Auberon's face changed. All his piety seemed to vanish, and rage burned in his eyes. His mouth twisted into a sneer. "It is a filthy shame! It is an impurity! A cruel curse, a—" He caught himself and forced a few deep breaths. He bowed his head. "Forgive me. Though I've been cured, some of the old anger still fills me." He shuddered, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply until his face calmed. "Perhaps some dragonfire still courses through my veins, though I strive daily to expel it. Watch, Laira and Maev. You have come here on the right day. Today is a Day of Redemption."

Farther back in the valley, the other druids—Laira counted fifty of them—lifted their staffs, and their voices rose as one. "Day of Redemption!"

Auberon walked toward them, leaving the boulder behind. He too raised his staff. Pewter charms, hanging from the shaft on leather throngs, chinked as he walked. "The Cured Druids welcome another to our order! Today a soul is redeemed."

The druids formed a ring in the misty valley. Around them, the inuksuks stared down from the rocky hills, four gods of the seasons. The veil of gray clouds swirled above, letting in only a single ray of light. As if summoned by the druids' call, the sunbeam fell within the ring, illuminating a flat stone on the grass.

Auberon raised his spear overhead. His voice boomed out across the valley. "Step forth, Eeras of the Mossoak Tribe. Step forth and be cured."

A man emerged from one of the grassy mounds. He wore a simple canvas tunic over leather britches. His feet were bare, his face unshaven, his hair scraggly and muddy. His eyes darted and his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.

"Step forth, Eeras," said Auberon.

"Step forth!" repeated the other druids, reaching out welcoming hands.

Glancing from side to side, the man shuffled forward. He walked with a limp, and he whispered feverishly under his breath. Tied to the boulder outside the ring of druids, Laira only caught snippets of his words: "I will be brave . . . I will . . . cured . . . for her . . ."

Finally, eyes damp, Eeras stepped onto the flat stone within the ring of druids. The sunbeam fell upon him, washing him with golden light. Tears flowed down the man's cheeks.

The druids passed around a pewter mug full of green liquid, and each took a sip in turn. When the mug reached Auberon, the old druid stepped toward the beam of light.

"Tell us of your sins, my son." The old druid smiled at the young man. "Tell us of your hurts."

Eeras's body shook as his tears fell. "I . . . I am a weredragon."

The druids all chanted, voices rising in song, their amulets rattling.