"That's my warhorse," said Fallis. "Do you remember why we were coming to Kolobia?"

Paks shook her head. "No. I wish I didn't feel so peculiar. Did something hit my head? Was it a battle?"

Fallis smiled at her. "You've been in several battles. Both on the caravan, and here as well. I think you'll remember them on your own when you've rested more. Your wounds are healing well. Do you need anything more?"

"Water, if there's enough."

"Certainly." The Marshal walked away and returned with a full waterskin. He set it beside Paks, then he and Amberion walked upstream, looking at the cliffs on the far side. Paks managed to get the waterskin to her mouth. She took a long drink, then looked around again. The dwarf was looking her way, talking to the woman. When he caught her eye, he rose and came toward her. She tried to think of his name.

"Good morning, Lady Paksenarrion," said the dwarf. His voice was higher and sweeter than she'd expected. She wondered how she knew what to expect. "How fare you this day?"

"I'm all right. A little—confused."

"That is no wonder. Perhaps even names have escaped you. I am Balkon of the House of Goldenaxe."

The name fit; Paks could almost think she remembered it. As she looked at the dwarf, the distant silent scraps of memory came nearer and seemed to fuse in his face. "Yes," she said slowly. "Master Balkon. You came with us from Fin Panir. You know about rock, where it will be solid or weak. You are a cousin of the Goldenaxe himself, aren't you?"

"Eighth cousin twice removed," said the dwarf with a smile. "I think you must be recovering very swiftly. We are glad it should be so, who saw you in such dismay."

"Dismay?" Paks felt a twinge of fear.

The dwarf's face constricted into a mass of furrows and then relaxed. "Is that not the correct term? You must excuse me, Lady Paks. I have not the skill in wordcraft as were I an elf. Dismay? Distress? Dis—oh, I cannot find the word, plague take it! But you were much hurt by those blackhearts, and that your friends sorrowed to see. And you are now much better, and we are glad."

"Thank you, Master Balkon," said Paks. She did not understand what he was talking about, exactly, but his kindness was welcome.

"I wanted to ask you—if it will not be too great a sorrow to speak of it—what those rockfilth used on your injuries."

Paks stared at him. "Rockfilth?"

"They corrupt the very stone, good stone, by living in its heart. Those blackheart elf cousins, I mean, who took you."

"Took me?" Paks shook her head, as a sudden chill ran over her. "I have no memory of such a thing, Master Balkon."

"Ah. Magics, then." The dwarf muttered rapidly in dwarvish; Paks caught only one or two words. He stopped abruptly and looked sharply at her. "You remember none of it at all?"