She fell silent then, letting the tears roll down her cheeks, seep between her fingers, trickle along her wrists. Who wept from her eyes? she wondered. Was it Lorn, or Laseen? Or was it for our kind? What did it matter? Such tears had been shed before, and would be again – by others like her and yet unlike her. And the winds would dry them all.

Captain Paran glanced at his companion. 'You've got a theory about all this?' he asked.

Toc the Younger scratched his scar. 'Damned if I know, Captain.' He stared down at the black, burned, crusted raven lying on the ground in front of them. 'I've been counting, though. That's the eleventh roasted bird in the last three hours. And, unless they're covering the Rhivi Plain like some bloody carpet, it seems we're on somebody's trail.'

Paran grunted, then kicked his horse forward.

Toc followed. 'And it's a nasty somebody,' he continued. 'Those ravens look like they was blasted from the inside out. Hell, even the flies avoid them.'

'In other words,' Paran grated, 'sorcery.'

Toc squinted at the hills south of them. They'd found a woodcutter's trail through the Tahlyn Forest, shaving days off their journey. As soon as they'd returned to the Rhivi traders' track, however, they'd found the ravens, and also the signs of two horses and one moccasined man on foot. This latter group of tracks was only a few days old.

'Can't understand why the Adjunct and that Imass are moving so slowly,' Toc muttered, repeating words he'd uttered a dozen times since the day's beginning. 'You think she doesn't know something's trailing her?'

'She's an arrogant woman,' Paran said, his free hand gripping his sword. 'And with that Imass with her, why should she worry?'

'Power draws power,' Toc said, scratching again at his scar. The motion triggered yet another flash of light in his head, but it was changing. At times he thought he could almost see images, scenes within the light. 'Damn Seven Cities' superstitions, anyway,' he growled, under his breath.

Paran looked at him oddly. 'You say something?'

'No.' Toc hunched down in his saddle. The captain had been pushing them hard. His obsession was running them down; even with the extra mount, the horses were near finished. And a thought nagged Toc. What would happen when they caught up with the Adjunct? Obviously, Paran intended to catch Lorn and the Imass, spurred by vengeance that overwhelmed his previous intentions. With Lorn dead or her plans awry, Paran's command would be safe. He could join Whiskeyjack and the squad at leisure. Assuming they still lived, of course.