In the time since Amber's son had been taken from her, the unlikely friendship between the two women had grown. Lina was a tall, stern Halrana, with an unforgiving manner and the lines of a hard life written across her face. In contrast, Amber was young and had often been told she was pretty, with dimples when she smiled and gentle eyes. Yet here in the prison camp, both women were determined, more than any of the rest, and both shared the loss of a child. Lina had seen her babe trampled to death at the battle at the Bridge of Sutanesta, but still the woman hadn't given up. Amber knew she, too, would never just fall down and die, like so many others in this terrible place.

Lina had taken care of Amber after the baby's delivery, and they began to take walks around the camp together, ostensibly to help Amber regain her strength, but in reality so the two could talk together and deliver instructions to the other prisoners. With the lean diet and regular exercise, Amber's clothes began to fit her again, and her belt was now as tight as it had been many months before.

The guards again took an interest in her, something Amber took full advantage of, but they knew Moragon had laid claim to her, and she could flirt with them and earn small indulgences without having to compromise her safety.

Then Lina had shown up with the essence and the scrill. Lina knew Amber was an enchantress and that they needed a way to signal their liberators. She didn't tell Amber how she'd managed to get the essence, and Amber never found out more.

Amber sent a message to Rogan Jarvish to say that she would signal the way with a green light. She'd then set about enchanting some flashbombs and a few other tricks. But she knew the light would have to be bright, and with one night remaining, Amber still hadn't finished.

With a sigh, Amber set to work. She knew it was dangerous beyond belief to use essence without gloves — a single spilled drop and she was dead — but there was nothing for it. Amber sat the glass bowl, as large as her head, on her knees, and dipped the scrill into the mouth of the vial of essence, holding it there for the barest instant before withdrawing it and setting to work on the glass.

Smoke rose from the glass, and Amber turned her head to prevent it going into her nostrils. Her hand moved with slow, careful movements, as she struggled to remember her classes at the Academy of Enchanters. She was only trying to enchant a nightlamp, she reminded herself. Well, perhaps a very powerful nightlamp, but a nightlamp nonetheless.