“The priests have assured me—”

“Majesty,” Dain dared interrupt, “the source of this poison is darkness, not some plant extract. It has been brewed from malice and evil. Your priests cannot hold it indefinitely. They have not the strength.”

The king swung his gaze to Gavril, who said, “These objections only delay us. He thinks he can find the Chalice there. If he can, it will cure her. We must take the chance. I am willing, as is Dain. Let us go.”

The king stared at Dain for a long while, then glanced at Pheresa. “I do not believe this quest has a chance of success, certainly not with winter coming.  Nether is a cold and dangerous land, rife with Nonkind and Thod knows what. The guardian priests can keep her alive until spring. Wait that long. You cannot go to the far north now.”

“The only certainty we have is her death if we remain here,” Dain told him. “The autumn snows will not be deep. If our journey is swift and meets with success, we may be able to evade the worst of winter.”

“Thod! Do you have an answer for every objection?”

Dain made no answer as the king paced back and forth. Finally his majesty threw up his hands. “Very well. But, Faldain, it is my son who will be in command. You must conceal yourself. I fear you will be taken if your presence becomes known.” “Agreed,” Dain said. He glanced at Gavril, but the prince’s frowning gaze remained on Pheresa. Dain looked back at the king. “All care must be taken with the pretense that I remain here. My recent illness is a perfect ruse. The chamberlain has only to announce that I continue to be unwell, that I am recovering less quickly than was hoped and must stay confined to my apartments.” “You have been seen by many today, hale enough to come here.”

Dain smiled. “I am about to suffer a relapse.”

“Ah. Clever.” The king smiled back, but only briefly. “I can play my part, sending queries to your servants every day about your health. But in truth, Faldain, are you indeed recovered enough for such a journey as this?” “We must go slowly for her sake,” Dain said. “That will serve me as well.” “We’ll go by boat,” Gavril announced. “As far as the Charva can take us. Then we’ll load the lady on a wagon and journey overland with all care.” The king looked at his eager son. “And you, Gavril? Can you put aside your enmity for Faldain during this journey? Can the two of you stay together, allies for this purpose, without quarreling or fighting each other with the intent of harm?”

“If he can lead us to the Chalice, and cure her,” Gavril said, “I shall endure his company gladly.”

The king’s gaze shifted to Dain, who replied, “I give your majesty my word of honor.”

“Mind this well, Faldain. The army I send is not for your purposes.” Dain bowed in silence, but inside he was thinking of what his father had told him in the dream: Be king, and the army will come to you. Rubbing his arms under his cloak, he shivered.

Verence was still talking: “You will also take personal guards, priests, these guardians of her life, and my own physicians. If Nonkind attack you—” “I’ll be able to defend us with Tanengard,” Gavril said with shining eyes.  “No!”

“Father, it is the best means of ensuring our safety. Dain will agree.” “I forbid it,” Verence said. “Not even to save Pheresa will I allow you to condemn your soul.”

“But Dain has silenced its powers,” Gavril said. “It cannot harm me now. Its powers will awaken only against Nonkind. Would you have us slain when we could be protected?”

The king shook his head. “This is the gravest folly. I retract my permission.  You will not go, Gavril. It is far too dangerous. I will not risk your life in that barbarous place.”

“I am going!” Gavril shouted. “I must go! It is my duty.”