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Written by Walker Boh, Amberle, Lady Mareth, and Risca

.....Walker Boh managed to get to the food stores without any problems, if you could consider the fact that it was getting harder to think clearly as problem-less. In fact, for a brief moment Walker couldn't remember why he was in the store room to begin with. Until his stomach contracted so violently that he doubled over in pain.

.....He opened a case containing cheese and wolfed down a quarter of its contents. Then he found some bread and ate that too. He was to the point now that he could no longer fit anything in his stomach, but he still felt starved!

.....The he forgot what the word starved meant. Shortly thereafter he forgot his name. What the heck--?

.....Conscious thought left his capability and he stood upright. No longer in total control of his body. He walked, somewhat stiff-legged, to the door. Only his instincts allowed him to move, and he didn't even seem to be in control of those. There was only one conscious memory left to him.

....."Get to Mareth." it said.

.....He walked, but had no memory of where he walked from. Only the path ahead filled his mind.

.....He passed closed doors and empty hallways. No one saw the crazed look in his eyes or the furtive glances as he passed each door and turned each corner. No one saw him moving.

.....He got to the wing that contained Mareth's quarters and entered a room two doors down from it. Mareth wasn't in her quarters yet, but she would go there eventually.

....."Get to Mareth" Came the thought again.

.............................................................*..........*..........*

....."Well, everyone," Mareth began, "So far I have constructed one party! The members in this party will be Matty, Brin, and Marius, with Legolas leading. If you are in this group and have any objections, I am sorry, but this is where you will be going. I haven't received word about the other four groups yet, but once I do, I will announce it. I would like the four of you in Legolas's to speak with Kahle about your mission. My plans for you are to go to about a mid-point between Tyrsis and Kern, and then the group will split. Two to Tyrsis, and two to Kern. Each little separate group will talk to the royalty and see if they will help us. That is the plan, but things may change after speaking to Kahle.

....."I hope others of you will decide to group yourselves with either someone of the Paranor Guard or some other Druid. Also, Greylark will be going to the Troll Nation, and I do believe Cephelo will be joining him, is that correct, Cephelo? We need two more people to join them as well as more groups to go to the Gnomes, Elves and Dwarves.

....."Oh yes! One more thing. Walker Boh will be heading the group who goes to Culhaven. If there are any people who would wish to go there? We need three people to join him. This day and night have been very hectic, I think we should all go and freshen up a bit. If there are any requests please take them to Kahle. I'm going to go change my robes and clean up. If anyone needs to speak with me I'll be in my room for the next two hours.

....."Amberle I need to speak with you. So, if you wouldn't mind, I need you to go up to my quarters in about five minutes. If there is anyone who would like to talk to me, I would appreciate it if it could wait about one hour because I will be busy. Thank you all for listening and please organize yourselves and speak with Kahle. If you do not speak with him, then speak with Greylark or Walker. That way they'll know that you are interested in joining them. and don't forget to meet me in my quarters, Amberle!"

.....Mareth finished speaking and slowly exited the room, her hand at her side. As she walked she had a slight limp and almost fell several times on her way out. She slowly closed the door of the room behind her as the others watched her walk away.

.....She walked slowly down the halls of Paranor to reach her quarters. Mareth was thankful to finally be able to go take a bath and rid herself of the stench and taste of blood. She walked up and slowly opened her door, stepping in and looking around. She walked to her window and looked out shaking her head. Below she could see what the fighting had done.

....."What a shame!" she said to herself as she walked up to one of the servants attending to her room. "Can you get me a nice hot bath, please?"

....."Yes M'lady" the servant answered as she scurried off hurriedly. While she waited for her bath, Mareth thought about the recent events and pondered about whether or not they were going to win. Of course, she dismissed that thought quickly. The Druids always won their battles. Look at Allanon. He did a lot of things--by himself even. Perhaps with a little struggle, but always won.. would there be a difference now?

* * *

.....Walker Boh stood in the dark, swaying back and forth slightly. He no longer had any conscious thought that was his own, but he often had other thoughts that seemed to come from somewhere else. They were thoughts that this degenerated mind didn't comprehend, but they were thoughts full of ice-cold Evil. Only Mareth's name came from his own mind. Just her name. It was an obsession. It was the only thought he had left to remember himself.

.....If anyone could see him they would have seen someone that they would not have recognized. He was a skeletal figure now, bones protruding through his skin, his skin pale and sick looking. Fine sweat glistened all over his body. Rashes and other blemishes showed in the spots that his robes did not cover. His hands and feet were gnarled bunches of bone and skin, deformed and arthritic looking, yet they looked strong, like they could lift anything...or anyone, and break them easily.

.....One might say he looked like someone who suffered from a Famine--or maybe was Famine itself.

* * *

.....Amberle listened as Mareth spoke. So far, no one had said anything about her leaving the Keep, but she was glad to be back now. She only wished she could have been there to help the Healers. She sighed. She heard Mareth say something about needing a group to go to the Westland and the Elves. She could volunteer to join that party, she thought, after all, her father, Chebar, was a part of the Home Guard. She decided she would look into that.

.....Amberle snapped out of her reverie as she heard her name spoken.

....."Amberle, I need to speak with you. So if you wouldn't' mind I need you to go up to my quarters in about five minutes."

.....Amberle nodded in acknowledgment, paying attention to the rest of the High Druid's words. After Mareth had repeated her wish to see Amberle, she left the room, stumbling to the door. Amberle noticed she limped slightly, and was instantly concerned. After Mareth left, Amberle counted five minutes, then slipped out of the Council Room, making her way up to Mareth's quarters. Taking a deep breath and wondering why the High Druid wanted to see her, Amberle tentatively knocked on the wooden door.

* * *

.....Mareth heard a knock on her door. Opening it, she found it was Amberle.

....."Hello, Amberle! I need your help. I have decided of a group for you to be in and it's to go to Culhaven with Walker Boh, Andrea, and Pe Ell. I need you to gather them together. I can't seem to be able to find Walker, so I figured I'd have you do it. Is this all right with you?"

.....Amberle nodded, but Mareth continued speaking, seemingly not to have noticed.

....."He is the head, but I haven't seen him since the fight. I'm kind of worried. Oh well, I imagine he's probably asleep in his quarters. I hope this works out.

....."I have a question. What changed your mind? Into staying in Paranor, I mean?"

.....Amberle wasn't surprised by the question. She knew that someone would have asked it at one time or another. She sighed.

....."Well, I realized that I was being childish in not wanting the Druids to help me. I feared that I would hurt too many more people for me to be able to live with if I stayed and was as careless with my magic as I seemed to be at the time. Yet truthfully, why I left, why I came back, I do not know, only that once I had gotten so far away from the Keep, something told me to go back. Almost forced me to. A feeling that I was not where I was supposed to be, and that I was needed here. Although I came too late for my help to be of any assistance."

.....Amberle paused and looked Mareth down from head to toe, noticing that Mareth still held her side, and turned onto a different subject.

....."You are still in pain? Came near to death yourself, didn't you? I wasn't there to see." Amberle shook her head. "The strength in some people is amazing to me sometimes. I only wish I had similar strength."

.....Amberle removed a small vial from a pouch beneath her robes, holding it gently in her hands.

....."I do not know if you'd want it, but if you do, take it. It's an infusion of elderberry. It should lessen any pain you may have." Amberle smiled.

* * *

.....Noises in the hall. A knock at a door. Voices in a room. Mareth's room. She was there, it was time.

.....The thing hiding behind the door two rooms down from Mareth's room stopped swaying back and forth and shambled to the door. It wasn't Walker Boh anymore. It was something much different, yet would be familiar to such as Risca, Cephelo, Wren, Andrea, Wyld Wynds, and to Mareth. They had all seen this face recently. Even Walker had fought with the previous owner of this face.

.....It was Famine, one of the Four Horsemen.

.....How did it get here? Well, the foolish Druid Guard had made contact with it, and it had sent a part of its being into the recesses of Walker's subconscious. Its hunger had changed from starvation of food to starvation of death. It craved a death and it homed in on the once Walker Boh's last conscious thought.

.....Mareth.

.....Quietly the thing slipped out of the door and stalked down the hall. Farther down the other direction faint voices could be heard. One of the voices Famine recognized as the dwarf's voice. It did not recognize the other because Sephiros had entered the fight after the first Famine's death.

.....Silently it turned the knob of Mareth's chamber and slowly it pushed the door open. He saw Mareth instantly, still wincing in pain as she moved. There was another girl in there also, one it didn't recognize. Sensing that it didn't have much time, Famine-Boh charged in, suddenly full of speed.

.....With all the strength and speed it could muster it ran to the High Druid, arms coming up, hands reaching for her slender throat. It would suck the life and strength from her, using it to nourish itself.

* * *

.....Mareth took the vial from Amberle's hands. As she tilted the vial up to her lips she saw something running at her in the corner of her eye. It was one of the most hideous things she had ever seen...yet so familiar. Its hands came towards her in a rush.

.....Out of instinct she ducked quickly then turned around to see the thing stumble when it realized she wasn't there for it to grab at. She quickly took the vial in her hand and drank it down. Hopefully it would heal her enough to face this thing, but she had a feeling that it wouldn't. Not quickly enough at least.

* * *

.....Famine-Boh lunged, but Mareth was too fast and was out of the way in a flash. It let out a howl of rage and started after her again. This time it got her. She was drinking a vial of something and was off-guard. As soon as she dropped the vial, Famine-Boh had her. It grabbed her by the robes and slammed her against a wall, then reached one of its deformed hands around her throat and squeezed hard. As it squeezed it lifted her light form from the ground and held her suspended in the air.

.....As Walker Boh, this body was not strong enough to do such a thing without the aid of magic, but this new entity had all the strength it needed.

.....Mareth made small noises as she tried to gasp for air. Her feet kicked, trying to loosen the thing's grip on her neck. She sent bolts of magic at the once Walker Boh, but they had little effect. When she tried to reach for its cowl, it batted her hands away with its free hand.

.....Not this time, little Druid, came the demonic thought.

.....Yet, somewhere inside the demented mind that was bent on killing Mareth, the remaining shreds of Walker Boh, now dwelling in the subconscious, screamed in protest.

.....It was then the other girl, the Elf, reacted. It seemed as though she heard the scream right out of this thing's subconscious mind.

* * *

.....Amberle had whirled in surprise, shock written across her face as she watched the thing rush at Mareth, hands outstretched toward the High Druid's throat. She had watched as Mareth's instincts made her duck and turn to face the thing before her. Watched as Mareth drank the vial and dropped it, knowing that it would take the infusion at least twenty minutes before it started to work. Then Amberle had stood paralyzed with horror as she watched the thing pick Mareth up by the neck and shake her like a disobedient puppy, slamming her hard up against a wall. As she listened to Mareth's gasping breath and watched her send ineffectual bolts of magic at the thing, something in Amberle clicked.

.....She took a closer look at the twisted, emaciated creature before her, recognizing certain features on it that she now realized had once been human. There was an evasive familiarity about it...something she couldn't quite grasp. She opened her mind, trying to see if she could receive any kind of 'echoes' from the thing. Not for the first time, she once again wished she had been a complete telepath and not partial, but it was enough. Among the chaotic thoughts of starvation, death, and the driving need to kill Mareth, she recognized a very human scream from somewhere in the hidden recesses of the things subconscious mind, and not only did she recognize the scream, she recognized its owner in that instant, snapping her out of her paralyzation.

.....Walker!

....."That's Walker Boh!" she said in shock. "His body's been possessed!"

.....Amberle wasn't sure why she said it aloud, there was no one around to hear. She closed the link with a considerable amount mental 'noise.' The possessed and emaciated Walker turned his attention from Mareth for a moment to look at her, and after deciding she was no threat he turned his attention back to Mareth, who was beginning to struggle less and less. Amberle was not one to be too easily ignored just like that, not in a situation such as this.

.....'Ignore me will you?' Amberle thought, 'we'll just see about that.'

.....Mareth suddenly slumped in unconsciousness, and Amberle was getting desperate, unsure of what she could possibly do.

.....'Great,' she berated herself, 'Mareth's life is in my hands and I stand here like an idiot. But what can I do?'

.....Then an idea came to her. If even one small part of Walker remained alive and conscious within that thing--she couldn't call it human--she might be able to help him defeat what she was beginning to think of as Famine. He wasn't strong enough to do it on his own, especially not after the battle had taken most of his strength away. She would try anything as long as it saved Mareth...and Walker.

.....Amberle placed her hands together, beginning to sing softly in her dulcet voice. The song grew stronger as it rose in pitch, surrounding the room and all within it with a powerful sense of longing. Amberle made sure she kept the song right this time. Her song had no definite words which could be distinguished, but it spoke of hunger. A hunger so intense it was painful. A hunger so strong that nothing could sate it, nothing. Not food nor drink could quell the driving thirst and starvation behind its insanity. Nothing but blood, and not just any blood, but the blood of one certain Druid.

.....Amberle sang to the tune by which the creature played, and she began to get its attention. Amberle smiled inwardly.

.....'Yes,' she said within the confines of her mind, 'listen to my song. It is everything you live by isn't it? It is what you were sent here to do...but is it what you really want to do?'

.....'Yesss,' the creature hissed within her mind, turning to face her. Its grip still held Mareth by the neck, but it was loose now.

.....Amberle's smile showed on her face this time, her attempt to ensnare it seemed to be working, but she must not let it know that.

.....'Yes, it is isn't it? But what about that soul which struggles within you? If you should succeed, what will become of him?' she continued to speak to the creature with her thoughts, using her voice to lull it into her snare.

.....The creature scoffed, as yet unaware of her trap. 'I will succeed, little Druidess. Look at your poor, pitiful High Druid--what could you possibly do to save her now?' the creature tossed Mareth aside like a rag doll, beginning to advance upon her.

.....'What indeed?' Amberle thought to herself. She had the creature's full attention now, it had done exactly as she wanted. Now if she could just get its eyes focused on the sphere.

.....The creature stopped only a few feet before her. 'As to the soul, what does it matter? Likely he will die.'

.....Amberle's song began to take a new turn then, no longer directed at the creature, but at the last remnants of the conscious soul that struggled within, that part of Walker which had not yet been completely taken over by Famine. The part that still tried to fight, and struggled against this horrid invasion of his body.

.....Her shaking hands began to part then, a blue glow forming and coalescing into a solid sphere. Her song began to call to Walker, to help him find the strength he needed in her melody and to see the memories she was trying to bring forth in the sphere. She doubted that Famine had any memories to remember, so the only memories which could be seen had to be Walkers. At least that's what she hoped. She was doing what she could to help him, but the rest remained up to Walker.

.....The memories which she wanted him to see were to be of such a personal nature that they were meant to try and force him to fight back with more strength...through rage. A person always found unimaginable strength in anger and it was this which she counted on, hoping Walker at least had some memories like that. And she was taking the risk that if Walker was freed in this way, he might be so enraged by the memories she was calling forth that he would attack her too. She knew she was facing death either way she went.

.....Yet it was only just one chance she had to pull Walker out of his entrapment, and she desperately hoped it worked. If not, well, she certainly hoped she could come up with a better plan in the next few moments. For it was in the next few moments which would tell if it affected Walker in any way.

* * *

.....The Druid female had cast a spell. It was a weak spell, and Famine would rip her in two for trying the spell on a being such as itself. It lunged at her, intent on satiating its hunger with her life. The High Druid was still alive, barely. It would get back to her later, now it was time to kill this imposing little bitch.

.....But then something puzzling happened. The blue sphere between the small Elf's hands showed a picture. It was a picture of dead people Famine didn't recognize. A hanged and raped dead girl. A man with his eyes missing and his throat cut. Another woman, her throat also cut. It did not know who these people were, yet there was a sudden stirring within its mind...

.....Recognition.

.....Yet the recognition didn't come from the Famine thing, it came from the deep recesses of the subconscious. The place where what remained of Walker Boh dwelled. A primal scream of rage and hurt, but this time it had strength! Famine recoiled visibly as Walker Boh asserted himself into the conscious mind, only slightly, but it was enough.

.....Suddenly Famine was assailed with 23 years of foreign memories. Birth, growing up, moving from the far south to Leah. Dead parents, dead sister, wolves in the Mist Marsh, a Druid History, magic, the Druids. 23 years of memories hit Famine in a matter of seconds. It had pushed these to the side as it had with Walker's conscious mind, but now they all came back with a force that staggered it. It was not prepared for this assault. It had figured Walker Boh to not be a threat, so had not erected any mental barriers to separate it from Walker. It liked to hear the host mind suffer helplessly, but the Elf's (AMBERLE! Walker's conscious asserted violently) spell had given Walker the strength to assert a small part of himself back into the conscious mind, and with him came the memories. The memories assaulted Famine again and again, repeating the 23 years of Walker's existence over and over. Famine's grip loosened on Walker's mind.

.....Walker, now strong within his mind, summoned his magic. He wasn't sure if this would work, but since he was using his mind and memories as a weapon, he used his magic to enhance the weapon as he did with his sword. Famine felt a mental fire rip through its body, throwing its consciousness into an inferno of rage.

.....Walker Boh pushed with his mind and his magic. He pushed the demon's entity up and out from his mind. It was hard as he had to imagine his mind as a doorway and imagine that he was pushing the demon through it. It worked.

.....Walker's arms came up, fingers splayed. Fire raged from his fingertips and the tips of his toes. His head flew back, mouth open and fire leapt from his throat. Then a black, twisting evil spewed from his mouth like so much vomit. It twisted slowly, fighting being pushed from its new home. The more of the twisting mass that came from Walker's mouth, the more his body reverted to normal, starting from his feet and hands.

.....It was as though Walker was an article of clothing that was being removed. From his toes to his ankles, and from his fingers to his wrists, the skin took on a healthy appearance, the flesh and muscle filling out to the way they used to be. Hands no longer gnarled, and feet no longer bony and knobby. Then it was to his knees and elbows, then shoulders and thighs. Slowly the entity of Famine was thrust from Walker's body, and his mind. He was thinking more clearly now, rational thought returning. The only drawback was that he could feel the acute pain as his body reverted back to its own form. The shifting of flesh and bone was not the best holiday one could take.

.....The transformation from Famine back to Walker was up to his throat when it halted, Famine making a last ditch effort to regain Walker's mind and body. With venom, it sent waves of hatred and visions of pain and suffering. Mareth withered and torn, Amberle ripped to pieces, the other Druids dead at this demons hand, each depiction more gory than the rest. It staggered Walker's force. Such evil! Walker's resolve suddenly weakened, and he faltered. Famine sensed his victory and sent more images of horrification at Walker's mind, but here it made a fatal error.

.....It sent images of itself raping and hanging Walker Boh's sister. Its claws raked her flesh and stole her virginity, thrust after evil thrust. It licked at her face with a lust so vile that most would vomit in disgust.

.....But it did not have the desired effect on Walker Boh. Rage filled him anew and he cast the evil filth from his body with one huge mind thrust. Screaming in defeat, Famine flew from Walker's mouth and dissipated into nothingness inches from Walker's face.

.....The demon was no more.

* * *

.....Amberle watched the struggle within the creatures body, a struggle she knew was taking place between Walker and Famine for possession of Walker's body. She knew that her spell was working, and her song dwindled down to a whisper, just enough to keep the images in the sphere. She was running out of breath fast, and took a breath only when the song permitted her to.

.....Suddenly, Walker's splayed hands and feet began to spill forth fire, and from his throat came an oily, smoky image of unimaginable evil. Amberle stopped singing, the images in the sphere flickering and then dying completely. Amberle closed her hands, banishing the sphere.

.....She stood and watched as Walker's body began to fill out, the skin returning to its normal healthy color, and losing its grotesque appearance while the mass of twisting evil rose ever higher out of him. Then when the restoration reached Walker's throat, it stopped. Amberle was aware of another struggle, one in which Walker was losing. She had cut any empathic links to the struggle, unable to bear anything the pain and rage that surely must have come from her magic brought forth. However, she silently urged Walker to be strong, that whatever Famine did he could not let it affect him, but she was no 'sending' telepath. Only a 'receiver.'

.....Then she sensed that Famine must have made a mistake, for rage was renewed on the part of Walker, and his weakness was suddenly strengthened like a freshly tempered blade, slicing ruthlessly through Famine's last hold on him. The twisted mass of evil suddenly screamed in a howling rage of defeat and dissipated.

....."See?" Walker Boh said weakly, looking up at Amberle. "Your ability can be used to heal." He sank to his knees, weak and tired. His eyes closed slowly and he felt as though he might fall asleep right there.

.....Satisfied that he was going to be okay, she had him lay on the floor. She wasn't sure whether she should let him sleep or not however. She left and went to the High Druid's side. Kneeling down at the Lady Mareth's head, Amberle found she was still breathing--for which she was thankful--but unconscious. She had to bring her out of the unconscious state as quickly as possible. Amberle gently cradled the High Druid's blond head in her lap. Amberle reached into a pouch beneath her robe, producing a vial of smelling salts in case she might need them to revive the High Druid.

....."Mareth," she said. "Mareth, wake up now, please."

.....It was then that Risca burst into the room, axe held ready to strike.

* * *

.....Walker Boh lost consciousness after Amberle helped him to the floor, and Risca busted into the room. As the last shreds of his wakefulness faded he thought to himself wryly, "I sleep too darn much." Then he was in dreams.

.....He walked down the path of a garden, flowers and trees in bloom. It was springtime, and life was vibrant. The soft grass cushioned the soles of his feet as he walked. The birds chirped and small animals scurried off at his approach. He could smell fresh baked pies, the scent coming from somewhere on the other side of the garden.

.....He walked through the garden and somehow knew deep down that everything was going to be all right. At least for now.

* * *

.....Risca watched as Walker, looking very distorted, fell to the ground. The apprentice known as Amberle was also in the room, running to a crumpled heap on the floor: Mareth. He hoped she wasn't...dead.

.....He had his ax to the ready, but he felt that there was no need for it. He re-belted it and ran to Mareth's side. He put two fingers to her neck, and tried to feel her life-force, an old trick he had learned as a hunter.

.....Her pulses were slow, but there nonetheless. He left Amberle to tend to Mareth, then he went to Walker. He did the same to him, his was there too, it was stronger than Mareth's. Walker would survive this silent battle.

.....Risca then heaved Walker onto his shoulder and went over to Amberle.

....."I think we should get them out of here, they need help quick. Here, I think I could carry them both, you could run ahead of me, and find a healer, smelling salts would be useless now...she is close to death. We need to get them to a healer, and quick."

.....He bent down for Mareth, putting her on his bad shoulder, fresh blood made its way out onto his robes. At least Mareth was light.

....."Let's go, Amberle. The best thing for them is to be taken to Wynds or another Druid, our job is finished..." Risca passed a bucket on his way, and he spit out his cigar into it. This wasn't a good time for a fine cigar...

.....Amberle followed along behind Risca, gathering what was left of her wits. She hoped Wynds would know something more to help Walker and Mareth.

.....The two traveled a short distance through the hall until they reached Wynds' room, then quietly knocked on the door.

* * *

.....Walking down the hall away from the meeting, the only thing that was on Wynds' mind was sleep. Her strength was near gone from the activities of both day and night. Just as she reached her door she heard her name being called, and turned to find that Risca was behind her with both Walker Boh, and Mareth. Behind him was Amberle.

.....Rubbing her eyes she looked at them, and then looked again. "What happened to them? Wait, never mind that for now, just get them into my room."

.....Opening the door she led the way inside, calling Amberle in as well.

....."I think that I might need your help in this one. I honestly don't know if I have enough strength to do this by myself.

....."Risca just lay them down on my bed, and then wake them both up. They need to be awake for this to work... Amberle you have smelling salts, right? That should work."

.....Risca put down his injured comrades, wondering if they would live through this or not. He hoped--prayed--that they would. After he laid them down, he stepped back, and let the trained Druids take over, there was nothing left for him to do.

.....Slowly, he backed out of the door, trying not to disturb the healers in their life-saving processes. As he did so, he remembered the apprentices that should be in his room. Brian was there, and the others should be there. He pictured Brian, sitting there, telling Julianous, Tay, Bremen and Evelyn to sit still, Risca would return. Risca waited in the shadows of the room.

.....Turning away, Wynds began to rummage through one of the chests that stood open on the floor.

....."None of these are going to help when they are this bad off, I had hoped that I might still have some for that herb left, but it's all gone."

.....Turning back around, she smiled weakly. "Well I guess that this means that I'll have to do this the old-fashioned magical way."

.....Wynds walked over to Mareth, and noticing that she was awake, looked deep into her eyes, ridding her of whatever pain she could feel. She did the same to Walker, and then gently put him back to sleep. Turning back to Mareth, Wynds placed her hands on her head, gently pushing her strength into Mareth's body. The area around her hands turned blue with the aura of the magic, that was slowly infusing Mareth. She healed all of the injuries that she could, the internal and all of the external. Wiping away the sweat that had formed on her forehead Wynds looked at Risca and Amberle.

....."It's a good thing that you brought her to me. She had internal bleeding that might have killed her if it hadn't been healed."

.....Wynds reached over Mareth and repeated the process with Walker. Half way through she called Amberle over. She looked up at her hoping that the Elf would have the strength to do what needed to be done.

....."He was injured on the field tonight, and now the injuries are worse because of the fight with whatever was in his body. I can feel the traces of it, and it was evil. I don't know how he had the power to force it out. What I need you to do is focus your strength and use it to heal him. I just can't finish, I'm too tired. Mareth was hurt badly and took away much of my strength. Do you think that you can handle it? I can if you can't, but I don't want to push myself so hard that it hurts me, or even kills me." Wynds sat back and waited for a reply.

.....Amberle looked from Wyld Wynds to Walker and then back again, wondering if indeed she could do it. She had the strength. After all, she'd only cast one spell, but she wasn't sure whether she knew what Wynds was asking her to do. On the other hand, Wynds was exhausted. Amberle could feel the exhaustion that radiated from her like the heat of a dying sun. She knew if Wynds pushed herself too much more, it would kill her, or at the very least, damage her abilities to a very great extent.

....."I think I can, Wynds. At least I can try. I've never done anything like this before. You see, most of what I deal with is herbs, but if you tell me what to do and how to do it, I think I can manage. It's only channeling the magic, right? Focusing it to heal that part of the body which has been injured?"

.....Amberle listened as Wyld Wynds told her that which she must do for Walker, how the magic would find its way by itself to heal him. As Wynds continued to speak, Amberle was surprised to hear how Wynds thought she had come much farther than most would in such a short while. She considered staying at Paranor, but she had conflicting loyalties there. She wanted very much to learn how to expand her abilities and learn more about the Healing art, but she had just come from Mareth's room, where the High Druid had just said she was to go with the party to Culhaven. She wasn't certain as to what she should she do. She supposed she should wait and ask the High Druid when she was able.

.....Wynds stood up, still speaking, and went over to a chest. With a few whispered words, she brought forth blue, green, red, and yellow balls of light, and even a silver and a gold. Wynds explained that each tiny ball of light was a Druid at Paranor, and that the color represented not only what they were, but that the lightness of color represented the strength of the magic they each possessed and controlled. She looked as Wynds pointed to one of the bright blue one's.

....."This dot here would be me, and this one, the next brightest blue one would be you." Wynds said.

.....Amberle was a little shocked. Her? In such a short time? She knew Wynds was right in saying it sometimes took a Druid years to learn to develop and control their magic, and she had expected that, so it was a little unbelievable that she seemed to control so much already. Was it possible that she had learned to control so much already? Yet it had to be so, for Wynds knew what she was talking about or she would not be in the position she was now as Head of the Druid Healers. She was honored to hear that Wynds thought the way she did, and she hoped she could live up to Wynds expectations. She did not want to let the Druids down, ever. They had become like a family to her, and she was glad she had returned to Paranor. She had only left because she did not want to hurt them as she had feared she'd already done.

.....Wynds banished the tiny balls of light with a wave of her hand, and looked at Amberle, who was still listening attentively, despite her thoughts.

....."I hope that you consider all that I have said to you tonight."

.....Amberle nodded. Yes, she would consider what Wynds had told her. She would very much like to train with her, but again, she was unsure of what she should do. When Wynds finished speaking, she went over to a trunk and pulled out some blankets and animal hides, fashioning them into two beds, onto which she moved Walker Boh and Mareth. Then Wynds sat down in a chair, looking very exhausted.

.....Amberle knelt down by Walker, placing her hands on each side of his forehead. Then taking a deep breath, Amberle closed her eyes and slowly began to release her magic into Walker, willing it to find the places where Wynds had left off, too tired to continue. She felt the magic at work, could hear the pounding of two hearts, her own and Walker's. Shapes flew by in her head, images of veins, cells, and tissues. Her magic worked thoroughly, she could feel it as it came upon the evil residue that Famine had left behind, cleansing it out, and healing everything that seemed to be damaged.

.....Then suddenly, quite abruptly, it stopped, and she sat back on her heels feeling a little drained. She wiped the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand. Then seeing that Walker was sleeping, she stood up, leaning over him and tucking the blankets around him on all sides. Then she turned around, and seeing that Wynds had fallen asleep in her chair, took another blanket from the chest and covered the sleeping Healer with it.

.....What would Paranor have done without her? Amberle wondered, looking at the Druidess thoughtfully. Wyld Wynds was a woman of great strength, she doubted any could have survived what she had. Amberle picked up another blanket and laid down on the floor. She would stay near in case her help might be needed again.

* * *

.....The garden had turned into a castle, but strangely enough, Walker could still smell the baking pies. The castle seemed very familiar to him, and it only took a short time before he recognized it at Paranor. He walked down the familiar hallways, searching for... for... what was it he was looking for?

.....Himself.

.....He walked the hallways searching for himself. He could see strange trails of light, arranged in various colors, along the floor. Some radiated brightly, as if freshly put there, others were faded as though they might have been there for some time. They were motion trails! He squinted at one of the trails and recognized a familiar blurred shape. An axe. It was hanging from a blur that moved back down the hall from where he had come. There was another trail along side what must be Risca's trail, but Walker didn't recognize who it might belong to.

.....Just then, someone rounded the corner and moved to Risca's door, behind him a trail was left, even though the man had been moving at normal speed. It was Nalfein. He stopped at Risca's door and read a note that was there, then went inside the room. Seconds later the smell of a cigar overwhelmed the baking pie smell that had thus far filled Walker's sense of smell.

.....He turned to follow the trail Risca and who ever had walked with him left, but he saw Risca coming this way, leaving a brighter trail than the one he had planned on following. He decided to follow Risca's more recent trail as it was being made. Only he didn't follow Risca to his room, he followed it back to where the Dwarf had come.

.....Minutes later he found himself in Wyld Wynds's room. Wynds sat in a chair, looking very exhausted, her trails around the room had faded a bit. Amberle was there too, her trails still strong, her movements refreshing them constantly. She was standing over a body that lay in one of two beds. In the other bed was Mareth, moving slightly, but looking still weak.

.....A wave of sorrow struck him. It was his fault she was there. He had allowed the mind of the demon, Famine, to take over control of his mind and body, thereby allowing his friend's life to be endangered. Thank the heavens for Amberle.

.....Then Amberle moved slightly, no longer concealing the other form lying on the bed. It was himself.

.. ...Walker Boh stirred silently and opened his eyes. He was in a room that was not his own. He sat up silently and let his eyes adjust to the dark. He saw a bed next to his, with Mareth asleep in it. 'Oh, Mareth' he cried inwardly, she looked so pale! 'How could I allow that to happen to you?' His sorrow threatened to choke him up and he let out a shuddering sigh.

.....He looked down at the floor next to his bed and found Amberle asleep there, covered in a thin blanket. She was shivering slightly, and Walker Boh felt warm, so he put the blanket that had been over him on the young healer. She had proven to be the true heroin of the day, using her ability to turn the parasite in his body away from Mareth and then somehow lending Walker Boh the strength to defeat the thing and exorcise it from his mind and body. He knew she would go far in Paranor.

.....Across the room was Wyld Wynds, sleeping curled in a chair and wrapped in a blanket herself. He didn't know what part she had played in this "game," but he had a feeling that the fact that he and Mareth were still alive had something to do with it. How this day must have taxed her, as many as were injured in the battle outside the castle, and in the second attack on he and Mareth. What a strong woman she must be. She sure as hell looked uncomfortable sleeping in that chair.

.....He got out of his bed, making sure he didn't step on Amberle, and moved silently to Wynds' chair. Carefully he lifted her, his head filling with blood and making him dizzy. Shades, was he weak from the battle! He carried her over and lay her in the bed he had been sleeping in, covering her with her blanket again. Then, his bare feet making no noise on the cold stone floor, he moved to the door, opened it and slipped out.

....."Thank you," Wyld Wynds whispered from the bed as he closed the door. He smiled to himself and walked on down the hall.