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When Jalan dared to look up later-he didn't know how long it had been, but the fire beside him had burned down to coals-the thing in the ash-gray cloak was gone. The wolves were no more than lurking shadows in the near darkness, and the pale-skinned men were nowhere in sight.

Jalan hugged his throbbing hand to his chest and fell into the only peace he knew-sleep.

* * * * *

Just shy of the hilltop Lendri crouched naked in the grass and waited. Mingan was off with the rest of the pack not too far away. Lendri had been running as a wolf most of the night, but he wanted this opportunity to talk to the belkagen and the language of wolves had no words for this conversation.

After the confrontation that morning, Lendri's father had not only ordered all but a few of the hunters of his pack north, he'd sent scouts out to the other packs. In his wildest expectations, Lendri had hoped his father would send his own pack to help them. Haerul had not only done that, he'd called for every pack of Vil Adanrath within a hundred leagues to gather at the Mother's Bed as well. Lendri had seen his father angry many times, had even seem him truly furious once. But this… the omah nin seemed almost fey.

Lendri heard the rustle in the grass of another wolf coming up behind him. He didn't turn, but a few moments later the belkagen came forward and crouched beside him. He followed Lendri's gaze. The Vil Adanrath were spread out in the lands below them, rushing northward like a fire in the grass. They'd run all day and into the night, stopping only for enough rest to keep them from dying. Lendri had promised to meet Gyaidun at the Mother's Bed in three days.

"Why?" Lendri asked.

"I knew you'd need help," said the belkagen. "Your father is one of the greatest omah nin I have ever known, but his honor is surpassed only by his pride. I knew you'd need the weight of my testimony."

"You knew that two days ago when you all but begged Gyaidun and me to forsake this hunt."

"I said from the beginning that I would help rescue the wizard's son. With guile and cunning, we may get away with him. But you and your rathla, you do not seek to save the boy. You seek vengeance."

"You've given us no reason to think we can't have both."

"This foe is beyond any of you," said the belkagen, and his voice sounded old and tired. "Together, you and I may have succeeded in rousing all our people to lead them to their deaths. You know that, don't you? If we survive, will you be able to live with that burden?"

"Death is part of life, the end of even the most cunning hunter. Our people know this."

"To accept death is not to seek it."

Lendri turned to face the belkagen and gave him a hard look. "Better to die fighting for one of our own than spend the rest of our lives with our tails between our legs."

The belkagen snorted and looked away. "You sound like your rathla."

"I take that as an honor."

Silence built between them before the belkagen spoke again. "Gyaidun is one of the greatest men I have ever known. But he is still a man. He is not Vil Adanrath. Like all his people, his flame burns hot and bright, but it is not long for this world. His courage lacks the wisdom of our years."

"Better to die a flame than live as ashes."

The belkagen flinched, and for the briefest moment Lendri saw genuine fear in his eyes. No, not fear. This was colder. Dread.

"What is it, holy one? You hide something in your heart, something that eats at you."

The belkagen looked away, his eyes gazing northward, but Lendri could see that he was looking elsewhere. A long howl drifted out of the north-Mingan inquiring why his brother had stopped. The pack was moving on. Still, Lendri waited.

"Hro'nyewachu," said the belkagen, his voice scarcely more than a harsh whisper.

"The Heart of the Piercing?" said Lendri.

The belkagen nodded. "To become belkagen, one must brave the Heart. It is the source of my power. But not without a price. For all the blessings Hro'nyewachu gave me, some days I would give them all back to