ws grabbed hold of his arm and dragged him off the feathered wing of his Pegasus, then turned him onto his stomach.  His claws sank into her forearms above her Cats Claws, so deeply that blood poured to the ash-choked ground in rivulets as Tarrins wicked claws embedded themselves in her flesh, but she did not even flinch.  Grab his feet! Mist ordered sharply.  Kimmie moved to obey, but Azakar reached him first, his powerful hands clamping on Tarrins ankles as his arms flexed to resist any sudden convulsive kicks, his face a stoic mask.  Outside of Kimmie, Azakar was probably the only one who had the raw power to succeed in that task.
	But no convulsions came.  The pressure taken from his wings, the sharp stabs eased, and the relief flowed through him.  His claws retracted from his mates arms, and he suddenly felt weak as a kitten.
	Is he well? Lorak asked calmly.
	No, hes bloody not well! Kimmie shouted at him angrily.  Hes injured!  We should have stopped!
	The fault is his, Lorak shrugged.  All he had to do was speak.  And since no one spoke in his stead, he added, sweeping his gaze across them, then I would guess that you didnt think he needed to stop either.
	Kimmies face flushed guiltily, and she raced over to help her bond-mother pull Tarrin off the ground.
	The cobwebs clearing from his mind, he slid up onto his knees, then sat back on his haunches.  He put his paw to his head, then shook it as the last of the pain bled away, leaving him coherent again.  Im alright, he announced in a weak voice.
	That didnt look very alright to me, Mist grated at him.
	Just drop it, Mist, he grunted.  Just someone find me something to eat and let me sleep.  Ill be fine.
	Lets get  the tents up, Haley called, putting a scarf around his face to protect it from the falling ash.
	No tents.  They take too long to pack, Lorak called.
	Fine.  You can lay in this ashfall and get a volcano up your nose, but Im pitching a tent, Haley told him calmly.  Or do you want to sit on your horse and keep the ash off us all night? he offered in a reasonable tone.
	Lorak blinked, then he chuckled.  Point well taken.  We will have to make time, I suppose.
	Not all of us have tents, Thren fretted.
	I know a spell that creates a magical one, one of the human Wizards with them called, a youngish fellow with red hair and pale skin that seemed to be permanently burned by the wind and sun, who was named Kord.  Kord didnt look much like a Wizard, because he was built like a Dal, with wide shoulders, a barrel chest, and arms corded with thick muscle.  Kord looked more physically imposing than anything else.  He wore a simple brown robe, but left it unbelted and open in the front, and underneath it he wore a brown wool tunic and leather breeches.  Itll be big enough for us all.
	I say, so long as it leaves no magical impression, itd be safe enough, Phandebrass told him.  Demons can sense magic, so it cant be active, it cant.
	Well, then its not a good one, Kord frowned.
	Men, Shara grunted.  Och, just pitch yuir cloak over the top half of yuir bedroll and weight the sides down with stones, an face the opening away from the wind.  Yon quiver there has plenty of arrows in it ta serve as poles.  The ash willna blow in.
	Clever, Miranda nodded in agreement.
	As most of them worked to set up the camp site, Tarrin sat on the ground, cross-legged, slumped over so far his elbows were on the ash-choked grass.  Mist and Kimmie checked him in turns, but they didnt stay with him, because there was really nothing that they could do.  Sarraya and Fireflash did, however, Fireflash sitting on the ground beside him as Sarraya walked back and forth on his back, inspecting his destroyed wings carefully.  You know, Tarrin, I think theyve grown back a little, she told him.  This piece and that piece were torn back closer to the arch of your wing this morning.  Theyve sewn themselves back together a little.
	I really couldnt say, Tarrin told her.  I cant see them, and they dont feel any different to me.
	I wish I could do something for you, Sarraya said sincerely.  Even if it really didnt do that much.  She walked back towards his neck.  Hmm, maybe there is something we can do, she mused aloud.  Fireflash, come up here a second.
	Fireflash looked up at her.
	No, up here.  I need you to do something for me.
	He snorted derisively.
	Alright, not for me, for Tarrin.  Sheesh, she huffed.  You cant still be mad.
	He snorted, a hint of greenish gas billowing from his nostrils.
	Alright, alright, Im sorry, she growled.  I wont get you back.  I promise.
	Dont trust her, Tarrin warned.  She may mean it now, but shell forget all about that promise in about an hour.
	Tarrin! Sarraya snapped.
	Truth is truth, Tarrin said absently.
	Well, do it from down there, then.  Let me move, then blast Tarrins wings with your fire.  I want to see if it makes the pain go away.
	Fireflash looked at Tarrin expectantly, and the Were-cat shrugged.  It cant possibly hurt me, he told his drake.  You know that.
	Fireflash nodded.
	Oh, dont use up all your gas, Tarrin noted quietly.  She might try something if she thinks you cant gas her.
	Grroah! Sarraya growled in a squeaky voice, stamping her foot on Tarrins back.
	See?  She thought of that too, Tarrin said with a slight smile at his drake.
	Fireflash nodded to Tarrin with an impish look on his scaly face, then backed up a step.  He sucked in his breath, then lunged his head up and forward.  A brilliant gout of bright red flame erupted from his mouth, spiralling around itself to form a concentrated cone.  That cone of fire washed over his left wing, and it actually did feel somewhat better.  The pain eased noticably, at least so long as Fireflash kept the fire going.  When he stopped, the pain slowly started creeping back into it.
	Did it help? Sarraya asked, looking over his shoulder down at Fireflash.
	A little, he answered honestly, as the drake released another puff of greenish gas, then stared up at the Faerie deliberately.
	Sarraya growled in her throat, then pulled up out of the drakes sight.  We should build a nice fire and let you sit in it, she mused, touching the base of his left wing gingerly.  Even that light touch sent a shiver of pain through him.
	What made you think of that?
	I remember what happened when the sword came back to you, she answered.  It surrounded you in fire to try to heal you.  Fire is your element, Tarrin.  It just stands to reason youll feel better if youre surrounded by it.
	What is this?  Analytical thinking?  Logic?  Reasoned and controlled conclusions?  Is that Sarraya on my back, or an evil copy?
	Im not a total ditz! she objected.
	No, just mostly, he answered.
	You! she snapped.  Why do I even bother?
	Because you love me, he answered evenly.
	Well, thats true, she said with a chuckle, patting his back gently.  Im not sure we can make a fire, though.  Were supposed to be hiding, you know.
	This ash is thick enough, the light wont go ten paces, Mist said as she passed by.  Ill get on it right now.
	Mist did just that.  Lorak objected strenuously to the idea of a fire, but he learned the first rule of interacting with Phandebrass friendsnever make Mist angry.  Shara managed to heal the fracture in his jaw, and regrow the three teeth that Mist knocked out after Lorak put a hand on her, teeth that Mist collected up in her paw and kept for some strange reason.  The Elementalist looked about ready to use magic against her, but quick words from Phandebrass, who pulled him aside and spoke very quickly and very quietly, headed that idea off.
	Give me a hand here, Kimmie, Mist ordered.  Light this wood, then help me bring Tarrin to the fire.
	Ill get burned, Kimmie protested.
	Get my belt.  Sarraya, where did you put it?
	I gave it back to Miranda, she answered from Tarrins back.
	What good will your belt do? she asked.
	Tarrin made it for me.  Put it on and you wont get burned.
	Youll need it, mother.
	She shook her head.  He did the same thing to my amulet before we went to Pyros.  Ill be safe.  That belt gives us four people who cant be hurt by fire.
	Miranda handed the belt to Kimmie, who donned it just before using a simple spell to light the fire.  It quickly burned up to a respectable blaze, then Mist and Kimmie took Tarrins arms and helped him over to the fire.  Instead of sitting or standing directly in it, Tarrin sat at its edge and leaned back just enough to allow his wings to make contact with the flames.   The fire immediately pulled towards him, ghosting up his back like phantom fingers, coalescing around his injured wings.  The pain immediately eased, which caused tense muscles to relax, and he sighed in relieved contentment.  The flames were like a hundred massaging hands that caressed the pain away, and for the first time all day, he was almost comfortable.
	Better, my mate? Mist asked.
	Yes, he answered.  Sarraya actually came up with a good idea.
	You make it sounds like its never happened before, Sarraya fumed from Zyris shoulder.
	The problem is that all your good ideas get lost in the avalanche of silliness, Tarrin answered her, leaning back on his paws, putting most of his back and the back of his head into the fire.
	Now that is something you just dont see, Lorak chuckled as he came to the fire.  Doesnt that hurt?
	It stopped hurting years ago, Tarrin answered.  Me and Dolanna are immune to fire, its a side effect of our ability to use our magic.
	I know any number of Fire adepts who would kill for that, Lorak told him.  Of all the Elemental arts, thats the most dangerous.
	Well, you are a bit different from me in that regard, dear one, Dolanna said with a slight smile.  I would like to inspect your wings, if you do not object.  I promise I will try to be gentle.
	They dont hurt right now, he told her.
	Yes, but I am not sure if they will remain thus when I start touching them, she reminded him.
	True.  Go ahead.
	As the others prepared for some rest, Dolanna rolled up her sleeves and put her hands into the fire, inspecting Tarrins wings.  Her touch didnt hurt, but it wasnt entirely pleasant, like fingers sliding over raw skin.  She inspected the tattered remains of his wings methodically and thoroughly, then had him try to move them, but with no success.
	It is as I suspected, she said in a brusque manner.
	What? Tarrin asked.
	Your wings are still evaporating.
	What?  I thought you said Mist began, but Dolanna cut her off with a hand.
	Parts of them still are, she said sharply.  But the main sections of them, the top arch where bones would be in a birds wing, she informed them as she touched the top arch of his wing, are mending, and very quickly.  I think that your wings are excising those parts that cannot be saved and concentrating on rebuilding themselves from the core.  I suspect that after they have healed the main arch, they will begin working on regrowing the body.
	Then its not evaporating, Miranda mused.  Its just pulling wing from one place and using it to patch another.  Dont forget Dolanna, those arent real wings.  It needs to do that anyway.  Tarrin looks like he has monster cobwebs growing out of his back.
	Thanks, Tarrin said dryly, which made the Wikuni give him a cheeky grin.
	Everyone needs to get some rest, Lorak called.  We have a long way to go.
	Go take a nap, Mist, Tarrin told his mate.  Ill be fine.
	I wont leave you, she stated bluntly.
	Theres nothing you can do, Im actually quite content right now, and you need to sleep, he said.  Im going to lay back and take a nap.  You need to do the same.
	But
	But nothing, he said with a hint of sternness in his voice.  Sleep.  Now.  He pointed towards the tent that Azakar and Ulger had just finished raising.
	Mist lowered her eyes, then nodded.  As you wish, my mate.  Come, cubs, she said, holding her paw out to Zyri and Jal.  Lets get you put down.  You need all the sleep you can get.  She looked back at him.  Are you sure
	Go, he said, pointing at the tent.  Dont make me get up and spank you.  Ill be in a very bad mood.
	Mist smiled slightly, then leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips before marching off to the tent with the children in tow.  Kimmie stood up herself, then chuckled.  I forgot you could do the impossible, she told him.
	What?
	Make mother obey someone,  she said with a wink.  You sure youre alright?
	Im just fine.  You need to get some rest too, Kimmie.  You may not remember it, but you had a very exhausting few days.  Even Mirandas healings not going to fix it all.  You need some sleep.
	Yeah, she already warned me that I needed to get some sleep, she nodded.  Rest well, dear.
	Ill be fine as long as I dont move, and Im not moving any time soon, he told her.
	She gave him another smile, then got up and went to the tent.
	Tarrin laid back, wriggling just a bit to shift the coals and burning wood around so it didnt jab at him, then drew in a breath laced with flame and smoke, then sighed in contentment.  Breathing inside fire wasnt exactly good since it put smoke and cinders into his lungs, but he never seemed to have much trouble with it, for some reason.  The fire soothed the pain of his wings, and that was worth breathing acrid-smelling air for a little while.  The sound of it consuming the wood was serene, calming him, and the presence of the element of which he was part, which was part of him, helped along the mending of his wounded wings, and the injured power that they represented.
	After all, the wings were but a metaphor for the true injury he had suffered at the hands of the One, even as the blow that Mist struck to his icon was but a metaphor for the actual damage that she had meted out against it.  In the world of the gods, metaphor was a powerful symbol as a way for the material world to rationalize the immaterial power that gods wielded within it.  What one saw was only a representation of what was really going on.  Even with his wings, it was a metaphor.  The physical representation of them had been damaged, a metaphor of the real injury he had received, and even their healing was nothing but a metaphor for the mending taking place within him.  He could feel that part of himself drawing in the power of the fire around him, using that energy, that power, to help restore the delicate matrix of divine energies that was his power.
	Odd, that.  Ever since hed gotten the wings, he had hidden from the power they represented, hated it, denied it.  If he could separate himself from it and be a mortal again, he would do it in a heartbeat.  But he had come here, to this new world, and had come to depend on that powereven to enjoy it.  It had expanded, become stronger, and he had learned to use it in new ways.  It had saved Zyri, Jal, and Telven, then saved them again when Telven betrayed them.  It rose up and achieved its full potential when he fought the One over Kimmie, and though it had been found lacking, it had done enough.
	He was mortal, but had the powers of a god.  The others didnt understand what that meantwell, Miranda certainly did.  She was the only one who understood what it made him, and she empathized with him more than the others.  She too was a singularly unique being, and she had had to learn what that meant when she left Keritanima and Wikuna and embarked on a journey of self-discovery.  But where Miranda had a place in the world, Tarrin did not.  He was a walking abomination, something that should not exist, something that the Elder Gods back home would sooner destroy than have around.  But as this world had seen, a direct confrontation between Tarrin and a god could have disastrous effect on the very fabric of reality itself.  Even hobbled, only able to focus his power in the physical world, Tarrin had managed to do catastrophic damage to the land itself.  Had Tarrin been able to wield a gods true power, his conflict with the One could have devastated the land for leagues in every direction.
	He couldnt remember the battle, but he had visited the twenty longspan hole in the world that his battle with Val had created in Gora Umadar.  It was a veritable sea of boiling lava, which would churn and bubble and remain exposed to the air for the rest of eternity, for there was a lingering remnant of the power that was unleashed at that place that would never allow the land to heal.  It was a scar, a blight, a curse on the very fabric of reality itself, and not even the Elder Gods could repair it.  It would remain a boiling lake of lava until time was no more, and all things ceased to be.
	That was what happened when gods fought one another in the material plane.  That was why the Elder Gods could take no direct action against him.  They feared exactly what had happened at Pyrosor what used to be Pyros.
	And here he was, using the power he had vowed to himself he would never use against a god that sought to destroy him as some kind of sick, twisted spectacle to incite more loyalty and worship from the mortals under his dominion.  Tarrin could feel him out there even now, feverishly laboring to restore his icon, an icon buried under a mountain of volcanic rock, ash, and lava, wrapped in the fiery cocoon of the earths blood, awaiting the moment it was whole once more and could burst forth the Ones power back into the world.  The One was not an Elemental god, he could not draw on the power of the fire around him to accelerate his healing as Tarrin could.  All the One could do was try to communicate to his Priests, probably through the Demons, that more worship was needed, more adulation, for that was the power that the One would use to heal his damaged icon.
	It wasnt supposed to be this way.  Tarrin closed his eyes and concentrated on what he felt deep inside him, concentrated on that power he always strove mightily to ignore.  He could sense the wound, and he could also sense that that power, which always worked of its own volition it seemed, was currently busily at work mending the damage.  He could feel the energy in the fire that surrounded him infuse his being, bolster the power within, grant to it its power so that it could be used to heal the damage done.  This was his power.  This was what he was.  And it was both what he did not want to be, and what he had feared he would become.  He had used his full power in direct conflict with a god.  He had ravaged the land, he had destroyed an entire city.  He had become everything that the Elder Gods were afraid he would become.  He had become the Aleax, the embodiment of the power of Chaos, the dark manifestation of the power of the animus.  A force of primal destruction, which only sought to unmake all and revert the multiverse back into the state of Entropy from which it had been formed.
	And they had been right.
	Though he lacked the remorselessness of the Demons, he had become no better than them.  They sought to rule through destruction.  Tarrin, it seemed, could not help but destroy, even when he did not want to.  Every time he exercised his power, he brought about ruination and devastation, no matter how hard he tried not to.  Well, that wasnt entirely true.  Tarrin never exercised his power unless he was angry, and when he was angry, he simply didnt care.  That was most of the reason why he was so afraid of it.  He had doomed Pyros for no other reason than to give Mist the opportunity to finish the task the had been unable to complete.
	He could sense them out there.  The fire was expanding his consciousness, making him more in touch with the divine aspect of his being.  Even injured, he could still use those senses.  The world lost its reality to his eyes, to his ears, and became overlaid with sounds and sights and smells and sensations that a mortal couldnt comprehend, a humming continuity of wellness that beat like the heart of a child, surging through this dimension.  It was the soul of this universe, the manifestation of the Elder God who had been created to oversee this dimension, a soul that seemed to be in hibernation.  He could feel it out there, present but unresponsive, almost as if it was a power without conscious direction.  There were other concentrations, other points of dichotomy that were made aware to him.  He could sense the dark shadow of the One not far away, an immensely poweful presence hovering over his icon, and he could feel the rage and fury like an acid taste on his tongue.  There were other presences on this world as well, and even one a great distance above himthe god of the Elara most likely.  All of them were very weak, very distant, and all of them seemed to be trying to reach out to him, trying to make contact with him.  All of them were desperate, terrified, almost panicked, even the stronger sense of presence coming from the god whose domain was so high above them.
	Why?  Why contact him?  And why were they so afraid?
	The One, of course.  Tarrin was a being of divine power who didnt depend on the faith of the mortals to survive, just like an Elder god.  They had probably been hoping for exactly what happened, that Tarrin would fight the One and hopefully destroy him.  But it hadnt been a victory for either side, more like an aggravated stalemate that put their battle on hold until one of them was well enough to take it up once more.  Whoever healed first was going to defeat the other, by striking before the other could defend against it.  Tarrins arrival to those other gods was probably looked upon as a gift from the God of Gods, a savior who would face and defeat the One before he eradicated the mortals who followed them.
	He was no savior.  He would have came and went without interference, had the One not made the eternal mistake of abducting Kimmie.  That was a fatal mistake, for now Tarrin was angry.  And it wasnt rage, it was the cold, seething anger of the human in him, an icy fury that was in its own way ten times more dangerous than the volatile temper of the Cat.  It gave him a clarity of purpose that would not be denied, and that was to mete out righteous punishment on the One for daring to lay a hand on one of his mates.  Tarrin would hunt down the One, no matter how long it took, and finish himbecause now it was personal.
	Those were worries for another time, though.  Right now, healing himself was the primary objective, so he closed his eyes and bent to the task.  The main focus right now should be minimizing the pain that was making him a burden, keeping them from moving as fast as they needed to move.  So that was where he began.

	The hours in the fire had done a world of good, for when he removed himself from it, his wings had an entirely different look.  The ragged remnants no longer dangled from the top arch like cobwebs, for they were gone.  The main arches of his wings were now whole, like the bones from which the rest of the wing would sprout, two slender spikes of living fire jutting from his back.  Though he could not move them yet, they were locked in a folded position, the majority of the pain was gone.  There was only a dull, nagging ache, as his wings had consumed much of what was causing the pain and used that material to rebuild the main arches.  When he left the fire, he found he could move without pain, only that dull ache in them was there, and that pain was easily controlled.  He felt an entire world better.
	He felt so much better than he actually picked up Zyri and twirled her a couple of times in the air when she came out of the tent, making the girl squeal in surprise.  Good morning, he told her brightly.  Sleep well?
	Master Tarrin!  Youre feeling better! she said happily.
	I am indeed, little bit, he told her.  And I told you before
	I know, she sighed, then she giggled when he tapped her nose with a huge finger.  Your wings look better.
	They are, he answered.  Most of the pain is gone.  They just ache now, and thats not bad at all.  Wheres Mist?
	She and Mistress Miranda are off talking, she answered, pointing out into the ashfall, which still was thick in the air.  Everyone else is still sleeping.
	Not everyone, Ulger called in amusement from the far side of the three tents that were erected.  Good to see hear up and about.  Up to riding?
	Im fine, he answered.  Just some dull aching, nothing I cant easily ignore.  Hows Kimmie?
	She looked fine last I saw her, he answered.  Shes probably still asleep.  Well have to wake up and get moving soon though.
	Demons?
	Actually, just soldiers, he answered, scratching his cheek just below the wicked scar marring it.  Ive heard them ride by several times.  This black fog wont let you see more than ten spans in front of you, so they havent seen us.
	So much the better for us.
	Aye.
	How long was I asleep?
	About six hours, he answered.  I was about to start waking everyone up.  Want me to go find Mist and Miranda?
	No need, he said with a wave of his paw.  They know Im awake.
	Tarrin picked up Jal after he came out of the tent and, with a child in each arm, he went back over to the fire and sat down.  Fireflash flew from the tent and landed on his shoulder, nuzzling his neck, and Tarrin suddenly felt very sedate and content.  I figure well just grab something quick to eat before starting out, Tarrin mused, then he chuckled as Jal gingerly touched his wings.  Theyre better, they dont hurt anymore, he told the boy.  How are you?
	Jal smiled shyly, and patted his shoulder.
	Thats good to hear.  What do you think of the Shadows?
	He raised his eyes slightly.
	Theyre just like you.  Give them a chance.  They might be able to teach you more than I can.  They know how your power works, after all.  Im just guessing.
	He shrugged, the pointed his small finger in Tarrins face.
	Well see.  As you know, Im none too fond of strangers.
	I would hope that youd think different of us, Lorak stated calmly as he came out of a tent.  Are you feeling well?
	Well enough, he answered.  And to me, everyone is a stranger unless theyve been with me a while.  Im sure Phandebrass took quite a bit of time to explain some things to you while I was sleeping.
	He did.
	Then Im sure you understand what not to do, he said bluntly.  Just remember, Lorak, I do not take orders.  Youll only try once.
	Yes, I discovered that little racial aspect from your mate, he said, rubbing his jaw absently.
	Then we understand one another, he said, standing up with both children.  You can teach Jal how to use his power, cant you?
	I cant, Lorak said calmly.  Hes a Water adept.  He needs to be taught by someone of his own element.  Water adepts are fairly rare, though, we dont have one with us.  But when we join up with others, Im sure there will be one among them.  He can instruct the boy.  Now if you will excuse me, I have to get everything ready.
	They watched him go back into the tent, and Tarrin turned back to the fire.  Jal, his eyes glittering in the light, held out a hand and caused a rod of ice to form in his hand.  Again, Tarrin felt an odd tingling when he did that.  He held out the icy dowel, adding to it, until it became a startling likeness of the Elara, then wiggled it back and forth in a fair imitation of Loraks flowing stride.
	Jal!  Be nice, Tarrin admonished in a low voice, as Zyri giggled with her hand over her mouth.
	After a cold breakfast, and after he got the expected examination from Dolanna, Mist, and Kimmie, they started out once again.  This time Tarrin was alert and well, with only a minor dull ache in his wings that was no problem at all for him to ignore, falling back on Allias training in how to ignore pain.  He rode with his bow in his lap, for almost twice an hour they had to stop and allow Lorak to hide them as soldiers galloped by, or Demons flapped overhead.  They rode as fast as they dared in the thick black ashfall, but as it started to thin after several hours of riding, they started going faster and faster.  It was impossible to tell time in that endless blackness, but when it started to thin, as they started getting out from under the ashfall, the faint white disc of the sun started showing high in the sky.  Phaugh, noon, Ulger growled.  We must have got up and started moving at midnight.
	Were moving into a large region of farmland, Lorak told them.  The roads here are small and winding.  There is little in the way of cover, so were going to be spotted quickly after this ash cloud lifts.
	Then we just go faster than they do, Haley said lightly.
	Lorak gave him a cool look, but said nothing.
	Open farmland?  That should be fast movement, Miranda mused.
	It was indeed.  As the ash cleared and they could see further, they picked up the pace, until they were doing a brisk canter through neat rows of low farm crops.  They moved in a straight line until a fence got in the way, then, more often than not, Lorak simply knocked it down with his Elemental magic.  Farmers watched the horses and Pegasi plow through their crops with slack-jawed astonishment or dark glares, but did nothing to interfere.  Tarrin kept his eyes open and kept scanning the skies, looking for the large silhouette that would be a vrock, the churchs primary airborne scout.  He kept his bow in his lap and an arrow nocked half the time, ready for whatever might come.  They continued to move north, out of the ashfall, until they had finally broken out from under that black cloud.  Lorak no longer had to protect them from breathing in the ash with his magic, and they could again see without the ash reducing visibility.  They finally rode over land that wasnt ankle-deep in gritty ash, and the smell of sulfur finally cleared out of Tarrins nose.  Getting out of the ash was a relief, but it also lent itself to a new set of problems, for it could no longer hide them from the soldiers of the One.
	Around sunset, his diligent scanning of the skies paid off.  The outline of a vrock appeared from the ash behind them, moving towards them in almost a perfect straight line.  Tarrin reined in his mount and turned it, then quickly nocked an arrow, set his legs around his Pegasus to keep it from fidgeting, and drew his bow in a smooth motion.  The magical bo