to you, was it not?’ ‘Yes. I saved a little girl – kin to the Spiritwalker.’ ‘Which Spiritwalker, Fiddler?’ ‘Kimloc.’ The Trell was silent for half a dozen paces, then a frustrated growl rose from him. ‘A girl, you said. No matter how close a kin, Kimloc’s reward far outweighed your gesture. More, it seemed precisely intended for its use – the sorcery in that song was aspected, Fiddler. Tell me, did Kimloc know you sought Tremorlor?’ ‘I certainly didn’t tell him as much.’ ‘Did he touch you at any time – the brush of a finger against your arm, anything?’ ‘He asked to, as I recall. He wanted my
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