"Thank you."

And Isibel goes back to where Liselen is waiting, taking careful, even steps.

"Thank you."

Isibel returns to within eyeshot of Magania, and she waits, and she tries to think of thoughts she needs to have before there's no privacy to be had, but she can't think of anything.

Magania explains that there is a dragon on the island, Bonded to what seems to be a benign Endarkened.

While the debate about what to do with the dragon's Bondmate is ongoing, a consensus quickly emerges that the dragons should send an expedition. Magania defers to Isibel for any knowledge she may have of the island dragon's willingness to engage in producing eggs.

"Good," rumbles Ancaladar. "That simplifies things."

"And we're going to need all the simplicity we can get," snorts Saravasse.

"The bond will make us tolerate many things we thought were intolerable," says Saravasse.

"Harrier, too, was unhappy with that aspect of the bond," says Ancaladar. "He grew accustomed with time."

Petrivoch speaks up. "Whether you shrivel up is your business, but whether you save the world is everyone's business. If the problem is just that you'll find your dragon's attention distracting, meditate into hyperfocus and you'll be able to concentrate. It's a discipline of elven meditation; my Bondmate can teach you if you have the time and want to learn. She's here in Karahelanderialigor."

"That may work," says Isibel, head bowed. "Thank you."

"And I am sorry," says Ancaladar. There is a general murmur of agreement.

Then they start talking about which dragons will visit the island. Saravasse volunteers to lead them.

Isibel speaks quietly to Petrivoch about his Bondmate's exact location.

She finds her.

She explains the situation.

The other elf wastes no time in setting Isibel up in a guest house and setting a rigorous schedule suitable for the world-saving deadline in which Isibel will learn meditation.

Isibel proves rather adept at it, all told. Inside a moonturn, she can narrow her attention to the finest of points, like a needle so fine as to be half-invisible, or sunlight focused through glass. She thinks of nothing else beyond her chosen object of meditation. The practice isn't without its dangers. She could easily neglect a terrible injury, for example, were her mind elsewhere than her body when she was hurt.

But that's much of the point, that she can feel no suffering when hyperfocused. That she will do work, and nothing else. That she will be able to look for whoever seeks the Dark, and nothing else. That she will be able to study magic to be able to bring it to bear, and nothing else. That she will be able to be the savior of the world.

And nothing else.

She can't stay in hyperfocus forever. She's up to an hour when her teacher pronounces her ready, and she can only do an hour when the focus object is something interesting - a book, usually. She can last only minutes at a time trying to meditate on her breathing or on a star. But of course the object here is not to make her Bond free of distress for her. It's to make her productive in spite of distress.

She'll get better with practice, and if she has to spend much of every day in miserable desperate awareness of scrutiny, well, the world is at stake, she is only one elf and there are millions if not billions of people on the line, where would she be now if Harrier had refused his commands from the Wild Magic?

The teacher advises her to add a trigger to each session of hyperfocus that will end it early (because, of course, one of the things she neglects when her mind is sharpened to a blind single point is anything that could lead her to want to cease to be so). For practice purposes, she uses a word from her teacher. For later, she will need something else.

Isibel supposes that as long as she has to give over her entire self into the hands of the dragon - and his obviously much more content existing Bondmate - she may as well let them trigger her. The demon could snap his fingers in front of her face, or something. Let them decide when she works and when she weeps.

At least she'll still sleep at night.

Elves sleep at night.

She's ready in time to return to the island with the rest of the expedition, and if anyone notices that she is withdrawn and upset, they are all too polite to ask.

She drifts into the forest towards the cluster of unicorn statues, already half-dead, and makes a reluctant but definite beeline for the dragon's cave.

The demon lands in front of her on an open stretch of path.