The afternoon sun flooded through the open window, casting long shadows across the lounge. A lone figure sat immobile, transfixed by a large porcelain disk banded in silver and bronze with a portrait of songbirds engraved on it.

Peredhil heard peals of laughter coming from his friends outside, but he made no move to join them. Rather, he studied the portrait intently, hoping to glean some clue from it that would put order to his jumbled thoughts. His eyes flickered to the inscription Juliane had written. Its message was also a mystery.

He closed his eyes and an image of Juli came to his mind: her upper lip puckered slightly and her brow furrowed in concentration, stray blond hair falling onto her face as she nimbly worked a shapeless lump into a beautiful masterpiece.

Peredhil let his thoughts drift back to his encounter many years ago with the wise woman in Carmen. He had visited her on a dare from another schoolboy. He still remembered the floorboards creaking under his feet as he approached her timidly in her small roadside shack, her gnarled hands beckoning him to her side.

He had paid her a copper coin and then had sat silently beside her as she peered into his eyes. Despite feeling extremely uncomfortable, Peredhil had been unable to avert his gaze from her. After several long minutes, the old woman nodded to herself.

?Beware the songbird, for she will lead you down a path from which there is no return,? the old woman had said. Peredhil had opened his mouth to respond, but she pressed on. ?She will give you life and hasten your death. Through her, you and your people will be redeemed.?

With that, she had risen and retired to a back room, slamming the door shut in Peredhil?s face as he tried in vain to obtain some further clarification about her baffling comments.

For years, he had buried the wise woman?s message into the recesses of his mind. A songbird was supposed to dictate his life? Despite its absurdity, he had never shared his secret with anyone. Now, staring at the portrait, he wondered if he had finally met this songbird.

Could it be that Juli was indeed the songbird? If so, how was he to interpret the wise woman?s message? The message had said to ?beware the songbird? and had warned him that she would hasten his death. But she would also give him life and redeem his people, which must mean the Elessari.

Or perhaps Juli was just the messenger and someone else was supposed to be the songbird? He knew now that she existed. If only he knew how to find her.

A tap on his shoulder roused him from his trance.

?It?s time, Peredhil,? Wes said softly. ?Everybody?s waiting.?

Peredhil rose, adjusting his clothing slightly and running a hand through his sandy-blond hair.

?Let?s do this,? he said, leading Wes out the door, his face a mask of composure. Yet his eyes sought the songbird.

They had spent the night in a dingy hostel on the outskirts of town. The following morning, they awoke just in time to witness the arrival of the first carts of food from Elessar. Peredhil?s heart burst with pride and joy at the Elessari flags fluttering atop the carts, elves riding stiff-backed alongside them to ensure that the food reached those who most needed it.

The next few days passed by in a flash. Falco established numerous food distribution stations throughout the region. Riders took to the countryside to inform villages and farms about the nearest location. Ana provided guards for the stations and escorts for bands of people traveling to them. Elgin ensured that all stations met demand by transferring food to the most heavily trafficked posts.

Peredhil and his retainers were everywhere at once, quelling riots, repelling raids, and urging those manning the stations to distribute food faster and more efficiently. Thousands received aid in those first days, but thousands more clamored for assistance.

Still, Peredhil thought, things had gone pretty well as he rode away from one of the outlying posts on the afternoon of the third day. He could still see the station in the distance as he crested a hill. An instant later, he was dragging on his reins and leaping off of his stallion. He ran towards the edge of the road where a small bundle lay. He rolled the bundle over and stared into the unblinking gaze of a six-year-old boy, the glazed eyes portraying a grim acceptance of something the child could not yet understand. Peredhil glanced down at the boy?s arms, which he had clasped in the protective embrace of a baby girl. Her lifeless eyes also stared up at Peredhil.

Peredhil knelt next to them, looking back the way he had come. A few more steps to the top of the hill and the boy would likely have been spotted by one of the scouts at the station. A few more steps and two young children would still be alive. The boy?s haunting eyes, his struggle for survival in those final moments, burned into Peredhil?s mind. What accident of fate had inflicted this famine here, robbing these two beings of their entire lives? What had prevented the same thing from occurring in Peredhil?s own village when he was a child?

Peredhil lifted the two children and rode slowly back to Dowpan. He made inquiries among the townspeople about the children, but no one had ever seen them before. That night, Peredhil buried them side by side under the stars.

If Peredhil had worked intensely beforehand, now he pushed himself at a feverish pace. He would not eat until all had eaten (an impossible task given the streams of people who continued to arrive at all hours). He refused to sleep, teleporting from one place to another until he could barely stand and then dragging himself onto his horse to make additional rounds. Dark bags grew under his eyes, he lost weight, and tufts of hair sprouted on his normally smooth face. He pushed himself on, leading the distribution efforts when they faltered and charging recklessly into bands of marauders when he encountered them.

It was as if he had a death wish. Perhaps he did. Every time he closed his eyes, he found himself face-to-face with the two dead children, their stares accusing him of failure. Peredhil learned to ignore the worried glances his friends exchanged. Every moment lost could mean another life extinguished forever.

One day, as Peredhil helped hand out baskets of food, he was startled by a splash of water on his head. As startled cries arose around him, he looked skyward. Heavy clouds drifted in from the west, pelting the scorched earth with massive raindrops. People hugged and cried with joy, swam in the puddles that accumulated, and opened their mouths to catch the drops as they fell.

Peredhil fell to his knees, running his hands through the wet ground as rain streamed down his grimy cheeks. And he smiled.