Konrad's horse pushed forward, raising plumes of snow. He rode out of sight. If anyone had asked him to scout ahead, Elaine had not heard it. The only sounds were wind, snow, the creak of frozen limbs, the creak of the saddle under her.
Blaine was just ahead, close, so close. Elaine tried to form a prayer, but the cold had frozen her lips, slowed her mind. She couldn't think of a prayer. She couldn't think of anything. There was nothing but the cold. All the fear, the panic, had squeezed down inside her into a small, cold center. Elaine knew she was terrified of what they would find, but she couldn't feel it. There was nothing but the cold buried down inside her, shutting everything away.
A shout came over the snow, ringing, echoing. The horses began to jog as fast as they could in the dry, spilling whiteness. Elaine clung to the saddle horn with both hands. The mare was sluggish, not used to anything faster than a canter.
The great tree stood alone in a clearing it had made for itself. Its roots had choked the smaller trees, cleaning away the brush. Five grown men could link hands around the trunk. The branches that reached outward and moon ward were as big around as small trees.
Clouds closed over the moon, leaving the clearing in gloom. Only reflected light from the snow filled the clearing, making it murky. Something hung from one of the naked limbs. Elaine couldn't make sense of it at first. Her eyes refused to see.
The clouds slipped away, bathing the clearing in silver light. The thing on the tree was black and heavy against the moon, arms flung awkwardly outward, one leg dangling toward the snow. The other leg was missing. A large dark stain splattered the snow under the tree.
Elaine screamed.
Tereza had dropped the reins. Her voice came soft on the heels of the scream. "Summer save us."
Konrad stepped out from the undergrowth on the far side of the clearing. "It's not Blaine, or Thordin."
Elaine stared at him. "Who …?"
"They're back here. Hurt, but they'll be fine."
She didn't believe it. He was lying. If Blaine was alive, he'd come to her, hurt or not.
"Elaine, I'm all right." Blaine limped out of the bushes, leaning on Thordin's broad shoulders. He flashed his brilliant smile, the one that said everything was all right. The smile more than the words convinced Elaine.
She slid off the mare, falling to her knees in the snow. She tried to stand, to go to her brother, but the moonlit clearing whirled around her. Dark spots ate the moonlight. She fell forward into the snow. It clutched her face, filled her mouth and nose. Darkness swallowed her. And the darkness was cold.
«^»
THREE
Blaine, wrapped in a quilt, slumped in his seat. A pillow was shoved against the back of the chair. Strips of cloth showed at the split sleeve of his left arm, and his leg was propped up on a small embroidered footstool. It had been the worst injury. Konrad had sewn the wounds shut, using herbal salve and bandages to protect them. Even a small cut could turn septic and cost a person his arm. Blaine trusted Konrad's battlefield dressings more than those of most doctors. Tereza had tried to get Blaine to go to his own bed, but he'd refused. He wanted to be there when Elaine awakened.
Elaine was always weak after a vision, but Blaine had never realized how weak. Her skin had been colder than the snow, cold as death. Only the rise and fall of her breathing had let Blaine know she was alive. Though blood had dripped down his arm and seeped from his leg, though the tree branches had torn his leg and he couldn't walk without help, it was Elaine who had nearly died.
He gazed down at his sister. Her pale yellow hair spilled out over the pillow. Elaine's face was like a mirror of his own. The bones were slightly more delicate, the eyes greener than his own blue, but the twins were still like two sides of the same coin. Their parents had been killed when they were eight; from then on, it had been just the two of them. They had survived for two years before Jonathan took them in. Two years with only each other to trust, to depend on. Mo matter how grateful they were to Jonathan and Tereza, they were each other's family.
He slumped lower in the chair, blue eyes fluttering closed, then open. He struggled to sit a little straighter in the chair. A sharp, stabbing pain ran up his leg.
Elaine's warning had come in time. He and Thordin had dived for cover, but the stranger with them hadn't understood Elaine's yell. He had been a villager from Cortton seeking Jonathan's help. They had been his escort, his safety.
When the tree grabbed the man, they had tried to help. But the tree hadn't felt pain, and where was a vital spot on a tree? Mo heart, no head. . They had done their best, but the man was dead. He had screamed for a very long time before he died.
A small sound came from the bed-not a word, more a soft moan. Blaine straightened up. "Elaine?"
She moved under the heap of blankets, head shifting on the pillows.
He reached out, fingers touching her cheek. "Elaine, open your eyes, please."
She opened her eyes. A gentle smile touched her lips. It was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.
"Blaine, you're all right." Her voice was soft, almost rough, as if her throat hurt.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
Her blue-green eyes blinked up at him. "I'm fine."
He smiled. "I don't believe you."
She glanced at his arm. "You're hurt."
"Konrad fixed me up. I'm more worried about you."
"Why?" She looked puzzled.
He smoothed her hair back from her forehead. Her skin felt blessedly warm. "We sent for a mage."
A frown line appeared between her eyes.
"You nearly died, Elaine. Your skin was cold as ice. We got you home and bundled you up with hot bricks, bed warmers, anything we could think of. But you stayed cold." He answered the question in her eyes. "We don't know what happened to you. Tereza sent for a mage. Even Jonathan agreed to it."
"He agreed to let a mage in the house?" Her voice held soft astonishment.
"We were all scared for you."
"But Jonathan doesn't allow mages inside the house. He almost put" us out when he found out about my visions."
"Visions are not the same thing as real magic."
Elaine smiled. "I remember the arguments."
The household had been divided. Mo one really wanted a mage in the house, but neither did anyone want to turn two young children out. It hadn't been until Tereza sided with those who wished to keep the children that Jonathan had relented.
Jonathan Ambrose was a mage-finder. It was what he did, who he was. He had been a virulent antimagi-cian. After he accepted Elaine and her visions into the household, he had become more understanding, not so quick to condemn everything supernatural as witchcraft. He accepted that Elaine could have unusual powers and not be evil.
Jonathan said Elaine had broadened his mind, and he would always be grateful for that. Without anyone saying it aloud, the twins knew they were loved.
"Is the mage here?" Elaine asked.
"I don't know. I've been here since they put you to bed."
"You're hurt. You need to rest, not sit in a chair."
He grinned. "Like you needed to rest in a warm bed after your vision, not go outside in the winter cold."
Elaine blushed. "I had to go."