"I did not force her. Brulet..."

Niva's angry voice interrupted. "Brulet is only a child," she answered scornfully. "You should have thought of this!

"You must leave us, take Brulet and leave!" Turning abruptly, she stalked away.

Zena stared after her, shaken by the unexpected attack. Niva was right, that was the trouble. She should have thought of these things. She felt still more confidence drain out of her, and wondered how she would ever find the courage to speak to the villagers now. But she must. She could not let Niva stop her.

She turned to Lief, her face drawn with anxiety, but before he could speak, another voice interrupted. "You must not let Niva bother you," the voice said. "Not all of us feel as she does."

Zena turned, startled. A young man stood there, smiling at her. "I thank you for telling me this," she said, trying to smile in return.

"I, at least, would like to hear more of the Goddess," the young man continued. "I am called Wulf, and if you will come with me, I will take you to speak with some of the others who would also like to hear more."

He led them toward a group of villagers. They were greeted politely, but Zena could see that some at least were wary. Taking a deep breath, she sat beside them. Lief sat quietly by her side, and the touch of his warm hand on her arm seemed to send strength back into her. "I am Zena," she began. "I have come to speak for the Goddess. I cannot tell you what you should think, but I hope you will listen, try to remember the ways of the Mother."

"We will listen," an old man answered. "Yes, we will listen, and some of us will remember." He nodded at her encouragingly, and she began to speak. At first, she stumbled with her words, but gradually they came more easily. A few faces were hostile, but most were interested, even eager, and she was pleased.

She continued to meet with the people for many days after that, telling them again and again of the ancient ways of the Mother, the ways of love and compassion and respect for all that lived upon the earth, of the wisdom of the circles and the wise ones who had taught it to their people. She was able to speak of the Goddess at old Krone's burial, too, and Brulet at least was comforted.

Slowly, her confidence began to return. Whether her words had an effect that would linger long enough to convince the villagers to return to the Goddess, she did not know, but at least she had tried - and she had tried as herself.

She was also able to ask about Teran during these discussions, but no one had heard anything about her. She wished she could ask Niva, too, suspecting she was the person most likely to have information, but Niva's closed face made it clear she had no wish to be seen speaking with the one called Zena. She had not been able to visit the young woman whose infant she and Lief had saved, either. Niva did not allow anyone to go into Pila's tent without her permission, and to provoke another confrontation seemed disruptive.

During those days and nights Lief watched over her with care, Brulet too, lest Korg or the Leader seek revenge. But to his astonishment, and Zena's, Korg and the Leader did not confront them, did not come into the village at all. They had gone to their hut in the woods, Brulet explained, and spoke only to those who came to them. Lief and Zena were relieved but also worried about what would happen when they left. Would Korg and the Leader accuse some people of helping Zena, of betraying them? Would the villagers be able to resist the Leader's mesmerizing voice, his persuasive words, urging them to return to the Great Spirit?

There was no way to tell, no way to prepare, except to take Brulet with them so she at least would not be accused.

On the day they were to leave, Hular came up to Zena and Lief, looking worried. "I cannot find Mara," he said. "Have you seen her?"

"No, I have not," Zena replied, and Lief said the same. They waited all morning for Mara, and just as they were beginning to become alarmed, she reappeared.

"We could not leave without this," she mumbled, thrusting the crown of white feathers into Zena's hand.

"I thank you, Mara!" Zena exclaimed. "I had thought we would never see the crown again. Where did you find it?

"Are you all right?" she asked, taking another look at Mara's strained face.

Hular's alarmed exclamation came before Mara could answer. "Mara, what has happened to you!" For the first time, Zena saw the bloody scratches on Mara's arms and legs. She was covered with them.

"I fell in some brambles, that is all," Mara snapped. "I must get ready to leave," she added, and walked quickly away.

Zena stared after her, frowning. Mara was not just scratched and bloody - her face was tight, strained, as if she was trying not to cry, or was terribly angry.

All that day, as they climbed over the pass and all the next as they walked on, Mara's face did not change. When they asked her what was wrong, she only shook her head and would not speak. Not until they reached the lake on the far side of the next pass and she saw what had happened to Rofina, did she finally tell them what she had done.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

Rofina wrapped her arms tightly around her chest to quell her shivering. The familiar gesture was comforting. Durak had held her this way too, she remembered. Sometimes he had been so close to her that she had could not tell the difference between her body and his. She had liked the feeling. He was not here now, though. Only her mother was nearby, stirring something by the fire. Perhaps it was more of the potion. Rofina hoped so. What her mother gave her helped, but it was not the same as the potions Korg had given her. No matter how much she drank of her mother's potions, they did not stop the shaking or fill the terrible emptiness inside her, as Korg's had.

Tears welled up in Rofina's eyes. She wanted desperately for the shaking to stop and the emptiness to go away. But the only way to do that was to find Korg and the Leader, and Durak and her mother did not want her to leave this place.

Too restless suddenly to sit still, she rose and began to pace back and forth by the fire. Runor saw her walking and was encouraged. This was the first time Rofina had moved around. Until now, she had only lain on her pallet shaking and shivering as if nothing would warm her again. Perhaps she was finally improving. Durak had gone back for more poppies, fearful that they would run out before Rofina was ready, but now Runor wondered if that had been necessary.

"That is good, for you to be walking, Rofina," she said approvingly.

Rofina stopped and looked around her with startled eyes. "Where am I?" she asked, frowning in consternation. "I do not see the huts, or any people."

"We have left the village for a time," Runor answered. "We came here so you could get better."

"I must go back," Rofina said, as she had said many times each day since they had been here. She began to shake badly again and there was panic in her face.

"We are not far away," Runor comforted. "And Durak will soon return. He has gone for more of the potion, and that will help."

Her momentary spurt of hope vanished. She had been right to send Durak. They would need many more of the poppies before Rofina was truly healed - if that was even possible. The oil from their pods were most powerful before the seeds were ripe, and that time was past. What she was giving Rofina now was not working very well, and what Durak collected might not work at all. Even the sleeping potion she gave Rofina at night did not work as well as it had.

"I want Durak to come back," Rofina said, weeping now. "I need him. I need..." Her voice stopped and she began to pace again, hugging herself at the same time for comfort.

Pity engulfed Runor as she watched, but after it came a frustration so fierce it left her breathless. It was Mara who needed her most, Mara who even now was in the same village as Korg and the Leader. She knew what she had to do to save Mara, had felt such peace because finally she had made up her mind to act. But now she could do nothing to help her, nothing at all. She was trapped in this desolate place, unable to leave Rofina. What was happening in that village? What was Mara doing, what was she planning to do?

She should have made Mara stay with Rofina, Runor told herself bitterly, should have gone to look for Korg and the Leader herself - except she could not have. Her legs were too weak, too painful. Just to reach this place had taken all the strength she possessed. To retrace her steps to her village and then climb still another pass, an even higher one, would have been impossible.

"They are cruel choices You have given me, Great Mother," she cried out, uncaring that Rofina should hear. "To have to decide which of my daughters I should try to save is harsh, but to be unable to make the choice because I am old and frail is harsher still. And even before that to have to choose between You and the child I had nurtured in my womb... Great Mother, I did not know You could be so cruel..."

She stopped abruptly as Rofina looked at her in alarm. Had she understood? But of course she had not. Probably she had not heard the words, only the unexpected tone. Rofina had noticed nothing in all these days except the craving that consumed her.

Runor took a deep breath, calming herself. None of this was Rofina's fault, and she must not be blamed. "Soon, I will give you the sleeping potion," she told her daughter softly. "When you awaken, Durak will be back." Rofina nodded and touched her gently. Perhaps, after all, some part of her had heard.

Runor sighed. She was so tired, so very tired. She had been awake since Durak had left the evening before. Rofina had to be watched all the time, lest she try to go back. Her eyes closed involuntarily; she snapped them open again but felt them close once more. She had better give Rofina the sleeping potion now, she decided, instead of waiting for darkness. That would be safer, in case sleep overcame her.

She went to the rough shepherd's hut they used as a shelter and took out her bag of herbs. Deftly, she pinched out what she needed and put it in a cup, then poured some broth into it from a deep bowl and set it by the fire to warm. She would make herself a warm drink, too, Runor decided, pouring broth into another cup and setting it beside the first.

Rofina watched her and felt a cautious stillness come over her. She had never felt that way before, as if she were planning something that she had not known she could plan. Durak had taught her that, she remembered.

"If you have a problem," he had said, "come to me and we will find the best way to solve it." But Durak was not here, so she must solve it herself. What she had to do was find Korg and the Leader so they would give her the right potions, but Durak and her mother did not want her to find them. Durak was not here, so now there was only her mother, and if her mother slept...

Runor rose to find more wood for the fire. In that instant, Rofina switched the cups. When Runor returned, Rofina was sitting by the fire, drinking from the cup she had taken. Runor picked up the other one and took a deep draught, then another, until all the broth was gone. It was not very warm yet, but still it tasted fine and rich. Now, perhaps, she could rest for a time. Rofina would soon be asleep.

Pulling her fur covering over her shoulders, Runor prepared to wait. Slowly, her eyes closed. She forced them open, but they soon closed again. Many times they closed and she opened them again, but then, abruptly, she could not. With a small sigh, she sank limply to the ground.

Rofina watched her. Now she was frightened. What had she done? What would happen if she wanted more of the potion and her mother did not wake up?

She must find Korg quickly. Her mother had said they were not far away. Pulling herself up from the fire, Rofina began to walk. Which way should she go? She thought she remembered coming down a steep hill, so that meant she should go up it again. Was that right? They had come over the pass; she remembered Durak talking about that, too, so surely she was right. Soon, she would be there, she reassured herself as she began to climb.

She wished she had brought another fur, to help with the shivering. It was colder up here, and her feet no longer seemed to belong to her. One of them landed in a hole, and she stumbled. Pulling herself upright again, she trudged on.

Wind began to blow at her, and she did not like it. She curled herself into a ball on the ground, to get away from it, but it followed her, so she sprang up again. It was trying to hurt her, the wind, making bumps all over her skin as if something was crawling on it. She swiped at them frantically, but they would not leave. One of her feet twisted on a rock, and that hurt her, too. Tears sprang into her eyes, but the wind whipped them away before they could fall. Rofina lowered her head and blundered on. Soon, she would find Korg or the Leader, or maybe Durak would come... He could not be far away...

It was hard to see now. The sky seemed to be getting darker. Was night coming already? But if night was coming, Runor would give her the sleeping potion, and then she would feel better. Except Runor was not here, Rofina thought in confusion. She had taken the sleeping potion instead. Why had she done that? Durak was not here, either. They were both somewhere else. But that did not matter. It was the Leader she needed to find, the Leader she really wanted. Or was that true? Durak was the one she loved most, not the Leader; she was sure of it. Durak's hands were so gentle. They would take away the horrible itching that had spread all over her body now, as if the crawling things made by the wind had become larger and stronger. They had even gone inside her, and she did not like them. Durak should be here, to help her. Why did he not come for her as he had before? She wanted him to come, to soothe her with his hands, his voice, to hold her...

There was something else she needed. The potion. She needed more of the potion. Only that would make her better. Surely the Leader would send someone with it soon. Rofina swallowed convulsively, to get the dryness out of her throat. Someone must come now, or she would not be able to breathe. She rubbed at her throat but that only made the dryness spread, and then it made her gag. There was something wrong in her belly, too, as if the dryness had gone there. Only she was so hot inside, like a fire, except that she was shivering. Everything outside her was shivering but the inside of her was burning... It hurt her terribly, the burning, and she could not stand the things that were crawling around inside her, on top of her. She had to make them go away...

A blast of wind brought her to her knees. She gasped and fell against the ground, weeping soundlessly. Her fingers groped ahead of her as she tried to rise, and she felt the coldness of water. Maybe there was a stream, and she could wash the crawling things away, cool herself. She was hot now everywhere. Even the shivering felt hot, as if bits of fire were jumping across her skin. To cool her body would feel so fine, so very fine...

Desperate now for relief, Rofina crawled to the water and slid into its coldness. Immediately, the heat went out of her, the itching. Sighing, she let the coldness embrace her. But then the water felt too cold; it was hurting her as all the other things had hurt her. Her whole body ached, an ache so deep it could not be borne. She struggled against the water, trying to get out, but it would not let her go. It pulled at her limbs, made them too heavy to move, and she gave up trying. She was too tired, and her body ached too badly. Rofina closed her eyes and waited. Perhaps someone would come now to help her.

Slowly, very slowly, the aching faded and then it too went away. After that, she did not feel anything except the welcoming coldness that made her numb and took all the pain away. There was nothing to feel any more, not the emptiness that had tormented her for so long, not the fear that she would not find anyone or that no one would come to her with the potion. She did not need the potion any more, and so she did not need to be afraid. Even when the water pulled her down and made it hard to breathe, she did not feel afraid. Instead, she felt only peace.

Durak hurried over the pass. He had not meant to be so long, but he had met Zena and the others and had stopped to tell them what had happened since they had left. Frantic now with worry about Rofina, he sprinted ahead of them toward the lake. It glittered in the sun, almost blinding him with its brightness.

A fragment of pale color floating in the water caught his attention. Shielding his eyes with a hand, he peered down.

"Rofina!" he screamed. "Rofina!"

His legs shook under him as he careened down the slope. What he saw could not be Rofina; it could not be, but the light hair floating in the water, the slender arms and legs...

When he reached the lake he plunged in without stopping to look again. Some part of him knew already, had known all through the night. He had dreamed of Rofina, had heard her calling, and seen her frail figure moving across a darkening field....

The coldness hit his chest with such force that he could barely breathe. Gasping with the shock, he struggled to wade toward Rofina. He took two steps, then another two, but then his legs would not move any more. They were too heavy, too numbed by the icy water. He forced them ahead anyway but now he could not feel where they landed, only that they ached so intolerably he wanted to scream.

One of his legs went out from under him; then the other went. He lunged ahead, reaching out with both hands to grasp Rofina. Water poured into his mouth; retching, he tried to stand again, but his feet felt nothing. The feeling had gone from his arms, too. He willed them to reach out, watched as they moved through the water. They had almost reached her fingers, and then they had grasped them, were holding on with a strength he did not know he possessed. He tried to pull her toward him but she would not come. Her fingers were slipping away; they would not come closer and he could not hold on much longer... He was too cold, too numb...

His head began to sink, and he snapped it up again. He was afraid now, afraid of the icy water that would take him as it had taken Rofina. He tried to go back, to pull her back with him, but his legs were not there at all, he could not find them...

Shouts penetrated his consciousness, and he turned his head. Behind him, figures were racing toward the water. He looked at them for a moment and then looked away again. He must get Rofina out; that was all that mattered.

"Durak, come back! Come back!" Hular shouted, racing down the slope. The others sprinted down behind him.

"He is too cold," Lief said grimly when they reached the lake. "We must get him out. We will hold onto each other and see if we can reach him. It is the only way.

"Leave your packs and clothing here," he added. Throwing them off himself, he waded slowly into the icy water. The others did the same. Hular came behind Lief, holding fast to his hand, after him came Zena and then Mara and Brulet, all holding tightly to each other. Stretching out his free hand, Lief tried to grab Durak but could not. "One more step," he grunted.

All of them moved forward a step; Lief lunged toward Durak and managed to grab his pack. "Pull!" he gasped. "Move back and pull."

Slowly, the chain of people moved back toward the shore. One after another they tumbled away from the water, gasping with shock from the cold, and hurried to wrap their garments around them. Durak came last, dragged behind Lief and still holding tight to Rofina's hand. Lief bent to examine her and knew immediately that they were too late. They must concentrate on Durak. He had collapsed against the ground, too cold to stand. His face was so pale he looked already dead.

"Fire!" Hular called out, and ran for wood. Brulet had already found some and was yanking it into a pile. Zena pulled out her flint but her hands shook so badly she could not make them work. Mara, less wet, took it from her and after a few moments managed to get a small fire going. The others piled on more wood and the fire began to burn strongly.

Pulling Durak close to it, they stripped off his wet clothing. "We must warm him with our bodies," Hular said. "Get dry furs from the packs and we will lie all around him."

"Lief, too!" Zena cried out. "He is too cold." He was shaking so hard that he could not stand, either. She took him into her arms and pulled him down with her against Durak; the others surrounded them and after a time, warmth began to creep back into their bodies.

Zena peered down at Durak. "He has more color, I think," she said, and grabbed his wrist to feel for the pulse. "His heart beats," she added.

Mara rose abruptly. "Rofina," she said, and the anguish in her voice brought stillness into all of them.

"It is too late," Lief said gently, but Mara did not hear. She walked to the edge of the lake, where Rofina still lay. Her long pale hair hung limp against her cheeks, and her outstretched limbs were as white as newly formed ice. Mara knelt beside her and touched the frozen face as tears poured down her cheeks.

"I should have," she screamed suddenly. "Why did I not do it, why did I not! It was in my power to do it, my hands were on the knife and I did not...."

Slumping down against Rofina's body, she began to sob, huge, tearing sobs that shook her body in painful spasms. Zena went to her and stroked her back, waiting. What did Mara mean? What was it she should have done?

A sound made her turn. Runor was calling Rofina's name from the field below and trying to run toward them. "She has gone," Runor cried, "Rofina has gone..."

Her legs would not take her any further and she leaned over, panting. Lief and Hular ran to her. Together, they helped her up the steep hill.

"She gave me the sleeping potion," Runor gasped, trying to get her breath. "Rofina did. She took mine and I had hers..."

Lief stood still. He must tell her before she saw Rofina. Not to speak would be cruel. "She was in the lake," he said gently. "Durak found her in the lake. The water was too cold."

Runor looked up at him, her old eyes searching his face for truth. "Rofina is dead," she said simply. "She is dead." Her body sagged for a moment and then she straightened her shoulders determinedly.

"I must see to Mara," she said. "I heard her voice."

Lief and Hular helped her to Mara, whose head still rested on Rofina's cold body. Runor knelt beside her. With gentle fingers she pushed aside Rofina's tangled hair and looked into her face, saw that it was peaceful. "Perhaps it is better this way," she murmured. "Perhaps, after all, it is better so..."

"It is not better!" Mara screamed, rising to her knees to face her mother. "They have done this to her, Korg and the Leader. They have killed her as surely as if they had put a knife in her back, as I should have put my knife in theirs..." With a savage gesture, she thrust out with an imaginary knife; then she buried her face in her hands.

"Look at me!" Runor commanded. Shocked by her mother's tone, Mara slowly took her hands from her eyes.

"But you did not," Runor said, and there was a terrible tension on her face, part fear, part anxiety, part hope.

"I did not," Mara said bitterly. "I should have and I did not." Runor's eyes closed, and relief flooded her face.

Mara rose suddenly. "I must go back," she said, "and this time I will not fail."

"No!" Runor's voice was shockingly loud. "No, you will not. That is not for you to do."

"Then who will do it?" Mara stared defiantly at her mother.

Runor did not answer the question. "Why did you not do it?" she asked instead, watching Mara's face carefully.

Mara looked away; then she raised her eyes to Zena. "Because of the Mother," she said slowly. "I listened to Zena and I thought that Her way is better, to bring the people back to the Mother, to live by Her ways, that if we did that, the Leader would not have power any more..."

Her voice broke. "But now Rofina is dead; they have killed her and they will kill others the same way."

"No," Runor said again, this time more quietly. "They will not. The Goddess Herself has told me this." Her eyes widened in shock as she realized what she had said, and knew that it was true. The Goddess had told her. That was why the picture of what she must do had come to her so clearly. The Goddess Herself had given it to her, had chosen her to do Her will.

"The Goddess Herself has told me they will be stopped," Runor repeated, to make sure Mara had understood and would no longer seek revenge.