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As Baldwin lowered the mirror in confusion, Hathumod crawled forward Her hand came to rest on a bundle so clotted with dirt and reen, and flakes fell everywhere, spinning away to meld with the smoke from the torch Like Baldwin, she was either a fool or insensible She groped at the bundle, found a faded leather pouch that actually cruers except, strangely, a nail an to weep just as Gerulf shook loose the rotting garments: a rusted mail shirt that half fell apart in his hands, a knife, a decaying leather belt, a plain under-tunic, and a tabard marked with the remains of a black lion "Some poor coo," said the old Lion

"Who’s there?" de his head back as if he’d heard so the obsidian round, Gerulf’s dead nephew jerked as though a demon had poured itself into hiht

Ivar cried out, but he could not hear his own voice His throat muscles strained as he forced out air Blue fire blinded hi him sideways, and he tumbled to his knees, but no earthat eed smile walked toward him over a carpet of brilliant fire with her ar for any lifeline

Touched her hands

And knew nothing more

PART ONE

THE FLOWER

TRAIL

I

THE HALLOWED ONE

1