"But, Primate, the amount of life energy in a human is still not that great. For what you're asking for the war effort you will need mountains of the dead. The Akari themselves cannot field the draugar in battle for long, not with the amount of essence they possess, and not in this climate, which is warm by their standards. Where do you expect to find so many of the dead?"

Melovar's smile broadened. "Why, where else do the dead come from? From the living. Zavros, I've already begun. The prison camp in Halaran was the first, but we can set up more, here in Tingara."

"Prisoners? Primate, they aren't dead," Zavros said flatly.

"Easily remedied. Oh, surely you aren't having a crisis of conscience now, Zavros? The things I've seen you do. And think, you will have free run of the camps. You can perform any experiments you want on them. Think of all you will learn."

"There is one experiment." Zavros looked up. "You wouldn't let me do it before."

"That? Zavros, you can have an entire camp to yourself, where you can do whatever you want. I will give you books, apparatus, assistants, anything gilden can buy. You can build your quarters and laboratory right next to the camp."

"The apparatus do not come cheap."

"Anything, Zavros, provided the essence takes precedence. Go and build the vats. Moragon knows nothing takes greater precedence — you can look to him for whatever you need. Bring me essence and bring me elixir. We are in a race against the Akari. Dain Barden cannot see any weakness."

Zavros stood and bowed. "It will be done."

21

21

AMBER lived in constant fear for her life, and that of her unborn child. Life in the prison camp in Halaran was hard, but since Moragon had taken over the running of the camp it had grown worse. Much worse.

She'd almost died, after her failed escape attempt. The guards had beaten her remorselessly, the hilts of their swords knocking her to the ground and their heavy boots kicking again and again at her head and back as she curled up and waited for the end.

Somehow, though, she'd found reserves of strength from deep within, and under the tending of her people Amber had survived. She had been terrified she would lose her baby, but one of the prisoners had been a midwife, and assured Amber that the baby was unharmed.

When the woman told her, Amber had cried, for the first time in weeks. She'd cried for Beatta, the Halrana who had died so close to freedom, and for Ness, the old woman who had sacrificed herself just to give them their chance. Most of all, she cried for her child. Amber had tried, but she had failed. Her child deserved its chance at life.