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.Stands of larch and small woods of oak, elm, and maple broke the monotony of the whipgrass plains.Rauthauvyr's Road stretched before them to the horizon.An overcast sky hung ominously over the land, but the rain held off and the drought persisted.At Tamlin's instruction, the company skirted the villages and clusters of farmsteads that they passed.Ordinarily, a village would be expected to provide shelter and hospitality to someone of Tamlin's station.Tamlin did not want to burden the difficult lives of the villagers by requiring that they abide by custom."We will sleep under the sky," Tamlin instructed Ren and the house guards."And eat only our own stores."Cale credited him for that.Tension remained palpable between Cale and Tamlin.They spoke only as necessary and Cale feared his candor back in Stormweather had put a wedge between them that would not be easily removed.Cale tried to loosen it."My lord, if I am to be your advisor, I must be able to speak openly."Tamlin, riding beside him, did not make eye contact."You have shown already that you are willing to do exactly that, Mister Cale.When I require advice, I will ask for it."Cale held his tongue and that was that.As they traveled farther from Selgaunt, they passed fewer and fewer villages and farms.Those they saw looked as bad as tales had said.The drought and recent catastrophes had left the fields stricken.Most sat fallow or featured sickly crops of shriveled vegetables scrabbling to survive in the cracked, dry earth.Even the barley looked wan, and it ordinarily tolerated dryness.They stopped often at streams and ponds, all of them lower than normal, to water the horses and fill their waterskins."I had no idea things were this bad," Tamlin said to no one in particular.Around midday on the fourth day out, the gray sky departed without dropping any rain and the noon sun emerged to sting Cale's skin.He wore his hood down despite the discomfort, and he often caught Tamlin staring at his wrist.Finally Cale held up the stump, which would regenerate a shadowhand when the sun set."It is no blessing, my lord," he said to Tamlin.He spoke softly, so as not to be overheard by the house guards.Tamlin regarded him coolly."So you say.But I have been reading what I can of shades and shadow magic." He nodded at the books he had carried from Stormweather, which he kept in his saddlebags."You will age as slowly as a mountain.Disease is nothing to you.Your flesh resists magic.That sounds a blessing to me."The words were as much as Tamlin had spoken to him at a stretch since setting out, but Cale did not welcome them.He had known other men to use the same words when questing for power.Always such ambitions turned out badly."I did not endure this willingly," he said, though the words were a half-truth."And I have heard others speak of power in the same tone you use.I would advise you to spend your energies on more wholesome studies.""And I did not ask for your advice," Tamlin said, and spurred his horse forward.Cale let him go but stared at his back, concerned and irritated.Tamlin looked at Cale's transformation and saw only power, not the price Cale had paid for it.Cale shook his head, felt eyes on him, turned, and found Ren staring at him from atop his horse.Their eyes met.Ren nodded and his glance went to Cale's stump.Cale pulled his sleeve over his hand and nodded back at Ren.Cale rode for a time in silence.Late in the afternoon, the group crossed paths with two southbound caravans out of the town of Ornstar, but the caravaneers carried no news.The road was otherwise deserted.Cale thought it strange.Alone with his thoughts as he rode, Cale's mind turned to Magadon.He'd had no more dreams of Magadon since returning to Selgaunt.He was concerned about what it might mean for his friend.Mask had said Magadon would suffer.But he had also said that events in Sembia would lead Cale to Magadon.Cale reached into his pocket, touched his mask, and chose to believe that Mask had not lied to him.He was not sure he was being wise.That night, the house guards went about the business of setting up tents, tending the horses, starting a fire, and doling out the food stores.Cale kept his regenerated hand covered by his sleeve as best he could, but it proved difficult.Yet no one seemed to notice it but Ren and Tamlin.Cale at last pulled Ren aside and showed him his shadowhand.Ren eyed it with wonder."How, Mister Cale? A cleric of Ilmater?" "No, not a cleric," Cale said.Ren held up his own maimed hand."How then? Can I do theCale sighed."We are comrades, Ren—you and I, not so?"Ren nodded."Yes.Without any doubt.You saved my life.""Then I want you to hear my words.The hand regenerates in darkness, and only in darkness, because of what I have been changed into."He let shadows leak from his skin and Ren's eyes widened.Cale continued."This transformation I would wish on no one, and certainly not on a man as young as you.It was an accident, happenstance."Cale was not sure the last was the truth.Ren looked again at his maimed hand, thoughtful.He looked into Cale's face, his gaze steady."I have trouble holding a shield strap.And I still feel them sometimes, the fingers, as if they were still there.Tell me this, Mister Cale—would you sacrifice the hand, even at night, to have yourself back as you were?"Cale stared into Ren's eyes, considered lying, but decided against it."No.But only because I need to be what I have become in order to.do the things I must do.That is hard to understand but I cannot explain it better, Ren.I do not understand it myself any better than that.If things were different, I would feel differently
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