Dimly, as though from far away, Elak heard Lycon's startled voice.
"Who calls me? Is it you, Elak? Where—I see no one on this lonely cliff."
"Speak to him!" Mayana commanded. And Elak obeyed.
"I am safe, Lycon. Here I must stay for one moon, alone. You must not wait. I have a task for you."
There was the sound of a stifled oath. "What task?"
"Go north to Cyrena. Find Dalan, or, failing that, gather an army. Cyrena must be ready when Kiriath marches. Tell Dalan, if you find him, what I have done, and that I will be with him in one moon. Then let the Druid guide your steps. And—Ishtar guide you, Lycon."
Softly came the far voice: "And Mother Ishtar be your shield. I'll obey. Farewell."
Green darkness drifted across Elak's vision.
Dimly, through closing eyes, he vaguely saw the curtain before him swept aside, and a dark silhouette moving forward—a shape slim and tall beyond human stature, yet delicately feminine withal. Mayana made a summoning gesture—and the shadows flowed into the temple.
They swept down upon Elak, bringing him darkness and cool, soothing quiet. He rested and slept, and the enchanted strength of the sea-woman poured into the citadel of his soul.