep in the shadows of the mountains, a stones throw from the unremarkable beginning of the pass. Looking up and up the rocky, winding pathway, Rafel felt the weight of the cliffs and crags, their brooding silence, pressing down hard enough to break his bones. Felt the pain of their climbing in him as though hed already begun. Felt clammy fear, and a brutal, savage doubt.

And then he felt Arlins considering, scornful stare. That was the only encouragement he needed.

Forget it, Lord Garrick. I aint turning back.

Phena, the pass keeper, was wizened and white-haired, her thin bent body wrapped in a dark blue wool tunic. Charged with husbanding the warding hexes that prevented any unsanctioned crossing of the mountains, rumour had it she could kill a man where he stood with nowt more than a word. One look in her deep-set, pale green eyes and Rafel believed the rumour, absolutely.

So, she said, standing in her open doorway and staring her visitors up and down. Her voice was cracked with age. Five more brave fools, I see. She smiled. Welcome to Gribley.

Were on Council business, said Arlin, close to contempt even though she was Doranen. Let down the wards so we can be on our way.

Rafel flicked Rodyns boorish son a look, as Tom and the others shuffled, displeased. Arlin

But Phena wasnt offended. Youre Ashers son, she said, ignoring Arlin. Rafel. Last saw you as a babe in arms. You take after your father. Im sorry hes dying.

With an effort, he managed a polite smile. Thank you, Lady Phena. Its true hes poorly, but Im sure hell be fine. Pleaseyouve been the park keeper here for many years. What dyou know of the mountains?

Phena laughed. Many years? Yes. I was already old when Tollin and his men crossed over. I was older still when the few who survived the journey came back, walking dead men. And I was ancient when Sarle Baden ordered me to let him go by. She sniffed, staring at Arlin. Just like you, little lord. The same tone of voice. The same inflated conceit. Theyve not returned. I think its likely they wont. The mountains are hungry. Thats what I know. Another sniff. How desperate is the Council, to feed them more men?

Arlins face tinted with temper. I havent ridden all this way for a lecture. Lower the wards, woman.

Ah, said Phena, with a wrinkled-eye wink. Dyou hear him, Rafel? Dyou hear him, good sirs? I expect this is why you Olken dont have much time for us.

Rafel offered her a respectful nod. Lord Garricks not got the manners of a rutting boar, butit is true we need to be on our way.

She looked the five of them up and down again, taking in their oiled coats and their broad-brimmed leather hats and their bulging rucksacks and their long, stout sticks. The swords strapped across every back, save Arlins.

Barls mercy on you, young mages, she said softly. Though I must warn youin her mountains, mercy is hard to find.

The damp air sizzled as she ignited four scarlet sigils. Rafel felt a crawling pressure against his skin, felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Heard Arlins breath catch in his throat.

Phena raised one thin grey eyebrow. So what are you waiting for? The way is clear. Off you go.

With a smile of thanks, not looking at Arlin or Tom and the others, Rafel crossed the lowered warding

and the journey began.

Within moments of them crossing the unwarded threshold onto the pass, Arlin pushed by Rafel and took the lead. The weathered path they followed, marked with Doranen hexes to guide the way, was too narrow for anything other than single-file tramping. Rafel didnt care. He had nothing he wanted to share with Arlin, and no spare breath for conversation anyway. Glancing over his shoulder at Tom and the other two councilors, he saw theyd let themselves drift back, just far enough to suggest they were in a group of their own. Just far enough so their panting, whispered comments couldnt be overheard. Uneasy, he fixed his gaze between Arlins shoulder-blades and wished he didnt feel quite so twitched.

Are they going to be trouble? I bloody hope not.

The going was brutal tough, hexmark to hexmark, down and up scrawny, sideways-scraped gullies, over fallen trees and tumbled rocks, scrambling for purchase up sheer, rain-slippery cliffs leaving bits of skin and fingernail behind. Slowly, grindingly, the mist-shrouded village of Gribley dwindled behind and below them.

The mountains silence was oppressive. Disapproving. As he climbed, Rafel could almost believe the ancient mass of rock and soil might in any heartbeat shrug, disdainful, and toss them downwards to their deaths. Though the Wall had fallen before he was born he could feel its tattered remnants buried in its bones. Echoes of a power he could hardly begin to understand. Echoes that reminded him of what hed felt in Barls Weather map, in her Weather Chamber, so far away now in Dorana City.

And he could feel other echoes, too. The black touch of Morgs blight, that had brought her miraculous Wall to ruin. That had ruined the reef, and even now tried to ruin Lur.

The cloying darkness made the climbing so much more difficult. Especially with Arlin Garrick leading the way. It seemed the Doranen was ignorant of Lurs struggle or Morgs filthy legacy. Every time he had to stop and catch his breath, not because he was a weakling, but because what he could feel in the mountain threatened to press him flat, Arlin muttered and rolled his eyes with contempt, and never once held out a helping Doranen hand. Even Tom, Nib and Hosh looked at him askance after a while, cause they couldnt feel it either. At least not the way he could.

He was starting to think there was something to be said for being ordinary.

After nigh on ten bruising, blistering, rain-drizzled hours, stopping only twice to eat, drink and relieve themselves, with the first days light fast fading and what had been a constant drizzle threatening to turn into proper hard rain, Rafel called for a haltand the others didnt argue. Theyd reached a decent place to camp for the night. Not a cave, exactly, but a wide, shallow scoop in the mountainside that left just enough wiggle room for them to escape the worst of the weather. To pretend, on this first night in the wilderness, that they had a safe roof over their heads.

Weary almost beyond bearing, they set about collecting fallen branches for a fire. Well. Two fires, cause Arlin found his own fuel quick-smart and settled himself on his groundsheet at the far end of the miserly cave, making it clear he had no interest in anyones company save his own.

Rafel exchanged a raised-eyebrow look with Tom, then pretended Arlin didnt exist. The wood he and the councilors collected was wet, like Arlins, but that was easy fixed. Tom and the other two watched owl-eyed as he used Doranen magic to dry it enough for burning then ignited it with a single word of command.

And even though hed helped them, stopped them catching an ague from the damp and cold, he could still feel his fellow-Olkens simmering suspicions. Their reluctance to accept his mysterious Doranen power.

Sink me, Da. Reckon Im starting to understand what you were on about.

The thought startled him. Hed been so busy being angry with his father for denying him the truth of his magical potential, hed never stopped to wonder if the reason behind it had been a good one. But seemingly it was. Dispirited, his skinned knuckles stinging, an ominous shiver starting up now that theyd stopped battering their way over rocks and fallen trees, he left Tom and his suspicious friends toasting themselves by their fire at the opposite end of the cave and gathered more dead wood so, like Arlin, he could sit on his own.

Settled on his groundsheet in the middle of the shallow cave, warming at last as shadows danced over its walls and beyond its wide mouth the rain drummed harder and the last light drained from the darkening sky, he chewed his way through a mean handful of hard-baked biscuit and jerky. It wasnt enough to fill the hole in his belly but he didnt dare eat more. They might be able to eke out their supplies by hunting birds or small mountain creatures, but they couldnt rely on that hope. When the worst of his hunger pangs were placated, and his fellow Olken curled asleep by their fire, he tugged Tollins parchment from his pack and conjured a small, fitful ball of glimfire to read by.

Whats that? said Arlin.

It was tempting not to tell him. Nosy bastard. But since there wasnt much point starting a brangle for no good reason Tollins expedition account.

Arlin held out a hand. Show me.

You want something to read, Arlin, maybe you shouldve brought a book.

Youre wasting your time with that, said Arlin, his firelit eyes derisive. Thanks to the Doranen who travelled with him, our path across the mountains is hexed plain to see.

Maybe, he retorted. Maybe not. There aint no way to be sure all the hexes have held. Its been a while, Arlin.

Arlin sneered. You cant tell that Sarle Badens enhanced them?

Hes enhanced the ones weve found, he said, struggling with temper. We aint found all of em yet. Any road, theres more to getting safe across these mountains than where to put our feet, Arlin. Theres where to find fresh water once we reach the first big peak, and what bits and pieces up here we can safely eat, and

I dont need an Olken to tell me any of that, said Arlin, still sneering. Ive a far more reliable source of information.

And what would that be, Lord Garrick? asked Tom, not as asleep as hed appeared. He sat up. You know something we dont? Something that shouldve been shared with the Council?

What I share and what I keep to myself is entirely my business, said Arlin. It doesnt concern you.

It concerns me, said Tom, his voice sharp with authority. Three years in Justice Hall were standing him in good stead. It concerns all three of us, my lord. We are the Council on this expedition and you are answerable to us for everything you do.

Clyne and Hambly were sitting up now too, frowning as hard as Tom. Arlin snorted. I didnt invite your company, Dimble. And I dont feel inclined to suffer your impertinence.

Then you can suffer the end of your journey, said Tom, so stern. The Council wont be flouted, Lord Garrick. Answer the question or at first light go home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Youd think to force me down the mountainside, Councilor? Arlin laughed, the inconstant firelight warm on his still-damp hair. You fool, its not in your power.

Rafel rubbed a hand over his unshaven face, stubble rasping. Im too bloody tired for this. Maybe not, Arlin, but its in mine, he said, letting his voice bite. And Im as keen to know what youre on about as they are. Then again, Id be happy as a pig in shit to keep going without you, too. So take your pick. Either way I win.

Arlin sat a little straighter. You dare threaten me?

Bollocks, Arlin, he sighed. Why dyou have to make everything a brangle? Just tell us what youre talking on. Im pretty sure your teeth wont fall out.

Unless I punch you, and right now thats bloody tempting.

Flames crackled in the damp silence as Arlin chewed on his chances of defeating Ashers son in a fight. He had to know he was in danger of losing. Badly.

Its nothing, he said at last. An old family tale. More like a legend, really. Hardly worth mentioning. Which is why I never mentioned it.

Arlins eyes were wide, his gaze steady. Too steady. Rafel felt himself smile. He remembered looking like that when he fibbed to Darran. Or to Da. With so much magic to hide, hed had to fast become a good fibber.

Lord Garrick, I dont believe you, he said. And before Arlin could blink, or think of stopping him, he conjured the Doranens pack halfway across the cave, to his ready arms. I wouldnt! he added, as Arlin started up, ugly with rage. Or Ill freeze you where you sitand might well forget how to let you loose again.

Tom Dimble made a sound of protest. Really, Rafel, this isnt

Shut up, Tom. You want to know what hes hiding, or dont you? Tom looked at Clyne and Hambly, who shrugged. We want to know.

Arlins face was drained chalky-white. You dare touch my belongings? You dare use magic on me? I swear to you, Rafel, I swear, there will be

Whats in here, Arlin? he said, softly polite. Hefting the heavy pack. What dont you want me and Tom and these fine sirs to know of?

Arlin said nothing, his breathing thick with fury.

He smiled. Tell me, or Ill tip the whole sinkin lot on the floor and paw through it till I get me an answer. You think I wont? You bloody know I will.

Return my belongings, said Arlin tightly, and Ill tell you. Touch one thing in that pack and Ill burn it to cinders with a word.

And leave yourself with nowt? He hooted. Not even spare under-drawers? I dont bloody think so.

Arlins eyes narrowed. To thwart you, Rafel? Id do without a lot less.

Give it back to him, Rafel, said Nib Hambly. This is our first night and youre at each others throats? Aint much hope of us lasting weeks at this rate, is there? Give it back.

Instead of a conjurement, he used his muscles. Threw the pack at Arlin, and smiled again when it was fumbled.

You councilors, said Arlin, undoing the packs buckles. I hold you witness to this thuggery. When we return to Dorana Cityif youre not dead from your own incompetence long beforeyoull side with me and watch as this lout is removed from Justice Hall in chains.

Rafel rolled his eyes. Is this where Im meant to start shaking in my boots?

Be quiet, Rafel, said Tom, his own temper fraying. Dont make things worse. Lord Garrick

Arlin finished rummaging in the pack and pulled out a slender, leather-bound book. The husband of my late mothers second cousin was a member of Tollins expedition. Vont Marbury. This is his account.

Rafel stared. You had family on that first expedition? I didnt know that. He looked at Tom. Did you?

No, said Tom stiffly, after a moment. The Council, caught napping. Its a tenuous connection. Not a matter of blood. We had no reason to even suspect.

Seemed no-one did. He looked back at Arlin. At the diary. Has Sarle Baden got a copy of that?

The oddest glint in Arlins eyes. No.

You kept it from him?

Yes.

But why would you And then he shook his head. You really are a miserable shit. You were punishing him?

Hosh Clyne broke from his whispering with Tom and Hambly. Punishing? Rafel, what are you

You wanted to go with him and Pintte, didnt you? he said to Arlin, flapping a hand at the gaping councilors. You werent half-witted with grief, like Baden claimed. You wanted to go and he wouldnt bloody have you.

The slowly dying fire washed Arlins face with shadows. He didnt need Marburys account. He had Tollins. A careless shrug. Which Ive read.

Then why niggle me on it?

To amuse myself.

Rafel, this is most disturbing, said Hambly. How do you come by a copy of Tollins account? It was to be kept privy, for the Council only. And its the Council that should

Rafel hunched a shoulder at him. With their whisperings and their suspicions he wasnt of a mind to be scolded by the likes of Nib Hambly. All right, Arlin. He wriggled his fingers. Lets have a look at it.

No, let us have a look at it, said Tom. Rafel, you overstep yourself!

He turned round. No, Tom, I dont think I do. Last time I looked, Im the one who sailed Westwailing Harbour. Dont seem to recall any of you three helping out. He turned back. Arlin. Give me the bloody diary, would you?

With a contemptuous smile, Arlin floated Vont Marburys expedition diary across the cave, to his hand. Rafel plucked it from mid-air, opened it carefully, and started reading its scribbled pages. The writing was cramped and crabby, the ink faded with age and blotched with strange stains.

I dont see theres any difference between their tales. His and Tollins, he muttered eventually. They both talk on taking care with the same stretches of the pass. Where to find water. Which lizards and birds eggs are safe to eat. They even describe the mountains the same waytwo sets of teeth set close together. So I dont

What? said Tom, breaking the taut silence. Rafel, what have you

Sink me, he breathed, and looked up at Arlin, whose tired, stubbled face was tight-drawn now cause he knew, he bloody knew. This was what hed not wanted to be found. You didnt think to mention this?

Mention what? Tom demanded. Rafel, what have you

Pipe down, Tom, he said, his skin crawling. And Ill read it to you.

Toms expression was as tight as Arlins. Clyne and Hambly, seated on either side of him, glared. I dont care for your tone, said Tom. Ill thank you to

You want to hear this or not? he snapped, still staring at Arlin. You poxy, poxy, poxy little shit. Cause if you do, pipe down.

When Tom said nothing, he took silence as an invitation to continue. Cleared his throat and tipped Arlins family diary towards the sputtery glimlight.

Over three weeks of travel into these desolate new lands, and we have encountered a dreadful, lingering evil. A terrible malevolence. The very air we breathe is poison. And VestyVesty swears he hears a voice. In his dreams, he hears it.

Nib Hambly was a brawny man, muscled from hard farming work, but he looked shaken. Barl save us. What does that mean?

Vesty, said Clyne. Thats one of the Doranen who died on Tollins expedition, isnt it?

Rafel nodded. Anger was stirring, and with it his power. The glim-light hed conjured flared and spat sparks. According to Tollin, he swelled up and turned black and rotted to pieces before he stopped breathing. The way Tollin himself had died, according to Mama. It was one of the gruesome expedition details that had so delighted him and Goose, as sprats.

Goose.

He scrambled to his feet, the diary discarded. Youre a sinkin bloody bastard, Arlin. You knew about this and you didnt say a word? So youre pissy with Sarle Baden. So what? Thats your shitty trouble; that aint to do with anybody else. But youre so sinkin selfish, you dont care who gets hurt just so long as you get what you want. And when you dont

Eyeing him warilyand he was bloody right to be waryArlin uncoiled gracefully. Stood lightly on the balls of his feet, tensed. Calm yourself, Rafel, you

His clenched fist came up, and the sparking glimfire flared hot. I aint finished, Arlin. You kept your mouth shut to punish Sarle Baden and now theres Goose out there somewhere in the wicked dark, and that Fernel bloody Pintte, and them others who never hurt you, and from what we heard through their talking stone it sounds like theyve been punished right along with Baden. And for what? For what? So you can have revenge?

The damp night air in the cave was shivering, shining golden. The ball of glimfire glowed like a small captive sun. Eyes glittering, Arlin stepped back.

Youre wrong to blame me, Rafel, he said. You said it yourself, Tollins account also spoke of the gruesome illness that befell them. How can you blame me when

Tollin never said a bloody word about voices!

Most likely because he knew hed be laughed to shame! Arlin retorted. These are the mindrotted ramblings of a dying man, you fool. Who would give them credence? No-one with a whit of commonsense!

Da wouldve! he said, so close to breaking, so close to smashing Arlin flat with his power. After what he survived with Morg? Da wouldve known to take those ramblings serious. And if youd given him the bloody chance, Arlin, if youd told him, told someone, thenthen

Then Goose wouldnt be out there alone. Maybe dying. Maybe dead already. None of them would.

Arlin stepped back again. More than cautious now. More than wary. The poxy shit was afraid.

And so he bloody should be. He should be pissing himself.

Rafel Arlin held both hands out. No shimmer of power in him, all his magic locked away. It was a mistake. Youre right. I was angry with Sarle. My only thought was to deny him success. I didnt believe the diary. I didnt think anyone would get hurt. We still dont know for certain that anyone has been hurt. For all we know their talking stone was damaged. For all we know well stumble over them in a day or two. Rafel.

Slowly, so slowly, the roaring in his mind faded. His burning blood cooled, and with it the urge to slaughter. He breathed out, hard, so dizzy he nearly staggered.

As the official Council presence on this expedition, said Tom Dimble, I tell you, Lord Garrick, that we are heartily displeased. He looked at his companions, and they all clambered to standing. The Council shouldve been told of Marburys account before it allowed Mayor Pintte and Lord Baden to lead their expedition. Before we were sent in their footsteps. You might well have put us all in grave danger!

Recovered most of his arrogance, Arlin shook his head. And you wonder why I never mentioned this. You Olken you start at your own shadows and somehow youve managed to turn the Councils Doranen as cowardly as yourselves. If Id shown you Marburys diary you and those other timid fools might not have allowed

Might not? said Hosh Clyne, his voice uneven with temper. Would not. Permission for this expedition would not have been granted had we known

Arlin smiled, so unpleasant. But it was. And were here. And

Well not be here beyond tonight, said Tom flatly. This expedition is over. Mysterious, malevolent voices in the dark lands beyond these mountains? Its too dangerous to continue. Not until this matter has been discussed by all the Council and prayed on by Barlsman Jaffee and

Prayed on? said Arlin, incredulous. Discussed in Council? Theres no time for that. We must

The decisions made, Lord Garrick, said Nib Hambly. No point you arguing. Youre not the authority here. Come first light well

Keep on going, said Rafel, stirring. I cant bloody believe it. Im agreeing with Arlin. Again. Much more of this and hed drop dead with a brainstorm. Hes right, Meister Hambly. Lurs running out of time. And Goose and the others, theyre running out of time too, even faster. Dangerous or not, weve got to keep going.

All three councilors were staring at him, dismayed. Youd side with the Doranen? said Clyne. But Rafelyou loathe him.

He shrugged. No. Loathe is much too mild a word. But it happens I agree with him on this. I can loathe him and agree with him, Clyne. It aint that hard, specially with so much at stake.

Rafel

Save your breath, Tom, he said, suddenly so bloody tired. If you want to turn tail, you go right ahead. I wont stop you. Truth be told, Ill probly cheer. But I aint turning back and neither is Arlin. Any of one of you try to stop us and Another shrug. Well. Aint no point in you trying to stop us, is there? We all know you might as well try spitting against the wind.

The looks on their faces answered him.

Good, he said, nodding. Now Im a mite wearyand we need to be on our way again come dawn. Reckon Ill get some sleep. With a snap of his fingers he extinguished his glimlight, plunging their meagre cave into flame-flickered darkness.

As Tom and the others huddled close, muttering, he dropped to his groundsheet. Felt the abandoned diary under his arse, tugged it free, then held it out to Arlin. Here.

Arlin was staring at him, half-lit by the dying fire. You think this makes a difference? You think because you strut and puff your bravado like a cock on a dung heap Ill forget Westwailing?

He grinned, not kindly. Lightly sleeping in his blood, all that power. I dont want you to forget Westwailing, Arlin. I want you to remember it. Every bloody time youre tempted to do me a mischief, I want you to remember it. Now take this sinkin diary before I use it as bloody kindling.

Tight-lipped, Arlin took the leather-bound book. Shoved it safely back in his pack, then hesitated. Looked up. What happened to Vesty and the others. The way they died. Youre not concerned?

Afraid, you mean, he said, curling up beside his fire. Ive known since I were a sprat how Morgs magic killed them.

Arlin finished shoving the diary away and dropped cross-legged to his canvas groundsheet. That doesnt answer my question.

No? he said, yawning. There you go. Fancy that.

Tom and his Council friends were still huddled. Then their whispering stopped, and in the faint firelight their mingled shadows separated.

Well continue, Tom said coldly. But Speaker Shifrin will hear of this, and the rest of the Council. You can both expect to be severely censured on our return.

Arlin didnt bother to reply. Rafel just sighed. Grunted. Let them make of that what they would. Tom and his namby-pamby friends chose to decide hed accepted their authority, and all three settled themselves down to sleep. Beyond the cave, the rain continued.

And that was the first night.

A sodden dawn woke them, and the journey continued.

The long, wearisome days passed slowly. By their third sunset the constant rain had dribbled and died, along with any pretending that they were five men with something in common. Tom and his fellow-councilors even stopped their private whispering, all complaints exhausted. Strength was needed just to keep going. The Doranen hexes on the rocks and trees made sure they never once took a wrong step, and thanks to Tollin and Vont Marbury they knew where to find the natural springs bubbling through cracks and crevices in the mountains. Knew that the bright green lizards with the blue eyes were safe to eat, provided the sac of poison was cut from each scaly armpit and that the stub-tailed brown lizards with the orange tongues were instant death. Knew that the dull blue berries on the scraggly vines wrapped around the mountains stunted saplings tasted bitter, but would help them stay awake and the pale, foamy-headed fungus that fed on rotted logs would make a man vomit till he turned his insides out.

As they fought their way over the unforgiving mountains, hating them too much to care for their wild beauty, they stumbled across signs that Fernel Pintte and his group had journeyed ahead of them. Boot prints dried around this water spring, and that one. Recently broken branches. Charred embers where a campfire had burned. Roasted animal bones picked to ivory by small, busy ants. The going continued cruel. Phena hadnt lied: Barls Mountains were merciless.

Lying each night on hard rock, or gathered leaf-litter, staring at the tree-latticed sky or hiding from rain and mist beneath his broad-brimmed leather hat, Rafel thought about Barl and the terrified mages shed brought with her from the Lost Dorana he and Arlin were so desperate to find. Thought of the children. Children. It was a bloody wonder all the sprats didnt perish. And babes-in-arms. Thered been babes-in-arms too, according to Doranen history and stories.

Hundreds of Doranen, starving and terrified, running for their lives from Morg. Hard to imagine. Though they brought such trouble with them, hard not to feel sad.

How can I blame them? Youd be crazy not to run.

With the unknown lands beyond the mountains crawled closer with every sunrise, the pain writhing in his blood and bones darkened. Grew more intense. As though now he didnt only feel the echoes of bitter magic in the mountains but also in what lay beyond them. The ruined lands Tollin and Vont Marbury had run from. That Da had said would never change. But still, still, he clung to hope.

Da could be wrong. Hes got to be wrong. Or weve come a sinkin long way for nowt.

And that was all hed let himself think of his father. If he let himself think any deeper hed stir his fears to waking. Start to wonder if

Even his bodys constant thrumming of pain was more bearable than that.

Conversation continued scarce. What did any of them have to say to one another? The councilors were friends, true, but exhaustion had silenced them. Of the three men only Hambly, the farmer, was used to such relentless physical toil. Tom and Clyne, City folk both, suffered for their comfortable lives. He wanted to feel sorry for them, but it was hard.

I bloody told you not to come.

As for Arlin, he was showing the strain of their travelling, too. Like all of them he was scraped and cut and bruised from clambering over boulders, over fallen trees, into gullies and out again. No Doranen magic to ease his wayit was too dangerous. Could start a rockslide, or worse. Even he could see that. Did he still mourn his father? Watching him sideways from time to time, Rafel found it hard to tell. The way Rodyn had snapped and snarled, the way Arlin never stood up to him had there been love there? Was there true grief? How could any son love a father who treated him so cold?

But that kind of thinking sailed him too close to dangerous waters. Better to dwell on less difficult distractions, like his never-ending pain.

Once he spoke to Arlin on something personal. Something not to do with trapping lizards or finding water or making sure a guiding hex wasnt corrupted. On the nineteenth night of their brutal journey, wrenched and skinned and too tired for sleep, he sat propped against the scorched trunk of a lightning-struck tree and struggled to breathe through the seething agitation in his blood. His small fire, carefully walled with loose rocks, threw a little heat and light. Better than nothing, but not enough to chase the deep-seated chill from his bones. He was used to it now. Had glumly accepted hed likely never be properly warm again.

Beneath him, around him, the poisoned earth whispered. Here in the wilderness, just like in Lurs Home Districts, there was nothing stood between him and what he felt.

A good job Deenie aint here. Shed be curled up screaming right about now.

Spikily aware of nearby Arlins brooding gaze on him, he opened his gritty eyes. You dont feel a sinkin thing, do you?

Stubbled with beard, his blond hair dirty, matted with sweat, Arlin looked as battered and exhausted as he felt. Unhealthily thin, the flesh fallen away in his face, cause the jerky and nuts and hard-tack biscuits, the lizards and berries and occasional birds eggs, they kept starvation at bay, and no more.

Id bloody kill for a ginger cake.

What? What are you talking about? said Arlin, croaky with weariness. Snappish that hed been caught staring.

Rafel let his head bump against the rough dead bark behind him. No. You feel nowt. Reckon this is the first and last time I ever felt jealous of a bloody Doranen.

Arlin snorted. That youll admit to.

Sitting well apart, like they always did, Tom and his friends fed twigs to their own campfire. Pretending they were the three of them alone. Just as thin, just as filthy and stubbled. Regretting their predicament, now it was days too late to change their minds.

You still insist that as an Olken, youre special? said Arlin, prodding. Even parched and croaking, he managed to sneer. That your mage senses are superior to mine?

Not superior, he said wearily. Different.

And what is it you claim to feel that I dont?

He shouldve kept his mouth shut. Nowt, he muttered, letting his eyes drift closed. Leave me to snore, Arlin. Sunrise comes bloody early this high up.

Rafel

Startled, he opened his eyes again because Arlin had thrown a stone at him, hard. Dont bloody do that!

Then answer me! snapped Arlin. What do you feel?

Beneath the arrogant belligerencewas that a whisper of fear? He thought it was. He thought maybe Arlin was frighted. So maybe Im wrong. Maybe, at long last, Arlin is feeling something. Could be the darkness had finally touched him. He rolled his head, just a little, and met Arlins resentful stare.

I feel the mountains, Lord Garrick. The young nights silence deepened, as though every unseen bird and tiny animal was holding its breath. Listening. Theyre alive with the memory of what happened here. They suffer. They hold grudges. They remember the Wall, and what brought it down. They remember Morg and all his wickedness, six hundred years of hurling dark magics into their stones and buried bones. The mountains are weeping. Thats what I feel.

For a long time Arlin said nothing. Then he laughed, scornful. Fanciful nonsense. Youre lightheaded, Rafel. Raving. Westwailing addled you. Ive never heard such tripe.

No. Hes right, said Tom, stirring beside his fire. I can feel it too. Not as deeplyhes Ashers son, after allbut I feel it.

So do I, Nib Hambly whispered. My dreams my dreams theyve been cruel and cold these last few nights.

Surprised, unsettled, Rafel squinted at them. What about you, Meister Clyne? It was too dark to see the barbers downturned face, but he could hear the mans unsteady breathing. What do you feel?

I dont know, said Clyne. But my dreams have grown fearsome. And my spirits are low.

Of course theyre low, said Arlin, scathing. Look around us, you fool. Look where we are. You cant give his claims credence. You may be Olken, Clyne, but youre surely not so stupid.

Rafel scowled. Shut up, Arlin. You aint bloody helping. Tom? How long have you been feeling like this?

For certain? Tom exchanged a cautious glance with his companions. A few days. Before that? He shrugged. Theres much of what were doing would give any man bad dreams.

Arlin shoved a broken branch onto his dwindling campfire. Kicked the flames higher with a snap of his fingers. This is nonsense. The four of you frighten each other like little boys.

Do we? Rafel pulled a knee to his chest and wrapped his arms around it. Rested his chin, the dull throb behind his eyes threatening to sharpen. But youre feeling bad too, Arlin. Youve got to be. A mage like you? You might not feel the earth, like we can, but dont tell me you cant at least feel Morgs presence here.

With four pairs of Olken eyes on him, Arlin busied himself thumping his pack into a lumpy pillow. What I feel is my business.

And what I feel is your business?

You started this, Rafel, Arlin retorted. Not me.

I asked one bloody question! Youre the one couldnt leave it alone. Frustrated, he snapped his other knee close. Was glad of the tree-trunk behind him, a bolster. Youre the one sitting there calling me a

Im the one whod like to get some rest, said Arlin. And instead Im being kept awake by Olken bedtime daffydowns. He settled onto his groundsheet, curled tight to hold in any meagre warmth. Morg is dead. His magics dead. There are no voices. Go to sleep.

Bemused, Rafel shook his head. Just when I think he cant get any more arrogant. Then he rolled his eyes at Tom and the others. You heard Lord Garrick, sprats. Beddy-bye time.

Muttering, the councilors bedded down. He bedded down too, but sleep came slow and fitful. No voices, true. Just the earths keening cry, moaning through the empty places inside him.

The next day they continued, and did not speak of darkness and bad dreams again. But Rafel kept an eye on Tom and the others, every instinct telling him to beware. But beware of what? Maybe Arlins right. Maybe its cause Im worn down. Worn out. And he was. No point denying it.

Except Arlins fear remained, too. Ruthlessly buried. Not spoken of. But there.

Another three days of punishing travel, another three nights of restless, painful sleep. Hour by hour he felt more and more beaten, more and more bruised. The air thickened around him, so that walking in sunlight was like swimming in the dark. His blood felt like molasses, his heart struggled to pump. He wanted to pull Arlin aside, to whisper, Cant you feel it?

But letting Arlin see weakness would be a sinkin mistake. Arlin wasnt Goose, a shoulder to lean on. Arlin would smell uncertainty and move in for the kill.

Tom and the others were feeling it, he could see that. He could see the pain in them, slowing them down. Tom he did take aside. Tried to make him see sense. I know its risky, but you should turn back. Its only going to get worse.

We cant, said Tom, his voice thinner than it had been, his eyes sunken and bloodshot. We have a sworn duty. Well see this through.

He sighed. Youre a fool, Tom. Its not worth your life.

You think its worth yours, said Tom, shrugging. And youre not the only Olken willing to fight for Lur.

Hosh and Nib might see it different, he said. They might think

They agree with me, said Tom. Give over, Rafel. Save your strength for climbing the next bit of cliff.

What could he do? No law said they had to listen. Fine, he said curtly. But dont blame me when youre broken, and cant be fixed.

The twenty-fifth day since their leaving of Gribley dawned cool and cloudy. According to Tollins expedition account, they were nearly four days slower in their crossing. But even so, they should be quit of Barls Mountains before sunset.

Worn to a thin edge, as he chewed a leathery mouthful of jerky he found himself comforted and frighted by the notion. He was more than ready for this part of the journey to be over. But come so close to Morgs abandoned domain, his heart thudded hard against his ribs. He felt bad enough now. How much worse would he feel walking through the lands Morg used to rule?

Dont think on that. Youll feel what you feel, and whatever you feel, youll bear it. You aint got a choice. Goose is relying on you.

Close by, Arlin was choking down cold, charred lizard meat. He felt the Doranen look at him, as though hed spoken his fears aloud. Met the poxy shits stare unblinking, daring him to speak.

Arlin looked away.

Breakfast finished, they shrugged into their much lighter packs, morosely silent, and trudged on. Soon enough the path tumbled downwards, steep and treacherous, shrouded so thickly with foliage they couldnt tell how close to the ground they were, or what waited for them beyond the mountains blotting blanket of trees. One mis-step, one stumble, and thered be broken legsor necks. Sweating and swearing, clutching at low-hung branches and saplings, unbalanced by packs and swords and stout walking sticks, they struggled to stay on their feet as they wended their way down the lower slopes of the mountain. There was no birdsong. No lizard skitterings. No sense of any life. This close to Morgs old kingdom, everything felt dead.

And then a burst of daylight, blinding, as at last they emerged from the forested gloom.

Barls mercy, said Tom Dimble, panting, his face contorted. Running sweat. Weve done it. Weve escaped Lur.

They had. Before them, a new stretch of mountain, this time split in half by a wide gap. Clinging to the edge of the weathered left-hand peak, a man-made stone staircase, narrow and crumbling. Years and years old. Treacherous: one careless step and a man would plummet to his death. And through that wide gap, bathed in cloud-filtered sunlight, glimpses of a land they had never seen before.

Tom, Clyne and Hambly were clasping hands, patting shoulders. Wearily celebrating despite their undisguised discomfort. Even now they remained their own privy expedition. Arlin, stood apart and disdainful, picked at the worn stitching on a finger of his leather gloves. Seemingly unmoved by what theyd achieved.

Rafel smeared his forearm across his filthy, sweaty bearded face.

Sink me, Da. We crossed the mountains.

So what next?

Though he was exhausted, and the stench of Morgs magic rose unleashed within him, burning his blood and scalding his bones so he could easily weep from the torment, he broke into an unsteady run. He heard Arlin curse and follow, battered boots loud on the uneven rocky steps, desperately trying to overtake him. Of course. Further behind Arlin came Tom, Clyne and Hambly, gasping and wheezing. He heard his own harsh, laboured breathing as he staggered up the staircase on lead-heavy legs. Nearly. Nearly. He was nearly at the top. One more step. Another one. Just one more. He thought he could feel Arlins ragged breath hot on his neck.

There.

Hand flung against the bare rock wall beside him, perilously close to tumbling, he took a deep breath. Took another. Another. Tried to subdue the sick churning in his guts. But before he could blink away the sweat and properly see the new land spread before him, he heard an agonised, choking moan.

Turning, staring past clumsy, crowding Arlin, he saw Tom Dimbles legs buckle and drop him sprawling on his back. His staff hit the stone steps and rolled away. Further down the staircase Hosh Clyne and Nib Hambly were struggling too, fallen against each other, barely staying on their feet.

Toms eyes were anguished in his sickly grey face, blood seeping like tears. His chest heaved for air, every muscle twisted with pain. Rafel

Tossing aside his own staff he shoved by Arlin, ignoring the Doranens furious protest, and plunged back down the staircase.

TomTomwhat is it? he said, dropping to the ground beside him. Can you talk?

Eyes rolling, nostrils bubbling a bloody froth, Tom shuddered. You dontfeel it? he gasped. Darkness

darkness A dreadful moan. Hosh Nib

Rafel glanced up. Saw Toms fellow-councilors, sprawled now like he was, writhing in pain.

What is this? Arlin demanded, keeping well back. An Olken affliction?

No, he said tautly, holding tight to Toms hand. Looked behind him at Rodyns unlovable son. Its this place. Its Morg. Cant you tell? Youre ice-white, Arlin. Dont deny you can feel it.

Arlins eyes narrowed. I may feel it but Im not dying. Why arent you?

Still holding on to Tom, he shuffled round awkwardly, the stone steps bruising his knees. Dont sound so sinkin disappointed. Im sickened. Its justIm stronger than them. And theyre not bloody dying! Not if I can help it. Tom He bent low. Im sorry. I shouldve kept on at you until you turned back.

They can turn back now, said Arlin, as Tom heaved for air. They have to. Theyll only slow us down.

Turn back? he said, disbelieving, and waved a hand at all three men. Arlin! For pitys sake, look at them!

I am looking, said Arlin, and took a cautious step closer. They stay here or they turn back, Rafel. Thats it. Thats the choice.

Hate for Arlin was sharp as a stab wound. Fear for Goose stabbed sharper than that. Had this happened to Pinttes expedition? If they kept walking would they find their bodies? Black and bloated and running with pus?

Sink that. Theres got to be something else.

Arlin shrugged. There isnt. Stay and perish with them, Rafel, or guide them back to Lur. Its up to you. But Im not wasting any more time on this.

Letting go of Toms hand, sparing a look for Clyne and Hambly, suffering as horribly, he lurched to his feet.

Youre going to abandon three stricken men? You bastard, Arlin, you sinkin bastard. You cant. Thatsthats wicked.

Pale and filthy, stinkingas they all wereArlin smiled. There was no pleasure in it, only a cold and calculated cruelty. Ive crossed the mountains to find Lost Dorana. Ive no interest in mollycoddling three sick Olken who were forced upon me against my will. And if you attempt to stop me, Rafel Power seethed, swift and lethal. Boiling through the tainted air. This isnt Lur. Get in my way and Ill kill you where you stand.

Tom was making strangled noises in his throat. Hosh Clyne and Nib Hambly had started to shake. Remembering Da on the floor of the Weather Chamber, the blood and the convulsions, Rafel had to close his eyes. And then he looked back at Arlin.

He doesnt mean it. He cant.

If you walk away what am I sposed to do? Snap my bloody fingers and

Rafel? said Arlin, suspicious. What are you doing?

Sweat prickling, Morgs hate darkly whispering, he ignored poxy Arlin Garrick. Finished shrugging out of his pack, let it and his sword fall to the stone staircase beside Tom, then dropped into a crouch to fumble at its buckles. He didnt dare try to do this from memory. Hed read the incants a number of times since copying them in Das library but he was a long way from trusting himself to know the words and sigils by heart.

I can do this. I have to.

But this was such a poisoned place. Tollin and the others, theyd struggled with their magic here. What if he struggled too? What if the dregs of Morgs blighting magic tainted the spells? Tainted him? What if

I have to try.

Tom was weeping now, little sobs of unbearable pain. He and Nib Hambly and Hosh Clynethey didnt have much time. Morgs malevolence was crushing them. It was trying to crush him. Hed die before he let it.

Rafel! Arlin stepped closer again. What are you

Tugging the folded papers out of the pack, Rafel looked up, knowing his eyes were terrible. Knowing rage and power burned in his stare.

Shut up and stand back. I aint got the first sinkin idea if thisll work.

And if it doesnt I really will be a murderer.

But he couldnt think on that. Leave Tom and the others here, send them back across the mountains on their lonesome, or kill them by trying to conjure them home. Whatever he did theyd be just as dead, and hed be to blame. But at least this way the poor bastards stood a chance.

Finding the scribbled page he was after, he folded the others and shoved them back to safety in his pack. Then he read the conjuring incants quickly, looking for the one that would best suit his purpose.

Rafel, what are you doing?

He almost laughed, he felt so frighted. Im sending them home, Arlin. Now bloody stand back.

Scowling, Arlin retreated three steps. Sending them home? Rafel, have you lost your mind?

Shutting out Arlins nagging voice, shutting out fear and doubt and every scent and sound around him and every hurt in his body, Morgs insidious magic, Rafel tucked the sheet of paper under the toe of his boot rested his left hand on Tom Dimbles lolling head read out loud the words of the incant said Dorana City in a clear voice, holding in his minds eye an image of the Council chamber wrote burning sigils on the curdled air with his right forefinger and waited.

Nowt happened. Nowt happened. He nearly wept with despair. Then the power inside him stirred, hugely and hotly. He felt dizzy. Felt vomiting sick.

A twist of pain a flare of tarnished gold and Tom Dimble disappeared.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Stunned silence. Then Arlin stirred. What was that? Rafel, what did you do?

Fingers trembling, head pounding, that pulse of pain still burning, he retrieved the sheet of scribbled incants. Dont you bloody listen, Arlin? He glanced up. Wished there was time to enjoy the look on Lord Garricks face. I sent Tom home. Now shut your trap so I can send Hosh and Nib after him.

Leaving Arlin gaping he climbed down to Hambly and Clyne, tumbled like Deenies childhood dolls on the narrow stony stairs. Almost as still as dolls now. Dangerously close to death. Twice more he recited Durms conjuring spell. Twice more seared flaming sigils into the air. One after the other, the Olken men disappeared.

A heartbeat later he sat down, hard enough to rattle his teeth. Bright with pain and oddly emptied, he put his head between his bent knees. Waited to see if the spasm would pass, or if hed just pass out.

I did it. Da, I did it. Even in this filthy place. The spell worked, I could feel it. What does that mean? What else can I do?

A scraping of boot-leather, heels hammering stone steps. Then brutal fingers tangled in his hair. Dragged his head up and back till he was staring into Arlin Garricks furious face.

Where did you get those incants, Rafel? That magic is unknown.

No matter what happened next, this would be worth it. He smiled. Not unknown, Arlin. At least not to Durm.

Shaken, Arlin let go of him. Stepped back and nearly tripped onto his own arse. Durm? Thats not possible. Durms library of magic isits His voice died in his throat. I have read the Council library, Rafel. Every book, every scroll. The conjuring incant you just used

Aint there, he said, and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. A bonfire was burning unchecked behind his eyes. For bloody good reason, it turns out.

Your father, Arlin whispered. He repressed the knowledge? He dared to decide what the Doranen shall know of their own heritage?

Rafel looked up. For the smallest, swiftest moment felt a twinge of sympathy. Could see his own remembered rage echoed in Arlin. And then he recalled who and what this man was, and fleeting sympathy died.

Durm decided it first, Arlin. Hes the one who kept those magics hidden. Him and every Master Magician since Barls time. Da took their advice, is all. You want to complain? Complain to them.

Arlin flung out his hand. He was shaking with his fury. Give those pages to me. All of them. They are nothing to do with you, Olken.

No, he said, pushing unsteady to his feet. And Im warning you, Arlintry taking em off me and Ill send you home, too. Only it wont be the Council chamber you wake up in. Try anything mucky on me and I bloody swear, Ill drop you smack dab into one of those whirlpools you and your meddling Da helped make.

My father was right, said Arlin, his voice low and choking. Youre an abomination. The midwife shouldve drowned you at birth.

And I shouldve let you drown in Westwailing.

And there it was. The ugly truth. A lifetime of rivalry, resentment and bitterness, of petty cruelties and secret revenges stripped bare.

Arlins fingers were fisting and unfisting, aching to strike out. Rafel

Yknow, he added, in a mood to twist the knife, since it seems were upending all our dirty little secrets? On the day I turned eleven I pinched a spell from that book you liked to flash around at school. Remember the one, full of clever Doranen magic? That was my birthday present to me. And every bloody day after, Arlin, every bloody dayI pinched another one. Right under your nose. And you never knew. He smiled again, wider this time. Nearly laughing at the look on Arlins face. So in case you get any clever ideas, Lord Garrick? Now that Tom and the others are gone? I aint green when it comes to Doranen magic. And that conjuring spell is only the start of what I know.

For a long time, Arlin was silent. Whatever his feelings now, he had them well hidden. Then he stirred. That spell. Can you use it to conjure us to Lost Dorana?

If I could, dont you think I mightve mentioned it already? He shook his head. No, Arlin. It only works if you know where youre going. And since we dont well have to get there the hard way.

Leaving poxy Lord Garrick to stare at thin air, he returned to his abandoned pack. Shoved the scribbled page of incants inside, shrugged it on, his unused sword awkward in its scabbard, then retrieved his walking staff. Stared up the steep stone staircase in front of them.

Well? Are you coming?

Arlin answered by pushing past him and taking those steep stone steps two at a time. Rafel shook his head, and followed.

Let him take the bloody lead. I dont care. And Im safer with him in front of me than I am with him behind.

The stone staircase continued down the other side of the mountain. A hairsbreadth from a fatal fall, they took each weathered, rocky step slowly, one at a time. Who had built the staircase, and why, Rafel couldnt imagine. Didnt care. It meant thered been people here once. Barl willing, theyd find them. Barl willing, theyd find Goose and the others, too. Alive.

Cause if they aint

But he couldnt think on that. He had enough trouble to fight without thinking on Goose dead, with Arlin for company and the sickening remains of Morgs magic sullen in his blood. And in these new lands. It was a puzzle, why Tom and the others had fallen to it and he hadnt. Arlin was mostly all right. Cause he was Doranen? Was that the key? And was it his own Doranen magic that saved him? He thought it must be.

So I guess that makes me lucky, Da. Bloody lucky I got you for my father.

Of course, that didnt solve the biggest puzzle of all: how it was he and Da could do Doranen magic in the first place. With Da hating his magic, theyd never talked on it. Probly now they never would. Unless he and Arlin managed to stumble across Lost Dorana. Could be hed find his answers there.

If it even exists. If this aint a bloody great waste of time and our lives.

At last they reached the bottom of the stone staircase, without mishap. Took a moment to catch their breaths, get their bearings. Stretching before them, a wide expanse of open country. No trees. No animals. No dwellings, or even ruins. Everything was silent and still. Shadowed in the distance, at the furthest limits of sight, a vague hint of something.

Arlin pointed. There.

I agree.

And I could care less if you agree or not.

Arlin Sighing, Rafel looked at him. Like it or not were in this together. Like it or not we need to trust each other, cause

Trust each other?

He watched Arlin stamp a few paces, then spin round to confront him. Beneath the dirt and sweat and stubbled beard, the Doranens face was livid.

Thats right, Arlin, he said quickly. Trust. Which aint got a sinkin thing to do with like. I dont bloody like you and you dont like me. But this aint Lur, where that doesnt matter. Barl alone knows what well run into out here. Could be therell come a time when Im the only thing standing between you and a grisly death.

Arlin laughed. And you expect me to believe youll stay standing between us?

Yes.

Prove it, said Arlin, eyes glittering. Give me those spells you stole.

Bastard. He shook his head. I cant.

The anger died out of Arlins face, leaving it cold and white. Fend for yourself, Rafel. From this point I travel alone. Follow me? Hinder me? Trust this. Ill make you sorry.

Almost, almost, he let Arlin walk away. Let the poxy shit go and if he died, good riddance. But he couldnt. He needed to find Lost Dorana, and to find Lost Dorana he needed Lord bloody Garrick.

One day Im going to choke on needing him.

All right! he shouted. Arlin, all right! Ill show you!

Arlin slowed. Stopped. Didnt turn round. Stifling a groan, because he was so tired, so ill-at-ease, Rafel forced himself into a jog-trot until he caught up.

Ill show you, he said again, as Arlin stared at him in hostile silence. I will. But not now. Tonight. When we make camp, wherever we make camp. Ill show you then.

Arlin started walking. Groaning again, Rafel followed.

They trudged for hours across the greyish-green, unwholesome turf. Even in the thin, unclouded sunshine the air felt dark and dangerous. Smelled wrong. These lands were oppressive, steeped and soaked in the most perverse of magics.

Arlin glanced sideways at Rafel, walking two good arms length distant. As much as he wanted to disbelieve the Olken, to disbelieve he had some special connection to the earth, it couldnt be denied the man looked unwell. There was something more at work in him than mere weariness from their arduous crossing of the mountains.

Hes right. This place is poisoned. And while I can taste it, while it gripes in my belly, it isnt eating at me. Not like it eats at him.

If this was anyone else, even any other Olken, he might feel something. Feel sympathy. Offer help. But this was Ashers son, the great Rodyn Garricks murderer, and a thief besides. Remembering Rafels mocking smile, he felt his belly gripe tighter.

For years, he stole from me. Made a fool of me. I will punish him for that. Perhaps not today, or even tomorrow. But I will have my vengeance. When I no longer need him, I will make him pay.

Stolen magics

If he let himself, hed still be reeling from the shock of those three conjurations. Three living, breathing men banished home by magic. By Rafel.

What else does he know? What else did Durm hide from us that Ashers son can do and I cant?

Hed grown up on tales of fantastic Doranen magics. Fallen asleep to his fathers railings against Barl and her betrayals, to his lamenting the loss of their heritage because shed been weak and afraid. If Father and Ain Freidin hadnt perished, perhaps theyd have discovered what Barl had thrown away. And then Ain would have taught him those magics and he would have become the greatest mage in Lur.

And Ain would have smiled at him.

Arlin? said Rafel, slowing. What is it?

Theyd not spoken a word since starting across this wasteland. Barely looked at each other, each pretending they walked alone. And now here was Rafel, genuine concern in his voice. How much did it gall him, that Ashers son could sense his disquiet?

Nothing.

Shading his eyes, Rafel stared ahead. After so many hours steady progress they at last were close enough to make sense of the smudged shadows theyd glimpsed from the stone staircase.

I can feel it too. I think its a village. Likely the same village Tollin found. The Olken shivered. It feels bad, doesnt it?

Yes, it felt bad, but he wasnt about to admit it. Wasnt about to do or say anything to give Rafel the impression they had even that much in common.

I wonder if well find Fernel Pintte there. And the others, Rafel added. Sarle Baden. Goose.

Thered been not a sign of them yet. If they did find their missing men in the village, most likely it would be as rotting corpses. Their message to the Council had been discouraging, at best. He couldnt find it in him to grieve. Baden alive would only be an obstacle. His blind determination to steal Fathers dreams proved that.

The day was dying, sliding towards twilight, but if they picked up their pace they should reach the village before dark. Never mind his exhaustion, hed happily run the rest of the way. It was hard to think beyond the promised chance to look at Durms spells.

We should pick up our pace, said Rafel, glancing at the sky. Nights coming, and Id rather not be out in the open when it does. For all we know there are creatures here who shun the light, and feast in the dark.

What a charming thought.

He started walking again, leaving Rafel to follow or stay behind or drop dead. After a few minutes he broke into a shuffling jog. When his chest hurt too much to breathe comfortably, he slowed. Walked until his breathing eased, then shuffle-jogged some more. Walk, jog, walk, jog. Rafel kept up with him. The bastard was nothing if not stubborn.

When at last they reached the village the world was swathed in a purplish dusk. Like Vont Marbury before them they found old bleached bones, empty ruined cottages, cracked and weed-wrecked cobbled streets, and dry wells. If the mountains had often been silent, this place felt like a tomb. Was cold like a tomb. Smelled like one, dry and musty and drear. And like a tomb it held nothing of life.

They stood in what had likely been the public square, where naked, yellowed skeletons dangled from sagging, half-rotted gibbets. The rust on their chains spoke of infrequent rain.

Theyre not here, said Rafel, and rasped a gloved hand down his face. I dont understand. Where could they be?

He shrugged. Anywhere. This cant be the only village.

Maybe not, but its the first one, said Rafel. He sounded dismayed. Theyd have stopped here. Why isnt there some sign?

Stopped here for what? he said, impatient. Irritated by the mans distress. The place is barren.

I can see its bloody barren, Arlin. I aint blind.

He stared at Rafel, silent, until the Olken dropped his gaze. We should make camp. Come dawn we can inspect the place more thoroughly.

Aye, Rafel muttered. Aye, we might as well.

Rafel

I said all right! Dont you start with me, Arlin. I aint in the bloody mood.

That was better. A dispirited Rafel was more likely to limp than leap between him and a grisly death.

Ill find some firewood, he said. You pick somewhere for us to sleep. Not inside. If there are creatures in this blighted place, we must be able to see them coming.

Leaving Rafel to his task, he went foraging for something, anything, he could get to burn. Fuel was scarce. By the time hed gathered enough half-rotted, splintered woodcottage shutters, doors, window-framesto keep them warm for an hour or two, the Olken had settled on the remains of a tumbledown hovel one street behind the square. The shelter it offered was meagre, at best. The roof was long gone, which meant there was no inside. Two of its stone walls remained upright; the other two had half-collapsed. But at least if it rained, or if a wind came up, theyd be a little protected.

Provided the other walls dont collapse, and crush us in our sleep.

Im glad you find this amusing, Arlin, said Rafel, scowling. The glimfire hed conjured lit the paltry hovel with a fitful, reluctant glow. How much food and water have you got left?

Enough, he said, and busied himself getting the fire started. Once it was burning, the only cheerful thing in the whole wretched village, he spread his groundsheet and sat. Ate and drank sparingly, trying to ignore the queasy churn in his guts. Morgs leftover magics had smeared these lands like old, rancid oil, leaving nothing untouched. He could almost imagine himself breathing in the foul incants. Could almost feel them coating his bones.

Under cover of throwing more wood on the fire, he looked at Rafel, leaning against a bit of wall, hunched and miserable. Feeling their surroundings, yes, but moping for his missing friend as well. Sentimental fool. And then the Olken felt himself being watched, and looked up.

I didnt bring all Durms spells with me, you know, Rafel said, defensive. Just a few. And not a single one my da used against Morg. Those spells dont exist anymore.

Carefully, he sat down again. So your father claimed. But we know now your father was a liar.

Rafels face darkened. Is a liar, Arlin. He aint dead. And he aint a liar, either. He danced around the truth a bit, to protect Lur. It aint the same thing.

Danced around the truth? he said, incredulous. He said there was nothing out of the ordinary about you. Lie. He told Jaffee he never once felt unrest in the earth. Lie. He said the Council had seen all that was left of Old Doranen magic. Lie.

Like I said, Rafel muttered. He was protecting Lur.

What else has he lied about? And dont tell me nowt, because I know thats not true. He leaned forward, the fires heat caressing. Tell me, Rafel. What can it matter now? Lurs far, far behind us.

Maybe, Arlin, but once weve found Lost Dorana well be going back there, wont we? Rafel retorted. Dyou think Im going to tell you anything asll hurt him?

Do you think hell be alive to care?

Rafel shook his head. His shadow-smeared eyes were wide, and shocked. You are a sinkin, poxy bastard.

And you murdered my father. Dont think Ill forget.

Fine, he said, shrugging. Keep your little secrets, Rafel. I dont care. He held out his hand. Just give me those spells.

In the morning, said Rafel. Im tired now. I want to sleep.

Youre tired? He had to wait a moment. Had to subdue the urge to strike. I see. So that was a lie too? A shining example of like father, like son?

Rafel didnt quite manage to hide his flinch. Those spells are dangerous, Arlin. Theyre weapons. And like I said, Im tired. Ill show them to you when Im feeling more rested.

You think Ill attack you?

Rafel smiled. I think you think I murdered your father. He snapped his fingers, and the glimfire went out, plunging his hollowed face into shadow. Get some sleep, Lord Garrick. Morningll be here soon enough.

Long after Arlin had surrendered to his furious exhaustion Rafel sat awake, too tired to sleep, listening to the nights relentless silence. Feeling its emptiness. The deadness of this land scraped his nerves raw. Even Lurs discordant music was better thanthan this nothing.

And underneath the deadness, a dreadful, rank disease. The blight hed felt in Dragonteeth Reef, in the Weather map, unchallenged here and left to flourish. Sour and knotted, twisting everything it touched.

Will it twist me too, if I stay here long enough? Will it twist Arlin?

Although in Arlins case, it might not be possible to tell the difference.

The fire was dying, their supply of wood run out. But he didnt want to risk hunting for more. Arlin might wake. And if he woke alone, hed go after Durms spells. And that wasnt

You hear that? Arlin whispered, in the dark. Theres someone out there. In the street.

Yes. There was.

He heard it again, that peculiar, snuffling grunt. Almost like an animal, but the shape of it felt wrong. The sense, the presence. It was a man. Or almost a man. Heart thudding, raw nerves thrumming, he cautiously unsheathed the sword hed hoped never to use and stood in one smooth motion, tension obliterating his loud aches and pains. Arlin was on his feet already, easing close to what passed for the tumbled cottages door.

Joining him, Rafel touched his arm lightly. Wait. Wait.

A stealthy, shuffling sound. Another snuffling grunt. Whoeverwhateverwas coming, it was close to them now. Close closer

Now! he shouted, and pushed Arlin into the street. Leapt right after him, and as he leapt conjured enough glimfire to wash night bright as day. The mansthe creaturessnuffling grunt slid into a panicked scream. Half-blinded himself, Rafel raised the sword ready to maim or to kill.

And then he caught sight of their attackers terrified face.

Goose?

Flinging the sword away to clatter on the cobbles, he rounded on Arlin. Shoved him hard, both hands to the chest, as the Doranen prepared to strike with magic.

Dont! Dont! Cant you see, Arlin? Its Goose!

Arlin stepped back, for once surprised out of his customary self-contained arrogance. Leaving him to fend for himself Rafel turned again, to his friend.

Blinking in the glimlight, Goose shuddered like a shambled ox. Clothes near to rags. His filthy hair wild and unkempt, his face scabbed, his sparse beard straggled. Thin, so bloody thin. Worst of all, the dumb terror in his eyes.

Sickened, Rafel took a step towards him. Goose? Its all right. Its me. Its Rafel. He took another step, reached out his handand stopped as Goose raised an arm, whimpering.

Hes lost his mind, said Arlin, his contempt like a knife. His wits have wandered.

Poxy bastard. Shut up, Arlin. Youll fright him. Gentling his voice, he eased another step forward. Goose Goose dont be frighted. I aint going to hurt you. Youre safe. I promise. Its me. Rafel. Remember? He heard his voice break, felt tears sting his eyes. Arlinfetch Durms spells from my pack. Im sending Goose home.

No, said Arlin. You cant. He has to stay.

Stay? Even though Goose whimpered again, this time he didnt gentle his tone. He cant stay. Look at him, Arlin. Somethings happened to him. Hes hurt. He needs help. Pother Kerril.

Arlin shrugged. And he can have Pother Kerrilbut not yet. We need him, Rafel, even if he cant find his own pizzle to piss with.

Need him? he said blankly. Arlin

Are you as witless as he is? Arlin demanded. Rafel, weve got to find Sarle Baden and the others. We need all the mages we can get, in this place. And your friend here might be our only chance of finding them.

What? Arlin, how can he? Look at him. Look at his face. Like poor ole Jeds face, the eyes vacant. The witsyeswandered. The only place hell lead us is over a cliff.

So I was wrong about you, Rafel, said Arlin, coldly. Youre not your fathers son. Youre a pathetic, mawkish dolt. Youd let a kingdom perish to spare one man.

Arlin might as well have picked up that ole sword and shoved it right through him. Thrust it in one side of his heart and out the other. Spare Goose or lose Lur. Were those his only choices?

You think I dont know how you feel, sprat? I know. I spoke the words that killed my best friend.

Das words to him before he poured himself into Barls Weather map, and nearly died.

He was weeping, he could feel it. He didnt care that Arlin could see. Hating Arlin, for being Arlin, for being right, he tried to smile at his best friend.

Ive got to do it. Ive got to use him. Or Im not my fathers son.

I know youre frighted, Goose-egg, he whispered. I know you want to go home. And Ill send you home. I will. My word on it, man to man. Just help us a little bit, and then Ill send you home.

Get him inside, said Arlin. He might bolt, out here.

Tentative, he risked reaching out to Goose again. This time his friend didnt whimper or pull back. Instead, flinching like a bear cruelly tamed to do tricks, he let himself be led into their tumbledown shelter. Cause a part of him remembered? Or cause he was so addled and worn out he had no fight left? He didnt know. It didnt matter. All that mattered was this time, Goose listened.

Arlin followed them inside, picking up the discarded sword first, then tugging the glimlight behind him with one snap of his fingers. Propped the sword in one corner and stood beside it, arms folded, closely watching. What, did he think Goose might suddenly attack?

Bastard. Poxy bastard. I dont care if hes right. Before this is over I want him broken and weeping.

Rafel dropped to a crouch on his groundsheet. Here, Goose. Sit here.

Oh, and it nearly killed him, to see Goose stranded there, uncertain, barely able to understand such simple words. His best friend the gold medalwinning brewer, sure to be his guilds meister one day, just like his da. Funny and wise and amiable and loyal. Goose, who loved Deenie. Goose, who loved him.

Goose. Goose, Im sorry. Forgive me.

He glowered at Arlin. Hes all right. He wont run. He knows me, Arlin. He knows hes safe.

Really? With another finger-snap, Arlin dimmed the ball of glimfire almost to darkness. Enough light to see by, barely. Enough darkness to sleep. Then he knows more than I do, Rafel. I dont think any one of us is safe.

But that didnt stop the poxy shit falling back to sleep. Soon after, Goose slept too, huddled against the stone wall. And then, though he tried to stay awake, just in case of danger, exhaustion claimed him and he was plagued by terrible dreams.

Screams. Howling. Violent, bestial faces. Blood. So much blood. Flames and agony and feasting carrion crows. Wolves creeping out of the shadows, devouring corpses and the wounded and babies starving to death.

He woke at the first weak touch of sunlight, aching and sick. Full of misery and dread. Woke to see Arlin up and watching him, his expression disdainful, his eyes without warmth.

We might need your friend, Rafel, but hes your problem. Not mine. You can feed him, water him and wipe his arse, for I wont. And make sure he walks downwind of me. He stinks.

Rafel nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Broken and weeping, Lord Garrick. Broken and weeping.

Goose stirred awake then, so frighted, so lost. Soothing Goose, trying to ease his fears, wiped Arlin Garrick from his mind completely.

Helping Goose, he couldnt keep the tears at bay.

Im sorry. Im sorry. This is all my fault, Goose.

Eventually, their bellies teased with miserly mouthfuls of food and water, they left the desolate village behind. Took the overgrown road leading away from the ruined buildings, trustinghopingthat soon theyd stumble upon a larger, living village, or Baden and Pintte, or both. Goose still hadnt spoken, but he was calmer, and seemed content to follow them like a dog.

Rafel kept him close by. A dog. A bear. And his nickname was Goose. Is that what he is now? Just a beast? No more a man? The thought was enough to start him weeping afresh.

If he wasnt careful, he would weep himself to death.

They walked and they walked, athwart the rising sun, and saw no sign of Fernel Pintte or Sarle Baden or any member of their expedition. Saw no sign of any man or woman, or any hint that one had passed this way in days or even weeks. Perhaps longer. Rafel asked his friend again and again, Wheres that Fernel bloody Pintte got to? Dyou remember where you left him, Goose? But Goose only looked at him, mouth slackly open, eyes dull. No-one home.

They did come across rabbits, though. A sign of life, at last. Rafel, his mothers hunting son, killed six. They broiled them over a fire, devouring the stringy, poorly skinned carcasses like starving men which they were. Goose tried to eat the bones as well, and cried when Rafel stopped him. Then they found an odorish, sluggish streamand drank from it anyway. Filled their waterskins with the brownish sludge and trusted it wouldnt kill them.

When night fell, they slept. In the morning they woke, ate cold rabbit, drank foul water and started walking again, in silence. There was almost nothing to say. Rafel waited for Arlin to mention Durms magic. Demand again to see the spells. Curse and rail against interfering Olken. But Arlin never did. Perhaps he doesnt care anymore. I know I dont. All I care about is Goose. Show me the spell to fix him and then Ill get excited. Then Ill care.

Their journey continued through barren wastelands, through shallow rivers, into gnarled copses and out the other side. Three more villages they came to, all of them deserted. All of them dead. They caught enough game that they didnt perish from hunger. Found enough wood to burn that they didnt freeze to death. They walked for nine days seeing no-one. Learning nothing. No sign of Pinttes expedition. No sign of any life but the animals they killed to survive. And the tainted earth tormented them, gifting them with bad dreams.

Then on the tenth day it all changed.

Hold up! said Arlin, his clenched fist lifting. Do you smell that? Wood smoke and roasting meat.

Sunk into a mind-numbing stupor, barely aware of his body, its pains, his thoughts drifting homewardsAre you still alive, Da? Please dont be deadRafel staggered to a halt. Shambling Goose halted beside him, anxious, a whimper building in his throat. They were deep within another straggled copse, the afternoon sky criss-crossed with unhealthy branches, its light fractured and mean, their ankles held captive by brambles and blackweed and sickly foxfoot. Odd, to recognise such foliage so far away from Lur.

Aye, he mumbled. I smell it. Arlinbest be careful. We dont know if thats Sarle and

Arlin bit off an impatient curse. Stay here if youre afraid. With your witless friend. Ive no fear of strangers. Theyll do well to fear me.

So bludgeoned was he by nine unrelenting days of the blight soaking these lands like old, rotten blood, Rafel had no strength to argue. To caution arrogant Lord Garrick that he might not be the only bloody mage in these parts.

Arlin started towards the strong smell of wood smoke, and out of exhausted habit he followed. Goose stumbled along with him. He was beginning to wonder if it wasnt a cruelty to keep his sick friend here. He was beginning to fear that if he left it much longer, theyd be too far from Dorana City for him to send Goose home. For all he knew they were already too far. And if they were, and he tried Durms conjuring spell, Goose would die for sure.

Tomorrow. Ill decide tomorrow. I will.

Up ahead, the crackle of woodfire. A horses whinny, cut short. Voices, low and carrying. The copse thinned to a clearing. Without hesitation Arlin strode out of the shadows. Stinking and filthy, weeks and weeks unshaven, still he stamped about the place as though he owned it. Poxy, arrogant little shit.

Slowing, almost halting, one arm out to bar Gooses way, Rafel took in the scene.

Three horses, ungroomed, common-bred and ribby, tied in a line. A fat-sputtered fire, with spitted venison roasting above it. Twelve men on their knees, rope halters round their necks, yoked together and staring at the damp, leafy ground. An open fronted tent, tattered, but opulent once. A long time ago, surely. A man on a rickety chair alone in that tent, clothed in mothworn red velvet and a tarnished tin crown. He had silvery-blond hair

Sarle! cried Arlin, striding towards the seated man. Sarle Baden!

Blinking, Rafel stepped a few paces closer. Sarle Baden? ButbutInstinct stirred, a sluggish warning. Something was wrong here. Dreadfully wrong.

The blond man raised a hand in greeting and laughed. Yes. Yes, I am Sarle. I was Sarle. I might be Sarle again. And you are Arlin Gar-rick, my dear friend Rodyns son. Youve found us! Excellent. We were coming to find you. As soon as we felt you, we turned back. Welcome, Arlin. Welcome to my court!

The yoked, kneeling men jerked up their heads. Rafel felt himself stagger, seeing their faces. Felt the dark sickness, his constant companion, rise up in bile and disbelief to his throat. Cause there was Fernel Pintte, and the other Olken as travelled with him and Goose and Sarle Baden. No sign of the Doranen. The men yoked with them had red hair. Hed never seen a man with red hair before. But why were they yoked like that? What was going on?

Tugging at Gooses sleeve, he took another step closer. But Goose wouldnt budge. Turning, Rafel saw his friend was shaking like a wind-blown leaf, tears running from his terror-haunted eyes. Then Gooses knees gave way, and he dropped limbs akimbo to the patchy grass.

Goose, Goose, I cant stay here. Ive got to see.

So he left Goose behind, praying his friend would be safe, and crept a little further out of the trees. But the closer he got to Sarle Baden the more his belly churned. The more his blood bubbled, burning. Couldnt Arlin feel it? Why wasnt he running? And then he had to bend over, retching, cause he knew what this was. Hed nearly choked on it in Westwailing. Crossing the mountains. Crossing this land. The foul stench of Morgs blight, grown so thick now that if he had a knife he could cut it

Arlin was staring down his nose at his fellow Doranen. Sarle, he said, his tone so dismissive. So arrogant. So bloody typically Arlin Garrick. What do you mean, your court? What

Sarle Baden came out of his shabby tent, walking towards Arlin with both arms outstretched, a wide, welcoming smile warming his thin Doranen face.

Something was terribly wrong with his eyes.

Arlin fisted his hands on his hips. Sarle. I wont ask you again. What is the meaning of these ridiculous theatrics? The General Council

Has no power in my court, Sarle said gently, and rested his hand on Arlins travel-stained shoulder. But as I say, you are welcome. Sarle has been a disappointment. Competent but not brilliant. Makeshift, you might say. One does what one can. And now you are come, Arlin. Oh, I am pleased. Its not a moment too soon.

Closer now, Rafel could see that Pintte and the other men werent just yoked, they were hobbled and gagged with wooden balls in their mouths. Their eyes were wide with terror and most of them were weeping. Fernel Pintte was weeping.

For the first time in his life, Rafel felt sorry for the bastard.

Arlin shrugged off Sarle Badens hand. Lord Baden, clearly youre unwell. Too unwell to continue. You should return to Lur immediately. I will continue the search for Lost Dorana. I will

Ah Dorana breathed Baden. A name to pierce this exiles heart. But I cannot go home. I am sundered, Arlin. I am forgotten of myself. The painit is unbearable. I amI am The Doranen mages face twisted. I am Sarle Baden. I was Sarle Baden. II He let out an animal howl, half agony, half madness. I am burning out this inferior creature. Oh, the depths to which my people are fallen. Arlin

Rafel swallowed. I have to. I have to. Arlin, best you get away from him, he said, soft as he could. I dontI reckon he aint safe.

Irritated, Arlin turned his head. Shut up, you fool. Hes sick, thats all.

Yes, yes, I am sick, crooned Baden. His hand stroked Arlins filthy hair. But you can heal me, you beautiful boy. Youre strong. I can feel it. Perhaps youre the one Ive been searching for

Arlin! Rafel said again, making his voice snap. On the grass behind him, Goose whimpered and moaned. Are you bloody blind? Look at his eyes! Barls tits, you fool, he aint

Barl? whispered Sarle Baden. The bitch, the slut, the treacherous whore. His hand shifted from Arlins shoulder to the back of his neck, fingers curving. His teeth bared in a smile. Yes. Yes. No more Sarle. I shall be Arlin. And Arlin Garrick shall take me home.

No! Rafel shouted, as waves of blighting blackness boiled around Rodyn Garricks arrogant son. Arlinget away from him

With the last of his strength he reached deep inside himself for the magic that wasnt Olken. That had burst from him in Westwailing. That had helped collapse waterspouts and hold a whirlpool at bay and sent three good, suffering men safely home.

Sarle Baden gasped. His hand fell away from Arlin. Shoving the younger mage aside he took a step forward. Another. His terrible eyes were wide with wonder. With rage. Head tipped to one side, he stepped closer again.

Do I know you, boy? he whispered. Little mage, have we met?

Snared by that burning gaze, like a bird caught in quicklime, Rafel blinked. You dont remember?

Baden reached out both hands. His touch was fire and ice. Rafel felt himself weeping. Felt his strength stolen. Could hardly breathe.

Baden could breathe. Eyes closed, he breathed in deeply and slowly. I do know you he murmured. I know your scent. It is familiar. I know the taste of your magic. I know His crazed eyes flew open. I know your father. Youre his son.

Behind him, yoked to helplessness, Pintte was yelling round the wooden gag in his mouth. In front of him Arlin was staring, at lasttoo latean awful suspicion dawning in his arrogant face. Rafel

Sarle Baden was smiling. Rafel? Thats your name? Oh the power in you, Rafel. Have you any idea? Do you know what you are? What you could have been? What you will never be? I have been searching twenty lonely years for you

He tried to speak. Tried to break free. Tried to drop dead on the spot.

Sarle Baden pulled him close until they rested brow to brow. Deep in his eyes a black flame leapt high.

Say goodbye, Rafel the Doranen whispered. Say goodbye, little mage

He felt a battering of darkness. His heart pounding in terror. Revulsion and fury and grief and despair.

Nononono

The sun went out. His heart stopped. The screams died in his throat. And then, a lifetime later, he opened his eyes. Looked around himself, a new man. Looked around himself.

Morg.