“No.” Lord Satoris raised one hand. “No,” he repeated. “I do not need to know what lies in the hearts of these Men, who beheld the flight of Malthus the Counselor and his colorless Soumanië, that is so strange and altered. Still, I may use them as an example. Let Staccia see how I deal with oath-breakers, and Haomane’s Allies how I deal with those who would destroy me.” He smiled. It was not a pleasant sight. “Go, Dreamspinner, and send General Tanaros to me. Yes, and Lord Vorax, too.”

“As you will,” Ushahin murmured, rising.

“Dreamspinner?” The Shaper’s voice had altered; the unlikely gentleness had returned.

“My Lord?”

“Remember,” Lord Satoris said. “Whatever happens. All that you have learned. All that you have seen. It is all I ask.”

Ushahin nodded. “I will.”

SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE OF the night, Uncle Thulu’s strength began to wane.

Dani felt it happen.

He had done his part; he had not argued. Once he had regained his breath, they had come to an accommodation. If Uncle Thulu would lower him from his shoulder, Dani would suffer himself to be carried on his uncle’s back.

He had wrapped his legs around his uncle’s waist, clinging to his neck. Uncle Thulu resumed his steady trot. It made Dani feel like a child again; only this night was like something from a child’s nightmare. What did the desert-born know of rain? After the storm passed, it continued to fall, endless and drumming, soaking them to the skin. It was cold. He had not known it was possible to be so cold, nor so tired. Dani rested his cheek against Uncle Thulu’s shoulder. The vial containing the Water of Life was an uncomfortable lump pressing into his flesh. Still, through the rough wool of his shirt, he could feel the warmth rising from his uncle’s skin, warming him. It was one of the gifts the Water of Life had imparted.

When it began to fade, he felt that, too. Felt the shivers that raced through his uncle as coldness set into his bones. Felt his steps begin to falter and stagger. Slight though he was, Dani was no longer a child. His weight had begun to tell.

“Uncle.” He spoke into Thulu’s ear. “You must put me down.”

It took another handful of staggering steps before his uncle obeyed. Dani slid down his back, finding his feet. His limbs had become cramped and stiff, and his right arm did not quite work properly. Every inch of flesh ached, bruised and battered by his flood-borne tumble down the rocky slope. Still, he was alive, and he had recovered enough strength to continue unaided.

“Can you go on?” he asked.