Laeth opened his eyes cautiously, took in the missing door and the magelight hovering behind, and came to the wrong conclusion.

aIam surprised that even the Spymaster of Sianim found out about my imprisonment so quickly,a said Laeth in a soft voice that wouldnat carry far.

aAs far as I know, he didnat,a replied Tris as quietly, pulling the hovering light source around until Laeth could see him clearly.

The Darranianas eyes widened as he realized, for the first time, who had come to his rescue. Before he could say anything, there was a loud crashing noise from the floors below.

Tris froze, noticing that Laeth held himself still as well. They waited, but no further sound reached them.

Finally Tris stepped over the sawdust and into the cell, his magelight following closely. He propped his staff against a convenient wall and crouched beside the battered Darranian to examine the chains more closely.

As was usual for such objects, they were made of low-grade iron. Iron and its refined cousin were exceedingly resistant to natural magic. Given enough time, the healer might have been able to destroy them with his magic, but time was a scarce resource.

Tris pulled a ring of keys out of his belt pouch and found one that worked on the wrist cuffs.

One night, not long after Tris had come to Tallonwood, a man had knocked on his door in the middle of the night, obviously suffering from a severe beating. He stayed with Tris for two days before leaving as suddenly as he had come. Tris found the set of keys on his worktable the morning after the man left, set out obviously as a payment. When the word came that a notorious thief had escaped his imprisonment at Westhold, Tris had not been surprised.

The set of skeleton keys had proven to be useful several times since then, and he carried them with him more often than not.

The shackles had been overly tight, restricting the circulation to Laethas hands and feet. While Laeth worked at returning the feeling to his limbs, Tris looked him over carefully. There were a few abrasions and bruises, especially where the rough metal had cut into his wrists and ankles, but the worst of it seemed to be the swelling.

Tris reached for Laethas hands. Instead of rubbing them, as Laeth had been attempting to do, he held them gently and began to heal the abused tissue.

The Darranian jerked his hands back and stared at thema"probably, thought Tris with some amusement, because head never seen them glow before.

aWhat. . .a Laeth visibly caught himself. The less talking that they did the better; there would be time for that later, if they made it through the night alive. The Darranian gave Tris a frustrated look, then held out his hands again.

Tris worked on Laethas hands and feet. The healing wasnat as complete as it could have been; Laeth was still having problems moving with any ease. Bruises and stiffness were difficult, and they had already taken too long.

By levering a shoulder under Laethas arm, Tris managed to get the Darranian through the doorway. He balanced Laeth against the wall, went back for his staff and then touched the sawdust with a finger, and concentrated.

Slowly, the dust shimmered yellow and restructured itself. Like a living creature, it slithered up the iron frame that had reinforced the wooden edges, until a saffron curtain hung where the door had been. There was a snap, as if someone clicked his fingers, and the oak door stood as solid as ever. If a guard came up to look, he would have to open the door to notice that Laeth was gone.

Tris dismissed the magelight and opened the trapdoor again. The tower was quiet below them.

The healer had to help Laeth down the first few steps. Between the heavy staff and the heavier Darranian, negotiating the narrow, dark stairway was awkward work. As soon as the noble seemed steadier, Tris pushed in front.

After they had descended six stairs, Tris gestured for Laeth to wait, and continued down alone. He intended to deal with the guard on the second story himself, leaving only the two on the bottom. As he stepped carefully down the stairs, he noticed that the room was different.

The oil lamp was no longer burning. Faint moonlight from the three windows high in the side of the tower allowed Tris a clear view of the empty bench where the guard had been. The rest of the room was lost in darkness.

He had hoped that he could take on the guards separately and minimize the risk of an outcry, but the guard who had been here had left. He would have to get Laeth anda"

He had taken a step back toward the stairs when something caught his attention.

He held very still, listening for the faint noise that instinct told him would come. Something bumped into a piece of furniture, pushing it a short distance across the floor. Tris dropped to a low crouch, hoping head escaped detection. His new position allowed him to see under the table and past it to the source of the noise that had first alerted him.

A square of pale light from one of the windows illuminated a pair of rough bootsa"boots that moved limply forward and back, scuffing the floor lightly. It had been this sound that head heard first.

A small gust of wind from the window brought with it the peculiar rotting smell of the swamp and the sweet smell of fresh blood. It appeared that another swamp creature was loose in Westhold: someone wanted to make sure that Laeth didnat miss his appointment with death.

Balanced in a kneeling position, with eyes slitted so they wouldnat glisten in the faint light, Tris waited. The guardas body shifted suddenly across the floor as the killer changed its hold, and the healer got a clear view of what he faced.

Someone had told him once that many creatures of the swamp were things created by one of the old human wizardsa"the ones who had very nearly destroyed the world with their uncontrolled use of magic. The creature that suckled the neck of the dead man certainly had unnatural origins; Tris could sense a wrongness in her that a natural animal, be it ever so vicious, had never inspired.

From a distance she would appear to be a voluptuous naked woman. Tris was close enough to see the pointed ears, the flesh-colored gills on her neck, and that her long, silky hair grew from her back as much as her head.

The inch-long nails on her hands and bare feet were retractable, sliding in and out as she ate. Her eyes were closed as she concentrated on her meal.

Something around her neck was starting to glow purple; the light grew stronger even as Tris noted it. It was a collar of some sort, and she reached up to bat at it without taking her mouth from her prey.

As the glow intensified, she growled and hissed, jerking back from the body, a bead of blood trickling from the corner of her mouth like a teardrop. She tore at the collar, but it held firm.

To Trisas surreptitious examination, the collar reeked of human magic. If he had to guess, he would have bet gold that the collar contained some geas that forced her to find Laeth and kill him.

Sullenly she left the body and started toward the stairway, not noticing Tris frozen motionless only a length away. He would have let her go if it hadnat been for Laetha"weakened, unarmed, and waiting on the stairs.

When she passed him, Tris rose to his feet and held his staff at ready in one hand. He would wait as long as he could before attacking. The more he knew about her, the better chance he would have.

Tris saw her stiffen as she caught sight of Laeth, seated on the stair and momentarily unaware of the drama that was taking place. She hissed. Tris couldnat see Laeth, but he heard the sounds of the Darranian backing up the stairs quickly.

She made a soft barking sound that might have been a laugh before unleashing her magic. The wordless call that she sang was potent enough that even outside the focus of her magic, the healer could feel the pull.

As Laeth stumbled down the stairs, she backed away before him, leading him into the room with the rest of this nightas meal. She was intent on her prey, and didnat notice the healer sinking back into the shadows on one side of her, aided by his own magic.

Laeth took two steps forward, then stopped. He pulled his hands slowly to his ears. She increased the intensity of the summoning, making the tones evocative of sex and need. Sweat beaded on the Darranianas skin as he fought to stay where he was.

Enough, thought Tris, and struck at the side of her head with the metal-strewn end of his staff. It was a blow that would have killed any human, and it knocked her across the room and into an assortment of tables and implements whose purpose was lost to the dark. She returned to her feet in a silent, powerful rush.

Remembering Laethas earlier reaction, Tris closed his eyes momentarily and called a brilliant flash of magelight, just long enough to blind her, and took two quick steps to one side. She hit the table next to him, reducing it to kindling, and he swung again with his staff, connecting with her shoulder.

She seemed less hampered by the darkness than he was, so he recalled the magelight at a bearable level.

Her fangs were impressive but thin and sharp, more suited to opening the neck of her prey than fighting. Her eyes were slitted, like a catas, telling Tris that she was indeed more comfortable in the dark room than she would have been in the light. Head hurt her; one arm hung limply at her side and blood from her head blinded her right eye.

The hard, slick floor bothered her; he could see her testing it warily with each step. He had just come to the conclusion that he held the advantage in this fight, when she threw something at him with her good hand.

He raised his oak staff, and it caught the spell, absorbing most of it; the remainder flung him against a wall.

The creature laughed, and she sounded like a young girl. She drew her hand back again, but stopped mid-gesture. She looked surprised, and blood trickled out of her mouth. She coughed once before falling face forward. Laeth stepped out of the shadows behind her, holding a bloodstained metal bar with a sharp point. Tris assumed that it was something the guards used for torturing prisoners.

Laeth looked at the dead creature and said, aI donat suppose that we have to worry about any more guards.a Tris shook his head. aNot unless weave made enough noise to wake the men in the guardhouse. Wead better get moving.a Laeth nodded in agreement and followed, walking only a little stiffly.

On the first floor they found the bodies of the other two guards lying near the entrance. Tris stepped around them and into the darkness, with Laeth behind him.

The healer led Laeth to the outer wall of the keep, near the place where he and Rialla had entered. Laeth climbed the wall slowly, but without incident. Tris waited until the Darranian had reached the top before securing his staff and following him up and over.

They had reached the protective cover of the forest when the alarm bells began to sound. Laeth hesitated, and Tris grabbed his arm and pulled him deeper into the forest. Laeth waited for explanations until they were immersed in the heart of the woods. Then he stopped and leaned against a convenient tree to rest.

aMy thanks for your timely intervention, healer,a he said, with a wary look. aYouall have to excuse me for wondering why you did it.a Tris shrugged and made himself at home on a fallen log. aDo you believe in prophecy?a aWhat?a Laeth asked.

aI was given a riddle . . . a path to follow that might lead to something necessary to me.a aThis riddle requires that you risk your life for someone that you have shown every sign of disliking? A man, moreover, who is being held for killing the Lord of the Hold?a questioned Laeth incredulously.

Tris smiled slyly. aWell, now, Laeth of Sianim,a the healer said, amy actions tonight might reflect the fact that your associate is the only person Iave ever met who can beat me at Steal the Dragon.a aRialla?a Laethas voice was suddenly intent. aWhere is she? Is she safe?a Tris nodded. aSheas fine.a He hesitated, and honesty compelled him to add, aI hope. She should meet us at my cottage with your horses. Your lady is there as well.a aMarri?a There was relief and surprise in the lordas voice.

aShe came to let Rialla know that they intended to draw and quarter you in the morning,a said Tris.

aDid she tell you that Lord Jarroh intends to prosecute her for conspiracy to commit murder? That she is supposed to be locked in her room? The stupid chit came to warn me of something that any idiot would have noticed and someone saw hera"as youave probably already heard. Then she compounded the crime by insisting on seeing me in the tower.a Laeth shook his head in exasperation, but there was admiration in his tone as well.

Tris smiled and shook his head, saying solemnly, aThatas too bad then. Youall have to take her with you to Sianim.a Laeth looked at the healer for a minute before donning a return smile. aIsnat that too bad? Poor girl.a Straightening, Laeth sent an inquiring look at Tris. aShouldnat we be going, in case someone institutes a door-to-door search of the village? I seem to recall that is the first procedure the hold follows after a felon has escaped.a aTheyall wait until dawn; itas too easy to miss someone hiding in the night,a said Tris, getting to his feet anyway. aI imagine sheas worrying herself into a frenzy, though. Shall we go and relieve her anxiety?a WHEN THE TWO men reached Trisas cottage, there was no sign of life, except the healeras gelding dozing quietly in its pen.

Cautiously Tris opened the door and slipped in, followed by Laeth. The dim light of the waning moon caught Laethas bruised face.

A gasp was the only warning Laeth had before a shape launched itself over the counter and hit him with enough force to make him stagger back. Some part of him must have recognized the voice because he grabbed her and spun sideways, deflecting Trisas staff with his shoulder.

aOuch, plague it! I thought that wizards were supposed to be able to see in the dark. Itas only Marri.a When Laeth was sure that no additional blows were forthcoming, he turned on the lady. aBy the Lord of Death and all his minions, Marri! Donat you know better than to throw yourself on someone without identifying yourself first? If the healeras staff had fallen where it was aimed, it would have knocked the few brains that you have out on the floor; as it is, I think that he broke my shoulder blade.a His anger would have been more believable if it hadnat been for the fact that he held her close throughout the tirade, his hands gently smoothing the sobbing womanas hair. His voice softened remarkably. aItas all right, my heart. Donat carry on so. Iam safe now and so are you.a He looked up to say something to the healer, but Tris had tactfully and silently withdrawn to the back room.

WITH THE ALARM ringing in her hears, Rialla took the horses to the high road, where the guards would be sure to see their tracks. Riding Stoutheart and leading the mare, she kept them to a brisk trot they were capable of maintaining for several hours.

When the side road to Tallonwood appeared she trotted on past it, waiting for a dirt road in the opposite direction that would show her tracks well. She wanted no suspicion to fall on the heads of the hapless villagers or their healer.

She also didnat know what shape Laeth was in. It was possible that he was unable to travel on his own. By misleading the guards, she might be able to steal some time for Tris to get Laeth to the cottage.

Just as she turned off the road, she heard the thunder of a mounted party that was rapidly decreasing the distance she had won. Rialla tied the mareas reins so there was no chance that they would cause the horse to fall and left her to follow without being led.

When Rialla leaned forward and asked for a faster pace, the dun gelding responded by stretching its neck flat and breaking into a hard gallop that the more heavily laden and lesser quality beasts of the guardsmen would not be able to match for long. Though she wasnat as well bred as Stoutheart, without lead line or rider to hamper her, Riallaas mare had no trouble following.

When a hunting horn was sounded behind her, Rialla knew that the guards had seen her. She made sure that she stayed just within their eyesight, wanting them to chase her, rather than wandering through the countryside, where they might chance upon Tris and Laeth.

As the guardsa mounts tired, Rialla slowed Stoutheart, giving her horses a well-deserved breather. She guided the gelding onto a narrow game trail through the woods. Relaxing slightly, she settled deeper into the saddle, resting her back and legs. She glanced behind her occasionally to make sure that the guards didnat fall too far back.

The trail took a sharp turn through some bushes and over a narrow creek. Rialla looked back to see how far behind her pursuit was, just as her mount pushed through the brush and into a meadow. On the other side of the meadow was another party of guards.

With a series of startled shouts the fresh group broke into a hard gallop and Rialla turned the dun sharply to the left. She rose in her stirrups and leaned forward as her horse charged through the meadow and crashed headlong into the bushes on the other side, followed by the loyal little mare.

She decided that shead given Tris enough time and concentrated on losing her followersa"if she could. The new party was mounted on fresh horses and hers had already had quite a run. Stoutheartas shoulders were wet with sweat, but both he and the mare were still moving easily.

She could hear the men cursing as they fought through the brush. They were losing most of the advantage of following where her horses had already broken the branches, because there were too many of them; they tried to follow her as a pack instead of one at a time.

Most of the second party were falling behind, but there were a few who were more determined. At least one of them was mounted as well as Riallaa"probably a nobleman who had decided to relieve his boredom by chasing criminals.

Stoutheart stumbled to his knees in the rough footing, but recovered quickly. Rialla couldnat see any sign of lameness, so she stayed on him. Time enough to switch mounts when the gelding showed signs of weariness.

They broke through the last of the undergrowth to find themselves on a well-traveled road. Rialla pulled her mount to a trot and looked back to see if there was anyone still behind them.

The nobleman was still in pursuit, but she didnat see anyone else. Turning the gelding in a circle, she aimed him at the stone wall that ran the length of the road, and hoped that there was enough light from the sliver of moon that the horse could see to jump.

Rialla had carefully chosen the horses that she and Laeth took from Sianim. They were grain-fed and in fighting shape, lean and tough as only rigorous daily riding could make them. Rialla blessed that toughness as the gelding cleared the wall with a snort and the mare followed closely on his heels.

She looked back and swore silently. Despite their mad run across the salted field and the leap over the fence on the opposite side, the noble was still gaining ground.

She turned back into the forest, where skill played a greater role and minimized the advantage his fresher horse had. In the rough going, he quit gaining on her, but he didnat fall back either.

Rialla wasnat familiar with the area, and it seemed that the other rider was. Several times he took advantage of shorter, easier routes through the terrain that was rapidly becoming rougher as they raced away from the cultivated areas. The thought that he might be herding her occurred to Rialla just as the gully they were running down deepened and narrowed.

Rialla was afraid that the trap had already closed. The sides of the gorge werenat much taller than the trees that grew here and there along its length, but they were sheer and soft. Rialla searched frantically in the dark for an exit, certain that the canyon would end in another precipitous embankment.

Finally, she found a section of the ravine wall marred by a recent rock slide which had carved a path of skree and detritus that was marginally less steep than the rest of the wall. The trail was not inviting, but Rialla was desperate.

She sent the riderless horse up first, urging it with a swat and an empathic demand. The little mare leapt up like a deer and made it to the top.

Her scrambling hooves kicked loose the rocks, and slowly the whole slope began to move again. When the mare was safely up, Rialla turned Stoutheart at the tide of moving rocks that was their only way out.

True to his name, the gelding dug into the tumbling rock, his breath labored and clearly audible. A lesser horse would have failed, but wild-eyed and sweating, Stoutheart plunged to the top of the rubble and made a tremendous leap upward to solid ground. Dust rose as the slide rumbled to the bottom, leaving behind silence and a sheer wall that no horse could negotiate.

Rialla let the horses catch their breath. She wanted to get a clear look at the man who was so intent on catching her. It was only a moment later that the pursuing horse thundered down the ravine. His rider pulled him up when he saw the silhouette of his intended prey on the top edge of the bank.

She heard him swear. The only way that he was going to get his big horse to where she sat quietly watching was by backtracking to the entrance, and by that time she would be long gone and lost in the darkness.

She recognized his voice, but even if he hadnat spoken a word, she would have known him. Lord Jarroh had a way of carrying his muscular body that was unmistakable at this distance.

His fury caused his horse to half-rear, before it was ruthlessly controlled.

Lord Jarroh raged at her, his voice rough with grief, aWhy did you do it? He loved you, damn you. He was proud of the way that you defied the family to train in Sianim. He used to talk about how much he missed his clever brother. But he wasnat as clever, was he? He trusted those he loved too far. He didnat know that the bitch he married wanted his brotheras bed. He didnat know that his brother wanted the wealth and power that he possessed.a Rialla had forgotten Lord Jarrohas tendency to make speeches. He obviously thought that she was Laeth. If he knew that Laeth had escaped tonight, then it made sense.

She and Laeth were about the same height, her newly darkened hair was a similar color and length, and she was riding Laethas horse. A Darranian would never believe that a woman could elude two parties of guards and a Darranian lorda"much less that a slave could.

Rialla looked down at the man who had beaten the little slave to death that long ago day in Kentar. Stoutheart shifted restlessly under her and she forced herself to loosen the reins. She was glad that she wasnat carrying a knife or bow, because if she had been, he would be deada"and she had a use for him.

With Karsten dead and Laeth discredited, Lord Jarroh was the only one who would stand a chance of securing the alliance between Reth and Darran: the alliance that would mean an end to slavery in Darrana"if Winterseine didnat gain the power of Karstenas estates.

She kept her voice low and husky when she spoke. If Lord Jarroh knew that it was a woman who spoke, he would simply dismiss her words.

aI am not Lord Laeth, merely a compatriot of his from Sianim. My task was to divert pursuit from him, and by now he is safely spirited away. Still, I have a few thoughts to share with you.

aFirst, why should Lord Laeth choose to murder his own brother in a manner that was sure to put suspicion on him? If he can work magic, why not stage an accident? A misspent arrow or a slip down the stairs should have been easy enough for a man who can control a thing like the creature at the ball.

aThink about the man who is pushing so very hard to accuse Laeth. Who benefits if Laeth and Karsten are both dead? Who depends on income from the slave trade that would cease if the marriage between the princess and King Myr takes place?

aPerhaps you might turn your inquiry in other directions, since Laeth is now well beyond your reach.a With a small salute she turned her winded mount into the mountain country at a slow canter.

As soon as the trees hid her, she let Stoutheart drop into a walk. The mare followed as faithfully as any puppy, rubbing her sweaty head against Riallaas leg to relieve an itch under the leather bridle. Rialla only had to find her way back to the healeras cottage before morning, without running into anyone else, and the rescue would be complete.

She was forced to huddle in a thick copse of brush when she ran into some of the guards resting their horses. She couldnat tell if it was one of the parties that had been chasing her or not. There were probably stragglers scattered all over the woods. Luckily the guardas horses were too tired to bother to whinny a greeting, and Rialla kept hers quiet.

The enforced rest allowed her time to think about her speech to Lord Jarroh. Blowing at an errant strand of hair, Rialla shook her head at the idea that was presenting itself; but neither went away. The hair was an annoyance; the idea a possible solution to this disaster.

The guardsmen left eventually, and Rialla mounted the mare and set off in the general direction of the healeras cottage. She narrowly avoided another group of riders, and heard a third before she found Trisas home.