‘The next thing I remember is Vashnar – his presence all around me. Just as vividly as he was when all this started.’ Thyrn looked at his listeners, easier now that he had embarked on his tale proper. ‘But I didn’t get swept up this time. I centred myself correctly. Took control. Watched, waited. I mightn’t know what’s happening, but this is my territory, I thought. I’m master here and whoever intrudes will be subject to my will.’ At another time this might have sounded like an empty youthful boast, but Thyrn’s manner transformed it into a determined resolution. ‘But it wasn’t like any of the Joinings I’d had with Vashnar – or like any Joining I’ve ever had. It was as though I was there by accident – an inadvertent eavesdropper. Something else – someone else – was Joining with him. I was both there and not there.’
He stopped and brought up his hands to cup his face tightly. They were shaking again. For a moment it seemed that he was going to slip into the fearful despair he had shown before. He looked at Endryk. ‘I’m not sure whether I’m frightened of this because I don’t understand what I felt, or because I do.’
‘You felt what you felt, Thyrn,’ Endryk replied. ‘Whatever it was, it’s not here now, and there’s no danger around this fire.’
‘I’m not too sure about that,’ Thyrn said softly, looking up at the enclosing mountains, hidden by the night and the glow of the fire. As he continued he seemed to be forcing his words out. ‘Vashnar I recognized.’
‘Recognized? You saw him?’ Hyrald exclaimed.
Thyrn frowned and waved the interruption aside. ‘I sensed him. Alone, defensive, hesitant. But though he was the brightest thing there… the centre, the source, of what was happening, there was something else there as well. Something drawn there by him or perhaps by me – I couldn’t tell.’ Suddenly his bared teeth were shining in the firelight and sweat was glistening on his forehead. ‘But it was awful – an abomination. All those visions I had – burning buildings, fleeing people, fighting and bloodshed – they came from deep within Vashnar, but they were nothing compared to this.’ With his foot he nudged a smouldering twig by the fire. ‘Less than this is to one of the big Solstice bonfires – far less. It felt like something that had come from, I don’t know – a different world almost. A different time… a time older than myths and legends, or beyond them.’ He shuddered. ‘Such black consuming hatred. Such lust for destruction and…’ He thought for a moment. ‘For power.’
His eyes widened as he spoke, reflecting the camp fire so that they seemed to be ablaze with the inner vision of what he had seen. He looked at Endryk again. ‘And I understood it. It was human – a person.’ He hesitated. ‘Or perhaps many people – I can’t tell now. It was like many people become one.’ He nodded to himself, unhappy, but satisfied with this conclusion. ‘But I felt the lure of it, like when we brought down that deer. But not so that we could eat – just the killing, the pain, the blood – for its own sake – and revelling in it, wild, completely without restraint.’ He grimaced. ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’
‘Not here you’re not,’ Endryk said, stepping quickly across the fire and dragging him to his feet before the others could move. A few paces into the darkness, Thyrn bent forward and retched. He did not vomit however, and once the spasm had passed, Endryk returned him gently to his place. Adren had used the interval to fetch him a cup of water which he drank noisily.
‘I’m sorry about that,’ he said. ‘It’s just… I feel so ashamed, to take pleasure in such things.’ He shuddered again.
Endryk laid a hand on his shoulder, his expression pained. ‘But you don’t, do you? Not really. Even the idea just made you sick.’
‘But I did. I felt it. It’s inside me.’
‘It’s inside all of us, Thyrn. All you felt was what youcan do… what your body is capable of. What we’re all capable of when need arises.’ He turned Thyrn around and looked at him intently. ‘But always there’s a choice. Nothing compels you. And there are times, which I hope you’ll never come to, when those feelings you describe – horrific though they are – give you that final choice; do you wish to live, or do you wish to die? Don’t confuse the ability to do something with your moral worth.’ He reached down and picked up a branch from the fire. The end was burning vigorously. ‘Fire can keep us warm and comfortable, cook our food, dry our sodden clothing.’ He pushed it back into the fire. ‘And it can burn down houses, fields of precious crops, destroy animals – people.
‘It’s not the same.’
‘It’s exactly the same. It just feels different, that’s all. Just because you’ve learned to make a fire doesn’t mean you’re going to become a fire-raiser, does it? And just because you’ve discovered a dark ability in yourself doesn’t mean you’re suddenly going to run amok slaughtering people for no reason. But maybe…’ He leaned closer to Thyrn. ‘Maybe because you’ve seen this, you might one day be able to kill someone to save your own life.’
Thyrn stared at him, his face riven with doubt and pain.
‘Or someone else’s,’ Endryk concluded significantly. He released Thyrn and sat back. ‘Finish your tale. Can you describe this presence that you felt?’
‘No more than I already have,’ Thyrn replied, his voice unsteady. ‘There were images – sensations – that I’ve no words for. It was terrifying, and it was vast.’ A memory returned to him. ‘Like those birds we saw when we were riding along the shore. Individual birds, but so many they were like smoke in the distance. This was the same, but much bigger – as though birds were filling the entire sky, shrieking and screaming. I sensed a malevolent power trying to unleash itself, to wreak destruction on everything. But something was restraining it. Something about Vashnar.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘It needs him. He’s… a key. Something that will release them.’
‘Them?’
‘Them, him, it – all these things. That’s not important; it’s the extent of it all I can’t convey to you.’ He looked out beyond the fire. ‘I was dwarfed by it far more than I am by these mountains.’ He took several long breaths to calm himself.
‘Are you sure this wasn’t all just a dream?’ Adren asked tentatively. ‘You had a very peculiar experience yesterday.’
‘It was no dream,’ Thyrn said categorically and without any resentment at the question. ‘It was real, and it was part of everything that’s been happening. And it’s only by clinging to you here, for support, that I can keep the real horror of it all at bay.’ He clenched his hands together painfully. ‘It knew I was there,’ he said, his voice cracking. His eyes widened in fear again. ‘It’s me who’s in their way. They’ll have to destroy me to take Vashnar.’ In a desperate flurry, he made to stand up but both Endryk and Nordath restrained him.
‘You’re safe here,’ Endryk said but he had to keep repeating it and he was almost shouting before Thyrn seemed to hear him and became a little calmer. ‘Whatever it was you experienced, it has no power out here.’
Adren, who had been watching Thyrn intently, leaned across to him and echoed Endryk’s words. ‘Whatever it was you experienced, it had no power over you in there, did it?’ she said, emphasizing the last two words with a jabbing finger. ‘It might have frightened you half to death, but if it knew you were there, and you were in its way, why didn’t it do anything?’
Gradually Thyrn’s panic began to slip away and a realization dawned.
‘You’re right,’ he said, half to himself, his eyes becoming shrewd and angry. Endryk and Nordath cautiously released him. Endryk shot Adren a grateful look.
No one spoke for a while, then Thyrn said, ‘I need to think about this again, quietly. Get it clearer in my mind. I’m sorry I disturbed you all.’
‘You’ve nothing to apologize for,’ Endryk said, patting him on the shoulder. ‘Go back to bed. It’s some time to dawn yet. We can talk again in the morning. Things usually seem less intimidating in the daylight.’
‘Don’t say a word,’ Adren said to Rhavvan when Thyrn had returned to his tent.
‘All right, all right, I know,’ Rhavvan blustered. ‘I like the lad as much as you do – he’s grown on me, especially these past few days. But it’s difficult, this Joining business. It makes no sense. It was bad enough accepting the idea that he and Vashnar were somehow in contact in his head, but now we’ve got monsters out of who knows where coming to haunt us.’ He waved his hands helplessly. ‘How can we be sure he’s not just going quietly mad after all?’
‘I suppose we can’t be,’ Hyrald said eventually. ‘He’s young and he’s unusual, and what’s happened of late could push anyone over the edge. But if he is mad, it’s not like any other kind of madness I’ve ever seen, for what that’s worth. We’ve all seen him change from being an irritating burden to becoming one of us – someone we could rely on, someone who pulls his weight. Nordath understands more about being a Caddoran than any of us, so I’m quite prepared to accept his word that Thyrn and Vashnar have become tangled together in some way. But this last business, and him wandering off like he did, meeting little old men that none of us saw, hearing him speak in the night… it’s straining matters for me.’ He gave Nordath an apologetic look.
‘It’s all right,’ Nordath said. ‘I understand how you feel. I don’t know what’s happening either. But I do know that whatever it is, Thyrn believes it absolutely. There was no mistaking his fear when he woke up, or when he was talking to us.’
None of them disputed that.
‘What do you think, Endryk?’ Rhavvan asked, still subdued.
Endryk was staring into the fire. ‘My stomach says, yes, it’s all true. My head says, I don’t know. I told you – I’ve seen such powers used before by men, which were far beyond anything I could begin to explain. And I know that there are old and fearful forces which are ignored or dismissed only at appalling risk – to everyone.’ He looked at Nordath. ‘As you’ve already surmised, it’s because of that that I’m here. I’ve been through my own insanity and I’m loath to condemn Thyrn.’ He tapped a burning log absently with his boot. ‘I think we’ve no choice but to give him the benefit of the doubt – to accept his tale, and support him as much as we can. One way or another it’ll resolve itself.’ Suddenly he bared his teeth and his eyes shone, feral and frightening, in the firelight. ‘One thing’s for sure. If we ignore him, and he’s telling the truth, it’ll be the last mistake we ever make.’
No one spoke, but all eyes were on him. Then, the fearful mask was gone and he stood up, himself again. ‘Anyway, it’s my duty spell now, isn’t it?’ He slapped Rhavvan on the back heartily. ‘Don’t look so glum, Rhavvan. Whether in the end we’re going to face your Vashnar and his thugs, or dragons and wild beasties, we’ve still got tomorrow to get through – food, walking, training.’
The remainder of the night passed off without incident. Rather to his surprise, Nordath found that Thyrn was already asleep when he returned to his tent. He was less fortunate himself and woke the next morning bemoaning the fact that he had ‘only just got off’.
The preliminaries of the day were completed in comparative silence, albeit more strained than usual, and they were sitting eating before Thyrn spoke.
‘I’m sorry about last night, but I was very frightened. Thank you all for helping me.’
This brought a variety of awkward and dismissive mutterings which ended with Rhavvan asking him how he felt now.
‘Still frightened,’ he replied, causing a momentary pause in the meal. ‘But I’ve been going over what happened. Thinking about it.’ He cleared his throat nervously. ‘I’m assuming that I’m not going mad – that something in my Caddoran nature hasn’t gone askew and is leading me astray, as it were. But if that’s so, then I have to say that something far worse is happening than just the Death Cry being proclaimed against us, or whatever it is that Vashnar’s up to with his Tervaidin Wardens.’
His voice was compellingly calm and no one was eating now. He looked up at the surrounding peaks, forbidding and enclosing against an overcast sky. ‘Somewhere, not far from here, I think – there’s a place that’s… significant… in this business. I think I was being drawn to it yesterday. Maybe if the old man hadn’t stopped me, I’d…’ His expression became preoccupied and he paused. ‘I told you I could feel part of Vashnar with me all the time.’ He looked at Rhavvan. ‘I know that’s difficult for you to understand, but it’s so, nevertheless.’ He turned to the others. ‘Now there’s something else. A call. A sign. Voices. Something to draw Vashnar here.’
‘What do you mean?’ Hyrald asked.
Thyrn shrugged. ‘Just that. I can feel it – hear it, if you like. Whatever it was that reached out to Vashnar last night needs him to be closer – physically closer. The call that it left is for him to follow. And he will – even I can feel its compulsion. And it will bring him here.’
‘Here? Right here?’ Hyrald’s finger pointed directly downwards.
Thyrn shook his head. ‘No. Just into these mountains – but somewhere not too far away. As I said, I think perhaps I was being drawn to it myself yesterday.’ He caught Rhavvan’s eye. ‘Don’t you think I know how crazy all this sounds?’ he protested angrily before Rhavvan could say anything. ‘Don’t you think I’d rather we just broke camp and plodded on towards Arvenshelm in the hope that sooner or later I – we – would get a fair hearing in a Warden’s Court, or something; that everything would be seen to be a regrettable misunderstanding; that we’d all be allowed back to our old lives as though nothing had happened?’ Rhavvan made to speak, but Thyrn ploughed on. ‘Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I am going insane. I don’t know. How could I tell? I don’t feel insane. And what I’m sensing, for all it seems to be beyond reason, feels as real as this plate.’
Rhavvan managed to interrupt him as he paused for breath.
He echoed the conclusion that Endryk had offered the previous night. ‘You’re right, it does sound crazy. And more than once I’ve thought you might be crazy yourself. But this whole business has been crazy from the start. And no matter what we all think of one another we’ve no alternative but to stick to Endryk’s advice and work as a team if we’re going to stand any chance of getting out of this. If it’s any help, you might be having crazy thoughts, but you neither look nor sound mad and, like Endryk told you last night, none of us think you are. The least any of us will give you is the benefit of the doubt – innocent until proved guilty, if you like. There’s no denying you were a pain in the beginning, but you’re one of us now.’
His large hands reached and engulfed Thyrn’s.
Adren’s eyebrows rose and she seemed to be weighing a tart response to this bluff admission, though in the end she remained silent. Endryk spoke as Thyrn eventually extricated himself from Rhavvan’s grip.
‘You were going to tell us something else about this call to Vashnar that you heard.’
‘Am hearing,’ Thyrn corrected. He hesitated. ‘Something inside tells me that I should follow this call myself – move towards what seems to be the heart of all this.’
Endryk stared at him uncertainly, then, ‘That’s your judgement, Thyrn. I couldn’t begin to advise you. But we’ve no route planned and if this call takes us south or west, I can’t see why we shouldn’t go wherever you want.’ He looked round at the others, seeking their consent. No one disagreed, though there was concern in all their faces. He voiced it. ‘But don’t forget we’re as bound up in this as you are. You are one of us now. Don’t shut us out. Don’t wander off on your own again. And if anything else strange happens to you, don’t nurse it to yourself… spit it out straight away.’
‘I will,’ Thyrn agreed.
A little later they were trudging towards the rocky head of the valley. Thyrn had wanted to clamber up on the ridge again but Endryk had been unequivocal about not dividing the group. ‘We stay together and we go where the horses can go,’ he insisted. ‘Not every valley’s going to be as bleak as this, I hope, but generally, hunting around here’s not going to be good and, apart from the horses carrying our equipment, if the worst comes to the worst, we can eat them.’
This brought an indignant denial from Adren, which Endryk brushed aside with a curt, ‘You will when you’re hungry.’
Reaching the head of the valley they found themselves overlooking another; wider and less intimidating than the one they had just travelled. Its floor and lower slopes were verdant and lightly wooded, and in the distance they could just make out the glint of a lake.
‘Quite a contrast,’ Hyrald said, glancing back.
Endryk nodded then looked at Thyrn. ‘Which way do you want to go?’ he asked.
After a moment, as if it were being lifted by some external force, Thyrn’s right arm slowly rose. ‘Along this side,’ he said.
‘South-west,’ Endryk confirmed, looking at the pale disc of the sun trying to make its way through the clouds.
Then Thyrn’s arm stiffened. ‘There,’ he said. He was pointing to a distant peak rising solitary above its neighbours. ‘Yes, there, definitely.’
‘We’re not going to reach that today,’ Endryk said. ‘If tomorrow.’ He frowned.
‘What’s the matter?’ Rhavvan asked.
‘Oh, nothing,’ Endryk replied with a shrug. ‘It’s just a sour-looking thing. Grey, dead. Quite different to all the other peaks around here. It reminds me of something but I can’t think what.’
They set off at a leisurely pace. At Endryk’s suggestion they moved down for a while on to the lusher valley floor where they were able to replenish their supplies. Apart from a great many grasses and plant leaves and roots, they also brought down several plump birds, Thyrn actually killing one with his sling, albeit not the one he was aiming at. The others confined themselves to their bows, the Wardens in particular vying strongly with one another for the position of best archer, a competition that Endryk emphatically refused to adjudicate on except in so far as their clamour scattered their prey.
The strange events of the previous day behind them and their immediate destination agreed upon, their mood was good, though, just as the watery sky occasionally darkened and threatened rain, the underlying grimness of their position was never far away from their thoughts.
‘What if we run into more valleys that are like the last one?’ Adren asked edgily. ‘No vegetation, no animals – just rocks.’
Endryk was matter-of-fact. ‘When we’re in places like this, we gather what we can, store it as well as we can, and then we live on it for as long as we can. If we come on hard times, we ration ourselves, then we go short, then we go hungry. But throughout, we keep putting one foot in front of the other. And we don’t burden the present with an unknowable future.’
‘I was only thinking ahead,’ Adren protested indignantly.
‘No, you weren’t. You were beginning to mither, as my mother used to say.’
‘Mither?’
‘Fret, fuss, fume, bite your nails, for nothing.’ This caused Hyrald and Rhavvan some amusement but Adren’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
‘If you’re going to think ahead, then plan properly,’ Endryk continued. ‘Don’t forget, this range isn’t that wide, and a fit, determined person can last a long time without any food at all.’ He turned, and seeing her expression, gave her a provocative look. ‘And, of course, we’ve always got…’ He patted his horse.
‘Stop that!’
It was a command and a menacing finger that had deterred more than one Arvenshelm miscreant from continuing with his misdeeds. Catching the full force of it, Endryk laughed and held up his hands in insincere surrender.
When they stopped to eat, however, Thyrn was unusually sombre. After a few mouthfuls of his meal, he stood up and with an, ‘Excuse me,’ he took a sword from one of the horses, unsheathed it and began performing a basic cutting exercise that, following Endryk’s teaching, Adren had shown him.
The others watched him in silence for some time, their anxiety growing in proportion to his intensity. Eventually, in response to a silent appeal from Nordath, Endryk went over to him. Thyrn turned to face him, the sword in a guard position.
‘What’s wrong?’ Endryk asked.
Thyrn frowned, then said, ‘My distance. If I want to cut you, I’m too close. If I want to lunge, I’m a little too far away.’
Amusement broke through Endryk’s concerned expression, and, chuckling, he shook his head. ‘That’s not what I meant, but you’re quite right – well observed.’ He took a pace back and said, ‘Cut!’ bouncing his hand off the centre of his forehead to indicate the target.
Thyrn craned forward a little, as if not understanding the instruction. Endryk repeated it. ‘Cut, now. Quickly.’
‘But…’
‘Do it! Now!’ Endryk clapped his hands loudly and stamped his foot with a movement that made him seem to be advancing. Thyrn’s sword shot up and, his face screwed into an apologetic and fearful rictus, he stepped forward and swung the sword down alarmingly towards Endryk’s head.
Without any apparent haste, Endryk stepped quietly to one side of the descending blade, looped an arm around Thyrn’s shoulder and placed his other hand on the now lowered sword hilt. As Thyrn made to snatch the sword back, Endryk made a slight movement which arched Thyrn backwards and slipped the sword from his hand. The whole movement was so seemingly casual that it drew spontaneous approval from the bemused watchers.
With the same ease that he had disturbed Thyrn’s balance, Endryk restored it and returned the sword to him.
‘Not bad,’ he said, leading him back towards the others. He looked at him seriously. ‘I’ll teach you what you need to know from now. But remember what we agreed. Don’t keep anything to yourself. What’s the matter? Why this sudden need to put sword practice before food?’ He handed Thyrn his plate and motioned him to sit.
‘I don’t know,’ Thyrn said, picking at his food. ‘It’s very strange. I hadn’t really noticed it until we sat down but there’s something about this call I can feel that is making me think that I’m walking towards a fight of some kind.’ He looked at Endryk. ‘Where would I get a feeling like that from? I’ve never been in a fight in my life.’
‘I wouldn’t hazard a guess,’ Endryk replied. ‘But there’s a high risk that this entire venture will come to blows before it’s finished, you know that. That’s why we’ve been preparing ourselves.’
Thyrn rejected this suggestion unequivocally. ‘No. That, I understood. This is different. It’s as though a part of me I never knew about has suddenly appeared. Something that’s just said, “No – no further”, and has planted its feet in the ground in defiance. It’s there whenever I think about last night. And when I sense this call inside me.’
Endryk looked to Nordath for guidance but received none. Thyrn abruptly seized his arm.
‘Teach me how to fight,’ he said desperately. ‘Teach me what I need to know to be a warrior like you. Please.’
Endryk made a half-hearted effort to free his arm but to no avail. For the first time since they had met him, he seemed to be violently disturbed.
‘I can’t,’ he said, finally freeing himself. ‘Not just like that, in a few days. It takes years. Besides, I’m no warrior. I’d have probably been a saddler like my father if…’ He faltered again. ‘I’m just someone who’s been taught how to fight should he need to. We all were. It was the way of my people – the tradition. We were taught fighting skills and many other things. Not to fight – we had no enemies, as we thought – but to be self-sufficient, independent, self-disciplined, yet still part of an ordered and peaceful society.’
‘Odd way to go about things,’ Adren remarked, almost sneering. ‘Teaching people to fight to keep order on the streets.’
‘You think so?’ Endryk’s manner was challenging. ‘Well, until our trouble came, there was never rioting on the streets. No need for the Cry, still less the Death Cry. No half-witted government oblivious to those who trust it with their authority, and no need for Wardens to maintain order by a mixture of force and corruption.’
Adren went pale and anger drew her face tight in response to this unexpected passion. She was about to retort when Hyrald laid a restraining hand on her arm. Endryk pressed on. He slapped a hand on his chest.
‘The fact is that we’re dangerous and wildly erratic creatures. All of us. More than any other animal you’ll ever meet. And only if you find the violence within yourself and accept it will you stand any chance of controlling it. Deny it, ignore it, and one day, if circumstances let it loose, it’ll control you instead of you it, and you’ll be lost. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen that in others, or felt it in yourself, Warden.’
Hyrald’s restraining hand tightened. ‘We understand, Endryk,’ he said quietly but earnestly. ‘More so than ever, these past weeks. Just go gently.’
Endryk held his gaze for a moment, then his face softened and a look of regret passed over it. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s just… I don’t know. Perhaps I’m more frightened about what’s happening than I’m prepared to admit.’ He took Adren’s hand briefly. She glowered at him. Then, rather self-consciously, he turned back to Thyrn. ‘I apologize to you, too. It was a fair request. I don’t know how I can help, but let’s talk about it, if you still want to.’
‘It’s not a matter of wanting,’ Thyrn said, apparently unaffected by what had just passed. ‘It’s a need.’ He looked at the others then glanced at the distant peak he had designated as their destination. ‘Can we move on?’
His request was accepted with some relief and a small flurry of activity helped to ease the tension pervading the group. The horses well rested, they decided to ride for a while.
‘Tell me what you want, what you need, as clearly as you can,’ Endryk said to Thyrn, when they were under way.
Thyrn’s face darkened. ‘I don’t really know. All the things you’ve shown me have been great fun. I’ve enjoyed it, like a game – though I see the value of it,’ he added hastily. ‘And even though I can’t envisage being able to stab someone, or shoot an arrow through them, I still feel easier in myself knowing it’s an option I have. But this is different. This thing that I felt drawing Vashnar last night, seems to have woken something inside me. Thinking about fighting Vashnar, man to man, makes me tremble.’ He gave Endryk a significant look. ‘I know – you’d say to avoid a fight whenever possible. But, as I said before, this feeling inside me is reaching out to oppose this thing. It’s telling me that running away isn’t an option for me. I don’t understand what it is or what it wants me to do.’
‘And I’m no wiser than I was a few moments ago,’ Endryk replied. ‘Understanding other people is hard enough at the best of times. As for understanding the peculiar insights of a Caddoran – where would I start?’
Thyrn nodded and they rode on in silence.
‘Are you sure this isn’t just imagination – or a misinterpretation of what you’re experiencing?’ Endryk asked after a while.
‘As sure as I can be.’ Thyrn looked distressed. ‘I’ve been thinking hard about what’s happened the last two days. What occurred between me and Vashnar was strange enough, but perhaps understandable in some way. Maybe my extreme sensitivity and Vashnar’s part Caddoran nature came together… brought our minds too close.’ He pointed towards the distant mountain. ‘But this is different. I can’t help feeling that it was our coming together that woke this thing. Stirred something into life that was long dead.’ He blew out a noisy breath. ‘I can’t begin to tell you how awful it is, or how Vashnar’s darker nature is being drawn to it.’
Endryk looked at him sharply. ‘You can’t take responsibility for the actions of another. Whatever Vashnar does is his to account for.’
Thyrn stopped him. ‘But I’m responsible for the circumstances that led him to these actions.’
‘No, no, no. Absolutely not.’ Endryk looked around for help. ‘Tell him, Nordath, Hyrald. He can’t…’
But Thyrn addressed them all, cutting across him. ‘You’re all older and cleverer than me at this kind of thing. Maybe I am responsible, maybe I’m not. But the fact is, I feel responsible and I’ve learned enough from you since all this started to know that I can’t walk away from it; I have to face it. I’m the only one who can.’ He looked round at them all. ‘What I want is your help – your advice.’ He turned to Endryk. ‘You’ve faced things that nearly drove you mad. Tell me what it’s like. Tell me what I have to do to win.’