budge

They did not light a fire—Simon had to admit he could see the wisdom of that—but instead shared some water and a little wine by moonlight, and gnawed on a bit of Miriamele's bread. When they had wrapped themselves in their cloaks and were lying side by side on their bedrolls, Simon suddenly found that his weariness had fled—in fact, he did not feel the least bit sleepy. He listened, but although Miriamele's breathing was quiet and regular, she did not sound like she was sleeping either. Somewhere in the trees, a lone cricket was gently sawing away. "Miriamele?" "What?" "You really should tell me where we're going. I would do better as your protector. I could think about it and make plans." She laughed quietly. "I'm certain that's true. 1 will tell you, Simon. But not tonight." He frowned as he stared up at the stars peeping through the branches. "Very well." "You should go to sleep now. It will be harder to do once the sun is up." Did all women have a little Rachel the Dragon in them?

They certainly seemed to enjoy telling him what he should do. He opened his mouth to tell her he didn't need any rest just yet, but yawned instead. He was trying to remember what he had meant to say even as he passed over into sleep. In the dream Simon stood on the edge of a great sea. Extending from the beach before him was a thin causeway of land that extended out right through the teeth of the waves, leading to an island some long distance offshore. The island was bare except for three tall white towers which shimmered in the late afternoon sun, but the towers were not what interested Simon. Walking on the island before them, passing in and out of their threefold shadow, was a tiny figure with white hair and a blue robe. Simon was certain it was Doctor Morgenes. He was considering the causeway—it would be easy enough to walk across, but the tide was growing higher, and soon might cover the thin spit of land entirely—when he heard a distant voice. Out on the ocean, midway between the island and the rocky shoal where Simon stood, a small boat was rocking and bobbing in the grip of strong waves. Two figures stood in the boat, one tall and solid, the other small and slender. It took a few moments to recognize Geloe and Leieth. The woman was calling something to him, but her voice was lost in the roar of the sea. What are they doing out in a boat? Simon thought. It will be night soon. He moved a few steps out onto the slender causeway. Geloe's voice wafted to him across the waves, barely audible. “... False!" she cried. "It's false!... " What is false? he wondered. The spit of land? It seemed solid enough. The island itself? He squinted, but although the sun had now dropped low on the horizon, turning the towers into black fingers and the shape of Morgenes into something small and dark as an ant, the island seemed indisputably substantial. He took another few steps forward. "False!" Geloe cried again. The sky abruptly turned dark, and the roar of the waves was overwhelmed by the cry of rising wind. In an instant the ocean turned blue and then blue-white; suddenly, all the waves stiffened, freezing into hard, sharp points of ice. Geloe waved her arms desperately, but the sea around her boat surged and cracked. Then with a roar and an outwash of black water as alive as blood, Geloe, Leieth, and the boat disappeared beneath the frozen waves, sucked down into darkness. Ice was creeping up over the causeway. Simon turned, but it was now as far back to the beach as it was toward the island, and both points seemed to be receding from him, leaving him stranded in the middle of an everlengthening spit of rock. The ice mounted higher, crawling up to his boots... Simon jerked awake, shivering. Thin dawn light filled the copse and the trees swayed to a chill breeze. His cloak was curled in a hopeless tangle around his knees, leaving the rest of him uncovered. He straightened the cloak and lay back. Miriamete was still asleep beside him, her mouth partially open, her golden hair pushed out of shape. He felt a wave of longing pass over and through him, and at the same time a sense of shame.