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They walked on toward the bonfire； hand in hand。
Rachel the Dragon wandered through Erchester； her hair bedraggled； her clothes tattered and soiled。 All around； people ran laughing through the streets； singing； cheering； playing frivolous games as though the city were not falling apart around them。 Rachel could not understand it。
For days she had hidden in her underground sanctuary； even after the terrible tremblings and shiftings had stopped。 She had been convinced that the world had ended over her head； and felt no urge to leave her well…stocked cell to see demons and sorcerous spirits celebrating in the ruins of her beloved Hayholt。 But at last curiosity and a certain resolve had gotten the better of her。 Rachel was not the kind of woman to take even the end of the world without fighting back。 Let them put her to their fiendish tortures。 Blessed Rhiap had suffered； hadn't she？ Who was Rachel to hesitate before the example of the saints？
Her first blinking； molelike view of the castle seemed to confirm her worst fears。 As she made her way through the hallways； through the ruins of what had been her home and her greatest pride； her heart withered in her breast。 She cursed； the people or creatures who had done this； cursed them in a way that would have made Father Dreosan turn pale and hurry away。 Wrath moved through her like a tide of fire。
But when she had finally emerged into the almost…deserted Inner Bailey； it was to discover one puzzlement after another。 Green Angel Tower lay in a shambles of stone； and the destruction and fire…scorchings of recent battle were everywhere； but the few folk she encountered wandering through the desolation claimed that Elias was dead and that everything was to be made right again。
On the tongues of these； and of many others she met as she went down into Erchester； were the names of Miriamele； the king's daughter； and someone called Snowlock。 These two； it was said…he a great hero of battles in the east； a dragon…slayer and warrior…had thrown down the High King。 Soon they would be married。 All would soon be made right。 That was the refrain on every tongue： all would be made right。
Rachel had snorted to herself…only those who had never had the responsibilities she had would think this a task that could take less than years…but she could not help feeling curiosity and a faint flickering of hope。 Perhaps better days were ing。 The folk she met said Pryrates had died； too； burned to death somehow in the great tower。 So a measure of justice had been done at least。 Rachel's losses had finally been avenged； however tardily。
And perhaps； she had thought； Guthwulf could be saved and brought up again from darkness。 He deserved a happier fate than to wander forever while the world aboveground returned to something like order。
Kind folk in Erchester had fed her from their own meager stores and given her a place to sleep。 And all evening she had heard the stories of Princess Miriamele and the hero Snowlock； the warrior princeling with the dragon…scar。 Perhaps； she had considered； when things were calm again she would offer her services to the new rulers。
Surely a young woman tike Miriamele； if she had been brought up at all well； would understand the need for order。 Rachel did not think that her heart would ever entirety be in her work again； but felt sure she had something to offer。 She was old； but there might still be use for her。
Rachel the Dragon looked up。 While her thoughts had been meandering； her feet had led her down to the fringes of Battle Square； where a bonfire had been lit。 As much as possible had been made of scant provisions； and a feast of sorts had been laid in the middle of the square。 The remnants of Erchester's citizenry milled about； shouting； singing； dancing around the fire。 The clamor was almost deafening。 Rachel accepted a piece of dried fruit from a young woman； then wandered over to a shadowy corner to eat it。 She sat down against the wall of a shop and watched the carryings…on。
A young man passed her； and his eye caught hers for a moment。 He was thin and his face was sad。 Rachel squinted。 Something about him was familiar。
He seemed to have the same thought； for he wheeled and walked back toward her。 〃Rachel？〃 he asked。 〃Aren't you Rachel； the Mistress of Chambermaids？〃
She looked at him； but could summon no name。 Her head was full of the noise of people on the roofs shouting down to friends in the square。 〃I am；〃 she said。 〃I was。〃
He stepped forward suddenly； frightening her a little； and put his arms around her。 〃Don't you remember me？〃 he asked。 〃I'm Jeremias！ The chandler's boy！ You helped me escape from the castle。〃
〃Jeremias；〃 she said； patting his back softly。 So he had lived。 That was a good thing。 She was happy。 〃Of course。〃
He stepped back and looked at her。 〃Have you been here all along？ No one has seen you in Erchester。〃
She shook her head； a little surprised。 Why should anyone have been looking for her？ 〃I had a room 。。。 a place I found。 Under the castle。〃 She raised her hands； unable to explain everything that had happened。 〃I hid。 Then I came out。〃
Grinning； Jeremias grabbed her hand。 〃e with me。 There are people who will want to see you。〃
Protesting； although she did not quite know why… surely there was nothing better an old woman like her had to do…Rachel allowed herself to be led through the swirling crowds； right across Battle Square。 With Jeremias tugging at her until she wanted to ask him to let go； they passed so close to the bonfire that she could feel its heat down into her cold bones。 Within moments they had pushed through another knot of people and approached a line of armored soldiers who held them back with crossed pikes until Jeremias whispered something in the captain's ear。 The sentries then let them through。 Rachel had just enough strength to wonder what Jeremias had said； but too little breath to ask。
They stopped abruptly and Jeremias stepped past her toward a young woman sitting in the nearest of two tall chairs。 As he spoke to her； the woman turned her gaze toward Rachel and her lips curled in a slow smile。 The Mistress of Chambermaids stared at her in fascination。 Surely that was Miriamele； the king's daughter…but she looked so much older！ And she was beautiful； her fair hair curving around her face； shimmering in the fireglow。 She looked every inch a queen。
Rachel felt a kind of gratitude sweep over her。 Perhaps there would be some kind of order to life after all； at least a little。 But what concern could Miriamele； this radiant creature as exalted as an angel； have with an old servant？
Miriamele turned and said something to the man sitting back in the shadows of the chair beside hers。 Rachel saw him start； then clamber to his feet。
Merciful Rhiap； she thought。 He's so tall！ This must be that Snowlock； that one they all speak of。 Someone said his other name； what was it？
〃。。。 Seoman 。。。〃 she said aloud； staring at his face。 The beard； the scar； the streak of white in his hair…for a moment he was just a young man。 Then she knew。
〃Rachel！〃 In a few long steps he was before her。 He