"Pez?"

He jumped. "Highness! And how high can you jump?" He yelled his nonsense out of habit.

"I was told you may still be here. What happened?" Pez looked around furtively. "I've come alone," Boaz assured him.

Pez motioned for the Zar to close the door, which he did. "Are you sure no one is there?" Boaz shook his head, frowning. Pez sighed softly. "The Grand Vizier attacked me."

"Attacked? Are you sure?"

Pez grimaced. "Well, he grabbed me by the neck and pinned me down. How else would you describe it?"

Boaz's frown deepened. "I did hear from the Elim that you were found struggling beneath him but I can't imagine why someone so phlegmatic as Tariq would assault you."

"Ah, you are of course referring to the new Tariq, not the one who served your father? That Tariq was rather easily excited."

"And this one?" Boaz asked.

"Is, apart from outward looks, an entirely different being...don't you think?"

Boaz's mouth twisted wryly. "He's certainly akin to the vestren."

"Except that even though the snake adapts its color to suit its surrounds, it remains a vestren."

Boaz looked faintly amused. "And Tariq?"

"Is quite simply changed. He is not adapting to a new role, Highness. He is not the man we all once knew."

Boaz sighed. "Where is this going, Pez? What are you saying?"

This was a dangerous question to be asked. Pez preferred honesty with the Zar...and Boaz deserved it, but how in Lyana's name could he convince the young royal that a demon had possessed the Grand Vizier's body? He had to try, though, because Maliz's attack today changed everything. Now Pez desperately needed his Zar's protection. He began carefully. "You have witnessed the Lore at work, Majesty."

Boaz frowned, confused. "Yes."

"So you have no choice but to believe magic exists."

"I still shake my head at that incident on the night of Ana's choosing, Pez. I don't understand it at all."

Pez nodded patiently. "Nevertheless, you've felt its touch upon you, and not just once, but again when you drew upon my powers during the execution of Horz."

Boaz nodded and Pez could see how uncomfortable this discussion made the young Zar. "You believe, don't you, Boaz?"

"Against all my upbringing and will, yes, I believe in magic," he said sombrely. "I could hardly refute it after being at its mercy."

"Then would you believe me if I told you that I thought an impostor roamed the Stone Palace?"

Boaz's head flicked up, his eyes wide with astonishment. "What sort of impostor?"

"One using magic."

"Against you?"

Pez shook his head, his stare intent, his expression serious. "Against all of us."

"I'm lost," Boaz said, opening his palms. "Who is this impostor?"

Pez held his breath. Then risked it. "He is Tariq."

Boaz stared at his friend, aghast.

At least he isn't laughing or dismissing me, Pez thought as he watched the young royal try to digest what had just been thrown at him. He took his time, the intensity of his stare not lessening. Pez held his gaze firmly.

The Zar spoke in a hushed tone when he finally addressed Pez. "You think the Grand Vizier is wielding a magic and that he is not the Tariq we have known for all these years." It was not a question but a bald statement.

Pez nodded, too scared to say anything. He knew how much he was asking for the Zar to go along with this notion.

"How did you reach this conclusion?"

"The same way you might, Majesty. He is behaving so differently it's not possible he is the same man. Consider his physical statethe change is remarkable, even the stoop has gone, and that's not physically possible for a man headed toward his eighth decade. How about the way he looks? Where is the forked beard hung with gems? Where are the bejeweled sandals? The ostentatious garments? And consider his approach to life. He is no longer the grasping, sycophantic, excitable courtier but suddenly a rational, sober, even modest counselor." Pez's voice took a tone of plea. "Perhaps in isolation none of these things matter, but together they surely prompt questions. Boaz, he is the man you once detested more than Salmeo. Now he is the first person you turn to for adviceand no, Majesty, this not jealousy speaking. This is fact." He returned to his former, more grim tone. "Consider the way his mind works. He was once shallow, an order taker, frightened of his own shadow. Now he leads. Now he thinks for himself, for you! Now he walks with the air of a man who to all intents and purposes feels invincible."

Boaz stopped him with a hand in the air. "Pez, listen to yourself! Do you know how far-fetched this sounds?"

The dwarf nodded. "I am only sorry I haven't had the courage to share my fears with you before today. But I didn't think you'd listen. I'm not even sure you can accept this now."

"Who else have you shared this with?"

"Only Lazar."

"And surely Lazar laughed in your face?"

"Quite the contrary, Majesty."

"He believes this?" Boaz asked, unable to hide his dismay.

Pez knew he had gone far enough with this conversation. Boaz would tolerate only so much. "He is deeply suspicious of the Grand Vizier."

"And still he saved his life," Boaz said, his tone disdainful.

Pez shrugged. "Lazar is honor bound, Majesty. He would leave no man of Percheron to die in the desert, no man of any nation, in fact."

"And what do you expect me to do with this outrageous information?" Boaz demanded, anger erupting now.

"I ask only that you keep it in mind, Highness. Don't dismiss my claim that the Grand Vizier meant me harm."

"But tell me, why would he want to harm you?"

Pez wanted to tell Boaz everythingabout the death of Zafira, the rising of Iridor, Lyana's battlebut instead he said merely, "He suspects that I am not the fool I appear to be."

"And he would be right! Are his suspicions enough to condemn him as a magical impostor? You are suggesting, are you not, that someone else walks in Tariq's body?" Pez could only nod. Boaz sighed, exasperated. "Pez, I am facing war with Galinsea. I don't know what I'm doing. I never lived through war alongside my father, so I have no experience to draw upon. It is taking every ounce of my resilience to stay brave in the face of this threat, in the loss of my wife, in the role as Zar. Please don't heap any more onto my shoulders."

Pez nodded apologetically and meant it. "Protect me, Boaz, that's all I ask. Keep the Grand Vizier from me. Perhaps use the Elim's complaint to forbid him from being near to me...just for a while, until this all blows over."

Boaz nodded. "I shall do that for you, Pez, but I think going into the desert again will achieve the distance you request. Are you sure about this trip?"

"Absolutely. I know exactly where Arafanz headed from our camp. It's all we have," Pez lied.

"How will you ever find the trail."

"Lazar will find it."

"You are very faithful to Ana."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

The Zar shrugged. "It's right that you are but your friendship with Ana, and, indeed, with Lazar, seem on a level with the friendship you and I share."

Pez looked at the Zar, astonished. "And that bothers you, Highness?"

"I just wonder sometimes..." Boaz hesitated, but Pez sensed the Zar felt himself to be in too deep to withdraw the statement.

"Yes?"

"Well, I'm wondering if a terrible choice were upon you, who you would choose."

Pez looked at Boaz, shocked. "Do you mean would I choose you over Lazar."

"For instance," Boaz replied, his firm gaze unwavering.

The dwarf was unsure how to answer his Zar. There was definitely a correct answer required here and he had to give the obvious one that the Zar wanted to hear. "Boaz, I would choose you. Although I'm deeply hurt that you would need to ask. May I ask, Highness, what precisely is bothering you about my friendship with Ana and Lazar?"

"I'm not sure. I wonder how far you'd go to protect a friend of yours."

"I have so few, Boaz, that if any of you were threatened in any way, I would do anything to protect you." Pez felt his initial surge of irritation turn to anger. He didn't understand Boaz's convoluted attack at all.

"You would lie?"

"I have lied for you many times."

"Ah, but you have lied only to others who think you are insane. You would not lie to Lazar or Ana about me."

"No, but that's because they love you. They are loyal to you. We all are."

"But you would protect one of your few friends at any cost?"

"Yes!"

"That is all I asked," Boaz said, infuriatingly calm. "Now, what about the impostor?"

Pez shrugged. There was nothing more to say. He had tried and he had failed to convince the Zar that his Vizier meant no good. Iridor must face Maliz aloneit was always so. "We'll worry about that once we have Zaradine Ana safely back by your side, Highness."

Seemingly satisfied, the Zar nodded and the atmosphere between them switched from a sense of being at odds to conspiratorial. "Pez, did you hear about the Spur and the Valide being discovered this morning?"

Confused by the switch, Pez nevertheless grinned. "I did." He waited, needed to see how Boaz handled the news and precisely how much he knew.

Boaz was suddenly back to being a young man, barely out of childhood, sharing an amusing conversation. He screwed up his face, as if smelling something bad. "I can't believe that Lazar has apparently been lusting for my mother all of this time."

Pez clamped down the surprise that rose instantly; where had that notion come from? He kept his expression open. "Neither can I," he replied truthfully.

"So you didn't know either?"

"This is the first I'm hearing of it. Lazar did tell me about an incident this morning but we didn't have time to discuss it."

"Hmm," Boaz mused.

"Does it anger you, Majesty?"

"Anger me?" Boaz asked, surprised. "No, I don't think so. I'm just shocked that Lazar hid his ardor so well from all of us who are close to him."

"Indeed."

"If anything, I suppose I should be quietly glad, to tell the truth."

"Because of Ana?"

Boaz's eyes narrowed as they regarded Pez. "You know me too well, dwarf. Anyone else would leap to the conclusion that I'd just be glad the bitterness between them was done with. I did warn Ana before she left that she would be scrutinized, that her behavior had to be exemplary."

"And it was, Highness. You have no cause for anxiety on that. Lazar behaved impeccably at all times as well, and I think any quiet concern you may have held in this regard is unfounded," he lied, unhappily.

"So I hear. I would share my concern only with you, Pez."

"Of course. And I would speak of it to no one."

"Leave now, Pez. If you are worried about Tariq, best you are gone from the palace to your rendezvous point with Lazar. I have a meeting with the Spur and the Grand Vizier shortly."

"We shall bring her back, Majesty," Pez said.

Boaz reach out and hugged him. "If it's true that she carries a son in her belly, then you must bring them both back to me." There was something in Boaz's voice that stirred a curiosity in Pez but he couldn't think about it now. He had to escape the palace, be gone from here, into the relative safety of the desert. Percheron would have to hold its own without its Spur or its royal buffoon. They were facing a far greater battle.

10.

Ghassal of the Percherese Protectorate was providing the Zar with thrice-hourly reports. Boaz had just learned that all was quiet at the Isles of Plenty. The Galinsean fleet was anchored, the sailors relaxed, and there was still no sign of which royal of most interest was aboard the ship.

The threat of war felt all-consuming and yet something more dire had been nagging at his mind for months. It was a matter he had given himself plenty of time to think on; to see it from every angle and to be sure that the decision he had secretly reached was the right one...the only one. "Send in my mother," he said to Bin. "I shall take quishtar with her on the balcony."