time, Stresa moved out to where he could keep watch, mutter-
ing something about being the only one left who was fit for the
job. Wren didn’t argue the point; she was half-inclined to agree.
The light faded steadily from silver to gray to black. The forest
was transformed, suddenly alive with movement as the need for
food brought its creatures forth to hunt, but nothing that went
abroad made any attempt to approach their refuge. Mist seeped
through the trees and grasses in lazy tendrils. Water dripped
softly from the leaves. Faun squirmed in Wren’s arms, burrow-
ing deep into her shoulder.
At midnight, Killeshan erupted. Fire belched out in a shower
of sparks and flaming debris, and ash and smoke spewed forth.
The sound it made was terrifying, a booming that shattered the
night stillness and brought everyone awake with a start. The
initial explosion turned quickly to a series of rumbles that built
one upon the other until the entire island was shaking. Even
from as far away as they were, the eruption was visible, a deep
red glow against the black that lifted skyward and seemed to
hang there. Close at hand, the earth split in small rents and
steam rose in geysers, hissing and burning. In the shadows be-
yond, the island’s creatures raced wildly about, fleeing without
direction or purpose, frightened by the intensity of the tremors,
by the sound and the glare. The company huddled back against
the koa, fighting the urge to join them. But flight in such black-
ness was dangerous, Wren knew, and Stresa was quick to remind
her that they must stay put until daylight. –
The eruptions continued all night long, one after the other,
a series of thundering coughs and fiery convulsions that threat-
ened to rend Morrowindl from end to end. Fires burned high
on Killeshan’s slopes as lava flows began their descent to the
sea. Cliffs slid away in a roar of broken stone, avalanches that
tore free whole mountainsides. Giant trees snapped at their cen-
ters and tumbled to the earth.
Wren closed her eyes and tried unsuccessfully to sleep.
Toward dawn, Stresa rose to scout the area leading out and
Triss took the Splinterscat’s place at watch. Wren was left alone
with Garth. The big man slept fitfully, his face bathed in sweat,
his body wracked with convulsions. He was running a fever,
and the heat of his body was palpable. As she watched him twist
and turn against his discomfort, she found herself thinking of all
they had been through together. She had worried about him
before, but never as much as now. In part, her concern was
magnified by her sense of helplessness. Morrowindl remained a
foreign world to her, and her knowledge of it was too little. She
could not help thinking that there must be something more that
she could do for her big friend if she only knew what. She was
reminded of Ellenroh, stricken by a fever similar to Garth’s, a
fever that none of them had understood. She had lost her grand-
mother; she did not intend to lose her best friend. She reassured
herself over and over that Garth was strong, that he possessed
great endurance. He could survive anything; he always had.
It was growing light, and she had just closed her eyes against
her fatigue and depression when the big man surprised her by
touching her gently on the arm. When she lifted her head to
look at him, he began to sign.
I want you to do something for me.
She nodded, and her fingers repeated her words. “What?”
It will be difficult for you, but it is necessary.
She tried to see his eyes and couldn’t. He was turned too
far into the shadows.
I want you to forgive me.
“Forgive you for what?”
I have lied to you about something. I have lied repeatedly. Ever since I
have known you.
She shook her head, confused, anxious, weary to the bone.
“Lied about what?”
His gaze never faltered. About your parents. About your mother
and father. I knew them. I knew who they were and where they came from.
I knew everything.