As soon as Kerrick had spoken the words he stiffened, looking down at the ring and its flexible lead, then slowly raised his eyes to the smoking fire on the shore. Not water, even boiling water. But something that the Yilanè knew nothing about.

Fire.

It might just be possible. The substance wasn’t stone or metal. It might melt, or char, soften perhaps. If this happened it might then be weak enough to cut. Ortnar saw the direction of Kerrick’s gaze and struck his hands together with enthusiasm.

“Why not? Fire might do something to it. You said the murgu don’t have fire.”

“They don’t.”

“Let me try.”

Ortnar picked up the discarded ring at the other end of the lead and stepped over to the smoking ashes of the fire, poked it down into them.

Nothing happened. Kerrick looked on gloomily when he took it out and brushed the ashes from the smooth surface. It was unmarked—but he burnt his fingers. Ortnar sucked at them, then spat out bits of charcoal. Still determined he stirred the fire with a stick until it flamed up. When the stick began to burn he touched it to the ring.

Screamed and dropped it as it burst into scorching flame, crackling and exploding.

Kerrick saw the flame gush out surrounded by a growing cloud of black smoke, the ring burning, the fire flashing up the lead towards his face.

Unthinking, he hurled himself backward, away from the scorching heat. Fell splashing into the stream.

When he spluttered and rose to his feet again he saw the red weal across his arm and midriff where the burning lead had touched his body. It ended on his chest. With wondering fingers he touched the stub of the lead that ended there as well.

It was gone. This connection that had dominated his life, this restraint that had been with him all those long years. It was gone. He stood up straight, not feeling the burns, aware only that a great burden had been removed. His last tie with the Yilanè severed.

As they rubbed deer fat onto their burns, Ortnar pointed to the length of lead still hanging from the ring on Kerrick’s neck.

“We could burn that off too. You could lie in the water, just that much above the surface, I could get some burning wood . . .”

“I think we’ve done enough for one day,” Kerrick said. “We’ll wait until the burns heal before trying anything like this again.”

Ortnar kicked the hot metal ring into the water. When it had cooled he examined it with great interest, rubbing it with a stone. “It shines like skymetal. They have great skills, the murgu, to fit it about your flesh like that.” He reluctantly gave the ring to Kerrick when he reached out for it.

“It was molded in place by one of their animals,” he said.

“You will keep it?”