"You must," he said, catching hold of her hand and dragging her forward.

"But won't it know? That I'm not her?"

"Respond!"

Gavril gripped her wrist harder. 'Speak to it."

"He-hello?" Ilsi quavered. "I'm D-Dysis."

"At last. All these weeks-and no answer. I feared the worst." A burst of crackling almost obscured the faint voice. A burst of crackling almost obscured the faint voice. "Can you still hear me?" "Can you still hear me?"

"Ask who it is," Gavril murmured in Ilsi's ear. He could feel her trembling.

"Who's speaking?"

"Feodor, who else? Listen, Dysis, now that this infernal interference has cleared at last, I have vital news for your mistress-" Another loud burst of crackling cut across the voice. Another loud burst of crackling cut across the voice. ". . . Lord Gavril . . . his mother Elysia." ". . . Lord Gavril . . . his mother Elysia."

"What!" Gavril felt a shiver of apprehension go through him.

"P-please repeat," stammered Ilsi.

"Tell Lilias that Prince Eugene has Elysia Andar in his keeping. She must persuade Lord Gavril to-"

Gavril pushed Ilsi to one side.

"You're talking to Gavril Nagarian now. What has happened to my mother? And who are you?"

There was a silence, punctuated by crackling.

"Reply!" Gavril cried.

"Altan Kazimir is our envoy," came the indistinct response. came the indistinct response. "You will find him at Narvazh. You must do as he instructs. Make sure your men don't harm him, but bring him directly to you." "You will find him at Narvazh. You must do as he instructs. Make sure your men don't harm him, but bring him directly to you."

"Kazimir? Doctor Kazimir?" Gavril repeated.

"You must do exactly what Kazimir tells you. Or it will go ill with your mother."

The crackling suddenly ceased as the glittering artifact fell silent.

"Hello. Hello!" Gavril shouted. No response. His overriding impulse was to dash it to the ground, destroying its crystal perfection.

He looked up and saw Ilsi staring at him, face white as her starched linen apron.

"Your mother, my lord-"

"How can my mother be in Tielen?" Gavril said, utterly bewildered. "She's in Smarna, hundreds of miles away. What possible reason would she have to go to Tielen?"

"Perhaps they had her kidnapped?" whispered Ilsi, wide-eyed.

Shadowy figures stealing through the moonlit grounds of the Villa Andara, the sound of shattering window glass, a woman's terrified scream . . .

Even the thought of his mother's abduction filled him with a cold, irrational fury.

"Call Jushko to me!"

So Lilias was a spy. That at least made sense-of a kind. But on whose behalf had she been working? She was from Muscobar, not Tielen.

What had been going on in the world outside all the time he had been cut off here in this winter wilderness?

"My lord." Jushko appeared in the doorway. "What's Ilsi babbling about?"

"That mechanism," Gavril pointed to the mantelpiece, "is not a clock but some kind of communication device. Someone called Feodor has just told me that my mother is being held as a hostage by Prince Eugene of Tielen."

"What?" Jushko stared at him in evident disbelief.

"And Doctor Kazimir is at a place called Narvazh with further instructions."

"Kazimir at Narvazh?" repeated Jushko. "So he and Lilias were working for Tielen all along, eh? Pair of vipers, the two of 'em. Sooner we catch my lady Lilias, the better." He went up to the mechanism and peered at it suspiciously. "But your mother-what proof do we have they've got her? Did you hear her voice, did she speak to you?"

"You're saying it's a bluff?"

"Of course it's a bluff!" said Jushko.

Gavril heard the undisguised scorn in Jushko's voice. Jushko had given him the seasoned soldier's interpretation of Prince Eugene's tactics. Even if not intended as such, it felt like a slight, yet another druzhina druzhina criticism of his weakness as leader. criticism of his weakness as leader.

"Don't believe a word-until she's spoken to you and you're certain it's her."

"If only I could reestablish contact . . ." Gavril probed and pressed the crystal device, trying to coax it into life again. "There must be some trick to this." A faint thrumming pulse began in his temples. "Damn it all to hell, I can't make the cursed contraption work!"

"A bluff, I tell you," repeated Jushko.

"But what if my mother has has been kidnapped?" Gavril felt the faint thrumming quicken to an ominous throb. Pacing the confines of Kastel Drakhaon, waiting for the been kidnapped?" Gavril felt the faint thrumming quicken to an ominous throb. Pacing the confines of Kastel Drakhaon, waiting for the druzhina druzhina to find Altan Kazimir, would drive him mad. to find Altan Kazimir, would drive him mad.

"Jushko, I'm taking a scouting party to look for Kazimir and I want you to accompany me."

"Yes, my lord!" Jushko said.

"And as for Lilias and her part in this conspiracy-I want her brought back alive for questioning. Alive-and unharmed." Gavril pressed a hand to his throbbing forehead. "Station a man here by this device. At the first sign of further communication, he is to contact me."

Gavril smelled the familiar tang of sea brine on the biting wind.

"The sea! We can't be far now."

He urged the druzhina druzhina onward. The growing sense of foreboding had driven him relentlessly across the snowy moorlands, barely stopping to rest the horses, even riding at night by the thin light of the setting moon. Jushko had sent scouts on ahead to Narvazh to search for Doctor Kazimir, but as yet no one had reported back. onward. The growing sense of foreboding had driven him relentlessly across the snowy moorlands, barely stopping to rest the horses, even riding at night by the thin light of the setting moon. Jushko had sent scouts on ahead to Narvazh to search for Doctor Kazimir, but as yet no one had reported back.

Now Gavril spotted one of the scouts returning at a gallop across the snow, crouched low in the saddle as though to avoid enemy fire.

The scout wheeled his mount around and the horse skidded to a halt, hooves scuffing up lumps of snow.

"Narvazh-attacked-" His words came out on clouds of steam. "No sign-of Kazimir-"

"Attacked!" Gavril felt a shiver of fury, hot as fever, burn through his body. "Who attacked them? Are the attackers still there?"

The scout, trying to catch his breath, shook his head.

"On to Narvazh!" Gavril cried.

Narvazh lay huddled beneath them in a narrow cove, a scatter of gray stone fishermen's cottages and fish-gutting sheds, braced against the bitter winds that swept across the Saltyk Sea.

Gavril and his druzhina druzhina dismounted on the clifftop and stared down at the little port. The wind off the frozen sea battered them, stinging ears, eyes, and nostrils. There was no movement below, no wisps of smoke rising from the stunted chimneys, but on the wind, Gavril thought he caught a distant sound of coughing. dismounted on the clifftop and stared down at the little port. The wind off the frozen sea battered them, stinging ears, eyes, and nostrils. There was no movement below, no wisps of smoke rising from the stunted chimneys, but on the wind, Gavril thought he caught a distant sound of coughing.

The scout beckoned them to lead their horses down a winding cliff path. As they entered the village, they saw overturned barrels of salt fish leaking their contents onto the rocks.

"This feels wrong," Jushko muttered. "Just like walking straight into a trap." He sent two men back up the path to keep watch.

A door banged suddenly, slammed by the wind. Jushko whirled around, saber blade hissing from its sheath. The druzhina druzhina froze where they stood, axes and crossbows at the ready. froze where they stood, axes and crossbows at the ready.

"Come out!" Jushko shouted. "Show yourself!"

Gavril caught sight of a flicker of shadow within one of the cottages. He forced his chapped lips to move, tasting salt in the cracks.

"There!"

Two of the druzhina druzhina kicked in the door and dragged out a man, flinging him down in the trodden snow. kicked in the door and dragged out a man, flinging him down in the trodden snow.

"M-mercy, my lords." The man cowered in the snow, hands raised above his head in supplication.

"This isn't Kazimir," Jushko said. He sounded a little disappointed. "Get up. We mean you no harm. Tell the lord Drakhaon what's happened here."

"L-Lord Drakhaon-" stammered the man, even more terrified. "S-soldiers came over the ice. Fired on us. Smoke everywhere, white smoke-made everyone sick."

"Fan out!" Jushko ordered the druzhina druzhina. "Search. Everywhere!"

"How many soldiers?" Gavril asked.

The man gave a helpless shrug. "Difficult to-t-tell through the smoke."

"More than my druzhina druzhina here?" here?"

"Yes, oh yes." He nodded his head weakly. "Many more."

"And which way did they go?" Jushko demanded.

"Couldn't see."

"We're looking for a doctor. Calls himself Kazimir," Gavril said.

The man gave a shrug. "Never heard the name."

"And where are all the villagers?" Gavril thought he had heard the faint sound of coughing again.

"Sick. The old ones and the young, very sick. Our livestock dying. White smoke-must have been poisoned-"

"Look at this, Lord Drakhaon." One of the druzhina druzhina came back, balancing a twisted fragment of metal on the tip of his saber. came back, balancing a twisted fragment of metal on the tip of his saber.

Gavril took it in his gloved hand and examined it. It looked like a spent cartridge case-though larger than any ammunition he had ever come across in Smarna. The metal gleamed dully in the raw air, and it seemed as if there was a faint trace of some substance on the inner side. Cautiously he raised it to his nose and sniffed. "Faugh!" He let it drop to the snow. "That's not gunpowder." The dried, powdery deposit had given off an unpleasant odor, not dissimilar to some of the poisonous chymical compounds he used to mix to make his oil paints.

A feeble wail came from the open door of the cottage. Gavril turned and saw a young girl-child leaning against the doorframe, face sickly pale.

"Da-" she said, extending her arms shakily toward the man. The weak cry turned into a retching cough that went on and on.

"Go back to the warmth, Milla." The man hurried to her and gathered her up in his arms. The child was wheezing uncontrollably now, thin ribs heaving as she struggled to breathe.

Why had the attackers fired on harmless villagers? Gavril turned away, clenching his fists.

"You heard, Lord Drakhaon?" Jushko murmured in his ear. "They came over the ice? These soldiers have come from Tielen."

One of the scouts came slithering down the rocks at the far end of the cove.

"We've found tracks! Heading north."

Jushko gave the fragment of metal a vicious kick, sending it spinning far out over the snow.

"Let's get after them," Gavril said.

As they followed the scouts, leading the horses along the windblown sands, Gavril found himself tormented by a tumult of premonitions and forebodings. That dangerous, volatile mood gripped him again as it had outside Klim. He could-and might-do anything. And the consequences . . .

Stay in control.

He forced himself to concentrate on his surroundings.

Such a bleak, rocky shore, the crags and boulders white with a rime of frozen salt . . .

Beyond the shore stretched the sea that should have crashed against the rocks with the energy of great breakers but lay inert, a sheet of frozen water. And beyond, far across the Saltyk Sea, a distant suggestion of land that Jushko told him was Tielen. . . .

"Where's Kazimir?" muttered Jushko, scanning the vast expanse of gray-green ice.

"Over here!" One of the druzhina druzhina who had gone on ahead appeared from behind a large rock farther up the beach. who had gone on ahead appeared from behind a large rock farther up the beach.

Something lay half-hidden from view, camouflaged beneath driftwood and canvas.

"Looks like some kind of craft," Jushko said, pulling away the concealing branches and canvas. "See, this canvas has been used as a sail."