“How are you and Barish getting along?” I asked.
He had the grace to blush. “You got the message to us one way or another, didn’t you, my boy? Well, so far as that goes, we’ve made up our difference. Trouble is, we made them up just before the siege set in, so it’s been little noticeable good to us.”
“There’s a good deal of factionalism among the men,” I said.
“Well, Peter, you know how it’s been. We hadn’t been able to agree on anything, and though most of our disagreement was in private, word got out and sides were taken. It was simply a case of my men championing me and Barish’s men championing him, and who cared what the truth was? Now it all seems foolish. Still, it’s hard to undo several years of conflict all in one strike. That’s why we’ve thought it unwise to try countermeasures against Huldra until we’ve had time to sell the men on one plan. At the moment, we’re not sure they’d act as a unified army. Quite frankly, Barish’s men might sell me to Huldra, or vice versa. I wish we had more of those message crystals.”
“We do,” I said, showing him the contents of my pocket. “But I can push some cooperation into them without using these up if I have enough time.” I told him then about the Eesty method of message transmission, which he then tried on one of his servitors with no success at all. I sighed. I had known it wouldn’t work for him. I was pretty sure a Healer could do it. Otherwise, it would have to be someone who had had the experience of being an Eesty. Probably no one but me could do it at all.
About that time Barish came in. Or, I should say, Barish-Windlow or Windlow-Barish. Last time I’d seen him, it had been Barish-Windlow, with poor old Windlow very much eclipsed, and I had been quite saddened thereby. I blamed myself often for having put them both in one body, though it had been all unwitting and with the best intentions. At any rate, he came in, embraced me, looked me squarely in the face, and said, “I want to thank you, Peter. I know you tricked me, but it was wisely done. The message you brought may have been a good thing to others, to me it was salvation.” He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t need to. I understood in the instant. The two warring halves of himself were now at peace, brought into alignment by the same message meant to align mankind to Lom. It was the best thing that had happened in quite a long time, and I was pathetically grateful for anything good.
We talked a long time, sitting in the comfortable firelight as the evening wore on while I told them about leaving Jinian in the Maze. Small scuttling noises spoke of creatures in the walls, a sound I always associated with the Bright Demesne, though once Barish went to the door and looked sharply outside as though he had heard someone lurking there. If anyone had been there, they had fled at his approach. All our nerves were a bit on edge from the siege and the discovery of the spy and the possibility of conflict among the men. I told them about the giants then, and they exclaimed at Jinian’s luck and level-headedness in getting free of the monsters. When it was very late, I went off to bed, knowing I’d see the others in the morning.
Queynt and Chance and the rest had been at the Bright Demesne for about fifty days, almost half a season. Roges and Beedie were still with them, though the giant Flitchhawk had shown up a day or two after they had arrived and carried the strange, dual-minded Sticky creature in the basket away over the sea.
“It said it owed a boon to Jinian,” Queynt explained, “that it needed the Sticky in order to complete the mission.”
“The Mirtylon part of the Sticky was a bit apprehensive,” Beedie confided, “but the Mercald part was in ecstasy. To have been a bird worshiper all his life and then to be going off with the very god of all the birds made him believe he was in heaven. I assume the Flitchhawk was going after more blue crystals?”
“That’s the mission it was sent on,” I replied. “And given the fact that the Flitchhawk is probably one of the old gods, he will undoubtedly complete the mission with satisfaction. Though it is a very great distance, as I understand it, and he may not return for quite a long time.” That sounded incredibly pompous, even to me, but I’ve never been able to lie in a casual voice. I was still resolved not to tell Queynt or Chance or anyone that the Flitchhawk had already returned and that Mertyn and his crew were busy at the caverns. With spies about, it was better if no one knew.
“Where’s Sylbie, then?” I asked, changing the subject. “She should have arrived only a few days after you did. Jinian said she sent Sylbie off not more than seven or eight days after the rest of you left.”
“She didn’t arrive until twenty days ago,” drawled Chance. “And when I twitted her for
