He complied, murmuring, I am Prince Lucien of Galinsea.

Indeed you are, the giant said more gently now. Welcome, Prince Lucien.

How is this happening? I am dreaming.

You are dying again. You were saved once and will be again if you take the help you are offered. You must accept the aid, despite the person who offers it. You must get well and you must find Ana.

I know.

She is with child.

Lazar thought he might have nodded.

A new voice joined them. It was Ezram. You must bring the heir back to Percheron. It is important to restore the balance.

Lazar looked up, puzzled. Balance?

My brother means "for the chaos that is coming," Beloch explained.

You will need all of us, Ezram confirmed.

I don't understand.

You will when the time arrives.

But I want to understand now. What does Ezram mean?

Beloch sighed in a low rumble. You must free us, Lucien. All of usnot just us twins, but Crendel, Darso, Shakar.

But how?

Fret not, at the right time we come at your call.

At my call? Lazar repeated, totally confused. What is this time you speak of?

The coming of Lyana. It is what we have waited for.

But the old stories tell us she has come and gone before and none of the stone statues of Percheron did anything.

This time it is different, Ezram said.

So I am told, Lazar replied, a bleakness in his tone. What is my part in this?

You do not know? Beloch asked, surprised.

I have never known.

Then it is not for us to say. One of your duties is to release us, Lucien. That is your part for us.

Release you! How do I do such a thing? You are set in stone!

We are alive! We have always been alive! We are imprisoned through magic. You must thwart the magic.

How?

Only you know. You must find the solution fast. War is upon us.

Lazar hung his head. I don't It is within you. Beloch cut across Lazar's despair. You must go back now. Someone attends you.

Hurry, Ezram urged.

Through their voices and through his own breathing, above the pounding of his heart and the whoosh of blood coursing through his ears, fringing his fever and cutting through his confusion, Lazar heard a whisper, a voice he recognized, calling to him. Yet he turned back to the darkness, to the stone statues.

Answer me this! he cried at the brothers.

There is no Answer me! Is Ana the Goddess?

No, they replied together. But the Goddess rises.

And Lazar was flung backward, his eyelids springing open to regard Herezah leaning down, looking into his face. He read fear in her eyes.

Arafanz stood before a small fireplace that did little to ease the chill of the room. He was dressed in loose-fitting trousers and shirt, looking more like a soldier, less like a cleric. He looked suddenly younger. In his hand was a clay goblet, from which he sipped as she entered.

"Welcome, Ana," he said, voice soft, melodic. "I trust you are refreshed."

"I am, thank you," she stammered, unsure how this cozy scene matched the prison she understood this place to be.

"Come, sit, warm yourself. I should have sent a blanket to wrap around your shoulders. Forgive me."

"There is no need to fuss. You did not trouble yourself for the past three moons of my incarceration. It can hardly matter now."

He held her gaze intently and Ana was pleased she did not wither beneath it.

"Would you like me to explain?"

She nodded. "I would like to understand what this whole business of my capture is about. If you have no intention to kill or even ransom me, what use am I to you?"

"Come join me. I will tell you what I can."

She dabbed his lips with a soaked sponge. "Be calm. It's me, Herezah. You are feverish and hallucinating."

"But Beloch and Ezram are"

"Still in the bay, yes, where they're meant to be. Lazar, pay attention if you can. The Elim are here to bring you with me. They are going to carry you in a special karak. Can you hear me? Lazar?"

He shook his head from side to side, his face a mask of confusion.

Herezah turned to the two senior Elim with her. "Just take him. Ignore him if he resists. This is on the Zar's orders."

Salmeo stood nearby. "Rather intriguing to see him look so wasted. At the flogging he at least appeared strong, but now he's just a shadow of the Spur we all knew."

"Not once I've finished with him, Grand Master Eunuch," Herezah said, her tone crisp. "Let's get him back to the rooms we've prepared."

Under the amused gaze of the chief eunuch, six Elim lifted Lazar's struggling body, which was too weak to be anything more than a nuisance to their efforts to carry him.

"The Zar wants this house aired properly and cleaned," Herezah said, not even looking at Salmeo as she swept by him. "See to it, eunuch."

4.

Ana sat, feeling nervous as she watched Arafanz reach for the carafe of whatever he was drinking. Despite his seeming relaxation this evening, she realized that Arafanz was not a man who was ever tranquil in thought. His gaze was restless and his hands were rarely still. He didn't sit, preferred to stand.

"We have no ability to chill our food or wine, but this is Dorash, a sweet and mellow blend from the north," he explained as he poured. "It can be served cool rather than cold." He blinked. "Ah, Dorash is a grape from the region where one of your companions came fromthe one who perished in the desert."

"Jumo? You knew about it?"

"We watched."

"But you did not help," she admonished, a gust of pain rippling through her, reminding her of Lazar's despair.

"It was not our place to interfere and we had no intention of disrupting the special surprise we had planned for later."

"What else did you see?" Ana asked, suddenly fearing that his men had also shared her night of love in the Lazar's arms.

"How do you mean? Your party was followed from the moment you left the city of Percheron."

Ana was so shocked by this news that she could say nothing in response. She chose to hope that her betrayal of Boaz was not common knowledge amongst the Razaqin. She did not have the courage to find out for sure.

"Taste your wine, Ana, please," Arafanz urged, and she did, if for no other reason than to cover her anxiety. "Is it to your liking?"

"Does it really matter?" she snapped, trying to regain her equilibrium.

He shrugged. "I suppose not. I am not sure I can make you happy here but we shall try and do our best to treat you with courtesy."

"Really? So the murder of so many before my eyes is your idea of making a guest comfortable?"

Arafanz impaled her with a cool stare. "I explained to you I was making a point about what true loyalty really isand how ugly it can be."

"Well, it was meaningless! All I saw was men squander their lifeblood. Loyalty had no part in this. To me it was about convincing young, impressionable men that giving up their lives so cheaply had some reason."

"But that's it. There was reason. Proving loyalty to their cause."

"Proving loyalty to stupidity more like," Ana countered angrily.

"You have spirit. I'll grant you that," he murmured, and came as close to a full smile as Ana thought she might ever see from him.

"I care not that I impress you. Why am I here?"

"I want to cleanse Percheron of its sin."

She stared, uncomprehending, at her captor. "What do you mean?"

"We are going to kill everyone in the palace, including its servants and all of the priests at the temples. We shall spare the innocentsthe Percherese people who know no betterand we shall help Percheron to make a fresh start."

"A fresh start? As what?"

"A new regime."

"And you Zar, I suppose?" she said, her tone all scorn.

"No, in this regard you have me all wrong. I have no aspirations of that nature."

"Then what do you want, Arafanz?"

"Your child on the throne, Ana, and the faith of the Goddess restored. That is what I want."

Ana's horror couldn't have been more complete. She stared at him openmouthed, her goblet of wine forgotten, tilted in her lap with some of its contents spilling out onto her fresh linen robe.

Arafanz continued, "You are here for your protection and that of the child's. We nearly lost you in the palacewe shall not risk you again."

"We?"

"Ellyana and"

"Ellyana!" Ana stood. The goblet dropped and splashed what little wine was left across the floor as the clay shattered. "What has she to do with this?" she demanded, eyes glittering with anger.

"Everything."

"So you are a follower of Lyana?"

"All of us here are."

Ana felt her bile rising. "And those men killed themselves for her?"

"Certainly not for me, or you," came his reply. "I am purely their leader and her disciple. I will restore her to Percheron. This time it is different."

"And me? What is your interest in me, then? Simply my child?"

He nodded, looking away. "An heir to the throne. A follower, faithful to Lyana. We know you are. We know your child will be. We know the Goddess wants you safe, your child crowned."

"But who is Lyana?" she asked, feeling the question catch on her breath.

He shook his head. "No one knows, this time not even Iridor."