Fenelon looked up at the mountains in front of him. From ?ama? you could only glimpse the outline of the highest peaks when the sun would set on a clear day, from a second to the next its light would go out and the glorious outline of the peaks would appear in the skyline just above the horizon.

  Two days after entering the great Gatlin plains he was now at the foot of the Goldrac. The road to Lugalbanda was going up straight in front of him and soon got lost in the chaos of rocks that he was looking at. Peaks upon peaks, mountains piled up one on top of the other, never-ending rock-faces and cliffs that confused the mind with their sheer verticality. The sun was rising behind him as he checked the line of his packhorse and spurred on his roan. The climb was arduous but there were good inns at a day's distance all the way to the great Gatlin city.

  The merchant caravan that took him through the pass across high Goldrac was forty strong, discounting the mercenaries. They were under the orders of a Helehalian. The tall graceful woman of the Lakes region kept to herself mostly but Fenelon felt oddly drawn to her. One evening after an easy day in the ice tunnels he went to her after supper. As he approached, he was still searching for an excuse to come and initiate a conversation, but she spoke first:

  "Welcome child of the two races, I hear you have finally met with the wanderer, did he show you his maps? I am sure he did. Come, sit by my fire." Fenelon did not know what else to do so he did as he was told.

  "How do you know... How do you know what you know?"

  The Helehalian smiled a sweet motherly smile.

  "You are known, Fenelon of ?ama? on the Greyflow. We have seen you come since before you were born. And we have seen you go ever since. You have the sight; now that he has shown you his maps, you can see all who have powers in this world. Even places with strong convergences. Try focusing on the Lakes. I know you know where it is."

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  The young man thought about the map and it conjured itself in his mind, he then thought about the Lakes and he could see them, the long narrow strips of water lost in an ocean of evergreen fire-trees. It was full of people, many people, suddenly he realized that the only reason he could see them, all of them women, was because they all had powers. They were all to some degree using Uithil. But his mind was attracted to something, something powerful and very near. It was on a peak. On the very top of a rock needle; something, not someone; something monstrously powerful was there. Somehow, when his mind touched it there was a deflagration and Uithil shone brighter and was covered in thunder-like flashes. Fenelon fell to the floor and opened his eyes. The Helehalian was looking straight at him, a thin smile on her lips, she hadn't moved.

  "You have sensed it." She rose and offered her hand to help him from the ground. Her grasp was firm and powerful, her hand callused with sword and bow training, it spoke of violence, the finality of a well-aimed arrow, the difference between victory and death perfect swordplay could make. Fenelon was shivering a little, he did not know if it was from the vision or the contact with the warrior's hand.

  "My name I offer as a sign of trust. I am Ozna of the last Step, of the Helehalians." She bowed deeply to him and sat down before saying:

  "What you saw, the sisters call the Singing Rod. It is a very powerful object; we have only heard legends about it. But there is a song the priestesses of the Lake have been singing ever since the lakes filled with water from the winter snows and the summer rains. That song had been given to us by the gods themselves and it speaks of you and of the Singing Rod so high in High Goldrac that no man can go there, for there is nothing left to breathe and only the red drakes live in these parts. But you, yes, you little man of two people. The Natural of this age, you will go there and retrieve it for us, so that we can have it cut and forged into the Tools of Peace before the demon lord of Erna rises again and forces us to hide them from his power-lust."