As he walked his mind wandered, thinking back to Banouin and the freeing of the spirits. He wished he could forget all that had happened between them, and embrace his old friend as once he had. But it was not in his nature. He had loved Banouin as a brother, and had risked his life for him. Yet in his own hour of need Banouin had deserted him, and no amount of soul-searching could erase that deed from his memory. Banouin's friendship was part of the past, never to be rediscovered. The thought saddened him, as did the emotional withdrawal from his Rigante heritage.

Bane stumbled, and pushed himself to his feet. He felt warmer now – and knew he was in great danger. The last slow ten miles had taxed his strength and stamina. He was tempted to climb to the saddle and ride, but resisted it. The trail was too treacherous, and his horse deserved better treatment than that. He walked on, his mind full of daydreams and remembrances. He was a small child again at the Riguan Falls, and he and his mother had been swimming in the twilight. She had lit a fire, and cuddled him close.

Back on the hillside Bane blinked and looked around. He was sitting now, on a boulder. Why am I not walking? he wondered. With a great effort he rose. Weariness was upon him now, and he contemplated a short rest and sleep. That will bring back my strength, he thought. Fool! Get to the farmhouse, he told himself. You are dying here!

His legs felt numb and his limbs were trembling uncontrollably. The sun was dropping behind the mountains, the temperature plummeting, though Bane could no longer feel it. He had pushed hard during the last week, but had always been careful to make his night camp early before cold and exhaustion stripped his life away. But today he had thought to make the last eighteen miles in one long haul. It was a mistake. Through bleary eyes he looked at the distant farmhouse. He was still half an hour from his goal, and his strength was all but gone. At some point he must have let the reins go, for the horse was plodding on further down the trail. Bane staggered after it.

Twice more he fell. The second time saw him roll over and over until he came up against a snow-covered rock. He grunted with the pain of impact. Pushing his arms beneath him he tried to rise. He was hot now, and very sleepy. He swore and heaved himself to his knees. 'I will not die here,' he said, his voice slurred.