Waking up was like walking through chest-deep water. Farinka's mind struggled to put together more than two rational thoughts at a time, her limbs felt leaden and her mouth was dry, her eyes gritty and disinclined to open. She groaned softly as she turned over; none of the muscles anywhere wanted to do as they were told without complaining heavily about it.

She opened her eyes, rubbing away the sleep from her eyelashes, and looked out at the blurred interior of the house. It was empty apart from herself. It took real will-power to sit up, and she found herself feeling queasy and dizzy. She shivered and pulled her bearskin up to wrap it round her shoulders, but the coldness didn't go away.

I need a drink, she thought. And a wash. And a pee. She stood up, shakily, looking round for her jacket and hunching herself into it. The light from the doorway was blocked for a moment; Farinka looked up as Nemeth limped in.

– Domina, you are swaying on your feet, he observed, looking at her.

She nodded and wrapped the jacket closer round herself, shutting her eyes against the light. He walked towards her and slipped his arms round her, resting his chin on the top of her head.

– You are a wreck, he said. I should go back to sleep if I were you. Not that you've really woken up. He winced as her arms went round him. Farinka, gently with my ribs. They're pretty sore, he added.

– Sorry. Forgot. Her Voice was hardly there. I need to go out. I need a wash. I need a pee. And I'm thirsty. What time is it?

– Around mid-day. Don't worry about time. Do what you need and come straight back, I'll get someone to sort something out for you to drink. They've just sent me back to rest, and Sherath will get pretty narked if I go back out. They wouldn't let me out for more than a couple of minutes the day before yesterday, and only let me sit by the fire for a meal yesterday.

She pulled back to arm's length, trying to bring his face into focus.

– The day before yesterday? Nemeth, how long have I been asleep?

– Two and a half days. And nights, he added. There was a smile in his Voice.

– It doesn't feel that long, she said, leaning against him again. And it doesn't feel long enough, either.

She felt the warmth and strength of his Awareness running through her, and felt him suddenly tremble as she unwittingly leached strength from him. She slammed the Control down on the Power drain and nearly blacked out – almost as if the use of Power was a muscle that had been torn. The pain hit her in the mind.

– Aiyee! Mind my ribs, please, Nemeth whispered. And don't try to use Power. Not even Control, Domina. Get yourself sorted out and come back. He patted her gently on the shoulder and steered her in the direction of the doorway, then sat down abruptly on a roll of hides and ran his fingers through tangled hair.

– Sherath? he called.

At the other end of the valley, Sherath handed Agouti's lead-rein to Jevann.

– Yes?

– Farinka's back in the land of the living. Almost, Nemeth added with a grin. I doubt if her Voice could reach you if she tried. She's not really half-way with it, yet.

– Is she okay? There was worry in Sherath's Voice.

– Very thirsty. She's gone for a wash. I told her to come straight back. Can you fix something for her to drink?

– Can do. Sherath felt for Farinka's mind with his Awareness, his brows flicking down into a frown as the giddiness and the pain hit him.

"Farinka's just about awake," he told the others. "I'll be back soon." He ran over towards the fire, and sorted a selection of herbs into a pot, adding boiling water and honey to them before splitting it between two mugs and carrying one over to Nemeth.

Nemeth was still sitting on the rolled hides. Sherath crouched beside him, touching him gently on one shoulder. Nemeth looked up.

"Oh, thanks," he said, taking the mug and sipping slowly.

"Get yourself wrapped up and go back to sleep, Nemeth," said Sherath. "And don't come out again until you're called, okay?"

Nemeth grinned up at him. "Whatever you say. You'd better go and check she's okay."

"I'll give her a couple of minutes," said Sherath.

Farinka was sitting on the rock by the edge of the pool, listening to the trickle of the spring with her eyes closed and her head cradled in her hands. The spring water was very cold and very fresh, but somehow didn't seem to stop the raging thirst. Her eyes were clean, but still sore, and there was a coldness inside her as if her bones had turned to ice. She shivered, lacking the willpower to stand up again and walk back. She became gradually aware of Sherath, and looked round slowly.

"Domina, you can't go back to sleep here," he said gently.

"Can't I? Try me," she said, closing her eyes again.

He sat down beside her, wrapping one half of his jacket around her shoulders.

"There's a drink in the house," he said. "Hot. And full of things that you need. I don't suppose the water helped much, did it?" he asked.

"Not really," she admitted.

"Come on. The longer you sit here, the worse you'll feel."

He helped her to her feet, steadying her as she staggered. "You really shouldn't walk," he advised. "I'll carry you."

"You're joking; I can walk."

"Don't be so stubborn. You hardly weigh anything." He lifted her up and started back to the house.

"You're a nut," she said, indistinctly.

"No, I'm an Elf."

Farinka laughed.

He sat her down next to where Nemeth lay, wrapped a hide round her, and handed her the mug, then sat cross-legged facing her.

She sipped at the herb tea.

"This is nice. What's in it?"

"Lots of things. Red clover, feverfew, camomile, yarrow, rose-hips, fennel, nettle, honey, lemon balm, hops, among other things. You'll feel better next time you wake up. Drink up and curl up with Nemeth. You need to keep warm, both of you. Just be careful of Nemeth's ribs, Domina."

"Use my arm for a pillow, then I can keep your back warm," suggested Nemeth. "You won't hurt me accidentally that way." He waited until she finished the tea, then curled an arm round her as she lay down, already half asleep again. Sherath sat with them for a few minutes, until he was satisfied that they were both sleeping, then went back out to join the others.

"Is Farinka okay?" asked Louka as he rejoined them.

"She'll be all right. They should both sleep for another six or eight hours," he added with a grin.

"Why?" asked Tarke.

"I put a couple of drops of dozewort juice into the tea with the rest," he said. The others laughed. "Well," he said, "they need the sleep. And that's the only way I'll ever get Nemeth to rest, by the look of it."

***

It was the smell of spiced venison fresh out of the steam pit that eventually woke Farinka. She floated out of sleep, aware firstly of thirst and then of hunger. She opened her eyes cautiously, expecting pain, and was pleasantly surprised when there was none.

– I was wondering when you'd wake up, Nemeth said.

– How long have you been awake?

– Not very long. I didn't have the heart to wake you; you looked very comfortable.

– How are your ribs?

– They're not likely to be much better for quite a while. But they're improving. At least the headache's gone now.

– What about the leg?

– No problems. A bit swollen, maybe. Sherath's a good Healer.

Farinka sat up, reaching out to mind-touch Sherath.

He smiled as he poured hot herb tea into two mugs by the fire. – I timed that well, he said to her. Thought you'd wake about now. Stay there for a minute, I'll bring this in to you.

He entered with the two mugs, handing them each one and sitting beside them. Farinka sipped cautiously.

"Well at least you haven't laced this one with dozewort," she said.

"How did you know?" he asked, grinning.

"Something smug in the way you admitted how well you timed it," she answered. "Besides which, I could feel what was left of it when I woke."

"I did wonder," said Nemeth. "Underhand tactics, Brother."

"But not unnecessary," said Sherath. "If you won't rest when you're told, I can always make you." He grinned again. "Do you want to eat first or wash first?"

"Wash," said Farinka. "Definitely. I might even swim." She stood up, handing the empty mug to Sherath.

"Don't get chilled," he said. "Nemeth?"

"Am I allowed to swim, Healer?" Nemeth asked sardonically.

"If you think you ought to," said Sherath. "It might ease some of the rib pain. I'll expect you back within ten minutes – don't overdo it. Okay?"

"Your wish is my command." Nemeth laughed. "Grant me the pleasure of your company, Domina." He held his hand out to her and she made a show of helping him to his feet.

Sherath returned to the fire and was handed a plate of sliced venison by Tarke.

"They look much better," she said as she watched them walk towards the pool.

"Much," agreed Sherath, sitting down and helping himself to green hazelnuts. He wrapped several in a slice of venison and surrounded the whole with a vine leaf fried in boar fat.

"Better enough to think about leaving tomorrow, or not?" asked Jevann thoughtfully.

"Possibly. Possibly." Sherath took another mouthful of his roll.

"Everything else is ready when they are," Louka pointed out. "Beastpacks packed as full as they can hold, beasts co-operative – "

" – mostly," said Tarke.

Louka grinned. "Okay, mostly. But no problems that Farinka can't get one of the unicorns to explain. Round tents are checked, and mended where necessary. All that's left to pack are the hides we're sleeping in, the pots we're cooking in, and the dishes we're eating off."

"It seems a shame the rest of the winter food stores can't be used," Tarke sighed.

"They can," said Sherath. "Not by us, granted. But Piet's people could make good use of them."

Several pairs of eyes turned to look at him.

"That human village?" asked Tarke.

"Yes. It would be a good move in more ways than one to offer them the rest of the stores. They've got enough packbeasts to move it all in one trip. I was thinking perhaps you and I could ride down there tomorrow, Tarke, and explain to them."

"If the unicorns let us," said Tarke.

"Farinka can ask them to," Sherath answered.

"You think that's safe?" asked Jevann.

"Piet knows me. As do some of his men. They know the unicorns; and with the unicorns, we'd be safe enough even if there was trouble – which I don't think there will be."

"Why not take more of us?" asked Jevann.

"Several reasons."

"Like what?"

"Like the fact that the unicorns can cover the ground in half the time that the packbeasts can. Like the fact that we don't want this to look threatening – which is why I'd rather take Tarke or Louka than yourself. We're a peace envoy, not a scouting party. I'd rather take Tarke than Louka because I'd value her presence as Counsellor on this trip; you already know that the facts point to both Piet and Jaimeh being half-Elven – I want to know if Jaimeh's woman is, or not – and if she is, then Tarke will need to Counsel her."

"Because of the children," agreed Louka. "Yes."

There were murmurs of agreement from the others.

Nemeth and Farinka came back from the pool at a jog-trot; Nemeth moving unevenly but without much real pain from the leg.

"That was cold," said Farinka as she sat down. Jevann handed her a plate of venison.

"Oh, for the heatstack cliff pools," said Nemeth softly.

"What exactly are the heatstack cliffs?" asked Farinka.

"You don't have heatstacks on your world? No hot pools?" asked Jevann.

"Well, yes. Volcanic springs and things. Some of them are very hot; but smelly, often. Full of sulphur."

"No, those aren't heatstacks," said Sherath. "We have volcanic springs and other hot springs here, too – in the Western mountains, particularly. A true heatstack is the work of a heatstack nodule, which is like a sort of intelligent rock animal. Not an animal that lives among rocks, more an animal that's made from rock. You can speak to them, if you can speak Petran."

"What's Petran?"

"One of the old languages," said Louka. "Rock trolls speak Petran. Some of the more powerful animals in the cavern system can speak Petran as well as either Old Elvish or the common language."

"Is Flizz a rock troll?" Farinka asked Nemeth.

He grinned. "No, she's a cave troll."

"So what's the difference?"

"Rock trolls are pretty primitive," said Sherath. "They don't have a lot in the way of brains, they have no appreciation of art or music, they can't be taught to read or write; and they occasionally have trouble distinguishing between friend and foe – with the default assumption being 'foe'. Fortunately they also don't go much on weaponry," he added with a smile.

"Their limit is generally flinging boulders at you," agreed Nemeth. "And they're very obvious about it. Not what you'd call subtle."

"What about cave trolls, then?"

"Cave trolls are quite bright," said Nemeth. "Not as bright as Elves – about the same as Men, probably. They're fond of music and like pretty things – jewellery rather than clothes. They don't really need clothes, even in the caverns, which can be quite cold. They're quite furry – soft fur, like rabbit-fur but longer, and usually golden or chestnut coloured. Flizz is very pale coloured – somewhere between Flax and Sunshine."

"Maybe that's what made Shenwaith notice her," suggested Tarke, grinning.

"Nuts," asserted Nemeth. "It was the mushrooms. Cave trolls have tails," he continued, "rock trolls are tailless and almost hairless. They have very thick dark grey hide. Cave trolls are handy with weapons – most weapons. And the prehensile tail makes them superlative knife-fighters – the likes of you and I are restricted to a maximum of two knives at once, which rather limits our techniques. They're often a bit more dextrous than Men, and a lot stronger, though not as strong as rock trolls."

"Is anything as strong as a rock troll?" asked Jevann with a smile.

"Not in my experience," replied Nemeth.

"What, not even you?" asked Farinka, reaching for an apple.

" 'fraid not."

"How do you know?" she asked.

Sherath laughed. "Nemeth tried a playful wrestling match with a young rock troll in his mad youth. The rock troll won. We had to 'tice it off him with some food. Rock trolls like truffles, too," he added.

"Yes, well, enough of the nostalgia," said Nemeth with a slightly embarrassed grin. "After all, it was a very long time ago. And there are episodes in your past, Brother, which you might not care to have openly discussed," he added, glancing up sideways at Sherath.

"This sounds good," said Farinka. "Like what?"

"I think not," said Sherath, turning away momentarily from the fire to reach for his tobacco pouch and roll a leaf smoke-roll.

"What's it worth?" asked Nemeth, laughing.

Sherath turned back with a leaf smoke-roll in one hand and his blowpipe in the other.

"You wouldn't dare," said Nemeth.

Sherath grinned. "Try me."

"He would," said Louka to Nemeth.

Nemeth leaned back against the tree trunk. "He can't sit there holding that pipe all night, though, can he?" he pointed out.

"Would you care to bet on that one?" asked Sherath.

"I thought you said Dominn doesn't approve of gambling," said Sienne.

"Gambling to excess; gambling what can't be afforded, no," said Sherath. "But a little wager between friends is quite allowable. Well, Brother? How about it? And remember that the rock troll incident isn't the only daft thing you've done in your time, either."

"This is true," said Nemeth. "Okay, pax."

"Pax?" asked Farinka.

"Old Elvish," said Louka. "Meaning 'peace'."

"We have the same thing on my world. From the Latin – also meaning 'peace'. Who uses Old Elvish as a language?"

"All that can use Assumed Power can speak Old Elvish," said Sherath.

"You mean things other than Elves can use Assumed Power?"

"Yes. Dragons can – and do. And the few Great Worms that are left."

"Dinithu," said Tarke. "You'll meet Dinithu, Domina."

"What's a Great Worm?"

"Something between snake and dragon," Tarke responded. "They look like snakes – but much bigger, and with a head like a dragon's. Around five times as long as Sherath is tall, and at least as big around as that boar was. And they're intelligent. Very intelligent."

"More so than Elves?"

"More so than many Elves. On equal terms with the brightest of us," said Sherath. "And intelligent in ways which we can't imagine, because we're so different. Dinithu speaks the common language, and Old Elvish, and Petran, and cave-trollish – which even most cave-trolls don't speak much, now. And he uses Words of Power."

"What are they?" asked Farinka.

"Very old. You can't learn them unless someone who uses them wishes to teach you. You can hear a Word of Power spoken; hear it clearly, and yet be unable to remember what it sounded like as soon as it has been spoken."

"And you cannot disobey a Word of Power spoken by any creature stronger than yourself," said Nemeth. "Stronger in mind, that is, not in body. It's like Command, only much more so."

"And not only used for Command," said Sherath. "You can use a Word of Power on an inanimate object in the same way as you can use Command, certainly. But you can also use the teaching Word to give Voice and Hearing, sometimes, to those who don't have it. Although the effect is limited – they can usually only use it with the person who gave them it, or a few other people. You can use the teaching Word for all sorts of teaching."

"Does Dinithu know all the Words of Power?" asked Farinka.

"Who knows?" said Nemeth.

"But he uses Assumed Power?"

"Yes."

"And he could therefore teach me?"

"He could. But I suspect that by the time we get to Dinithu you may have already taught yourself a great deal," said Sherath. "But do, please, Domina, teach yourself gently. We can't afford to lose you. Dinithu's Teaching will be of most use to you in terms of language. Any of us can teach you Old Elvish – although it might be a slow process, and none of us know all of it. It's used in the oldest calls to Dominn – the oldest prayers whose forms have stayed unchanged and are known to all of us, rather than individual prayers. Many of those older, more formal prayers are sung rather than said; we give to Dominn the music that Dominn has given to us. It would be interesting to know how many words of Old Elvish bear such a similarity to the language that you spoke of on your world." He looked questioningly at her.

"Latin? I never knew much Latin – just a couple of years of basics at school. But possibly enough to be able to judge how close the relationship is, if I could hear Old Elvish."

"That can be arranged," said Tarke. "We spend a lot of time singing when we're on the move – so long as it's safe to do so. And many of the songs are in Old Elvish; many of them being prayers of a kind."

"You'll have to make do with unaccompanied voices, Domina," said Jekavi. "We have no instruments with us."