He had no way of knowing for certain, but it felt as though he’d been travelling for days. Days in the suspended otherness of incant magic. No wonder he felt pulverised. No wonder he felt half dead. Venette was right. To attempt this had been madness.

But what a wonderful madness. To reach for something no mage has ever done before. To reach… and grasp it. This must be how Barl felt.

Understanding that, he wept a little. Because now, for the first time, he truly understood her.

And if I’d understood her sooner, would I be lying here now?

Lying in an open field, beneath a fading sky, in a land still torn and twisted with blight.

Although… not as badly as it was twisted when the Doranen fled their home. Despite the pain in his abused body, he could feel that much at least. Barl was right. Dorana was healing. In time its mages would be able to return.

Provided I can kill Morgan. Provided he doesn’t kill me.

His fingers were still wrapped about the hilt of his knife. Amazing. He tried to lift his arm, to look at the blade, but his bones had turned to straw and the straw was catching fire. Giving up in the face of such hot torment, he closed his eyes again and waited for it to pass.

The next time he looked at the sky, it was morning.

Damp with dew, skin chilled and muscles stiff, he fought to sit up. Won that small battle, and groggily looked around. Yes, he was still in an open field. Aside from grass and trees, he was the only living thing in it. But if he squinted north… if he strained his eyes…

That glitter on the horizon. I think that’s Elvado.

He heard himself groan. It was a long way to walk. And once he’d reached the city, he had further still to go before he reached the Danfey estate.

Perhaps I’ll find a horse. It’s only been a few months, I can’t have forgotten how to ride.

But until he found his horse, he’d be walking. And to do that, he had to stand.

Swaying on his feet, head swimming, Remmie groaned again. He was hungry. But at least his time in the wilderness had taught him how to hunt and forage. Whatever else happened, he wasn’t going to starve.

And if he thought about that, about hunting and foraging and filling his empty belly… then he’d be too busy to think of anything else.

Like his sister. Like Danfey. Like dying here, alone.

I had to do this, Barl. When you calm down, you’ll know I had to. I promised Mama I’d keep you safe, remember? And I always keep my word.