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added to the core of the coals。 Then； panting already at the thought of what she meant to do； she began to build up the fire。 She stoked it； concentrated it with dry hard wood； until its flames mounted toward the cave's ceiling and its heat drew sweat from her old brows。 And when the low roar of its blaze sucked at the air； causing the moss curtains over the entrance to flutter in the draft； she returned to the pouch of powder from which she had made the broth。 With her fist clenched in the pouch； she hesitated once more； faltering as if the next step constituted an irretrievable mitment。 〃Ah； mercy；〃 she breathed brittlely to herself。 〃I must remember… remember that I am alone。 No one else will tend him…or me。 I must do the work of two。 For this reason eremites do not Heal。 I must do the work。〃
Panting in dismay at her own audacity； she threw a small quantity of the powder into the high fire。
At once； the blaze began to change。 The flames did not die down； but they muted themselves； translated their energy into a less visible form。 Their light turned from orange and red and yellow to brown； a steadily deepening brown； as if they sprang now from thick loam rather than from wood。 And as the brightness of the fire dimmed； a rich aroma spread into the cave。 It tasted to the Healer like the breaking of fresh earth so that seeds could be planted…like the lively imminence of seeds and buds and spring …like the fructifying of green things which had germinated in wealthy soil。 She could have lost herself in that brown fragrance； forgetful of Lord Foul's winter and the sick man and all pain。 But it was part of her work。 Through her love for it； it impelled her to Covenant's side。 There she planted her feet and took one last moment to be sure of what she meant to do。
His hands and feet and face she would not touch。 They were not crucial to his recovery； not worth what they would cost her。 And the sickness in his mind was too plex and multifarious to undertake until he was physically whole enough to bear the strain of healing。 So she bent her loamy gaze toward his broken ankle。
As she concentrated on that injury； the light of the fire became browner； richer； more potent and explicit； until it shone like the radiance of her eyes between her face and his ankle。 The rest of the cave fell into gloom； soon only the link of sight between her attention and his pain retained illumination。 It stretched between them； binding them together； gradually uniting their opposed pieces of need and power。 Amid the heat and fragrancy of the fire； they became like one being； annealed of isolation； plete。
Blindly； tremulously； as if she were no longer aware of herself； she placed her hands on his ankle； explored it with her touch until she unconsciously knew the precise angle and acuteness of its fracture。 Then she withdrew。
Her power subsumed her； made her independent flesh seem transient； devoid of significance； she became an involuntary vessel for her work； anchor and source of the bond which made her one with his wound。
When the bond grew strong enough； she retreated from him。 Without volition or awareness； she stopped and picked up the smooth heavy stone which she used as a pestle； without volition or awareness； she held it like a weighty gift in both hands； offering it to Covenant。 Then she raised it high over her head。
She blinked； and the brown link of oneness trembled。
With all her strength； she swung the stone down； slammed it against her own ankle。
The bones broke like dry wood。
Pain shot through her…pain like the splintering of souls； hers and his。 She shrieked once and crumbled to the floor in a swoon。
Then time passed for her in a long agony that shut and sealed every other door of her mind。 She lay on the floor while the fire died into dim embers； and the aroma of spring turned to dust in the air； and the ghostly fibers of the roots shone and waned。 Nothing existed for her except the searing instant in which she had matched Covenant's pain…the instant in which she had taken all their pain； his and hers； upon herself。 Night passed and came again； still she lay crumbled。 Her breathing gasped hoarsely between her flaccid lips； and her heart fluttered along the verges of extinction。 If she could have regained consciousness long enough to choose to die； she would have done so gladly； eagerly。 But the pain sealed her within herself and had its way with her until it became all she knew of life or death。
Yet at last she found herself thinking that it had never been this bad when she was younger。 The old power had not altogether failed her； but her ordeals at their worst had never been like this。 Her body was wracked with thirst and hunger。 And this； too； was not as it had ever been before。 Where were the people who should have watched over her…who should have at least given her water so that she did not die of thirst before the agony passed？ Where were the family or friends who brought the ill and injured to her； and who gladly did all they could to aid the healing？
In time； such questions led her to remember that she was alone； that she and the sick man were both untended。 He； too； had been without food or water during the whole course of her ordeal； and even if her power had not failed； he was in no condition to endure such privation。 He might be dead in spite of what she had survived for him。
With an effort that made her old body tremble exhaustedly； she raised herself from the floor。
On her hands and knees she rested； panting heavily。 She needed to gather the feeble remnant of herself before she faced the sick man。 Miserable tasks awaited her if he were dead。 She would have to struggle through the Despiser's winter to take that white gold ring to the Lords of Revel…stone。 And she would have to live with the fact that her agony had been the agony of failure。 Such possibilities daunted her。
Yet she knew that even this delay might make the difference； might prove fatal。 Groaning； she tried to stand up。
Before she could get her legs under her； movement staggered toward her from the bed。 A foot kicked her to the floor again。 The sick man lumbered past her and thrashed through the curtain of moss while she sprawled on the packed earth。
The surprise of the blow hurt her more than the kick itself； the man was far too weak to do her any real harm。 And his violence rekindled some of her energy。 Panting blunt curses to herself； she stumbled stiffly upright and limped out of the cave after him。
She caught up with him within twenty feet of the cave's mouth。 The gleaming pale gaze of the tree trunks had stopped his flight。 He reeled with fear whimpering in his throat； as if the trees were savage beasts crouched and waiting for him。
〃You are ill；〃 the Healer muttered wearily。 〃Understand that if you understand nothing else。 Return to the bed。〃
He veered around to face her。 〃You're trying to kill me。〃
〃I am a Healer。 I do not kill。〃
〃You hate lepers； and you're trying to kill me。〃 His eyes bulged insanely in his haggard face。 〃You don't even exist。〃
She could see that inanition had only aggravated his amanibhavam confusi