‘No one is to venture beyond the camp unaccompanied! I don’t care if there aren’t enough axes! Use whatever implements you can find! Use swords if you have to! Yes, build it here, where the light will be of the best effect. And another there! What? Well, if it’s too close, then move the other wagon!’
‘. . .Lore? Spells? Don’t blame me if we haven’t such things! The King and that passel of sycophants he surrounds himself with, ask them! Yes, I have brought my pharmacopoeia! But this matter is beyond the realm of medicine! Or are you deaf to those voices that surround our camp?’
In the midst of this confusion, something, a mote of clarity, of unflagging certainty, seemed to settle upon Malina’s soul, like the eye of calm at the center of a storm. Rani, sensing something, looking up at the Pixie woman’s tearstained visage, caught her faraway look; and somehow, in that same moment, she too knew what had to be done.
Unnoticed, hand in hand, as in a dream they left the wagon and began walking, away from the fires and from the light, until at last they stood alone in the night. All around them were shadows and whispers, the faint glint of eyes reflecting the firelight.