is Timozel,” he whispered, “and I do not want to be here.” Unfortunately, unconsciousness did
not save him from the nightmare this time.
Raum fetched a bundle from the trees and unwrapped it to share some of his food with
the others. Although Faraday recognised some of the berries and fruits that he offered her, the
piece of flat bread that she ate tasted unusual, although not unpleasant. ―What is it made from?‖
she asked.
―It is malfari bread, made not from the grains that you grow on the plains, but from a
fibrous tuber we gather in the Avarinheim called malfari. We crush it and dry it and then bake it
with herbs and cheese into flat bread. During winter it is the mainstay of our diet.‖
―The Avarinheim?‖ Faraday asked puzzled. Shra, her black eyes trusting, tottered over to
her and curled up in her lap. Faraday stroked the child‘s head, but repeated her question. ―What
is the Avarinheim?‖
Jack smiled at the Bane in apology. ―Bane, we have had no time nor the opportunity to
tell her anything. We have only just found her ourselves. Could you perhaps explain a little about
your people, and particularly about yourself and the child and why you are here?‖
―Shra and I are of the Avar people.‖ Raum‘s mouth twisted in a bitter smile. ―One of the
two races you call the Forbidden. We live in the Avarinheim, the great forest that stretches from
the Icescarp Alps to the Fortress Ranges—where your ancestors penned us a thousand years ago
in the Wars of the Axe.‖ Faraday‘s face brightened with embarrassment for her people, but she held Raum‘s eyes in a steady gaze. ―You know the Avarinheim as the Shadowsward, and your
Brotherhood of the Seneschal have taught your people to hate and fear it and all those who live
within it.‖
Raum looked about the valley of the Fernbrake Lake, beginning to darken in the dusk
light. ―Here there stand a few remaining remnants of the Avarinheim, and I am told that there
still stands a wood around Cauldron Lake.‖ Jack nodded in confirmation. ―Those are the last
remaining stands of trees that once belonged to the Greater Avarinheim which stretched from the
Icescarp Alps to Widewall Bay and from the Widowmaker Sea to River Nordra. You and yours
have killed much of our home, Faraday of Skarabost.‖
―Over these last few weeks I have learned that the past has many different interpretations,
Raum,‖ she said a little dryly.
Raum continued. ―The Avar are a peaceful people, Faraday. We live in as great a
harmony with the land as we can—unlike your race, which desecrates and scars and rapes the
land for what it can give you, and yet give nothing back. Your Way of the Plough is an
abomination, Faraday.‖
―Enough, Raum,‖ Yr said softly. ―Poor Faraday has not the shoulders to carry the guilt
for her entire race.‖
Raum inclined his head at the Sentinel, but his eyes glinted with anger. ―Sometimes,
Sentinel Yr, it is hard for us to watch the land we loved and cared for carved up into barrenness
under the dreadful ploughshare.‖ He turned back to Faraday and moderated his tone somewhat.
―We live in harmony with the land,‖ he repeated, ―and with the seasons. We do not try to change
or to warp, but to assist both land and seasons as best we can. Of all living things we revere the
trees most of all. For us the forest, the Avarinheim, is a living being and we treasure it as we do
our own families. Our most sacred rituals are those designed to assist the turn of the seasons and
the regeneration of the land and forest. Some among us have the ability to become Banes, or
mages, and it is our duty to care for the forest with an even greater dedication than most Avar,
and to conduct the rites of land and season.‖
―And those children you think might have the ability to serve as Banes you put to the test
when very young?‖ Faraday‘s tone was hard enough to leave no-one in doubt about what she
thought about putting children through such a frightful experience.
―Faraday, life is sometimes cruel. We grieve for those children who are lost, for every
one of them is precious to us. But without Banes to conduct the rites, the rites would lapse, and
then the seasons would falter and the land would die.‖
―But why so young?‖ Faraday asked. ―Shra cannot be above three.‖
―It is vital that we bring those children who have passed the test to the Mother to be
presented while they are very young, otherwise their talents will not grow as they should.‖
―Why do you call this lake the Mother, Raum?‖
Raum smiled and looked out over the lake. ―Because it is said that life originated within
this lake. For us, it is very magical. It is the beginning of a Bane‘s true life.‖
For a long time no-one said anything. But then Faraday frowned. ―Raum? How do you
get here? Do you come across the Seagrass Plains of Skarabost?‖
Raum nodded. ―Every year or so we try to bring several children out to bathe them in the
waters of the Mother. But we must travel at night and move as stealthily as we can. We avoid
contact with humans. Skarabost is a sparsely populated region and most people remain inside
after dark. We are helped in this by a woman of your race who lives with the Icarii. Some years
she comes down to help us bring the children through. Because she is of your race she can travel openly with a well-cloaked child or two and attract little comment.‖ He shrugged. ―But it is hard.
And we have not been able to bring as many children to the Mother as we would have liked. In
the best of times we have hardly enough Banes to conduct the rites, but, now, as the seasons
begin to fail around us and the land dies underneath its unnatural cover of snow and ice, we do
not have the number of Banes to even attempt to halt the rot. Over the past few years, as the
danger from the north has grown, we have tried to bring as many children through as we
can…but it is hard, it is very hard.‖
Faraday opened her mouth to ask about the woman who lived with the Icarii, but Jack‘s
voice leaped in before she had a chance to speak. ―Bane, what do you mean? What has been
happening in the Avarinheim?‖
―Over the past two years, particularly this past year, the Skraeling wraiths from the
northern wastes have been wandering in everincreasing numbers along the border of the
Avarinheim. They do not trouble us much because they still remain afraid of the trees, but it is
worrying nevertheless. And, as you can see, the weather dies around us. There has been talk
among us and the Icarii that the Prophecy of the Destroyer has awoken; none of us want to
believe it…but,‖ despair shone from his eyes, ―your presence and words tell me that Gorgrael
has indeed been born and that even now he prepares to spread his hatred southward. Tell me, if
you can, have you found the StarMan? Will he save us?‖
Again Faraday opened her mouth, but Jack silenced her with a hard look. ―He still lies
trapped within the lies that bind, Bane Raum, and it will be many long seasons before he can ride
to Tencendor‘s defence. All we can do is trust in the wisdom of the Prophecy.‖
―I fear that the Skraelings, driven by Gorgrael, will launch their major attack through the
north of Ichtar this winter, Raum,‖ Yr said quietly. ―I doubt if the Acharites alone will stop them.
Do you think the Icarii will help?‖
Raum massaged his forehead. For a moment Faraday thought she could see two tiny
knobs of bone glistening within his hair, but then thought she must have been deceived by the
low light.
―Would the Acharites accept their help, Sentinel? Or would they slaughter the Winged
Ones before they had a chance to assist?‖ Raum said finally.
His words made Faraday wonder if perhaps she might have more than one role to play in
Gorkenfort.
Timozel stood, riveted with fear. “My name is Timozel,” he whispered, “and I do not
want to be here.” He closed his eyes as tight as he could, relieved that at least his eyelids still
obeyed his conscious thought. He did not want to see what it was that stepped out from behind
the door. “Timozel,” the disgusting voice said slowly, as if its tongue had trouble with such a
multi-syllabled word. “You are a pretty boy. What magical path did you walk to find me,
Timozel?” Timozel did not know what the voice was talking about; all he did know was that he
dared not open his eyes. He wondered if he was going to be killed as he stood there. “Timozel.