He rose and made for the door. Ilse followed him into the corridor. "Alesso."

Alesso turned. His lips curled in a sardonic smile. "What? You wish a kiss in farewell?"

She ignored his banter. "No. A favor. You must have the means to send messages to your colleagues. Send one for me to Lord Kosenmark, as quickly as you know how. Tell him..." She paused, wishing she knew how much she could commit to Alesso and his unknown a.s.sociates. "Tell him to expect word from me through the usual means. Tell him that we need a ship for pa.s.sage to a far foreign port. I can only tell him more once ... once we meet."

The smile faded as she spoke. He studied her a moment with a strange, unreadable expression. "I will send word to your love. And you, you remember your promise to me."

She nodded. "I will."

"Then we are friends indeed." He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. The next moment, he was hurrying toward the stairwell.

Ilse closed her eyes. Her pulse danced far too fast for comfort. I do not love him. I love Raul. Oh, but in a different life ...

No time for self-doubt. She spun back into the room.

"We need provisions," she said in an unsteady voice. "I'll fetch as much as I can from the kitchens. Galena, go to my bedroom. Help her to find better clothing for our journey."

She didn't wait for their reply, but sped outside and down the stairs. Once on the ground floor, she slowed her pace. It was quiet below, in these hours between midnight and dawn. A few lamps burned in their sockets, but otherwise the house was dark. Ahead, a bright light shone from the kitchen itself. She paused to collect herself, to think what she absolutely needed.

I need a guide, horse, provisions, and weapons. But salt and water will do for a start.

Only two scullions and a single senior girl sat by the open windows. They glanced up at Ilse with little interest. It wasn't unusual, after all, for those in the pleasure house to fetch a carafe of wine or water themselves. Ilse found a tray and loaded it with a jug of water and a loaf of bread. When she was certain no one watched her, she added a saltbox, tinder, two small metal pots, and a water skin. On her way back, she stopped by a storage closet for a lantern.

Back in her rooms, she found Valara dressed in one of Ilse's old baggy tunics. She had kept her prison trousers, though. "Yours were all too short," Valara said. "So were your shoes. Could you find me a pair of boots? Sandals even."

"We don't have much time." She noticed that Valara had found her ring. "You value that."

Valara's cheeks darkened. "I do. My brother gave it to me, years ago. I would not wish to lose it."

Yes. She had lost all her family to the Karovin. She would value any memento.

In her bedroom, Galena had pulled heaps of clothes from Ilse's trunks. She had separated the trousers and shirts Ilse used for drill from the others, and was folding them into bundles. "Do you have any packs?" she asked.

"None in my rooms. We'll use blankets instead."

Ilse gathered her weapons together-knives, her sword, the sheaths that went with them. That done, she pulled out the locked chest she kept under her bed. Her hands shook as she transferred money and jewels into a leather purse. They had made too many a.s.sumptions, left too many clues scattered through the past hour. She could only hope Alesso had told her the truth about the tunnels.

Galena uncovered a pair of oversized boots and took them to Valara to try on. Ilse changed rapidly into more practical clothes-boots, trousers, a plain shirt, the boots she had not worn since her journey from Tiralien to Osterling. She buckled on her belt, slid her sword into its sheath. Knives came next. One went into her boot, another into the sheath she fastened to her arm. She packed the leather purse among her clothes in one bag. On second thought, she added her map of Fortezzien and a map of Veraene's coast around Tiralien and Gallenz. She also packed her scroll from Lord Iani. In case we fail, came the fleeting thought. She shook away that idea and slung the blanket over her shoulder.

All ready.

Galena had packed the supplies from the kitchen into another blanket, which she gave to Valara. With a last glance around her bedroom, Ilse led her companions down the back stairwell and into the courtyard. "You go on to the harbor," she said to Galena. "You don't want to be late for watch."

"Not yet." Galena glanced meaningfully toward Valara.

"Take us to the tunnels first," Valara said. "Then I will do my part. I promise."

Galena studied Valara with a searching gaze. Then, with obvious reluctance, she said, "Good enough. You wouldn't find those doors without me anyway."

They took off through the dark, deserted streets of Osterling. The moon had sunk in the past hour, and clouds masked the stars. In Melnek and Tiralien, city watches patrolled the streets, but not here, where a fort overlooked the circling highway. With Galena leading the way, they stole through court and lane and avenue, across the main market square, where they recovered Galena's sword and shield, then on to the opposite side of the city.

"Not much farther," Galena whispered.

"What is that?" Ilse whispered back.

Footsteps rang off the paving stones. A voice called out, "Who goes there?"

A squad of soldiers marched toward them. Galena gave a sharp cry and drew her sword.

We are lost, Ilse thought. She had her own sword ready, but it was nothing against a full squad of trained soldiers. She took Valara by the hand, intending to drag her into the nearest alleyway. They still had a chance- Ei ruf ane gotter. Komen de hochkelte.

Bitter cold and green magic flooded the air. It buzzed against Ilse's fingers, enveloping her hand, and crawling up her arm. A strange darkness, thicker than night, had dropped over them. She could no longer feel Valara's hand. She tried to summon the current herself, but her lips refused to work. It was that same otherworldly signature from before. It reminded her of Anderswar, of its alien creatures and the guardian who met her each time she dared to enter.

The magic receded. She blinked. A short distance away stood a dozen still figures. The one in the lead had turned his head to call out orders.

The soldiers.

They did not move. They could not, she realized with a sick feeling. They all remained in the same rigid stance, their swords raised and mouths opened to speak. But their faces had turned gray, and heavy ice weighted their clothing. Even as she watched, water trickled from the ice to run in rivulets over the cobblestones. But the men did not move.

"What did you do?" she asked Valara.

Valara herself appeared stunned. "I am not certain."

A dull boom sounded. Ilse dropped into a crouch just as a second and third explosion followed. Bright sparks hovered overhead. A sulfurous stink rolled up from the harbor, and a bloodred light bathed the city. More explosions, these from a different quarter, followed by a bright gout of fire that rose toward the sky. Alesso and his distractions.

Galena stared in the direction of the harbor. "Old Josche," she whispered. "Giann. He killed everyone on the watch. He would have killed me, too."

"We don't know that," Ilse said.

"We do know that. And you wanted me to trust him."

I warned you about me, Ilse thought. That night you asked for my help.

She reached for Galena's hand, which felt cold and clammy, in spite of the warm night. "Come with us. My friend can help you, too. You can find another place, without the words on your face, without any pledge."

Galena shivered, but with another tug from Ilse, she turned away from the terrible spectacle below.

"One moment," Valara said. "We need to remove the evidence."

She spoke more words in Erythandran. Again came the scent and image of a fox. Then the frozen bodies of the soldiers shivered into dust. More words erased the spells and all traces of their presence.

Another quarter hour and they gained the old Keep's ruins. It was Galena who pointed out the entrance, guarded by an old wooden door between two ma.s.sive blocks of fallen stone. Soon they were inside. Ilse climbed down the stairs first, followed by Valara. Galena came last and shut the door, sinking them into darkness.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

VALARA LEANED AGAINST the damp stone wall of the tunnel's entryway. Darkness pressed in upon her; a sour smell permeated the air. The other two, the soldier and her friend from the pleasure house, spoke in soft tones. Something about the wisdom of setting a wooden beam across the door. Valara hardly cared. The exhilaration that had carried her from the prison through Osterling's streets, to that strange confrontation with the soldier and its aftermath, had vanished completely. Her bones were like water and a dull ache centered between her eyes. Hunger, no doubt. Thirst. Later, she might remember to be terrified. Right now it was too much trouble.

The emerald's voice vibrated deep within her. It sang without words, a stream of notes in a minor key, like a ship's ropes keening in the wind. Daya, the oldest, the emerald. Rana was the ruby, which Leos Dzavek had reclaimed. She couldn't recall what the third jewel called itself. In older lives, she had known them all. Known them even longer ago, when the three jewels were one.

Before my brother divided them.

No, that was the life before they were brothers. Leos had told Andrej once about his life dreams. Daya and its siblings had been one, a milk-white jewel, the chief treasure of the empire. He had been a priest charged with safeguarding the imperial treasury.

And I was a queen of Morenniou. And Miro Karasek my beloved.

Daya's music stopped abruptly, and Valara realized the woman named Ilse had addressed her.

"We must go on," she was saying. "Can you?"

Valara brushed aside her wish for sleep and nodded. "I can."

Galena lit the lantern with their tinderbox. The light flared. Hundreds of beetles scattered in all directions, like dry autumn leaves before the wind. Valara caught a glimpse of broken furniture, old casks, and heaps of trash, all overlaid by a coating of dust, before she ducked under the low brick arch and followed her two companions.

For the first hour or so, the tunnel was a broad straight road. They picked their way through the dust and trash, startling more beetles and rats with their presence, but they made good progress. Then a set of steps led them down into a much narrower pa.s.sageway that stank of dead things. Here the paving stones were broken; in places the brick-lined ceiling sagged dangerously. They jogged along bent over at first until the ever-lower ceiling forced them to crawl.

Valara soon lost count of the moments and hours. She ignored the patches of slime. The rats skittering over her hands or the tickle of spiders and their webs against her face. Whenever she slowed, Ilse poked her from behind. They had placed her in the middle, which meant they did not entirely trust her. She found she didn't much care. As long as they reached this mythical exit Alesso had promised them. Once beyond Osterling's magical shields, she could make the leap into Autrevelye and, from there, to Morenniou and home.

Home. To her people. To her father's advisers and his army, now hers.

She paused and closed her eyes tight against the darkness. Felt a surge of grief she had not expected after all these days.

A hand smacked her on the b.u.t.tocks.

"Don't stop," Ilse hissed.

It took all her willpower not to round on the woman and curse her with magic.

"Yes," she breathed. "I understand."

And she did. This was no time for grief. There wouldn't be time, until she regained her homeland, took her throne, and drove the enemy from her sh.o.r.es.

She shook away the tears and hurried to catch up with Galena, now several feet ahead. Only another few hours, a day at the most, and she could escape this kingdom entirely. But she had to be certain before she made such an attempt. Ilse Zhalina knew a great deal of magic. Not as much as Valara, but enough to make escape difficult. No matter what the woman claimed, Valara did not trust her and her so-called friend with influence. If they suspected she held the jewel, they would do the same as Markus Khandarr.

The same as I would.

Their lantern sputtered and died. Galena abandoned it, and they continued forward through a suffocating darkness. The broken tiles gave way to rubble and trash and loose dirt falling from the ceiling. From time to time, Ilse called for a brief stop so they might each drink a mouthful of water, but neither she nor Galena suggested a longer halt. Valara didn't argue. She did not want Markus Khandarr's soldiers to trap her here.

At last, they reached a sharp turn, which emptied into a large chamber. Valara stumbled, her muscles cramped from the hours and hours of crawling. Galena caught her by the elbow to steady her. Valara muttered a thanks. Her throat was clogged with dust, and her voice came out as a feeble croak.

"Water," Ilse said. Her own voice creaked. "Drink."

Valara accepted the water skin and took a great gulping swallow. The water was warm; it carried a tang of earth and the slightly flat quality of cistern water. She took another swallow and handed the water skin back to Ilse, who drank deeply before she returned it to Galena.

"Do you know where we are?" Valara asked.

"The end of the tunnel, I think," Galena said. "As far as we can go at least."

"You think? You mean you don't know?"

An uncomfortable pause followed.

"No," Ilse said. "Unless you remembered to bring the map. Did you?"

Her tone was light, almost amused-a courtier's voice, and very much out of place in this miserable dirty hole. Valara felt unaccustomed laugher fluttering beneath her ribs. If she gave way, she might start weeping from terror and exhaustion. She had the impression Ilse might do the same. "No. I forgot. My apologies."

"A pity. Perhaps we ought to explore this chamber carefully. Alesso claimed we should find the way straight and easy, but he might have misspoken."

A delicate way to say she had not trusted him completely, Valara thought.

They felt their way forward through the dark, keeping to the edge of the chamber. It was much larger than Valara had guessed-an irregular cavern made even more irregular by hundreds of crevices and alcoves. At one point, Galena discovered what must have been a continuation of their tunnel, but its entrance was blocked by an enormous spill of dirt and stones.

"Never mind," Ilse said. "What we want is the exit to the sh.o.r.e."

"What if he lied?" Galena said. "He lied about other things."

She and Ilse began a soft-voiced argument about what to do next. Valara turned away from them. Was it her imagination, or had the light in the cavern brightened? She rose onto her hands and knees. Air puffed against her face. She sniffed and smelled salt tang and gra.s.s.

Without waiting for the other two, she felt her way toward its source. Her hands encountered a spiderweb, an outcropping of rock, then a gap where a steady breeze filtered down from an unseen opening. She lifted her face and saw a wedge of light far above. "Here," she said. "I've found our exit. An exit. Look."

The argument behind her stopped. Galena came to Valara's side and craned her neck, trying to see up what Valara meant.

"Do we try to go on, or do we try this exit?" Valara said. "If it is the right one."

"We have no choice," Ilse said. "Galena, what about patrols?"

Galena shook her head. "It depends. We're supposed to be dead. Or sailed away in boats before fire took. But if the commanders think we headed north, they'll make sweeps all the way up the coast and inland."

Not a comforting answer, but Ilse was right. They had little choice.

The tunnel slanted upward gradually for a distance. It was slow miserable going. They had to crawl on hands and knees, scrabbling through loose dirt and debris. The dirt filled their noses and choked their already dry throats, but the sight of the sunlight far above encouraged them. As the pa.s.sage narrowed, they had to crawl on their bellies. The last section was the worst, the floor of the tunnel covered in thick layers of filth and bones.

At last, the entrance loomed ahead, a bright patch of sky and sun.

Galena crawled out first. She paused to scan her surroundings, then signaled to her companions to follow.

Ilse and Valara tumbled out of the pa.s.sage into the open air. They were high above the sh.o.r.e, on a narrow spine of rock. A fresh breeze, sweetened by rain, washed against Valara's face. She blinked, dazzled by the light darting off the green waters of a bay to her left. Down below, a highway followed the larger bends of the coast. "Where are we?" she said.

"Two or three miles from Osterling," Ilse said.

Not nearly far enough.

Ilse and Galena began a swift discussion on what direction to take. Valara collapsed onto her back. Her hands were bleeding from cuts. Her trousers were ripped and her knees raw from scrabbling through broken rocks and paving stones. It didn't matter. She was out of that miserable tunnel and breathing clean air. Off in the distance, she heard a gull cry, the soughing of waves against a sh.o.r.e. Galena was saying something about patrols and magic sniffers. It took all her self-control not to make the leap into Autrevelye right away.