Yes. There. A dry, whining tone, sliding strangely between the intervals of the scale. He recognized it now as the mind song of a water-king, unmistakable in its quality and timbre even though he had never heard the song of this particular water-king before. He opened his mind to contact, and an instant later, with enormous relief, he heard the mind-voice of Faraataa:

— Y-Uulisaan?

— At last, Faraataa! How long I've waited for this call!

— It comes at the appointed time, Y-Uulisaan.

— Yes, that I know. But I have had urgent news for you. I've catted out to you night after night, trying to make contact before this. You heard nothing?

— I heard nothing. This is the regular call.

—Ah.

— Where are you, Y-Uulisaan, and what is your news?

— I am somewhere in Gihorna, far down the coast from Piliplok and well inland, almost at the Steiche. I travel still with the Coronal's party.

— And can it be that the grand processional has taken him into Gihorna?

— He has given over the processional, Faraataa. He journeys now toward Ilirivoyne, to hold conference with the Danipiur.

In response came silence, a silence so crisp and hard that it crackled like the lightning energies, with a sizzling hissing sound beneath it. Y-Uulisaan wondered after a time if contact had been lost altogether. But finally Faraataa said:

— The Danipiur? What would he want from her?

— Forgiveness.

— Forgiveness for what, Y-Uulisaan?

— All of the crimes of his people against ours.

— He has gone mad, then?

— Some of his followers do think that. Others say that it is only Valentine's way, to meet hatred with love.

There was another long silence.

— He must not speak with her, Y-Uulisaan.

— So I believe also.

— This is not a time for forgiveness. This is a time for strife, or we will have no victory. I will keep him from her. He must not meet with her. He may attempt to arrive at a compromise with her, and there must be no compromises!

— I understand.

— Victory is almost ours. The government is collapsing. The rule of order is breaking up. Do you know, Y-Uulisaan, that three false Coronals have arisen? One has proclaimed himself in Khyntor, and another in Ni-moya, and one in Dulorn.

— Is it true?

— Most certainly it is. You know nothing of it?

— Nothing. And I think Valentine knows nothing of it either. We are very far from civilization here. Three false Coronals! It is the beginning of the end for them, Faraataa!

— So we believe. All moves well for us. The plagues continue to spread. With your help, Y-Uulisaan, we have been able to find ways of countering the government's counter-measures, and making matters ever worse. Zimroel is in chaos. The first serious troubles have begun to arise in Alhanroel. Victory is ours!

— Victory is ours, Faraataa!

— But we must intercept the Coronal as he moves toward Ilirivoyne. Tell me your precise location, if you can.