gma<br >er<br >hed.<br >rangement with<br >987<br >Rivkin<br >n whole or in part，<br >without permission<br >y Publishing Group<br >New York 10016.<br >ley Publishing Group<br >New York 10016.<br >"A" logo<br >- ommunications， Inc.<br >)F AMERICA<br >1<br >CORSON BRENN TORISK looked irritably at her companion. Nycta-<br >sia was toying with her dinner in gloomy silence， lost in thought，<br >and Corson had had enough of her brooding.<br > "Are you going to eat that or aren t you?"<br > "I haven t much appetite， I m afraid，" Nyctasia said listlessly.<br > Corson shrugged and scraped the rabbit pie from Nyctasia s<br >plate onto her own. "Since we got to Osela you ve done nothing<br >but mope about，" she complained. "You ve hardly left the inn.<br >We came here to see the fair!"<br > "And after I ve seen it， what then? On the way here I had at<br >least a destination. Now we re here， I ve lost even that."<br > Corson had long been accustomed to the life of a wandering<br >mercenary， but the Lady Nyctasia ar n Edonaris had never known<br >what it was to be homeless. She had passed all her life in the<br >city-state of Rhostshyl， and she could not resign herself to exile.<br > Corson sighed. She was losing all patience with Nyctasia s<br >melancholy. "I thought you planned to go south to the Valley-<br >lands， to visit the Edonaris who own vineyards at Vale."<br > "Even if they should prove to be of my blood， I I1 only be a<br >stranger to them. I ve no place or purpose among them. Why<br >should they welcome me?"<br ><br >
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