Finally, Andy left. As she had known, the wounds started coming back. Then they stopped. She heard someone behind her. “Andy, please, go.” “Sorry, I’m not Andy,” the figure said. She still had enough of Andy’s energy to turn and look. “Grandfather?” She didn’t know how she knew it was him. If he had been in dragon form, she might have understood. There were few black dragons, less than five up in all of history. But he was in human form. She had never seen a picture of him nor had she seen his son, her father, not that she knew of at least. Nim had a lot of drawings he hadn’t told her about. He looked nothing like her Aunt Mirimar. “He seems nice. Your mate?” “Not yet,” she said, “Now, not ever.” “Am I dead?” She asked. “I hope not. That would mean I was too,” Mishtali chuckled. “But you did die, five hundred years ago when you defeated Nor’than,” Ann insisted. “No, I didn’t. I’m trapped on his world.” “Nor’than’s?” Ann was confused. “Your chosen’s,” he clarified. “I was just there,” she said. “I know. That’s when I learned about you. But I didn’t realize you were my granddaughter. You look so much like your grandmother, though. Whose child are you, Mirimar’s or Thailyn’s?” “Thailyn’s,” Ann said. “I need you to do something. I need you to use your vial. Fill it up with your magic energy. You’re strong. It will fill up fast. Then, I need you to bring it here. If you do, I’ll give you another. But, you need to keep it to yourself. Don’t tell anyone.” Ann shook her head. “I won’t hide it from Andy.” “I don’t suppose you could if you tried. Tell him. You shouldn’t hide stuff from your chosen but tell no one else. When you come, bring your father and Nimitinas too. You can tell them about me, why you’re coming, just don’t mention the vial.” “Father is gone. He disappeared.” She thought he might have smiled a moment but wasn’t sure. “Tomin Mishtan? Is he around?” “He is.” “Then bring him and a healer and your chosen.” “And an army?” Ann asked with half a smile. “Even you couldn’t transport that many, and you can’t come through the gate.” “I can’t come at all. I’m stuck here, my magic is gone.” “Your magic is never gone. You just need to find it, just don’t look here. And then you need to find the exit too. I must go. I’ve stayed too long already. Hurry.” And with that, he was gone. He was right. She needed to hurry. Wounds were reforming again. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to move. She knew where the exit was, the top of the mountain. She started to climb. It was long and difficult. By the time she was done, she had plenty of new wounds to match the old ones reforming. Now she needed to find magic to open the exit. Not here, he had said. Not in herself. Well, where else would she find her own magic? A spell, something she’d enchanted. There were a few things she had done. Chances are the object would be ruined. What could be spared?