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Cold Blood

a story by Onyx Tao

[ This story is licensed under the Creative Commons

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© 2008 by Onyx Tao

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Chapter Eleven

Cut Deep

After the attack, Teodor looked stunned and surprised; the noise was so loud that the minotaur had dropped the spell - Dacien had felt the magic twist out of Teodor's control and dissipate. He turned to the gray minotaur. Teodor was just staring on in shock. Below, the humans appeared as surprised by Teodor and Dacien's sudden disappearance as the weapon itself. Two of the others had wrestled him to the ground, and taken the weapon; the group roiled in confusion for a moment before Commander-of-Thousands Nestor reasserted himself, and then walked forward to examine the ground where the images of Teodor and Dacien had been.

Teodor dropped down to a sitting position in the grass circle, and just stared - partly in amazement and partly in shock at the confused scene below them playing out on the road. A runner headed back quickly towards the army encampment.

"Difficult," murmured Teodor, overcoming his surprise. "It appears that an assassination attempt was ... not favored by the Commander. It might be show, of course, all for the consumption of a watcher - but ... I do not know I am ready to infer such duplicity."

"I don't think it is," said Dacien, into the silence of Lord Fog's consideration. "I mean, I might be biased, Master, but ... I don't think it is really show."

Teodor just shook his head sadly. "The council would say I am an idiot, that humans - pardon me, Dacien - cannot be trusted, and that my offer to parley was a fool's mission, undertaken by that same fool. And I have to wonder if perhaps ... perhaps I was wrong. I have found individual humans to be as trustworthy and reliable as a minotaur. I had hoped that human institutions might have partaken of at least some of that integrity. My hopes are shaken, Dacien, I was wrong."

"Master, I ..."

"No," Teodor said, sadly. "If there is insufficient honor to see even a parley through without treachery - how can I hope for any accord between the Clans and the Empire?" The gray minotaur just shook his head. "Yesterday my blinders nearly killed not merely myself and Benelaus, but led me to endanger Five. Five!" The way he said it was almost like a whip-stroke, breaking over him.

"He accepted ..." started Dacien.

"No, not that," snarled Teodor, angry for only the second time Dacien had ever seen. "He belongs to me. His safety - his welfare - are my responsibility, my first priority, second only to my Clan trust!" Teodor's voice had dropped in volume, but gained intensity. "I failed him, Dacien, far more profoundly than Luziel's benign neglect. Luz would never have exposed him so foolishly."

"Oh," said Dacien. "So you knew about the curse. Because, Master, I thought you didn't."

"I should have known," said Teodor, bitterly. "I know of such things, all mages are taught about ... the war-magics we do not use. We know how they work, we know how they are applied, and always, always, we are taught, to look for them. But I, I was wearing blinders. A fool."

"Master," Dacien said firmly. "I ... I know I'm not as smart as you are, but if being too hopeful is an error, isn't being too dour just as much a mistake?"

The gray minotaur was silent for a moment, and Dacien pressed the point. "Look, Master. Even if they couldn't do the parley properly - but look what happened after, Master! Five of the group jumped him, wrestled that ... that ... thing out of his hands. That's the individual integrity you were talking about, wasn't it, Master?"

"Yes." The word sounded like it was dragged out of the minotaur unwillingly, though.

"And when you brought Benelaus back to our tent - weren't his injuries serious?"

"Well, yes, but I don't see ..." the minotaur paused, thinking. "I don't see the significance in that."

Dacien shook his head. "I do, Master. You were focused on him, on healing him, and the difficulties of doing it. You were doing exactly what you were taught, weren't you? Solving the most critical problem first. Your first duty - as a mage of your Clan - to heal your allies. Have I misunderstood? Wasn't that your duty? If you'd stopped to consider strategy, or how clean the tent was, or if Five needed attention - wouldn't you have chided yourself for not focusing on what was important at the moment?"

The mage just looked at the human. "That's ... not precisely right, but ... but you strike to the heart of it, yes."

"So it wasn't your hope that kept you from considering a curse, Master."

Teodor sighed, losing interest. "No, but it doesn't matter. Perhaps it was ... a ... lesser error. But it still could have killed us. Easily. And it was my responsibility to see that didn't happen."

"You did, Master. It didn't happen that way, Master," said Dacien, now sure of himself. "And it didn't because of your hope. Your hope that I could be trusted. You said I saved you - redeemed your mistake, although I don't think I really understood that until just now. But you've also said no other minotaur would treat me as you have. And so ... no other minotaur would have survived that - because of your hope. Trust. In me. Unless I recall wrong, Master, you said that was an earth-magic, something you couldn't have dealt with. It was in you, too, Master, and what saved you was ... was your faith in me. And I'm not sorry at all that you had that faith. Are you?"

The gray minotaur looked at the human, and just smiled. "I am not sorry, no. You are right; this is disappointing, but it is not the end of hope. It is ... sad, though."

"Sad?"

Teodor just nodded, and looked out at the army below. "They will never return, now, to their homes or family, Dacien, because one - one single human - could not act honorably. And that makes me sad."

"But ..." and Dacien paused. "Must it be so?"

Teodor bowed his head, looking down into his lap. "I know how my fellow Lords will react. And I am not jesting when I say that they are, all of them, far more favorably inclined towards humans than most other clans. The first parley was ... well, you heard me. It was the shock of their weapon, such a deadly thing in such an unready hand, that baffled them and ... the press of time that led them to adopt ... ah. Time," Teodor said.

"That's something I haven't really told you about. Originally, Dacien, a minotaur's life was about as long as a human's, perhaps a few years longer and ... our health was better. Another legacy of our creators. But soon after ... after they left us, I suppose, we discovered how to extend our lives. A straightforward magic. A visit to an earth-mage and ... well." Teodor paused. "We are still adjusting to it, I think."

"Every minotaur gets this extension spell?"

"Yes," Teodor said simply. "Everyone. There was ... argument, but in the end, it was decided that everyone should get the spell. Everyone."

"And humans?" Dacien hadn't meant to sound accusing, but it came out that way nonetheless.

"No," said Teodor. "It doesn't work on humans. There's a ... similar spell, one that will keep humans young and in good health. I suppose that extend their - your - life, but only to the extent of the seventy, eighty years of a human lifespan."

"Does it really not work on humans, or is that just what you're told?"

"It's what I'm told," Teodor replied, not really answering the question. "It's a limitation of resonance and symbol, as I understand it. A minotaur is ... is not a human, just closely related to. A human could do such a spell, so ... the magic would work, applied by a human mage. As I understand it. It is, as I mentioned, earth magic and so entirely outside my area of expertise."

"It sounds dubious," Dacien said, finally.

"Perhaps," said Teodor. "I'm ..." He broke off, his forehead wrinkling.

Dacien was about to speak, when another voice, deep and oddly hesitant, interrupted.

_ I'm so sorry, Te. Are your negotiations done? _

A dull throb started in Dacien's neck.

"Hello, Metrios. Not at all, I understand. Briefly, it was a disaster. I am fine, although I - or my image, at least - was attacked. I was able to warn them about the Truces, though. The attack did not appear to be the Imperial policy, just a fanatic, but ..."

_ Even so! _ The voice sounded upset. Sasha refuses to go against the Truces, by the way, and Oz thinks it may be possible to confront the humans without such measure, and he is evolving a more precise war plan than our previous ones. Ruus has passed on your intelligence about these devices, and they appear to suffer from some disadvantages. He is preparing a campaign against them. His tactics are most unusual, and I am not sure I approve, but he's in charge.

The dull throb had spread from the base of his skull to his temples, and Dacien was starting to massage his head.

"He's brilliant," Teodor said softly. "If he can defeat them without resorting to ... extreme measures, that would be ... well. It would be good. Some risk is worth that, I think."

_ Agreed. I have to say Sasha's insistence has made quite an impression on me. I know you think he's a little slow, but he's quite eloquent - and convincing. He's pretty much won Osaze over to his point of view, and I'm not sure he hasn't convinced me. Between the three of us, we've got some ... well, it will use more magic than we typically do in a campaign, but it will all be firmly within the bounds of the Truces. _

Dacien watched Teodor as the minotaur's hand gently began rubbing his temple, too. "Very well. There's no chance we can link up with you?"

_ No, not really. _

"I understand," Teodor said. "Then both I and Benelaus need Lord Green's attentions. Could you let him know we'll be coming?"

_ Yes. Oz is asking if you can make certain not to lead the humans into inhabited lands; much of his strategy will work only as long as we can keep them marching in circles away from Maze _ .

"I'll be careful. I imagine he has some strikes in mind to keep their attention?"

_ Night strikes, raids, things of that nature. _

"I'm in contact with their army now, on a hill to the south, shielded. I'll wait until nightfall to leave, gather Benelaus and Five, and we'll head back towards Xarsen. I'll do my best to leave a minimal trail, but both Benelaus and I have suffered nerve damage. If they think to track us ..."

Dacien's head felt like it would implode from the pressure at his temples.

_ Oz will give them something else to track. He thinks that they will assume you linked back up with us, anyway. _

"Let us hope." Teodor gave a short grunt. "Is there anything more? Yes - I'm assuming prisoners will go to Ourobouros."

_ Such is my understanding. _

"I want one - Commander of Thousands Nestor. Please hold him for me, if you capture him. I'll talk to the Lord of Bones myself. Let Lord Green know we're coming, please?"

_ I will. I apologize for the headache. _

"It's not your fault," Teodor said, and the crushing sense of magic went away.

Dacien looked over at the minotaur now rubbing his scalp. "His signature?"

"Yes," said Teodor. "Lord Lash. Anything painful becomes more so, and farspeaking with him produces a splitting headache." The gray minotaur grimaced. "It does go away. It helps if you close your eyes."

"Even him?"

"No, it doesn't seem to affect him, fortunately for him." The minotaur shook his head, gingerly. "You can shield from the effect, but that's the . Lord Doze - Sasha - has a similar, if less painful effect."

"He puts people to sleep," Dacien guessed.

"Well, he makes them drowsy and inattentive. He doesn't actually put them to sleep unless he's trying." Teodor said. "So they often work together, since everyone nearby needs to be shielded anyway."

"Not the best signatures for an army, are they?" Dacien said.

"No," said Teodor. "Not at all. Since ... as we've really got to wait until ..."

Teodor?

"Ruus," sighed Teodor. "Could you come back in an hour? I just talked with Metrios ..."

I just wanted to say that Xevian will be ready for you when you arrive. I'll reach back an hour or so after sunset.

"Yes, thank you," said Teodor, holding his head, and the feeling of Lord Chime's magic faded. "I don't know why, but talking so someone even afterwards hurts."

"Yes," agreed Dacien wholeheartedly.

"It helps if you can just lay down, shut your eyes, and it will go away," said Teodor.

Dacien moved behind the gray minotaur, and applied a gentle pressure around the base of Teodor's horns.

"Ohhhhh," sighed the gray minotaur. "That feels good. But you ... are you ..."

"It hurt while Met - er, Lord Lash was talking, and while Lord Chimes was talking, but it pretty much just cleared up after the magic stopped," Dacien said.

"Lucky you," said Teodor. "If you don't mind rubbing my head - around the horns like that is very nice, yes, - then I will happily let you. Hold on, let me lay down ..." the minotaur positioned himself in the grass, and turned over, resting his face in his arms. "There," the slightly muffled voice said. Dacien shuffled around, straddling Teodor's back, and began massaging Teodor's head and neck, slowly working his way down to the upper back, and then starting again.

He'd been doing it for a while when Teodor said, in a sort of drowsy voice, "My headache is gone, although I can't say I want you to stop."

"Then I'll keep going," Dacien said. "Maybe work my way down a little."

"That sounds ... most pleasant," the minotaur replied drowsily. "I think I'd like to wait for night to leave, in any case."

Dacien busied himself working on the tense muscles under the soft gray pelt, applying pressure, hard, soft, until each taut rope loosened, relaxed. Between the warmth of the sunlight, and the sounds of camp drifting up from the army, Dacien found himself relaxing, too. He hadn't heard human sounds, he realized, in a long time. He'd been with minotaurs, stuffy, rigid, and ... above all, not quite human.

They didn't walk like humans, their footsteps didn't sound like humans, and even if they spoke elegant Latin and perfect Greek, their voices weren't human voices. He wondered idly if there were minotaur choruses, what sort of sound a massed group would make, while he pressed and rubbed at the quiet minotaur laying on the grass before him, listening to the soft, contented breathing of a minotaur, deeper than that of a human, a little slower, and a sense of the alienness came over him again - a sense that no matter how much Teodor cared for him, looked after him, helped him - he could still never completely know the minotaur, not like he could a ...

Another man, the thought came to him. Except, shouldn't that be another woman? He'd liked ... he hadn't ... but now ...

Dacien sighed, softly. It seemed it had changed.

"Is something wrong?" Teodor's voice was deep, slower than usual. "Dacien?"

"I ... well, Master, it's ..."

Dacien sighed again. "How do you know when I'm thinking about something ... well, something I don't like?"

"I can feel it," Teodor said. "It's ..." the minotaur paused. "Difficult to describe," he finished. "Sort of a ... hmmm. An orange-cold taste of radish."

"Definately difficult to describe," agreed Dacien, trying to imagine that for a moment, and failing. "Well, Master, I ... used to like, well. Women. Females."

"And now you find yourself daydreaming about men? Human men? Or minotaurs?"

"Minotaurs, mostly," admitted Dacien. "But ... yes. Men."

The shoulders hunched a little. "It happens, as a side-effect. It's not a common effect, but it's not unusual either. Or ... or does it distress you?"

Dacien didn't say anything.

"It does distress you," the minotaur exhaled. "Dacien ... I need to ask you, do you think you can accept these changes?" Teodor paused, and then continued. "There are many changes ahead, my Apprentice, on the way to claiming your magic, and these are small, little shifts compared to what will happen. Much of it is growing, your self becoming larger, but ... some parts of you must change, will change, as that happens. This ..." and Dacien heard a rare tone of hesitation from the minotaur, "... is not ... it is not the smallest or last of the fundamental changes before you."

Dacien said nothing, thinking, and Teodor seemed to be content to let him think, even as Dacien slowed down and then stopped the massage he'd been giving the minotaur.

"If I were back in the Empire," Dacien said, "it would probably be hard. But ... I'm not. And I'm not going to be."

"We cannot let a human mage return to the Empire," said Teodor softly, almost regretfully. "It ... it simply cannot happen."

"I know," Dacien said simply. He'd accepted that, he realized. "I'm not even sure I'd want to go back, if I could." He patted the minotaur. "I've ... I've kind of grown fond of you. Master."

"Thank you," Teodor said, amused.

Dacien flushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean ..."

"No, no, I appreciate that, more than I can tell you, Apprentice," Teodor said, more seriously. "Truly. I have wondered ..." the minotaur's voice drifted off. "Still.

"It just sounded ... well, not quite what I meant." Dacien said, and the two of them shared a brief chuckle. Teodor moved slightly, preparing to roll over, and Dacien got off him. The minotaur came a sitting position, however, legs folded underneath him instead of crossed. "I understand, I think," the minotaur said smiling. "Words can betray us, what sounds good in our minds tangles as we speak it, a word's meaning, perfectly clear a moment before, twists as we speak. It happens. Certainly to me."

"Yes," Dacien said.

The minotaur's eyes drifted back to the army below them. "Dacien. If ... the Empire loses this army - if it vanish, never to be heard from again, would that ... hurt the Empire?"

"I'm not sure what you mean?"

"The Empire has borders, it needs defending, the military power of the Army supports the Senate ... what are the effects of the loss of an army and, apparently, a Senator, in terms of control of the Empire. What happens? How fragile are the current rulers? And what ... why did this force invade? Will its loss weaken the Empire? Or ... I wonder ... strengthen it?"

"Strengthen - how could the ... no!"

"Strengthen the current Emperor's hold on it, then," Teodor said calmly. "Perhaps vanish a dangerous general, or troops of ... unknown reliability. I wonder ... I wonder if perhaps this constant irritation isn't the Empire's way of working out instability. Forces that would destabilize or threaten the Empire are instead diverted to attack us - and cease to threaten the Empire," Teodor said thoughtfully. "It would explain ... a number of things, I think."

"That's ... I can't believe that!"

"Can't you?" asked Teodor reflectively. "Whyever not?"

Dacien looked out at the army, and then back at the minotaur. "Do ... do you think that's really it? The Empire didn't just commit us foolishly, but ... in the expectation we'd be ..."

"I'm sorry, Dacien. I don't know. I just ..." Teodor was quiet for a moment. "I don't know. I've never understood why the Empire keeps invading us, when they always lose."

"Wait ... what do you mean, keep invading?"

Teodor tilted his head. "Every fifteen or twenty years or so, for the last sixty years. This is the fourth invasion. Previously, we've generally turned them back at Mog Ford, or ambushed them somewhere between Mog Ford and Howling Pass."

"Oh," said Dacien.

"It occurs to me that ... you probably were only five or so the last time," Teodor said thoughtfully. "Which might explain why ... no, it doesn't, really. There should be some memory, in your Senate, in your officers and generals, something. But you really have never heard of previous invasions?"

"No," said Dacien. "Never."

"Peculiar," said Teodor, more to himself than Dacien. "You see, Dacien, I don't know. So I make up explanations, trying to understand this behavior. I tell myself story after story, trying to make it simpler and fit what's happened, and poke and question and play with the story, until ... sometimes, once in a while, I arrive at a story that fits." The minotaur looked pensive. "I don't think this one does, not completely." The minotaur looked out, and shook his head. "There's more to it, I think."

Dacien smiled at Teodor, and asked, "How long will we wait here?"

"Until dark," Teodor said. "It's a little risky ..." he stopped as the air seemed to develop a heaviness, not unpleasant, but still a tangible weight that had nothing to do with Dacien's own body.

Lord Fog. I hope I find you at a convenient time??

"Entirely convenient, Lord Green. I am at your disposal."

You wish to meet me at House Green?

"Yes," Teodor responded. "The curse - you've been caught up, to some extent?"

Gruesomely. I do not understand the nature of your injuries, however.

"Numbness. I expect nerve damage, and possibly more. Walking is quite difficult. I expect Benelaus will be worse, and I want my slave Five examined, as well, although he's showed no symptoms."

That sounds inconvenient, but does it require me? I mean, is there something in particular that concerns you? I'd ... I'm honored that you'd think of me, but I will admit your request came as a surprise.

"This was a malicious, tenacious, contagious curse. The curse is dealt with, but I have no way to know what damage it left, and no way to address that damage. You, Lord Green, are the unquestioned expert on such things."

You think the human mages were that clever?

"Someone was. How do you know this originated as a human curse?"

You think a minotaur taught it to them?

"A minotaur, a wolven, a jaguen, an old book, an accursed weapon ... no, Lord Green, I'm not taking the risk that this spell was human-developed or simple. My stupidity in that regard already put Five's life at risk, and I won't underestimate this effect twice."

I hadn't heard that part of it.

"I didn't realize the curse was contagious, so I linked Five and Benelaus in a stabilization spell."

Blood-sharing? You know how to do that?

"Yes, of course."

I thought the technique was lost; I was looking into it recently, and could find nothing.

"Then I do apologize," Teodor said, actually sounding contrite. "All the records you'd really need are at Mistingrise. I would, of course, be delighted to show you what I've figured out. Perhaps an earth-mage might be able to suggest improvements. And, of course, I'm done with references themselves. I was planning to write a small treatise on it - might I furnish you my draft and sources?"

I appreciate your offer, Lord Fog, very much, although I will be content to learn the procedure. I will meet you at House Green, and, if you like, send a small force to meet you. At the moment, you and Benelaus are travelling with just the two slaves? Five and the feral?

"Yes," said Teodor.

And I will contact you every few hours - it was either me or Lash, I fear.

"I love Metrios dearly, but I'd greatly prefer you as my contact. Thank you."

He'll understand, I'm sure. Do you think you can do something about Lord Doze?

"What do you mean?"

He refuses to permit us to use war-magics. All the others are agreed; he is the final holdout.

"Oh. Yes, Metrios mentioned something of the sort. I don't know, Lord Green. Metrios said he was intransigent on the point, and Osaze thinks he can deal with the weapons the humans have without war-magic. As long as that is the case - as long as the needs remains hypothetical - I doubt Sasha will change his position."

We should exterminate them before they exterminate all of us.

"A discussion for a later time, Lord Green, because I sense another quarrel in the making."

How ... no, no, you're right. We do not need more points of contention. I do apologize, Lord Fog, and I hope you will feel welcome at House Green.

"I'm sure Benelaus and I will be delighted at anything better than camp food and a tent. I doubt we'll be difficult guests at all."

I cannot imagine your being a difficult guest. With your permission, Lord Fog, I will contact you later today, around sunset.

"An hour or so afterward would be better, if that would not inconvenience you too much, Lord Green."

Not a bit. Until then, Lord Fog.

The heavy weight of Lord Green's magic faded, and Teodor shook his head. "I won't pretend to you I'm looking forward to this, Dacien." The minotaur considered. "I may ... well. I want to keep you away from Lord Green, far away."

"You don't want him to know you're training me?"

"In part, yes," said Teodor. "And I want to conceal your potential. It would alarm him. He'll sense you're not locked if he touches you, and that will provoke the most unpleasant argument." The gray minotaur grimaced, as if his earlier headache had returned. "Do try not to let him touch you, please."

"Locked, Master?"

"Yes, locked ... oh." Teodor smiled wanly at Dacien. "Most mage-gifted humans are used as lenses, you understand."

"I'd gathered that."

"But untrained mages are a danger to themselves and others, yes?"

Dacien nodded slowly. "You ... did say that. But then ... you have some way of locking a human so he can be used as a lens, but can't be a mage."

"We do," acknowledged Teodor. "A minotaur could be so locked, as well." His eyes grew remote. "I've considered doing that to Five."

"Why? He's ..."

"He's been trained as a slave," Teodor said sharply. "Fully trained. Just because I don't approve of it, doesn't mean I don't know just how deep that training goes. Be happy, Dacien, that I got you before it happened to you. I am, I assure you, very happy indeed that you came directly to me."

"I didn't realize ... it goes that deep?"

"Deeper," said Teodor. "When applied to a minotaur. Or it can, and ... I think it has. I don't know if I can break him out of it. If I try and fail, then I'd practically have to kill him." Teodor grimaced again. "It's not a decision I'm looking forward to."

"Shouldn't it be his decision?"

The gray minotaur gave a short bark of laughter. "He can't make decisions. He's been trained not to. Didn't you ... no, I'm sure you did, you just ... well. Do you recall when I asked him to consent to the stabilization spell?"

"Yes. But he said 'no.'"

"And then he said 'yes,'" Teodor sighed. "He was seeking the decision I wanted. It was an unfair question to ask him. But ... magic of that sort, should never be used without as much consent as possible. It's ... it's so easy to misuse. Abuse. Five's been conditioned to ... you don't understand just how deep that conditioning is, Dacien. It's not a thing you turn on or off, like ..." the minotaur fell silent. "Please, Dacien, I ... I don't think I can continue on this topic. It is old, worn ground and filled with unhealed wounds."

"I'm sorry," Dacien said.

"You're blameless in this."

"No, Master, I'm sorry ... for. Everything, I guess. You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me."

"No," agreed Teodor. "Nor Five, nor Benelaus."

"No, not that, Master, I meant, out here. Would you?"

Teodor paused. "I don't know. This army would have taken us by surprise, besieged Maze soon enough, I suppose. Who can say what would have happened then? You may be right. I probably would not have left Mistingrise."

"We'll be back soon, Master."

Teodor smiled. "Am I so transparent?"

It was Dacien's turn to smile. "Would you believe ... I recognize homesickness? My soldiers ... when I was a subofficer, would get homesick."

"Yes," breathed the gray minotaur softly. "I miss my home. You were only there for a night, so you didn't have a chance to see it, or my gardens - nothing compared with Lord Green's, of course, but still ... well. Hmm. Actually, I would like to see Lord Green's gardens. They're supposed to be spectacular."

"You like gardens?"

"Yes. My father was a farmer ... he raised flowers. And pears. I always liked the orchards, very quiet, I could see the sky. Not another soul in sight, just rows and rows of trees ..." Teodor's voice slowed. "I'd always meant to plant an orchard at Mistingrise. I'm not sure what would grow there, though. It's always so foggy there ..."

"You could ask Lord Green," Dacien suggested.

Teodor blinked. "An excellent suggestion, Dacien. Better than you know, I think." The minotaur nodded. "I would like ... it would be convenient if we were on better terms, certainly, perhaps that might be a possible rapprochement. I'm sure we'd still disagree over policy, but ..." Teodor looked up at the sun. "Still a few hours to go."

"Yes," Dacien said. He looked over at the minotaur. "Maybe we could find ... some good way to spend them?"

Teodor smiled. "I'd love to, Dacien, but ... I haven't been functional in that respect since the battle. I'm not getting much sensation below my waist at all." The minotaur tilted his head. "One of the reasons I'm eager to get the problem fixed."

"Oh," said Dacien, walking over to the minotaur, and sitting up against him. "Is that why ... it doesn't matter. It's temporary. And ... I could just sit in your lap, couldn't I?" the human asked, climbing onto the unresisting Teodor, and slipping the minotaur's arms around him. "This is actually very nice."

"It is," breathed Teodor into his hair, tightening his arms around his apprentice. "Very nice."

Dacien wriggled back against the minotaur, breathing in the warm salt-pine scent.

Teodor actually waited until after the last light had faded to move; wrapping them both in a cloak of magic for their return trip. They passed two scouts, unseen, until they got back to the further-ravaged camp. Teodor simply sighed at the destruction, peered about, and found the hint of magic that led to the concealed tent.

Five had folded himself in by Benelaus, and warrior had an arm around the slave.

"Lord Fog," said Benelaus, in a serious tone. "How did your negotiations go? I ... I'm not sure what I thought, and I'm still not sure if negotiating is a good idea, but you were there for quite a while."

The gray minotaur just shook his head. "Poorly, Warrior. Very poorly," and he gave Benelaus a concise explanation of what had happened. Dacien was pleased that Teodor did mention that the attack appeared to be the result of a single fanatic.

At the end, Benelaus just looked up and said, "Well, then I suppose it could have gone worse."

Teodor laughed, paused for breath, and then just starting laughing some more, until he had to sit down on the bed. Benelaus watched him, and waited until he'd stopped.

"There are some problems, Lord Fog."

"Ah?" The humor vanished from Teodor's face.

"I've run into some physical issues ..."

"Yes," sighed Teodor. "Your arm is a disaster. I didn't have time to heal it right - I was in a desperate hurry to do just enough to keep you alive so we could deal with the curse. I'm sorry."

Benelaus shook his head. "You have have nothing to apologize for, at least not to me, Lord Fog. Please don't make me beg you to accept my gratitude and confidence that you did all that was possible."

"No, no," said Lord Fog. "I am sorry. You have enough to worry about without carrying a burden of mine. Please, go on."

"I appear to be incontinent," Benelaus said, forcing the words out. "It's rather ..."

"The curse damaged your nerves. I have the same problem, as well as being unable to become erect."

"And that," Benelaus acknowledged. "And I can't feel my legs or my left arm at all."

"Can you walk?"

"If Five guides me."

Teodor nodded. "Yes. Well, the question of control over our bodily functions I can address temporarily with magic, as I've done for myself. I can't restore feeling to you, or to me. I've limited healing abilities, pretty much restricted to gross wounds - cuts. Broken bones, ruptured organs, to a lesser extent. But I've arranged for us to see Lord Green - he is without question the most experienced and talented healer in Lycaili. His estate is here, perhaps five days away, so we don't even need to cross a border."

Benelaus' expression lightened at Teodor's words. "That's good, very good, although I would have settled for just the bodily functions working properly."

"Not working properly," Teodor said apologetically. "Under control, but that control will be mine."

"Still better than the alternative," said Benelaus, in a determinedly cheerful way.

"Yes," said Teodor. "Five, are you encountering any ... numbness or dysfunction?"

"No, Master."

Teodor nodded. "Please let me know immediately if anything change."

"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master."

Teodor looked at the tent for a moment. "Five, do you know how to collapse the tent without ... without Luzeil to facilitate it?"

"Yes, Master. It's designed to fold up, Master, I can have it down in five minutes. And I can carry it, Master, while helping Warrior Benelaus."

Teodor nodded. "Excellent. Do so, please. Don't worry about Benelaus, please, I'll help him myself. Dacien, outside, please? Can you take that pack - yes. Excellent." Teodor assisted Benelaus outside, and Five followed them about thirty seconds later. The black-and-white minotaur blurred a little again as he circled the tent, and in another few minutes, it had collapsed into a manageable bundle again, carefully folded until it was about the size of a minotaur. Five hoisted it onto his shoulder, and paused.

"That way," Teodor said, and they set off. "Please stay close to me; the concealment is not large. Each time it is breached it becomes weaker. The Imperial Army does have mages with them, and human mages are always unknown quantities. I am reasonably sure that this concealment is effective; I do not wish to experiment to see at what point it fails."

They set off through the forest, following Teodor. When the light from the setting sun had faded, he sighed, and a dull blue glimmer sprung up around their feet. "There," he said. "It may be harder to conceal, but even so small a thing as a twisted ankle would delay us. I'll keep the light low. Is it sufficient? Dacien? Your eyes are probably least sensitive. Is this enough light for you?"

"Yes, Master," said Dacien.

Lord Green contacted them some time after that, as they picked their way carefully through the dark forest toward a line of mountains.

Lord Fog?

"Lord Green. We're moving toward the East Wardens. I was thinking of heading for that little valley just on the other side of Mur. Do you know which one I'm talking about?"

There are two valleys, one to the north, one to the south.

"The smaller one, to the north."

Yes. I will direct the relief force - ten warriors - there. They are led by the Warlord Havel. Do you know him?

"Not even by reputation," Teodor said.

He's young; he achieved warlord status eight months ago. Just about anyone senior is with Osaze. But he seems reliable enough. I'm sending my own guard, all but Lukas.

"Is that wise?"

I'm not concerned. I can defend myself, both magically and otherwise. I train with Lukas at least once a week. You may need them, after all, and it should improve your speed.

"True. I'm not ... moving as quickly as I should, nor is Benelaus. I have to admit the human isn't slowing us down; it's really me and Benelaus."

Perhaps if I came with the relief?

"You should not hazard yourself over the Wardens; it's simply too dangerous. These human weapons killed Luzeil - and he was a warlord as well as an experienced healer. You're too valuable to risk so, Lord Green. And I cannot imagine your other tasks will wait.

No. You are painfully correct, Lord Fog. I am simply not used to being ... helpless.

"You are not helpless, Lord Green, you have simply reached the limit of the help you can be. We are all stretched to our limits, and I doubt any of us are used to that."

I'm sure you won't mind if I continue to search for some further way to assist you.

"I thank you gratefully for doing so, Lord Green," Teodor said, unruffled. "Not that I would have expected less."

Shall I contact you in the morning?

"We will camp at daybreak. Give us an hour to rise, and any time after that would be excellent."

Very well. Until then, Lord Fog.

Dacien found it impossible to judge how fast they were moving; the eerie blue flicker, although it made walking a lot easier, made it much harder to see into the darkness beyond or judge distances. It was like walking through an endless forest. They stopped once to eat - the dull travel bread washed down with weak tea. They stopped once, also, to avoid a human patrol, although Dacien neither saw nor heard anything.

Morning came, and Five put the tent back up while a visibly tired Teodor just watched, with Benelaus. The Ourobouros minotaur had stumbled repeatedly in the night, and he, too, looked tired. Dacien asked Five quietly what he could to help, and was soon serving tea and bread to Benelaus, and then Teodor, after Teodor had enspelled their camp into .

"Someone is looking for us," he'd said, finally. "He - or she, I make no assumptions here - is tracking us by tracking the cloak. Which is hard, and ... harder, now that we've stopped, and I've put up some diversions, but ..." the gray minotaur paused. "Nothing prevents us from being tracked normally, and that ... that would be inconvenient. I truly do not want an encounter with this human army." Dacien felt more gray magic seeping out from the minotaur, twisting in a strange way. "I hate to foul the weather for Lord Doze but I think some winds would obscure our trail; I don't need rain, just some wind ..." Teodor was silent, although Dacien could feel him continuing to work. He accepted a cup of honey-laced tea and some travel bread.

About twenty minutes later, after Benelaus and Five had curled up on the bed together with Teodor's tacit approval, the gray minotaur looked up with a faint smile. "There we go. I threatened some rain, and two of their weather mages fought me." Teodor's smile increased just a tiny bit. "They've called in a heavy wind to fend off my stormclouds. Isn't that a shame?"

Dacien nodded.

"Really, though, it was either that or let it rain ..." Teodor said with a yawn. "I don't think I've been this tired for ... well, a long time."

"Should ... should I keep a watch?"

"Thank you, Dacien, for the offer. But anyone trying to find us will have to batter through the nondiscernment and ... that would wake me up." The gray minotaur gave a little snort. "I just hope their attempts to find it don't keep me awake." Teodor closed his eyes. "I'd be very pleased if you'd join me, Dacien. I see no reason to sleep alone."

"Thank you, Master," Dacien said. "I'll come. In a minute or two."

"Whenever you're ready," the minotaur said sleepily.

They merely cuddled that night, and the night after that, and the night after that, as Teodor looked more and more drawn. Only Dacien could feel the constant surge of magic as he manipulated the weather; wrapped them in invisibility, shielded them from the soft, tenuous probes of magic that quested out, seeking them. Skillful gray magic teased the probes aside, deflected them, and potent gray force warred for control of the sky. The wind had died on that second day, no doubt as their own scouts had reported how it affected the physical trail, and the opposing mages - two of them - had called Teodor's bluff about rain. He'd battled with them, and now the wind was here at his behest, scouring away at the evidence of their passage, but the effort all this cost the minotaur was painfully clear to Dacien. The food was dull, and even providing clean water cost the minotaur something - very little, but even that little was too much when he was so constantly harried.

Teodor didn't know where the Imperial army was; after the disastrous battle the large army had split into three. Osaze's force had located two of them, and was busy with those. The third ... Teodor was grimly certain, in his conversations with Metrios and Lord Green that the other two were blocking Osaze to permit the third group to run him down, and neither of them disagreed. Nor were any of them able to sense the humans; whatever mages were with them had clearly mastered cloaking magics at least as well as Teodor had. Teodor even wondered to Lord Green if perhaps they weren't learning from his own concealments.

For all the maneuvering, they'd encountered scouts directly only twice, and each time Teodor was able to misdirect them.

Dacien had begged Teodor to let him help; let him replenish the magic that Teodor was spending at such a ruinous rate, at the very least, to let him help charge the minotaur's spells. It had worked - in a way - before, and now, surely, was the time to try again. Teodor had listened, nodded, thanked him, and said no; it was too dangerous. "This won't kill me. And ... perhaps, Dacien-Apprentice, if it were just you and I, I would risk it. But ... but without me, Benelaus and Five could not elude the humans.

"I cannot allow them to be captured. And ... relief is not far away. Another day, or two, and we'll be at the mountains. They are unlikely to pursue us there."

But that had been three days ago, and the mountains were still at least another day's travel.

"Master," Dacien had said. "Please let me help."

Teodor smiled tiredly. "I want to keep you in reserve, Dacien. It will be better - much, much better, much easier, much simpler, if I do not have to call on your talent a second time. Even once will cause me much trouble, and you, too." The smile faded into a resigned expression. "I will shield you from it, do not fear, but, I admit ... it is no longer the simple thing. I am not unhappy - I am certain that I, Five, and Benelaus would all be dead were it not for you, Dacien. But ... explaining to my fellow Lords just how a human in my hands came to be so capable ... that will be difficult."

"I'm sorry, Master."

Teodor gave a short, brief laugh. "I'm not. It's most preferable to being dead. I suppose you could have rejoined the Imperial army, if you wished."

"I don't wish," Dacien said softly. "Master, it just hurts ..."

"To know that your gifts could ease my immediate burden, and be denied, over and over." Teodor said quietly.

"Yes!"

"I understand, truly, I do understand. It hurts us to see those we love in distress, and be unable to help." Teodor's eyes grew shiny, and he blinked away the wetness. "I have felt that pain. And I imagine it is sharper, for you, since it would be so easy for you to help, fully within your gifts, and ... yet I refuse, again and again. I do it not because I am proud, although I probably am, nor too arrogant to accept that I could use your aid, not because I hold you in contempt ... but because I love you too much to risk you in a confrontation with my fellow Lords. Please Dacien, I am sorry. It is not that I think I am too strong, but that I am too weak to dare that danger unless ... unless all depends on it." The minotaur looked down at Dacien. "Forgive me the pain I cause you, Dacien. You are deserving of better ... I assuage my conscience with the thought I do all I can."

"You're asking me to forgive you?" said Dacien. "I ..." and then he was silent. "Of course I do, Master. And I'm sorry to press the point. But ... please, Master, if it becomes ... becomes necessary, then please don't wait too long. I keep remembering what you said, that ..."

"That had I been stronger, readier, I could have handled it better, yes," said Teodor. "You have my word that I will, rather than risk our capture, use you, and I will do it while I still have control. Is ... is that sufficient?"

"Yes, Master," Dacien said.

And so Dacien had not broached the subject again. He caught Teodor looking at him thoughtfully, but the gray minotaur said nothing, and the next day, about an hour after dawn - Teodor had asked them to keep going - they encountered Havel and his force. Teodor sketched a larger protection while the group ate. Havel had brought some real food, and after six days of travel bars and water that was welcome, especially when they'd be moving on, since the warriors had started breaking their camp down as soon the four had arrived. It would be a long day.

The minotaurs had set up their tiny camp at the base of a trail up into the mountains, and after stumbling around all night, Dacien wasn't looking forward to the hike. He looked back, and down, at the forest stretching out, and sighed. It was going to be a long day. Teodor and Benelaus were tired, he was tired, even Five was a little tired, and ... Dacien looked back up at the uncompromising mountains, and hoped the trail wouldn't be too steep. Havel - a midnight black minotaur - had spent the entire time talking to Teodor - Lord Fog, Dacien thought belatedly. And Benelaus, although the Ourobouros minotaur had been quiet. At one point, Teodor called for Five to join them, and the white-and-black minotaur leaped to join them.

They finally came to some conclusion, as Havel went off and collected a number of the warriors. Dacien watched, not quite nervously, but he had to admit that seeing this many armed minotaurs reminded him unpleasantly of the disaster at Mog Ford. He kept expecting to see wolven prowling around, but ... not.

"You. Are you ready to go?" It was one of the minotaurs Havel had spoken with; a large minotaur with a glossy brown-gold pelt. He had appeared - almost literally - in front of Dacien. The human hadn't seen him walk up, or even walk away from the others.

"Uh - yes." Dacien belatedly added "Sir."

The minotaur didn't seem to notice. "Good." The gold-brown warrior looked around thoughtfully. "We will be over these mountains by tomorrow morning, human."

Dacien simply looked up; first at the minotaur, and then at the mountains. They hadn't seemed so ... tall.

"No, we do not expect you to run the entire way," the minotaur said with a muzzle-twisted grin, as he turned around and squatted down. "Get on my back."

"You - you can't ..."

"Human, you cannot keep up with us," the minotaur said patiently. "Nor are you the only one. Look."

Teodor and Benelaus were also climbing onto the backs of two other warriors. "Get on."

Dacien did, he was a little tired, but climbing up onto the back of the strong minotaur wasn't difficult. The minotaur took most of his weight on his back, holding his legs, and Dacien wrapped his own arms around the minotaur's shoulders. He felt for all the world like a child getting a piggy-back ride.

"Are you secure, human?"

"Yes, thank you," Dacien started, only to have the warrior hush him as Havel began to speak.

"We will stop at First View, or until anyone needs to break out." The warlord paused. "We do not have enemies at our heels; lives do not pend on our arrival. We have great need for haste. Therefore, I will be displeased to arrive at First View and discover that anyone has held when they should have let go. The air thins, and some of us have -" and the black minotaur gestured to the three carrying Teodor, Benelaus, and Dacien "- unusual burdens. Five minutes to breathe will not delay us, but an hour to tend to someone tempworn will try my temper sorely. Some may have doubts about this one's ability to keep up," and the warlord pointed to Five. "I have spoken with him, and we will deal with that when and if it happens.

"Prepare," was all Havel said.

Dacien was totally unprepared for what happened next. The cool breeze from the mountain wavered and died, and the light began to dim. At the same time, he felt strangely light, almost - but not quite - as if he were falling. The warrior jumped forward, the light brightened, and he - and all of the troop - began to run. They matched footsteps and strides, and Dacien realized that the light got brighter and brighter as the minotaurs picked up speed - a strange kind of speed.

It wasn't the strong resistance of water; he'd run through water, and it wasn't quite like that, but it was as close as he could come. There was a constant force impeding them, not like a breeze, but almost like a pull, as if the faster the minotaur went, the stronger the pull became. And although the minotaur was running uphill, a run, not a walk, it seemed almost slow, like the minotaur was just going through the motions of running without actually running - an exaggerated slow jog.

But that wasn't right, either.

The resistance got harder, much harder, and the minotaur slowed abruptly - the entire troop slowed - some of them were almost hanging in mid-air along the trail, coming down like an air-puffed pig's bladder instead of the massive warriors that they were, and the light, so bright that Dacien had squeezed his eyes shut against it, had dimmed, lessened, darkened to black.

Dacien felt something give way; something ripped, a tearing sensation that came as a relief, like a pressure removed, like his ears popping in the mountains, but it wasn't any of those things. It was the lines of magic, and even as he realized it, his senses shifted, and he could see the disruption - the minotaurs were moving in some way against it, and the tearing he'd felt were the subtle connections of magic being parted. He could see them, moving along the mountain trail, and at the same time forcing the rip in the magic forward, onward, the entire group cutting a path for themselves. They'd just torn through a place where the connections were stronger, and ... up ahead, he could sense another one. It was like a dull, thick wall that he could feel, and the minotaurs seemed intent on running into it at full speed. Only instead of hitting it, they slowed, everything slowed, the light dimmed again, dark, darker, almost out, and the pressure was like a hovering thunderstorm, oppressive and weighty, threatening to crush him.

Dacien hadn't intended to do it. But something gave, something like one's ears popping, something in him, not the weighty resistance this time, but it was a bubble of his own magic, rippling out from him, easing itself into and then through the resistance -

• and -

• for some small unmeasurable moment the minotaurs faltered as the bubble surrounded them -

• and then they were wrapped in it, and the resistance vanished. The light returned to normal, their speed increased again, and again, and again, until they were running normally, surrounded in a bubble of Dacien's magic, insulating them. He could feel the magic crawl around them, it was like the brush of heavy silk on skin, like one of Teodor's caresses, those nights just gone.

Dacien had no way to tell how long they'd been running, and he suspected that in some way the question might not even make sense, but they ascended, the trail getting steeper and steeper before leveling out onto a -

• his bubble broke then, the minotaurs falling through it into -

• back into -

They dropped out of Tempus - and Dacien knew it had to be that, on a large overlook. They were in the mountains now, not just near them, and much higher than Dacien would have guessed. The mountain - mountains, the mountain range, was like a long thin line running to and fro like a wall holding back a green ocean of forest. Dacien looked out, wondering if the Imperial army would be visible from here.

Although the minotaurs were breathing deeply, they looked to be in good shape, given that they'd just run - well, Dacien didn't know how far, but he was pretty sure he could identify the little valley they'd started from, far far below them. The minotaurs themselves were looking surprised. Havel was wearing an expression somewhere between elation and bafflement. When the warrior let him down, Dacien walked over to where Teodor was having a discussion.

"Did you feel that, Lord Fog?"

"I did," the gray minotaur said thoughtfully. "The resistance of time parted, as if we were flowing with it rather than against it. I don't believe I've ever heard of such a thing. I have very little skill with Tempus. Was ... was that your doing, Warlord?"

"No," the warlord said. "I never imagined it could be done ... But it was fantastic! I almost didn't want to stop here."

"I'm glad you did," Teodor said. He looked out over the land and shook his head.

"I ... well. Knowing what it feels like, I ... I might be able to do it. For myself, not more than that, I'm sure, but I ... I think I could manage it. Maybe." Havel paused. "It did feel - I thought I felt it expand around us."

The gray minotaur's eyes sought out Dacien as he walked towards them. "I know so little about Tempus, Warlord. I never achieved even a red sash"

"I can't believe someone dedicated enough to be a mage couldn't master tempus," Havel said. "Was there something else?"

"My gifts came on me very early, Warlord, during my ... first year at college. I was pulled out for training, and then ... I found myself working with Lord Ember until his death."

"I recall that. He was a great mage."

"Yes. I took a place on the Council at that time ... never finished college, you see."

Havel shook his head. "You should get your head ... you don't have a guard, do you?"

"No," admitted Teodor with a smile. "My main responsibility as a Councilor is to keep the paths closed along the Low Fangs, and such weather working as comes my way. It's quite peaceful - dull even, really. I've spent the last decade at Mistingrise. It's not far from our Labyrinth, but ... it's quite isolated, quiet, not a very prestigious posting for a warrior or a warlord. I'm not even sure what one would do there."

"But as a Councilor, you deserve a personal guard!"

"But I don't need one," Teodor said gently. "Lord Green travels extensively around Lycaili, he needs one. Lord Chimes serves as the clan coordinator. Lord Winter is an ambassador. Lord Lash ... well, he and Lord Doze travel, if not as frenetically as poor Lord Green. I'm really just a backup mage for Ruus - Lord Chimes, I mean. If I needed warriors, I'd ask for some. Really."

"But a warlord could train you."

Teodor shrugged. "It's impossible to do magic while sustaining tempus, I'm told. And any warlord good enough to train me ... well, I'd be doing him a grave disservice, marooning him at dull lifeless gray Mistingrise. It suits me, I rather enjoy my quiet life."

"Perhaps Warlord Osaze might be tempted to join you?"

"No," sighed Teodor. "He did ... he came out for a while. Said the quiet drove him crazy; he wasn't happy there."

"I see," said Havel. "That's a shame, he ... he speaks well of you."

"Does he?" smiled Teodor. "How ... yes. He's most gracious. And I admit ... I tried to stay at House Wide. But ... the glittering parties, the endless invitations, ... it was all so dizzying after ... it didn't suit me. Although I admit it would take me a very long time to tire of that marvelous view ... have you seen it?"

"Several times," the black minotaur said. "I've been to a number of those glittering parties of his." He paused. "And some dinners."

"Private dinners?" asked Teodor, almost whimsically.

"Yes, Lord Fog." The black minotaur looked almost guilty for a moment, his eyes shifting to and from Teodor.

"Please ... call me Teodor," the gray minotaur said softly.

"If I may be Havel."

"I am deeply honored," Teodor said. "We'd planned an hour here, time for me, a break for your warriors and yourself. Will you still need an hour?"

"No. We'll eat, but ..."

"Then I will do my best to speed us along." The gray minotaur turned to Dacien. "Would you assist me, please?"

"Of course, Master," Dacien said, hurrying along as Teodor walked over to the edge of the overlook. "What can I do?"

"Magic," whispered Teodor softly. "I don't suppose you had something to do with that ... extraordinary occurrence?"

"I think ... it was an accident. Like ... kind of like burping. Master."

"I find that impossible to imagine," Teodor said remotely, standing at the edge.

"It's true!"

"Oh, I beg your pardon," Teodor said, apologetically. "I didn't mean I doubted you, I don't. I just ... well, I can't imagine how that happened. We'll discuss it ... later. But is it likely to happen again?"

Dacien nodded. "I'm not sure if I could stop it. Running through the magic like that ... it's, well, not painful exactly but ..."

"That I do understand," Teodor said softly. "We mages experience magic as ... a sensation, but we have only our normal sensations, and so they must do double duty to interpret what we sense." He pointed a small rock outcropping. "There. What do you sense there, Apprentice?"

Dacien went over to it, and saw what he'd thought was just a stone was carved into a ... a horn, he thought, a minotaur's horn, pointing straight up with a little curve ... and incised with complex patterns. The stone and carvings were dulled by time and the heavy lichen encrusting it. He touched it carefully. The stone was cold - bitingly cold, and not physically. It pulled on him, pulled magic through him almost voraciously and Dacien pulled away from it.

"What ... what is it?"

"It's a spell, put here almost sixteen hundred years ago by the then Lord of Dolmens of Ourobouros. Lycaili inherited it when ... when we left Ourobouros. We call these obelisks or dolmens, although a dolmen is usually much larger."

"What does it do?"

"I want you to feed me magic, as you did before," Teodor said quietly. "No one will question my using a human."

"Gladly, Master!" Dacien said. Teodor was already building ... something; Dacien could sense it, and the brooding presence of the stone. Enhancing Teodor's spell was ... harder than he'd expected. Whatever the gray minotaur was doing was complex, and although the spell was clear and precise, it was also twisted about in ways that made Dacien's eyes twist, until, remembering what Teodor had said about senses, he closed them. That helped a little, but the trick was to feed magic into the entire thing, evenly, gently ...

And then suddenly the spell started pulling power from him. No, not just from him, but from ... everything. Everywhere. Dacien stumbled, before ... there. The bubble he'd created by accident on the way up the mountain he created again, deliberately, letting the pull of magic go around it. As an afterthought he extended the bubble to Teodor. "Master?"

The gray minotaur was looking even grayer, but he had a contented smile on his face. "Look," he whispered, pointing out to the lands they'd come from. Dacien followed his finger and swallowed. "I've always had a particularly good touch with this magic ... this, Apprentice, is where I truly got my name."

Dacien could understand that. Where they had looked out over miles of forest disappearing into the horizon, all he could see, now, far below wasan endless ocean of churning gray fog.