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them you have only found ways to squander your lives.”
    The
man lifted his head and spoke, but Alucius could not hear his words.
    The
ifrit in green laughed, long, melodiously, then shook his head. “There is no
such thing as inherent ‘right’ or justice among all the worlds of the universe.
The universe does not care. Its rules reward survival—and power. If you would
have what you call justice, you must have the strength and the will to create it and to enforce
it .”
    The
woman spoke, and again Alucius could not hear the words.
    The
ifrit smiled, condescendingly, before replying. “We create grandeur and beauty,
and grace. We create peerless art where there was none before. Out of mud and
squalor we build such as you see. There is a price for everything. A world can
live forever and be nothing—or it can become a paragon of splendor and art—and
shine in brilliance for a shorter time.”
    The
man said a few words.
    “You
had the chances, and you did not take them. You, like all your kind, squandered
what you were given. It takes more than luck and pedestrian skill to bring your
will to bear, to change what is degradation and squalor into valor and
splendor. That is especially true in a world of petty and jealous men. You had
the choice between being the child of the Duarchy, the one who would restore
it, or the lamaial. You chose neither path, and that is a choice to do nothing…
and nothing accomplishes nothing…”
    Then,
the great hall began to spin, and the walls began to move, closing in… tighter…
and tighter…
    Alucius
sat up in the double-width bed, shivering, sweating profusely. After a moment,
he blotted his steaming face.
    Wendra
put her hand on his shoulder. “It was only a dream. Only a dream.”
    “It
was one of those dreams,” Alucius said hoarsely. “One
where an ifrit was explaining how we—I—had failed. I haven’t had one of those…
not since… the hidden city, and before.”
    “It
was only a dream…” But Wendra’s voice did not hold certainty.

Chapter 9
    Alucius
and Wendra rode downhill, eastward into the gray or a late summer morning
before dawn, a grayness that would soon be flooded with the golden green sun of
dawn against a silver-green sky.
    To
the west, the half-disc of Selena was paling as the sky lightened.
    Asterta
had long since set. The flock had not spread that much so far, and that meant
that, for the moment, they could ride close to each other. Before long there
would be nightrams investigating away from the flock, and ewes and younger
nightsheep browsing and straggling, while the farther they traveled from the
stead, the greater was the likelihood of sand-wolves and sanders.
    Alucius
looked at Wendra and couldn’t help smiling.
    She
turned. “I like it when you look at me that way.”
    “I’m
glad.” Then, he’d looked at her that way for years, ever since he’d seen her
serving ale and punch at a gathering on the porch of her grandsire’s stead.
    They
rode for another hundred yards before Alucius guided his gray closer to Wendra’s
chestnut. “You know how I talked about doing something to the cartridges we
used against the wild pteridons,” Alucius said. “I mean when I was coming back
from Deforya.”
    “You
told me,” Wendra replied. “We’d talked about it, and how the soarer had showed
me something like that. You haven’t talked about that in over a year. Why do
you bring it up now? Was it the dream?”
    “The
last time I had dreams like that was before I ran into the ifrits.”
    “You
think they might reappear?”
    “I
don’t know. If they do, or if we see wild Talent-creatures… I wanted to make
sure you knew how to fight them off.”
    “I
already did… remember?”
    “I
know,” he said. “But… I’m worried. I should have gone over it with you before.
That way I’d know, and it would be something I wouldn’t fret about as much.”
Alucius frowned, then continued, “When I think about it, it bothers me,