"How do you feel about that?" she had asked.

"Do you want my imp answer or my djinn answer?" Which was an answer. Even Skarash seemed out of sorts today. Around his grandfather he was submissive and self-effacing. For Azak he played stern patriot, for Kade dutiful escort, for Inos flippant playboy and now charioteer. The day before he had never missed a step, but that morning he had fumbled a few times, displaying the wrong face or having to change voice halfway through a speech. Either he was attempting too many roles at once, Inos thought, or something new was worrying Master Skarash.

The sightseeing had been a mistake; her headache had grown worse. Now, thank the G.o.ds, she was on her way to pick up Kade and go home; if she lived that long. The wheels rat-tatted on the cobbles, shooting bolts of fire from her eyeb.a.l.l.s, and the chaise lurched and rocked down the hill, scattering pedestrians and pack animals alike, swerving around on one wheel between wagons and carriages. Spectators roared in anger and shook fists. Dogs barked and horses shied. Dwarves with hammers beat on her brain like an anvil.

Skarash being charioteer . . . the two hussars sent along to guard Inos had objected to his fast driving. Mainly they'd just been throwing their weight around, ha.s.sling a rich djinn. So Skarash had challenged them to a race down the Way Imelada, the steepest, narrowest, nastiest alley in the city, so far as Inos could tell. He was going to win it, too, if it killed her.

Ullacarn was a flatter city than Arakkaran, or Krasnegar, but it did have the Way Imelada, and it did have a palace on a hilltop. The emir was rumored to be under house arrest, Skarash had said. There must be a strong anti-Impire faction in the city, so perhaps Azak could enlist some secret allies among the local djinns.

In three days? And why would the enemies of the Impire aid a sultan who wanted to go to Hub? More like they would see him as a traitor and push a scimitar through him; and the problems of a refugee queen from the far northwest would interest them not at all. Bury that idea.

Or bury Inos! The chaise skidded around a corner on one wheel, narrowly missing a cart laden with vegetables.

And now the way ahead was flatter, wider, and packed with people. Skarash was screaming warnings, cracking his whip in the air. Inos clung tight and tried closing her eyes, but that did not help much. Every jolt flashed flames inside her head, and they just seemed brighter when she had her eyes closed. Somewhere behind the bouncing chaise came the two hors.e.m.e.n, but Skarash had outwitted them right at the beginning by getting them to agree to give him a few paces' start, and ever since then they had been unable to find a place clear enough to overtake. Unless he killed someone, he was going to win the race.

Yesterday Azak had escorted Inos; today he had gone off on his own. He had reluctantly agreed to wear impish costume while in Ullacarn, for otherwise he would be conspicuous and might find himself hara.s.sed by the soldiers. As always, he had gone full measure. He had shaved off his beard and had his hair cut to impish shortness; it was coppery and lighter than his beard. In hose and breeches and ruffles, he was a sight to catch every female eye in town. Suddenly the idea of Azak in Kinvale or even Krasnegar was not quite so hard to imaginea"but that was another problem altogether.

The chaise lurched extra hard and skidded and swung sideways. Inos muttered a prayer and clung tighter. Then she heard yells of triumph close by and opened her eyes just as the hussars went thundering past. Ambly Square was right ahead.

"You lost!" she said.

Skarash dared not turn to look at her yet, but he grinned. His face was bright scarlet and shiny with perspiration, his hair flew loose, and his plumed hat had vanished completely. He was obviously very pleased with himself. "Of course I lost! You think I'm crazy enough to win?" He was still hauling on the reins to slow the horse.

Two minutes later he brought Inos safely, if not soundly, back to the couturier's door. He began pa.s.sing gold to the hussars, along with his congratulations. He was still being a trader, still giving what was wanted.

The couturier's establishment was a grand house on a grand square. Djinn servants came hurrying to lead the horse to the mews, and Skarash again flashed coin as he demanded that the hussars' mounts be taken, also, to be walked and rubbed down. Then he gave Inos his hand to help her descend, followed by his arm to mount the wide stairs to the door. He was puffing and still excited from the race. He could have won had he wished, so losing was a double victory for him.

Inos fought for concentration through the thumping surf in her head. "Master Skarash?" she murmured as big white doors swung open before them.

"Yes, my beloved?" he replied softly.

Inos ignored that. "I have relatives in Hub. My aunt knows many people there. I was wondering if we might write letters to forewarn them of our arrival?"

They stepped together into a hallway richly furnished, although possibly at secondhand, for the rugs and draperies seemed mismatched. Inos started toward the room where she had left Kade, but the footman was leading the way across to the stairs, so Kade must have moved.

"Letters?" Skarash mused. "There would be no point at the moment, would there? No ship is due to sail before Dawn Pearl, so you would merely be paying to send mail on the same vessel as yourself. When we reach Qoble, of course, then the case may be different. You may not wish to travel at the posts' pace then."

"You will be accompanying us?" For a moment that surprise even cut through the headache.

Skarash smiled innocently. "Only as far as Angot, to deliver some messages for Grandsire."

So Elkarath was not going! Yet how could he risk sending his prisoners off unaccompanied? Winds were fitful. Even if Dawn Pearl had no preliminary landfalls scheduled before Qoble, the G.o.ds might arrange one. Rasha would not dare withdraw all occult restrainta"what did that hint about Skarash?

Then Inos was being ushered into a room where Kade was preening before a pier gla.s.s. She spun around and beamed. "Ah! Did you have a pleasant journey, my dear? Do sit down and advise me. These pearls are such a problem."

Inos set her face in a rictus of smile and sank onto a chintzcovered chair. The draperies were rich purple velvet, the rugs soft and thick, in a discordant mauve. The furniture was an odd a.s.semblage.

Kade, of course, was exultant at the thought of journeying to Hub. All her life she had wanted to visit the capital. She had almost attained her ambition twice, and each time something had come up to prevent her leaving Kinvale.

Kade, in a sense, was being as deceitful as Skarash. Having played the role of desert nomad for months, enduring hardship and discomfort without complaint, she had now reverted to being a brainless Kinvale lady, totally engrossed in gowns and frippery. Well, if she enjoyed the procedure, she had certainly earned it, even if it was only a comfortable sham.

"What do you think of this string?" she inquired. "Or this one?"

The impish a.s.sistants fussed and exclaimed around her, delighted to have a customer with such exquisite taste and such impressive wealth. Of course pearls were plentiful in Ullacarn, on the sh.o.r.es of the Sea of Sorrows. Despite her worries and her pounding temples, Inos was impressed by the glowing heaps being displayed.

"Why not take both, your Highness?" Skarash suggested. "And the stomacher, also?"

"You really think so?" Kade said, seeming tempted. "And what about earrings and brooches? Look at these, Inos!"

Inos murmured appreciation and offered opinions, and then reluctantly moved to a chair before a mirror so that she also might try on clasps and brooches encrusted with fine pearls. Skarash encouraged and applauded, flaunting wealth and pressing the n.o.ble ladies to buy whatever they fancied. The clerks murmured and enthused.

Inos's head continued to throb, but even while she babbled about settings and matches and sizes, her mind went on wrestling with the main problem, rejecting this whole charade as being unbelievable. There just was no reason why Rasha should be sending her prisoners off to Hub. The promised voyage to Qoble must be a feint to keep them happy while something else was planned.

But what could three penniless, friendless fugitives do in an unknown city? They could not pay their fares on a ship, they could not bribe guards, or sailors. They seemed to have no option except to play along with the pretense until such time as Elkarath revealed the sorceress's true plans.

"And you should see the lacework!" Kade exclaimed. "Do you remember those lace cuffsa"no, they were before your time, my dear. I had a pair of lace cuffs that moved from gown to gown for ten years at least, until they were dishrags. Lace was so expensive in Kinford! And here they have lace like I have never seen. Collars and cuffsa""

"The best lace comes from Guwush," said Skarash, the trader in him emerging briefly. He began describing how the gnomes harvested silk from forest spiders, and then went into technicalities of quality and grading.

Half an hour or so later, Inos could rise thankfully to her feet, prepared to leave. The sun was near to setting, and the thought of lying down on her lumpy little bed in the House of Elkarath was heavenly. Kade had shamelessly frittered away a fortune, but seemed content at lasta"dear Kade! She had earned it. The a.s.sistants were hastily wrapping all those riches, and Skarash was counting out gold as carelessly as if it were millet.

Kade caught Inos's eye briefly.

Inos blinked and looked again, but the odd expression had vanished and her aunt had turned to ask about alterations to the turquoise tea gown.

By then Inos understood. Right under her eyes, Kade had solved one of the problems. The fugitives might not have gold, but they now had an enormous supply of valuable earrings and brooches and pins. For bribery, at least, those might do as well.

Three in a one-horse chaise were cramped, and although Skarash did not indulge in any more chariot races, he seemed to have picked up an inexplicable sense of urgency. The streets were crowded with homebound workers, and he fretted impatiently, muttering under his breath.

Inos considered him out of the comer of a bleary, pain-filled eye. Jumpy or not, he had been flirting all afternoon, at every chance. Dare she attempt to seduce Elkarath's grandson from his loyalty? Would she ever trust anything this devious young man promised? If he were indeed the Chosen One, he would be crazy to risk losing his chance of inheriting such powers just for a mild flirtation, for Inos had no intention of going any further than that. If he was indeed going to be her guardian on the ship, then he might already have been granted occult powers, and thus he might already know what she was thinkinga"and a flirtation would get out of hand very quickly. She decided not to pursue the matter . . . pursue Skarash. The way her head was thumping, she was not capable of producing even one winsome smile, anyway.

At last the rattling vehicle turned into a narrow alley and came bouncing to a halt outside the merchant's house. Skarash growled something inaudible. There were too many legionaries milling around there, too many horses, too many citizens excited about something.

Suddenly apprehensive, Inos followed him down and ran ahead, awkward in her city shoes, not waiting for Kade. Then she heard a familiar voice and stopped abruptly.

In a moment she located him, Centurion Imopopi. He was barking out orders, and again she felt an uncanny unease. She had not seen him since the previous morning, but she had thought about him several times without deciding why he had so disconcerted her. His voice was arousing the same mysterious alarms as it had before. The soldiers were gathered in a group, with the djinn workers emerging from the big loading room to cl.u.s.ter around them. What were they all looking at?

She began to push her way through the crowd, even shoving at the leather and bronze of legionaries, and suffering a few pinches and fondlings in the process. She saw Elkarath himself appearing, large and hot-looking in his scarlet gown, his skullcap perched awry on his white hair, his ruddy face ruddier than ever. Everyone was staring at something on the ground.

She reached the center before the sheik did. Azak lay flat on the cobbles, obviously unconscious. His face was battered, his clothes tattered. He was red with blood. As she dropped to her knees at his side, a hand closed crushingly on her wrist and hauled her back upright.

"You know the man, ma'am?" The centurion's black eyes were fearsome with suspicion.

"I . . . Yes." Shocked by the pain of his grip, Inos tried to pull free, but she might as well have tried to uproot an oak. "Sheika"I mean, Mastera"Elkarath employed . . . employs him. You're hurting me!"

Imopopi ignored her complaint, directing his attention to the far side of the circle, where the legionaries now moved apart to admit the portly Elkarath, glowering like a thunderstorm.

"He was one of my guards, Centurion."

Imopopi released his painful hold on Inos, leaving white bracelets that slowly flamed red.

"Was, Master?"

Elkarath shrugged. "He may not be any longer. May I inquire?"

The centurion folded his thick arms. "He ventured where he was not supposed to."

"He appears to have suffered for it."

"He is lucky to be alive. You want him, or shall I dispose of him elsewhere?"

Still scowling, Elkarath glanced around the ring of armored men. Then he shrugged again. "I suppose I can take him in until he recovers. Is the matter closed?"

"There will be a fine."

Elkarath sighed. "Five imperials, I expect?"

"And damages of ten more."

The sheik pouted, then nodded resignedly.

"Plus a bond for future good behavior . . . say, another twenty?"

Now the old man glared, ready to rebel. "He still has some wages due, but he is not heir to an emir's ransom! I may summon a litter and have the fool taken within?"

Imopopi nodded, satisfied. Most of his men were openly smirking as they calculated their share of that neat extortion. Elkarath turned to growl instructions. In the center of the gathering, the cause of it all twitched and groaned, and then became still again.

Idiot! Had he thought the imps would allow a djinn to go spying around their barracks, or naval base? Served him right! Of course Elkarath could cure his injuries, if he dared exert his powers within Ullacarn itself.

"A friend of yours, Mistress Hathark?"

Inos jumped, and turned to the sinister centurion at her side. Why sinister? Familiar? Not the face, the face was totally strange.

The voice?

The eyes! Recognition struck her like a fist.

She reeled back, and cannoned into a nearby legionary, who felt as solid as a stone pillar. He chuckled and steadied her and continued to hold her as she stared at Imopopi.

"Something wrong?" Mockery danced in the centurion's hard face.

"I think we have met before," Inos said, and her voice was a croak. Olybino! The warlock himself. He had grabbed her wrist earlier because she had been about to lay a hand on Azak and would have been burned by the curse. He knew! She squirmed, and the man behind her tightened his grip. But her eyes stayed locked on the centurion.

"Yesterday?" He knew! He knew she knew! He meant her to know.

"Before that, sir!" Inos pushed away offending hands and the young man at her back sighed loudly. Soldiers chuckled. Imopopi looked around his men and then leered. "I don't recall. How could I forget such a lovely face? Were we in the dark, perchance? Or were there other things visible to distract me?"

The legionaries barked with laughter. Inos felt her cheeks flame red as a djinn's.

"Perhaps it is I who am mistaken, Centurion."

Imopopi considered her, his head on one side. "Perhaps. But we could discuss the matter elsewhere. At length."

"No . . . er . . . no!" She tried to back away and was again gripped firmly by the man behind her. She squirmed, and he squeezed warningly, tethering her to bear his leader's baiting.

The warlock licked his lips and stepped closer. "You are enjoying your stay in beautiful Ullacarn, mistress? Or are you too impatient to be on your way to Hub?"

Oh, G.o.ds! It was so obvious now why she was going to Hub! Why he would send her by ship instead of by sorcery was a mystery, but she knew now why she was going.

She shook her head and managed to say "I am enjoying my stay, sir. "

"We could make it more enjoyable for you, I'm sure." Imopopi glanced around the group, and his men laughed obediently. He was playing to two audiences at once, and enjoying it.

Two husky warehous.e.m.e.n had arrived with a stretcher, and Elkarath close behind them. Inos caught a glimpse of Skarash peering at her over shoulders, and his face had paled to a sickly salmon shade. So Skarash knew! He had not known the previous day. That must be why he had been so jumpya"because he had discovered that there was a warlock involved.

She glanced back to meet the terrible mockery in Olybino's eyes.

"You should have gone to Hub sooner, ma'am." The first time we met.

Inos swallowed a few times and then found her voice. "My aunt was unable to accompany me sooner, sir."

"Unfortunate!" The warlock shrugged. "Well, I bid you a safe journey, Mistress Hathark." Reverting to his pretense of being Centurion Imopopi, he nodded to the man holding Inos to release her and turned to accept a heavy bag from Elkarath. Hugging herself, Inos backed away into the crowd, her knees still knocking with terror.

And just in case she had any doubts, the warlock had cured her headache. It had gone completely.

Male hands were lifting Azak onto the litter. Azak had been given a lesson, and a warning. Escape would be impossible now.

All Inos could do in Ullacarn was to wait for a ship to take her away.

5.

Chains rattled and Gathmor opened his eyes, or tried to. He groaned and licked his lips. "Rap?"

"I'm here," Rap said calmly, jingling fetters in his ear. The two of them were jammed into a very small box. "You have a broken finger bone and you've lost a tooth. Your nose looks as if it will straighten all right. The rest is bruises, and cutsa"you got those when the chandelier came down."

"You?"

"Broke a few bones in my hand and cracked a couple of ribs." No need to mention that they seemed to be mending very quickly.

Gathmor tried to move, and groaned louder. After a moment he said softly, "That was a very fine little fracas." Remembering the devastation, Rap shuddered. "Then I wouldn't like to experience a big one."

"Who would have thought that imps could be so much sport?"

"Numbers and motivation, I suppose."