Irina felt slightly bad about tormenting the horse, but concern for her friends completely overrode it. Time was critical.

The facts were plain enough. Reaching a western lord who could muster a force to save his prince would take at least a week. There was no one within reach in the Junmarch who was likely to help. Her only option, besides simply leaving Jon, Elseth and Kent to their fate, was to ride south.

Kalgan meant to either force the western king into joining an invasion, or somehow blame the events in Ynglas on a raid from Mid-Melgen. Either way he meant to have a war. And her friends were to die as a simple side-effect. As an afterthought.

The fine eastern steed took her through a ravine in the Ridge of Kaisen and she quickly left the border behind. It sped her across the river that had borne her away from Vyslak, and on and on down the road.

Prince Kalgan’s awful history plagued her mind, as did memories of her friends, intruding randomly like bubbles in boiling stew. Memories of boring marches, intense danger, jokes, arguments, victories and failures, all the good and all the bad.

“People shape each other,” she said to herself with desperation. “Friends and family learn from each other. People need each other.”

The life had already taken Derek and many others.

“Not Jon and Elseth. Not them.”

She was unused to riding and her body quickly felt battered simply from staying in the saddle and managing the horse. But she kept on and showed the animal no mercy. The road became familiar, as did the landscape on her left.

Morning was nearing and Vyslak was nearby when the horse simply could be forced no further. Irina got down on unsteady feet and clumsily ran the final distance along the road.

There it was, sleeping and quiet as the earliest hint of light could be seen on the horizon. Irina entered it, yet again feeling unsteady from fatigue. She stopped for a few moments at a well to quench her thirst, then she kept on going.

She thought of what she was doing as she approached the inn by the bridge, and all that it meant.

She accepted it.

Irina stopped before the door and gathered her breath. She was not the least bit surprised to hear sounds of movement within. A faint light appeared in the cracks of the doorframe and Irina braced herself. Her fate was sealed and the fact brought relief and melancholy both.

The door swung open and Lady Lumiara stepped outside.

Just like their first meeting her presence hit like a physical force and Irina got down on her knees. It was far more than just the towering height and perfect confidence. Her power simply radiated out somehow.

She was clad as usual in a strange, pale robe that seemed to consist of multiple pieces, and her ice-blue hair hung loose, moving slightly as if in a private wind. Her skin glowed white, as did her eyes, only showing pupils when one looked very closely.

The first thing she did was put a hand on Irina’s shoulder. All her aches disappeared, as did much of the fatigue.

Ana and Bors stepped outside as well and closed the door behind them. Presumably the rest of the lady’s entourage waited inside, and Irina was rather glad for it. The two chalu took up position on either side of their mistress. Bors looked relieved. Ana, rather predictably, crossed her arms and looked mildly angry.

“There you are,” Lady Lumiara said with a faint smile on her face. The sound was as sweet as honey, even as there was an odd alien-ness to the way it carried.

“There she is,” Ana said with a put-upon sigh. “May I tie her up again, Mistress?” she added while looking Irina in the eyes.

“Maybe later, Ana,” the Bright Lady said tolerantly. “Speak, Irina.”

Lumiara’s presence made finding her voice difficult, but three years of having it within her mind at all times made it easier than before.

“I did... I did not want to hurt any of you,” Irina said. “I knew I was doing it, but... I fled for the sake of my friends. For the sake of the person I was, and for the sake of my instinct to resist control.”

“Your people have many instincts,” Lumiara said. “Some noble and worth encouraging, others destructive and worth suppressing. Why have you come back and put yourself in my power?”

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Irina bowed her head and took a deep breath. Then she looked up and sought those faint pupils.

“Lady Lumiara,” she said formally. “I offer my lifelong bonded service in exchange for a boon.”

“You offer what is already mine?” Lumiara said with a raise of an eyebrow. “What do you ask in return?”

“Prince Kalgan has violated a parley with Prince Walder and taken him captive. He means to trigger a war. He has also taken my friends. I ask that you allow me to go north and save them with your strength, and prevent whatever calamity Kalgan means to unleash. I also ask that you not interfere with my actions until I return across the border.”

“I see,” Lumiara replied calmly.

She was briefly silent.

“You ask me to violate the treaty. But the eastern prince is clearly in violation himself. There are many ills to cure in this world, born of fear and ignorance, and we are here to bring order. Your request is good and just. It also brought you back to me. I must grant it.”

Irina let out the breath she’d been holding.

“Thank you, Lady Lumiara.”

The Bright Lady reached inside her robe and brought out a familiar wide, crimson band. A tingle shot out from Irina’s stomach and into every part of her body.

This was it.

Lumiara knelt, making her merely one head taller than Irina. The lady reached out and touched her cheek. As before, Irina couldn’t decide whether that strange skin felt warm or cold. She found herself shivering slightly, but otherwise immobile. Here it was again. And this time she was going through it willingly.

Lumiara smiled, and it was as beatific as ever.

“Do not fear.”

The collar touched Irina’s skin, and for a moment she reflected that these were her last fully free thoughts. The band went around her neck and Lady Lumiara was looking her right in the eyes as the ends met and sealed together.

It all went away; doubt, fear, indecision and conflict, replaced by the warm, soothing feel of Lumiara’s embrace settling over her mind. It was like slipping into pleasantly warm water. An involuntary sigh of relief escaped Irina’s throat. It felt so good to be free of all that human anxiety. Lady Lumiara owned her again.

“Mistress...” she muttered.

“We are joined once more,” Lumiara said.

“Yes,” Irina said and touched the collar with both hands. Her neck felt back to normal.

All that chaos, fear and drama... it all seemed so silly now. What had she been so worried about? Her mistress would take care of her spirit.

Lumiara held out a hand and helped Irina to her feet.

“I am very glad to have you back,” the Bright Lady said through another smile.

Irina rolled her head around a bit, feeling the mild confinement that has simply become a part of her life. She laughed a little, before remembering the task before her.

Bors handed her ilthin over. The blue rope responded to the touch of its owner, feeling almost alive in her hands. She hung it in her belt. Ana held out Irina’s kayros. She took it, admiringly running a hand along the smooth surface, broken only by the runes of power. It went into her belt as well.

“Shall I lend her my tunic, Mistress?” Ana asked. “To make a statement across the border?”

“I think we had best not make any more of a statement than we need to,” Lumiara replied.

She put her hands on her hips.

“I wish we could make more of an occasion out of this, but you must hurry, Irina,” she said.

“Of course, Mistress.”

Bors put a hand on her shoulder.

“I am glad all of that is over with.”

She clasped his arm for a moment. Ana then clasped hers and more-or-less yanked her into a hug.

“I am glad too,” the woman said into her ear. “Though I wanted to be the one to bring you back.”

“I know you did,” Irina said and hugged back. “Always competing.”

“I am still going to tie you up when you get back,” Ana said wryly as she undid the makeshift ribbon in Irina’s hair again. “You deserve some punishment.”

She unwound the red and gold ribbon from her own wrist and tied it back around Irina’s ponytail.

“Consider this an early taste.”

She smiled as she stepped back.

“If it will make you feel better,” Irina said with a wry look of her own. “Thank you for holding on to this for me.”

She touched the ribbon and found it perfectly in place.

“Mistress, may I set off?”

“One last thing,” Lady Lumiara said. “How was your old collar broken?”

As always, lying didn’t even occur to her.

“My old friend Jon. Prince Walder lent him a strange, old knife. Presumably it is in Kalgan’s possession right now.”

“You are to bring it to me.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Now go. I shall lend you swiftness.”

Irina turned around and started running. She picked up speed as she left the village, reaching a sprint, and then she simply kept on sprinting. Irina’s body hummed with strength and her mind felt one with Lumiara’s as the Bright Lady poured more power than usual through the bond.