She stood and touched his face with light fingertips, a touch that burned like cool fire. “A vast difference, Tanaros. And yet it is not too late for you.”

He shuddered, removing her hand. “Believe as you will, Lady, but the sons of Altorus Farseer were chosen to fulfill Haomane’s Prophecy that in their loyalty they might bring down Lord Satoris. The truth is otherwise. It need not be a daughter of Elterrion, nor a son of Altorus. You and I would serve. Our seed holds the key to your perpetuation.”

“You!” She recoiled, a little.

“Our people. Any two of us. We hold within ourselves the Gifts of all the Seven Shapers and the ability to Shape a world of our choosing.” He spread his hands. “That’s all, Cerelinde, no more.”

“No.” She was silent a moment. “No, it is another of the Sunderer’s lies, Tanaros. If it were so simple, why would Haomane not so bid us?”

“Because he requires the Prophecy to destroy Lord Satoris,” he said. “We are all pawns in the Shapers’ War, Cerelinde. The difference is that some of us know it, and some do not.” Something in his heart ached at the naked disbelief on her face. “Forgive me, Lady. I had no intent of troubling you. I thought you would like the garden.”

“I do. And I am grateful for a glimpse of sky.” She drew Meara’s shawl tighter around her shoulders. “Tanaros. I am sorry for your pain, and I do not doubt that you have taken the Sunderer’s lies for truths. But Haomane First-Born is chief among Shapers, and I am his child. Your Lord need only bow to His will, and the Sundered World will be made whole. Can you ask me to believe aught else?”

“Yes,” Tanaros said helplessly.

Her voice was gentle. “I cannot.”

SIXTEEN

SIXTEEN

DWARFS CAME OUT OF THE gloaming.

It happened a few leagues west of Malumdoom, the young knight Hobard’s ancestral estate. As twilight fell over their kindling campfire, the shadows moved, twining like roots. Four figures, waist-high to a tall man, with gnarled faces and knotted muscles, spatulate hands engrained with soil.

“Yrinna’s Children.” Malthus the Counselor stood to greet them, bowing in his scholar’s robes. “Hail and well met.”

“Haomane’s Counselor.” One of the dwarfs acknowledged him in a deep, calm voice, then turned to Hobard. “Son of Malumdoorn. You have broken Yrinna’s Peace, bringing them here.”

“I had cause, Earth-Tender.”

The Vedasian’s voice was strung tight, Carfax noted. He sat quiet with his arms wrapped around his knees, watching with wonder. Dwarfs! Yrinna’s Children had not been seen west of Vedasia for long ages.

“It must be a mighty cause to break Yrinna’s Peace.”

“It is.” Malthus took a step forward, touching the Soumanië on his breast. “You have an item in your possession that does not belong to you.”