He had found a cipher. He had broken it and it had given him the Lady's patronym, a name common in pre-Domination histories. Circumstances implicated one of that family's several daughters as the Lady. A little historical detective work had completed the task.

So he had solved a mystery that had baffled thousands for hundreds of years.

Knowing her true name gave him the power to compel the Lady. In wizardry, the true name is identical with the thing…

I could have shrieked. It seemed my correspondent ended on the brink of the very revelation for which I had been searching these many years. Damn his black heart.

This time there was a postscript, a little something more than story. The letter-writer had added what looked like chicken scratches. That they were meant to communicate I had no doubt. But I could make nothing of them.

As always, there was neither signature nor seal.

Chapter Twenty:
THE BARROWLAND

The rain never ceased. Mostly it was little more than a drizzle. When the day went especially well, it slackened to a falling mist. But always there was precipitation. Corbie went out anyway, though he complained often about aches in his leg.

"If the weather bothers you so, why stay here?" Case asked. "You said you think your kids live in Opal. Why not go down there and look for them yourself? At least the weather would be decent."

It was a tough question. Corbie had yet to create a convincing answer. He had not yet found one that would do himself, let alone enemies who might ask.

There was nothing Corbie was afraid to do. In another life, as another man, he had challenged the hellmakers themselves, unafraid. Swords and sorcery and death could not intimidate him. Only people, and love, could terrify him.

"Habit, I guess," he said. Weakly. "Maybe I could live in Oar. Maybe. I don't deal well with people, Case. I don't like them that much. I couldn't stand the Jewel Cities. Did I tell you I was down there once?"

Case had heard the story several times. He suspected Corbie had been more than down there. He thought one of the Jewel Cities was Corbie's original home. "Yeah. When the big Rebel push in Forsberg started. You told me about seeing the Tower on the way up."

"That's right. I did. Memory's slipping. Cities. I don't like them, lad. Don't like them. Too many people. Sometimes there's too many of them here. Was when I first came.

Nowadays it's about right. About right. Maybe too much fuss and bother because of the undead over there." He poked his chin toward the Great Barrow. "But otherwise about right. One or two of you guys I can talk to. Nobody else to get in my way."