‘All right,’ he said then. ‘Now we know where all the gloom was coming from, and there’s not really much point in ploughing over it again and again, is there? It was nobody’s fault, so why don’t we forget about it? We’ve got more important things to think about right now.’ He held up the steel-link pouch. ‘Here’s our blue friend,’ he told them. ‘I hope it’s comfortable in its little iron sack, but comfortable or not, that’s where it’s going to stay – at least until we need it. Whose turn is it to cook breakfast?’

‘Yours,’ Ulath told him.

‘I cooked supper last night.’

‘What’s that got to do with it?’

‘That’s hardly fair, Ulath.’

‘I just keep track of these things, Sparhawk. If you’re interested in justice, go and talk with the Gods.’

The rest of them laughed, and everything was all right again.

While Sparhawk was preparing breakfast, Sephrenia joined him at the fire. ‘I owe you an apology, dear one,’ she confessed.

‘Oh?’

‘I didn’t even suspect that the Troll-Gods might have been the source of that shadow.’

‘I’d hardly call that your fault, Sephrenia. I was so convinced that it was Azash that I wasn’t willing to admit any other possibility.’

‘I’m supposed to know better, Sparhawk. I’m not supposed to rely on logic.’

‘I think it might have been Perraine that led us in the wrong direction, little mother,’ he said gravely. ‘Those attacks of his came at Martel’s direction, and Martel was simply following an earlier strategy laid down by Azash. Since it was just a continuation of what had been going on before, we had no reason to suspect that something new had entered the game. Even after we found out that Perraine had nothing to do with the shadow, the old idea still stuck. Don’t blame yourself, Sephrenia, because I certainly don’t blame you. What surprises me is that Aphrael didn’t see that we were making a mistake and warn us about it.’

Sephrenia smiled a bit ruefully. ‘I’m afraid it was because she couldn’t believe that we didn’t understand. She has no real conception of just how limited we are, Sparhawk.’

‘Shouldn’t you tell her?’

‘I’d sooner die.’

Kurik’s speculation may or may not have been correct, but whether that constant wind which had choked them with dust for the past few days had been of natural origin or whether Bhelliom had roused it, it was gone now, and the air was clear and cold. The sky was bright, brittle blue, and the sun, cold and hard, hung above the eastern horizon. That, coupled with the vision of the preceding night, lifted their spirits enough to make it even possible for them to ignore the black cloud hovering on the horizon behind them.