I nodded, unable to think of what I could say to that, and I bade him farewell. I climbed into the back of the cart. Spink had tied his horse to it and was going to drive while Epiny shared the seat with him, the basket full of baby between them. I folded my tattered “clothes” into a cushion to sit on and rode in the back. The ride back to Gettys was long and uncomfortable. The cart rattled and jounced, the dust from the horse’s hooves quickly coated us, and we had to raise our voices to be heard. Even so, both of them demanded to hear the tale of all that had befallen me since that night I had left Gettys.

It was a long tale to tell, both painful and shameful at some points, but I had decided that these two, at least, deserved the full truth. Epiny, for a wonder, was silent through most of it, only breaking in when I spoke of the times when I had dream-walked to her. The night that I had tried to warn her about the raid, she had been thick with laudanum, she said. She credited Spink for pulling her back from that brink.

“There are many in the town not so fortunate. The Specks have stopped their magical onslaught against us, but many households still take the Gettys Tonic. It is a difficult thing to stop doing, but it is so sad to see little children sitting listless on the steps of their homes instead of playing in the gardens.”

Spink was quiet for a long time after I spoke of what I saw that night. I spared myself nothing, from the slitting of the sentry’s throat to my passive witnessing of the slaughter of the men at the barracks. When I spoke of seeing Spink and his men that night, he only nodded grimly. I feared he was having a difficult time understanding that all that I had done had not been of my own will, yet I could not blame him. I could scarcely forgive myself; why should I expect that he could do any better at it?

Still, they listened enraptured as I told of the days that followed, of Dasie’s death and Olikea’s sorrow, and when I told of Soldier’s Boy’s decision to do whatever he must to bring Likari home, both Spink and Epiny nodded as if there could not have been any other decision.

“It must have been hard to leave that little boy behind when you came back to us,” Epiny said sadly.

“It was and it wasn’t. I was not given a choice about leaving.” And before Epiny could tangle me with a dozen questions, I launched into the final part of my tale. When I reached the point of saying farewell to her and Spink, she nodded and said, “I recall that, but not as you saying farewell. It was like a door closing. Well, more like a window. Do you remember what I told you, so long ago in Old Thares? That once the medium at the séance had opened me to that world, I felt I could never completely close myself off from it.” She glanced sideways at Spink. “Now I can. I cannot tell you what a relief it is, Spink. No one whispering behind me when I’m trying to knead a loaf of bread, no one tugging at my mind when I’m rocking Solina to sleep.”

Spink let go of the reins with one hand and reached to touch his wife’s hand. “For the first time, I have begun to feel that I actually have her all to myself, occasionally. When she isn’t dealing with Solina or the other children, of course.”

“But it was frightening, because while that window was open, I felt closer to you, Nevare. Not as if I could reach you, but that I knew you were there somewhere. When it closed, I felt shut off. And I feared you were dead.”

“Well, I was,” I said, more lightly than I felt. I suddenly sighed, surprising myself. “I am dead to the Specks. Dead to Olikea and to Likari.”

By the time I finished my telling of how I’d been devoured by a tree, kidnapped by a god, and driven away from a village as a ghost, we had reached the outskirts of Gettys Town. I think that only when I saw that very ordinary place did I realize how fantastic a journey I’d actually made. Yet for everything I’d experienced, I felt no sense of homecoming or relief. My heart sank in despair. I had no brilliant plan for rescuing Amzil. I myself was a condemned man, and the closer we came to the houses and buildings, the lower I sank in the cart’s bed.

“I don’t think you need to worry,” Spink said quietly to me. “I only knew you because I recalled how you looked at the Academy. You’ve changed so much that I doubt anyone here will recognize you as Nevare from the graveyard unless you tell them that is who you are and give them a chance to study your face.”

Nonetheless, I felt nervous as our cart rattled through the town and up to the gate. I was horrified at the destruction we passed. A number of the town buildings were still burned-out husks that stank in the spring air. Others still showed plain signs of scorching or damage recently repaired. I craned my head back to look up at the watchtower over the prison’s corner of the fort. The scorch marks were plain, and the fire-arrow had triumphed. The uppermost part of the structure was a skeleton of blackened timbers.