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Ellyria’s. The Kindred flickered and wavered, bending to winds Byre could not detect. There can be no fresh pact-making for the Gifts.
    “But that is why I came.” Byre took a step forward, thinking of all he had been through and his own father’s sacrifice.
    The flames around them grew suddenly furious and hot, so that his skin began to sizzle.
    “Careful.” Pelanor grabbed hold of his arm, her long nails dragging sharply into his skin. “You may not burn, but I think I could.”
    Despite being angry with her for the interruption, Byre did not want to see her go up like a candle. The Kindred’s eyes now flickered with blue fire. You came here because the after-time and the before-time brought you here.
    Pelanor’s eyebrows rose in surprise. The way the Kindred lived was almost as much a mystery to Byre as any Blood Witch was. His own people, if they had known any more, had never had the chance to impart it to him. He was only aware that the Kindred did not exist in time in the same way as any other creature in Conhaero. Even the Vaerli had to abide by the hours and minutes, but the Kindred were far more than that.
    When he looked up the blazing creature, almost indiscernible against the flames, Byre knew he was in grave danger. His throat was dry, but he managed to croak out, “What would you have me do?”
    Cast yourself upon the tides of time. The fire arched and spun, and then flowed aside leaving a gap just big enough for two to pass through; the end was in darkness. Live as one of the Kindred and see what you may learn.
    “And the Blood Witch?” Byre croaked.
    The Kindred’s eyes of flame raked over Pelanor’s small form. She is part of you, so she may travel at your side, but make sure she does not stray too far from your side. We cannot protect her.
    So there was only the darkness now for both of them—that and the uncertainty of time.
    “Deeper and deeper,” Pelanor murmured. “How much farther can there be to go down?” Her voice was full of both fear and desire. She certainly had the spirit of an explorer. Together they moved forward, though this time he would not hold her hand.
    As they went past the barrier of flame, the sensation of heat abruptly left them for another less familiar, less identifiable feeling. Byre felt his skin shudder to a cool touch that stabbed through to the bone like thousands of long needles. The sensation passed through his whole body in waves, and by the way Pelanor shook her head he realized that she was laboring under the same peculiarity.
    This discomfort was merely the appetizer. Whatever was beyond the flames was stronger than Vaerli or Phaerkorn, and they had stepped right into it. Minds were knocked sideways, and all that Pelanor and Byre were became totally irrelevant. In the tides of before-time, all that they were washed away, long forgotten.

    The Rutilians were moving down the bleak valley, looking carefully around them, ready for an ambush. Equo, crouched behind the outcrop of rock in the ridge above, felt the sweat begin to bead on his forehead. The summer sun was so strong up here that he almost wanted to be down in the canyon, out of the shade—almost.
    Glancing to his right, he caught Varlesh’s eye. The man jerked his head up in acknowledgement and raised the square of glass upward to the sky. Sending the flash of brilliance into the clouds was his task, while Equo did the same but across the canyon.
    That was all it took. Baraca’s troops, concealed under canvases with a light covering of the red soil of the area on top, emerged among the crevices in the cliffs and poured down in the valley, as well. While his soldiers were well concealed, the commander was not. Spurning any camouflage, Baraca himself leapt across to a teetering outcrop with the agility of a teenager. It was impressive and a little disturbing. He was a great burly man—or had been before the power of the Void had entered him. Now he was a scion. Seeing him standing there,