Did she dare try it?

She'd never cast the spell....

But she'd studied a scroll describing it and she'd seen it cast. Had memorized the incant ...

... and Mag was already dead.

She had nothing to lose by trying.

Gabrielle breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped outside. The Imperial gardens were as grandiose as the rest of the palace, but at least out here there were trees and blue sky and the freedom of crisp mountain air moving in and out of her lungs. An urge to cast off her confining clothes and dance barefoot upon the greensward surged through her.

The Garden of Nations-which contained a plot for each of the kingdoms of Koth with native plants and laid out in the fashion of that country's culture-called to her. Haraland's garden never failed to relax her with its grassy walkways between fragrant lilacs and magnificent rose beds. But for some reason, today her steps took her to a part of the garden she'd never seen before.

Out here, away from the oppressive presence of the Emperor, she allowed the resentment she usually held at bay to surge forward. Most of her life had been spent navigating kings and courts and politics with grace and finesse. But nothing could have prepared her for the Emperor and the intrigue-laden morass with which he surrounded himself. It was almost as if he encouraged the maneuvering and backstabbing as a way of keeping his subjects occupied and distracted.

Her greatest blessing was Regalo. He was kind and loyal and loving. He wanted children, but she was loathe to bring any child into the world to grow into a pawn under the Emperor's heavy hand. Regalo told her she must have faith and take a chance on their children finding happiness. Mayhap if they went back to Haraland for a while ... Then she might consider taking the risk of bearing a child.

In a tiny act of rebellion against the Empire, she did give in to her urge to dance in the emperor's garden. Although she left most of her clothes on. How long she cavorted like a young girl she could not say. Until she was out of breath and her hair was coming out of its pins.

She looked around, panting, and was startled to realize she had no idea where she was. It looked like a natural forest thick with trees and underbrush. Only thin streaks of sunlight wended through the greenery, creating a mysterious atmosphere. She thought she saw a large, cloaked figure retreating rapidly, bat-like, around a bend in the path, but it was no doubt just a trick of the shadows.

How did she come to be here? She looked around in distress. With her breathing problems, she dared not stray too far from the palace and its healers.

"Your Highness. How dost thee fare this fine day?"

She looked up sharply and saw another figure approaching quickly from the other direction. This one was not furtive and shadowed, however. Quite the opposite. He was dressed in a shining white shirt of satin that seemed to glow in the forest glade. He passed by her guard, who nodded in recognition and let the newcomer pass.

A shockingly handsome elf came to a halt and executed a short bow before her. He was kindari, with russet hair the color of oak leaves in autumn. His face was covered by a finely drawn scrollwork of red-brown lines reminiscent of a darvan. The stag's antler's swirled around his eyes and across his forehead. She had seen him at court before, and his blazon, embroidered over his heart, was of a magnificent stag. As always, when she looked at an elf she had seen long ago she got the impression of time standing still for him while she aged doubly fast.

"I'm sorry," she murmured courteously, "I do not believe we have been introduced."

"A grievous oversight on my part," the elf replied with a smile so dazzling she actually felt a bit befuddled. "I am Talissar."

Ahh. She knew the name. He was consort to the Queen of Quantaine. His good looks and charm were gossiped about frequently at court. Queen Lyssandra, a silvani-high elf-was said to keep him at home in Quantaine most of the time for fear that he would be stolen away from her at court. Now and again, rumor linked Talissar with Princess Endellian herself. Gabrielle could see why the heir to the throne might favor this one. He was exquisite.

Belatedly, she realized she was staring at the fellow. "I apologize for staring, good sir. You are as beautiful as the court gossips say. You must get tired of people ogling you."

His smile softened. Took on a genuine warmth. "My humble thanks. That is the kindest compliment I have heard in a long while."

"Well, you are in the Imperial Seat, after all," she replied dryly, the implication clear that kindness was not a sentiment oft practiced there.

He laughed, the sound of his humor as warm as a carillon of chiming bells. My, my. No wonder Queen Lyssandra had made him her official companion.

"Beist thee well, Your Highness?" he asked her in thinly disguised concern.

Startled, she replied, "Why, yes. I am fine. Thank you for asking." Was some rumor afoot that she was ill? It was a strange question for a stranger to ask. "Walk with me?" she invited politely.

He held out his left forearm formally to her. "My pleasure."

She laid her fingers lightly upon his embroidered shirtsleeve. The fabric was impossibly smooth under her fingertips. He surprised her by plunging deeper into the trees along a narrow path that did not look as if it had been tended in a while.

"What is this place?" she asked curiously.

"We wander a portion of the Quantainian garden. If such natural woods makest thee uncomfortable, we shall return forthwith to the rose gardens of Haraland," he declared.

She glanced over her shoulder at her bodyguard trailing along a few paces back. "This glade is pretty. I am merely surprised and not discomfited. I confess, I have never seen this part of the garden."

He asked cautiously, "Thee hast never strolled aimlessly and looked up to find thyself here before, then?"

Odd. That was exactly how it had happened today. "No, never."

"Camest thee here alone?"

"If you do not count my guard, that would be correct."

He frowned. "Hmm."

"What is amiss, Lord Talissar?"

He shook his head as if to clear an absurd notion from it. "Thee hadst about thyself the look of a person operating under..."-he hesitated and then plunged ahead, "... "a subliminal compulsion. Thee hast never been alone in the company of a Kothite High Lord, perchance?"

She would never put herself in such a compromising situation! She was a married woman. A queen. Devoted to her husband. "I would never dally with anyone at court!" she exclaimed, offended.

He held up his hands in apology. "I in no way meant to offend nor to impugn thine honor, Your Highness. One hast but to spend but a few moments in the presence of thee and thy husband to know thee wouldst never betray him."

"Then why the questions?" she pressed. It was entirely incongruous of this sophisticated man to bring up such unpleasant innuendos randomly.

He answered reluctantly, "In the past, I have seen women in this particular place before with a particular look in their eye as if they knew not what brought them here. And they were generally here to meet ... a particular person."

"Who?" she demanded.

With a hand over his heart, he made a short bow of apology. "It would be imprudent of me to name him."

So. This seducer was powerful. Prominent. And used his mental abilities to compel women to come to him, eh? That was despicable. "Why this place?" she speculated.

Talissar did not miss her meaning. Why would a Kothite lord mind-control women to come to this wild corner of the gardens for trysts with him? "Thee must admit this place is completely unlike any other in the gardens. Who knows? Perhaps his ... conquests ... did not know themselves still to be on the palace grounds."

She shivered and drew her light shawl closer about her shoulders.

"I confess I have seen thee before in this place..."-he paused and then added delicately, "... dancing."

Appalled, she stared about in dismay. "I must leave this glade and never return!"

He said gently, "Do not hate the forest because of how one man abuses its natural solitude."

She did not know what to say. She had been here before? Why did she have no recollection of it? And she had danced? What was wrong with her? They strolled in silence for a while as she tried and failed to come up with answers.

Talissar eventually commented, "Whenever I come here, I imagine that a kindari gardener secretly saved this spot from being trimmed, chopped, and contorted into some unnatural charade of nature."

Gabrielle laughed, grateful for the welcome distraction from her disturbing thoughts and delighted at the irreverence of the observation. "Have a care to whom you say such things, or you will find yourself the main course at a torturer's feast, sir."

Talissar stopped and half-turned to study her intently. His voice low and charged, he asked, "Wouldst thee betray me to the Emperor for my lack of proper respect?"

There was clearly more to the question than met the ear. But what? She answered carefully, "Never, sir." Her gaze strayed involuntarily to the guard now standing on the path several dozen yards away.

"Ahh, yes," Talissar murmured. "Thy knight, Krugar, did not fare well at the hands of the Emperor and his lackey, did he?"

She was startled at the mention of the name. Vague memory of a servant of her husband's came to mind. The fellow had caused some sort of scandal a long time ago. She'd all but forgotten the incident. Why would the kindari bring up such an obscure event? She looked searchingly into his eyes. Was he sent here by Maximillian to test her loyalty?

His voice dropped ever lower. "I will say it if thee will not. Thy man did not deserve what he got. He merely protected his liege lady from attack. He did his duty, and was punished terribly and, dare I say, unfairly for his loyalty and faithful service."

What on Urth did he speak of? "What game do you play at?" she murmured back. "Is this a trap?"

"No trap, Your Highness. Upon that thee hast my word."

Clearly, he had a purpose in approaching her. This was no chance meeting in the gardens. "What is your business with me?" she asked.

"The rumors of thy forthright nature are not exaggerated, I see," he commented. She frowned, not seeing his gambit, as he continued smoothly, "My queen hast asked me to broach a small trade matter with thee rather than bother thy busy husband with it directly."

"And what would that matter be, good sir?"

"Our two kingdoms are, as thee knowest, the primary sources of ironwood for the Empire."

Of course. The ironwood dispute. The rare and nearly indestructible wood was in great demand by the Empire. Regalo wanted to limit harvesting of the trees to ensure the survival and proper reseeding of the ironwood forests. Rumor had it that, because of Regalo's stubbornness on the matter, Queen Lyssandra was under enormous pressure from the Forester's Guild and Imperial weapon makers to increase her harvest to levels that would ultimately destroy the ironwood stands in Quantaine. The short-term profits Quantaine stood to gain would largely make up for last year's poor harvest there, however.

"What would you have me whisper in my husband's ear, sir?"

Talissar seemed taken aback at her blunt question. With a glance at her guard, he walked on with her and did not answer. Instead, he led her all the way through the trees to the edge of the massive rampart marking the edge of the White Crown Plaza. Her guard stayed within the margin of the trees, several dozen yards away, guarding any approach from that direction as she and the kindari moved to the wall to take in the view.

She trailed her fingers across the smooth white granite, amazed anew at how it never aged or weathered. Although, like the Empire it housed, the granite was not truly white. If a person looked closely, specks of silver and black flecked the stone.

The Imperial Seat of Koth, located in the mountain range known as Thoris's Shield, was comprised of eight cantons perched on the leveled tops of eight mountains forming a rough octagon beside the Sea of Light. The various cantons were connected by the Sky Walks, a series of delicately arched white granite bridges said to have been built-grown, actually-by giants. The notion of such big, ungainly creatures creating structures of such lightness and grace, let alone growing stones, made her doubt the story, personally.

Running through the center of the mountain cluster was the Crystal River. Spanning it was a cluster of bridges that formed a circular, intricate, rose-like pattern in the very center of the octagonal mountain range. Atop this structure of flying buttresses sat the White Crown Plaza, a massive terrace sprawling over the broad river and well beyond both its banks. Upon the plaza sat the Imperial palace and its grounds.

She knew better than to look directly down over the edge of the wall. The drop to the glittering river below was dizzying to contemplate. She'd always thought that, from a distance, it looked as if the support bridges were the linked fingers of giant hands, offering up the palace and its black flame like a jeweled crown to the heavens themselves.

"Thee and me, we are in an interesting position," Talissar said thoughtfully.

"How is that?"

"We are close to thrones, trusted by our spouses, yet neither of us holds much sway in our own right. Our influence is indirect. Hidden."

Where was he going with this? It was as if he circled about some point he wished to make but could not find the courage to address directly.

Talissar planted his elbows upon the wall and stared out to sea. He let out a sigh and lost the rigidity she had not known was in his posture until it melted away. Throwing her a sidelong glance, he murmured, "I find thee a most interesting study."

"How is that?" This genuinely interested Gabrielle. It was not the sort of thing courtiers often discussed openly.

"Thee hast not entirely forgotten thy knight, even after all this time. The strength of thy mind is impressive."

"I have no idea what you speak of, sir." Gabrielle declared.

"I have been observing thee, Your Highness, for a very long time. Thy mental discipline is extraordinary. To have functioned so long at court and barely given away thy doubts about the Empire? Really. It is extraordinary."

"I beg your p-p-ardon?" she sputtered.

Talissar shrugged. "Is it possible that thy reluctance to bear offspring might stem from thy ... distaste ... for the current regime?"

Gabrielle stared. People were speculating on her childless state? And her dislike of Maximillian was common knowledge? Horror and cold, hard terror poured through her. She must leave the court. Immediately. Before the Emperor got wind of her treasonous leanings.

"Please, do not panic. I am most circumspect in my observations."

"How can I not panic?" Gabrielle exclaimed. "If you believe you see these things, anyone can claim to see the same!"

Talissar responded urgently, "I assure thee, I can hold my tongue and would never betray thee. Quite the opposite, in fact."

Gabrielle went still. The opposite of betrayal? What on Urth does that mean?

"Thine instincts beist exceptional," Talissar complimented quietly. "Even now thee sensest where I am going, although I have not yet led thee down that path of logic."

Confusion warred with fear. She dared not say any more until this elf showed the cards in his hand.

The kindari sighed. "Your Highness, I understand that thee darest not risk more until I have revealed myself entirely. Queen Lyssandra has no idea that I approach thee, but it is for her that I put my life in thy hands."

"Your life? What madness do you speak?" Gabrielle ventured to whisper when he did not continue.

With a glance at her guard, Talissar angled his back more fully to the fellow and spoke in an undertone that would not carry five feet, his lips never moving. "I share thy dislike of the Emperor. I also happen to believe this Empire is not necessarily as eternal as he would have us all think."

She sucked in a sharp breath. It hissed between her teeth and settled like a viper in her breast. He spoke outright treason. His words were death to think, let alone utter.

As if he read her thoughts, he muttered, "Why dost thee think I stay so far from court? I cannot chance having my mind come under scrutiny."

"Does your queen know the direction of your thoughts?" Gabrielle demanded.

"Of course not. Maximillian watches his Council of Kings far too closely for that. She takes no part whatsoever in what I speak of. She has no idea who I approach, what actions I take, or what plans we make."

We? The word exploded across her brain like one of Maximillian's fireworks displays. It was conspiracy he spoke of. Her jaw fell open. The audacity it took to speak such words, on the very grounds of the Emperor's palace no less, astounded her.

"A select few of us, close to the Council of Kings, with indirect access to information and resources, have the capacity to ... influence ... certain events. Dost thou understand what I am saying?"

She nodded, too dumbfounded to speak. Intrigue was the main dish of daily fare at court. Guilds jockeyed among themselves for control of various natural resources. Kings jostled with one another in search of power, wealth, and expanding their borders. Alliances came and went at court like the ocean's tides.

But Maximillian stood above it all, the spider in the web, plucking and pulling at the strands, building new ones as needed. Cutting out the bad ones entirely, if need be. As long as none of the paeans threatened the stability of the overall web, he allowed them to play their little games among themselves.

But what Talissar hinted at ... outright insurrection ... was aimed at destroying not only the web, but also the spider.