The wytchfire was barely smoldering on the bodies of the dead guards now. Even as he watched, it guttered out. Wytchfire spread horribly fast, but only lasted about ten seconds.

Ten seconds? Has it only been that long?

The sound of hooves brought Solon back into reality. He looked up at Duke Gyre, whose face was still and hard.

"You're a mage," the duke said.

"Yes, my lord," Solon said heavily. The lines were written now, by Solon's silence. The duke had no choice. Confronted with such a surprise, a more clever man would have pretended to have known Solon was a mage all along. Then he could have decided what to do with him later. Duke Gyre was too straightforward for that. It was his strength and his weakness.

"And you've been reporting on me to other mages."

"Only, only to friends, my lord." It was weak, and it made him sound weak to say it, Solon knew, but he couldn't imagine that it could all disappear like this. Surely his friendship with Regnus, surely ten years of service were worth more than this.

"No, Solon," Duke Gyre said. "Loyal va.s.sals don't spy on their lords. You've saved my life this day, but you've been betraying me for years. How could you?"

"It wasn't-"

"For my life, I give you yours. Begone. Take one of the horses and go. If I ever see your face again, I'll kill you."

"Stay with him," Dorian had said. "His life depends on it. A kingdom depends on it. 'By your word-or silence-a brother king lies dead.' " But he'd never said how long Solon had to serve his Lord Gyre, had he? Solon bowed low in front of his friend and took a bridle from Gurden, who looked too stunned for emotion. Solon mounted and turned his back on Lord Gyre. he'd never said how long Solon had to serve his Lord Gyre, had he? Solon bowed low in front of his friend and took a bridle from Gurden, who looked too stunned for emotion. Solon mounted and turned his back on Lord Gyre.

Did I save Cenaria today, or doom it?

38

Kylar's afternoon had been frantic. He'd had to get Logan to get someone else to get him an invitation, and then when he'd tried to find Durzo, the wetboy was gone, leaving a typically terse note: "On a job." Durzo didn't often give Kylar a lot of detail on his jobs, but lately Kylar felt that he was being more and more excluded, as if Durzo were trying to create s.p.a.ce between them so that it would be easier to kill Kylar when the time came.

Durzo's absence had meant that Kylar didn't have to confess to talking with Elene, botching it, and probably tightening security at the Jadwin estate all at once, so it wasn't altogether a bad thing. Now, because he'd told Logan he was coming to the party, he had to come without a disguise, but because he'd told Elene he was coming, if she saw him, she'd report him immediately.

That was why he'd come in a carriage, even though it would seem odd for a young n.o.ble alone not to ride. The carriage stopped at the gate and he handed his invitation to Birt. The man didn't recognize him, of course. He just looked over the invitation carefully and waved him in. Kylar was glad to see the man. If he was still guarding the door, it meant that the Jadwins didn't have enough guards to replace all the ones who'd worked earlier in the day and still guard the party. Maybe they hadn't believed Elene. After all, how would a serving girl know about the plots of wetboys?

Kylar took one step out of his carriage and froze. The carriage directly in front of his was open and a whip-thin man was stepping out of it. It was Hu Gibbet, all in chocolate leather and silks like a lord, long blond hair combed and gleaming, smiling with the disdain of a man superior to those around him. Kylar ducked back into his carriage. So it was true. He counted to ten and then, afraid that his driver would wonder what he was doing and maybe call attention to him, he stepped out of the carriage himself. He saw Hu disappearing inside. Kylar followed, producing the invitation again for the guards in front of the monstrous white oak door. Hu disappearing inside. Kylar followed, producing the invitation again for the guards in front of the monstrous white oak door.

"So have you gotten the old goat's permission?" Prince Aleine asked.

Logan looked at his friend on the other side of the long table heaped high with every delicacy the Jadwins thought would impress their guests. The table was near one of the walls of the vast great hall of white marble and white oak. Against the monochrome background, the n.o.bles were a riot of color. Several of the realm's most influential hecatonarchs, priests of the hundred G.o.ds, mingled in their myriad-colored robes. A band of minstrels in flamboyant cloaks and makeup fought for attention with lords and ladies high and low. Terah Graesin had shown up to the last big party two weeks ago in a scandalously low-cut red gown with a soaring hem. Terah was eighth in line for the throne, after the prince, the Gunder daughters, Logan, and her father Duke Graesin, and she adored the attention her position gave her. Her daring had touched off a new fashion, so this week all the gowns were either red or dared to expose more leg or breast or both than most prost.i.tutes did. This was fine for Terah Graesin, who was somehow able to look glamorous instead of cheap. Most women weren't so fortunate.

"I spoke with the count this morn-" Logan said when he was suddenly silenced as b.r.e.a.s.t.s went past. No, not just b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The b.r.e.a.s.t.s. They were perfect. Not precipitously exposed, but perfectly shaped, these floated past him, held in a gossamer embrace of fabric rejoicing to cling to such nubile curves. Logan didn't even see the woman's face. Then, as she walked past, the sweet curves of swaying hips and a flash of lean, muscular calves.

"And?" the prince asked. He looked at Logan expectantly, holding a plate with little samples of every delicacy on the table. "What'd he say?"

Logan face flamed. Too much time in the wilds. Except that that wasn't really true. His eyes seemed unattached to his mind at all, controlled directly from elsewhere. He moved further down the line, trying to remember what he'd been saying, his plate still empty as he rejected a few delicacies frica.s.seed, flambeed, or frosted. "He said-ah, my favorite!" Logan started heaping strawberries on his plate, grabbed a bowl, and filled it with chocolate fondue.

"Somehow I'm sure whatever Count Drake said, it wasn't 'ah, my favorite,' " Prince Aleine said, arching an eyebrow. "If he said no, you don't have to be embarra.s.sed. Everyone knows Count Drake is a little off. Their family mixes with commoners."

"He said yes."

"Like I said," the prince said. "He's a little off." He smiled and Logan laughed. "When are you going to propose?"

"Tomorrow. It'll be my birthday. Then no one can stop me."

"Does Serah know?" the prince asked.

"She suspects that I might do it soon, but she thinks that I need some time to consolidate my household and speak with my parents about it first."

"Good."

"What do you mean?" Logan asked.

They had reached the end of the long table. The prince stepped close to him. "I wanted to give you a birthday present myself. I know you've got feelings for Serah and I respect that, but Logan, you're a duke's son. Tomorrow you'll become one of the most powerful men in the realm, behind only the other dukes and my family. My father would love for you to marry Serah, and we both know why. If you marry her, you'll set your family back from the throne for two generations."

"Your Highness," Logan said, awkward.

"No, it's true. My father fears you, Logan. You are admired, respected, even held in awe here. That you've been gone half of every year hasn't alienated you like my father hoped. Instead, it's made you romantic. The hero off fighting for us on the borders, keeping the Khalidorans at bay. The king fears you, but I don't, Logan. His spies look at you and they can't believe that you are what you appear to be: a scholar, a fighter, and a loyal friend of the prince. They're schemers, so they see schemes. I see a friend. There are those who would destroy your family, Logan, by any means, and they won't tell me what they're planning-but I won't allow it. In fact, I'll do all I can to stop it." He looked down, grabbed a bit of fried plantain off a plate. "I'm here tonight to do a favor for my father. In return, he promised to give me whatever I ask. Whatever Whatever I ask." I ask."

"That's some favor," Logan said.

The prince waved a hand. "King Stupid gave my mother's favorite jewel to his mistress. I'm here to get it back. It doesn't matter. You know my sister?"

"Of course." Jenine was here somewhere. She was usually described as "sunny": very pretty, and very fifteen.

"She's smitten with you, Logan. She's been in love with you for two years. Talks about you all the time."

"You're joking. I've barely exchanged two words with her."

"So what," the prince said. "She's a great kid. She's pretty, only getting prettier, and she has my mother's intelligence-I know how important that is to you, my vituperative friend."

"I'm not vituperative," Logan said.

"See? I don't even know if you are or not. I just grabbed the biggest word I know. But Jeni would."

"What are you saying, Your Highness?"

"Jenine's your birthday present, Logan. If you want her. Marry her. Just give me the word."

Logan was stunned. "That's, that's quite the birthday present."

"Your family will be restored. Our children will grow up together. One of your grandchildren could share the throne with one of mine. You've been the best friend a man could ask for, Logan, and friends are something most princes don't get. I want to do well by you. You'll be happy, I promise it. Jenine is turning into an amazing woman. As I think you've noticed." The prince nodded.

Logan saw her then, looking at him across the room, and he realized he'd already seen her tonight. Or at least her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

His face flamed. He tried to summon words, but they abandoned him. Jenine stood there across the room, with the elegance of a woman far older, at least until one of her friends said something to her and she started giggling.

The prince laughed. "Say yes, and you can do all the things you were imagining a minute ago. Legitimately."

"I, I..." Logan's jaw worked. "I'm in love with Serah, Your Highness. Thank you for your offer, but-"

"Logan! Do everyone a favor. Say yes. Your parents will be overjoyed. Your family will be saved. Jenine will be ecstatic."

"You didn't tell her, did you?"

"Of course not. But think about it. Serah's great. But let's be honest, she's kind of pretty, but she's not as smart as you like, and you know what the rumors say about her getting around-"

"She's the opposite of a loose woman, Aleine. She hasn't even more than kissed me. me."

"But the rumors-"

"The rumors are because people hate her father. I love her. I'm going to marry her."

"Excuse me," a young blonde said. She slid between them and brushed past the prince to reach for a sweet roll. She was a scandal in red. The friction between her chest and the prince's nearly pulled her b.r.e.a.s.t.s free of her dress, which had something more like a navel-line than a neckline. The prince noticed, Logan saw. But then, he usually did. And so did Logan.

"I'm Viridiana," the girl said, catching the prince's eyes as they came back up. "I'm so sorry, excuse me." Not that it was an apology. Not that it was an accident.

Viridiana slipped back into the crowd, her dancer's body carrying the prince's eyes and his thoughts away from Logan. "Well, uh, think about it. Let's talk tomorrow, before you ask," the prince said, watching Viridiana head out to the back porch. She looked over her shoulder, and seeing him looking, smiled.

The prince looked down at his plate, piled high with a little bit of each delicacy on the table. Then he looked at Logan's, piled high with just one thing. "This, my friend," the prince said, "is the difference between us. If you'll excuse me, I've seen a dish I simply must sample."

Logan sighed. His eyes fell on Jenine again, who was still looking at him. It looked like her friends were urging her to go talk to him.

d.a.m.nation. Where's Serah?

39

There were guards on every stair. This wasn't good news. Kylar had made his way surrept.i.tiously through the party, trying to look so ordinary that no one gave him a second glance, but it wasn't easy. Especially doing it while keeping an eye out for Hu Gibbet, who most likely was doing the same thing. If Hu saw him, Kylar would lose the only advantage he had.

He made his way onto the back porch. Normally, he would have avoided it, because it was liberally strewn with couples. If one thing was guaranteed to make you feel lonely, it was seeing other people kissing pa.s.sionately in an alcove in the moonlight.

Now, though, Kylar was looking for a way to the second floor. A balcony hung just above the porch, and if he could figure out a route, he could climb to it quickly enough that no one would even notice. Of course, once he was upstairs, he'd still have to find the ka'kari, but he bet it was in the d.u.c.h.ess's room. People liked to keep their favorite jewels close.

The wall had no trellises. Maybe he could jump off the rail and vault off the wall high enough to grab the edge of the balcony, a good fifteen feet above. He could probably do it, but he'd have to get it on the first try. If he fell, no one would be able to ignore the noise he made when he crashed through the rose bushes below.

Still, it's better than standing here. Kylar breathed deeply. Kylar breathed deeply.

"Kylar?" It was a woman's voice. "Kylar, h.e.l.lo. What are you doing here?"

Kylar turned guiltily. "Serah! h.e.l.lo." She looked like she'd spent all day getting ready for the night. Her dress was modestly cut, but cla.s.sic, beautiful, and obviously far more expensive than anything Count Drake could afford. "Wow, Serah. That dress..."

She smiled and glowed, but only for a moment. "Logan's mother gave it to me."

He turned and grabbed the rail. Across the river, behind high walls, the castle towers gleamed in the moonlight, as near and unreachable as Serah herself.

She came and stood beside him. She said, "You know Logan is going to-"

"I know."

She put her hand on his. He turned and they looked into each other's eyes. "I'm so confused, Kylar. I want to say yes to him. I think I love him. But I also-"

He swept her into his arms roughly, throwing an arm around her back and a hand behind her neck. He pulled her to him and kissed her. For a moment, she gasped. And then she was kissing him back.

In the distance, as if all the way across the river, somewhere in the castle, he heard a door slam. But it was so far away, surely it didn't matter. Then he felt Serah stiffen in his arms and pull back.

A hand clapped on Kylar's shoulder, not gently.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing!" Logan shouted, spinning Kylar around.

Heads popped out of nooks and the porch went still. Kylar saw the prince's head among them.

"Something I should have done a long time ago," Kylar said. "You mind?"

"Oh s.h.i.t," the prince said. He started trying to disentangle himself from the young blonde who was wrapped around him in an alcove.

Kylar turned away from Logan as if to kiss Serah again, but Logan hauled him back around. Kylar's fist came first and caught Logan on the jaw. The big man stumbled back and blinked his eyes.

Serah shrank away, horrified, but she was already forgotten. Logan came forward, his hands up like a proper boxer. Kylar dropped into an unarmed fighting stance, Wind Through Aspens.

Logan came in and fought as Kylar knew he would: honorably. His punches came in above the belt. Textbook jabs and hooks. He was fast, far faster than he appeared, but fighting in such a rule-bound style, he might as well have been a cripple. Kylar wove in among his punches, brushing them aside, falling back slowly.

A crowd gathered in moments. Someone shouted that there was a fight and people started pouring outside.

The guards, admirably enough, were the first ones out. They moved forward to stop them.

"No," the prince said. "Let them fight."

The guards stopped. Kylar was so surprised he didn't dodge and the next punch knocked the wind out of him. He staggered back as Logan came in, his weight on his toes, crowding Kylar back against the railing.

Kylar gasped a few breaths, blocking his friend's punches with difficulty. As his wind returned, rage swept over him. He blocked a punch up, ducked beneath it, and rained four quick punches on Logan's ribs, sliding away from the railing.

Logan turned and swept a gale through the air with a huge roundhouse, stepping forward at the same time. Kylar dropped beneath the blow and flicked a foot into Logan's pelvis. Instead of taking a step, Logan found that his foot wasn't where he'd told it to be. He fell. Then Kylar's fist caught him across the face and he crashed to the ground.

"Don't get up," Kylar said.

There was a stunned silence from the crowd, followed by murmurs. They'd never seen anything like what Kylar was doing, but however effective it was, it wasn't n.o.ble to kick a man while boxing. Kylar didn't care. He had to finish this immediately.