The charred earth crunched under their horses” hoofs. The glance that Toc the Younger threw back over his shoulder was received with a grim nod from Captain Paran. They were nearing the source of last night's column of fire.

As Toc had promised, leaving the city had proved a simple matter, none accosted them, and the gates had been left ajar. Their horses were indeed Wickan-bred, lean and long-limbed; and though their ears flattened and eyes rolled they held to the discipline of their reins.

The still midday air was heavy with the stench of sulphur, and already a fine coat of ash covered the two riders and their horses. Overhead the sun was a bright copper orb. Toc stopped his mount and waited for the captain to arrive.

Paran wiped grimy sweat from his brow and adjusted his helmet.

camail felt heavy on his shoulders as he squinted ahead. They were heading towards the place where the pillar of fire had come from. The night just past had been one of deep fear for Paran: neither he nor Toc had ever witnessed such a conflagration of sorcery. Though they had camped leagues away they had felt the heat pouring from it. Now, as they approached, all Paran could feel was dread.

Neither he nor Toc spoke. Perhaps a hundred yards eastward r something that looked like a misshapen tree stump, one gnarled, blackened branch reaching skyward. In a perfect circle around it the grass sward was untouched for perhaps five yards. A dark smudge lay in the unburned area, slightly off to one side.

Paran nudged his mount forward and Toc followed after unslinging and stringing his bow. As Toc caught up with the captain, Paran saw that his companion had nocked an arrow.

The closer they approached the less like a tree the charred thing looked. The limb that reached out from it had familiar lines. Paran's gaze narrowed some more, then he cursed and spurred his horse. He closed the distance quickly, leaving behind a startled Toc.

Arriving, he dismounted and strode up to what he now saw were two bodies, one gigantic. Both had been burned beyond recognition, but Paran held no illusions as to who the other was. All that come close to me, all that I care for: “Tattersail,” he whispered, then fell to his knees.

Toc joined him, but remained in the saddle, standing in the stirrups and scanning the horizon. A minute later he dismounted and walked a slow circle around the embracing bodies, stopping at the dark smudge they'd seen from a distance. He crouched to study it.

Paran raised his head and struggled to keep his eyes on the figures. The limb belonged to the giant. The fire that had consumed them both had blackened the arm for most of its length, but its hand was only slightly scorched. Paran stared at the grasping fingers and wondered what salvation the giant had reached for in its moment of death. The freedom that is death, a freedom denied me. Damn the gods, damn them all.

Numbed, he was slow to realize that Toc called to him.

It was an effort to rise to his feet. He staggered to where Toc still crouched. On the ground before the man was a torn burlap sack.

“Tracks lead from this,” Toc said shakily, a strange expression on his face. He scratched vigorously at his scar, then rose. “Heading north-east.”

Paran looked at his companion without comprehension. “Tracks?”

“Small, like a child's. Only. .”

“Only what?” The man hugged himself. “Those feet were mostly bones.” He met the captain's blank stare. “As if the soles were gone, rotted or burned away-I don't know: Something horrible has happened here, Captain. I'm glad it's heading away, whatever it is.”

Paran turned back to the two entwined figures. He flinched. One hand reached up to touch his face. “That's Tattersail,” he said, in a flat voice.

“I know. I'm sorry. The other one is the Thelomen High Mage Bellurdan. It has to be.” Toc looked down at the burlap sack. “He took leave to come out here and bury Nightchill.” He added quietly, “I don't think Nightchill needs burying any more.”

“Tayschrenn did this,” Paran said.

Something in the captain's voice brought Toc round.

“Tayschrenn. And the Adjunct. Tattersail was right. They would not have killed her otherwise. Only she didn't die easily, she never took the easy path in anything.

“Lorn's taken her from me, just like she's tak everything else.”

“Captain:”

Paran's hand unconsciously gripped the pommel of his sword. “The heartless bitch has a lot coming to her, and I mean to deliver it.”

“Fine,” Toc growled. “Just let's be smart about it.”

Paran glared at him, “Let's get going, Toc the Younger.”