"Seeds," she said evasively. "Put them in your mouth, Kirin, and tell me you aren't feeling brighter in a very short while."
He knew they couldn't help him. "And if you're wrong?"
She gave a flick of her dark hair. "You can have your wicked way with me. That's how confident I am!"
Kirin blushed and Lily looked away, suddenly embarrassed.
The soldier they had spoken to earlier in the journey approached slowly on his horse. "As you can gather, we're stopping here."
"Why are the Vested so...depressed?" Lily asked. Kirin glared at her.
The soldier fortunately didn't notice the look between them. He shrugged. "Tired, I imagine. They've traveled without stopping twice as far as you have. Anyway, we plan that you will both be seen first."
Kirin returned the man's gaze, forcing an innocent, quizzical expression. "Why the hurry?"
The man appeared equally innocent. "I know you're here because we insisted you accompany us. It's only fair we deal with you quickly and get you on your way."
"And my wife," Kirin stressed.
"Yes, of course, both of you," the soldier replied. "It's tiring, I know, but I am happy to escort you immediately to the authorities."
"Authorities?"
"A single person," the soldier qualified. "His name is Master Vulpan."
Kirin had expected this but even so the mention of the man's name made his belly clench. Vulpan was the reason Freath and he had rushed north. He wondered if Freath had found Faris. He hadn't even asked Lily whether Leonel lived. He almost laughed at his own apathy. He'd been so furious at being entrapped by these men that he'd forgotten what this whole struggle was about.
"Fine," he said, finding a tight smile. "If he's up at this time of the morning, then lead the way. Come, my love. Let's get this all cleared up, shall we?"
Lily grasped his mood, it seemed. She returned the adoring glance and nodded to the two men who permitted her to move ahead of them.
"We're aiming for that pale building over on the right," their companion said.
Kirin sucked on his seeds, hardly daring to believe the nausea might be disappearing, and feeling a fresh thrill of fear at what Vulpan was going to make of him and his Vested "wife" of no magic.
Pandemonium raged in the village of Green Herbery. A barn filled with bales of hay and stores for the winter had gone up in flames, threatening various houses and Herbery's only inn. Even from this distance Piven could see it would be impossible to get the fire under control. People would have to watch their livelihoods go up in smoke and their homes burned to the ground. As he drew closer he could see it was not just buildings and provisions at stake.
Women were screaming. Piven began to run.
Dawn was waking to an unpleasantness; the orange of the flames and their dirty gray smoke were a blot on the otherwise picturesque setting. Now he could hear the ferocity of the fire as new flames erupted and a shower of sparks exploded from somewhere in the barn. Villagers stood by helplessly holding dripping buckets and vessels, contents long ago exhausted and useless against such a force. New flames began to lick around the sides of the barn, the older flames already arching further afield for fresh tinder.
"Help them!" screamed one of the women.
Piven ran headlong into the crowd, which was suddenly still, no doubt feeling the dread of the situation. He pushed his way forward to where a sobbing woman sat by an unconscious man. In the man's arms was a child, also unconscious it seemed, possibly even dead. It was a boy, Piven thought. People tried to loosen the man's grip on the child but to no avail and the woman, lost in her despair, screamed at them to leave him alone, while still beseeching someone for help.
Both man and boy were badly injured. Clothes were partly burned off, skin was scorched and the smell of cooked flesh permeated the otherwise crisp early morning air. People had begun to retch and the injured man, still holding the child, had begun trembling as the initial shock wore off and was replaced by pain. It was a tremble that would accompany him to his death, Piven believed; death was not so far away now.
"He ran in to save young Roddy," a bystander said. "Now they're both dying."
"Don't say that!" the mother screeched, looking around wildly. "Don't you dare!" she repeated before dissolving into helpless sobs as she bent over her son, her head resting on