Mercy heard the sound and instantly knew she was in trouble.

She rolled over and, looking up, saw a woman glaring down, her arms folded and a stern look across her face. She wore a brilliant black gown decorated with precious stones that twinkled like stars. At the nearby table, another woman and eight men with grim faces stared at them.

"I don't recall inviting you to this meeting," the woman told Mercy. "Or you," she said to Allie, who had tumbled in behind Mercy. She then focused on Mr. Rings. "And I know I didn't invite you."

"Forgive us, Your Eminence," the two door guards said in near unison as they rushed forward, the foremost taking a rough hold of Allie. The second guard grabbed for Mercy, who scrambled to her feet, frightened.

The lady raised a delicate hand, bending it slightly at the wrist, and instantly the guard halted.

"You are forgiven," she told him. "Let her go."

The guard holding Allie obeyed and the little girl took a step away, looking at him warily.

"You're the empress?" Mercy asked.

"Yes," she replied. "My name is Modina."

"I'm Mercy."

"I know. Allie has told me all about you. And this is Mr. Rings, correct?" the empress asked, reaching out a hand and stroking the racc.o.o.n's head. Mr. Rings tilted his snout down in a shy gesture as he was awkwardly held to Mercy's chest, his belly exposed. "Is he the one causing all the trouble?"

"It's not his fault," Mercy blurted out. "We were just playing a game. Mr. Rings was the despicable thief who stole the crown jewels and me and Allie were on the hunt tracking him down to face the axman's justice. Mr. Rings just happens to be a really good thief."

"I see, but alas, we are in the middle of a very important meeting that does not include thieves, axmen, or little girls." She focused on Mr. Rings, as if she were speaking only to him. "And racc.o.o.ns, no matter how cute, are not allowed. If you two would be so kind as to take him back to the kitchen and ask Mr. Thinly to make him a plate of something, perhaps that will keep him out of mischief. See if he can also find some sweetmeats for the two of you-toffee, perhaps? And while he is being so kind, you might return the favor by asking if there are any ch.o.r.es you can do for him."

Mercy was nodding even before she finished.

"Away with you, then," she said, and the two sprinted back the way they had come, exchanging wide-eyed looks of relief.

Modina watched them race out, then turned back to the council. She did not resume her seat but preferred to walk, taking slow steps, circling the long table where her ministers and knights waited. The only sounds in the room were the crackle of the fire and the click of her shoes. She walked more for effect than from need. As empress, she had discovered the power and necessity of appearances.

The dress was an outward expression of this. Stiff, tight, restraining, noisy, and generally uncomfortable, it was nonetheless impressive. She noticed the expressions of awe in the eyes of all who beheld her. Awe begot respect; respect begot confidence; confidence begot courage, and she needed her people to be brave. She needed them to cast aside their doubts even in the face of a terrible growing shadow. She needed them to believe in the wisdom of a young woman even when faced with annihilation.

The men at the table were not fools. They would not be there if she thought them so. They were practical, clear-thinking, war-hardened leaders. Such romantic notions as the infallibility of a daughter of Novron did not impress them. The count of spears and a calculated plan were more to their liking. Still, even such efforts she knew to be futile. Warriors on a battlefield and the belief in a demiG.o.d empress would stand equal chance of saving them now. They had but one hope and-as a G.o.ddess, or as a thoughtful ruler-she needed their blind acceptance to raise the payment needed to buy time. So she walked with her head bowed, her fingers tapping her lower lip in apparent contemplation, giving the impression that she calculated the number of swords and shields, their positions at the choke points, the river dams set to be broken, the bridges set to be destroyed, the units of cavalry, the state of preparedness of the reserve battalions. More than anything she did not wish to appear to these old men as a flighty girl who held no understanding of the weight she bore.

She paused, looking at the fire, leaving her back to the table. "You are certain, then?" she asked.

"Yes, Your Eminence," Sir Breckton replied. "A beacon is burning."

"But only one?"

"We know that the elves are capable of swiftness and stealth. It's why we had so many signal patrols."

"Still, only one?"

"It's no accident."

"No, of course not," she said, pivoting on a heel so that her mantle swept gracefully around. "And I do not doubt it now, but it shows something of their ability. Out of twenty-four, only one man had enough time to lay a torch to a pile of oiled wood." She sighed. "They have crossed the Galewyr, then. Trent has fallen. Very well, send orders to clear the countryside, evacuate the towns and villages, and break the dams and bridges. Seal us off from the rest of the world-except for the southern pa.s.s. That we leave open for the princess. Thank you, gentlemen."

The meeting was over and the council stood. Breckton turned to Modina. "I will leave immediately to personally take charge of destroying the bridges in Colnora."

She nodded and noticed Amilia wince at his words. "Sir Breckton, I hope you do not take offense, but I would like to have my secretary accompany you so that she can report to me. I don't want to take you away from your duties just to keep me informed."

Both of them looked shocked. "But, Your Eminence, I will be riding north-there is risk-"

"I will leave it to her, then. Amilia? Will you go?"

She nodded. "As my empress wishes," she said solemnly, as if this were a terrible hardship that she would endure only for the sake of the empire. Amilia, however, was not a very good actress.

"As you will be pa.s.sing by Tarin Vale, see that you check on Amilia's family, and ensure they are sent here to the palace." This time Amilia lit up with genuine surprise.

"As you wish," Sir Breckton said with a bow.

Amilia said nothing but reached out and squeezed Modina's hand as she pa.s.sed her.

"One more thing," Modina said. "See to it that the man-the one that lit the fire-see that he receives a commendation of some kind. He should be rewarded."

"I will indeed, Your Eminence."

Servants entered the hall carrying plates but pulled up short with guilty looks.

"No, no, come in." She waved them forward. "Chancellor, you and I will continue in my office to allow these people to set up for the evening meal."

Outside the great hall, the corridors and public rooms buzzed with dozens of people walking, working, or just gathering to talk. She liked it this way; the castle felt alive. For so long she had lived within a cold hollow sh.e.l.l-a ghost within a mausoleum. But now, packed tightly with guests, all fighting for access to washbasins and seats at tables, and arguing over snoring and blanket stealing, it felt like a home. At times, she could almost imagine they were all relatives arriving as guests for a grand party or, perhaps, given the lingering mood, a funeral. She had never met most of those she saw, but they were family now. They were all family now.

Guards escorted them through the corridor and up the central stairs. Since the Royce Incident, as Breckton called it, he insisted she have bodyguards at all times. They ordered people in gruff tones to step back. "Empress!" they would call out, and crowds would gasp, look around nervously, dividing and bowing. She liked to smile and wave as she pa.s.sed, but on the stairs she had to hold the hem of her dress. The dress, for all its expense, was no end of problems and she looked forward to the end of the day, when she could retire to her room and slip into her linen nightgown.

She half considered going there now. Nimbus would not mind. He had seen her in it hundreds of times, and while he was a shining example of protocol himself, he was silent to the foibles she made. As Modina climbed the stairs, it occurred to her she would have no more reservation about changing her clothes in front of him than she would about doing so in front of Red or Amilia, as if he were a doctor or priest.

They entered what had once been Saldur's office. She had had most of the church paraphernalia and personal items removed. The chambermaids might even have scrubbed it-as the room did smell better.

The sun was setting outside the window, the last of the light quickly fading.

"How long has it been?" she asked Nimbus as he closed the office door.

"Only two days, Your Eminence," Nimbus replied.

"It seems so much longer. They must have reached Amberton Lee by now, right?"

"Yes, I should think so."

"I should have sent riders with them to report back. I don't like this waiting. Waiting to hear from them, waiting to hear the trumpet blare of invasion." She looked out at the dying light. "When they seal the northern pa.s.s and destroy the bridges in Colnora, the only way in or out of this city will be by sea or the southern gate. Do you think I should put more ships out to guard against a water invasion? We are vulnerable to that."

"It's possible, yet unlikely. I've never heard of elves being ones for sea going. I don't believe they brought ships with them across Dunmore. Breckton destroyed the Melengar fleet and-"

"What about Trent? They might have gone there for the ships."

The slender man nodded his powdered-wig-covered head. "Except that there was no need at that time. There will be no need until your men close the roads. Usually one doesn't go to great lengths unless one has to, and so far-"

"They have had an easy time of killing us. Will it be any harder for them here?"

"I think so," Nimbus said. "Unlike the others, we have had time to prepare."

"But will it be enough?"

"Against any human army we would be impregnable, but..."

Modina sat on the edge of her desk, her gown puffing out as she did. "The reports said swarms of Gilarabrywn. You've never seen one, Nimbus, but I have. They're giant, brutal, terrifying flying monsters. Just one of them destroyed my home-burned it to ash. They are unstoppable."

"And yet you stopped it."

"I killed one-the man said swarms! They will burn the city from the sky."

"The shelters are almost complete. The buildings will be lost, but the populace will be safe. They will not be able to take the city by Gilarabrywn. You have seen to that."

"What about food?"

"We've been lucky there. It was a good year. We have more in store than is usual for late winter. Fishermen are working around the clock harvesting, salting, and smoking. All meats and grain are rationed and underground. Even here at the castle the bulk of the stores are already in the old dungeon."

"It should slow them down, shouldn't it?"

"I think so," he said.

She looked back out the window at the snow-covered roofs. "What if Arista and the others had trouble? What if they were attacked by thieves? They might have died even before reaching the city."

"Thieves?" Nimbus asked, stifling a laugh. "I daresay I should pity any band of thieves that had the misfortune of a.s.saulting that party. I am certain they have entered Amberton Lee safely."

She turned to face him. His tone was so confident, so certain that it set her at ease. "Yes, I suppose you're right. We just have to hope they are successful. What obstacles they will face beneath the Lee will certainly be more formidable than a band of thieves."

CHAPTER 10.

BENEATH THE LEE.

Arista had no idea what time it was or how long they had walked since reaching the bottom of the shaft. Her feet, sore and heavy, slipped and stumbled over rocks. She yawned incessantly and her stomach growled, but there was no stopping-not yet.

They followed a series of narrow crevices so small and tight it often required crawling and, in the case of Elden, a sucked-in stomach and the occasional tug-of-war. It was frighteningly claustrophobic at times. She moved sideways through narrow slits where her nose pa.s.sed within inches of the opposite side. During this period, Arista's robe was the only source of light. At times, she noticed it dim or flicker briefly, which gave her concern. She would stiffen and instantly the light grew steady, often brighter, but as the night dragged on, the light drifted steadily from white to darker shades of blue.

The pa.s.sage widened and constricted, but Royce usually found a way to move ahead. On a few occasions, he was wrong and they needed to backtrack and find another way. At such times, Arista heard Magnus mumble. Royce must have heard him too, but the thief never spoke or looked in his direction. The dwarf, who moved through the tunnels like a fish in water, did not elaborate on his grumblings. He remained generally quiet and traveled in the rear or middle of the group, yet occasionally when Royce entered a crevice, Magnus might cough with a disapproving tone. Royce ignored him and invariably returned with a scowl. After a few missteps, Royce started turning away from an appealing path the moment Magnus made a sound, as if a new thought had just occurred to him. Silently worked out and agreed upon, the system functioned well enough for both of them.

The rest of the party followed mindlessly, focused only on their own feet. After the first hour, Alric, who had begun the march giving the occasional obvious direction or asking questions, then nodding his head as if approving some sort of action, gave up the pretense altogether. Soon he dragged himself along like the rest, blindly following wherever Magnus and Royce led.

"Mmm," Arista heard Magnus intoning somewhere ahead, as if he had just tasted something wonderful.

The princess was fumbling forward, ducking and twisting to get by as they struggled through another long narrow fissure. The blue light of her robe made the rock appear to glow.

"Wonderful," the dwarf muttered.

"What is?"

"You'll see."

They inched onward through the crevice, which became tighter. She felt forward with her feet, kicking away loose stones to find footing.

"Whoa." She heard Royce's voice from somewhere up ahead, speaking the word slowly with uncharacteristic awe. She attempted to look forward, but Mauvin and Alric, standing ahead of her in the narrow pa.s.s, blocked her view.

Alric soon exclaimed, "By Mar! How is that possible?"

"What's happening?" Degan said behind her.

"No clue-not there yet," she replied. "Mauvin's big head is blocking me."

"Hey!" he retorted. "It's not my fault. It gets really narrow in-Oh my G.o.d!"

Arista pushed forward.

Mauvin was right-the path did grow very tight-and she had to bend, squeeze, and step through. Her shoulders brushed the stone, her hair caught on jagged rocks, and her foot was almost stuck as she shifted her weight. She held her breath and pulled her body through the narrowest gap.

Once on the far side, the first thing she noticed was that she was standing in a large cavern, which, after the hours of crawling like a worm, was wonderful. The action of some forgotten river had cut the walls out in scoops and brushed them to a smooth wavy finish. Elongated pools of water that littered the floor shone as mirrors divided from each other by smooth ridges of rock.

The second thing she noticed was the stars.

"Oh my," she found herself saying as she looked up. The roof of the cavern appeared just like the night sky. Thousands of tiny points of light glowed bright. Captured in the enclosed s.p.a.ce, they illuminated the entire chamber. "Stars."

"Glowworms," Magnus corrected as he walked out ahead of her. "They leech on to the ceiling stone."

"They're beautiful," she said.

"Drome didn't put all his grandeur on the outside of Elan. Your castles, your towers, they are sad little toys. Here are the real treasures we h.o.a.rd. They call us misers on the surface-they have no idea. They sc.r.a.pe for gold, silver, and diamonds, never finding the real gems beneath their feet. Welcome to the house of Drome; you stand on his porch."

"There's a flat table of rock up there," Royce told them, pointing ahead at a ma.s.sive plate of stone that lay at a slight angle. "We'll camp, get some food, and sleep."

"Yes, yes, that sounds wonderful," Alric agreed, bobbing his head eagerly.

They walked around the pools filled with the reflected starlight. Myron and Elden, both with their eyes locked on the distant ceiling, missed their footing several times, soaking their feet-neither seemed to care. They climbed to the surface of the table rock, which was as large as the floor of the palace's great hall. It was a vague triangle, and the long point rose at the center of the cavern like the prow of a ship breaching a wave.

With no wood and no need for tents, making camp consisted entirely of dropping their packs and sitting down. Arista had the lightest pack, carrying only her own supplies of food, bedding, and water, but still, her shoulders ached and did so even more noticeably once she set her burden down. She planted herself on the prow, her legs dangling over the edge, and leaned back on her hands, rolling her head. She felt the aches in her neck and looked up at the false night sky. Elden was the first to join her; he settled in and mimicked her actions exactly. He smiled bashfully when he caught her looking. The big man's forehead and his left cheek had ugly sc.r.a.pes and his tunic was torn across the chest and along his right shoulder. It was a wonder he had made it through at all.

From her pack she pulled one of the meals, in a neatly sewn bag. She tore it open and found salted fish, a preserved egg with a green look to it, a bit of hard bread, walnuts, and a pickle. Just as she had once devoured the pork stew Hadrian and Royce had given her the first night she had traveled with them, she consumed this meal, and when finished, she searched the bag for any remaining crumbs. Sadly, she found only two more walnuts at the bottom. She considered opening another bag, but reason fought against the idea. Partially sated, her hunger lost its edge and gave up.

Most of the group found seats along the edge of the shelf and lined up like birds on a fence, their legs dangling at various rates of swing. Royce was the last to settle. As in the past, he spent some time exploring ahead and checking behind. Degan and Magnus sat together some distance from the rest, speaking together softly.