I left Garranon and Tisala discussing the relative merits of both passes and approached Oreg, who was struggling with one of the oilskin tent coverings. My extra hand made short work of the problem.

“I need to talk to you,” I said to him.

Oreg found a seat on the raised root of a walnut tree. I crouched in front of him.

“Jakoven probably has his wizards with him,” I said. “He has Farsonsbane and he is something of a wizard himself. I don’t know how good he is, but Jade Eyes and Arten are both very strong—if ignorant by your standards.”

“You want me to take on the wizards while you attack the Bane,” he said neutrally.

“There is some connection between the Bane and me,” I said. And I worried that if it was I who confronted Jade Eyes, my fear of him would defeat my desire for his death.

He nodded his head. “Have you considered that the connection goes both ways? It might make you an easier victim.”

“Yes,” I said. “What do you think?”

“You said that you felt it recognized you?”

I nodded my head. “It felt a little like the magic of Hurog but more intelligent. I think it’s like the memories of Menogue—still tied to the remembrance of being dragons. I made it curious.”

Oreg rubbed his hands together as if they were cold. “Did it feel like one creature or three?”

I closed my eyes, trying to remember. “There was a . . . texture to it, yes. Not really separate, more like a rug where several strands of yarn are bound together.”

“So after your blood touched it, it recognized you,” he murmured.

“No,” I shook my head. “Before. It’s hard to explain. I don’t think the Bane was ever completely dormant—just powerless. As soon as Jakoven took it out of the bag he’d enspelled to hide the Bane, I couldsee blackness flowing from it, though neither Jakoven nor Jade Eyes seemed to see it. When the black power touched me, it knew me—or maybe it knew Hurog’s magic.”

“Did it feel evil?”

I shook my head. “No more than Menogue or Hurog.”

“And after he used your blood?”

I tried to remember how it had felt. “The stone turned blue, and I felt a wild surge of magic.” I remembered something else. “I think it was connected somehow to Jakoven—the stone’s blue magic. But the blackness was a separate thing.”

“We’ll play it the way you want to, if we can,” said Oreg finally. “I’ll try to stop Jakoven’s wizards and leave the Bane to you.”

I gave up crouching and sat on another root. It was wet, but not very muddy. “I wondered if the spell binding the dragon’s magic to the stone might not be similar to the one your father used to bind you to the keep.”

Oreg nodded. “Probably.”