Into the fire

Chapter 39

Eight days later, when the host was finally ready to depart the environs of H?l's Crucible, the waters of the Avagon Sea yet rushed in through the gap where the shield wall once had been, but its thunder had abated, diminishing throughout the days as the great rift had begun to fill. And here nigh the place where once had stood a wall, Tip and Beau, Rynna and Linnet, gazed down from above.

"Lor', but I never thought I'd ever look upon the making of a new sea," said Beau. "What do you think they'll call it?"

"H?l's Ocean, I shouldn't wonder," replied Tipperton, pointing, where erupting upward came a blast of water, driven by an explosion far below.

"Farrin says the Utruni are going to calm the land," said Rynna, "working far below in the living stone to bring it all to rest. That's what they do, you know."

"There is fire down there, molten rock," came a gravelly voice from behind. It was Bekki. "The Stone Giants will be hard-pressed to work in a place little different from the bowels of a firemountain, a deadly dangerous place to be."

"Not anywhere I'd like to hang my hat," said Beau, hugging Linnet close.

"I came to say it is time to go," said Bekki.

Tip looked at Rynna and Linnet, then said, "We'll be right along."

Bekki nodded and turned and walked back toward the campsite.

Tip took a deep breath. "Well?"

Linnet nodded, then stepped to the rim and looked out on the forming sea. "Good-bye, Dinly. Good-bye, Nix." Linnet turned to look at the nearby cairn, but one among thousands. "Good-bye, Farly. May Elwydd hold you three in Her hand along with Alver, too."

Rynna, her shoulder healed by Mage Letha, stepped to the lip of what was once H?l's Crucible, and she held Tip-perton's bow, a red-shafted arrow fitted to string. Tipperton stepped up beside her, and he struck a lantern-striker to the woven red collar below the arrow head, and when it flared to life, Rynna drew the shaft to the full and let the arrow fly. Up it arced and up, loosed by an Elven bow, a phosphorescent streak running up through the clear dawn sky; far out above the waters it sailed, finally to arc over and down and down, to plunge at last into the dark flux of the inflowing sea.

"Good-bye, Alver and Dinly and Nix and Farly," she said, weeping. "We will hold you ever in our hearts."

Choking back tears, Tipperton and Beau stepped to their dammias, and taking them by the hand, slowly they trudged toward the host.

They fared back through the craggy hills and over the Dragonboat bridge. And when all the host had crossed over, the bridge was dismantled.

They rode to Caer Pendwyr in a fleet of Dragonships, did the wee Warrows, along with many of the captains and kings, along with DelfLords and corons and chieftains and other warleaders.

Many more would come by the great Gothonian ships, while still others rode northerly and away, away toward Jord and Riamon and Mineholt North. Still even more fared westerly, striking for the Greatwood and Darda Ery-nian and Darda Galion and Kraggen-cor and Arden Vale beyond, or striking for Pellar and Valon and Jugo and Hoven. But many waited in the port of Adeo, waited for ships to come and take them to Tugal and Vancha and Basq, to Gelen and Gothon, some to sail to ports along the Ryngar Arm of the Weston Ocean, where they would disembark for Trellinath and Wellen, Dalara and Thol, or to ride through these lands to the Jillian Tors and Rian.

But Tip and Rynna and Beau and Linnet rode away in a Jutlander Dragonship, leaving H?l's Crucible behind. Yet though they quitted the place itself, they could not escape its terrible memories; these they bore with them and away.

And down the Ironwater and into the deep blue of the Avagon Sea they rode, sailing south for three days to turn west. Four days later, seven in all after setting sail, they disembarked at the harbor of Pendwyr in Hile Bay, there below the High King's caer.

The city welcomed them with joy.

Uncomfortably, Tipperton turned about so that Rynna could see the fit of his new satin clothes, a deep sapphire blue to match his eyes, white ruffles and trimmings all 'round.

"Oh, but you look splendid, Tip," said Rynna, she herself clothed in a muted yellow gown, white ribbons crisscrossing her bodice.

Tipperton sighed.

"Come, now," said Linnet, "it can't be all that bad."

"It'll be right fun, if you ask me," said Beau, clothed in satin as well-brown with tan ruffles and trim. "We've done this before, you know, attended another ceremony that is, there in the city of Dendor."

His fists on his hips, Tip turned to Beau. "Right fun? Beau, if I remember correctly we were crawling about on the floor."

"Crawling about on the floor?" Linnet turned to Beau.

"Ah, well, hem, love, we couldn't see, you see, and we were trying to get to a place-"

"How undignified," said Linnet, the dammen gowned in brown, tan cording about her waist.

Tipperton laughed; Rynna, too. Beau looked at Linnet and grinned foolishly, and she broke into giggles.

Somewhere in the distance a gong sounded.

Tip drew in a deep breath and said, "Might as well get this over with."

Rynna slipped her arm through his, and likewise did Linnet take Beau's, and together they left their quarters in the High King's castle and stepped into the hall beyond.

On their way through the labyrinthine passages, they were joined by Bekki and Loric and Phais, and on they strode amicably, chatting of inconsequential things, Bekki growling that it all was a bother, Tipperton clearly agreeing. At last they came to the great throne chamber, and it was filled with hundreds of people, the conversation a babbling roar. Yet when the majordomo hammered his stave to the marble floor and announced "Sir Tipperton Thistledown and Lady Rynna," and, "Sir Beau Darby and Lady Linnet," a hush came over the assembly. And when the War-rows stepped forward to come down into the hall, someone began to applaud, and then so did they all… and a cheering broke out, and the four wee ones were swept into the whirl of the crowd, lords and ladies pressing 'round, all talking at once.

Buccan and damman, they did their best to answer the questions put to them:

Yes, a village up along the Rissanin, a village now destroyed.

Silverroot and gwynthyme in equal proportions.

Yes, true gemstones. No no, their eyes, not ours.

Oh yes, it is a splendid city.

Mage Imongar at Dendor is the one who actually slew it.

From the Boskydells and the Wilderland.

One, a daughter. Her name is Lark.

A miller in Twoforks.

Yes, indeed, it was my Beau's words which reminded Tipperton of the tale of a giant and the fly on the wall, a wall broken by the giant, bringing ruin. And so Tipperton simply asked the Utruni to do the same.

Madam, I assure you, I am a full-grown Warrow and not an Elvenchild.

No, it was completely destroyed.

A Gjeenian penny: small and round with a hole in it.

It's nearly all filled with water now, a brand-new sea.

We met at Caer Lindor.

I don't see how he could have escaped; his body was never found…

Buccan and dammen were greatly relieved when the majordomo hammered the floor and announced, "My lords and ladies, and honored guests, the Lord High King Blaine."

The crowd parted and pushed back to form a central aisle, and the Warrows found themselves off to one side and pressed all 'round by tall people.

"Barn rats," hissed Beau, "here we are again, Tip, unable to see a thing."

Linnet grabbed Beau's hand and said, "Well, you're not going to crawl about like a barn rat yourself just to get a peek."

As Blaine advanced down the aisle toward the distant throne, all men dropped to one knee as he passed, while the women curtseyed. Elves and Baeron bowed and Dwarves clenched right fists at their chests while canting their heads forward, and still the Warrows couldn't see.

And when the High King passed by their own general location, lords knelt and ladies curtseyed, and Beau and Tipperton dropped to one knee, while Rynna and Linnet curtseyed down.

Finally Blaine reached the dais and stepped up to his throne, and Lord Steward Voren, bearing scrolls, took station below and to the right.

King Blaine did not take his throne but stood at the edge of the dais instead, and he spoke unto the hushed crowd:

"We have come through a time of great darkness, a time when it seemed all was lost, yet in the end we did prevail, but not without great sacrifice. Many were those who died in this war, many sorely wounded as well, and we must honor those who gave so much, up to and including their all. And even though now is the time of celebration, for Adon has prevailed, still we must keep in mind the loved ones who will no longer stand beside us or answer to our call. Cherish those memories well, my friends, for, as I was told by a small trusted friend, as long as they are remembered they will live on in our hearts."

The King fell silent, and among the assembly there were muffled sobs, and down in the crowd Tipperton and Rynna and Linnet and Beau hugged one another and wept.

But then the King called out for a cheer, for the war was ended at last, and three huzzahs rose up in the chamber to ring the marble dome above.

Many were honored that evening-from the common born to nobility, from peasant to warrior to chieftain to king to DelfLord to coron-Humans, Dwarves, Baeron, Elves… and finally Warrows.

When Tipperton and Rynna and Beau and Linnet were finally called to come forth, at last the gathering parted and the Wee Folk stepped forward. When they finally stood on the dais before the King, he smiled at them and then said to the crowd, "These four were the key to the victory; without them all would have been lost, and Gyphon would now rule the Planes. Without them Mithgar would now be crushed under the heel of Modru. Yet Gyphon does not rule the Planes, nor does Modru rule this world, for these four conceived the plan which swept the foe away."

Now Blaine looked again at the four and said, "I have given away lands and titles and honors fitting the deeds done, yet I cannot conceive of anything in all of my power to bestow which would properly reward you for that which you did, for the whole of Mithgar, the whole of creation, owes you a debt none can ever repay. Yet this will I grant if it is within my power: name you your own reward, be it lands, titles, castles, riches, whatever it is you desire."

There was an indrawn gasp from all in the hall, for never had they heard of such a boon, and then a quietness descended, so utterly still that waves in the ocean far below could be heard through the very thick stone castle walls.

Beau shrugged and turned to Linnet, and she looked to Rynna. But Rynna stepped to Tipperton and whispered, "Name it, my love."

Tipperton looked out over the sea of faces, all folk waiting with bated breath, and finally he turned to High King Blaine and said, "There is but a single thing I would ask, my lord, and I ask it for all Warrowkind, and it is this: I would that we Warrows be excused from kneeling, for we are too short to see aught of pageantry when we are on our knees, especially when among or behind folk larger than ourselves. And if you would, a place up front would be nice, for when Big Folk stand before us, again we cannot see, kneeling, standing, or not."

Dead silence yet filled the hall, for had they heard rightly? The Warrow had requested virtually nought, the whole kingdom at his beck? And then the High King laughed, and called out, "Done and done." And as the King's laughter was echoed by all within, Tipperton embraced Rynna and winked at Beau.

Then Blaine raised his hands and when quietness fell, he said, "Let the word spread across the lands that I do here and now decree that for services rendered, never again shall any Warrow kneel in the presence of kings, queens, emperors, DelfLords, corons, chieftains, lords, ladies, dukes, earls, barons, or aught else of so-called royalty. Nought but a slight bow or curtsey will entirely suffice. Too, let the Wee Folk be given places of honor, where they may see and be seen."

Blaine glanced from lord to lady, coron to chieftain, king to queen, and when his eye swept across the Dwarves, Bekki stepped forward and proclaimed, "So you have said; so shall it be," and a shout of affirmation rose up from all.

Blaine then turned to Tipperton, and Lord Steward Voren stepped to the dais and handed the High King a small packet. And from it Blaine took a small pewter coin on a thong through a hole in its center. He signalled Tipperton to step forward, and he placed the dull token over Tipperton's head and about his neck and said, "Should there ever be a need, send this coin and I will come in all haste with all the force at my command."

With tears in his eyes, Tipperton looked up at Blaine and said, "My lord, should you ever have the need, send such a coin to us, and we will do the same."

Now there came a call for a speech, and Tipperton looked to the other Warrows. Linnet smiled and Beau said, "They want to hear from you, bucco. Go on, tell 'em, Tip."

Tipperton looked at Rynna, and her eyes glistened as she nodded.

And he turned to the gathering, and a hush fell over them all. And then he said, "The King has told you of the terrible cost of the war-lost comrades, lost friends, lost brothers and cousins and fathers and mothers and daughters and sons." Tipperton held the pewter coin between finger and thumb and looked down at it on its thong, and then he looked up at the faces of the lords and ladies and honored guests waiting and said, "Know this, my friends: freedom is not free, for in times of darkness, in the fires of war, freedom is forged of iron, iron oft quenched by the blood of the innocent, a terrible price to pay. Yet to let evil rule is even more costly. No, my friends, freedom is not free, so cherish it and know its true value, for it is paid for by the highest coin of all."

Tipperton fell silent, and a hush filled the air. And then Bekki stepped forward and dropped to one knee and cried, "Chakka atnonu, Tipperton Thistledown, ko ka ska!"

And the hall rang with cheers.

Two days later in the dawn, Tipperton and Rynna and Beau and Linnet rode out from Caer Pendwyr, a string of pack animals behind, Darda Erynian their goal. It was the sixth of February; four years ago on this very same day, Tip and Beau had set out from Twoforks bearing a coin toward an unknown end, and as Tipperton said to High King Blaine, "It just seems fitting that on this day we should start for home, our mission finally done." And so they rode away.

But they did not ride alone, for with them fared a cavalcade of others, heroes all, Phais and Loric and Bekki not the least of these. Men and Baeron and Dwarves and Lian and Dylvana all rode with the Warrows, each and every one heading for northerly homes: Kings Ranor and Loden; Chieftains Urel and Durul, DelfLord Volki, Corons Eiron and Ruar, and Prince Brandt and Hrosmarshal Linde, Vail and Arylin and Riatha and Talar, Talarin and Gildor and Vanidor and Vanidar and Aravan, and many others as well. And a crowd cheered as they rode through the streets of Caer Pendwyr and beyond, their loudest huzzahs for the Wee Folk riding in the midst. Out from the city they went, following Pendwyr Road, finally to depart that tradeway and strike out northerly.

And as they rode, King Loden laughed aloud, and when Beau asked, Loden said, "Lord Bekki just now apologized for cheating me of my king's justice."

"Apologized?"

"Aye. For killing Lord Tain at H?l's Crucible."

"Bekki slew the surrogate?"

"Split him with a thrown axe."

Rynna sighed and murmured to Tipperton, "I felt sorry for Lord Tain, mad as he was, for he knew nought of his role."

Tipperton nodded in agreement, but then shuddered, the memory of Jolet in his mind. He reached for his lute and said to Rynna, "What say we have a happy tune and drive these phantoms away."

A month and twelve days did they ride through snow and rain and sunny days warm and chill ere coming unto the wreck of Caer Lindor, sitting in ruins on its isle in the flow of the River Rissanin. And here came the parting of ways:

Coron Eiron, Vanidar Silverleaf, Riatha, Talar, Aravan, and other Lian turned west for Darda Galion. West as well rode DelfLord Volki and a cadre of Chakka, all heading for Kraggen-cor in the Grimwalls beyond.

Kings Ranor and Loden, Prince Brandt, and DelfLord Bekki and their retinues turned northeasterly to follow the river through the Greatwood and to the open wold, aiming for Jord and Riamon and Mineholt North. And with them fared Linde, the Warrior Maiden now acknowledged as King Ranor's only daughter, issue of an unsanctioned love. And she rode beside King Loden of Dael, a marriage-sealed alliance between Jord and Riamon perhaps in the offing, though the Warrior Maiden, free to choose, had neither said yea nor nay.

Turning back south to head for The Clearing went Chieftain Urel and a handful of Baeron, for they had guided all through the Greatwood to the Caer Lindor ruins.

Across the Rissanin and into Darda Erynian rode Chieftain Durul and Coron Ruar and Dara Vail and other Dyl-vana, along with Talarin of Arden Vale and Arylin, Aris, Gildor and Vanidor, Elissan, Jaith, and Loric and Phais. And with them rode Tipperton and Rynna and Beau and Linnet, all now heading for the holding of the Springwa-ter Warrows.

But ere they went their own separate ways, DelfLord Bekki spoke softly unto Dara Phais, yet what he said was known only by them.

Crying out good-byes and farewells and wishing good fortunes to all, the small alliance parted, vowing one day to see one another again.

And away to the four winds they rode.

In midmorn of Springday, into the Springwater holding they came, Warrows calling out in gladness as among the withy-woven dwellings they fared.

With Lark in her arms Melli rushed out from her bower. "Oh, you're back, you're back," she joyfully cried. "Linnet, Rynna, Beau, Tipperton, Nix…" Melli frowned and looked among the Dylvana and Baeron and Lian and back down the trail, seeking her beloved son Nix. With dread in her eyes she looked up at Linnet, who broke out in tears, and so too did Melli weep, and Lark, wee Lark, yet in Melli's arms, began crying as well.

In the last week of April and accompanied by Fox Riders, Tipperton, Rynna, Lark, Melli, Beau, and Linnet set forth for Bircehyll, where Loric and Phais and Talar and a small contingent of Arden Vale Lian awaited them, for the Warrows would go onward to Twoforks, and Talar would see them safely there.

As to the Warrows of Springwater, those Wee Folk set out eastward on the very same day to return to their burnt hamlet nigh the headwaters of the Rissanin, vowing to rebuild their village come what may.

In early mid-June, the Warrows and their escort came to the western bound of Darda Erynian at the verge of the Landover Road. There they bade good-bye to Tynvyr and Picyn and Kell and Nia and Phero, the Pysks who had fared north with them. And accompanied by the Elves of Arden Vale, the Warrows rode on, crossing the River Argon at Landover Road Ford and onto the wold beyond.

To the eastern foot of Crestan Pass came Warrows and Lian, and to Beau's and Tipperton's delight, one of the Baeron toll keepers was Lady Bwen. And she heartily greeted the Warrows and fed all a whopping meal, and they talked long into the night of things shared, of hardships and joys and griefs.

They spent the next night at the peak of the pass, cold even though it was June. And the next day and the day after, down the western side they fared. But the following day, under the waterfall they rode and into Arden Vale, where they were greeted at the Lone Eld Tree by Dara Alaria, Captain of the South Ardenward.

It was Summerday when they reached the Elvenholt in Arden Vale, and joy greeted them, and sadness, too, for many would never again celebrate the turn of the seasons.

Long did the Warrows spend in the Hidden Stand, Tip and Beau renewing old acquaintances, Rynna, Linnet, Melli, and Lark making acquaintances new. And Lark was fawned over incessantly, the tot grinning at the notice and babbling away in a polyglot of Sylva and Fey and Common and a tongue none knew but which sounded as a rustle of leaves.

And Tip and Beau spoke to Rael and told her the meaning of the rede she had uttered so long ago.

Yet at last in early autumn they once again set out for Twoforks. And with them rode an armed and armored cavalcade of Lian, for although Tip and Beau had once travelled alone across the breadth of Dhruousdarda, this time they would ride with a formidable escort, through that dangerous and dreadful wood.

Not even Lark took pleasure in the travel through Drear-wood, for it was a tangled place of dark and dismal dread.

It was the dark of the moon when in late October they came unto Twoforks, where they found nought but ruin and old char, the entire village burned, weeds growing in the streets. No one came to greet them but the autumn wind.

"The Horde we saw that night long past, the Horde marching west through Drearwood," said Beau, "they did this. I wonder if any here had warning."

Tip shook his head, not knowing.

Loric came riding back among the wrack, Phais coming after, the other Elves yet searching. "We find no sign of survivors," said the Alor, "though there are scattered remains of those long dead."

"We will see they are given burial," added Phais.

Tip looked about, tears in his eyes. And then he said, "The eld dammen. I wonder…"

But when they came to the mill, it was burned as well.

Only the great buhrstones yet remained, lying among ashes long dead.

Then Tipperton gazed northwesterly toward Beacontor and said, "Here it all began."

Beau shook his head. "No, Tip, for Linnet and Rynna it began in Springwater; for Bekki it began in Dael; for Phais and Loric, in the fringes of Drearwood; for others it began elsewhere. But it really began in a glade on Adonar, in a debate between Gyphon and Adon."

"Perhaps," said Tip, "it began before that, with the very creation itself, either that or with a sneeze in the Boskydells."

Beau laughed and said, "It is all connected, you know."

Rynna took a deep breath and let it out. "What will we do now?"

Tipperton shrugged, but Beau said, "We will go to my place in the Boskydells, that's what."

Tip looked from Beau to Rynna, Lark held in her arms, and he looked at Melli and Linnet, and seeing no objection from any he said, "Lead away, Beau. There's nothing for us here."

Over the next five days west they fared, to the Crossland Road and west. Past Beacontor they went, where the balefire had burned so very long ago. Along the southern flank of the Weiunwood they rode, Lark speaking to the trees now clothed in their autumn foliage, her voice a shssh'mg call. Past Bogland Bottoms and on into Stonehill they went, where the citizens of that town were amazed to see a cavalcade of Elvenfolk escorting, it seemed, six insignificant Warrows.

They stayed that night and the next one as well in the White Unicorn, a large inn in the center of town. And on each of those nights Elves sang, but so, too, did Tipperton and Rynna, he playing his Elven lute, she her pennywhistle, and their songs were greeted with cheer, for the inn was filled to overflowing with folk who had come to listen.

The following morning the cavalcade rode out through the west gate of Stonehill, leaving behind puzzled citizenry wondering just what these Warrows might have done to deserve such a magnificent escort.

Southwesterly they turned, faring down the Crossland Road and along the southern flank of the Battle Downs, so named for the battle fought here where the High King and his host were victorious even though sorely outnumbered by the Horde of Foul Folk they faced. And they rode at a leisurely pace through the October days, the road now clasped within the Edgewood among leaves turned red and gold and russet in the crisp fall air.

In the early morning of the fourth day after leaving Stonehill, they saw ahead a great dark mass rearing up into the sky. It was the remarkable Spindlethorn Barrier, a formidable wall surrounding the Bosky entire. Befanged it was and dense, atangle with great spiked thorns, long and sharp and iron hard, living stilettoes, and even birds found it difficult to manage among its nigh impenetrable, interwoven branches. High it was, rearing up thirty, forty, and in some places fifty feet above the river valleys from which it sprang. Wide it was, reaching across broad river vales, no less than a mile anywhere, and in places greater than ten. And long it was, stretching completely around the Boskydells, from the Northwood down the River Spindle, and from the Updunes down the River Wenden, until the two rivers joined one another; but after their joining, no farther south did the Thorn grow. It was said that only the soil of the Bosky in these two river valleys would nourish the barrier, yet the Warrows had managed to cultivate a long stretch of it, reaching from the headwaters of the Spindle in the Northwood across to the headwaters of the Wenden in the Updunes, completing the Thornring entire. As to why it did not grow across the rest of the land and push all else aside remained a mystery; though the granddams said, It's Adon's will, while the granthers said, It's the soil, and neither knew the which of it for certain. There were only five ways through the barrier, passages like tunnels through the thorns: Spindle Ford in the northeast, The Bridge in the east, Tine Ford in the southeast, and Wenden Ford in the west, and the little-used northern tunnel through the ring there where the Northwood stood. In times of troubles these ways were stoppered with massive thorn barricades, plugging the passages as would corks plug bottles. Only recently had word come that the war was ended, and the ways now stood open for any and all to pass through.

The cavalcade fared toward the eastern way.

But when they came to the barrier, the Elves stopped, Talarin saying, "We have brought ye safely to the land of the Waerlinga, yet we would not cause a stir by riding within. Hence we bid ye farewell here at the eastern gate."

And though the Warrows protested, Talarin would not be swayed, saying such a force of Elves entering would no doubt cause alarm, even if but temporarily. Even so, Talarin did promise that a time would come when by twos or threes Lian would visit.

And so, Phais and Loric embraced the Warrows and kissed them each good-bye, as did Aris and Elissan and Jaith. And when Phais came to Tip and Beau, tears running down their faces, tears in her eyes as well, she whispered, "Good-bye, my wee friends. Ye shall be in my thoughts forever." It was not until the Lian had ridden away that Tip realized just what she had said, "… in my thoughts forever," and she was an Elf.

Drawing pack ponies behind, into the thorn tunnel they rode, sunlight filtering down through the scarlet leaves overhead, Lark calling out, "Ssshh, ssshh." Two miles they rode ere emerging from the wall, coming unto a wooden span set upon stone piers and bridging the River Spindle. They stopped and looked down at the water flowing below and the slash of sky overhead, and then they clattered on across and into the Spindlethorn tunnel beyond.

Three more miles they rode within, but at last they emerged into the sunlight at the far side. The countryside lying before them was one of rolling farmland, and the road they followed ran on to the west, cresting a rise to disappear only to be seen again topping the crest beyond.

"We've arrived," said Beau joyfully. Expansively he flourished his hand in a wide sweep and inhaled a great draught of air, reveling in the smell of the land: forest and field and clean-running streams and fertile soil above all. "This, my friends, is the Boskydells, the best place in all the world."

It was the last day of October, with a high blue sky overhead.

On they rode and in the evening they came to the village of Greenfields, and after an enquiry, they put up in the Happy Otter Inn, for the eld buccan they had asked said it brewed the best beer in all of Eastdell, which immediately started a quarrel with another eld buccan who favored the brew at the Green Frog, west aways in Tillok. Leaving the two eld buccen disputing one another, they rode to the western edge of town where the Happy Otter stood, Gorth Cotter, proprietor.

The beer was splendid.

The next morning on they continued west along the Crossland Road, reaching the town of Raffin and riding a bit beyond, to turn down a long dirt lane and come at last to Aunt Rose's farm, for although she was years passed away, Beau yet thought of this stead as the farm of his Aunt Rose.

The place was quite grown over in weeds and such, having been unlived in for several years now, and the house itself quite weathered; a small goat shed out back leaned precariously, all but ready to fall. Yet the apple trees were quite hale and burgeoning with crop, and the soil of the fields was fertile-dark.

Beau looked at the others and said, "With a bit of painting and yard and field work and other such, well, that should fix it right up."

On a chill day in November, Tip swung the scythe and sliced through another swath of dried weeds, while Beau raked the cuttings into a great pile. And as he raked, weed dust and dried pollen flew, and of a sudden Beau inhaled sharply and then loudly sneezed.

Tipperton paused and looked at the sky and so very soberly said, "Careful, Beau, you just might destroy the moon."

As Lark sat in the yard, her ear pressed to the trunk of an apple tree and her eyes wide as if hearing some twiggy secret, and as Melli rattled about in the kitchen, Linnet and Rynna sat on the porch, each sipping a good hot cup of tea. And they looked at one another and wondered why their buccarans, along the fence line, were laughing like a pair of loons.