Logen sat cross-legged in front of the flickering fire, feeling the weight of worry in his stomach growing steadily heavier. He was starting to regret ever getting involved with this business, but it was a bit late now for second thoughts. 'Something to offer them will help,' he said, looking round, and found Bayaz already holding a metal flask out. Logen unscrewed the cap and took a sniff. The smell of strong spirits greeted his nostrils like a sorely missed lover. 'You had this all the time?'

Bayaz nodded. 'For this very purpose.'

'Wish I'd known. I could've put it to good use more than once.'

'You can put it to good use now.'

'Not quite the same thing.' Logen tipped the flask up and took a mouthful, resisted a powerful urge to swallow, puffed out his cheeks and blew it out in a mist over the fire, sending up a gout of flame.

'And now?' asked Bayaz.

'Now we wait. We wait until—'

'I am here, Ninefingers.' A voice like the wind through the rocks, like the stones falling from the cliffs, like the sea draining through the gravel. The spirit loomed over them in their shallow cave among the stones, a moving pile of grey rock as tall as two men, casting no shadow.

Logen raised his eyebrows. The spirits never answered promptly, if they bothered to answer at all. 'That was quick.'

'I have been waiting.'

'A long time, I reckon.' The spirit nodded. 'Well, er, we've come for—'

'For that thing that the sons of Euz entrusted to me. There must be desperate business in the world of men for you to seek it out.'

Logen swallowed. 'When isn't there?'

'Do you see anything?' Jezal whispered behind him.

'Nothing,' replied Longfoot. 'It is indeed a most remarkable—'

'Shut your mouths!' snarled Bayaz over his shoulder.

The spirit loomed down close over him. 'This is the First of the Magi?'

'It is,' said Logen, keeping the talk to the point.

'He is shorter than Juvens. I do not like his look.'

'What does it say?' snapped Bayaz impatiently, staring into the air well to the left of the spirit.

Logen scratched his face. 'It says that Juvens was tall.'

'Tall? What of it? Get what we came for and let us be gone!'

'He is impatient,' rumbled the spirit.

'We've come a long way. He has Juvens' staff.'

The spirit nodded. 'The dead branch is familiar to me. I am glad. I have held this thing for long winters, and it has been a heavy weight to carry. Now I will sleep.'

'Good idea. If you could—'

'I will give it to the woman.'