Makarria sat huddled up against the cavern wall with Taera's head in her lap, awaiting Caile's return. He had left the two of them in the cavern at the south end of Issborg to go fetch water from the lake, and Taera had immediately fallen into a fitful sleep. Her face was swollen and the blood on her face had dried into a black crust around her nose and mouth. Makarria, for her own part, found herself nauseous and overcome with an empty feeling inside her like a great sorrow. Part of it was a sense lethargy from having transformed the wooden spoon into a dagger, she knew, but the sense of loss she could not explain except from having been so scared by what happened with Roanna and Kadar. Her cheek stung where Roanna had slapped her, and poor Taera had faired much worse. The sight of her face made Makarria want to cry. Makarria closed her eyes, fighting away tears and wishing everything could just go back to the way it was before, when she was back with her parents on their farm. She could barely picture her parents' faces anymore. For that matter, she could barely picture her grandfather's. The thought of him left behind on Pyrthin's Flame pained her. She desperately hoped he had somehow escaped the burning ship.

"Is everything alright?" Caile asked, startling her.

"Fine, yes," Makarria said, rubbing the tears from her eyes.

Caile knelt down and handed her a waterskin to drink from, then turned his attention to Taera. He had dampened a cloth in the lake and he used it now to wipe the blood from her face. She moaned but did not wake.

"Kadar was beating her," Makarria said. "He would have killed her, but Roanna set him on fire."

"Roanna saved her?"

Makarria nodded. "She's mean but not as mean as Kadar. He's got black teeth."

Caile frowned at the thought but said nothing. He rinsed the blood from his cloth with water from the skin and continued to clean up Taera the best he could. When he was done, he sat down beside Makarria and sighed.

"How is it that you came to be captured with my sister?" he asked.

"I was stranded at sea, and your sister rescued me," Makarria said, and she told him how she had been rescued along with Parmo by Pyrthin's Flame, only to be taken away with Taera by Roanna on the airship a few days later. It felt good to talk to someone and speak her grandfather's name. She said nothing about the prophecy or Taera's visions however.

"Roanna has a flying ship?" Caile asked. "Are you sure you didn't just dream it up?"

Makarria laughed at the irony in his question. "Technically, Siegbjorn is the captain of the airship."

Caile thought her laugh odd but wrote it off to fatigue and delirium. She's little more than a kid, he realized now that he got a chance to look at her up close. Her arms were skinny but well-muscled, and the way she had walked into the town hall holding up his sister, he mistook her to be much older than she was. She had seemed very much an adult the way she carried herself. She was very pretty but younger than Caile by several years at least, by his estimation.

Makarria blushed under his prolonged gaze.

"Sorry," Caile said, realizing he was staring. "I just thought that... I mean—"

Taera gasped and woke with a start, cutting Caile short. "No!" she cried out. She pushed herself upright, panic on her face.

Caile grabbed her hands. "Taera. It's me, Caile. Everything is alright. You were just having a nightmare."

Taera took a deep breath and grimaced at the throbbing pain in her face. "Not a nightmare," she said. "A vision. Two visions at the same time. In one, Kadar stands over our bodies, and Issborg is destroyed. Ice falls from above and crushes the houses, crushes everyone, and Kadar is laughing. In the other, Makarria is standing there, and the city is safe. Kadar is swept away into darkness. I see both visions on top of each other. I don't understand. They can't both be true."

"It's a choice," Makarria said.

Taera's eyes refocused as she heard Makarria's words. "Yes, I think you're right, but what do I do? What choice must I make?"

"It's not your choice," Makarria said. "It's mine." She couldn't explain it, but when Taera had described the visions, Makarria could see them in her mind too. Two contradicting visions. The choice was simple enough. If Makarria did nothing, Kadar would kill them all and destroy Issborg. Makarria didn't know how she could stop Kadar, but she knew she couldn't stand by and do nothing. The people of Issborg had helped her and Taera. They were Siegbjorn's kin and friends. She would not let Kadar kill them. Kadar is swept away into darkness... Makarria repeated Taera's words in her mind. She could see Taera's vision. An impenetrable curved wall surrounded Kadar, and the light receded around him. Panic overcame him, and he scratched at the walls. Makarria knew the feeling. It was the same sense of dread she felt being trapped in her stone chamber day after day. That was it, she realized. She knew what she had to do.

"I have to go help the Snjaer Firan," Makarria said, standing.

"No, you can't," Taera said. "Kadar will do horrible things to you."

"It's alright. I know what to do."

"Hold on, what do you mean you know what to do?" Caile started to say, but Makarria ignored him and sprinted off back toward the city before the words were halfway out of his mouth. "Get back here!" Caile yelled, but Makarria paid him no heed.

Taera watched her leave. Her heart ached, but she too knew Makarria was right. The visions represented a choice, and that choice was Makarri's to make. "Go with her," she told Caile. "Do whatever you can to keep her safe. She's the one."

"What do you mean, the one?" Caile asked, exasperated that he never seemed to know what was going on.

"The one prophesied to kill the Emperor."

"What? I thought that was you."

"No, Caile. It's her. Go!"

Caile snatched up his weapons with a curse and ran off in the direction of Issborg. At the edge of the city, he caught sight of Makarria nearly halfway to the other side—the only movement in the entire city. The Snjaer Firan were hidden away in their homes and had closed the shutters over every window. Only the blue daylight protruding through the glacier illuminated the city. Damn it all, she's fast, Caile swore inwardly as he chased after Makarria. When he finally caught up to her at the far end of city he grabbed her shoulder and dragged her to a halt, heavily winded.

"Stop. Wait!"

Makarria pushed his hand aside and trotted on. "Please don't try to stop me."

"I'm not here to stop you. I'm here to help. Now just slow down for moment and tell me what it is you think you're going to do that two sorceresses can't."

"What two sorceresses?" Makarria asked, glancing back at him.

"You said Roanna tried to kill Kadar. And now Talitha is going after him."

"Talitha is a sorceress, too?"

"Of course. She's the one who saved me when Roanna tried to kill me in Col Sargoth."

"I didn't know that," Makarria said. "But it doesn't make a difference. It wasn't Roanna and it wasn't Talitha in your sister's vision. It was me."

"Fine, but you still haven't told me what it is you mean to do."

They were getting close to the chambers now and Makarria slowed to a brisk walk. "I need to get Kadar into one of the chambers."

"Alright, that's a start. What chambers?"

"A few hundred yards down the corridor on the right, there's a bunch of caves with doors."

"Does it matter which one we get him into?"

"No."

"Alright," he said again. "And what do we do after that?"

"Then I do my work. Quiet now. We're getting close."

Caile bristled at being shushed. "Slow down then," he whispered. "We don't want to rush headlong into something if Talitha and Kadar are fighting. Or Roanna."

As if on cue, a heavy concussion echoed through the cavern.

"I've heard that sound before," Caile whispered. "That's sorcerers fighting." He left his sword sheathed and instead strung his bow and notched an arrow, remembering what Talitha had told him about trying to kill sorcerers. Surprise them. Be unpredictable.

The sound of concussions and bellowing flames grew louder and more frequent as they continued on, and before long they could hear voices, although, they could not make out the words. Talitha's indecipherable shouts were little more than guttural moans, while Kadar's heavily accented words were taunting in their tone. They heard nothing from Roanna. Suddenly, dark figures appeared before them, and Caile almost let loose his arrow but luckily held it back at the last moment, realizing it was the Snjaer Firan warriors who had accompanied Talitha. There were only four of them, and they all huddled close to the wall at their right.

"We're here to help," Makarria whispered when one of them turned back to see her and Caile approaching. It was the man who had been guarding her room. "Where's Kadar?"

"Up there," the man said with effort, and Makarria and Caile saw that he was badly burned on one side of his face. "Talitha is trapped on the far side, below the glacier."

"What about Roanna?" Caile asked.

The warrior spoke to the other men in their tongue, and they all shook their head. "We saw no sign of her," the man said. "She must be dead."

"Where's the rest of your men?" Caile asked. "I thought there were twelve of you?"

"There were."

Caile pursed his lips and pushed his way forward past the four men to peer farther down the corridor. A torrent of flames spat forward in the distance, and for a brief moment Caile could make out Talitha's form huddled behind a stalagmite twenty yards ahead and Kadar a little farther beyond her. Then the flames were gone and he saw only shadows again. Caile stepped back safely out of sight. "He's got her cornered, and he's too far away for me to get a clean look at him," he whispered to Makarria. "How is it you think we're going to get him into one of those caves?"

"I'll get him into the open," Makarria said. "When I yell, start shooting."

"I don't see how—" Caile started to say, but before he could get the rest of the sentence out Makarria strode forward into the middle of the corridor.

"Kadar!" Makarria yelled. "Kadar! It's me, Makarria. Stop, please."

"Makarria, no, get back," Talitha's voice rang out.

Makarria ignored her and walked on, fear in her belly. He won't risk killing you—you're too important to him, she told herself, but now that she was exposed, she wasn't so certain.

Kadar peered out from his hiding spot and began laughing an oily, rodent-like laugh. "It is alright, Makarria. Yes, come to me. I would not hurt you."

"Leave the woman alone," Makarria said. "And then you can have me." She stopped parallel to the first of the caves on the right. She saw in front of her the smoldering bodies of the other Snjaer Firan warriors but quickly averted her eyes and kept her attention solely on Kadar.

"But I can kill her and still take you," Kadar said.

"Not if I'm in the way, you can't," Makarria retorted, and she stepped forward to place herself firmly in the path between the two sorcerers. "Go," she said, looking back toward Talitha.

"Are you mad?" Talitha hissed. "You'll be killed."

"Just go," Makarria told her. "Trust me."

In the distance, Kadar laughed again. "Go on. Let the little girl save you for now."

"Go," Makarria said again.

Talitha paused for a moment longer, then sprang from behind the stalagmite and scurried back into the cavern behind Makarria toward the others.

"My end of the bargain is met now," Kadar said. "Now it is your turn. Come to me."

"I'm right here. Come get me."

Kadar stepped forward from his hiding spot, and when he spoke there was menace in his voice. "What is it you hope to accomplish, girl? Do you mean to stab me with a wooden knife? Your dream powers are weak and unhoned still. I could burn you to ash or bring that ice crashing down upon your head before you even close your eyes, let alone dream."

"Not if you want me to kill the Emperor, you can't."

Kadar smiled and his black teeth glimmered as he slowly stepped forward. "You are a clever girl. Too clever for your own good."

He was almost upon her now. She waited one breath longer, then turned and sprinted away. "Now!" she screamed.

Caile stepped out into the corridor and loosed his arrow. It whizzed by Makarria's ear, and Kadar leapt to the side, just narrowly dodging the projectile. He raised his hands to strike back, but Makarria had changed her course to run right for Caile, blocking Kadar's line of sight. Caile fired another arrow over the top of Makarria, and this time Kadar had no choice but to jump for cover in the nearest of the chambers.

"He's in!" Caile yelled, notching another arrow.

Makarria skidded to a halt and plopped down on her butt, facing back toward the chamber. "Keep him in there," she said breathlessly and closed her eyes.

"I only have four arrows left—move fast," Caile yelled, but Makarria was already halfway in her trance, and Talitha and her men had jumped to his aid besides.

"What is she doing?" Talitha grunted out as she hurled fire at the doorway.

"I don't know," Caile said as he fired another arrow. "Just keep him trapped in that cave."

Beside Talitha, one of the Snjaer Firan warriors hurled his war hammer at the doorway when Kadar tried to peek his head out. Kadar flung a tight ball of blue flames at the man and ducked back into the cave as the war hammer slammed into the wooden door. The fireball flew true and knocked the Snjaer Firan warrior back onto the ground, where he died with a truncated scream.

Makarria was aware of none of the fighting around her. Her breathing was calm, her thoughts focused. In her mind she envisioned the door to the chamber and closed it.

The door closed with a bang that echoed through the cavern.

Makarria now pictured the living rock around the door frame. She imagined it blending with frame and door. She imagined the rock bleeding into the wood. She imagined the entire door turning to stone, becoming one seamless wall of rock. The same coldness and resistance she felt before washed over her but stronger than before. It was as if she herself was running headlong into a stone wall. But she pushed through it and solidified the image in her mind. Over and over again she pictured the door turning to stone. She clawed her mind through the resistance, she envisioned the door becoming stone. She projected it outward and made it so.

When she opened her eyes, all was silent.

"Did it work? Is the door stone?"

"Yes," Talitha said, stunned.

"Will he be able to get out?" Makarria asked.

"If it were wood, perhaps, or steel even, but you've made it solid stone. He is trapped. He will die, either of starvation or lack of air, whichever comes first."

Makarria pushed aside the knowledge that she had just killed a human being and let out a breath of vast relief. We're safe now, she consoled herself, and slowly all the nervous energy left her body. She felt herself slipping away into unconsciousness but could do nothing to stop it. Caile saw at the last moment as her body began to collapse and jumped forward with a startled yelp to catch her before she hit the hard ground.

~~~

When Makarria awoke, she was lying in a proper bed. She was startled for a moment, not recognizing where she was, but she soon remembered what had happened and realized she must be in one of the stone houses of Issborg. She was in a small square room with a window along one wall through which she could see the glacier above the city. In a chair near the foot of the bed sat Talitha.

"I'm glad to see you're awake," she said. "You've slept a long time."

"Is he dead?" Makarria asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Kadar, I mean."

Talitha nodded. "If not yet, he will be soon. The air in that chamber can't last more than a day or two."

"What about Roanna? I didn't see her anywhere."

"Dead. Kadar must have killed her before I arrived." Talitha grabbed a tray of food from a table near the door and placed it on Makarria's lap. "Here: eat, drink. You need to regain your strength."

Makarria sat up and looked over the food in wonder. Her meals back in the caves had been nothing more than bread, dried meat, and water twice a day. The plate before her now consisted of bread, fresh meat, cheese, and an assortment of berries she had never seen before. She dug into the food like a starved animal. When she finally finished and washed it down with a cupful of honey wine, she laid back content and tired again.

Talitha was not intent on letting her sleep yet though. "What you did yesterday, Makarria, was terribly brave but also terribly foolish," she said.

Makarria knew the truth of it, but she didn't see how she could have done anything differently, and besides, she felt this woman should be saying thank you rather than lecturing her. I did save her life after all.

"You are too important to be risking your life needlessly," Talitha went on when Makarria said nothing.

"There was plenty of need for it," Makarria retorted. "Taera had a vision, and I saw it too. Not only would you have been dead, but the whole city would have been dead too."

"I know. Taera told me what she saw. And don't think I'm ungrateful. It's just that I fear for you. You used yourself as a human shield. You can't go on taking your life so lightly."

"I don't take it lightly," Makarria told her. "It's just, Kadar and Roanna were using Taera and me for so long—because they knew what we could do and they were greedy and wanted to control us—it somehow seemed right to use that same greed against him."

Talitha smiled. "You are more astute than you might know. When people learn you are a dreamwielder, they will go to all ends to control you, to manipulate you, and to tempt you with promises and riches in order to make you do their bidding. And if they know of the prophecy regarding the Emperor, they will have even more reason to manipulate you. Some will try to win you to their side for their own selfish purposes, others—like the Emperor himself—will want you dead. But there are others, like myself and perhaps even Kadar, who understand the fragility and flexibility of prophecy."

"What do you mean?"

Talitha closed her eyes. "What seers see is merely an image of a possible future. Probable, yes, but not definite. Seers absorb the thoughts and feelings of those around them, sometimes of those far away, and in some way their brain translates these into potential events yet to come. They are by no means certain though. A thief might be inclined or predisposed to steal my coin purse as I walk by, but if I foresee this happening and eye him warily, or if a marshal walks within eyesight by happenstance, or if any other random act occurs, that thief might be persuaded to change his course and the prophecy becomes false. Alternatively, a seer might foresee something and try so hard to avert it that he or she actually sets in motion the very sequence of events that make the vision come true—the self-fulfilling prophecy.

"So you may ask yourself, Makarria, are you the one spoken of who is foretold to kill the Emperor? I would answer yes, but I would answer also that this does not mean you will kill him. Yes, the Emperor will try to kill you to preserve his own being, and yes, most of those who hate the Emperor will keep you safe in order to kill him for their own means but not all of them. Prophecies leave much to chance. People are unpredictable, and even those who want something from you might sooner kill you than not get their way. Kadar easily could have done so. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"I don't mean to chastise you," Talitha said, looking kindly upon Makarria. "I just want you to be more careful, that is all."

"What I want," Makarria replied, "is to know what it is you want from me?"

"A fair question. Do you know who I am?"

"I know your name is Talitha. I know you're a sorceress, and you saved Caile. The Snjaer Firan follow your orders for some reason, too."

"Yes, it is because I am their chieftain. I am Trumball's daughter. Like him, I am a follower of Tel Mathir. I have spent my life learning the ways in which all things, both living and dead, are linked to her. Everything in our world is connected, Makarria. It is a world of complex cycles, all interconnected. Understanding how Tel Mathir operates gives me a greater understanding of the power you and I wield. It does not necessarily make me more powerful—indeed, Kadar, who knew nothing of Tel Mathir and little of what he was capable of, nearly slew me—but it does give me greater purpose and makes me better able to teach others.

"I will not lie, Makarria. I too want Guderian gone. He murdered my father, but it is much more than that. Guderian means to rid the world of all magic. He does not realize that magic, too, is one of the many cycles of Tel Mathir. If he succeeds in his goal, he will change the earth irreparably. The link between humans and nature will be gone. He cannot be allowed to succeed. If you choose to face him, I will assist you in whatever way I can. But I will never force you to do anything against your will, for that too would be contrary to the will of Tel Mathir. And the fact of the matter is, Guderian is not invincible. Another could kill him. He could simply catch a cold and die. There are an infinite amount of possibilities. Yours is merely the most probable."

Makarria's head swam with everything Talitha had told her. She was less certain now than she had been before. "Tell me this at least," she asked. "Both Taera and Kadar and now you have said that I am the one from the prophecy. But the prophecy says it's supposed to be a prince or princess, and I'm just a farm girl. I understand what you say, that the final result of a prophecy can be wrong, but how can it be so wrong about such a simple part? I'm not a princess at all."

Talitha smiled. "To answer that question, I think it's best you hear the news your friend Siegbjorn brings."

"Siegbjorn? He's back?"

"Indeed,he returned while you slept, and he has much you must hear."