"And still you refuse to believe us!" Bellowed ser Robard Hooke, Elder Sage of the Squared Circle, Master of Articles at Esper, the Three and Thirtieth Grand Mystery School. A myriad titles swam circles in Cara's head. The entire court had gathered in the Great Hall, and she'd spent her entire morning listening to shouts and cries from lords and ladies, counts and viscounts, dukes and earles, and masters of every possible guild and trade. Only when the Esperians spoke up did she listen. They alone seemed to have at least a notion of what the Wound in the Night, as it was called, might be. Their notion was strange, to be sure, but they alone had one.

Ser Robard Hooke was a short man of ninety, though he looked iron hard and fighting fit. He'd removed his blue chaperon to reveal a bald head crowned by a circlet of starry white hair. His voice was deep and clear as the trumpets that blew when Derrion's Long Patrol's returned from their dangerous sojourns. It echoed off the walls and vaulted ceiling, danced around the statues and gained further strength in the beak of the Phoenix King. When he spoke, others were silent. Though, as Cara was growing weary of seeing, his powerful voice did little to sway any but a few.

Lord Seifus Fisher, a venerable man the size and shape of a bear, was one of the few to back the Esperians. "You waste your breath, Ser," he said. "Let the halfwits filter out in dumb bemusement, so the wise may remain and learn whilst they go and gossip in the winebasins."

"Is that the way of it, Seifus?" shouted Lady Jayna. "Only those who agree with you may stay? How can you put any stock in your beliefs if you can't stand to have them challenged?"

Cara looked around at her household. Istan was trying very hard not to look as bored as he was. Gislain wore a blank expression, breaking her silence with occasional sniffles that almost sounded like sobs. Dennel sat next to Cara, where her mother should have been. He looked tired, as if he'd relived every battle he ever fought the night before. Howl sat by Dennel, where Hale should have been, and their lords bannermen were gathered behind with their families. Cara would have had Hale and her mother's seats left empty, were chairs not such a sought after commodity in this crowded hall. She felt close to swooning in the heat of all the gathered bodies, and had fought the torrid air by drinking iced wine, which she regretted when her bladder began to cramp.

She longed for the meeting to end so she could speak with Derrion about other matters besides the dark hole in the sky. The Wound in the Night had terrified her, of course, and she desperately wanted to know what it was. But the morning's debate had revealed nothing conclusive, and now she just wanted to use the privy and have a chance to speak with the king. She was livid with him, and would inform him of how little she cared for the meeting he'd arranged between her and Ror. But mostly she wanted to speak of Hale. All morning long, servants and guards were scouring the castle looking for him, and now it was almost noon.

I shouldn't have said those things to him. The words were true, though. She was appalled at what Gammon told her of Hale's years in Eruhal. For him to act in such a manner his first year, one could excuse, but to continue such behaviour into has manly years was a shame to all High Alden. What's left of it, she thought sadly. Another matter she wished to speak of, was an idea Dennel had.

"You might petition His Grace to send riders south, to the green hills, and see how our people are faring," he'd told her before the full court had gathered. "I'd send our men along as well, naturally, but when our people see Eruhal's knights riding with ours, they will be encouraged."

"I agree," Cara said eagerly. She hoped they wouldn't feel abandoned when they saw their new king had gone north to find help for all of them. A creeping worry had been growing in her mind as well. She wondered if the gnolls would leave her people alone, now that their realm had been riven. We've done them no harm, she thought, trying to comfort herself.

Court was recessed after a very long time. It was almost two o'clock, and her bladder was ready to burst. After hurriedly relieving herself she went looking for Derrion, only to find he'd vanished into one of his secret rooms. There seemed to be a great many of those rooms in Gwynd.

"He wants to speak with you," Jarral told her, "but not till evenfall. Best to wait till then."

She nodded. It would have to do. "Have you seen Hale?" she asked.

"No, Highness. He's likely in one of his little escape holes, as we used to call them. I could check to see which ones have been searched, if you like. Mayhaps our men have missed a few."

"Would you? I feel simply awful, speaking to him as I did."

"You've all endured a great deal, Princess. I wouldn't be too harsh on yourself. Don't worry now, we'll find His Grace. Or, like as not, he may simply show himself when he's ready."

That thought comforted Cara so much she asked Jarral to call off the search. She felt it better to give him the space he needed.

"I imagine His Grace is punishing himself more than even you'd like to," Kylie said when Cara had returned to her apartments. Kylie was brushing her hair, being careful not to snag it as she had in Thrond. Thrond.

"How do you feel towards the dwarves?" Cara asked.

"Begging your pardon?"

"Do you hate them? Please, Kylie, speak freely, as Keelie would have done."

Her brush snagged, but she stopped and freed it gently before continuing. "If it pleases Your Highness, though I may speak a bit more politely than poor Keelie. I suppose I feel frightened of them, and a great deal saddened. But, well, you wanted me to speak freely, Your Highness, and, no disrespect to His grace but, your father did play it loose behind the curtain, so to speak. And, as my father used to say before he upped and away, 'if you wave your torch about, you're like to burn your whole house down'. My ma often said that's why he left, as he couldn't help waving his torch about. I never did learn what exactly that meant."

Cara had a notion, and it was not a thing her father ever did, but the meaning worked well enough.

"So you don't hate Ror, or Halfur, or Klar or Yemi?"

She stopped brushing. "No, Your Highness. Though, be it known, I'm right behind you, in all things. But, if you're still wanting me to speak freely, I rather enjoyed our tarriance in Thrond. It made me all sorts of nervous, but it was a fantastical place, with so many sights and wonders you won't find anywhere else. Before she passed on, our ma told us tales of the dwarves, how the three kingdoms were started by brothers who went their separate ways. I don't doubt His Grace told you more accurate tales than our silly old ma, though."

Cara thought fondly of all the nights her and her father both would be awake till well past midnight, each reading by candle light in separate rooms of the castle. "He told me lots of tales, though I didn't listen nearly well enough."

"Well, when we go back, we may find lots of his books still in good shape, and you can read up on all the tales you didn't listen to. Which reminds me, that Lady Jayna, she told me to pass on a message. She said you were supposed to meet someone the night you saw... him. She says you'd do well to speak with him, and that she could introduce you, since the King is indisposed till late."

"I remember. He's one of the Esperians. His name's Erudan."

"They seem a well informed lot. I've spoken to one or two of their ladies. One of them was a dwarf, and full of knowledge. Said she's corresponded with Queen Halfi from time to time. Said something about some catacombs under Thrond that no one's been inside for over an age. Mayhaps this Erudan could tell you what that dark thing in the sky was."

"Mayhaps. I suppose I'll go see him. It would be nice to hear their thoughts on it, without being constantly interrupted."

Kylie started brushing again. Cara could tell she was feeling more calm.

When her was done she changed out of her gown into plainer and more comfortable clothes. She wore a skirt over light breeches, a leather tunic over a bodice, and tied a thin cloak over her shoulders. The wore a necklace with the Autumn Triske, one that reminded her of the one Balvor made her aunt, then left for Erudan Penwright's shop with a pair of her guards in tow. Along the way she stopped where their soldiers were staying and looked in on Dennel, but he wasn't there.

"He went to speak with Lord Luhmen," the men told her. "Said he had something to talk about. We don't rightly know, but some of us think it has to do with Ser Howl."

Cara furrowed her brow, then went on her way. Ser Erudan's house was not far, but it took her a long time to wend her way through the crowds milling about the Inner Ward. A great big swan was standing guard outside his house. The bird waddled towards her as she approached, honking and fluttering its wings. One of her guards began to draw his sword. She reached and grabbed his arm.

"Pardons, Your Highness," he said, "I was just going to scare it off."

She nodded and let him go, but the bird had waddled around the far side of the house. She knocked on the door and waited till she heard a voice shouting out the window at the swan, then knocked again.

"Hold your tits!" shouted an old man's voice.

Cara laughed. The door opened a moment later, and the old man blushed as he bowed.

"Forgive me, Your Highness. I've suffered a near constant barrage of visitors since court was dismissed. Please, come in. You won't need your guards."

She nodded for them to wait. "Might you spare them some food and drink?"

Erudan looked about his cluttered house, as if he'd forgotten where his own larder was. "Boy, bring some poppy cakes and a horn of ale."

A moment later, a small boy came with a tray laden with so many cakes she couldn't see his face.

"I said... Oh I'll fetch it." Erudan went into the larder around the corner of the house and came back with the ale. He then looked down at his servant as her guards took the tray. He opened his mouth to speak as the boy turned around. Cara's heart skipped.

"Audun," she said, feeling shaky and nervous.

Audun smiled and waved. "Hullo Cara! Have you come to see Dan's Book of Tides? It's even better than mine!"

He has no idea, no notion at all of what Ror's done to us. She calmed herself, reminding herself that Audun was not as other children. "Then it must really be something." A thought struck her then, and she asked one of her guards to go to her room and fetch Noxi's book.

"I'm terribly sorry for what's happened," she then said to Audun, "to both our realms."

He nodded, then smiled again. "Dan has books from everywhere! And he lets me read them all." He then went to Erudan and hugged his leg. Erudan smiled and rolled his eyes.

"He's the son I never had. Let go, boy. Go finish copying that codex from Ungar."

"Ungar?" Cara cocked her head to the side.

"Oh, a large island north of Miur. According to mariners it's unpopulated. There's vast ruins there, though. We send expeditions out that now now and then. Have you eaten, Highness?" There was a light in the man's eye as he spoke to her. It reminded her of Dennel.

"His Grace wanted me to meet with you, and no, I haven't touched food since before court. I hate to impose upon you."

"Oh, it's no bother. Audun, fetch the princess some fruit and cheese. I have a pair of partridges on a spit. They should be done soon. If that's not enough, I can roast that confounded swan."

"I saw him. He's a beautiful bird. Does he land here often?"

Erudan nodded, and a grouchy look crossed his face. "Every blasted day. I saved him from a cat, when he was small. His wing never properly healed, so I feed him, which is why he spends nearly every waking moment honking outside my window."

A big cat with shaggy grey fur came into the foyer, as if summoned. She rubbed against Erudan's leg, leaving a mess of grey fur on his blue robe.

"Was it this cat?" Cara asked.

"Her sire," he said disappointedly. "I've often considered loosing her on him. But she heeds my counsel about as well as our new king. Boy!"

Cara heard a clamour as Audun hurried to the larder and rummaged through it. He came in with a platter laden with a smattering of dried breads and hard cheeses, and a bunch of old grapes.

Erudan swatted the back of his head. "I said fruit, not mold. Go bring fresh grapes, and pomegranate. Then you can get back to work. He enjoys work! Such a rare child."

"He deserved that swat," Cara said, remembering the scene he made when she'd revealed her visions to Halfi.

"And all the others I've given him. His people were overjoyed when I agreed to watch after him. I understand Derrion arranged for a meeting with you and ROr, without your consent."

Cara sighed as she sat at the table in the middle of the foyer. Erudan quickly cleared a space for her among his scrolls and half empty inkwells. "Audun must be thrilled to be here."

Erudan raised his brows and nodded. "He's most enthusiastic. I'll be sorry to see him go. Derrion agreed to help the dwarves reclaim Thrond, and plans to send the boy back with his troops. Princess Cara, were I not in danger of losing my hand for doing so, I'd strike Derrion across the mouth for being so cruel to you and Ror."

"And Ror? He killed my father. I'll be haunted for life by that memory." She went abruptly silent and busied herself with the assortment of cheeses. They were sour, and some overly salty. She felt relieved when Audun came back with another board, this one covered in sliced pomegranates.

"I cut them for you!" he said eagerly.

"I see that," Cara replied. "You have my thanks." She picked the seeds out greedily and ate fast, trying to soothe her groaning stomach. Erudan produced a cloth from a cupboard by a window and she wiped the juice that had dribbled down her chin.

"That's a lovely pendant," Erudan said.

"It reminds me of my Aunt. I hope she's alive and well."

"She hasn't been found, but when Audun saw her last she was alive. It took some cunning, but I managed to learn from him that she was looking after the children from the citadel, and they managed to escape. Audun wandered away and found a group of refugees that followed the others north."

"Well," Cara said after dabbing her chin again, "I'm glad she's with their children. They may send people searching for them, and so find her. I only hope they're kind. Whatever mischief my father accidentally involved us all in, she had nothing to do with it."

Erudan looked as if he was about to speak, then ate a piece of cheese instead. There was a knock on the door and he rose to open it. The guard had returned with Noxi's book, but the swan pushed passed and came honkily into the house. Erudan's cat ran into the foyer and hissed, and the swan spread his wings and barreled past the guard, knocking Noxi's book onto the ground.

"I'll wring your neck, Balthazar!" Erudan shouted. The guard left in a hurry after picking up the book and handing it to Erudan. He dusted it off, then went stone still. "Where did you get this?"

"A friend... well, he was a friend, but he abandoned us before the dwarves came."

"Was he Araadani? Or one of those insufferable Janissaries?"

Cara shook her head and swallowed another mouthful of seeds. "He's a goblin. His name is Noxi."

"Noxi Spijun Noxi?" Erudan asked. His face was grim as a gargoyle. "I should have known. If there's ever a blight on our world that needed to be purged, it's the Grim Whimsey."

"You know Noxi?"

"Only by reputation, though Verrold took a goblin to court around the time this book was stolen. It was learned he was a member of the Whimsey, and he managed to escape before His Grace could arrest him. It would seem that then I have indeed met this former friend of yours. If I may be so bold as to say it, you're better off with him gone. I've never met a goblin that could be trusted, and they're the absolute worst."

Cara said nothing. Her heart warred against itself where Noxi was concerned. At any rate, she missed Bolo and his big grey tongue. "You may keep the book, then. Was it valuable?"

"Priceless, but there's no need to return it. I've almost recompiled its text. I'd like to have the boy copy a few pages from it, but it's yours. Consider a gift, from it's proper owner."

She smiled and ate the last of the pomegranate. "I'm so sorry. I've eaten the whole thing."

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Erudan waved his hand. "Come, let's go to my tower. Better to talk in the splendour of the sun than this dusty hovel."

They worked their way through the clutter of his common room, the mess of his study, up the narrow stair that wound up his squat turret, past the rank smell that came from his bedchamber, and onto the roof of the turret. It was bare except for a table and two stools, and a very comfortable looking chair covered by an oil-slicked tent with a roll-away roof.

Erudan gestured for her to sit in the chair, then pulled one of the stools close. She removed her cloak and Erudan set it on the other stool while she sat in the chair.

"Now," he said, "let's speak of your waking dreams. Have you the stone?"

Cara tried to shoot upright, but the chair was far too plush. Instead she flopped like a fish trying to escape a fisher's line. Embarrassed, she sat still and shook her head. "How do you know?"

"His Grace told His Grace. Er, your brother told Derrion. Or, more likely, he told Gam, and Gam told Derrion. I really don't keep track of such things so well. There's enough information in splashing around in my head to drown a leviathan."

"I was afraid to say anything. I wasn't sure how people would respond. Not many seem to respect you Esperians. My father did. He spoke of you on his last night."

"Did he now?" That seemed to please the old man.

Cara nodded. "You, and Siandus Dreamtreader."

Erudan laughed. "Ah, the mad elf. The misunderstood elf, more like. Siandus Dreamtreader, Narvi the Blooded, Malak Ysling, Eli of the East, Zul'Ner and Princess Za Yun. All respected rulers and scholars, until they spoke of the Great Year, and the rising of the Tides. Then those who onced loved them branded them fools, or madmen, and here we are, in the shadow of both the Plague Moon and the Harbinger Sun, with no clue what they are or what doom they bring. Your father was not wise in matters of politics, but he heeded the Tides and old legends. For that, he had my esteem."

A warm breeze passed through Cara's hair. Bees buzzed around flowers in the garden below, and she could hear Balthazar honking at passersby on the street. "I never thought of the Tides as anything more than old stories, passed down from a forgotten time."

"Which is precisely what they are. Tell me, how does the age of a tale negate its import, eh? The past is of tremendous importance, Princess. It's how we got to where we are, and the secret to the power of the future."

"I don't understand."

"I sent a book to your father, many years ago, called The Inward Lamp."

Cara nodded slowly. "He read from it often. He stumbled into a torch once, in fact, while reading it."

"It's an engrossing tome, to be sure. Malak Ysling was a mongrel of a man, more beast than human, but he spoke horrifying truths with terrifying simplicity. He stated, 'The past is the key to the future, and the present the key to the past.' Hence the mission of my order. Others of the mystery schools peered into the Tides for power. We peer into them for survival."

Cara felt a tear trickle down her cheek. "Titan's arse!", she wiped it away furiously. "I keep thinking I'm done with weeping, then something reminds me of some sweet memory of home."

Erudan nodded slowly. "I've suffered loss as well. I once had a granddaughter. My house was far tidier then."

"What happened?"

He looked eastward, passed the Towers of the Wind. "The King of Graves happened."

"I'm so sorry. We know so little of your people's struggle with the orcs in High Alden. It's been awful, hasn't it?"

He nodded again, even more slowly than before. "For both our kins. I've met with Woten'Ku. Before Aya's death, of course. I interviewed him for a book I was writing about the difference between knowledge and truth. I stated in the preface, that I had seen knowledge do little more than gather dust on shelves, while I'd witnessed truth bring kingdoms to their knees. Now, our kingdom is being toppled by lies."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean, Your Highness, is that if you ask us, the orcs started it, and if you ask them, we started it. If you ask the King of Graves, it doesn't matter who started it. But he means to finish it, one way or another."

Cara shuddered. She saw the black line of teeth gathered outside her castle, and Ror's hammer rising in a flash of lightning. "He sounds horrible."

"He is. He saw, as a young boy, the Plague Moon in its full terror. Two tribes went to Noth, to search for the comet said to have landed there long ago. Depending on who you ask, the comet fell either before, or after your ancestor lead the Defenders of Konistra on their great purge of the gnolls. Yet, both sides of the debate agree that the comet was made of ohr, and came up from the sea before falling back into it on the other side of the world. Either way, the Brighthowl and Nightflyer tribes banded together, and sailed from the Wandering Isle in ships made by their cousins, the Seabears.

"They returned years later, with half their numbers, and tortured by the horrors of the Foglands. They formed a new tribe, called the Netherclaw, as they survived the netherworld by tooth and claw. They were a changed people, strangers even to their own kin. Woten'Ku distinguished himself by massacering one of their own tribes when they declared war on Canthor. He said he would have let Canthor do away with them on their own, but half the other tribes had sworn to march with them, so better to toss one sailor overboard before he drives the whole ship aground. He'll do anything to save his people, anything. He'll even save them from themselves. So yes, he is horrible, Your Highness. As horrible as the nightmare that forged him, and the nightmare that we're all in danger of waking up to. Now, speaking of dreams and waking..."

Cara sighed. She didn't want to speak of her visions. Hearing the Voice the night before terrified her. She shivered despite the warmth in the summer air. Erudan handed her her cloak and she wrapped herself in it. At least Audun won't be here to spoil it, so long as he keeps busy downstairs. This fellow may actually know something helpful.

"It started in Thrond," she said, after a deep breath, "just before the wedding. I dreamt while I slept, so didn't think much of it. Just another dream. It all came true, though. At least most of it. There's still bits I don't understand. Thrond turned into a dragon and breathed fire into the sky, and I saw our Master at Arms wiping the red stars off his shield."

Erudan stirred, but said nothing, and gestured for Cara to continue. She then spoke, as well as she could recall, of every dream she had, waking or not, since she first heard the voice. Erudan's face was stone still the entire time.

"Well," she said when finished, "there you have it."

The sun had passed to the west and the air was growing cool. The Tower of Splendour drank deep of the sun's rays, then showered them down onto the houses of the Inner Ward. One building seemed more illuminated than the others. It was large and octagonal with a pyramid of blue crystal atop the roof. Its walls were painted every color Cara knew, and more than a few she didn't. Its tall oaken doors were gilded with silver, and on them were painted a golden sunburst, a white crescent moon, and innumerable stars of varied sizes and hues.

"Is that Esper?" she asked, with a nod towards the building.

Erudan looked over his shoulder. "No. That's just the College of Esper."

"I didn't know Esper was a place."

He shrugged. "It was a place, supposedly."

"Don't you believe in it?"

He shrugged again. "I suppose I don't disbelieve in it. It's hard to verify the truth or untruth of the Age of Dreams. Tales of the Great Year vary from one source to another, and the time shortly after even more so."

"Where was it?"

Erudan looked upward.

"In the sky?!"

"According to the tales."

Cara was grateful for the change in subject, and wanted the talk to continue. "What was it like, according to the tales?"

"Lush and green, populated by a people called the Children of the Sun, who were touched by the splendour of the Radiant Soul. It was said they glowed like the stars, hovered above the ground, channeled the elements, and spoke with the Titans."

"I'd laugh at that, if not for the blind woman."

He furrowed his brow and looked towards his boots. Cara noticed them for the first time. They were so worn they seemed to be at once brown, grey and black, and seemed a few sizes too large.

"I have laughed at such tales. But I don't laugh at this one anymore, not after speaking with the Ror and the White Bull."

Cara shifted in the chair and wrapped her cloak about her more tightly. A sharp, cramping pain formed below her stomach. Of all the times to start my moon. "What did they say?"

"That Thrond was attacked not only by goblins and drow, but two other kins never before seen."

Cara had been gazing idly at Mount Solis, noticing the delicate way the waxing sunlight poured in rivers of gold and saffron down its dark, wending ridges. Someone had been leading a laden ass along the road leading to the mountains and was now completely out of view. She turned suddenly towards Erudan when he spoke of the two other kins, never before seen. "The blind people?"

He shook his head dismissively. "No. One is a squat species, colored like wood and mud, tusked like orcs, and of common stature with dwarves. The other hovered above the ground, channeled the elements, and glowed like the stars. According to the dwarves. I don't know these young princes, or their northern mother, but King Grar is a prudent man, and there are few my age who don't respect the White Bull."

They were both silent for a time. It was nearly evenfall, and long shadows were reaching out of the west. The sounds of the city sounded far and away, echoes from some other time. Balthazar was honking at the window below, and Audun was honking back. Cara felt hungry and nauseated at the same time, one of the many charms that came with her moon.

"Have you any greens?". They were the only food she could keep down when her moon was full.

"I could send for some. Oh drat! I forgot about those partridges. They'll have gone stone cold by now."

Cara felt another twinge in her lower abdomen. "I don't think I can eat," she said while pressing her fingers into the pain. "But it's getting dark."

The light persisted, but was fading. Mount Solis, a wide and sloping mountain with one steep side cut by deep and jagged trenches, acted more like a beacon to the light than a shield against it. What remained of the sun's splendour was trapped by its broad summit and poured richly down its many stark faces. As the shadows to the west grew longer, the faces of the mountain glowed brighter. Cara was basking in trapped illumination while the world around her grew dark. But the light was only a thing to be seen. The air was growing cool, and the wind was picking up. Dark storm clouds again loomed in the distance, though no clear sign could be seen that they would bring the rain and tummalt they promised.

"Will you not come down where it's warm?" Erudan asked. He stood and began to move towards the door.

"I'll come," Cara sighed as she stood, then doubled over in pain.

"Highness?" Erudan sounded more embarrassed than concerned.

"I'm alright, I think. Womanly troubles, Ser, nothing more."

"I see. You've been through a great ordeal. You may be suffering from more than the moon. Ah, see it, peering through the haze."

His voice took on a strange aspect, as if he'd seen a legend come to life. Cara looked and saw the moon, bright and beautiful, the Sun of Darkness, maker of shadows and painter of waters. It was a fine sight, but it was only the moon, showing as it always did. She looked at the Esperian curiously. "You're fond of the moon, I see."

"Very. I wonder at it. It seems at times a foreign thing, a second sun that lights the night. And it pulls the waters to and fro, directing the tides and all the life that depends upon them. Such power, and all it does is show itself."

The feeling behind his words moved Cara. The moon almost looked prettier to her than it had before. It's cold light shone in Erudan's eyes, and the hard lines in his face softened. A light breeze ran through his long, white hair and disturbed the whiskers on his chin.

"I ponder over the seasons," she said. The pain in her abdomen subsided.

"And what about them captures your thoughts?" His eyes remained fixed on the moon as he spoke to her.

She looked away from the moon to the mountain. A small splash of pink clung to its rocky slopes. Only its absolute heights remained snowladen. Most of it was brown, with a few hints of green about its foothills. She felt the air, distilling the warmness that came with the advent of summer from the cool chill brought by the mountain snows. "They never fail," she said. "They turn, every year, at the same time in the same way. I suppose I enjoy their constancy. So much changes in life. That I would be standing here, on this roof, discussing waking dreams from a distant star, and mourning for my father, leagues away from my home after it was shattered by our ancient allies, is a thing I could never have fathomed only months ago."

"Can you claim to fathom it now?"

She shook her head. "No. I keep expecting to wake in my bed in our keep with my handmaid snoring beside me. But every time I wake, she and my father are still dead. And I'm still here."

Her sight had drifted from her conscious mind as she spoke. She looked on the Tower of Distant Stars, but she did not see it. She saw the blind woman standing in the storm, nearly naked but unmoved by the wind and the rain. She saw the dwarves glowing like white fire in the black night, and Ror's hammer coming down with the lightning. She saw the grey days of wandering along the road, a train of hurt and frightened people trailing behind her, just as shocked and bewildered as her. A caring hand brought her back to the moment. He'd placed it on her shoulder, and from it she felt a grandfather's love.

"My grandfather died when I was very young," she said. "I envy your granddaughter for having had you in her life."

Erudan smiled. "And I envy King Salimod for having had so kind a daughter. Mine was taken from me the very day she became a mother."

Cara's lip shook. She put her hand up to calm it. "I suppose none of us can claim lordship over tears."

"They fall from all eyes, Your Highness. The tears I shed over my granddaughter have been shed by many an old orc. I met Ror when the dwarves arrived here. Gammon brought them here to my house to prevent you from encountering him unprepared."

"As His Grace contrived." Her ire towards Derrion had not faded in the slightest.

Eruddan ignored the comment. "He spoke brutishly, so much that he angered me. Though, if I'm to be an honest man, that's not a difficult thing to do. But, I could see he was hurting immensely, much more than his fellows."

"I'd rather not speak of him, just now." She knew Erudan's words were true, but it angered her to think of Ror feeling hurt, when he'd caused so much to her. "Whatever befell his people, he doesn't have the memory of me butchering his father to be tortured by."

"Of course, Princess. It was a foul deed, no matter the impetus. Shall we retire downstairs? You'll be wanting to return to the keep soon, no doubt."

She didn't. She was furious with Derrion, but the thought of voicing the angry words in her heart frightened her. Yet she couldn't allow herself to be in his presence and keep quiet. "I suppose, though I'd hoped to speak more of my dreams. Or, rather, I'd hoped to hear your thoughts on them. Have you any?"

He raised his bushy white eyebrows and nodded dramatically. "A great many."

"What do they mean?" she turned quickly to face him. "Where are they coming from? Where is Othomo, and why was Obrus spitting flame into the sky?"

Erudan let out a smileless laugh. "I said I had thoughts, Your Highness, not answers."

"Then why did Derrion want me to tell you all these things? Do you know nothing that could help me?"

He folded his hands together and smiled. "Sweet girl, I know much that could possibly help you, but there others who know yet more. With your permission, I'll need to speak to them before giving you any advice. And we'll need time to debate, and search our tomes."

"But the wound in the sky, we all saw it. Surely that's the black sun in my visions. And the Black Worm, I saw it eat Castle Othomo, and now it's come for Castle Gwynd. Perhaps we need to lure it over Obrus, so the dwarves can unleash the fires deep within the mountain."

He put his band back on her shoulder long enough to silence her, then brought it back and steepled his fingers downward. "Where is Castle Othomo? And how would the dwarves release the fires under their mountain? And since when do worms grow large enough to eat castles? Princess, we saw something in the sky, to be sure, and a wind like I've never felt assailed us as the sky cracked like the shell of an egg. Not to mention the Harbinger's Sun seemed to be shooting violet flame towards the black wound. These are not things that can be understood quickly, no matter what my colleagues might think."

"You don't agree with Ser Robard?"

Erudan glowered and stood up straight. "Never," he said grimly. Then he softened and slouched a little. "Come, go back to the Heavenly Keep and spend time with your family. They need you. The boy and I will search through some old books for symbols like those you've seen, and in the morning I'll bring your dreams to the College Elders."

She acquiesced and went back down to the house. Audun was sitting on the floor in the common room with his back against the wall near the hearth. Noxi's Book of Tides was open on the floor and Balthazar was laying on Audun's lap. He had his arms wrapped around the bird while he read the book. The partridges were half eaten on a platter. The cat was sitting between them gnawing on the scraps.

"Bollocks of Igdrus!" Erudan bellowed. He rana cross the room and kicked at Balthazar. The swan fluttered his lame wings as he rose to his feet. He then honked uproariously as he waddled indignantly to Erudan's front door. The cat hissed, then leapt backwards when Balthazar stabbed at him with his beak at him. Audun read on, blissfully unaware of the sudden flurry.

"Useless boy, fiendish cat, insufferable bird!" said Erudan. He calmed down when Cara stood in the doorway, which had apparently been open for some time as a stream of ants was marching through and up to the platter on the table. "Don't worry yourself over these dreams," he told her before bidding good night.

"I'd rather you kept them to yourself," she replied. She worried how the people at court would view her if they knew.

"We are prismatic beings, Princess. What you have seen and heard may be the same message from the same place as others have seen and heard, but reflected off the mirrors within your own unique mind. And I might come to a valuable conclusion about one detail of your dreams, but I could never discover the same things as Madam Elloni or Smith Ellington would. I promise you discretion, Princess. I'd never be a member of the College if I couldn't trust them. And I despise trust in almost all its forms."

Cara smiled a little. "You talk a mean prose, but you're clearly a kind man."

"She had curly red hair, and blue star eyes." He smiled sadly. "Change the color of your eyes and hair, and you'll see how mean I can be. Now go, Princess, get some rest."

She felt herself lean forward and embrace Erudan. He stood stiffly for a moment, then patted her back with both his hands. She gave him a parting smile, then tapped Balthazar's beak before leaving. She heard him honking till the gates closed behind her. Inside the Heavenly Keep, she found her younger siblings laying in bed with her mother. They were fast asleep, and her mother was brushing her fingers though their hair. Istan's was damp with sweat. Cara crawled on the bed and lay behind Gislain. She wrapped an arm around her sister's shoulders and lay her head down on her mother's shoulder.

"Forgive me, Cara," her mother said.

"For what?" Cara replied, shocked.

Queen Yselde shook her head in disbelief. Betha had been doing her duty well. Her mother was bathed, her hair was brushed, and she looked well fed. But her face was haggard and her flesh was grey. It seemed she was fading away and turning to fog.

"I'm losing my wits," she said haltingly. "I can't stop it. Sometimes, I can think, and I can see, but then I look and he's gone, and we're here, and I don't know what to make of it all. He swore, he swore, we wouldn't be harmed. A thief, he said, to spy their mines. He said they only wanted the ohr. Where's Idana?"

Cara sat up and kissed her mother's cheek. "Don't worry over what's done, mother. Just mourn him, and mourn him well. He was a king, and kings are always in danger, as I'm learning."

Her mother's eyes went wide. "Your brother..."

"Will learn from Father's mistakes, and be a very different king. And he'll have me by his side for as long as he rules, and Istan and Gislain besides. And he has friends here, as well. Derrion, Ser Gammon, Ser Jarral, and Dennel and Howl."

Her mother looked her in the eyes searchingly. "He'll be safe?"

Cara nodded and kissed her mother's forehead. They both lay quietly then, until their candles grew dim and the stars grew bright. Cara saw a black space where there were no stars, and thin lines swarming around it. She tensed, waiting for the purple light and blast of wind, but there was only quiet and dark. She clung to her mother and sister, and reached to Istan and took his hand. It took some time, but eventually she fell asleep. She dreamed as she slumbered, but she saw no black sun or castles being devoured. Instead she saw Ror's eyes burning like green flames within a black helm, crested with the white horns of a ram.