“What does seeing them through mean, exactly?” Lyne inquired, in a most polite and agreeable tone, to emphasize that he was not arguing.

“I don’t know,” Corvus admitted, “but I think we are all going to be glad that Ferhuul had the presence of mind to bring warm dry clothing. Our road runs south into the Stormland.”

“You’re saying,” said Prim, “that we are going to the Fastness. You want to penetrate the storm and break into the Fastness.”

“It has just been sitting there since the Fall of the Old Gods,” said Corvus in an almost defensive tone.

“Just the other day,” Lyne pointed out, “we sat and listened—very patiently, I might add—to a song from Weaver explaining that it’s locked up behind magical chains and such.”

“Anyway, no one can get anywhere near that thing,” Weaver objected. “The Expedition of Lord Stranath couldn’t even get within sight of it.”

“According to that one survivor, sure!” Corvus said. “But he turned tail and ran home when the Lightning Bears sprang their ambush. Not even halfway to the Precipice, which according to the Dark Codex is the first vantage point from which it’s possible to even glimpse the inmost convolutions of the Knot.”

“The Dark Codex blinds any person who reads it,” Weaver scoffed.

“You have to set it up in a mirror and read it backward,” Edda put in.

“Oh.”

“And I’m not exactly a person,” Corvus added. “Look, we have to go there—it is the entire point of the Quest—and we have many advantages compared to Lord Stranath. We will not be tackling the Lightning Bears, and the Vortex Wraiths are overrated.”

“I’ve never heard of them,” said Weaver. Behind her back, Mard and Lyne exchanged satisfied looks.

“Then the less said, the better. Coming to the Fastness? Our way lies south, on the surface for now. Abandoning the Quest? There are some perfectly serviceable canoes awaiting you just there.”

“And the whole Bewilderment to cross,” cracked Lyne to Mard.

“I can cross it,” Ferhuul pointed out, “as I have just demonstrated. And cross it again is what I am going to do now. Any of you is welcome to come with me.”

They all looked at him. After a few moments, he shrugged. “The only reason people like Weaver know enough of Lord Stranath to sing songs about him is because one of his company ‘turned tail and ran home’ when that struck him as intelligent. Such a moment has now arrived for me. You are all mad. I have seen all I care to see of angels and such. Farewell, and please look me up in East Cloven if you make it out, and sing your songs.”