“The choice is yours, Dani.” Uncle Thulu’s voice was gentle. “Always and forever. That is the trust Uru-Alat bequeathed to the Yarru-yami, revealed to us by Haomane’s Wrath. We ward the Well of the World. You are the Bearer.”

Dani hunched his shoulders. “What if I refuse?”

“Then that is your choice. Do you want to go home?” With the tip of his bone-splinter toothpick, Uncle Thulu pointed southward, to the left of the lowering sun. “It lies that way, Dani. The rivers of Neheris run south. We have but to follow them until they sink beneath the earth and the desert begins.”

It was heavy, the vial. It hung about his neck like a stone. The water in it—the Water of Life—could extinguish the very marrow-fire. It had seemed like a glorious destiny at Birru-Uru-Alat. To think he held the power, cupped in his hands, to heal the world! The danger had seemed very far away. Even on the marsh-plains, when they had been attacked, it seemed there was no danger from which Malthus could not protect them. Not any more. Not since the Were had come out of the forest, silent and deadly. Not since he had seen the army of Darkhaven in the Ways in its incomprehensible numbers, led by one of the Three. All that Malthus said; it was true. Satoris the Sunderer had raised a vast legion and he meant to conquer the world.

And the Company that had sworn to protect the Bearer …

“Do you think any of them are left alive?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Dani,” Uncle Thulu said. “It didn’t look good.”

He turned his head and gazed in the direction of the setting sun, thinking about their companions. Malthus, whom he had believed could do anything. Blaise, steady and competent. The Haomane-gaali, Peldras, so gentle and wise. Proud Hobard, whose anger was not really anger, but a thing driven by fear. Fianna, who was kind and beautiful. And Carfax—oh, Carfax! The Staccian had saved him in the end. Tears stung Dani’s eyes. A golden wash of light lay over the mountain peaks, casting the valleys in shadow. Already the sun’s warmth was fading. He dashed away his tears with the back of one hand and took a deep breath. “How far is it to Darkhaven?”

Uncle Thulu shook his head. “I cannot be sure. A long way.”

“Can you find it?”

There was a pause. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes.” Dani laced his fingers about his knees to hide their trembling and met his uncle’s somber gaze. “If they died, they died trying to protect me. And if they did not …” He swallowed. “I would be ashamed to have them know I failed without trying.”