“I am saddened,” Pran said, “that I may not return in twenty years to see the woman this child shall become.” “You shall,” K’rul said in a low tone, “but not as a T’lan. As a T’lan Imass Bonecaster.” The breath hissed between Pran’s teeth. “How long?” he asked. “Three hundred thousand years, Pran Chole of Cannig Tol’s Clan.” Kruppe laid a hand on Pran’s arm. “You’ve something to look forward to,” he said. The T’lan stared at Kruppe a moment, then he threw back his head and roared with laughter.
