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"Don't worry about that now," Ian said quickly. "It doesn't matter. Just come along."

One step and then another. That was the way. After an eternity Alistair glanced up and saw Ravenspur spinning crazily in the distance. He caught his toe in a tuft of dried grass and went down. A soft rain began to fall, and he welcomed its coolnesss on his hot face, hardly aware that he was shivering convulsively.

"I ken you're weary," Ian said. "But ye canna lie here. Get up, now, that's an order!"

Alistair managed to open one eye, but he was incapable of speech. Ian stood looking down at him, and it seemed to Alistair that the rain fell all around him, but his hair and clothing were still dry. He raised his head and whistled sharply and two dark birds alighted on his shoulders. He spoke to them and they took off again.

"You killed them?" Deirdre asked in disbelief. "Both of them?"

Ronan, who was kneeling on the moor as he searched for tracks, cast her a quick look over his shoulder. "I don't know. I might have done. Sure, I didn't stay to inquire after their health! I was in a wee bit of a hurry at the time."

"But why were they chasing you in the first place? What—"

"Damnation," Ronan swore, straightening to peer across the empty moor, "we've lost them."

Deirdre lifted herself in the stirrups. "Alistair!" she cried. "Alistair, where are you? Can you hear me?"

The only answer was the wind whispering along the moor.

"Which way, Ronan?"

"How should I know?"

"You used to say that you could see things," she said bitterly. "Was it all a lie?"

"No, but—"

"How do you do it?" she shouted. "What do you need?"

"I don't know! It comes when it will, I cannot summon it—I don't know how—"

"Figure it out," she snapped.

"All right, Dee," he said. "I'll try. Do you have something that belongs to him? Even something he handled—"

"Yes." She wrenched the ring from her finger and gave it to him. "Ronan, hurry—"

He closed his hand about the bit of silver. "He was thinking of you when he held it," Ronan said. His eyes were wide and the wind blew dark strands of hair about his face. "He was remembering...something you had said about a ring...and thinking you would smile when he gave it to you... He loves you," Ronan said, surprised. "He was thinking that in spite of everything, he would ask you to marry him..."

He sighed and relaxed his hand. "There's nothing else."

"There must be," Deirdre said. "There has to be. Try again. I don't care—oh, no," she whispered, a thrill of fear racing down her neck. "No."

"What is it?"

"Look," she said, her voice high and thin with terror. "Up there. Do you see? Oh, sweet St. Brighid, it's them, the corbies—do you see them?"

"Of course I see them. But—"

"We're too late—I know it—" she called over her shoulder, already racing after the birds.

She found Alistair lying on his back, one hand outstretched, the rain falling on his upturned face. Finn lay beside him, whimpering. Deirdre fell to her knees and touched his brow.

"Alistair? Alistair, wake up, love, open your eyes—"

Alistair's lids fluttered open. His eyes were dazed, but they fastened on Deirdre's face with desperate hunger. "Dee. Are ye real?"

She bent close to catch his words and her hair brushed his face. He caught the scent of it and wished he had the strength to raise his arms.