IT WASN'T merely pain. It was consciousness, awareness, and it was driving into Dallin with an insistence that would not be denied for much longer. The land, the Mother--one and the same--trying to tell him something, and he'd damned well better stop to listen, and soon.
Corliss was riding beside him, the horses down to a walk. It was still dark, and the rocky path they were riding was steeper than most of the others that led to Faedme. More of a footpath than a horse trail, and even if Calder hadn't taken this particular corridor--though Dallin knew he had, and the signs had borne it out thus far--they'd at least catch Calder up when they got there, or beat him to it.