The priestess made it to her feet and moved away, shielding herself from Alias by standing on the opposite side of Breck's horse. Alias shot a glance at the priestess, but Zhara had already pulled the hood of her cloak back up, hiding her face.

Dragonbait and Breck rolled around in the gra.s.s a few more times until the swordswoman asked, "Are you two having fun?"

Dragonbait looked up suddenly. When he caught sight of Zhara, safely out of the fracas, and Alias, watching with a bemused expression, he looked almost sheepish. He went limp and let Breck pin him to the ground.

"I have you now!" the ranger declared.

"Yes, but what are you going to do with him? You can't ride him, and he's too tough to eat," Alias said with a chuckle. "He might make an interesting pair of bootsa"maybe."

Breck looked at Alias and turned purple with fury at the sight of the swordswoman laughing at him. He released Dragonbait and leaped to his feet. "You!" he shouted, pointing a finger at Alias. "You helped her to escape! No wonder you were so anxious to defend her husband. Did Lord Mourngrym know?"

"Know what?" Alias asked, disdainful of the ranger's confused accusations.

"That she's your sister," Breck snarled.

"What are you talking about?" Alias snapped back. "I haven't any sisters."

"Then who is she?" Breck demanded, yanking the hood of Zhara's cloak off the priestess's head.

The swordswoman squinted in the moonlight at Zhara and saw, for the first time, what Breck had seen when he'd been rolling on the ground with the priestess. There was something familiar about the pointed chin, the high cheekbones, the thin nose, the green eyes, and the red hair. Alias gasped and backed away. Zhara's features were familiar because they were the swordswoman's own features. Except for the dusky hue of her southern skin, Zhara could have been Alias's twin. Alias realized in a flash just what Zhara was.

"No!" Alias shrieked furiously, drawing her sword. "She's not my sister! She's one of the fiend Phalse's sp.a.w.n!"

11.

Betrayals

Breck pulled away from Zhara and drew his own sword, but he looked at Alias doubtfully. Then he remembered the sage's words at the tribunal. "Elminster told us Phalse had been destroyed," he said.

"Yes," Alias admitted, "by my own hand. Before that, though, the little monster created her and eleven other of my lookalikes, p.a.w.ns that he intended to use to destroy his old enemy, Moander." Alias raised the tip of her sword to Zhara's throat. "That's why you're so eager to have Akabar go after Moander, isn't it? Because you're Phalse's creature."

Zhara met Alias's eyes with her own and replied calmly, "And are you still Moander's creature that you are so eager to see the Darkbringer live? Here is your chance to destroy me. You have your weapon in hand. Why not use it and finish me off?"

"You witch!" Alias growled. She threw her sword down and leaped at Zhara.

The two women tumbled to the ground. Dragonbait moved quickly to separate them, but Breck put his hand out to stop the saurial. "One thing you never want to do," he said with a chuckle, "is get between two women in a brawl."

The paladin's eyes narrowed angrily at Breck's patronizing tone and amused grin, but upon consideration, he accepted the wisdom of the ranger's words. He stood by watching Alias and Zhara roll about on the wet ground, thinking how ironic it was that only a few minutes before, the swordswoman had found his own battle with Breck so amusing.

Alias tried to wrap her hands around Zhara's throat, but she drew her hands away hastily, p.r.i.c.ked by some shards of metal. Beneath her robe, the priestess wore a studded leather collar around her neck. The swordswoman's eyes widened with a sudden suspicion. She grabbed the front of the priestess's robe and ripped the white fabric from the neck to the waistline. Beneath her robe, Zhara wore a chain shirt cut very low.

"You stole my armor!" Alias screeched. She raised a fist, but before she could slam it into Zhara's face, the priestess whipped a flail out from her sleeve and clubbed the swords-woman on the side of the head.

Alias rolled off Akabar's wife, moaning and clutching her ear and temple with both hands. Zhara stood and backed away from the swordswoman. Dragonbait bent over Alias, who was struggling to her knees.

"Have you finished your little catfight?" Breck asked.

"Catfight?" Zhara repeated, looking puzzled. "What does that mean?"

"When two women fight," Breck explained, "it's called a catfight."

"Why?" Zhara asked.

"Well, because women fight differently from mena"more like cats. You know, with your claws," Breck said, grinning.

Zhara's eyes narrowed angrily, and she twirled the end of her flail menacingly. "Come here, ranger, and I will show you how women fight," she growled.

Dragonbait abandoned Alias's side to step between Zhara and Breck. He grabbed the Turmishwoman's weapon arm and shook his head furiously.

"Let me go, Dragonbait!" Zhara demanded. "This arrogant northern barbarian is in need of a lesson," she said, tossing her head in Breck's direction.

Dragonbait threw his hands up in the air. This was like a nightmare, he thought. The only worse thing he could think of would be a fight between himself and Alias.

"Give me back my armor, you thief," Alias said, retrieving her sword and stumbling to her feet. A large b.u.mp and a dark bruise were forming on the side of her temple.

"I will return it to you," Zhara snapped. "I never wanted to wear it in the first place. Only a barbarian like yourself would do so without shame."

"You never wanted . . " Alias looked from Zhara to Dragonbait. "You gave her my armor, didn't you?" the swordswoman demanded of the paladin. "And that cloak, and those boots. They're mine, too, aren't they?"

Dragonbait nodded guiltily, signing that he was sorry. He moved toward Alias, reaching out to tend the wound on her bead.

Alias drew back sharply from the saurial. "Don't touch me!" she growled.

I'm sorry, Dragonbait signed again. Forgive me.

Alias turned her back on the saurial. "Never! Stay away from me. Don't talk to me," she said. "I've nothing to say to you." The swordswoman stalked away from the saurial. At the edge of the clearing, she stopped and leaned against a tree.

Dragonbait could see Alias's shoulder shaking, and he knew she was weeping. He felt sick to his stomach. He sat down on the gra.s.s and put his head on his knees.

Suddenly embarra.s.sed, Breck looked for something constructive to do. Bending down to pick up his horse's lead rope, he asked Zhara, "What did you do with Alias's horse?"

"I let it go free," Zhara said.

"You what?" Breck snapped.

"I let it go free so that you could not use it to hunt down my Akabar," Zhara explained. "I tried to get this one to run away, too, but it would not."

"Of course it wouldn't. It's my horse, and it's too well trained to do anything stupid like that. Where did you leave Alias's saddle?" Breck asked.

"It's on her horse," Zhara said.

Breck snorted. "Southerners," he muttered. "Don't you know anything about horses?" he asked.

"No," Zhara said simply, not in the least ashamed of her ignorance. "I am a priestess of Tymora, not a stablehand."

"Which way did it go?" Breck asked with annoyance.

"Why should I tell you?" Zhara said with a sniff.

"Because if you don't, the horse you 'let go free' is going to end up with saddle sores and bug bites and infections and probably die because you didn't bother to take off its saddle."

Zhara looked chagrined. "It went that way," she said pointing in the direction of Shadowdale.

"Come on, then," Breck said, pulling Zhara's arm. "You're going to help me find that horse."

Zhara pulled a light stone from her pocket and held it high so the ranger could search the ground for tracks. Fortunately the beast was tired and hungry, and they found it grazing on gra.s.s not too far off. Breck called out to it, and it came right up to him. "Silly creature," the ranger chided it as he grabbed its halter and scratched its forehead. "How could you leave us?" He pulled the horse's bedraggled lead rope up from the ground. "She could have caught this in something," Breck said, waving the end of the rope in Zhara's face. "Then she'd have starved to death or died of thirst."

"I am sorry," Zhara said. "I did not know. But I cannot let you kill my Akabar. He is no less innocent than this animal."

"How do you know? You weren't even there when Kyre was killed"

"Akabar is my husband. I know him very well. And Dragonbait says he knows Grypht well, and Grypht is not a monster."

"Kyre wouldn't lie," Breck insisted. "Kyre was my teacher. I knew her well, too."

"Was she your lover?" Zhara asked, with the detachment of a southern scholar.

The ranger flushed. "What kind of question is that?" he said angrily. "That's none of your business."

"Yes, it is," Zhara said. "You loved Kyre. That much is obvious. Lady Shaerl says Kyre was not ugly, but very beautiful. If she would not have you as a lover, perhaps you killed her out of anger or jealousy."

"You're crazy," Breck growled.

"Maybe she was afraid of your temper," Zhara suggested.

"She was not! She thought I was too young!" Breck shouted.

"Oh," Zhara said softly. "How old are you?" she asked the ranger.

"Twenty winters. Tymora! I can't believe I just told you that!" Breck exclaimed.

"That you're twenty years old? Why?" Zhara asked. "Is it some kind of a secret?"

"It's not that," Breck said, rubbing his temples. "Just forget it."

"Twenty is not so young," Zhara said.

Breck sighed with exasperation. "When I was eighteen, I made a fool of myself and pestered her too much about... how I felt about her. She thought we should stop working together for a while. She went awaya"disappeared for over a year. When I heard she'd asked the Harpers to a.s.sign me to the same tribunal with her, I thought maybe she finally considered me old enough."

"But she didn't?" Zhara asked.

Breck shrugged. "I don't know. Since she arrived in Shadowdale two days ago, I haven't managed to get more than a few moments alone with her, and she . . ." Breck hesitated.

"She what?" Zhara prompted gently.

"She was different. . . sort of unapproachable." Breck shook himself and looked down at the ground, feeling disloyal to the half-elf's memory. "No," he said, "that's not quite true. I was afraid to approach her . . . afraid of what she'd say. Now it doesn't matter anymore. I just wish she was still alive."

Without another word, Breck began to lead Alias's horse back to the clearing where they'd left Alias and Dragonbait. Zhara followed, lost in thought.

They found Dragonbait starting a cooking fire in the center of the clearing. Alias was grooming Breck's horse at the edge of the clearing with her back to the saurial. She kept her face a tight mask of concentration, trying to hide her turbulent mood.

Breck led Alias's horse over to a tree near Alias and wrapped its lead rope around a branch. His horse's saddle and saddlebags were spread out over a fallen tree.

"I went in your saddlebags for your brushes," Alias said.

"That's fine," Breck replied. "Hand me my sc.r.a.per, and I'll start on your horse," he offered, unsaddling Alias's mount. He laid the saddle on the fallen tree beside his own and tossed the sweaty horse blanket on top.

Alias handed a sweat sc.r.a.per to the ranger.

As Breck began cleaning off Alias's horse he said, "I'm sorry I accused you of helping Zhara escape."

Alias shrugged. "You didn't know how I felt about her."

"You didn't like her even before you knew she was youra" uma"one of your look-alikes, did you?" Breck asked.

"No, I didn't," Alias said.

"You know, she doesn't seem all that bad. Uh ... she's loyal to her husband at least," Breck said.

"Hmph!" Alias snorted. "She's just a good actress," the swordswoman replied spitefully.

"Dragonbait seems to like her."

"Dragonbait is a fool," Alias snarled.

Startled by the swordswoman's vehemence, Breck didn't reply. Alias finished grooming Breck's horse in silence. Then she pulled her saddlebags off her saddle and walked away to another tree at the edge of the clearing. She sat down beneath the tree and began to remove her armor.

When Breck finished grooming Alias's horse, he strolled over to the cooking fire. Dragonbait and Zhara had made up a delicious-looking stew from the rations and some wild herbs the saurial had collected along the trek. The saurial signed something to Zhara.

"Dragonbait wants you to take a bowl to Alias." Zhara explained to the ranger.

"Uh, sure," Breck said. "Does she usually stay angry with you for a long time?" he asked.

Dragonbait signed something for Zhara to translate.

"She's never been angry at him before," Zhara said.

"Great," the ranger muttered. "As if we didn't have enough problems with this hunt." He carried some bread and a bowl of stew for himself and one for the swordswoman over to the edge of the clearing, where Alias sat polishing her sword.

Alias looked up when the ranger approached. "I'm not hungry," she said.

"You've got to eat," Breck insisted squatting down beside her.