Barl looked at Remmie. “You’re very quiet.”

He shrugged. “Like Venette, I am astonished.”

“Remmie—”

He threw up his hands and half turned away. “What? What would you have me say? Your plan is brilliant and demented. And if the Olken agree to it—if they agree to do everything you ask—”

“We won’t be trapped here forever,” she said softly. “Morgan is powerful and angry but he’s still just a man. Forty years from now, fifty, the warding can be released. And if the world beyond the mountains has healed itself… and I must believe it can and will heal itself… then Dorana’s mages can go home.”

Shifting round, Remmie stared at her, the puckered scar on his cheek livid against his pallor. His eyes glittered in the glimlight, brightly sheened with grief and pain. And then he walked away.

“Give him a moment, my dear,” said Venette, holding out her hand. “This magic of yours…” She cleared her throat. “You ask a great deal of him.”

Only what she asked of herself. And if she could face this, then so could he.

“You do realise everything depends on the Olken?” Venette added. “Your magnificent folly will come to naught if they choose to stay as they are.”

“Yes, but why would they?” she said, baffled. “When I am offering them abundance and prosperity and an end to their troubles. This land is dying, Venette. I can’t believe they’ll not save themselves.”

Venette shook her head, wondering. “Magework to rule both weather and ward. To think I’ve lived to see such a thing.”

Barl smiled, wryly. “You haven’t seen it yet.”

“And I won’t, Barl, if you don’t convince the Olken to help us. The time’s come to talk to them. I know you think the choice is obvious, but I suspect that getting their consent for this won’t be a swift or easy matter.”

“Fine, fine,” she said, knowing Venette was right. “Can you ask Elder Chaffie to have everyone gather in the hall after supper? I’d like to rest for a few hours, before I speak to them.”

Venette nodded. “Of course.”

“Thank you.” She glanced at her brother, standing a long stone’s throw distant with his back turned and his outstretched arm braced against a tree. As though he’d fall in a heap if it didn’t hold him up. “Can you find her now? I’d like a moment alone with Remmie.”

“My dear,” said Venette… and shockingly, bent and kissed her cheek.

“Don’t,” Remmie said, when they were alone and she’d walked slowly, her heart unsteady, to stand behind him. “There is nothing you can say that will make this all right.”

She felt a rush of tears. Blinked them back. “You could finally say I told you so. That might help, Rem.”