When he was in her mind, he pried into her memories, feelings, attitudes, and layers of knowledge. The violation sickened her, made her feel more vulnerable. He went where he had no right to, into her innermost mind, laying it all naked—the loss of her mother, small moments of childhood, a birthday celebration for her father, her confusion over King Zachary . . .

All she could do was issue a mental whimper when he probed her. She possessed no skill or weapon to stave off such an attack.

On occasion, he chose to be cruel for no other reason than it amused him. He planted images in her mind, of those she knew and loved, the dearest people in her life. One by one he decapitated them, or flayed their flesh off their bodies. Mara was shown to be roasting on a spit over a fire. The captain was slashed from her neck to her belly, her intestines squirming out of the cut. Her father was thrown overboard a merchant ship into waters boiling with sharks, the sea turning foamy red around him as he screamed and thrashed.

To the image of King Zachary, he included her participation. He made her wield a sword and cut off his limbs. His dogs attacked him, feeding in a frenzy that turned their white coats scarlet.

Her mind screamed, but she could not force the scream to become a physical act, could not make it cross her lips. The images were so intense as to be real while she saw them.

He was controlling her, he was testing her, he was breaking her.

In a brief clear moment, she wondered what had happened to the little boy who played with toy sailboats in a fountain, the young adventurer who set off on dozens of quests. Her wondering was met with quizzical silence. And a clearing of the mist. He departed again to carry out plans.

Through the evaporating mist, she became aware of her physical surroundings. She saw the wall for the first time in her life. The wall that contained Blackveil Forest; the wall that was supposed to contain him.

“Help me,” she whispered, but no one heard her. There was some excitement occurring near the wall. “Help . . .” Why couldn’t her friends hear? Why wouldn’t they help her?

I hear you.

It was the voice of Lil Ambrioth.

The world reeled as Karigan looked around, and she stumbled against Condor’s shoulder. He nickered at her. Her mind had been so caught up in webs and images that she could not find equilibrium. She could see nothing of Lil but a pale pair of eyes gazing at her.

You must block him out, Lil said.

“I—I can’t. He’s too powerful.”

I feared it was so.

“Please help me.”

I want to, but I’m not sure what to do.

Lil’s words angered Karigan. “You’re the First Rider—you have to know!”

Ghost eyes blinked. The First Rider I may be, all-knowing I am not. That power is reserved for the gods alone.

“Help me . . .” Karigan’s anger dissipated into desperation. “He’ll return.”

I’ll do what I can to buffer your mind, but it hasn’t worked so far.

Wild magic roiled in Karigan’s arm. She imagined it to be some hungry, insatiable beast that would feed on her life and energy till nothing was left. It allowed him to control her. If only she could flee and hide, but where could she hide?

The fog that clouded her mind continued to break, letting in sunshine. She felt lighter than she had in a while. Lighter, more aware, and more able to think.

Wild magic had done more than allowed Mornhavon to control her. Maybe, she thought, it wasn’t a matter of hiding where, but when.

Because of the wild magic, she had traveled into the past, and forward into the future. And, if she were to have a “future,” she would have to take a stand now.

She absently stroked Condor’s neck as she considered the madness of her thoughts. Abruptly she gazed into Lil Ambrioth’s eyes.

“There is something we can try, but I’ll need your help.”

Karigan told Lil her plan. When she finished, Lil’s eyes blurred from side to side as though she were shaking her head.

During my day, she said, I was called insane by many for my actions. This is easily more insane than anything I ever did.

“It won’t work without you,” Karigan said. Part of her hoped Lil would refuse, but she knew it must be done. Something had to be done.

Pray my energy holds.

“Our brooch should hold us together.”

“Karigan,” Dale called, “what are you standing over there for? Come see Alton!”

“Alton?” Karigan turned away from Lil in surprise. When she saw him, she didn’t know whether to jump for joy, or to run and give him a hug.

She trotted toward where he stood at the breach, then stumbled to a halt. She took in his familiar form, the brown head of hair, the beard that had started to grow on his strong chin. He was woefully thin. When he saw her coming, he smiled.

Maybe it was tears of joy blurring her vision, but she couldn’t quite make out his features clearly. And his smile . . . There was something wrong with it. It lacked his easy-going humor. It was dead.

Past, present, future. Memory. Memory of Lil facing Hadriax el Fex at the base of Watch Hill, only it hadn’t been el Fex. Memory of illusion.

Her saber rang as it cleared its sheath, and she ran screaming at the illusion of Alton D’Yer. The Riders around her reacted slowly at first, shocked by her drawn saber, shocked by her scream. Then real time resumed.

“She means to kill him!” Dale.

She charged past Dale and Captain Mapstone, raising her sword as she went. Even the illusion appeared surprised. She ran until a giant in green knocked her sprawling to the ground, her breath whooshing from her lungs. Ty snatched her sword from her hand and the giant lifted her to her feet, and wrapped his arms around her so she could hardly move.