Traitor to the Blood

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Shortly past dusk, Chane and Welstiel stepped into the Ivy Vine inn. They retreated to the privacy of their room, their task completed. Chane had awoken Welstiel after the sun dipped below the trees. The two had gone in search of the inn called Byrd's, where they knew Magiere hid with this would-be revolutionary. Chane had only to glimpse the location to hold it in his mind for later use, and Welstiel shielded his presence from Magiere's or Chap's awareness. Still, Chane was relieved to be back in their room.

Removing his cloak, he dropped to his knees beside the robin's cage and carefully lifted out his bird. Welstiel stood silently as Chane opened his hands and watched the robin fly into the night. Chane closed his eyes and guided his familiar.

Leesil's anxiety grew through the afternoon. When he put on his cloak to leave in search of Magiere, Byrd stepped in his way.

''I'll do it," Byrd said. "I'll put up my 'closed' sign, and you lock the door after me."

"I'm sick of sitting here. They take too many risks just because I might be seen by someone who knows me. That's over. I'm making the decisions now."

"Then make the right one," Byrd argued. "I know who to see and what questions to ask. And someone has to stay here, in case they make it back."

Leesil remained poised to force his way past Byrd. His father's old "friend" was right, which only angered him more.

"Then go," he said.

Byrd left, and Leesil reluctantly latched the door behind him.

When dusk finally came, anxiety turned to panic, and Leesil paced through the common room. Twice he found himself leaning on the bar, staring over it at the wine and ale casks behind. He was on the verge of grabbing his cloak again when he heard a creak from the kitchen. He jerked the doorway curtain aside as Byrd came through the back door alone.

"Where are they?" Leesil asked.

"Calm down," Byrd said, but his stoic expression had no such effect. "I can't get a straight answer from any of my contacts, but there's been gossip among the townsfolk about a skirmish near the bridge. Soldiers chased a tall woman and a wolf through an eastside tavern. No one knows what happened after that."

"What?" Leesil grabbed Byrd by his thick wool vestment, and anger and fear made his stomach burn. "You're the one who was all for her going to Darmouth!"

Byrd's expression darkened as he tried to pull away and step past.

Leesil shoved him back. Too many things had gone wrong since they'd come to Venjetz. For all Byrd's cunning-plotting against Darmouth and still serving him, allied with the anmaglahk yet still alive and unsuspected-why did this man always know so little when it mattered most?

The back door slammed open, and Magiere and Chap rushed in.

Her hair had broken loose from its thong, and both she and Chap panted from exertion. Leesil released Byrd and grabbed Magiere in his arms. She let him hold her for a moment and then pushed him back. Her face was smudged, and her clothes marred with dirt and strands of hay.

"They took Wynn," she said. "You were right. It was a trap… and they caught her instead of me."

Leesil hadn't thought of Wynn amid his relief over Magiere's return. "How long ago?"

Magiere shook her head. "Not long after we left. We had to run, and I sent her the other way, thinking the soldiers would follow me. I heard her call out but couldn't go back for her."

Chap's sudden growl startled Leesil. The dog wrinkled his jowls, half exposing clenched teeth as he inched toward Byrd. When Leesil lifted his eyes again, he found Magiere's irises had flooded black.

"You two-faced bastard!" she snarled, and lunged around Leesil.

Leesil heard the crack of her fist before he could turn his head. Byrd reeled into the kitchen's hearth, then pivoted around, raising heavy fists before Magiere closed again.

"You sold us out!" Magiere shouted.

Leesil grabbed Magiere's waist but only slowed her enough for Byrd to shift out of her reach. Chap circled around the table's other side, blocking Byrd from reaching the kitchen doorway.

Byrd's innkeeper persona vanished. All emotion drained from his face, and the blinks of his eyes came further apart as his gaze hardened upon Magiere. He slid his left foot slightly back so that he was angled well enough to charge at either Magiere or Chap. Byrd slipped his right hand behind his back where Leesil had once seen the man pull out an infighter's fist-knife from under his shirt.

"Darmouth is strangling my people," he said, "but I wouldn't give you up to him. It would gain me nothing."

"How else would he know?" Magiere continued shouting. "Wynn is Darmouth's prisoner. And you're in league with those murdering anmaglahk. I won't swallow any more of your lies!"

Byrd held his guard, watching Magiere and Chap, but his answer was to Leesil. "I told you before, my goals have nothing to do with you."

"Faris knows about Leesil," Magiere continued. "He may even know where Leesil is… and that means Darmouth knows. Why else would his men try to take me, except to get to Leesil?"

Leesil didn't know how Magiere had learned all she knew, but events were starting to add up. He'd halfheartedly tried to believe that Byrd wasn't using him-yet. He'd dragged Magiere, Chap, and Wynn into danger. Even when he'd wanted to get them out again, he'd given in to their risky plans on the thin hope of finally learning what had happened to his parents. And Byrd was the one who'd pushed for that plan to proceed.

Leesil ached inside as he felt his past bleeding into the present. His selfish weakness had put Wynn into Darmouth's hands. But there was also more at stake than a search for two long-missing people. Much more.

"You think killing Darmouth will help anyone here?" Leesil asked, now that Byrd was forced to listen. "You'll start a bloodbath. The other provinces and even his own officers will tear one another apart to take his place. Are you prepared for 'your people' to get caught in the middle? Warlords and petty tyrants fighting each other at the front gates of Venjetz? You're deluded if you think you can stop it. As bad as things are, Darmouth holds this province together."

Before Byrd answered, someone rattled the inn's front door as if trying to open it. Loud banging followed. Byrd started for the curtained doorway, but Chap snarled until he stopped.

"We're getting Wynn back," Magiere said. "And you're going to help."

"And if she dies," Leesil added to Byrd, "so do you."

Magiere glanced his way. Even with irises deeply black, Leesil saw her anger falter.

"I need to see who's come," Byrd replied flatly, unaffected. "It might be news of your friend."

Leesil hesitated, then motioned Chap out of the way. The dog reluctantly backed up and Byrd headed out. Leesil followed to the curtain, watching through the crack.

Byrd paused at the front door with his hand on the latch. "Who's there?"

"Baron Emel Milea," a muffled voice answered. "I have a message for someone here."

Byrd unlocked the door, and a slender man stepped inside. His open cloak exposed a green tunic and a straight saber sheathed on his hip.

Leesil knew him.

Older now, with thinning hair, this red-haired nobleman had chased him through the forest beyond the city walls. Eight years ago, Leesil had barely eluded the baron among the night trees. He also remembered Emel leading the mount of a young girl given to him by Darmouth-an orphaned fifteen-year-old girl. Hedi, the only survivor of Leesil's first service to Darmouth, had been Emel's reward for constant loyalty.

"You are the proprietor?" the baron asked.

Byrd nodded.

Tentatively, Baron Milea held out a folded parchment. Byrd took it and, upon opening the first fold, stopped to read something. He then opened the sheet completely and read further what was written on the parchment's full page. The barest hint of surprise crossed his features.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"Lady Progae. She is held at the keep… for her protection. Explain what this is about."

"Leesil, Magiere," Byrd called. "Get out here."

Leesil pushed the curtain aside, and Magiere and Chap followed him into the common room. Clover Roll perched on a table and only blinked as Chap passed by. At the sight of Leesil, Emel's mouth opened slightly.

"You?" he breathed.

"This is Baron Emel Milea." Byrd gestured toward his guest. "He brought us something interesting."

"I know who he is," Leesil answered with a glare. "Lady Progae- Hedi Progae-is your mistress."

Magiere glanced at him in alarm. Perhaps she remembered the name Paris had spoken before Leesil's night of madness.

Baron Milea nearly snorted in disgust. "Do not feign concern for her welfare. I can guess what you are."

Leesil jerked a stiletto from his left wrist. "You won't have to guess."

"Both of you stop it!" Byrd stepped between them, but it was Leesil he faced. "Magiere, make him see some sense… if you want to help your little sage."

Leesil remained where he was, and all Magiere did was step in next to him.

"What's this about?" she demanded of Byrd.

Byrd folded the parchment in half and handed it to Leesil. A few lines were scrawled in Belaskian on its back.

Take this to the farthest inn south of the merchant district. I will join you soon.

Leesil flicked the sheet fully open. More was written therein, obviously intended for Byrd.

Leave the inn, or you will be arrested shortly past sunset. I have learned there is a way to escape the keep from the lower level. I do not know more, except that it will take me to the woods on

the lake's far shore. Take the bearer of this note, and go there to watch for me tonight. If my guide is correct, we have our way in.

Leesil stared at the parchment. Hedi Progae, the baron's slave consort was no fool. She had purposefully kept all names out of the message, in case it was found.

"A hidden path from the keep," Leesil whispered to no one in particular. "With the city gate closed and outer wall alerted against escape."

This was why his parents had fled there on the night he'd abandoned them.

"What?" Magiere asked. "Leesil?"

She couldn't read well, so he read the note aloud to her, pondering the words again as she listened. When he finished, she grabbed his arm, and her words were hurried and anxious.

"I know how much this means, that your parents might have escaped. That's why Byrd's informants never learned more of what happened to them. But Darmouth's soldiers will be on their way. We have to go now!"

Leesil sidestepped to the bar, watching Byrd, and lifted the glass off a lantern. He lit the parchment and dropped it on the floor, watching it burn black before grinding it with his boot.

Movement in the shadows below the tables and chairs caught his eye. Chap crept within lunging distance behind Byrd, his jowls quivering short of a snarl. Leesil looked away, so as not to draw anyone's attention toward the dog. Magiere thought only of getting him out of here, but Chap understood what she'd overlooked in panic.

"You're not leaving my sight," he told Byrd.

The baron looked at the stout innkeeper. "Who are you, and why would Hedi go to such lengths to send you this information? I know she has certain… proclivities for commoners, but what have you dragged her into?"

Instead of answering, Byrd glared at Leesil.

It now seemed possible that Leesil's parents had found a way out. He should've found relief in the thought, but he didn't. Hedi Progae must have worked a long time for the scattered pieces of Byrd's unfinished drawings. How ironic that she'd finished her desperate service this night, in the same note that brought Leesil his first hint or what had happened. That note would pull this province apart.

Byrd might have found a way into the keep for his anmaglahk.

Leesil could restrain him, but what of the mans elven conspirators? They might come for the innkeeper, and he would tell them everything. Even if Leesil killed Byrd, he couldn't be certain whether his father's old friend had betrayed him to the elves, to Dannouth, or both. I he anmaglahk could be watching all of them, following everything Leesil did.

For any choice or none at all, Byrd's plot boxed Leesil in on all sides. And it had trapped Wynn in the worst place in Leesil's world.

"Do you want your lady back?" Byrd asked Emel flatly, and looked at Magiere and Leesil. "Do you want Wynn back?"

No one replied. No one had to.

"No matter what Hedi uncovered," Byrd continued, "her chance of reaching the lower levels and escaping are slim to none. Wynn's odds are worse. When Darmouth's men don't find Leesil here, he'll dangle the little sage piece by piece until you give yourself up."

Magiere pulled on Leesil's arm. "Then there's still time-"

"I said piece by piece," Byrd repeated. "Wait too long and not much of her will be left."

Chap lunged with a loud snap of his jaws.

Byrd sprang away toward the bar's end. Baron Milea turned white, hand on his saber's hilt.

Leesil lifted his hand to Chap. The dog held his place, but his growls came in sharp, fast breaths as he watched Byrd.

"Whatever Lady Progae thinks she's found," Byrd continued, "it has an entrance within the keep and an exit on the far shore. Leesil and I are the only ones who might locate a hidden exit in the forest. If you want my help, there'll be no more questions. Now, get your things… before the soldiers kick in my door."

The baron scowled, looking at each person present as if finding himself in the worst of company. He clearly wasn't used to ultimatums, but his hand dropped from his saber hilt in surrender.

"I must get Hedi out of there," he said.

The nobleman's determination puzzled Leesil. Why would one of Darmouth's remaining loyals risk so much for his bed slave?

Chap barked once, and Magiere pulled on Leesil's arm. "Gear up and I'll get our belongings. We're not coming back here, no matter how this ends."

Clover Roll hissed loudly from his tabletop and arched his back. Leesil followed the cat's eyes to the window.

One shutter was open no more than a hand's width. A large robin rested upon the sill, its head stuck through the space.

Clover leaped across the tabletops, straight for the window. In a flurry of feathers the bird vanished from sight. Clover hit the shutters, knocking them wide as he tumbled into the street with a yowl.

"Better let out all your cats,'' Leesil said to Byrd, and headed for the stairs behind Magiere.

Welstiel waited, observing Chane impatiently.

Chane looked deceptively peaceful, sitting cross-legged on the floor, hands on his knees. He'd finished washing the black from his hair and wore dark breeches and a tailored muslin shirt. The change brought the illusion of the young Noble Dead that Welstiel had met back in Bela.

The illusion shattered as Chane gasped and fell forward, catching himself with his hands.

Welstiel crouched down. "What's wrong?"

Chane looked about, disoriented. It wasn't uncommon when he roused from sinking his awareness within that of a familiar.

"Cat… large cat,' he rasped, and looked at Welstiel with feral anger in his eyes. "Darmouth has Wynn and he will torture her to get Leesil. We are getting into the keep-now!"

"Control yourself,' Welstiel ordered, "and tell me what you heard and saw."

Chane leaned forward on his hands, and for an instant Welstiel grew wary that his companion might lunge.

"Leesil… and your precious Magiere are going to try to breach the keep," Chane whispered, "and go after Wynn. Soon they may all be inside with Darmouth and his forces."

"What? Magiere should be preparing to hunt you."

The shadow of a thin smile crossed Chane's face, but his eyes held no amusement. He recounted all he had seen and heard through his bird, from the moment of Emel's arrival, to Leesil reading Lady Progae's letter aloud, to the paunchy stray cat diving for the familiar.

Welstiel settled on the bed's edge.

An assassination attempt would be made on Darmouth, leaving Leesil with no other avenues to search for his parents. He would leave, and therefore so would Magiere. But now she was hunted by the Darmouth and running straight into the warlord's hands.

"We go now," Chane repeated. "Either to the forest to trail them or…

Welstiel shook his head and ran a hand over his face, pulling back his hair.

"No. If they find the exit for this rumored passage, we could not follow unseen and unheard. I will go to the bridge gatehouse and say that I have information regarding Magiere's whereabouts. Darmouth will be eager to hear this. You will pose as my manservant and keep your hood up. Once inside we will break away, but no bodies must be left visible. We assist Magiere from the shadows, as we did in Apudalsat."

Chane stared into the dark corner of the room. It was obvious his addled mind was not on Magiere's safety but rather on Wynn.

Getting out of the city gates wasn't as difficult as Magiere had expected.

She paid the stable bill for Port and Imp, packed their belongings in the wagon, and everyone climbed in. With their hoods up, almost no one gave them notice on the night streets. A small band of soldiers tried to question them, but Baron Milea pulled his hood back and ordered them off. The sergeant in charge nodded respectfully and waved his men out of their way.

Their first stop was the Bronze Bell. Emel went up to his room while Magiere took everyone else to wait with the wagon at a nearby stable. She was slightly surprised when he returned with a chest and several canvas sacks of soft goods.

He'd gathered all of his belongings.

The bleary-eyed stable master brought out the baron's horse and a second mount with a lady's flat saddle, likely intended for Hedi Progae. There was no sign of personal guards or retainers.

This confirmed Magiere's guess. Emel planned to take his consort and run, likely for the Stravinan border. For all the worthless elites she'd met it was strange in this fear-filled land to see a nobleman ready to abandon his way of life for someone else.

Emel gathered canvas tarps and loaded them in the wagon's back. He looked up at Magiere.

"Soldiers at the city gate are looking for a dark-skinned man with white-blond hair." Emel didn't look at Leesil, but a grimace of distaste crossed his features. "And now they will be on watch for a black-haired woman with a wolf. Some may know Byrd. I will ride up front with you, but the others must hide in the back."

He held out a wool dress, and Magiere stared at it.

"Hedi is smaller than you, but you should still fit into this," Emel added. "At least enough to pass with your cloak over it. The gate watch will hesitate to question a noble escorting a lovely woman out of the city."

Leesil nearly hissed. "It pays to be among Darmouth's favored, doesn't it?"

"Better than doing his dirty work," Emel returned with equal venom.

Leesil sat up but only returned Emel's glare.

"That's enough from both of you," Byrd snapped. "Magiere, put on the dress, and Leesil, you keep quiet."

Magiere wasn't certain how much the baron knew of Leesil's past. If Emel had been a member of Darmouth's inner circle in Leesil's youth, he would certainly have his suspicions concerning Gavril and Nein'a, and thereby their son.

She unbuckled her sword and laid it under the wagon's bench, then took the dress from Emel, not caring for how all this was playing out. Since the moment Wynn had been captured, Magiere had felt out of control. Leesil hadn't been himself since entering the Warlands, and pain emanated from him no matter how silent and cold he might act. Now they trusted their lives and Wynn's to one of Darmouth's inner circle and a two-faced spy with a soft spot for cats.

"Aren't you bringing your men?" Byrd asked Emel. "The gate guards might find it odd, your leaving without an escort."

"Involving my men would make things too political," Emel answered. "A lone noble with a woman only gives the guards something to snicker about. They will assume I'm returning later, but Hedi is all that matters to me now.'

Magiere climbed down and walked into the stable's back stall. She tried to slip the dress over her clothes. It caught on the hauberk, so she removed that and tried again. The dress was too tight. She took off her wool pullover, then had to remove the shirt as well. Glancing nervously over the stall's partition, she shivered in the cold air. She pulled the dress over her head, leaving her breeches and boots on. The dress was too short and barely closed in front, but with her cloak on and perhaps a blanket over her legs, it might do.

When she returned and stuffed her clothes behind the bench, she pulled a blanket out and placed it on the seat. Leesil, Byrd, and Chap concealed themselves beneath a canvas tarp in the wagon's back. Emel shifted his sacks toward the rear, giving the illusion that the wagon was merely packed with stores.

"I hate this," Leesil whispered from beneath the tarp. "I'm sick of hiding."

"We don't have a choice," Magiere murmured back, and climbed onto the bench next to Emel. "Now, for the last time, be quiet!'

She draped the blanket over her legs, hiding the short skirt. Emel took the reins and steered them into the open street. They followed the main way through Venjetz.

As they left the upper-class district, Magiere looked back to be sure Leesil remained covered. A spark of light glinted from somewhere to her left, and she twisted around.

Magiere looked at the buildings as the wagon continued on its way. Perhaps she'd only seen the light of the sparse street lanterns reflecting off something. A glass window?

Another quick glint came from farther behind on her left.

"Stop the wagon," she whispered.

Emel pulled up. "What is it?"

She peered along the row of buildings-a narrow two-story inn, two smaller structures she couldn't name, and then a tanner's shop. All appeared quiet and dark. She felt foolish that her nerves had gotten the best of her.

"It's nothing," she said. "Move on."

Emel glanced back once with a frown, examining the street, then flicked the reins.

When they finally approached the main gates, none of the soldiers even questioned Emel as he ordered them to open up. One in a well-worn chain vest over quilted padding gave Magiere a long glance. His eyes drifted downward from her face, and he turned away with an amused smile and a shake of his head. She breathed a sigh of relief as they left Venjetz behind.

Emel clucked to Port and Imp and turned them onto the main road. Magiere kept her eyes forward, not caring to see the rotting decorations upon the wall's outer iron spikes. It was bad enough that she smelled a thin stench and heard the low metal creak of a crow's cage swinging slightly in the low breeze.

The forest thickened around them as the city fell farther behind. The near-full moon shed some light on the open road. Frozen mud ruts made the wagon lurch and jerk too often. Magiere stayed quiet, finally risking a glance back to see that the city walls had disappeared behind them.

"Where to?" she asked.

"This road heads west into the foothills," Emel answered. "We'll stop soon, and go on foot through the forest back to the lake."

"Can the cargo get up now?" asked Byrd, voice muffled beneath the tarp.

"Yes," Magiere answered. "I doubt anyone travels the roads on so cold a night."

Thrashing in the wagon's bed made her look back. Byrd, Chap, and Leesil shoved blankets, tarps, and other covering aside. Byrd rose up on one knee, looking into the forest.

"We're close enough," he said, and pointed toward a spot ahead. "Hide the wagon and horses there."

Emel steered the wagon in between two trees to a small brush-filled clearing. Everyone climbed out, and Leesil gathered blankets from the back. He held one up, and Magiere changed clothes in moderate privacy. Once she had the dress off and her shirt on, he strapped on his blades and lashed his toolbox to his back with a length of rope.

Magiere buckled down her hauberk. Leesil handed their two lanterns to Emel and Byrd. He looked more like himself, now that he had something to act upon. He handed her a sheathed dagger, which she tucked into her belt. As soon as all were ready, Byrd led the way deeper into the forest.

It was a short walk before they emerged to moonlight shimmering upon the lake. Across the water was the black silhouette of the keep, its towers' crowns marked by the red-orange glow of their top braziers. Chap began sniffing the shore.

"It is a sound design," Emel said. "Anyone approaching across the water would be picked off by archers, and the city itself makes for a difficult frontal assault. Either way, the keep is out of the reach of most siege engines.

Magiere gazed out across the lake.

"Don't light the lanterns yet," Leesil warned. "They might be seen from the ramparts. Moonlight will serve us for now."

Emel frowned. "What exactly are we looking for?"

When Leesil didn't answer, Magiere began with her own questions. "How could any escape route from the keep allow Lady Progae to cross the lake? Would there be a boat hidden in the lower levels, something small that might go unnoticed? Chat won't help us get in, not until she's already out.'

Byrd shook his head. "Too risky. Any escape route in case a siege breached the defenses would have to provide protection for those fleeing. If an enemy force took the keep, their own archers could pick off those in flight across the lake. No, it has to be something created when the keep was built, back in the days of King Timeron."

Leesil approached the lake, and Magiere watched him stare at the water, lost in thought.

"Not across it," he whispered, watching the soft ripples of water. "But under it."

"What nonsense have you got in your head?" Byrd asked.

"The keep was built on a flat depression in the land," Leesil answered. "The lake came afterward."

Magiere didn't follow this. "No one could swim the lake all the way underwater, and especially in the cold."

"That's not what I meant," Leesil replied.

"Oh, bloody deities," Byrd whispered.

Magiere was about to tell him to shut his mouth, but Byrd stared at the water with Lees ills same knowing expression.

"If the keep was here before the lake," Leesil continued, "then what else might Timeron have built down there, hidden beneath the water?"

Byrd shook his head slowly. "It's been right here in front me… all these years of searching."

"A passage?" Magiere asked. "Under the lake?"

Leesil didn't even nod. "We have to get in the water and search below the surface."

Emel finally joined in. "If it is under the lakebed, what could we possibly find?"

Leesil cast a scowl toward the baron but remained civil in his reply. "Anything that would hold up under that water over decades would have to be strongly reinforced. I wouldn't bury it, since flooded water would hide it well enough. And I'd make it out of thick stone that wouldn't decay."

"Yes, but this winter is so…" Byrd paused, at a loss, looking at the thin ice over the lake's edge. "All right, we'll try it."

They all began stripping off gear, and Leesil was chosen to stay onshore to watch their weapons. Magiere stepped into the lake, its fringe ice cracking as her boots sank into the water. Byrd and Emel followed.

Icy cold burrowed into her legs before the water even topped her boots. Both Byrd and Emel began panting quickly as they too felt the cold. She'd expected the water to be bitter, but it was on the verge of freezing. She stepped back out as her toes became numb.

"This is insane," Emel said. "Even if we find something, we will not be fit to breach the keep if we are half-dead with cold."

Leesil stepped past Magiere into the water. He hurried back out, bending to rest his hands on his knees with a moan of frustration. When he looked up at Magiere, there was more doubt in his face than discomfort.

"When you're in… your other state," he asked, "do you feel the cold as much?"

Magiere didn't like where he was going with this. "Not as much, sometimes not at… But I can't just make it happen. That level of… hunger… it has to start, before I can do anything with it."

"Then think or something-anything that gets to you." He grabbed her forearm. "Wynn is in that keep, and the rest of us don't stand half the chance you might in that water. You have to try.'

It wasn't that he was asking her to do something difficult. Magiere would do anything for him. He was asking something she didn't know how to do.

"Remember the schooner to Bela," he said, cocking one white eyebrow. "You gave me com to buy wine, because I was seasick, and I lost it all gambling with sailors. Then you got attacked by thugs, and I was so drunk that…"

Magiere crossed her arms and glared at him. Yes, and it was still one of the stupidest things he'd ever done, but not exactly the kind of thing that would accomplish what he asked of her.

"What?" Emel asked blankly, and looked at Byrd. "What has this to do with anything?"

Byrd shook his head and threw up his hands in disgust. "Why are you asking me? Leesil-"

Leesil shot him an angry glare, and Byrd rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath.

"This isn't going to work," Magiere said.

Chap loped over, his long, silver-blue fur glinting in the moonlight. His crystalline eyes locked on hers. She felt a tickling at the edge of her thoughts.

Memories began to surface.

The dark world around her flashed white, as if someone had shoved a torch in front of her eyes. She blinked hard to shield her vision.

And there she saw the graveyard of Chemestuk, her home village. The memory was so strong, it blocked out the lake and forest around her for the moment.

Adryan had hated her since childhood, whispering his lies to the other villagers. They'd shunned her, tormented her, and she'd grown up alone but for Aunt Bieja. She saw Adryan's greasy black hair and scarred face as he swung an iron-shod staff in his madness and spite. And she was afraid of him, as she scurried across the damp ground of the graveyard.

Hunger boiled in Magiere's stomach, and rage heated her flesh. She grabbed for her falchion, but it wasn't there.

The night sharpened as her sight expanded. The ache in her jaws brought tears to her eyes. She kept her lips tightly pressed together.

Adryan wasn't truly there, and she wanted something to kill.

"Hold on to it," Leesil ordered, "but don't let it take you. You take it instead. I'm right here with you, always, and Wynn needs us."

Chap's summoned memory of Adryan faded, and Magiere saw only Leesil's narrow face. His hair burned with moonlight, and his amber irises were two suns that pained her eyes. But this was a pain she wanted, and it made her long for him. She clung to his presence, holding him in her awareness against the hunger burning up her throat.

Magiere looked to the lake. She tore at the hauberk with her fingers, and Leesil stepped close to help. He barely had it off of her as Magiere stepped into the water.

"What is she doing?" Emel said, and stepped toward her. "The lake is too cold."

Magiere pivoted toward him and tensed, waiting to see if this were some thing she could fight.

"Get back!" Leesil warned, and shoved Emel away. "Magiere?"

She snapped her head toward him. His face brought clarity again. She nodded and stepped farther out, water rising past her waist and up her rib cage. The wet feeling left a distant sting upon her skin. It balanced the hunger, and she waded in until the water lapped over her shoulders.

"I'm right here," Leesil called. "Don't go under until you're ready."

Magiere kept moving, listening to Leesil's voice. She let hunger stay with her, stronger than she'd ever allowed it by choice.

"Has she found anything yet?" Byrd asked from a distance.

"It has been too long," came Em el's voice. "Get her out of there. She is in danger."

A slight wave of cold passed through Magiere.

Had it been a long time? She shut out their voices. There was only Leesil, and hunger, and Wynn waiting. The cold passed away, and she took another step.

Her boot scraped across something hard. A boulder in the lake bottom?

Magiere let Adryan's face return… then the image of Welstiel stand-ing over her mother's bed, watching Magelia bleed to death… and Chane stalking them into the Apudalsat forest.

Rage spread the hunger into her limbs, until she felt its heat in her face. She dove under, her night sight fully open.

Scant ripples of moonlight danced across the lake bottom, making mud, water weeds, and stones quiver before her eyes. She saw a clear patch that appeared to be made of stone, but when she scraped at the mud around it with her boot, she couldn't be certain it was more than boulder. Magiere swam deeper toward the lake bottom, clawing through mud with her hands.

She uncovered a flat panel of stone, too flat and smooth to be natural. When she dug away more silt, she exposed a clean edge. It ran level out into the lake, where it was too dark for even her eyes. She faced along the direction of its line and pushed off the bottom.

Magiere shot up through the lake's surface to see the braziers of the keep dead ahead. She thrashed around toward the far shore.

"Here!" Magiere tried to call, though she couldn't be certain the word came out. Her teeth hurt, and speaking was difficult.

"Come back," came Leesil's voice.

He looked small and far away in Magiere's sight. And he began to fade, as if the darkness suddenly grew deeper. Coldness began burrowing into her limbs and chest.

"Magiere," Leesil shouted. "Come back-now!"

She couldn't feel the lake bottom and started clawing at the water's surface to pull herself toward him. He became clearer again as she grew closer.

He looked afraid, staring at her with wide eyes, and he stepped forward until she heard his boots crack ice and splash into water. Why was he afraid?

Hunger vanished, and the water felt like ice shards being dragged across her skin.

"Magiere!"

Her legs and arms went numb. She found the lake floor when her legs stopped kicking and her feet hit something solid. She forced herself toward Leesil, and the water receded to her waist. Then she started to sink again, and couldn't stand up anymore.

Leesil splashed toward her and grabbed her wrist. The last thine Magiere saw was Emel dashing in beside him to take her other arm.

Magiere opened her eyes again and found herself looking up into the dark forest canopy. Leesil's face was above her, his hair glinting in the moonlight. She tried to reach his face and found she was wrapped in wool blankets, lying in his lap.

"That was foolish," Emel said. "You could have died."

Byrd stood a way off, staring out over the lake. "But she found it."

"Yes, she did," Leesil said, his eyes remaining on her.

"How… long?" Magiere asked, and heard the chatter of her own teeth as she shivered.

"You were out for only a moment," Leesil whispered. "And you need to stay awake now."

Her teeth kept chattering. "It's… a tunnel. Straight line from where I stood… in the water. Exit must… behind us."

Leesil looked up at Emel. "We need a fire, somewhere out of sight. Now!"

Emel nodded, crouching down. "I will take care of her. You help Byrd find the exit."

Leesil looked down at her uncertainly, and Magiere felt his arms close tight around her, not wanting to let her go.

Magiere closed her eyes and saw an image of Wynn. "Go," she said to him.

Leesil headed into the trees behind Byrd, with Chap loping out.

He didn't like this. He should be the one to watch over Magiere.

Perhaps Emel's concern for Hedi Progae was genuine. Perhaps he wasn't a complete toady to a tyrant. And he'd run into freezing water to help save Magiere. None of this meshed with what Leesil knew of would-be nobles, who sat and nodded agreement like bobbing crows on Darmouth's council.

Byrd, on the other hand, hadn't been remotely concerned about Magiere, and now he trotted through the forest in search of the tunnel's hidden exit.

"Here," he called from beyond a tall fir tree. "If the tunnel runs straight from the keep, the exit will be along this line."

Leesil checked the sight line, shifting about until he caught a glimpse of the lake through the branches. Chap began sniffing the ground.

"Search for anything that doesn't smell natural," he told the dog. "Anything that might be man-made."

Chap licked his nose with a rumble, as if to say he didn't need to be told.

Leesil dropped to the ground. They could be looking for anything. It might even be buried, the opening unearthed from the inside only when the exit was finally used. Or it could be covered with decades of forest mulch.

Byrd dropped down beside him. "Timeron was quick-witted, from what I've heard. And remember that he was trying to hold off men like Darmouth's grandfather, which was no small feat. He'd have found craftsmen and builders clever enough to create more than just a hole in the ground."

Leesil nodded, still wondering what they searched for. All nobles holding a keep or castle made certain of an escape route for the family, but this was by far the most elaborately planned route he'd ever heard of. A watertight tunnel constructed before the plain was flooded.

He'd breached more than one stronghold in his life, but not like this. Scaling a wall or opening a hidden bolt-hole was simple by comparison. The tunnel had to emerge where the ruler and any retainers might reasonably escape assaulting forces. Looking around, all Leesil saw were trees, brush, and half-frozen ground.

"It has to be right here somewhere." Byrd scraped traces of snow and brittle mulch to expose the earth beneath. "Give me Magiere's falchion. You use the narrow wing on one of your blades."

They took a position five paces from each other and worked their way across the forest floor. Every two paces they rammed steel into the earth to probe for anything hidden below. Chap circled through the area around them, sniffing everything.

Leesil found nothing. In several places, the space between the trees was too narrow for any exit. Byrd's countenance was calm, but Leesil sensed that he grew anxious.

"We're missing something," Byrd finally muttered.

Leesil hesitated. "This is why my parents ran into the keep. The exit has to be here."

Byrd sighed. "One of them must have known."

Leesil thought back into the past. "They would have fled through the exit, perhaps exposing it somehow, but there's no sign of escape here. Did they get away or not?"

"Pay attention." Byrd stood up, looking around. "All right, if it's not in the ground, where could it be?"

Leesil looked about and saw nothing but snow-dusted earth, trees, and brush. He'd found bolt-holes within the walls and towers of strongholds. Here in the forest there were no designed structures to consider. Then he stopped and looked up at the trees rising into the air.

Towers-forest towers of wood.

Three thick and massive gnarled oaks stood on a direct line to the keep across the lake. At this time of year they were bare of leaves, but the one in the center seemed… wrong. He stepped closer, running his hand over each tree. The middle tree was wider than the other two. Some of its bark crumbled in his hand. This center one was old. Perhaps dead?

"Chap!" Leesil called. "Come here."

The dog loped over to his side. Chap circled the trees, his nose tracing exposed roots up to the trees' trunks. He stopped and leaned his forehead and snout up against the center one as he closed his eyes.

"Is it dead?" Leesil asked.

Chap looked up and barked once.

"Yes," Leesil whispered.

Byrd raised his eyebrows at this exchange. "So? What of it?"

"I'd guess it hasn't been alive for a long while, but it's still upright because it's soundly lodged between the other two." He pointed from the tree's base toward the lake. "Look. That's where Magiere came out of the water."

"A tree for an exit?" Byrd scowled and circled around, studying the triple trunks.

Leesil circled as well. Stopping at the back, he felt the bark for knots and crevices. He found nothing.

"If you think it has a door or hatch," Byrd said, with a doubtful shake of his head, "the larch or bar would be on the inside. The engineer wouldn't want anyone getting in… only out.'

''That doesn't mean I cant find a way in," Leesil answered.

"All right then." Byrd stepped back and hefted Magi ore's falchion to swing.

"No! That'll leave the keep wide open," Leesil warned.

Byrd whirled toward him in anger. "Then what would you have us do?"

Chap rumbled, moving in on Byrd. Leesil shook his head at the dog.

An open back door would serve a rebellion-or an assassination. He'd have to watch Byrd carefully, but short of killing him, there was only one answer in the end.

Wynn had been right. This province was headed toward conflict, and the removal of Darmouth would sink it-and perhaps all of the War-lands-into bloodshed. Darmouth or those close to him had to be warned before Byrd's anmaglahk allies could act.

Leesil's stomach knotted. He had to save the monster who'd made him kill again and again for the lives of his parents.

"Wait," he snapped at Byrd, and stepped close to the dead oak. He doubted they could hack through with only a sword. There had to be some sign of where the opening might be. The darkness made it difficult to see any detail, but he felt along the rough surface for anything odd.

At the place where the curve of the center trunk met its companions was a line. Some of the dead bark had broken away over the years. The more he inspected, the more a pattern emerged. A definite crack of decay ran vertically along the crevice.

"Here," he said. "Chip away lightly along this line. But be quiet about it."

Leesil stepped back, and Byrd chipped at the crevice with the falchion's point. The noise made Leesil flinch. They were far from the city, but he still turned about to glance in all directions through the forest.

At first Leesil saw nothing and held up a hand for Byrd to stop. When he ran his fingers across bare wood where the bark was gone, he found a thin crack in the exposed surface. He pulled one of his winged blades, sank its tip into the crack, and levered it to the side. Byrd joined him, pushing with the falchion's blade. They worked in turns, one prying so the other could slip a blade farther in.

A crack of splitting wood answered. Leesil pushed his blade deeper and they both heaved again. A louder crack and snap came this time.

Byrd stumbled sideways into Leesil before righting himself. A piece of the tree's wood broke away, and Leesil stared into a jagged dark hole the size of his fist. He braced his foot on the tree's roots where they met with the trunk, and stepped up high enough to slide his hand in.

The hole's depth was about half his forearms length, and then he felt nothing but open space. The dead oak between its siblings was hollow.

Leesil felt along the inside surface and touched a narrow but thick strip of metal. When he wiggled it, it spun sideways, mounted on some nail or pin at its midpoint. Nothing happened, and he sank his arm farther into the hole. He felt around the inside, found two more metal straps within reach, and twisted each one.

A large oblong piece of the trunk fell outward against him, and he jumped back out of its way. It toppled, thumping against the tree roots, and Leesil stared into a dark opening large enough for a crouched man to crawl through.

The builders couldn't hide hinges and had simply used the lines of the tree to cut a hidden hole in the trunk. They'd secured the panel from the inside-bark and all-with simple pivoting straps of metal that braced against the opening's inside.

"That's it," Byrd said. "I'll get Magiere and Emel."

He walked away. Byrd's eagerness roused a sickening knot in Leesil's stomach. He and Magiere could get Wynn back, but they still had to keep Byrd in check.

Leesil leaned into the opening, and looked down. In the dark, he barely made out metal rungs forming a ladder down to a stone alcove deep beneath the triple trees. There was no wall on the alcove's side facing in the direction of the keep. This would be the tunnel they sought.

For a moment, Leesil imagined the panicked faces of his parents appearing in the alcove to look at him.

Byrd hurried through the trees toward the road rather than to the small fire where Emel and Magiere waited. When he had the wagon in sight, he took out the strange small mirror the anmaglahk had given him and stepped to where he could clearly see the near-full moon. He tilted the mirror and aimed its reflected light toward where they'd left the horses.

He'd done the same thing as the wagon had headed for the front gates of Venjetz. Carefully shifting in the dark beneath the canvas, he peered out the back and used the mirror, fie wasn't even certain if they were nearby, but they always seemed to appear whenever he wanted to contact them.

Anxiety built as he waited. Then a light sparked in the night woods. Byrd took a deep breath of relief.

At least one of his allies had escaped the city and understood this was an opportunity that might not come again. He signaled his acknowledgment and ran back through the forest to find Magiere and Emel.

The anmaglahk would follow.