The crowd parted as she and Gahalatine started to walk, arm in arm, across the slabs of paving stone. She gazed through the crowd, and looking at those prostrate and receiving care, she finally spotted him on the floor by one of the support columns. She’d expected a body, cold and stiff, but he was breathing. They were slow, shallow gulps, but where there was breath there was hope. Haley knelt by him with tears in her eyes. Trynne, awestruck, released Gahalatine’s hand and rushed over to where he lay.

Staeli’s face was chalky gray, his mouth twisted into a rictus of agony. It was heart-wrenching to see her friend and protector in such pain, but he was conscious, and he blinked in recognition when he saw her.

“Hello, lass,” he said with a groan. “We’ll keep fighting. I’m feeling much better. Give me a moment . . . I’ll be back on my feet. We’ll drive these blackguards out of the North.”

She reached out and touched his arm and invoked a word of power for healing. Her magic shrank and she felt herself grow dizzy at the discharge of power.

“You’re alive, Captain,” she said with relief, feeling tears trickle from her lashes. “I’m going to end this war. We won.”

His brow furrowed. “Don’t be rash, lass. We can hold them off longer.”

“I know, Captain,” she said, watching as the trembling in his body began to subside. “We didn’t surrender. The Fountain knew this would happen. What I do, I do willingly.” She gave him a tender smile and kissed his sweaty brow. When she rose, she saw Gahalatine standing nearby, speaking in low tones with the surgeon who had worked on the captain. His Wizr stood beside him.

“My sister wounded him,” Gahalatine said somberly to Trynne. “He still lives?”

Trynne nodded, grateful that she had returned when she did. He had been going through the death throes, but her spell was taking hold and healing him on the inside. She offered a quiet prayer of gratitude to the Fountain that she had known the right word to use.

Then, taking Gahalatine’s arm again, Trynne proceeded across the rest of the hall to the place where Drew, Fallon, and a few others were waiting. Fallon’s leg was bandaged and he was leaning on a pike to hold himself upright. He looked anguished as he watched her approach, her arm linked with the enemy’s. Drew’s look bespoke his curiosity. Gahalatine’s sister stood near Fallon. Her armor was gone and she wore a long, nondescript gray tunic. She was studying her brother and Trynne with interest. Off to the side, Morwenna was glaring at them, her eyes full of anguish and disappointment. She seemed to understand exactly what had happened.