Kaxiniz sighed. “Potanderzin, do not—”

“Yes, Grandfather! I must tell him. Why shouldn’t he know?”

“Tell me what?” Dain demanded.

Potanderzin’s amber and silver eyes blazed at him. “You mean our destruction.”

“What?”

“It has been foretold! The son of Tobeszijian will find us, even in refuge where no man may enter. No matter where we hide, he will ride straight to us with eyes that see past the veils of concealment. And when he goes forth from us, he will betray us to our worst enemies. Then will we be driven forever from this place of safety, nevermore to dwell here beyond the reach of men.” Stunned, Dain could only stand there, staring at his cousin in astonishment.  “But such a prophecy is impossible,” he said at last. “I would never bring harm to you. I—” “Save your lies,” Potanderzin said roughly. “I tell you it has been foretold.  The veils of seeing have been parted several times, and always we see ourselves in flight, moving eastward, toward the lands of our enemies.” “Visions can be misinterpreted,” Dain said desperately. “I would not act against you. This, I swear!”

“Knowledge of our hiding place now lies in your mind,” Kaxiniz said with quiet weariness. “Among the Nonkind, knowledge can be plucked from anyone’s thoughts, whether he wishes it to happen or not.”

Potanderzin nodded. “You are our downfall, Faldain. Our last destruction. This is why we wish you ill.”