But he still felt cold within, as Owl Carver, his eyes now clear-sighted and grave, gripped his wrist tightly. "Do not let your uncle's evil spirit cross over to you. See that it be your promise, and not greed, like the greed of the pale eyes, that takes you back to that land. And, above all, do not use your shaman's power to harm your enemy, or you will suffer for it." "I will not," said Auguste, but he felt unsure of himself. After all the evil he had endured, how could he _know_ that he would not unleash his greatest powers if that were the only way he could destroy Raoul? The grip of the bony fingers on his wrist tightened. "Set your heart, White Bear, not upon getting back this land, but just upon walking your path." The deep lines in Owl Carver's face were drawn downward with pain, and Auguste felt the crushing weight of grief as he realized they were both thinking the same thought--that they would never see each other again. 24 Challenge Following the dimly seen figures of Guichard and his horse, Auguste breathlessly climbed a narrow, steep pathway that switched back and forth up the steep, wooded hillside. He led his horse by the reins. Halfway up the hill they came to a flat place, an open clearing. Auguste smelled wood smoke. The windows of a cottage glowed yellow, promising safety. While Auguste waited in the dark, Guichard stabled the horses, then knocked on the cottage door. "We have arrived, monsieur," he called, and pushed the door inward. Auguste blinked in the light of a dozen candles set on a circular chandelier. Across the room by the fireplace a book fell to the rug, a Kentucky quilt was swept back and a pair of long, skinny legs draped in a nightshirt swung over the side of a chaise longue. "Grandpapa, don't get up." But Elysee was already hobbling across the room to Auguste's outstretched arms. Elysee buried his white head in his grandson's chest. Auguste held his grandfather tightly; the answering embrace was not as strong as it had been even a few months ago when the old man had visited him in his cell. The fragility and weakness saddened Auguste. Bare feet peeping from under another nightshirt pattered down a ladder from the second-story loft. Before he reached the bottom, Woodrow jumped and rushed to hug Auguste. "I been staying here ever since we found out you were coming. So I could tell Miss Nancy right away when you got here." Nancy. His heart raced as he remembered her in the witness chair defending him and standing up to Raoul's abuse. He badly wanted to see her, to hold her in his arms. But could he allow himself to feel so much for Nancy, when he hoped to bring Redbird here? _That is looking too far down the trail. I may not live to see Redbird again._ Out there in the dark the enemy might be gathering even now. "You still live with Miss Nancy, Woodrow?" "She's adopted me." The boy stared down at Elysee's small Chinese rug. "I guess that makes me your son too."