We've had quite a few quiet turns. Ellyana was left with a succession of blinding headaches after her fall from the tree in the meadow, and we stayed in the guildhall while they slowly subsided. I treated the cut on her head as best I could, and used wet compresses to take down the swelling around the wound. She's been having fairly wild and vivid dreams too, which may or may not be associated with her injury. Those too seem to be abating, so I think that was indeed the case.

I was finally forced to abandon my famous ( or should that be infamous? ) stubbornness and admit to the damage I'd taken to my arm when we rolled and collided with the tree-trunk. I'd been exercising it during the marcs I watched over Ellyana as she slept. And in occasional ventures into the tombs I fought only with my Ultimate Weapon, trying to rest the left arm. Or I'd try another tactic, and fight only with a dagger in my left hand. But I'm no healer, and whatever the trouble was went far beyond the boundaries of the rather rough-and-ready treatments I've developed over time. I spent so many cycles of the 'rifter, as I roamed in various places, in situations where revealing a weakness or injury could have been a fatal error that a reluctance to do so is an ingrained habit which is very difficult to break. But Ellyana realised there was a problem - for one thing, as she mentioned, she had never before seen me drop a blade as I flipped it from one hand to the other. And it was a relief to be able to tell her, and ask for her help. Periods of rest, and her prescribed exercises to build strength and reclaim flexibility have worked wonders, and the arm is just about back to normal. Oddly enough, I've noticed that I've been sleeping more, and more easily. The result, no doubt of a weight taken off my mind.

The quiet time at the hall hasn't been wasted by any means. We've helped and treated each other, chatted about all manner of things, and spoken with those of the kin who have woken. And we've had time to play in the meadow, and at the swimming-hole.

Last time we visited the hollow it was nighttime. The place looks totally different without the rays of the 'rifter to light the area. Small noises which would pass unnoticed in the light suddenly seem louder, more sinister, and lead to discussions about just what sort of creatures live there. Maybe we shouldn't talk about such things too much:the conversation tends to bring on a feeling of unease. But as we explore the area we'll get more used to the sight and sounds there, by day or night. And then it'll truly be a part of our home. And there are memories of the spot which both of us need to blot out.

I've heard it said that if you share a trouble with another, then your load is halved. Certainly we've both benefitted from this time of helping and supporting each other. And turn after turn the troubles diminish, while trust and love flourish and deepen.