The outer skin was tough. He pressed and sawed—and it suddenly broke. Collapsing as orange liquid oozed from it. There was a dark shape inside. Herilak used the tip of his knife to push it free. Sanone was standing beside him now, looking down as well.

Looking at Kerrick’s silver blade that had been concealed inside. The knife of sky-stone that he had always worn about his neck.

“It is Kerrick’s,” Sanone said. “He is dead. They have killed him and cut this from him and sent it to us as a message that he is dead.”

Herilak seized up the blade, held it high so that it glinted in the sun.

“You are right in that it is a message—but the message is that Kerrick lives! He has done this thing—I don’t know how—but he has done it. He did not die in the north but lives now. And has conquered the murgu.” Herilak swept his arm out in a gesture that encompassed the valley.

“This is all his doing. He has defeated them. They have broken the dam and have killed their vines—and they are gone. That is what the knife says. We can stay here. The valley is ours again.”

He held the knife high in the sunlight, turned it so that it gleamed and sparkled, and roared his words aloud.

“Won! We have won—we have won!”

“You have lost, Vaintè,” Lanefenuu said, one eye on the erect figure at her side, the other looking with distaste at the filthy, fur encrusted ustuzou that stood on the other side of the valley staring back at her. Then she signed Akotolp to join them. “Is the destruction done?”

The scientist framed her limbs into completion-as-ordered. “The virus has been released. It is harmless to other plants, animals. But certain death for all of the newly mutated cells. They will die. The virus remains in the ground so any seeds that mature will die as well.”

Vaintè was scarcely aware of Akotolp and pushed her rudely aside to get close to the Eistaa, in a frenzy to deny what the Eistaa had last said.

“We cannot lose. They must be destroyed.”

So fierce were her emotions that her meaning was muffled as conflicting feelings tore at the muscles of her body. In a final spasm she faced Lanefenuu, menace in her every motion.

“The battle must not stop. You must not stop it.”

So strong were her expressions that Akotolp fell away with a cry of pain and the watching Yilanè raised their weapons, fearful for Lanefenuu’s safety. She waved them back, then turned on Vaintè with distaste her limbs.

“The ustuzou-Kerrick knows you well, Vaintè. It said you would disobey me, would ignore my orders if I did not deliver them myself. It was right in that. You disobey me, Vaintè, who swore to be my fargi for life.”

“You cannot do this—”