She tried to calm Daren down a little, but he was incoherent; she hadn’t realized he cared that much for his father. So she just held him close, rocking him back and forth a little; it felt like the right thing to do, and it seemed to soothe him as well. He didn’t utter a sound after she stopped asking him questions, and that made her heart ache all the more for him. Those silent sobs bespoke more emotional pain than she had ever felt in her life....

Finally he stopped trembling; the storm of voiceless weeping that shook him went the way of all storms. She continued to hold him until she felt a little resistance, as if he wanted to pull away from her. Then she let him go, and he slowly raised his head from her shoulder.

Sun streamed in Kero’s window; ironically, it was going to be a beautiful day, but all prospect of enjoying it had just flown with the migrating birds. Daren winced away from the light, his eyes dark-circled, swollen and red, his face still white as the snow outside. “I think you should get some rest,” Kero said quietly. “I know you don’t think you’ll be able to sleep, but you should at least go lie down for a while.”

He bristled a little, which she took as a good sign. At least he wasn’t going to fall over helplessly and let her take charge of his life.

“Really, if you don’t at least go put a cold cloth on your eyes, you aren’t going to be able to see out of them,” she insisted. Finally, he nodded, and stood up.

“You’ll come get me if you hear anything, won’t you?” He seemed to be taking it for granted that she would be with her grandmother and Tarma.

That was as good an idea as any. “I will,” she promised, and got up to lead him out the door.

They parted company at his door, and she raced down the hall to the stairs, then took the stairway down as fast as she could without killing herself.

The common room was empty, but there was light coming from under the door leading to Kethry’s “working rooms.” Kero hesitated a moment, torn by the need to find out more information, and her reluctance to pass that doorway. Finally curiosity won out, and she tried the latch.

The door swung open at a touch, and Kero pushed it aside. At the far end of the room, Kethry was seated at a small, marble-topped table, bent over a large black bowl, and Tarma sat beside her, face utterly impassive. There was a light source inside the bowl itself; Kethry’s face was illuminated softly from below, her unbound silver hair forming a soft cloud about her head. Kero coughed delicately; Kethry ignored her, but Tarma looked up and motioned to her to join them.