girl! Come back out of death to find me, come back to spit in
my face, to prove you could do it after all! Shades, you must
be tough as nails!”
She was too happy to see him to disagree.
HE HURRIED THEM atop Spirit then-but only after a sharp
glance at Stresa and a pointed warning to the Splinterscat that
he had best keep his quills to himself. Muttering something about
Wren’s choice of traveling companions, he wrapped the Splin-
terscat in a leather coverlet and boosted him up. Although Stresa
remained still and compliant, his eyes darted anxiously. Wren
bound Faun to her back, mounted Spirit, and pulled a semicon-
scious Triss up in front of her where she could hold him in
place. Her hands full, she jammed the Ruhk Staff beneath her
legs in the harness. They worked swiftly, Tiger Ty and she,
chased by the snarls and growls that rose from the darkness of
the trees, driven by their fear of the things hidden there. Twice
black forms darted from the shadows as if to attack, but each
time Spirit’s angry shriek sent them scrambling away again.
It seemed to take them forever, but finally they were settled.
With a quick last check of the harness straps, Tiger Ty sprang
atop the Roc.
“Up, now, old bird!” he yelled urgently.
With a final cry, Spirit spread his great wings and lifted
away. A handful of demons broke cover, racing to catch them
in a last desperate effort, flinging themselves across the bluff.
Several caught hold of the Roc’s feathers, dragging the great bird
down. But Spirit shook himself, twisted and raked wildly with
his claws, and the attackers fell away into the dark. As the Roc
swept out over the Blue Divide and began to rise, Wren glanced
back a final time. Morrowindl was a furnace glowing against the
night, all mist and steam and ash, Killeshan’s mouth spitting out
streams of molted rock, rivers of fire running to the sea.
She closed her eyes and did not look back again.
She was never sure how long they flew that night. It might
have been hours; it might have been only minutes. She clung
to Triss and the restraining straps as she fought to stay awake,
exhausted to the point of senselessness. Faun’s arms were
wrapped about her neck, warm and furry, and she could feel
the Tree Squeak’s worried breath against her neck. Somewhere
behind, Stresa rode in silence. She heard Tiger Ty call back to
her once or twice, but his words were lost in the wind, and she
did not bother to try to answer. A vision of Morrowindl in those
last minutes floated spectrally before her eyes, harsh and un-
yielding, a nightmare that would never recede into sleep.
When they landed, whatever time had passed, it was still
night, but the sky was clear and bright about her. Spirit settled
down on a small atoll green with vegetation. The sweet smell of
flowers wafted on the air. Wren breathed the scents gratefully
as she slid down the Roc’s broad back, reaching up in numb
response for Triss and then Stresa. Imagine, she thought diz-
zily-a moon and stars, a night bright with their light, no mist
or haze, no fire.
“This way, over here, girl,” Tiger Ty advised gently, taking
her arm.
He led her to a patch of soft grass where she lay down and
instantly fell asleep.
The sun was red against the horizon when she woke again,
a scarlet sphere rising from the ocean’s crimson-colored waters
into skies black with thunderheads. The storm and its fire
seemed settled in a single patch of earth and sky. She raised
herself on her elbow and peered at the strange phenomenon,
wondering how it could be.
Then Tiger Ty, keeping watch at her side, whispered, “Go
back to sleep, Miss Wren. It’s still night. That’s Morrowindl out
there, all afire, burning up from the inside out. Killeshan’s let
go with everything. Won’t be anything left soon, I’d guess.”
She did go back to sleep, and when she woke again it was
midday, the sun sitting high in a cloudless blue expanse over-