They rode through a forest that appeared wild to Jareen, full of deep green ferns and trees towering over head for hundreds of feet. There were conifers of a type she did not recognize bearing clumps of fragrant green needles. Their dense canopy cast the world in a dusky blue-green shade. The air was cool, and she felt that her silks were not warm enough. She noticed that none of the Canaen wore silk; they wore clothes of a material that appeared much heavier than silk, and coarser. Rather than loose robes, they wore trousers more like some of the human sailors she had seen.

She couldn't help but stare at them. There was no question that they were Vien—at least, there was no physical difference except perhaps a thinness in the face and the varying presence of the Change. Violet was not a color worn or used in Findeluvié because of its association with the Canaen, but here that hue was present in dyed cloth, ornaments, the plaques of the Change upon their faces, and the discolorations of their hair.

The Canaen had allowed Jareen to mount a vaela by herself, and though she did not know how to command it, the creature responded to the sung commands of the Canaen riders and followed along with the others. She rode near the front with Isla and Yelti. The path was wide enough for two riders to move abreast. Coir was near the rear, and she suspected the Canaen intentionally separated them. They rode until the early afternoon. The ground grew rockier as they went, and they passed along a narrow gorge with ferns growing thick upon near-vertical slopes. Rising from the gorge at last, they entered a glade at the foot of a tall tir.

More of the great evergreens towered there, with diameters easily fifteen yards and more across. They towered into the blue sky, the lower halves of their trunks bare of branches. Houses hung from them, their curling beams carved around the trunks. Webs of ropes and walkways connected the structures at many levels. The settlement appeared to ring the base of the tir. A few stood upon platforms above the opening of the gorge and other Canaen moved about among the houses and walkways, looking as if they were going about normal life—except they stopped to stare at the arrivals.

Well into the glade the riders dismounted and Jareen slid off the vaela's back, holding the mane to lower herself slowly and leaning against her hip to avoid putting pressure on her belly. She alighted on the balls of her feet, trying to avoid any jostle.

"We are expected," Isla said. "Come with us." He turned to Yelti. "Bring the human."

Isla did not wait for Yelti to bring Coir but motioned to Jareen and strode off toward the base of the hill. Stairs were cut into its side, winding up the contour of the slope. The tir rose hundreds of feet, and before Jareen was half way, her heart was pounding and she felt short of breath. The babe kicked as if complaining. Even a month ago, Jareen would not have become so winded. Isla glanced at her with barely narrowed eyes, but he made no comment. Jareen wiped away the sweat, bent over with her hands against her thighs as she continued the climb. She would not complain.

The great conifers grew up the sides of the tir as well, each the host of a variety of unique houses and platforms. Some of the Canaen she saw there bore little or no sign of the Change, unlike the riders who had found her.

Her side hurt when at last she stepped into the open and the full light of day shone down on the crown of her head. Isla stepped aside to allow her to pass into the lead. She lowered her hand from her belly and surveyed the open bald. Whether the tir was naturally flat-topped or whether the peak had been cut away somehow, she did not know. The level space was flagged with natural rock, and tall stones stood upright in a great circle all around, overgrown with flowering vines. In each of the cardinal directions, paths passed through openings in the stone wall. They had entered upon the western path. At the center of the stone pavement was a wide ring of deep grass. Within the central greensward grew shapes like strange bushes or stunted trees. Above, hardly a wisp of cloud marred the blue sky. A firm and cool breeze blew across the tir-top from the east. She shivered at its chill. Even at night Findeluvié was not so cold. She had quickly reacclimated to the climate of her homeland. That, and she had worn heavier clothing in Nosh.

Many Canaen sat or reclined around the courtyard, if courtyard it could be called. They were severely marred by the Change, even compared to Isla.

"Come to the center," Isla said, and then turned and spoke to someone behind them: "Keep the human here until called."

Jareen glanced back and was surprised to see Coir and Yelti standing there. No doubt they had caught up as she struggled on the hillside. Coir gave her the slightest smile and nod, and she followed Isla out into the courtyard, heading straight for the grassy sward in the center. As they moved, the Canaen rose and converged on the grass, so that when they arrived in the center it was to a crowd of perhaps a score of marred Canaen. Near one of the strange bushes, Isla raised his arm for Jareen to stop.

She flinched and stepped back. It was not a bush, but a Canaen. Its body was so marred by the Change that it was barely recognizable. It sat on what was either a strange stool or a growth of upthrust roots. Reaching vines, branches, and even leaves had erupted from its body. The only way she could recognize its face as a face were hints of a nose and jaw protruding from bark-like plaques, and violet and green strands of hair draped down from among horny branch-like protrusions. It looked as if the Canaen—she couldn't tell if it was a vien or a vienu—had burst into growth like a coppiced stump. Jareen had already accepted the reality of the Current, but she had never seen such a monstrosity before. She looked at the other bushy growths rising from the grass, but they did not show the same signs of having once been Vien. Maybe it was a trick or some kind of horrifying sculpture.

As she stared at the unsettling form, some spoke nearby:

"We received your message, Isla," the voice intoned in the strange rhythms and notes of the Canaen. "We see the Daughter of Vah now before us."

The vienu who spoke was so marred by the change that growths had knobbed out of her head like diseased antlers in multiple directions. Her hands were fused, so that fingers were no longer distinguishable. It was only the cut of her clothing and a timbre in her voice that indicated she was a vienu and not a vien.

The vienu faced Jareen, observing her with a passive expression. The wind whistled cold across the hilltop, and Jareen shivered, arms wrapped around herself for warmth. It blew her silks against her body, clearly countering her stomach. She hunched over a little, trying to hide her belly, to keep her silks hanging loose. The vienu took a step toward her, and then another. Jareen resisted the urge to step back, as the vienu came within arm's length and leaned forward. Her irises were violet like the tangled hair on her head.

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"Your message was not complete, Isla," she said. "She may be free from the Current, but I yet have eyes." The vienu reached out and placed a hand on Jareen's belly. Jareen's self-possession failed, and she recoiled from the touch. The babe within her kicked. "I see swollen breasts and swollen belly," the vienu said. "This one hides another life."

"Nothing was said of it," Isla answered. "I came to suspect it only this hour."

The vienu turned and took a few steps further into the grass. Her malformed shoulder jerked in what might have been a shrug.

"Let us reach out together."

At this word, all in the gathering remained still and silent. They ringed the grass sward, facing inward, staring toward the cluster of growths.

At last, the vienu spoke again:

"The ancients speak. The Children of Vah the Innocent may find refuge here, but she may not leave."

To Jareen, the judgment came with relief. So long as her babe was safe, she could tolerate it.

"But who is the child's father?" the vienu asked, turning back to look at Jareen. It was clear that Jareen was meant to answer. Her momentary relief was chased by a pang of dread.

"You wouldn't know him," she said, letting anger give an edge to her answer. The vienu tilted her head, the protruding growths turning with it.

"Loved where love was not permitted," the vienu said. "Among whom is love forbidden in the Nethec?"

It was posed as a questions, but Jareen suspected the answer was known, and so she held her tongue. Inwardly she rebuked herself for speaking even that much truth, but what else was she to say, not knowing what Coir had shared? She should have trusted more in Coir's savvy. He had survived much, already.

"Speak or do not," the vienu went on. "When the babe is born, we will see clearly."

Jareen's skin was already prickling with cold, but that statement was still colder in her ears. Had she risked death and suffered so much only to arrive to the same situation as before? Jareen was tired and beyond sick of being subject to the whims of those who grasped the Current. Real or false, it didn't matter; she was better off away from it, and so was her babe.

Even as she thought of her own plight, she thought of Coir.

"What will you do with the human?" she asked.

"It has not been decided. It will be next."

"He means you no harm. He only. . . he wants to find Vah'tane. Truly. The Synod would kill him if he went back. They forbid him from leaving."

"He must answer for himself, and for his time in the Nethec. We are finished with your judgment. You may go and wait with Yelti."

"I want to stay," she said. "The human saved my life." She hadn't realized how true that was until that moment. Without him, she would likely be dead or worse.

"It matters not," the vienu answered, and then waved toward Yelti at the edge of the hilltop. Yelti led Coir forward. The man looked awkward, as only a lone human among Vien could. Nevertheless, there was an odd confidence about him, or maybe it was resignation. He came to stand next to Jareen and made a stiff bow to the vienu.

"Good day," he said in such a wrong tone that it sounded more like "good barter," which Jareen found grotesquely amusing.

"How do you know of Vah'tane?" the vienu asked.

Coir smiled. The vienu didn't know just how much that question would please the man.

What followed was a detailed catalog of every record, every interview, every attempted outreach and embassy event, and practically every ship from Findeluvié that arrived in a Noshian port. The only conspicuous absence was any mention of Jareen. He even outlined the development of his transition from mere curiosity, to confusion and doubt, to ardent belief in the veracity of the stories he had collected. Half of what he said was barely understandable. Jareen, used to him, probably understood far more than the others.

The Canaen still stood silently observing his lecture when half an hour later he produced a tenae from the sash at his waist.

"And this is the original copy of the message I received. Is there any chance that Olor of Theniel is present or may be informed of my arrival?"

There was the slightest rustling among the Canaen, like a breeze moving over fallen leaves.

It was Isla who answered him:

"Theniel is a few days' hard ride down the coast, but no message will summon Olor."

"I should go to him, then?" Coir asked.

"He was overcome," the vienu said, "along with many others. Such was the price of ending the alliance between your people and the Nethec."

Coir inclined his head.

"My respects to his memory," he said.

"The memory of one who destroyed your people?" the vienu asked, her tone betraying a hint of surprise.

Coir met her gaze and held it without flinching.

"The memory of one who warned them," he replied. "I cannot avenge my people, nor would I wish it. The wars of the Vien are not mine, and I would have kept my people from involvement had I the power. I did not come here for Isecan or for Findel. I came here for Vah."

For a time, only the wind spoke.

"I have never seen your kind before, but they say humans are like a wick without wax, bright and brief. I see it is true. Few of our people seek Vah'tane even when years burden them. More choose to give themselves for our people by the power of the Current. We honor Vah the Innocent, driven mad by Findel's wickedness, but it is the example of Isecan we emulate, who fought for his people."

"Vah was not mad," Coir replied. "I believe he spoke the truth."

"Because of musty books in a human archive, or tales told from the Nethec? Do you count your studies greater than our wisdom, who were old before your grandsire sucked at his mother's breast?"

"No," Coir said. "I believe it because nothing else pierces my heart with hope."

Jareen couldn't help raising her eyebrows at that. Hope?

"Hope might outlast the short-lived," the vienu replied. "It does not outlast us."

Coir shrugged.

The vienu looked to the others gathered.

"Does anyone wish to question the human?"

No one spoke.

The assembled Canaen stood for a time as if listening. At length, the vienu raised her voice again:

"The same doom we lay upon you. You have seen our ancients, and you may not leave our groves. Be satisfied with your few years here. Such a blessing has never been given to a human." She turned to Isla. "See that these two are clothed and fed and rested, and let there be a guard upon them."

Isla motioned for Jareen and Coir to follow as the cluster of Canaen dispersed in various directions across the stone pavement.

"Is there any to whom I may appeal?" Coir asked Isla as they approached the stair down the tir.

"Appeal?" he asked.

"Is there anyone of higher authority who might give a different ruling?"

"There is no Synod in Isecan," Isla answered. "The enclaves rule themselves."

"So each enclave could reach a different conclusion?"

"Do nothing foolish. You would be killed before you reached another enclave, and many would not give you such a gracious reception, nor risk our ire."

"Ire?" Coir asked. "There is conflict between enclaves?"

"Enough questions," Isla said. "Our grace has let you live. You will learn our ways. But enough for now."

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