crept over the carpets.
"Innowen?"
He turned away from the shutters at the sound of his name. His guardian stared at him from the pillow, smiling weakly.
"Drushen!" he exclaimed, hurrying to the bedside. He hugged the old man and leaned his head on Drushen's chest. "I was afraid when you wouldn't wake up. But you're all right! This is a night of miracles!"
Drushen's voice was barely audible. "Miracles?" he managed. Then he touched Innowen's leg. Though his eyes were filmed and bleary, they suddenly lit up with wonder.
"Yes!" Innowen laughed, springing up and spinning on his heel. "I can walk! The Witch made it possible. She healed you, too." He slapped his thighs. "Drushen, she's such a beautiful lady, and she made me a whole man!" Joyful tears began to leak down his face.
Drushen struggled up onto one elbow and swung a leg over the side of the bed. Tears misted his eyes, too, as he rose and reached for Innowen. "The gods!" he cried. "Thank the gods!" He flung up his arms.
But Innowen caught his old friend's arms and pulled them down to his sides and intertwined Drushen's fingers in his own. It startled him as he realized suddenly that he was as tall as Drushen, and he bit his lip. "Stop," he said. "It wasn't any of the gods we know. It was the Witch and some strange god from another land." He swallowed, abruptly fearful. What if the gods were listening? He knew little about Ispor's gods, but he knew all gods were jealous. Still, he dared to continue. "It is to that god I owe thanks, not to the gods of Ispor who made me lame."
Drushen looked at him oddly. "Witch?" He shook his head slowly. "What are you ranting about, boy? I dreamed of fire in my veins and a cool storm. There were voices. But a witch? The Witch of Shanalane?" They regarded each other uncertainly, and Drushen's face clouded over. Abruptly, though, he brightened again and caught Innowen in a fierce embrace. "I don't understand, but it doesn't matter. You can walk! Praise whatever god for it!"
They held each other for a long moment until Drushen sagged back onto the bed. Innowen remembered that the Witch had said he would be weak when he awoke. And hungry. He went into the other room and hurried back with the platters Taelyn had left.
Drushen waved them away. "I'm too happy to eat," he said, his voice only a whisper. "Perhaps later. But throw back those shutters, child. It's nearly morning. Let me see the first light of day."
Innowen obeyed, pushing open the shutters as far as they would go. The faintest hint of dawn colored the horizon. The sun promised to rise right in their window. They would watch it together.
For the first time in my life, Innowen thought, I will greet the day on my feet.
Slowly, the sun climbed over the edge of the world, spreading its brilliant fire. Never had it seemed brighter or lovelier. Higher and higher it floated. Drushen reached out, caught Innowen's hand, and gave it an affectionate squeeze.
The sun sailed higher, chasing away the last vestiges of night. It bathed Innowen's face with a fine warmth that spread like a rich wave over his naked chest, down his stomach, down to his legs.
Suddenly, Innowen folded like a broken puppet, striking his head sharply on the floor. With a small, despairing cry he blinked away the red starflashes that filled his vision. He tried to get up.
"No!" he screamed when his legs refused to move.
Drushen dropped down beside him, placing his arms around the boy. The fear in his gaze mirrored Innowen's own. His lower lip trembled as he tried to pull Innowen to his feet.
"They won't move, Drushen!" Innowen whispered, staring in horror at his useless limbs. "I can't move them."
Taelyn rushed into the room in his nightshirt. Minarik appeared moments later still in his wet riding garments. Together, they helped Drushen lift him onto his own bed.
"What happened to the boy?" Minarik asked, getting no answer from Drushen. Taelyn only shrugged. Innowen clutched at Drushen's arm and pulled him
"Innowen?"
He turned away from the shutters at the sound of his name. His guardian stared at him from the pillow, smiling weakly.
"Drushen!" he exclaimed, hurrying to the bedside. He hugged the old man and leaned his head on Drushen's chest. "I was afraid when you wouldn't wake up. But you're all right! This is a night of miracles!"
Drushen's voice was barely audible. "Miracles?" he managed. Then he touched Innowen's leg. Though his eyes were filmed and bleary, they suddenly lit up with wonder.
"Yes!" Innowen laughed, springing up and spinning on his heel. "I can walk! The Witch made it possible. She healed you, too." He slapped his thighs. "Drushen, she's such a beautiful lady, and she made me a whole man!" Joyful tears began to leak down his face.
Drushen struggled up onto one elbow and swung a leg over the side of the bed. Tears misted his eyes, too, as he rose and reached for Innowen. "The gods!" he cried. "Thank the gods!" He flung up his arms.
But Innowen caught his old friend's arms and pulled them down to his sides and intertwined Drushen's fingers in his own. It startled him as he realized suddenly that he was as tall as Drushen, and he bit his lip. "Stop," he said. "It wasn't any of the gods we know. It was the Witch and some strange god from another land." He swallowed, abruptly fearful. What if the gods were listening? He knew little about Ispor's gods, but he knew all gods were jealous. Still, he dared to continue. "It is to that god I owe thanks, not to the gods of Ispor who made me lame."
Drushen looked at him oddly. "Witch?" He shook his head slowly. "What are you ranting about, boy? I dreamed of fire in my veins and a cool storm. There were voices. But a witch? The Witch of Shanalane?" They regarded each other uncertainly, and Drushen's face clouded over. Abruptly, though, he brightened again and caught Innowen in a fierce embrace. "I don't understand, but it doesn't matter. You can walk! Praise whatever god for it!"
They held each other for a long moment until Drushen sagged back onto the bed. Innowen remembered that the Witch had said he would be weak when he awoke. And hungry. He went into the other room and hurried back with the platters Taelyn had left.
Drushen waved them away. "I'm too happy to eat," he said, his voice only a whisper. "Perhaps later. But throw back those shutters, child. It's nearly morning. Let me see the first light of day."
Innowen obeyed, pushing open the shutters as far as they would go. The faintest hint of dawn colored the horizon. The sun promised to rise right in their window. They would watch it together.
For the first time in my life, Innowen thought, I will greet the day on my feet.
Slowly, the sun climbed over the edge of the world, spreading its brilliant fire. Never had it seemed brighter or lovelier. Higher and higher it floated. Drushen reached out, caught Innowen's hand, and gave it an affectionate squeeze.
The sun sailed higher, chasing away the last vestiges of night. It bathed Innowen's face with a fine warmth that spread like a rich wave over his naked chest, down his stomach, down to his legs.
Suddenly, Innowen folded like a broken puppet, striking his head sharply on the floor. With a small, despairing cry he blinked away the red starflashes that filled his vision. He tried to get up.
"No!" he screamed when his legs refused to move.
Drushen dropped down beside him, placing his arms around the boy. The fear in his gaze mirrored Innowen's own. His lower lip trembled as he tried to pull Innowen to his feet.
"They won't move, Drushen!" Innowen whispered, staring in horror at his useless limbs. "I can't move them."
Taelyn rushed into the room in his nightshirt. Minarik appeared moments later still in his wet riding garments. Together, they helped Drushen lift him onto his own bed.
"What happened to the boy?" Minarik asked, getting no answer from Drushen. Taelyn only shrugged. Innowen clutched at Drushen's arm and pulled him
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