All three of the others blinked. At last the old woman said, “You have changed, young man.”
Hanse nodded. “We endured much. We even accomplished much, up in Firaqa.”
“Firaqa?”
“A city far north. Strange people with a strange religion. Ruled by a sort of council of sorcerers. The chief was also the most evil and I sup- pose the most powerful. He’s dead, now. Teretaff, Termagant . . . Mignureal’s powers soared, in Firaqa. She was glad to find a small colony of S’danzo. They were unwelcome in Firaqa; S’danzo, I mean. That’s no longer true. She . . . Mignureal has remained there, Teretaff. She’s an accomplished Seer, now, an amoushem. Did I say that right?”
“Yes!” the Termagant said, astonishing Hanse by the sudden happy light in her eyes. “So! She flowered, then, and is respected, with the Ability.”
“Yes. She Sees, Termagant, Teretaff; Mignue Sees beyond anyone else in Firaqa.”
“She will do well there, then,” Teretaff said, with some happiness and pride mingled with sadness. Tears had appeared in the walnut eyes of the girl beside the old woman, to hear that her sister was not coming back. “But-you are here and she there?”
Hanse nodded. “It was not easy. Oh, we had our troubles-probably mainly because we were under the shadow of sorcery all the time. But I think we will always love each other. It’s just that I had to come back, and she felt she had to remain there. She is happy there. Established.”
“I am glad for her,” Jileel said but her voice quavered and she sniffed.
‘I am delighted'” the Termagant said, and again she astonished Hanse, by proving that grim mouth could smile.