Water from the fountain bubbled up green from a cascade of stone flowers and then fell back into the pool with gentle splashes of applause for its own efforts. Around the fountain, blue grass grew luxuriously thick. Over to one side, a tree with pale blue leaves and small pink fruit smelled good.

  The fresh air did housecleaning in Lynn’s mind. By the time Persnip returned with a glass of cold mallowberry juice, she’d thought of something she wanted to do.

  “Persnip,” the girl began so much more alertly that the healer smiled in back-patting satisfaction. Lynn wrinkled her nose at the smug smile but wouldn’t be sidetracked. “I want to see some people.”

  Losing her smile and lifting her chin, Persnip proclaimed, “I will be the judge of that. I don’t know about Tarth healers in general, but I myself am as stubborn, opinionated, and bossy as I need to be at any given moment. You will see whomever I think is wise for you to see, whenever I think it’s wise for you to see them, and that is that!”

  Lynn’s face didn’t lighten as Persnip had hoped it would. “Some Munta women had two dogs. Their names were Boulder and Whistle,” she told her in a low voice.

  Persnip’s eyebrows arched in surprise.

  “Yes, what about Boulder and Whistle? Two more pesky animals don’t exist, in my opinion. If one doesn’t wake you up with a bark big enough to move Munta Hill, the other will get you with a yap that would hurt a deaf man’s ears. I don’t like them around my invalids’ windows; that’s for sure.”

  Lynn lifted her eyes and stared hard at the Munta healer. How could she talk about those noble, self-sacrificing dogs in such a way!

  “They died. They saved me; saved all of us actually, and then they died. They—”

  “Died?” Persnip interrupted, her eyebrows going up another half-inch. “They woke me early this morning. I was so mad; I threw a bedroom slipper out the window at them. Whistle ran away with it, and I mean to get it back!”

  At Lynn’s insistence, Persnip left to bring the dogs themselves to the little garden, but the Munta healer shook her head as she went and vowed vengeance if she found tooth marks on her bedroom slipper.

  Lynn lowered herself onto the thick grass so that she could lean against the fountain wall. She closed her eyes and wondered, for the first time, why she couldn’t throw off her fatigue. She’d stayed up all night before without such dramatic exhaustion. I’ve rested for days already and—

  “Woof!” thundered a massive bark that made her jump. “Yip!” piped a smaller one.

  The two dogs, big bright yellow and small orange-red, frisked over to greet Lynn; and she hugged them again and again, tears coursing down her cheeks. Keshua had said crying wasn’t always wrong. But I wish I wouldn’t pour like a Tarth rainstorm—at least, I don’t cry green.

  The dogs both seemed fine, none the worse for their fall off the precipice edge. Lynn could only guess that the big furry bear had cushioned their fall enough to protect them.

  Thank you, Keshua, thank you!

  A voice that crunched more than ever like wheels running over gravel asked, “Do you mind telling me what this is all about? I mean, they’re nice enough dogs, I suppose, when they aren’t waking people up or stealing bedroom slippers, but what do they have to do with you?”

  Lynn couldn’t answer. She shook her head, holding Whistle so tightly that he squealed and wiggled his way free.

  “Not yet.”

  Persnip took the dogs away, and Lynn went back to her room to take a nap. She didn’t perk up until the next morning after she’d eaten breakfast.

  Leaning back on her pillow, she announced, “Persnip, this won’t work. I can’t get well in a white nightgown!”

  “What?” asked the understandably startled healer. “I need a Stalli blue nightgown!”

  The look in Lynn’s eyes made Persnip think somehow of the cement that held rocks together in a Munta wall. She shook her head, but Persnip was too much of a healer not to take pleasure in her charge’s renewed energy. A messenger was sent, and a whole armful of Stalli dresses and nightgowns arrived later that morning.

  “The Stalli women couldn’t decide who’d have the honor of giving you clothing, so each of them sent something,” Persnip informed Lynn in a voice whose wheels ran over extremely dry gravel this time.

  “Ummm,” murmured Lynn as she slipped a blue gown over her head. “Why haven’t they come to see me then?”

  “Because I wouldn’t let them, that’s why,” Persnip snapped, “though they have certainly plagued my life over the past week, especially that overweight Stalli healer who talks too much. They’re camping in the lower Munta woods, waiting for their raiders and also, I have heard, waiting for you. They say they won’t leave without you.”

  Lynn smiled.

  “Are you ready to see them?” asked Persnip.

  The girl sobered and stared out the window. “Not yet,” she whispered again.

  “People want to give you a big parade so they can cheer you all the way through Munta into the Stalli campground,” commented Persnip offhand.

  Lynn’s eyes opened wide with horror.

  The Munta healer smiled, highly gratified. “I told them you wouldn’t like it, but nobody listens to me about anything except healing. You’ve had a big ordeal, and you don’t need any foolish parades.”

  Lynn switched her gaze to the wooden floor then and turned as red as Persnip’s hair. She’d dreamed about receiving praise from the Muntas and Stallis—especially the Stallis... most especially Chell— but she didn’t want to talk about those dreams.

  “Persnip, I don’t understand what’s going on with me. Why can’t I get my energy back? I’ve rested for days, but my muscles still feel limp.”

  “Gefcla worked on you that whole night and day, as soon as he learned you had started toward Shagger’s rock. I don’t know what attacks he actually made, since you haven’t told me your story, but everyone knew he’d make them. People were praying for you nonstop. You succeeded in resisting Gefcla, but the trip took a lot out of you,” Persnip told her gently in her odd voice.

  Lynn admitted in a rush, “It wasn’t me. Keshua did it really— or the Plete. Maybe the Great One planned the whole thing. All I did was follow the path and try to obey the rhyme.”

  Persnip nodded approval. “That’s exactly what he wanted you to do, whether it was Keshua, the Plete, or the Great One. They work together.”

  Lynn nodded, but a strained expression had come onto her face. “But when I saw Keshua on Shagger’s rock, he could have healed me. He could have taken away my weakness. I don’t understand why he didn’t.”

  “He must have planned some good to come from it,” Persnip told her, masking with admirable control the shock Lynn’s words had given her.

  This strange young woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes who was sitting on the bed in front of Persnip had seen Keshua. She’d seen him a few days ago—and mentioned it this morning as if seeing Keshua was a normal, everyday occurrence.

  Persnip wanted badly to let her mouth open and her eyes bulge, but Persnip, the healer, needed to respond to her patient. Persnip, the woman, could open her mouth and bulge her eyes later on her own time.

  She continued, “Keshua takes away more hard things than we give him credit for, but when he lets them come, he always has a good reason.”

  “Lynn trusts Keshua!” Lynn agreed, nodding slightly.

  Persnip thought the words sounded like some kind of official statement, but Lynn didn’t sound happy when she said them.

  The Munta woman watched as the girl’s gaze moved toward the window. “I asked if he wanted to glance in on you as he left,” the healer suddenly announced.

  Lynn’s gaze darted back towards her. “Who, Keshua?” she asked stupidly.

  “No, you dunce, I meant your young man.”

  Lynn jumped to her feet. Evidently her muscles had regained their strength, but she didn’t notice.

  “I don’t have a young man,” she answered loudly.

  “He said no, he didn’t want to, but I saw the way he looked when he passed your door. I don’t have sand in my brain, you know.”

  With a flourish, Persnip sashayed out of the room.

  Lynn plopped again on the bed, shaking her head, but the last bit of excess sleepiness had left her. She spent the rest of the day peering at whoever passed on the street below her window. In the evening, she went back to the garden. Persnip found her there, staring at the wall and wondering if she could see the Stalli campground if she climbed to its top.

  The next morning, Stalli raiders returned from the Root Forest.

  Lynn and Persnip put their heads together in Lynn’s room and plotted. As a result, that evening after sunset pinked but before nightlights danced, two shadowy figures crept out of the castle and picked their way through the trees toward a brightness of lights and confusion of noise that made up the new Stalli campground.

  One of the figures led the other through the maze of tents. Shouts of laughter and parts of songs filled the air from the central meeting place, where the Stallis were eating supper.

  “In here,” whispered the leading figure.

  She pulled aside the door flap of a tent, and the second figure slipped in, only to have both legs grabbed. A candle revealed the identity of her attackers.

  “Lacht and Irsht!”

  The little girls clung to Lynn’s legs as if they didn’t intend to let go. It wasn’t easy to hug other people under such circumstances, but Lynn managed to give both Bunnistik and Frenne a warm hug.

  “Oh, I’m happy to see you,” she said, laughing out loud.

  Bunnistik started scolding right away. “The idea of going off by yourself and getting sick and worn out again.”

  Lynn listened to the familiar flow of words and knew she’d come home.

  “I tried to get into the castle to take care of you, but that Munta woman who thinks she’s a healer and probably can’t tell pank bark from a mindin leaf wouldn’t let me. Only thanks be to the Great One, here you are and no harm done, though I haven’t had the chance to check you over, which I mean to do as soon as possible, so don’t make any big plans for the evening.”

  “Blessings on you, Lynn,” Frenne got the chance to say during a brief pause. Even Bunnistik had to take a breath every now and then. “We missed you.”

  “I missed you too,” Lynn croaked.

  Something had happened to her throat. It had shrunk into an opening that left very little room for words. If her smile got any wider, it would hurt her face.

  “Well,” Bunnistik said, ready to go again, but Lynn interrupted her, laughing and drawing Persnip into the light.

  “Better watch what you say, Bunnistik! The Munta healer is right here and helped me greatly, just as you did when I first got to Tarth. I think you healers ought to work together instead of insulting each other.”

  “Oh really, and what did she—” began Bunnistik, drawing her plump body up in outrage, but Persnip chose that moment to ask, “I can tell the difference between pank bark and mindin leaves, of course, but do you have any of the Stalli root powder that reduces swelling? I’ve never found that kind of root on Munta Hill.”

  Bunnistik responded with immediate interest, “Oh, you mean foogis powder. Yes, I brought a good supply from the Stalli Mountains because our raiders were so likely to sprain their ankles, sneaking around in the dark. Come to my supply room, and I’ll give you some. Only make sure you boil it in a solution of… “

  The two healers disappeared into one of the back rooms of the healing tent.

  “Lynn,” squealed the little girls.

  Since two of the grownups had left, maybe they could have a turn.

  “Hi, sweethearts.”

  Lynn tried to reach down and hug Lacht and Irsht but wound up tripping over them instead. They collapsed on the floor of the tent in a giggling body clump.

  “Did you know Mamma’s getting married?” Lacht asked between giggles.

  “No!” Lynn said, beaming up at Frenne from the floor. “Frenne, how wonderful! Who is it, and how did it happen?”

  “Winnel gave me the asking bread after the big battle, before he left to go to the Root Forest,” Frenne explained, a happy flush on her face.

  “Asking bread? I’ve never heard of that. What is it?” Lynn asked.

  Frenne’s flush disappeared. “Have you lived among us this long and nobody’s told you of the asking bread? It’s one of our oldest and dearest customs!”

  Then she answered her own question.

  “But of course not—there’ve been no askings for a long time; not out in the desert in the middle of a war. Lynn, when a Stalli man wants to marry a woman, he takes a loaf of sweetbread to her and asks—”

  Lacht pulled at her skirt and begged, “Mamma, let me tell her.” “Me too, me too,” chimed in Irsht.

  “All right. Irsht, you sit on this rug and, Lacht, you stand in front of her. Pretend you’re holding a loaf of sweetbread.”

  The two girls took their positions. Frenne bent and whispered in Lacht’s ear.

  “Will you share my bread, Irsht?” asked Lacht in as deep a voice as she could manage.

  Irsht nodded vigorously, and Lacht sat down next to her sister, handing her the imaginary loaf of bread. Frenne whispered again in both their ears. Irsht pretended to break the bread into two pieces. Then she gave one of them to Lacht.

  “It is my delight to share bread with you,” Lacht told her sister in more of the deep voice.

  Both girls took big bites of air and chewed noisily. Then they rolled on the floor in a fit of renewed giggles at their cleverness.

  Frenne sat on the floor next to Lynn and explained.

  “That’s the first part—when the man comes to the woman and asks. The second part is when she gives him her answer. Usually she waits until at least one night has passed, but I didn’t want to take that much time. The raiders planned to leave early the next morning for the Root Forest. So I got another loaf of sweetbread and took it to Winnel an hour later. You should have seen his eyes twinkle when he saw me coming. I knew he would tease me, but I didn’t care. I wanted things settled between us.”

  Lynn had stiffened all over. Her eyes were staring straight in front of her without focusing, as if she could see something that wasn’t there.

  “Are you all right, Lynn?”

  Ignoring the question, Lynn asked, “Would a Stalli man ever take sweetbread to a woman and say those particular things without meaning to ask her to marry him?”

  “No, certainly not!” Frenne answered emphatically.

  Lacht and Irsht were acting the whole thing out again—only this time Irsht had decided against marrying Lacht, and Lacht was trying to argue her into it. As she laughed at their antics, Frenne watched Lynn out of the comers of her eyes.

  “How long does the woman have to respond?” was Lynn’s next question.

  “She answers within a few days, if she wants to marry the man. If she accepts the asking bread but then changes her mind, she simply doesn’t take him an answer sweetbread. He understands that she is saying “no” and leaves her alone.”

  Lynn groaned out loud, and Frenne quit pretending to watch her daughters.

  “What is it? Shall I get the healers?” she asked anxiously, putting a hand on one of Lynn’s shoulders.

  Lynn shook her head. “No, I know what I need. Girls, would you bring me a sweetbread? Get the biggest one you can see, but don’t tell Frake who wants it!”

  The girls scooted out of the tent.

  “I need more information about the answer bread. Then if you would locate...” Lynn’s voice lowered, and the two women talked in whispers for a few minutes.

  After that, Frenne slipped out of the tent, leaving Lynn with a few precious minutes to herself. She could hear the Stallis still laughing and talking in the central meeting place, but their voices didn’t bother her. She stayed right where she was on the floor and made the most of the time she had.

  Keshua, I’m so scared I can hardly breathe. I’d say, “Lynn does not panic,” and try to control things myself, but I think I’m supposed to depend on you now. Keep me from making a mistake here. Make me hear you right! If you’re not—

  Lacht and Irsht burst through the door with a huge loaf of sweetbread held between them. Frenne came right behind the two girls. Lynn tried to stand up, but her muscles had gone limp again. She pushed herself up somehow, but then she swayed, feeling dizzy and thinking she’d have to cancel everything and lie down.

  Lynne trusts Keshua rushed into her mind with such fierceness that she almost growled out loud.

  “Give the sweetbread to Lynn and follow me,” Frenne was telling her girls. “No giggling!” she added in a stern voice.

  Once again Lynn became a shadowy figure flitting between tents. Frenne hadn’t earned her reputation as the best hunter in the Stalli camp for nothing. No one saw them. They crept stealthily through the maze of tents until they’d almost reached the central meeting place, where the other Stallis were still celebrating.

  Slipping into a tent through its low window, Frenne nodded silently toward the tent’s door. Her girls, who had followed with admirable quiet, grasped their mother’s hands tightly. Lynn went past them toward the open door. As soon as she got there, she spotted him. Chell sat about ten feet away on his blue rug, an empty plate in front of him.

  Taking a deep breath, Lynn walked out of the tent and into the central meeting place. Chell saw her when she was four or five steps away and lifted his eyebrows in surprise. Her face changed instantly from whiter than normal to redder than normal, but she kept coming, holding the sweetbread out in front of her.

  Conversation died down as people recognized her. Cheers came to several lips, but nobody gave them breath. Something was obviously happening.

  “Chell, you have shared your bread with me, now I want to share mine with you,” Lynn stated clearly and added in a low voice, “I didn’t understand what you were doing before. You might have told me!”

  Chell didn’t move from his relaxed sprawl on the rug, but the light in his eyes could have flown up into the sky and twirled with the best of them.