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happened. A great sadness lurked just out of his reach. He was in no hurry to bring it closer.
    What had been the thin sound of voices in the distance became a raucous shouting. Legs moved past him; the night seemed suddenly full of movement. There was a rush and sizzle of steam as someone threw a pail of water into the flames of what had been Camaris’ tent.
    A few moments later he felt Aditu’s strong hands under his arms. “You will be trampled, brave marsh man,” she said into his ear, then pulled him farther away from the conflagration, into the cool darkness beside some tents untouched by the blaze. She left him there, then returned shortly with a water skin. The Sitha pressed it against his cracked lips until he understood what it was, then left him to drink—which he did, greedily.
    A dark shadow loomed, then abruptly sank down beside him. It was Camaris. His silvery hair, like Aditu‘s, was scorched and blackened. Haunted eyes stared from his ash-smeared face. Tiamak handed him the water skin, then prodded him until he lifted it to his lips.
    “God have mercy on us ...” Camaris croaked. He stared dazedly at the spreading fires and the shouting mob that was trying to douse them.
    Aditu returned and sat down beside them. When Camaris offered her the water skin, she took it from him and downed a single swallow before handing it back.
    “Geloë... ?” Tiamak asked.
    Aditu shook her head. “Dying. She has gone away.”
    “Who ...” It was still hard to speak. Tiamak almost did not want to, but he suddenly felt a desire to know, to have some reasons with which to balance off the terrible events. He also needed something—words if nothing . else—to fill the emptiness inside of him. He took the skin bag from Camaris and moistened his throat. “Who was it...?”
    “The Hikeda‘ya,” she said, watching the efforts to quell the flames. “The Norns. That was Utuk’ku’s long arm that reached out tonight.”
    “I ... I tried to ... to call for help. But I couldn’t.”
    Aditu nodded. “Kei-vishaa. It is a sort of poison that floats on the wind. It kills the voice for a time, and also brings sleep.” She looked at Camaris, who had leaned back against the tent wall that sheltered them. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed. “I do not know how he stood against it for the time he did. If he had not, we would have been too late. Geloë’s sacrifice would have been for nothing.” She turned to the Wrannaman. “You, too, Tiamak. Things would have been different without your aid: you found Camaris’ sword. Also, the fire frightened them. They knew they did not have much time, and that made them careless. Otherwise, I think we would all be there still.” She indicated the burning tent.
    Geloë’s sacrifice. Tiamak found his eyes filling with tears. They stung.
    She Who Waits to Take All Back, he prayed desperately, do not let her drift by!
    He covered his face with his hands. He did not want to think any more.

    Josua ran faster. When Isgrimnur caught him at last, the prince had already stopped to make sure that the fires were being mastered. The original blaze had spread only a little way, catching perhaps a half-dozen other tents at most, and all but some in the first tent had escaped. Sangfugol was one of them. He stood, clothed only in a long shirt, and blearily watched the proceedings.
    After assuring himself that everything possible was being done, Isgrimnur followed Josua to Camaris and the other two survivors, the Sitha-woman and little Tiamak, who were resting nearby. They were all bloodied and singed, but Isgrimnur felt sure after looking them over quickly that they would all live.
    “Ah, praise merciful Aedon that you escaped, Sir Camaris,” said Josua, kneeling at the side of the old knight. “I feared rightly that it might be your tent when we first saw the blaze.” He turned to Aditu, who seemed to have her wits about her, which could not quite be said of Camaris and the marsh man.