Disclaimer: these are not my characters, they are the writer's. Please respect that. The places are also not my own but I would appreciate it if you didn't steal my plot!

Cadvan shuddered in the cold, as he lay on the ground. His back was pressed hard up against the stony floor, and he searched all the while in his mind for sleep. It would be dangerous to light a bard fire in this place, too dangerous. So Cadvan turned his mind to other things. To Maerad.

She would be in Innail, preparing to receive the first casualties from the recent war with Enkir, with her brother Hem. She was safe, and that was what mattered.

In the distance, Cadvan could hear the cries of the distant battle echoing through the night. How close he had come to not making it. His whole body seemed to quake in nervous anticipation, so he drew his cloak around himself more thoroughly than before. He dared not think about the battle. He must rest, however difficult a prospect that may seem.

* * *

Drowsy, Maerad rubbed the ever clinging sleep from her eyes and forced her legs out of bed to face the morning. Her feet seemed to cringe as they touched the floor, for all was icy and the frost on the trees crisp. Shuddering slightly, Maerad walked across the room, drawing a fur around her as she went, to the window where she sat undisturbed. It had been two weeks since she had heard anything of Cadvan, and it had been ten days since the last casualties had been drawn through the gates, the battle was won. So why no news? Perhaps he was wondering, or helping to rebuild some of the hamlets that had been destroyed by Enkir's troops. He had to be. The alternative was too dreadful to even comprehend. Anyhow, he was brave, she reassured herself, he would be fine. He was a true Bard. He would be ok. She bit her lip, silently dreading the inevitable.

The sound of footsteps awoke Maerad from her thoughts, she stood, drawing the furs even more tightly around her so as to conceal herself from the cold blast that would surely come if the door opened. And it did. The wind that shrieked through the room was like Arkan's breath; as sharp as knives and as dangerous as well. Silvia entered her eyes red and puffy, her long hair wild about her face.

"Oh Maerad" she sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks, "I'm so sorry." She seamed to collapse towards her, her arms wide with sorrow, but Maerad could not move. The whole world had stopped. Her breathing became faster and pain welled up in her chest. Emotion seemed to take hold of her. Tears ran down her cheeks. And then everything went black, he could not be. She would not believe it. He was everything to her, her mentor, her best friend, her figurehead, and Hem's and recently he had been so much more. This was the last that Maerad knew.

* * *

Shuddering, Maerad sat up, clutching the blankets around her shoulders like they were key to her very existence. She was in her bedroom, in Innail. She was safe. And then it all came back. He was gone. A wail escaped from her mouth and she crumpled in despair, allowing her tears to run fresh and fast down her cheeks. He could not be gone. She didn't want him to be. He was everything to her, and she to him. They were one. They were meant to be. Yet they were not. Breaking out into fresh sobs, Maerad was lost unto the world.

"Cadvan," she wailed, "Cadvan." Over and over again she cried out his name until her throat was hoarse, yet her tears kept flowing. Her hysteria was overwhelming, even to herself. She felt as if she was going to burst with misery unless someone stopped her. And someone did.

"Hush, Maerad, hush," cooed Silvia, coming to sit by Maerad's side, holding the girl's head into her bosom, "it'll be alright, you'll see." But Maerad could not see, she did not want to. For now she realized that she had needed him. He had saved her from Gilman's Cot. He was her link to all that was around her. He must always be there. No one else.

Rising like a ghost from a grave, Maerad walked steadily to her pack and picked up Queen Ardina's flute.

"Maerad, what are you doing?" Silvia asked, pleedingly, still failing to understand her charge; the girl before her. And before she could even rise, Maerad was gone from the room.

* * *

Maerad ran from the school, not wanting to look back and she felt suddenly calmer. In fact, she felt completely calm. All of her misery gone, replaced by the faintest splinter of hope. And she changed. For the first time since the defeat of Sharma, Maerad's Elidu powers seemed to take her over. She was a wolf, and she was on the hunt. She ran all day and all night for many days, not counting, for fear of having to consider the worst. In fact, she had almost forgotten herself by the time she reached the Weywood and was only reminded of her task when she realised that her mouth was full of tree, and tree was not too nice to eat. She needed food, but that could wait.

Forcing herself into human form, Maerad stood alone in the ancient forest, and she blew on the flute and she waited for what seemed to be an eternity.

At last, Maerad perceived a bright light moving through the trees. It was almost unbearable, but she stood, her hunger forgotten, so focused was she on the task ahead,

"Speak my child," commanded Queen Ardina in her own tongue.

"Is he...?" Maerad enquired, not daring to even contemplate the possibilities of the answer.

"Cadvan of Lirigon has not passed through the gates," she replied serenely, "yet he is as near them as should be contemplated by the living. Now, I command you back to Innail for all that you hold dear needs you." Flooded with relief and worry, Maerad sank slowly back into the darkness.