She resumed staring out the window, no longer interested. She had lost six brothers as well as her husband and son. Well, five. Luxos was alive, living in the Kratchnodian Mountains like some crazy old hermit. Crazy like me, she thought. We both might as well be dead.

The world had taken everything. Everything but Varthlokkur and this child as yet unborn.

She could not care about them. She didn’t dare. Fate would punish her if she did. They would be taken too.

“Varth?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I really do feel Ethrian sometimes. I still don’t know what it means. Can’t you find out for sure?”

Varthlokkur sighed. “I’ve tried, dear. There’s just nothing there. I’m sorry. I truly wish there were. It’s just your heart trying to turn back the sands of time.”

He’s probably right, she thought. He’s so seldom wrong. But… there was some doubt. No one had ever actually seen Ethrian dead…. “It’s not imagination, Varth. It can’t be. He’s there. I know it.”

“Then why can’t I find him? Why can’t I find one shred of evidence that he survived? Why do I find so much that says he’s not? Stop tormenting yourself. Please. It’s not healthy.”

True concern edged his words. She sensed it and shied away. “It’s not false hope!” Emotion began to flavor her voice. It grew stronger as she shouted, “He’s alive and I know it! Why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not.” He spoke gently, as if to an injured, retarded child. “You’re lying to yourself. Please don’t. It’s not healthy.”

“Not healthy! Not healthy! Stop it!” She surged out of her chair. “It’s because he’s Mocker’s son, isn’t it? That’s why you want me to forget him.” Her reasoning was insane and she knew it, but the words just would not stop. She wanted to hurt someone, to give some of the pain away.

Agony tightened his features. He calmed himself before responding, “That isn’t so. And you know it. He was my grandson. My only. I loved him too. I would have done anything for him. But he’s gone now, Nepanthe. It’s time to accept that. Please. This is starting to tear us apart.” He took her into his arms.

She pounded fists against his chest, the irrational words exploding forth. “You’re lying! He’s alive. I know he’s alive. He’s in trouble, and you won’t help him.”

“Dear, this isn’t good for the baby.”

She kept hitting, weeping. Finally, she sagged against him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know… Oh!”

“What? What happened?”

“I think my water broke. That shouldn’t happen yet… Oh! Yes. It did. I can feel it.” Her mind became very clear. Not here! Not now! Please… Everything else fled. “Get a doctor. Wachtel if he’s still Royal Physician. Help me to the bed.”

Her voice had changed dramatically, had become all business.

Varthlokkur guided her across the room, turned her so he could help her lie down.