JEWEL.YOUARESEER-BORN.ITISTIMETHATYOUUNDERSTANDWHATTHATMEANS.

Themistsweregivingwaytoflatplains.Iwilltellyou.Iftheseer-

born choose to do so, theycould see the past of a man

almost as clearly as theycould see the shadows hecast. The future is a place ofpossibility; the past is fixed.The road between the two isoftenconnected,andoncethepath is found, it can befollowed. The Oracle invitedyoutowalkuponolderroadsthan could be found in eventhe Stone Deepings. Walkthem,Jewel,andintheend,Iwillbeabletohidenothing.Shefeltcold.Lookeddown

at the hands that had slowlyfallen to her sides, and saw,cupped in them, a round,glowingorb.Sheblinked;herhandswereempty.Butthemisthadgivenway

in a sudden gust of wind,pulled like curtains to eitherside.Beneath her, extending for

as far as shecould see, layasea of tents. She saw horses,haltered, impatient;sawmen,somewith spears, somewith

swords.Wherearewe?We are, if I guess

correctly,attheborderoftheTerrean ofRaverra.And thisis some part of the army theyoungkaiLeonnefaces.Avandar caught her hand

in his. He began to walktoward the body of thearmy....

TheFinestinFantasyfromMICHELLE

WEST:

THESUNSWORD:THEBROKENCROWN

(BookOne)THEUNCROWNEDKING

(BookTwo)THESHININGCOURT

(BookThree)SEAOFSORROWS(Book

Four)

THERIVENSHIELD(BookFive)

THESUNSWORD(BookSix)

THESACREDHUNT:HUNTERSOATH(Book

One)HUNTERSDEATH(Book

Two)

TheRivenShield

TheSunSword:BookFive

MichelleWest

DAWBOOKS,INC.

DONALDA.WOLLHEIM,FOUNDER

375HudsonStreet,NewYork,NY10014ELIZABETHR.WOLLHEIM

SHEILAE.GILBERTPUBLISHERS

http://www.dawbooks.com

Copyright2003byMichelleSagara.AllRightsReserved.CoverartbyJodyLee.MapbyMichaelGilbert.

DAWBookCollectorsNo.1262.

Allcharactersandeventsinthisbookarefictitious.Anyresemblancetopersonslivingordeadisstrictly

coincidental.

Thescanning,uploadinganddistributionofthisbookviatheInternetorviaanyothermeanswithoutthepermissionofthepublisherisillegal,andpunishablebylaw.Pleasepurchaseonlyauthorizedelectroniceditions,anddonotparticipateinorencouragetheelectronicpiracyofcopyrighted

materials.Yoursupportoftheauthorsrightsisappreciated.

FirstPrinting,July2003

DAWTRADEMARKREGISTERED

U.S.PAT.OFF.ANDFOREIGNCOUNTRIES

MARCAREGISTRADA.HECHOENU.S.A.

PRINTEDINTHEU.S.A.

ThisisforTerryPearson,whoshouldknowwhy.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

As always, I owe SheilaGilbertadebtforherpatienceandherunderstanding.DebraEuler, called DAWsValkyrie by Tanya Huff,provided timely remindersand her particular brand ofencouragement. AlisRasmussen read the earlychapters of this bookwhen I

despaired of itbeing a book,and as always providedinsight and advice. GraydonSaunders also provided adifferent kind of insight,meantforalaterwork,whichdidhelpforthisone.And Thomas, Daniel, and

Ross patiently gave up theirtime while I wrote,complained,toreoutmyhair,andwrotemore.

AuthorsNote

I know that I told a greatmany of you that I wasworking on the last book ofTheSunSwordandthiswascompletelytrue.A bit about how Iwork. I

dont have a formal outline,or rather, I have several, andnone of them are binding;they change with time. I

approachmynovelsasiftheywere a collection of people Igrow,withtime,toknow,andthe motivations of thosepeople change everything,timeandagain.I havenever been good at

determining the length of agiven story. This has led tomuch good-natured humor atmyexpense, andbecause itsdeserved,Iacceptit.So . . . Iwas working on

the last book of The Sun

Sword. Family mattersbrought the book to ascreeching halt in January of2002, as they often do. Butwe recovered, and the bookrecovered,andIcontinued towrite it. At the worldcon inSan Jose, I was still tellingpeople that this was the lastbook.But about a month after I

returnedhome,IrealizedthatI was actually on page 1700ofthemanuscript,andbybest

guessseeabove re:meandlengthitwasgoingtocomeinat2000pages.SoIphonedthe DAW offices, andreached Sean Fodera, therights manager (thewonderful thing about theDAW offices is that youneverquiteknowwhoyouregoingtoreach,butitsalwaysa pleasure, regardless), and Isaid, Sean, I think this isgoing togoabiton the longside. He laughed and said,

So what else is new? Andafter several minutes ofribbing, which I wont recaphere,hegotdowntobusinessand asked, How long islong?And I said, Ummm, at

least2000manuscriptpages.(Writers are not, thank god,paidforconversation).All laughter vanished at

thatpoint,andhesaid,Nowyou have a problem. YoudbettertalktoSheila.

SoIdid,andatlength,anditwasdecidedthat insteadofattemptingtohack600pagesout of the book, we wouldsplitit.Which is a good thing,

given that Im now at nearly2100pages,andalthough theend is definitely in sight, itsnotthereyet.Iwanttoapologizetoallof

my readers for this. I didntintendtomisleadanyone,andI didnt intend to disappoint;

to shorten the book wouldhavebeentocarveoutwholecharacters,andatthispointinthe story, it seemed to serveno ones purpose. The SunSwordisalmostfinished,andit will definitely be theconcluding volume; I hopethatyoudontfindTheRivenShield, the first half of thatlonger work, adisappointment because itsnotquitetheend.

AnnagarianRanks

Tyragar Ruler of theDominionTyragnate Ruler of one ofthe five Terreans of theDominionTyr The Tyragar or one ofthefourTyragnateTyran Personal bodyguard(oathguard)ofaTyrToragar A noble in service

toaTyrToragnateAnobleinserviceto aToragar; least of nobleranksTor A Toragar orToragnateToran Personal bodyguard(oathguard)ofaTorSerAclansmanSerra The primary wife andlegitimate daughters of aclansmankaiTheholderorfirst in linetotheclantitle

parThebrotherofthefirstinline;thedirectsonofthetitleholder

DramatisPersonae

ESSALIEYAN

AVANTARI(ThePalace)TheRoyalsKing Reymalyn: TheJustice-bornKing

King Cormalyn: TheWisdom-bornKing

Princess Mirialyn

ACormaris: Daughter ofQueen Marieyan andKingCormalyn

TheAstariDuvari: The Lord of theCompact; leader of theAstari, the protectors oftheKings

Devon ATerafin: Memberof the Astari and ofHouseTerafin

Gregori ATerafin: Thesecond of the Astari to

taketheTerafinoath

TheHostagesSerra Marlena enLeonne:Valedans mother; borna slave but grantedhonorific Serrabecausehersonhasbeenrecognized and claimedaslegitimate

Ser Kyro diLorenza(Sorgassa): The oldestofthehostages

ImperialArmyThe Eagle: CommanderBruce Allencommands the FirstArmy

The Hawk: CommanderBerriliyacommandstheSecondArmy

The Kestrel: CommanderKalakarcommandsthe Third Army and theOspreys

THETEN

KALAKAREllora:TheKalakarVerrus Korama: Herclosest friend andadjutant

Verrus Vernon Loris:Friendandcounselor

TheOspreysPrimusDuarte:LeaderAlexis: (Sentrus orDecarus)

Auralis: (Sentrus orDecarus)

Fiara:(Sentrus)

Cook:(Sentrus)Sanderton:(Decarus)KirieldiAshaf

BERRILIYADevran:TheBerriliya

TERAFINAmarais HandernesseATerafin:TheTerafin

Morretz:HerdomicisJewel Markess ATerafin:Part of her HouseCouncil; also seer-born;

herdenare:FinchTellerAngel:HeisnotATerafinCarverArann:HouseGuardJesterDaine:Healer-bornEllerson:Heservesthedenasdomicis

Avandar Gallais: Alsoknown asViandaran; heisJewelsdomicis

The Winter King: Great

stag, taken from theStoneDeepings

Lord Celleriant of theGreen Deepings:Compelled by Arianneto serve Jewel for hisfailure,heisArianni

Ariel: Young child givenJewel by Lord Isladarforherprotection

RymarkATerafin:MemberoftheHouseCouncil

Haerrad ATerafin:Member of the House

CouncilElonne ATerafin: MemberoftheHouseCouncil

Marrick TremblantATerafin:MemberoftheHouseCouncil

Torvan ATerafin: CaptainoftheChosen

THE ORDER OFKNOWLEDGEMeralonne APhaniel:Member of the Councilof the Magi; first circle

mageSigurne Mellifas: Memberof the Council of theMagi;firstcirclemage

Gyrrick: One ofMeralonnes warriormages; seconded by thearmy

SENNIELCOLLEGESolranMarten:BardmasterofSennielCollege

Kallandras:MasterBardofSennielCollege

ANNAGAR

THECLANS

LEONNE: Ruling clan oftheDominionofAnnagarSerValedan kai diLeonne(Raverra): The heir totheDominion

Markaso kai diLeonne:The assassinatedTyragar, Valedansfather

Serra Diora enLeonne:

Also Serra DioradiMarano

Serra Dioras haremwives

Faida enLeonne:OathwifetoDiora;dead

Ruatha enLeonne:OathwifetoDiora;dead

Dierdre enLeonne:OathwifetoDiora;dead

InServicetoLeonneSer Baredan diNavarre:Former General of the

Third Army, underValedansfather

Ser Anton diGuivera:Foremost Swordmasterof the Dominion; twicewinner of the KingsCrown

Ser Andaro diCorsarro:Tyran; the only Tyranwho serves Valedan kaidiLeonne

Ser Laonis diCaveras:Healer-born; he has lefthishomeintheNorthto

travelwithValedanAidanaCooper:Standard-bearer ormascot; youngboy

CALLESTA:RulingclanoftheTerreanofAverdaSerRamirokaidiCallesta:TheTyr

Serra Amara enCallesta:WifetotheTyr

Eliana enCallesta:ConcubinetotheTyr

Aliane enCallesta:

ConcubinetotheTyrMaria enCallesta:ConcubinetotheTyr

Sara enCallesta:ConcubinetotheTyr

Deana enCallesta:ConcubinetotheTyr

SerFillipopardiCallesta:Brother to theTyragnate of Averda;CaptainofhisTyran

SerCarelokaidiCallesta:The heir to Callesta,Ramiros oldest son;

deadSer Alfredo pardiCallesta: YoungestsonofRamiro, andnowhisheir

Ser Karro di Callesta:Tyran; half brother(concubines son); theoldestoftheTyran

Ser Miko di Callesta:Tyran; half brother(concubinesson)

GARRARDI:Rulingclanof

theTerreanofOertaEduardo kai diGarrardi:The Tyragnate of theTerreanofOerta

LAMBERTO: Ruling clanoftheTerreanofMancorvoSer Mareo kaidiLamberto: TheTyragnateofMancorvo

Ser Fredero pardiLamberto: Youngerbrother to theTyragnate; left the clan

in order to become thekai elSol, the leader oftheRadann

Serra Alina diLamberto:Oncegivenashostagetothe Imperial Court inEssalieyan, she nowadvisesSer Valedan kaidiLeonne and travelswithhisforces

SerraDonnaenLamberto:MareosSerra

SerGalenkaidiLamberto:Thekai(formerpar)

Ser Andreas kaidiLamberto: The deadkai

Renaldo: Tyran; sent toLamberto by the formerkaielSol

Marano:Ser Adano kai diMarano:Toragar to Mareo kaidiLamberto

Ser Sendari pardiMarano: His brother;Widan; also called Ser

Sendari diSendari, thefoundingnameofanewclan

Serra Fiona enMarano:Sendariswife

Ser Artano: Sendarisoldestson

Serra Diora diMarano:Sendaris only child byhisfirstwife

Serra Teresa diMarano:Sister to Adano andSendari; companion toYollana of the Havalla

Voyani,aunttotheSerraDiora

ClementeSer Alessandro kaidiClemente: TheToragar; his Tyr is SerMareo

SerJanoskaidiClemente:The son of SerAlessandros deadbrother,andtheheir

SerraCelina enClemente:WifetoSerAlessandro

Ser Reymos: Toran to SerAlessandro

Ser Adelos: Toran to SerAlessandro

ManeloSer Amando kaidiManelo: TheToragnate

SerFrankokaidiManelo:Theformerkai;killedincombat after beingaccused of attemptedmurderbythekaielSol

Darran diSambali:Village clansman,almost killed by SerFranko

TaliaenSambali:Hiswife

LORENZA: Ruling clan oftheTerreanofSorgassaSerJarranikaidiLorenza:The Tyragnate ofSorgassa

Ser Hectore kaidiLorenza:Thekai,heirtoSorgassa

Ser Alef par diLorenza:Hectores youngerbrother

Serra Maria enLorenza:SerHectoreswife

THE SWORD OFKNOWLEDGESerCortanodiAlexes:TheSwords Edge; the ruleroftheWidan

Ser Sendari diMarano:Widan

Ser Mikalis diArretta:

Widan

THERADANNRadannFrederokaielSol:TheformerleaderoftheRadann;diedintheLakeof the Tor Leonne,drawingtheSunSword

Jevri elSol: His loyalservitor; he also servesLambertoafterthedeathofthekaielSol

Radann Peder kai elSol:Themanwhonowleads

theRadannRadann Samiel par elSol:YoungestoftheHandofGod

Radann Marakas parelSol: Contemporary ofFredero;healer-born

Radann Samadar parelSol:Theoldestof theparelSol

Radann Jordan elSol: Aservitorwhoisafaithfulfollower of the ways ofFredero within the

RadannRadann Paolo elSol:Another of Frederosservitors

RadannSantoselSol: Theleader of the Radann inthecityofSarel

Radann Fiero elSol: Theleader of the Radann inthe city of Callesta, andthereforethemostseniorRadannintheTerreanofAverda

THEVOYANI

ArkosaEvallen of the ArkosaVoyani: The formerMatriarch

Margret of the ArkosaVoyani: The currentMatriarch

Elena Tamaraan:Margretsheir,DaughtertoArkosa

Stavos: Travels withYollana and the Serra

Diora

HavallaYollana of the HavallaVoyani:MatriarchoftheHavallans

Nadia:Heroldestdaugher,and Daughter to theHavallans

Varya: Yollanas youngerdaughter

THESHININGCOURT

The Lord of the ShiningCourt:Allasakar

THEFISTLordAssarakLordAlcraxLordIshavrielLordEtridianLordNugratz

THECOURTTheKialliLordIsladarLordTelakar

AnduvinTheSmith

TheHumansAnya aCooper: Powerfulmage,servesIshavrielsometimes

PROLOGUE

17ofScaral,416AA

THEwindwasawildtasteinhermouth,athingthatkickedatthetongueandthelipswithitsstrangeness.It carried the embers of a

deadfire,woodashlongpastthe point of burning, in thelengthening shadows of the

coming evening. The livingfireburnedaroundit,swirlinglikeeddiesofbrightlycoloredwater. Wrong, wrong. Shelifted a hand, rubbing hermouthwiththebackofitasifthe taste would somehowcome off. As if she couldcleanitaway.Anya, Devlin said. He

caught her hand before shecouldcuther lipsagainstherteeth;shedbeenrubbing toohard,withoutthinking.

Almost, she pulled hisfingers back, but as shetouched them, she realizedthat his skin felt the cool,crisp color of blueand sheknewitwashappeningagain.Thetearsstarted,andas theyran down her face, theytingled, a jumble of red andexquisite yellow, burningbrightly.Sheheard thewind,held its voice a momentbefore it slid into somethingthatshedidnotunderstand

some thing that made hermouthwater,asmell.Anya, Anya, Anya. But

shecouldstillhearhisvoice,hispreciousvoice.The first time it had

happened, shed beenterrified. Shed touched ametal plow in the old sheddown by Devlins unclesfarm, and instead of feelingcool, humped metal, shedtouchedgreen.Ayearago.Alittlemore.

Then, in the wake of thatconfusion,pain.It had passed with sleep

and the dawns light, andshedsaidnothingtoanyone.Not then. And not a monthlater,whenithappenedagain.Not five months after that,when it happened once ortwice a week, alwayssomething unusuala smellwhere a sound should havebeen, a color instead of asensation, a noise, some

pealing of bell or mutedsusurration when she lookedat what should have beencornflowerblue.Notevenwhenthesunlight

begantoshout inavoicesheunderstood; when theshadows whispered or sang;when food felt like bark orsteel shavings, the tastewrong.No; she hadnt spoken at

all until the pain was tooharsh to ignorebecause

when she couldnt ignore it,no one else could either.Devlin noticed first. Healwaysnoticedthings.Anya.But it was bad this time.

When had it gotten so bad?Tearsblurred the linesofhisface, and she brushed themawayjust as harshlysoshe could see it clearly. Sheneededtoseehimclearly.He knew what she was

thinking,too.Alwaysdid.He

was Devlin and she wasAnya, and they belongedtogether.Itsthepainagain.Shebitherlipandnodded,

and the tearsblurredhis faceagainbut it didnt matter,because his arms formed abrace around her body,drawing her in, holding hercloseand that close to hisface, she couldnt focusanyway.Anya, theyre coming too

close together, these pains.Imworried, Imworried foryou, little Annmaybe weshouldgoback.No! She pulled back a

moment, and when hewouldnt let her go, buriedherself more deeply into hischest. No, I wont go back.You heard what they weregoingtodo.Theyweregoingto sendmeawaywith thatwiththatman!Aye,away.Iknowit.He

held her, rocking her againstthe pain. But that manhewasnt an ordinary man.MaybehewasaHe was a wizard, she

said, her voice a tight scrapeof sound struggling free ofclenched teeth. And heddone his poking andprodding. She buried thewords again, as the paincame. Bit his shirt, whichhelped. Heard his grunt, andknew that shed bitten more

than shirtbut Devlin nevercomplained about anything.He was steady. They weregoing to send me away.Withoutyou.AnyaDev she bit her lip

until it bled, as shed donemany, many times these lastfew weeks. A wonder ithadnt scarred. A wonder.Dontyouloveme?Her voice sounded small,

even toherownears,andhe

answered with words andwithout, speaking androckingher, lettingherknowby motion and presence thathe loved her more thananyoneelsepossiblycould.Her parents had called for

thewizard.CalledhimallthewayfromthecityoftheTwinKings in theEasternEmpire.Never mind that they werefreetowners,anddamnproudofit.Onepriestessmumbledwords and theyd scattered

like chickens when facedwithafox.They were going to give

heraway.Anya, love, smart chickens

do scatterwhen facedwithafox.And leave their young

behind em? Nonot evenchickens do that.Well go totheto the WesternKingdoms. We can make alife together there. Find afarm, a place we can make

ourown. She hadnt told herparents, and he hadnt toldhis;theydpackedinbitsandpiecesoverahurrieddayanda night. And then, beforeAnyacouldbepackedupandsent off to the East, theydslid out of the confines oftheir parents houses andheaded out into the world todecidetheirownfate.Oh, the pain, the painwas

terrible.She felt her stomachshudder, and knew that her

kneeshadcollapsed,althoughthe ground didnt rush up tomeet her. The priestess hadsaid the pain wouldnt stopuntil she spoke with themage-born.ThepriestesshadsaidNot even the healer-born

canhelpwiththispain,Anya,if you could afford theirtouch.And all thewhile, hereyes were round and darkwith pity, as if Anya were alamehorse.

She bit her lip, or thoughtshe must have; blood welledup inhermouthas if itwerethe only drink shewas to beallowed.Shechokedonit,onsomething thick and chewy,and then she felt somethinghard between her teeth.Something her teeth couldclingto.She had never been so

afraid of fire in her life; sheknew it was burning her,burninghertoash.

Devlin!Im here; Im here, Annie.

Im not going anywherewithoutyou.Imhere.And it helped, to hear his

words, even if they soundedas if hed spoken themunderwater.There wasnt anyone she

lovedsomuchintheworldasshelovedDevlin.Hewastall,and handsome, and his hairwas likecopper,brushedandstraight;hiseyeswereadeep

blue that sometimes edgedinto gray when she leastexpectedit,liketheshadowedsecrets of a free town dusk.He wasnt the millers son,withhiswanderinghandsandhissourbreath;hewasnttheweavers son,whowanted toleave his mark on all theyoungwomen of the village,takingwhathecouldwithoutgiving anything much inreturn.Everygirlinthefieldshad

had an eye for DevlinaSmith, andhehehadhadeyes forAnya aCooper.Oh,not all at once, and evenwhen he knew that shewanted him, hed kept hisdistance because he thoughtshewas just a child.But shewas more than a child, andshed proved it in time. Justthis past year. After shedseen her fifteenth birthday,although by the priestessreckoning, shed been a

womansinceshewasjustshyoffourteen.Devlin was nineteen.

Almost twenty. Broadshouldered, and learning areal trade. And he was thebestman in the village, evenher mother said soexcepting, of course, herfather, although Anyaprivately thought thatbetween Devlin and herfather there wasnt muchcomparison.

Shedbeensohappy,evenwhen the pain had started.Evenwhenithadcomemoreand more often, until itseemed to always be there,she could ignore it becauseDevlin loved her. It waswhenitgotsharpandhotthatshed finally gone to apriestess. And the priestesshadspokenwithheratlength,andthenrisenwithaworriedlook, a creased sort of facewiththinlips.

ShedgivenAnyaherbs,inabitterbrew,thathelpedwiththe pain for a short whilebutonlyashortwhile,andintruth,notverymuch.The priestess had spoken

with her mother and father,andtheyhadcomehometiredand gray, hermother fussingin that sharp-tongued waythat mothers fuss whentheyreworriedandeveryoneelse isgoing toworry justasmuch, or else, and her father

going silent to his work,castingatroubledglanceoverhis shoulder a time or two,hushing the rest of hischildrenwhilewatchingthemwith that same terribleworrythat he now watched Anya.Asifshewasahailstormandtheyweretherestofthecrop.And then, weeks later, he

came,likethedoomoutofanold story, walking into hertownwhile the sunwas highandtheskywasclear.Hecast

a long shadow, but Devlinsensibly pointed out that itwasbecausehewastallandhe was tall, the tallest manshedeverseen.Hishairwaswhite as snow inwinter, andlonger than any sensible freetowners, and his eyes weregray and cool and hard, verymuch like metal. His handswere unblemished, and hisskin fair, and his clothingwell,hisclothing,hermothersaid, was probably worth

morethanacow.Hed told them hed

walked, but Anya didntbelieveit;thedustoftheroadhadawayofmarkingaman,and no mannoble-born orcommonas clayescaped it.Butthisonehad.Ive come from the Order

of Knowledge, at the behestof the church of theMother.He was polite and distantwhen he spoke to anyone,even Anya, but she knew

when she saw him that hewastheendofherlife.Hecame,andalthoughher

parentswereallowedtolistento himmore, she thought,for their comfort than herownhe did notacknowledge their presence.Hers, he did; he treated herwithwith careful respect.Hespokeatlength.Toher,inhisquietvoice.And that night, that night

shemadeherdesperateplans

to flee. Went to Devlin, towhom she would have beenmarried by the end of herseventeenth year, and toldhim that shemust leavewithhim,onthefollowingeve,orshe would never see himagain. It was, after all, thetruth.Ah,thepain,thefire.What she hadnt told

Devlin, and what she wasafraid he was beginning toguess,waswhatthemagehad

said:shewasmage-born,andcomingintoherpowerfartooquickly, and if she didntcomewithhim,shestoodnotonly to lose that powerwhich she didnt much careabout anywaybut quiteprobablyherlifeaswell.Thatwasexactlyhowhedwordedit.Quiteprobably.Ifshehadntbeensoafraid

of losing Devlin, she mighthavegonewiththemage.Butthe mage had made it plain:

there was only room for themage-born where she wasgoing, which meant noDevlin. And if shed toldDevlin,ifshedtoldhimwhatthatwhite-hairedstrangerhadsaid,thatshemightdiehedhave betrayed her; hedvesent her with the mage. Forherowngood.Devlin was the only thing

she wanted. Had been theonly thing she had everwanted.

Theyd put up their littletents;thesunsredgleamwascutbythosetentsintopreciseshapes as it lowered itselfdownthehorizonbehindtheirsmall encampment.The lightwouldfadequickly,andwhenthe last of its color had bledinto blues so deep theywerealmost black, the demonswouldbeallowedtofeed.Theywerefeedingnow,at

an uncomfortable distance,the muffled intensity of the

younggirlspainahintofthesustenancethattheyhadbeenforced, by dint of theSummoning, to forgo. TheHells, they feared, were losttothemandiftheyhadeverknown another realm, it wasburied in the memory of afleshmuch different than theflesh the world hadsurrenderedtotheirreturn.Thus it was with the kin:

They tended the gardens andthe monuments of the Hells

withakeenand lovinghand.But in a time beyond thememory of all but the mostpowerful, theyhadbeenbornto the earth, to the old earth,and the world rememberedtheir names and their spirits.A cunning mage couldstumble across those names,andifhewaswillingtomakea bargain of blood and timewith the old world, he couldforce the demon to return tothe land of human life and

vice; the world itself closedround the kin in a shape, aphysical formatoncenaturalandforeigntotheSummonedcreature.They wore such shapes

now: things of ebony andsilver, bodies long and darkwith slender claws, longfingers.Twoweeks;twoweeksand

more, they had watched thisgirl and this boy. LordIshavriel himself came

frequently, to take theirreports,tocasthisspells,andto listen. But today, finally,thewatchingstopped.Kill the girl as you

please, he told his twoservitors, but do not harmtheboy.Ishavriel-kevar smiled

thinly,butAlgratzdidnot;hestudied his lords expression.Whatwouldyouhaveusdowiththeboy?Frighten him, their lord

replied,butcarefully.Algratzthoughthimill-pleasedbythetenor of the question. Orperhaps by the interruption.Beforeyoutakethegirl,youmust force him to desert her.Break his spirit; offer him achoice between his life andhers.Itmustbeclear,tohim,and to the girl, what hischoice was. He paused amoment, to give his wordsweight, and then he lookedback at the tents framed by

sinkingsunlight.Ishavriel-kevar laughed

andnodded,strainingeagerlyas the suns light ceased itsdance upon the windsweptwatersofthelake.ButAlgratzasked.Why?Because, Ishavriel

replied, I so order. Hisvoicelostalltraceofwarmth,and there had been littleenough of it, and that allcarnal. Or do you challengeme,here?

No,LordIshavriel.Good.Hisgaze,wrapped

inafacethatappearedalmosthuman, was the color of thesetting sun. The boy ismine, he said, relentingslightly. Afterhehas fled, Iwillhunthim.Ishavriel-kevar nodded,

impatient to be gone. Theywouldsharethegirlandleavetheboytohim.Itmadesense.Still, Algratz began his

approach through the tall

grass and the low shrubberymore cautiously than hiscompanion. Think, Kevar,he said, granting the demonthe use of free name. TheLord has forbidden allhunting of humans until thegatheringandtheSummoningiscomplete.Andourlordhasgivenus

permission.If our lord angers the

Lord, who do you think ourlord will offer as

compensationforthecrime?But Ishavriel-kevar was

beyond caring, and as theshadowcircletheirfeettracedbrought them closer andcloser to the small, roughtent,Algratzwell understoodwhy:shewas there.Herpainwas lessening, which wasunfortunate.Butthepainthatshe felt now would benothingcomparedtowhatthekinmight inflict.Towhathemight,were she trembling in

hishands.It had been such a long

time.Such a long time, to be

forbiddenthehuntingandthereaving.He glanced over hisshoulder and saw that LordIshavriel waited, impassive,where they had left him; heintendedtowitnesstheevent.To intervene, Algratzthought, ifhis servants failedhim.Ashesteppedforward, the

crickets fell silent; the nightanimalsand there were nota fewfroze or fled. Acareful human, in lands asdensewiththeoldearthslifeas the forested stretchbetween the small mortaldemesnes, could trace thepath of his approach by thesilence it engenderedforsuch silences as these wereloudandunnatural.But the girls pain was

guttering, and the boy was

involved with it, almost asmuch as they were; therewouldbenodetection.Noescape.He was wary, but as he

approached, as the sound ofthegirlsbreathgrewasloudtohisearasherebbingpain,he saw Ishavriel-kevar dartforward, off the path, blackhands outstretched, clawsready to cut a swath throughthetentsside.He knew that Lord

Ishavriel planned something;knew further that the risk hetookthe breaking of theLords lawwas a risk onlyif there were witnesses,coconspirators, and thatwitnesseswereoftendisposedof when the workwas done.Hecouldnotthinkofasinglereason why Ishavriel neededeither Algratz or Ishavriel-kevar; a simple girl and asimpleboycouldhaveeasilybeen disposed of by one of

the Kialli with no one thewiser.Natureintervened:Algratz,

of the two, was the morepowerful demon, and hecould not let Ishavriel-kevartake first what was his byrightofpower.Faster, sleeker, and more

completeinhisarc,helandeda foot ahead of the slightlyslower demonandwhen hecut through the rough, oiledcloth of the tent, the fabric

provided so little resistancethetentbarelyshiveredwhenhalfitssidefellaway.Welcome, he said, in a

voice made guttural byanticipation and desire, toHell.

There was a moment ofterrified silence; he savoredit,stretchingitoutforaslongashecould.Shebrokeit,andherscreamwasgratifying,anechoof theAbyss.Hewould

have savored the scream justas deeply as the silence, butIshavriel-kevar intervened,stepping into the breachedwallandgrabbingtheboy.Theboykickedandtwisted

in his graspjust as a soulmight writhe, with just asmuch success. DevlinaSmith, Ishavriel-kevarsaid, and the boy slumped ina sick shock that even soulsdidnotdisplay.Withhisfreehand, Ishavriel-kevar tore the

tent from its moorings,uprooting and scattering itspegsinasinglemotion.Shedisappearedamoment

in its foldsbut only amoment; Algratz spoke aword and the tent unfurled,exposingher.Shewaswhite,whiteasstarlightandthefaceofthedarkmoon.Hecaughther inhishands

at once;marveled at the feelof her flesh, at the fact of it,thatsomething thisweakand

thin and yielding hadmanagedtosurvivesolong.Almostcasually,heridher

ofherclothing,slicingitclearfrom throat-hem to skirtsedge,asif itwerealiveinitsown right, and he anexecutioner. He heard herlovelywhimper; she had losthervoiceinfear,butherfearitself carried everything thatheneededtohear.At his side, he heard the

unmistakable sound of flesh

being split, a small tear, aslow one. It had a cadenceand rhythm of its own, andwhen the boy screamed interror, and in agony, and inanticipation, the two soundsblended, melody andharmony.She did not hear it, he

thought; she was concernedwith her own fate, her ownplight.When she opened herbruised lips, a single wordescaped them. DEVLIN!

Allthesweetfearinthenamewas her own, it was of her,forher.Hecouldalmosttasteit; could taste it. It had beensolong.She kicked at him,

abradingherheelsagainsthisskin; he bore her down intothetallgrass,allthewhiletheboys name filling his earsand her lungs. And then helaughed, louder than shescreamed, a deep, rich soundthat hinted at the eternity of

theAbyssforamortalwhosesoul was, pitiably, far frommakingtheChoice.Ah,well.Hedidnothaveaneternity.Hehadherlife,foraslong

as it lasted,and then,beyondthat, three days in which tobindhersoulandholdit.But first, Lord Ishavriels

command.Ishavriel-kevar! The

pitch of his voice wasunnaturally loud. Will youwasteyourtimewiththeboy

whenwehavewhatwecamefor?Devlin!Hesilencedhera

moment with his lips, andwhen he drew back, herswere reddened with blood;shechokedashetouchedhergently.Asgentlyasheknewhow. Her voice was goneagain,gonetosilenceandthestillness of breath held by aperson who hasalmostforgotten that she needs tobreathetosurvive.

Algratz caressed her withthe sharp edge of claws thatdid not quite draw blood.Footsteps accompanied themovement of his handsagainst the stillness of herflesh.He recognized them atonce: The heavy, stalkingtread of Ishavriel-kevar, andthe fleet-footed, grass-tearingscramble of a terrified, half-crazed mortal. But she didnot, he thought; she did notknowwhowascoming.

He lowered himself overher,andthen,asthetallgrassparted and the shadow ofIshavriel-kevar was lentsubstance by the moon, hesmiled.Amoment,hewaited,until he saw thewidening ofher eyes, and then hewhispered four gutturalwords.Runforyourlife.The sound of the fleeing

boys ragged breath andunevenstepswastakenbythe

lakeandtheairandthewindandmadelouder,madefinal.Devlin!DEVLIN!His name echoed,

unanswered. Lake waterlappedatit,eatingawayatitsedges until even the namewasgone.Shewasalone.Withthem.Heenteredherthen,asthe

realization did, because thiswasthefirstofherfears,andheintendedtovisitthemall.

Devlin.They hurt her. The one,

and then the other, great,terrible shadows that shonewith the harsh light of newsilver,ofsilverthathasneverknown time. What she hadkept from the millers brutalson, what she had offeredshyly at first, and theninsistently, to Devlin, theytook,andinthetaking,madeherrealizethatshehadneverhadanythingtofearfromthe

millersson.Devlin.They hurt her, and then

they left her a moment, likegarbage, in an unclean,bleeding heap. She lifted herhead and saw the tent, likeher dress, spread and tornacross the goldenrod and tallgrass,whiteinthepoorlight,arevenant.Shetriedtostand,bunching her knees beneathher limp body and pushingher weight up; throwing her

handsouttostopherbodyinmotion from returninggroundwardtooheavily.The tears were on her

cheeks, and theywerewater,andtheyburned.Why?Why?Devlin.

ItangeredAlgratz;angeredandconfoundedhim.HewasnotKialli, but he was a freecreature, inasmuch as any ofthekin couldbe,who served

the Lord of the Hells. Heunderstood pain; no one ofthekindidnot.Eventheimpseven the lesser, squeakinggnats of the outer regionshad it bred into their brittle,tinybones.But the pain he inflicted

heredidnot touch thegirl asdeeplyorasviscerallyas thepain that the boy caused byhisflight.Is this what you hoped to

gain?hethought,asthesilver

curvesofhisclawsslicedhisown palm in reflexive anger.It would be Lord Ishavrielsgameto give and to takewiththesamegesture.Is thiswhyyouorderedustolettheboyflee?She had not, he noticed,

evenmadetheattempttoflee.No,wait;sherose.Hehadsohoped to make her last forhours, for days; hesurrendered that hope now.Hehadnodoubtthathecould

make her surrendereverything, but all of thelovelysubtlety,allofthepainthatmight be causedwithoutlethal damagethat was losttohim.Angry, and hungry, he

stalked forward as shelurched to her feet. If therewas no subtlety, there wasstill victor and a victim, andthatatleastwassomething.Ascrap. From Ishavrielsdominion.

She heard him and sheturned at once, lurching,overbalanced.She stumbled out of his

way, evading his grip, andshreddedtheskinofherhandon the hand of hiscompanion; the shock wasbracing in its clarity, itsunexpectedness.She seemed almost

confused, and stepped back,bleeding, naked, her wholehand clutching her wounded

one, as if she would beallowed, in the end, to keepeither.Whatwhat do you

want?They, neither of them,

chose toanswer, sensing thattheirsilencewasworse;inthesilence,shemightfashionthewords shemost dreaded, andsaythem,overandover.She drew back, and her

eyes were white and wide;almost gratifying. Almost

enough.But when Algratz finally

touched her, scudding alongtheundersideofherskinwiththe very tip of his fingers,when she finally screamed,thepainwasstilldistinct.Devlin!

She heard the footstepswith a wild hope, a crazedand terrified hope; thewordson her lips were a rush ofgiddiness, of forgiveness, of

angerthat he could leaveher, but it might be all rightsomehowifhecouldjustsavehernowandtellherwhyBut even in the moons

terrible light, so white andharshandbrilliant,hervisioncouldnotcontort themovingblur into Devlins shape; itwastootallandtoofast.Anditcarried,ofallthings,

asword.The creature peeling the

skin from her arm froze

stiffly as the sword passedthrough its body, startingfrom the crook of its ebonyneck and ending at the jointof its hip. She thought itunharmed, for it seemed toturnButthatwasnightillusion;

the shadows gave lie to themovement and the body fell,at once, into distinct pieces.The grass burned where itlanded;theairburned.The other creature turned,

jumped, leaped into the air;he cried out in anger, hisvoiceharshandmetallic.Butthemanwiththeswordandhewasamanonly laughedas the, creature turned andfled.Fled.She stood alone by the

lakeside, the insects wakingto the warmth of her bodyandthepromiseofherblood.Hebowed,hisbowsoperfectheremindedher,inthesingle

motion, of the silver-hairedmage.Themagewhowastheendofherworld.She couldnt see for tears.

And wwhat do you want,then?Hesheathedhisswordand

bowed again, turning hisglancetotheblackenedpatchof earth that would notsupport life for decades. Itwas all that remained of thedemons corpse. With greatcare, he unfastened the

goldenclipsof thechain thatheld his cloaks collartogether.Heraisedit,slowly,gently, and then, folding itcarefully, placed it upon thegroundathisfeet.As if she were a hungry,

wildanimal,hebackedaway,every movement slow anddeliberate. She knew it, ofcourse; shed seenDevlin doit a hundred times. She hadevendoneitherself.Devlin.

Her knees collapsed whenshe took a step forward. Sherose;themanhadnotmoved.Scrambling, dirt in the cutsand the scrapes of her hand,shereachedforhiscloakandwrapped it as tightly aroundher body as she ever had ablanket after a terriblenightmare.Anya, her unknown

companionsaid,speakingforthefirsttime.Shelookedupatthesound

ofhername.Come, child. This is not

the place for you. I havekilled one of the kin, but theotherwillreturn.She shook her head, mute

inthefaceofhiswords.Child, he said again, his

voice not unkind. There isno safety in anything butstrength. His gaze was asmuch a measure of her asEmily aMartin had evermade when dressing her for

church.Devlin.You should not have

trusted a boy, he said, as ifhe could hear her thoughts.Shewouldlearn,later,thathecoulddoexactlythat.And why should I trust

you?shedemanded,withthethick layer of his soft, heavycloak as her armor and hershield.Thegrassgrewtallasherhipsthistimeofyear,andthe goldenrod and milkweed

tallerstill.His smile was cold as

moonlight, as cold as silver;as cold, she thought, as theclaws of the creature he hadkilled. Because, Anya, Ihave power. What do youdesire? If youwish to returntoyourhome,Iwilltakeyouthere.Devlin. She looked up at

him, and the tears started, athin, terrible train down thebruised mask of her face.

Whereareyougoing?I? To my home, little

Anya. He held out a hand,and it seemed natural to her,asshemet theabsoluteblackof his eyes, that she shouldtake it, and be comforted.Andifyouwishit,youwillfind safety and warmththere.And who arewho are

you?I?IamLordIshavriel.She did not think to ask

himwhat the creatureswere.Didnotthinktoaskhimwhythey had come for her. Didnot think to ask why he hadbeen there,sword inhand, inthemiddleofastretchoflandbetween the free towns andtheWesternKingdoms.Therewas only one question thatburned at her, that burnedmore terribly than the painthat had, in the end, drivenherfromthefreetownofherbirth.

And she could not ask it,andbecauseshedidnothavethe release of speaking italoud,itconsumedher.Devlin, how could you

leavemetodie?Never trust a human,

Anya aCooper, LordIshavrielsaid.Fortheywantwhat they want soephemerally, so pitiably. Ahuman knows fear, and onlyfear;fearguideshim,notoathor honor. The moon faded

slowlyashespoke.Hisvoicewassoftnow,almostdistant.I am Lord Ishavriel, he

told her softly. And I fearnothing.He caught her in his arms

asshefell,andbroughtherupand up to the center of hisbroadchest,cradlingherasifshewereababeinarms,andasmalloneatthat.Thewindwas awild taste

in her mouth. Ashes. Fire.Salt.

When the demons camehuntinghim,hewasready.Not to fight; scant hours

had passed, and he was noclosertohomeoraweaponthan hed been whentheyd first come upon him.But the flight had brokensomethinginDevlinaSmith,and it was only hours later,stumbling with exhaustioninto the hard crook betweentwolargerocksonthesideofa hills shelf, that he could

evenacknowledgeit.Hewasacoward.Everything else that hed

ever believed about himselfhad been stripped away likethefleshofhisfinger;hewasjust as cowardly as theweaversweaselofason.Aie,eventhatwasalie.He was worse. The

weavers flaxen-haired boyhad never once promised tolove and cherish and protect.Had never, in words and in

more than words, told a girlas trusting as Anya that hewouldbewillingtothathewoulddieforHewastooexhaustedtobe

sick; hed been sick severaltimes already, and none ofthem had helped; bile hadscoured his throat and stunghislipsandofferednorelief.Therewas nothing I could

do!Heknewitfortruth.Ah, but it cut, it cut becausewhat he knew and what he

believed didnt quite meet.The words were a hollow,brittleshieldbehindwhichhecould hide from the eyes ofanymanAnymansavehimself.Oh, he tried; he still tried.

Forjustafewminuteslonger.No, its not trueI couldnthave saved her. All I couldhavedonewasdie.Hisdeathwould have served nopurpose.No purpose but this: it

wouldprovethathewaswhathe had always promisedhimself he would be. Brave.True.Honest.He could hear her

screaming his name everytimehestoppedtorest.Couldheartheterrorinit,andthen,worse, the terrible, terribleloss that came with, camefrom,betrayal.Itateathim,devouredhim

fromwithin.Buthecouldnomorecastitoffthanhecould

the sunlight; he livedwith it,ashecould.When he saw the ebon

shapes in the pale afternoonlight, he was giddy with aterrible relief, although hisbreath quickened and hisheart raced and his bodydesiredtobetrayhim.As it had already done

once.Ithadkilledhim.Buthehadnotacceptedhis

death; therewere stories like

that, of bodies whose soulhad already deserted them,and which had to be laid torest.Justso.Hecouldacceptitnow.He

had no strengthand nodesireto flee. Swallowing,hesawthesunlightglistenoffthe sinews of their muscles,off the silver of their claws;only their eyes seemed todrink the light in, absorbingit, consuming it. They weretheworld;thetreeslostcolor,

and the goldenrod and themilkweed and the brilliantblue of forget-me-nots thatwere, that remained, theflowerofAnyaschoice.And as he watched them,

dazed, the sun bearingwitnesstothisfinalactintheplay begun an eternity and anightpast, he thought thattheywere, in the strangestofways, so terribly, terriblybeautiful. That they werestrong, that theywerewhole,

that they moved witheffortless, perfect grace,perfectstrength.He wanted to close his

eyes, but they held him,hypnotized, and he toldhimself, as the distancebetween the demons and therocks grew smaller andsmaller, that theywere reallyonlyadoorway.Adoorway,afterall,tothe

Halls of Mandaros, whereinhe might meet his Anya.

Mightmeet her, and beg herforgiveness andand askher, as he never had, as shealwaysaskedhim:Doyoustillloveme?

When the lightning fellfrom the clear blue skywithout even the clouds topresage its coming, heblinked. It was a flash ofincandescent light, a thingwithout thunder; it wasalmost beyond his

comprehension.Almost.But it was not beyond the

comprehension of thecreatureswho promised him,with the death they brought,reunion. For they were thefield of his vision, and theywere what the lightningsforksought.Coulddeathscream?Helearned theanswer that

late afternoon, watching, therockshardathisback, roughbeneathhisthighs,hiscalves.

He cried out, as they criedout, and he could not havesaidwhether thecrywasoneof denial or terror or relief;his heart froze as theirshadows did, as they turnedto look up, and around,seekinganenemy.Was it an act of Cartanis?

DidtheLordofJustWarride,solate,tohisrescue?Amomentshope,andthen

it was gone, as much ash aswood fed to the fires.

Cartaniswasawarriorsgod,notacowardsgod;hewouldnot raise a finger in aid of aman who had abandoned hisresponsibility and broken hisvow.Nogodwould.Butthen?Lightning,forked,blueand

gold and white. Cracklingwith an intensity that brokethe darkness. And thedarkness, in this open day,walkedontwolegs.THERE! One of the

creaturescried,andheturnedturned away from Devlin.Ahollownessfilledtheyoungman, a hallowing emptiness.He opened his lips andswallowed air, choking on itasif itwerewater,oravery,very strong draught. Hissenses returned to him: Hecould taste the blood in hismouth,smellitonhisclothes,andmorebesides:sweat,fear.He tried to stand. Legs thathad carried him this far

locked;theywouldcarryhimnofartherthisday.The boy! The other

creaturecried.Killhim!Ah,death.But as he waited, as the

death came long-clawed andsudden, he saw the lightningforthethirdtime.Thistimeitwasno tentativeflash: itwasathingthatcaught.Andheld.And burned. He could notlook; thewhitewassobrightandthepainofthecreatureso

visceral he had to bring hishands up to his eyesandthen, tohisears.Butnothingtook the smell out of hisnostrils; it clung there,burningflesh.Burning flesh, as if the

demons were, and could be,only flesh. In the end, therewas silence and when thesilence had reigned for long,for long enough, he openedhiseyes.The shadows still waited,

but they were no longershiny, nor graceful, nor new;theywerenotblack,butblue,a deep blue of the kind thatonlytheeveningskysees.Hefollowed their folds up, andup, aware that his gaze hadstarted at the ground onlywhen it finally met hers:violet eyes in a pale,carewornface.Sheheldoutahand.DevlinaSmith, she said

softly.

He could not speak. Theworldreturnedtohimslowly,andthelife.Hestood, tookateetering step, scraped hishand against the gray-red ofrock stained with blood; hisblood;thatwastheshadowhecast.Hishandachedterribly.She saw it, and her brow

furrowed, but she movedslowly, as if afraid to startlehim.Hedidnotstepawayassheraisedherotherhand,andstarted once when she spoke

in a language that was notlanguage. He might havepulled back then, but shemovedquickly,encirclinghiswristwithherhand.So, she said to herself,

this is how it was. Andbeforehecouldaskherwhatshemeant,hesawfirestartinher hand; a fire that waswhite.Heclosedhiseyes.And screamed as she

seared his flesh and boneaway.

He clutched his hand,stepping into the rocks againas he sought to protect itandhimselffromhissavior.She spoke, but the pain stillheldsomuchofhisattentionthewordswereatickleinhisear. Hewould wonder, later,if the words themselves hadbeensignificant.A moment passed; he

stareddownathisfinger.Noblood, no exposed bone,remained; the finger was

puckered with an ugly redscar, but it was whole. Aneater job than any save theMotherspriestessmighthavedone.But theMothers priestess

wouldnotcausesomuchpaininthehealing;thepainofthecure lingered, andwould, foras long as the pain of thecause,anecho;atwin.Whowho are you?

And then, as a wild hopeseized him, he added, Anya

didyousaveAnya,too?Her smile was graven in

stone,coldandbitter;hadhenotbeen lookingat her eyes,he would not have seen theflickerofpain in them.Idonot choose, Devlin, who Iwill saveorwho Iwill leavetodeath.Thehopelefthiminarush,

andhecollapsed.You cannot stay here.

Lord Ishavriel will know,soon, that his servitors have

failed; he will send others,and they will be . . . lesseasilydisposedof.WhoisLordIshavriel?I have already said

enough,Devlin.Hesademon?He is more than just a

demon. Come. If we debatetheologyforanotherhour,wewill both perish. Thesecreatures were blood-bound;even at this distance, hewillfeeltheirdeaths.Sheoffered

himaringedhand;hetookit.Whoareyou?I? Call me Evayne. She

paused, and her violet eyesnarrowed as she lookedmomentarily groundward.Evayne aNolan, she said,as if the saying of the namewascostly.YoureanImperial?Imafreetowner.Iwas.Herelaxedat that; itmade

her smile again. The smilewas not a comforting, or a

comfortable, expression.How do you know who Iam?Askme that in ten years;

perhaps in ten years I cananswer. Her smiled wasbitter and brief. Or perhapsintwenty.Orperhapsnever.Wherewhere are we

going?Would you go to your

home,Devlin?He started to nod and his

head froze, and he became

aware, fully, that he had lostmore than Anya, and morethan himself, on thisafternoon:hehadlostallelse,all family. He could notreturntothemwiththiscrimeon his head. He could notfacethem.Buthehadnomoney, and

nogear; everythinghadbeenleftatthecampsite.No.Her cloak lifted; later, he

wouldrememberthatshehadnottoucheditatall,butatthe

time it seemed natural, athrowing off of guises.Nothing about this womanwas natural. Beneath thecloak she had three things.The first was a pack. Thesecondwasabedroll.Andthethirdthe thirdwasasword.Its scabbard was almostunadorned; it was black andlong, with a silver tip and asilvermouth.Butinitscentertherewasa large,clear stonethatcaught thelightandheld

it brilliantly. He wasnt ajeweler, but he thoughthethoughtitmightbereal.IsitIts not a magical sword,

if thatswhatyoureasking,shereplied,withjustahintofwryness. But if you willmakealifeforyourself,thereisalifewaiting.Haveyounotheard,Devlin?TheEmpireisatwar.War?The free towns obviously

dont feel the Southerners attheirborders.WiththeSouth?With the Dominion, yes.

Thewar startedayearago; Ifear that it may continue foratleastanother.Thesearethegames that men play, whodesirepower.Youll see what war

means, Devlin. Dont forgetthe cost of it. She paused,and set the pack and thebedroll downathis feet.The

sword, she lifted in twohands. This swords makerwas a man torn by his ownpast and his desire forvengeance. Ibelieve thatyouwill understand him, or youwould have, had you met.Takeit.He hesitated, and then

nodded.Itwaseasiertoobeyher than it was to thinktothink about what he was,now.Thebladewasboundtoits

scabbard; he cut the stringsthat held it, and then,effortlessly, he drew thesword.He hefted it, swinging it

lightly to and fro, in everfaster arcs.As the sonof thevillage smith, he knewweapons, for his father hadcome from theEmpire itself,with a weapon-smithsknowledge of armsand inthe free towns, arms werevalued, especially in the

warm seasonswhen Imperialbandits thought to take asmall unprotected townsmerchants.Thisswordwaslightforall

its weight and heft; it turnedeasilyinhishand;itsbalancewas fine. Lifting it to thelight, he studied its edge. Itwas so perfect, he thought ithadneverseenaforges test,nevermindbattle.Thiswasaswordhisfather

wouldhavekilledfor.

Hisfather.The momentary wonder

wasguttered.Devlin.Come.She turned and began to

walk, and it seemed that hergait was slow and awkward.He followed at once, andofferedheranarmagestureasnaturaltohimasbreath.She did not take it. We

havelittletime,andyoumustbe away, although the gemupon the sword will protect

you from his sight unless hehimself is close. And sheclimbed up the hill, strongand spry for all that shewalkedslowly.There, waiting impatiently

ingrassestoosummer-hardtobe good eating, was a horse.Itwasbrownandslendernoplow horse or cart horse thisanditssidesstillheaved,asif it had just been run, andhard.Take these, she said

softly. The Imperial army islooking for men, for goodmen.Then they wont take

me.Theyll take you, she

answeredquietly.Thewarisgrowingbitter,andtheyneedthe men. You come with ahorse,afineone,andaswordthats finer still. Here, sheadded, take this. Buyyourselfarank, ifyoullfinda House that will let you.

Her face was pale. I knowthat Im sending you to thewolves, boybut learn to bea wolf. Its all you havenow.As if she knew. As if she

knewhiscrime.He mounted the horse

awkwardly, and she paled.Devlinyou do know howtoride,dontyou?Some, he answered

curtly, because it was thetruth.Butitwasntmuchofa

truth; hed ridden rarely, andmoreofteninwagonandcartthanonhorseback.Heturnedthe horse around. Turned itback.And then he glanced over

his shoulder to saysomething, to offer thisstrangerthanks.She was looking at her

handat the rings on herhandwith some curiosity.Therewerefour;shetouchedthem,oneata time,andthen

when she came to the last, arubyofredfireandbrillianceeven at the distance thatseparated them, she pulled ithard. It did not budge. Hemight have offered to help,but he knew her now assorcerer,andhewasntafool.Justacoward.In time, she said,

althoughhedidntunderstandwhy.Itisnotyetyourtime.Before he could speak, shelifted a hand. Never thank

me,Devlin. It is . . .hardonme. She smiled; it was ableakexpression,abitterone.He might have spoken inspite of her request, but shetookastepforward,andtherewassuddenlynoonetospeakto.Thehorse shudderedonce,

and Devlin began to ease itintoawalk.Buthedidnotgoeast,not

yet;hewentwest.Tofacethetruth,andtofacehimself.

The lake, in the summerday,wasalivewiththeglitterof dragonflywings, the buzzof insects, the flight of birdslarge and small. As heapproached, he could see theflat,tornsquarethathadoncebeen the tent that he andAnya had shared. Beside it,like so much refuse, thebedroll shed been torn outof;itwaswhole.Hesawashinthesandypit

theyd made for their fire,

saw theblack sootofburnedwood against stone. Hishands were heavy on thereins, his breath tight.Minutes passed; the sunrestedupondarkhair,heatingit, as if in judgment. Thehorsetheunnamed,toofinehorsewas restive beneathhim,almostanxious,asifhe,too, knew what had beendone here.Devlin urged himforward, and the horse went.Barely.

If he owned the horse,truly,Devlin thought, slidingout of the saddle, the horsewas going to have tounderstand who was master,andwhomount.Butnotnow.Notnow.He tookadeepbreath and

begantosearchthegrass.Forher. The blade saw its firstuse, against tall stalks ofgreen-gray; white tufts flewin the wayward breeze as hecut loose pods of milkweed.

Hereandthere,birdsflewup,chattering in fear orfrustration, brown wingsspread to catch the wind, touse it. They were, all thesethings, clouds that hemovedthrough.Hehadtofindherbody.We have little time, and

youmustbeaway.His search grew more

franticasthesunrose.Hehadleft her to diebut he couldnot leave her to rot. The

Mothers arms had not yetbeen opened to receive thismost precious of herdaughters, and he would dothislastthingforherbecausehe had failed in every otherway.Butsearchashemight,this

lastactofpenitencewastobedeniedhim.Thegrassyieldednothing.He was a coward, he

thought bitterly, to the end,becausehemountedthehorse

that the strangerhad lefthiminsteadofpursuinghissearchinto the lake, and the woodssurrounding it, as if thesearch itself were all thatmattered.No.Hestillwantedlife.Hadhe

ever toldher thathis lifehadno meaning without her? Hewondered,andithurthim.This, then,was the burden

he carried with him fromthese lands that no man

owned:Adeathandalife.Andhewould ride towar,

carrying such a burden, andhe would ride from war,carryingit,andearnhisrank,andaccepthisdecorations,allthe while carrying it sonaturally and so completelythat none but he might beawareofitsnature.Theymightcallhimbrave,

who couldnt see how muchhe had to prove. Theymightevencallhimhonorable,who

didnotseejusthowdeep,andhowdark,thestainsuponhishandscouldbe.

CHAPTERONE

20thofMisteral,427AATheShiningPalace

ANYA decided there shouldberabbits.Thisrealizationcameupon

her while she stood at theheightofthepalacewingthathoused the human Court.Whiletheyhuddledinside,in

their draping cloaks of flat,shiny fur, she stood justbeyond the balcony thatopened, wind, snow, or sun,intotheNorthernWastes, theflatofherfeetagainsttherawstoneofadragonsswoopingneck. That dragon hunched,wings arched, just past thestone rails of the wide, deepbalcony, looking down itsserpentine nose across thestartlingwhiteofthemorningsnow aboveand beyond

theCity,asifinmid-breath.The stone was cold and

roughbeneaththepadsofherfeet; she couldnt decidewhether or not she liked thefeeling. But even given thatindecision she knew thiswasnot the way dragon skinshouldfeel.Sheknewtheoldstories; dragons should havescales.Andthosescalesshouldbe

larger than amans arm, andsmooth. Definitely smooth.

This old stone thing lookedmore like a giantwormwithwingsandteeth.Shehesitatedamoment.Since she had moved the

throne, Lord Ishavriel hadbeen in a bad mood. Andalthough he never raised hisvoice,andnever tried tohurther,shedidntlikeitwhenhewasangry.But she did have her

throne,now.Shecould sit init whenever she wanted, and

listen to the colors thatglimmered along theshadowed floors, likedangerous old friends, theirvoices unmuted, theirbrightness undimmed. Shecould taste their shadesthroughthetipsofherfingersalthough admittedly thatwas rareand sometimes,when shewasvery tired, shecouldspeakwiththem.She spoke to them now,

buttheyweredistant.

But that was shadow, andshe could think about thatanytime. Today she hadrememberedrabbits.Sheusuallyhatedmemory.

It was all bad. It took herbacktotheuglytimes,beforeshehadbeen taught justhowspecial, how powerful, shewas. She had consideredmaking a spell that wouldstop her from rememberinganything, everbut LordIshavrielhadtoldheritwasa

Bad Idea, and she haddecidedtotrusthim.Andtherabbitsprovedthat

hewasright.Today, shehadbeen taken

back to a time when colorsweresomethingshecouldseewith eyes alone; they had notaste, no voice, no sensation.She could hear conversationas if spoken words had nosmells; could touch softfabrics, hard wood, coldmetals,asifthey,astheyhad

once been, were once againdevoidoftaste.And when that happened,

shetreasuredthememoryanddid everything in her powertopreserveit.Everything.She was Anya aCooper.

Therewasalotshecoulddo.Butthestoneagainstherbarefeet was really starting tobother her, it was just sowrong.

Across the grounds of theShining Palace, from theheights of its towers to thedepthsof itshidden recesses,itscavernousdungeons,thosecreatureshuman or kinwith a sensitivity to magic,lifted their heads in perfectunison, as if struck by thesame blow, no matter howmany walls, how muchphysical distance, separatedthem.It had become thus since

the Lords ceremony; theinvestiture ofHis power intothe flawed but inarguablypowerfulmadwomanhadnotperturbed her in the slightestbut ithadhadtheeffectofdeepening the range of hercareless,whimsicalmagery.Hadtheynothadtoendure

the results, and the resultanthazards, of the blending ofimmortal and mortal power,there were men within thewalls of the Shining Palace

who would have found theentireexperimentfascinating.Those men now flinched;they were closest to thebalcony upon which Anyahadchosentostand.Closest to the roar that

crushed conversation, stilledmovement,filledsilencefromoneendoftheShiningPalacetotheother.The wall that was flimsy

protection from the Northerncoldcrackedlikethiniceand

fellawayfromthelineofthebrilliantbluesky.Against it, for those who

cared to look,stood themad,mad mage, conversing withanangrydragon,acreatureofstoneandglitteringscale.

Anya, the dragon said, itsvoice rich with the heavyscent of newly turned earth,its words a deep, deep blue.She could feel each syllablecrawling across the backs of

her hands as they furledaround air thatwas suddenlycold; there was magic here.The sensations were alwayssharpest in the presence ofmagic.She withdrew her own

power without thinking, andthesolesofherfeet,protecteduntil thenbecause she likedbare feetfrom the bittercold,nowshriekedinprotest.She could hear their voicelike the rush of a thousand

sibilantwhispers.Shedidnt likeitwhenher

feetspoke.But the dragon roared

again, distracting her fromherpain.But they look so much

better! she shouted.Everyone knows realdragonshavescales!ThusdidtheLordofNight

converse with the mostpowerful, and the least sane,of his many servants, and it

musthave amusedhim todoso, for although the outcomeof such an argument couldnever be in doubt, the factthat it existed at all saidmuch.

20thofMisteral,427AATheTerafinManse

Themoonwasbright, theairstill, the starlight lessenedbythe presence of thin cloudsthat huddled, shroudlike,

beforeitssilveredface.Amanstoodalonebeneath

the delicate light of theAveralaan night. The seasbreaking rumble was aconstant rhythm, theheartbeatof theHighCity; itcouldbeheardinthedistancebecause so many othersounds were absent: themovement of people, theirbreath broken by laughter ortheharsh,sharpbarkofangrysyllables; the clipped, steady

pace of the horses that drewcarriages and coaches frommanse to manse along theIsle; the heavy tread of theKings Swords as theypatrolledtheHighCitywithavigilancenotfoundintheOldCity.True,thosesoundswereof

necessity distant even duringtheheightofday,buthehadbecomeawareofthem.Had found it necessary to

become aware of them;

Amarais, named before herrise to power Handernesse,and then HandernesseATerafin, had become assilent as stone. Yes, stone,Morretz thought bleakly,avoiding the othercomparison that was socolloquialandinelegant.The Terafin was careful,

during the hours of day, totendherHouseandtheaffairsof her House as if nothingtroubled her. As if she had

had no warning of herimpending death; as if deathitself was the distanteventualityitwouldbefortherest of herHouse.But in theeveningssheallowed thefullweight of that knowledge todescend upon her, andshrouded by it, protected byit,shesoughtthesolaceoftheTerafin Shrinealthoughjudging by her expression,both before and after, it wasmeagersolaceindeed.

He waited. He found itincreasingly difficult to waitatadistance,althoughhehadalways waited here, at theedgeofthispath,forthelordhe had chosen to serve somanyyearsago.Thatservicenow counted for more thanhalfofhislife.Amarais.She would die. She had

accepted it with a peculiar,angry grace that Morretzhimselfhadfailedtoachieve.

Hehid it; hehid itwell.Buthisdayswereabsorbedbythequestion of her survival; hismorningswhen he hadascertained forhimself that asimplethinglikethemorningmeal would not kill herbegan, and often ended,withDevonATerafin.Devon,whounderstoodthe

routines of assassinationbetterthananyothermemberof the House, up to andprobablyincludingtheman

orwomanwhowouldintheendsuccessfullyemploythemagainst The Terafin. He hadto.HeservedtheLordof theCompact as amember of hisAstari, and he protected theTwinKings.The Terafin had not, of

course, specifically toldMorretz to keep his peaceandhissilenceinthisaffair.Nor should she have had

to. In all things, Morretz oftheGuildoftheDomiciswas

her loyal servant. Hers, notHouse Terafins. He hadspent the better part of adecade using the twoTheTerafin, House Terafinassynonyms. That was gone;what remained was a bitter,simmering resentment, for itwas the latter that woulddestroy the former, and shewould offer herself up to itwithawilling,terriblegrace.Theprivilegeofpower.Hewassurprisedwhenshe

returned to him early, for hehad sat this vigil night afternightforalmostamonth,andhe knew the hour of itsending almost as intimatelyas he did the minute of itscommencing.Morretz,shesaidquietly.He bowed, waiting until

she stepped off the pathbeforehespoke.Orintendingto wait. But she stood, herfeet to one side of the linethat divided the tended stone

walkfromtheinnerrecessofthe garden, awaiting hisacknowledgment.Terafin, he said at last.

Helookedup,thegraceofthemovement marred by thehesitance, subtle and deep,withwhichhemethergaze.She was standing in the

shadows between thecontained light of two glasslamps, and as he lifted hischin, she smiled. It was aweary expression, which did

notalarmhim,butitwasalsounusually gentle, which did.TerafinSheliftedahand.Iamnot

yet finished for the evening,butbeforeIam,Imustaskafavor.Hewaited.Hersmile lessened,ebbing

from the familiar terrain ofher face as if it were tide.Pleasesummonthemenandwomen who serve JewelATerafin.

Summonthem?Yes. I will meet them

here.TerafinDont ask, she said

quietly.He bowed, but he did not

move. They both knew thatthe only time men andwomen were summoned tothis place was to give theiroathsofservicetotheHouse,andeventhen,itwasrareforany but the Chosen to be so

called. Did the Housedemandtheirpresence?No.He looked at her face; she

hadchosentostandwheretheshadowsin a garden wherelight was scattered in artfulabundancewere strongest.Funny,that.What will you do? she

asked him, as the silencestretched.He choseas he rarely

chosetomisunderstandher.

My pardon, Terafin, I willfetchtheden.But she raised a hand

before he could retreat, andthe movement, as subtle ascommand could be to onewho understood it, held himfast. Morretz, when yourservice here is ended, whatwillyoudo?He could not speak,

although he understood thathecouldserveherbestatthismoment by offering her the

words she asked for. Andwhatofme?hethought,bitternow, the words so foreignthey were almost anotherlanguage.Whatofmyneeds?Itwassowrong.And yet, beneath the

weight of hers, beneath theyears of the service he hadwillingly undertaken, hisneeds had been met. Untilnow.She had always accepted

his silences before. But he

knew that she must wantcompanionship very badly,for she did not choose to dosonow.Will you return to the

Guild?Will you teach?Willyou return to the home thatyou have never once spokenof in your years in myservice? Or will you choosetotakeanothermaster?Therearefewwhowouldnotvalueyour service, givenwhat youhavebuilthere.

Terafin. The familiarsyllables smoothed the angerout of his voice, although itwas there, it was suddenlypresent. He wondered if sheunderstood how deeply shehad just insulted him, anddecided that she wasAmarais; she must, and shehad chosen to do sodeliberately.I will never seek another

Master, no matter what theoutcome of this current

situation is. I am done withpower. I am done with thehopes He stopped, then,seeing,foramoment,nottheglorious evening gardens ofHouse Terafin, but theenclosed classrooms of theGuildoftheDomicis.IwillservealordIadmire.That had been the right

answer; it was the rightanswer now.But no one hadasked himnot himself,especially not himselfwhat

he would do when thatserviceended.Hehadmadeithis life, having found a lordhe admired and respected, toserve her, strengthen her,provide her with the supportshe required that she mightmeet the goals she held aloftforhisquietinspection.She was silent as he

returned to the present. Buthe did not think the silencewould last; it had a curiousunfinished quality to it that

spoke of the hoveringpresenceofunshedwords.Amarais.Morretz.I...cannotspeakofyour

death.He thought that would

silence her, for she herselfhad never once spoken of it.Ithadbecomeimpossiblenotto know that she expected it,but he had waited, in astrained silence he hadthoughtuntil this moment

wasdevoidofhope.Heknew,now,thathehad

accomplished only theunenviable task of lying tohimself. He had had hope,and she meant, this eve todeprivehimofeventhat.If you accepted it,

Morretz, youwould speakofit. You would speak of itbecauseyouwouldknowasI know, and I have acceptedthat my death may meanthe end of all that we have

built together.Theheir that Ichose is gone; the South hastaken her. The wara warthat is larger in every waythan my House, but onlyslightlyhas devoured herenergy, her time, herattention.You would speak of it

because you would desire aplan, some course of action,that would protect what wevalue more than we valuelife.

Seershavebeenwronginthepast.Perhaps; I will not argue

withyou.It isnotofthepastthat we speak, it is of thefuture,andofthefuture,thereis littledoubt.Whatshesaw,shesaw;initsfashion,itwillcometopass.As if she wielded the

sword of Terafin, her wordswere sharp and terrible. Helifted a hand. They passedthroughit.

You are astute, Terafin. Icannot accept what youaccept.If acceptance is beyond

you, can you find it inyourself to forgo anger? Ihave no intention ofwalkingeasily to death; it will comefrom a quarter that I cannotnow foresee. I abjure noresponsibility;anything that Ican prevent will beprevented.Hersmilewasthewolfs smile, lean and

powerful.Letthemworkformy death. Let them out-maneuver me, outthink me,outplay me. But the smilewas a ghost; it passed.AcceptthattherearethingsIcannotdo.And here was the crux of

thematter.Here,at last.Thiswoman,thisslender,beautifulwomanyes,beautiful,morenow than as an unformed,grave youthwas TheTerafin.Shehadnever failed

at anything she had set hermind tonotevenwhen thatthing was the governing ofthe most powerful House intheEmpire.Against odds fargreaterthanthis,shehadwonher seat, had survived theHouse War that haddecimated the ranks of theHouseGuards,dividedall.Fightthis!Fightit,youcan

onlybekilledifyouchoosetosurrender!As if she could hear the

words he could not say, sheglancedaway.Tell me that you are not

tired,Amarais.Tellme.She was silent a moment.

At last, she said, Bring theden.He wanted to shout at her

then; wanted to grab her bythearmsand shakeher, as ifby doing so he could forceher to feelwhat he now felt,measureformeasure.YouareAmarais, you are thewoman

Ichosetogivemylifeto.Youhavefailedatnothinginyourlife,willyousurrendernow?Buthewasdomicis;andif

what he had undertakenwithsuchprofoundhope somanyyears ago had become analmostunbearableburden,heboreitstill.He bowed stiffly and

offered her his silentobedience.

Finchwoke.

There was no light in herroom,butshewasntJay;shefound the darkness of thesleeping House peaceful.Whatever fears clung to herfromthepastthathadshapedthem both found its holddiminished, not strengthened,when the lights dimmed andfaded. Had nights in thetwenty-fifth holding beenbad? Yes. But the days hadbeen worse, for Finch. Atnight there were shadows,

placesmadeofmoonlightandstarlight in which someoneslender and quiet could hide.Dayforgavelittle.She therefore needed no

Avandar to stand by the footof her bed, light in hand orcupped palm, as guardianagainstnightmaresthatmightfollowthewaningoftheday;indeed, had she been offeredsuchasentry,shewouldhavefoundithardtosleep,forshedesiredthesimplestillnessof

a completely private place;she found in it a freedomfrom the responsibilities ofthewakingday.Tellerenviedherforthat;it

was in the darkness that he,like Jay, lay awake, thinkingwith precision and clarity,about everything that hadgoneor could gowrong,andanhourmightpasswhilehe lay, immobile,waitingforsomethingaselusiveassleep.Not Finch. Covers tucked

to chinthe one night foibleshe sharedwithalmosteveryone of her den-kinshecould listen to the quietsoundsoftheHouse.Thosenoisesdifferedfrom

seasontoseason,andshehadgrown to know them all, inthe quiet and safety of thisbuilding, this gift from amercifulgod.Amercifulgod,andJay.Jay.Even in safety, there were

barbs.TheHouseGuardswereon

patrol.She heard them, heavy

stepsalmost inunison, in thedoorsbeyondthewing.SinceAleas death, guards such astheseperhaps these; at thistime of night, she wasuncertainwhopatrolledhadcrossedoneendofthemanseto the other, in groups of noless than eight; Torvanhimself saw to the

composition of these smallsquads to assure that theloyalty of these men was, ifnot unquestioned, then atleastnotuniform.TheyallserveTheTerafin,

shedsaid,navethenandnodoubtnavenow.Yes, hed said, voice soft,

gaze on a spot she couldntsee clearly, no matter howclose it seemed to be. Buttheyknowthatanheirhastobe chosen, and they know

all of themthat theyveneverbeenChosen,notbythereigning Terafin. If theychoose to support one of thecontendersforthetitle,iftheychoose wisely, theyre in atthe ground, and they have achance at promotion theydneverseehere.You think theydtheyd

attackher?The Terafin? No. Never.

Buteachother?Theyowenoloyaltytoanyotherlord.

Well, shed asked. Funny,how little comfort answersoffered.ThemonthofMisteralwas

often heavy with rain, dampandcoolcomparedtotherestof the year. This month wasslightly different; rainthreatened to fall, but theclouds that carried it wereshuntedtoonesideofthecityor the otherby the gustsof salt-laden wind.Nevertheless, sailing

merchants thatcame tomaketheir reports, and take theirrest, at House Terafin, couldbe heard cursing theweatherwithseasonalfervor.Theydrank,Finchthought,

nose wrinkling, too much.Butwhentheywerentfallingdown drunk, or unpleasantlydrunk, they had the beststories to tell; tales of landsfartotheSouth,totheNorth,oralmost impossible tobelieveto the East, beyond

the ocean that stretchedacross the horizon withoutbreak.Often in Misteral, Corvil,

and HendenCorvil wasworsttheyspenttimeinthecity, bound to land; theyvisited their families, theirLords and their bankers, andtheyallowedthemselvestobewheedledoutofagoodstory.Finch, small for her size andgentleinmanner,hadbecomeinordinately good at

wheedling.But this Misteral the

merchant voices of HouseTerafinwerenotablystrainedor silent; the merchantsstayed away from the manseunless they were drunk orcommanded to do otherwise.She didnt blame them. Ifshed had a choice, shedvebeenanywhereelse.But Kalliaris had already

frowned,ficklegoddess.Finch missed the

merchants voices the most;theycouldoftenbeheardlateinto the night, mingled withthe songs of hapless youngbards whod been draggedinto the gardens or the halls.Merchants often did that, inany House, finding the openspace, the acoustical heights,of thestately, fixedbuildingsirresistible in comparison tothe vessels that were theirtruekingdoms.Nosong,tonight.Orrather,

no harp, no lute, no raisedvoice.She heard owl cries

instead; hunting songs,primitive and plain. Tooprimitive for the tended andcontrolled gardens, theclipped hedges, the flowersarranged into whimsical,well-ordered patterns thathinted at wilderness withouteverbeingtouchedbyit.Shehad learned the names ofbasicedibleweedsandplants

as a child in the twenty-fifthholding, and none of thosegraced the gardens. She hadnever learned the names oftheplants,althoughsheknewthe tree names: oak and ash,yew and rood. She couldntalways tell which tree andwhich name coincided, buthad learned to gloss overignorance on the rareoccasions she was forced toentertain someone whowishedtowalkthegardens.

And she found comfort inthosenamelesstreesatnight;they housed the wild birds,their sleeping children stillwary of the hands and theintentions of men. Did itmatter that some of thosebirdswerebirdsofprey?Ithad,once.Now, they were simply

whattheywere.She listened as she lay in

bed, palms curled round theedge of blanket, thinking: I

neverhearthemice.Morbidly, shewondered if

mice screamed when theywere caught by the birdswhosecriesandcallsshedidhear.Jay, she thought. Are we

stillmice?Afterall this time,do you think weve reallylearned how to be anythingelse? Come home, damn it.Comehome.But Jay was a continent

away.

AndFinchwashere.Thinking about mice.

Findinganabsurdcomfort inthe fact that these smallfurredcreaturesand the redkits, the dwarf rabbitsinconvenient in everypossible way to the Houseandannoying to thegardenerif they chose to nest in thewrong places (and they did),persisted; they existed nomatter how well coiffed andtended the natural world

around them became. Lived,no matter how hunted theywere by the birds whose cryshe could hear, when theirowndyingvoicesweresilent,alwayssilent.Perhaps because she

needed that reminder now,shelayawakelongerthansheusually did.She couldnt saywhy,butshewasntsurprisedwhen she heard the knock atthe door, even though shewasnt consciously aware of

the sound of anyone in thehall beyond it. Notconsciously.SheknewitwasEllerson.Funny, that he could be

here for so little time andhavealreadyworkedhiswaydown into an awareness thatowed more to instinct thanintellect.Sherosequickly,shedding

bothblanketand reverie, andopened the door; the hingeshad time to squeak a faint

protest.He carried no light; the

wallsconcesdidthatforhim.Jewel had ordered them setwith magestonesand oncetherestofthedenhadgottenover the cost, they acceptedthisdailyevidenceofmageryas easily as they accepted allherotherorders.Sheblinked;lightfromthe

hall reached her eyes,wakening vision, returningthe sense that the world was

possessedofandbycolor.You had best dress, he

toldherquietly,hisvoicetheessenceofgravity.Dresswell or dress? she

asked, but without muchhope.The Terafin has sent for

you.She heard another creak

down the hall; saw Tellersslenderfacepeeroutfromthegapbetweendoorand frame.Finch?

She nodded. Therestrouble. Get dressed. Dresswell.It is not necessary to

assumetherestrouble,asyoucall it,Ellerson toldher,hisminute frown as familiar asthetoneofhisvoice,thestifflineofhisshoulder.Atthistimeofnight?This

is trouble. Teller, get theothers,too.Allofthem?All of them. But dont

bother arguing with Angelabouthisclothing.WhataboutArann?Him,too.Buthesgotpatrolintwo

hours.Himtoo.Teller nodded. His head

disappeared and reappearedsoquicklyFinchwonderedifhedevenbotheredtochangeout of his clothing beforegoingtobed.Ellerson? he said,

lookingpasther.Ellersonnodded.Do you know whats

wrong?I am domicis, the old

manreplied.Why is she doing this to

us? Finch demanded,between clenched teeth. Herjawwas sorewith ititwasan expression shed learned,overtheyears,fromwatchingJay.ATerafin

Someones going tonoticethis.Ifwereporttoherin the day, when everyoneelse does, they can take noteof it, but they cant proveanything significant hashappened.ButthisKalliarismust have been frowning forweeks.Doesntsheknowthattheyreallwatchingus?He didnt ask her who

they were. Didnt need to.Insteadhesaid,Youarenotthe only people being

watched. The tone of hisvoicewascriticalenoughthatit would have stemmed theflowofwords if thosewordshadnt been riding on somuchfear.Nowere the only

insignificant people beingwatched. She hadnt meanttosoundsobitter;shealmostneverdid.Shamewarredwithfear, and fear won. Gods,this is so easy for them.Theyve got money, theyve

got experience, theyve gotfriends in all the right placestheyveevengottheHouseGuardsallcarvedupbetweenthem, and she isnt deadyet!Theyvegoteverything.Finch, Ellerson said,

reaching out to touch hershoulder.Shelookedupathim,eyes

wide, the difference in theirheight startling to her. Hadsheshrunk?ATerafin, he added,

when he was certain of herattention. Do you trulybelieve you arewithout yoursupport? Captain Torvan oftheChosenvisitsonlyoneoftheTerafinHouseCouncilonaregularbasis.Jay,shesaidatlast.But

Jaysnothere.His grim silence was

reproof enough. She wassilent for a moment. Butwhen she spoke, her voicewas level. Im sorry, she

saidquietly. Youre rightofcourse.ButIHis hand, where it rested

on her shoulder, tightened amoment.Shemethiseyes.Was surprised to see his

smile. No one who hasresponsibilities that they takeseriously is completelywithout fear. No one. But Ihave nevermet amanor awomanwhocanmeetthoseresponsibilities well whenfear rules them. Jewel

ATerafin trustedand trustsyou. If you cannot trustyour own judgment in this,trusthers.Ormine,ifitisofvalue.I

admit that I was hesitant toreturn here. I am retired. Ihave . . . enjoyed myretirement immensely. Buthaving begun, I rememberwhat being a domicis meansto me, and I am honored toserveyourden.And how long will you

stay?Howlongthistime?I will stay, he told her

gently, until I am no longerneeded.Come.Theothersarewaiting.She looked up then.

Everyoneexcept forCarverwasstanding, silent, in thewake of his words. Shewondered how much theydheard. Carver joined them,struggling to get his elbowsfreeof theneckof a shirt hewastoolazytounbutton.

Ellerson?Yes?Who delivered the

message?And a familiar figure

stepped out of shadows thatFinch knew werent natural.Jayhadpaidalotofmoneytoseetothat.Morretz?Hestaredatheramoment,

as if appraising her, but hisexpression gave none of theresultofthatappraisalaway.

I did, ATerafin. Iunderstand your fear. Iunderstandyourcaution.Iamhere to make certain thatinasmuch as it can beyourpassagetotheshrineremainsundetected by any of thewould-be rulers of thisHouse.

They had talked toMorretz. To Torvan. ToArrendas. They had spokenwith Devon, and with

Gabriel; theyhadbecome, inall things, Jays substitutes.They had learned, clumsily,butwith a determination thatdesperation underscored, tonavigate the byways of thepowerful, dancing carefullyalong the edge of theincreasinghostilities betweenthefourmenandwomenwhodesired what only the denknew Jay already hadthelegitimacy of The Terafinschoice.

Those hostilities had leftthe injured, the broken, andoccasionally the dead, asevidence of what happenedwhentoomuchambitionmetwithtoomuchambition.HaditbeenuptoFinch,notaoneof the four would now havethe Terafin name behindthem.But The Terafin did not

condescend to notice whatcould not be ignored. It hurtFinch, inexplicably, to see

that, to accept it for what itwas.Sheshookherself.Since they had understood

the full meaning of JewelATerafins vision, since theyhad realized thatTheTerafinwastodiebeforeJaysreturn,theyhadnotspokenwithTheTerafin.Theyhad listened toher, when she had come totellthemofthedemonattackin the Common; they hadlistened to her again, when

she had finally decided thatthe personal investigationthesiftingthroughrubble,thetendingtotheinjuredwouldbe brought to a close. Buttheyhadnotbeenrequiredtospeak; had not been requiredto meet her gaze andacknowledge theirunderstanding.Untiltonight.Itwasfunny.Finch was easily the

smallest, physically, of Jays

den. How a bunch of grownmencouldhuddlebehindherwasnt clearbut they wereall trying exactly that, withthesingleexceptionofTeller.IfFinchhadlovedhimbeforeJay leftand she had, shealways hadshe had neverunderstood why he wasobviously the most valuedmember of the den. It hadstung, sometimes; still did,when she was feeling lowenoughtopickatit.

Butsheunderstooditnow.Silent, he was still present,and when she reached theshrine of Terafin andhesitated a moment at therounding curve of low, stonesteps,hesmiledatherbriefly,squeezed her hand, andsteppedforward.The sound of his step

againstsmoky,marbledstonebrought her back to herself;she looked up, past his backhedleftroomforherathis

sideto see thewomanwhowaitedforthem.The woman who ruled

themall.There was light, in this

place. It perched in torchesagainst the pillars thatsupported the domed ceiling.Someone had thought tofashionthosetorchesintotheshapes of birds, works ofbrass whose wings, from tipto tip, were polished andgleaming beneath the fires

they carried. No magestoneshere;noevenlight;oneofthegroundskeepers or thegardeners must have carriedoil, glass, and cloth whenthey came to this place;someone must have broughtstools and ladders, rags;someonemusthavetakenthetimetolighttheselamps,andto gutter them, and to cleanthe residue of their burningfrom the backs of thecreaturesthatheldthem.

Andnotjustonce,butoverand over, each act deliberateandephemeral.Although she had always

liked magestones, it seemedfitting that such effort andlaborious care be offeredhere, beneath this simpledome, yet above the grassthatsurroundedtheflat,risingsteps. What time could nottake from the stones magesmade, itwould take from thelamps, from theoil, from the

labor of menand the laborofmenwouldagainbecalled.And if the men whoperformed this maintenanceweredifferent, the firedidntcare.ATerafin, The Terafin

said.Finch nodded quietly; her

nervousness deserted her asshecastonelastglanceatthenatural fire that flickered inordinarylamps.She climbed the steps to

join Teller, who waited forher in silence. When TheTerafin did not speak, Finchturned and gesturedwordlessly for the others tofollow; only Angel lingeredupon the path enclosed oneither side by lamp, grass,pillar.Angel never accepted the

House name, The Terafinsaid softly. There was a hintofquestioninthewords.No. And he blackened

Carvers eye when Carverdid. Realization of whomshewasspeakingtofollowedrather than precededthewords;hertonguestucktotheroof of her mouth for just amoment.ButTheTerafinsresponse

wasanunguardedsmile.Hedidnt wish to compromisehis integrity by swearing anoathtoservetheHousewhenhisloyaltywassimplytooneofitsmembers?

Somethinglikethat.And if she ruled the

House?Teller stiffened; Finch

caught the sudden lack ofmovementstartling eventhough Teller was not themost animated of peoplewith the small part of herattention that wasnt focusedonTheTerafin.Ellerson, she thought,why

arent you here? She wasntup to a protracted

conversation with arguablythemost powerfulwoman intheEmpire.Or at least not apolitic,intelligentone.Tellercametoherrescue.IfsheruledtheHouse,he

wouldnt need to accept thename; she already ownseverything hes willing togive away. Angels neverbeenoneforemptygestures.No, The Terafin replied.

Andtherestofyou?He shrugged, although his

expression was completelyserious.Fortherestofus,itwasntempty.Jaywantedthename, and because shewanted it, we wanted it.Except for Angel. AndArann, he added, almostgrudgingly.Arann. She found him

easily on the crowded flat ofthe floor that encircled thealtarbywhichshestood.Herexpression shifted, a subtlemotion of lines, a narrowing

of eyes, a compression oflips. She nodded slightly asshemethiseyes,andhecamealbeit awkwardlytowardher.Hedidwhattheyhadfailed

to do; knelt before her feet,bowedhishead.Finch was suddenly aware

oftheswordthathungbyhissidehad to be; it scrapedagainstthesurfaceofmarbledstone like fingers againstboard.Nooneelseworeone.

Carver and Angel had takenlessons, but theweaponsmaster Jay had sentthem all to had choseninstead to focus on the skillshe felt they did have: longdaggers, short daggers,thrownweapons.But Arann had joined the

House Guards almost rightfrom the start. Jay had hatedit.Had been proud of it, andhadhatedit.And he knew. Funny, it

hadhardlybotheredhimatallwhen shed been here. ButFinchknewhimwellenough;hed gone to his kneestonight, but it was the firsttime in years that old splitloyaltieschafedathim.The Terafin knew it as

well.Shed known Arann for a

handful of years as a polite,but respectful half-stranger,but she could also see whatFinch,whowasalmostblood-

kin, could seeand no lessclearly. That, Finch thoughtwithout rancor,waswhy shewasTheTerafin.Arann rose as The Terafin

gestured.Well, she said, are you

hersorareyoumine?Hewasnotawordsmith.But he was not a coward

either; the fear of beingforced, after so many years,to choose was more terriblethan the event itself. He

squared his shoulders,shedding weight in theprocess.Both.Isthatasuitablereply?Its the only one I have,

Terafin.I . . . see. The woman

who ruled stepped back; herhands touched the pale, coldsurface of stone as if shemightdrawstrengthfromtheTerafinaltar.Itcutacrosstheheart of the shrine, forgotten

by the den until the momentshe chose to remind them ofits existence by this simplegesture.You both serve the

House, he continued