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Alifros beset by plague or famine
– or war.’
    ‘War,’ said Thasha. ‘It all fits, doesn’t it? Arunis did everything he could to start a war between Arqual and the Mzithrin. And we made it easy for him, both sides did,
with all our greed and hate and holy nonsense.’
    She looked pointedly at the
sfvantskors
. Silence fell. The North, the humans’ battered homeland, was briefly, painfully present.
    ‘I think war is getting now,’ said Neda.
    ‘There you go again,’ said the marine.
    Pazel lay on his stomach on a wide, flat stone, and Ramachni jumped up beside him and licked his ankle. A cool painlessness flowed from the mage’s touch into his wounded
leg; soon the whole limb felt heavy and remote. Then Bolutu came towards him with a knife, and they made him look away. Pazel could not feel the touch of the blade, but he heard a faint slicing
sound as Bolutu cut out the dying flesh. Afraid he might be sick, he forced his thoughts elsewhere.
    ‘Where is Myett?’
    Bolutu frowned and glanced upwards. ‘She has scaled the tower anew. Ensyl plans to go looking for her. Be still now, let me work.’
    He bandaged Pazel’s leg with scraps of cloth washed clean in the river, and Ramachni set a paw on the wound and spoke a few soft words. The delightful coolness grew stronger, but Ramachni
warned him that the pain would return. ‘I would fear for your leg if it did not,’ added Bolutu.
    ‘The bite will heal,’ said Ramachni, ‘but the damage may be of more than one kind. The jaws of the flame-trolls are ghastly pits, and just what foulness lurked in the one that
gnawed you I cannot tell. Of course you were not the only one bitten – Mandric and Lunja both need tending – but the fang that pierced your leg went especially deep. You must keep your
eye on that leg for years.’
    ‘If I live to have such problems I’ll be glad,’ said Pazel.
    But his words touched a deeper fear, resting like a stone in the pit of his stomach. ‘Ramachni,’ he said, very low, ‘Neeps is the one I’m worried about.’
    ‘He fears for his Marila, and their child,’ said Bolutu.
    ‘It’s not just that, Bolutu,’ said Pazel, glancing nervously at the rest of the party. ‘It’s the mind-plague.’
    Bolutu started. ‘
Jathod
, I smelled it! The sharp smell of his sweat, like lemon peel. I had forgotten what it was like.’
    ‘For Rin’s sake, don’t tell anyone,’ said Pazel. ‘Thasha knows, but no one else does. Not even Neeps has guessed.’
    ‘I know of his condition,’ said Ramachni. ‘We can discuss it further after you sleep.’
    ‘Can you cure him?’
    Ramachni sighed. ‘Pazel, your friend is succumbing to one of the most powerful spells ever cast in Alifros. It has already destroyed the minds of every human south of the Ruling Sea. The
spell’s caster herself proved powerless to stop it. Before I try to do what my mistress could not, I must have help. You know where I hope to find that help, I think.’
    Pazel glanced at Thasha. He took a deep breath. ‘I know,’ he said, ‘but you’ve made a mistake. There isn’t going to be any help from Erithusmé.’
    ‘We shall see,’ said Ramachni gently.
    ‘I don’t think you understand,’ said Pazel. ‘It didn’t work, she hasn’t come back. Thasha is still just Thasha.’
    ‘She was never
just
Thasha, my lad,’ said Ramachni. ‘And now I must insist that you
sleep
.’
    The last word was like a finger snuffing a flame. Pazel barely had time to lay his head on the stone before sleep engulfed him, blissful and profound. In the stillness of the clearing he dreamed
of a typhoon, and the
Chathrand
running north again, racing on madcap winds, chasing or giving chase. The whole crew was reunited, the dead and the living alike, and Captain Rose was on his
quarterdeck, raging and gesturing, shouting orders, cursing ghosts. Pazel stood in the lashing rain, and Thasha was near him, her eyes bright as sparks, her pale skin luminous, as on the night