"Do you think I'm a traitor, Xanda Taranger?"

"No."

"Will you tell your aunt that?"

"I already have. On several occasions."

"It didn't get me out of jail."

"It stopped you from getting hanged, though," he pointed out with a smile. He was still leaning over her, still holding her down.

Don't get any ideas about my nephew, she heard Marla say, the thought echoing somewhere through her aching head. Then another voice emerged through the throbbing pain. She just tells you one thing, Rielle Tirstone's voice said, knowing full well you'll probably go and do the exact opposite.

The hell with you, Marla Wolfblade.

Convinced she had nothing left to lose, Luciena slid her arms around Xanda's neck and pulled him down to her. She kissed him, hungrily, desperately, and with little thought to the consequences. She didn't care. Not any more. Neither did Xanda, if the way he kissed her back was anything to judge by. He kissed her like there was no tomorrow, which made her want to cry, because for Luciena, there probably wasn't.

But if she was going to die, she was determined to have one moment of happiness before they took her away. They always give the condemned one last wish, don't they?

"Well, I see you two aren't wasting any time."

Xanda leapt off her in surprise as Luciena pushed herself up on her elbows to find Princess Marla and Wrayan Lightfinger standing at the foot of the bed. Her head was pounding and she could barely hear herself think for the rushing of blood through her ears. She cringed inwardly, waiting for Marla to explode with fury. By the look on Xanda's face, he was expecting the same thing.

But Marla didn't get angry. She didn't even seem annoyed.

"Please," she said coolly. "Don't let us interrupt you."

"Aunt Marla," Xanda began nervously. "It's not what it looked like . . . we weren't . . . I can explain . . ."

"I'm court'esa trained, Xanda, and have given birth to three children. I don't actually need an explanation." She turned her regal gaze on Luciena, frowning at her grubby shift. "You and I have a great deal to sort out, young lady. But I imagine you'll want to bathe before we talk. I'll have Orleon reassign your slave so she can assist you, shall I? Or perhaps," she added with a hint of amusement, "you'd rather have Xanda wash your back."

With that, the princess turned on her heel and left the room, Wrayan following in her wake.

Luciena stared after her and then looked at Xanda, who appeared thoroughly bemused. And then she heard Rielle's distant voice in her head again.

Just when you think you've finally managed to get one over on Marla Wolfblade, she could hear the young woman saying, you discover you've done exactly what she wanted all along.

Chapter 38.

Another summer almost done, Elezaar mused as he approached Marla's private sitting room in a strangely reflective mood. Another year gone. Another year in which Alija Eaglespike has not paid for her crimes.

Marla turned from the window as he opened the door. Her trunks were stacked in the corner waiting to be collected; the shelves were bare and only her small writing case remained unpacked.

"She's on her way," he announced, waddling into the room, closing the door behind him.

Taking a deep breath, the princess faced the door and braced herself for the inevitable confrontation with her daughter. Kalan had grown increasingly remote since the day she and her brothers had given their guards the slip in the marketplace. In fact, Kalan had barely had a civil word for her mother. Over the past few weeks, Elezaar had observed, their relationship had deteriorated to the point where mother and daughter were barely speaking.

The painful thing for Marla, the dwarf knew, was that she understood her daughter's dilemma.

She remembered what it felt like to be negotiated over like a piece of prime beef because of whose sister she was. At ten, Kalan could already see the writing on the wall. Despite her sharp mind (or perhaps because of it), she knew she was doomed to the future Marla had avoided by the bare skin of her teeth and there was nothing her mother could do to save her from it.

The real tragedy, however, in Elezaar's mind, was that Kalan's suggestion she should join the Sorcerers' Collective was a brilliant idea. So brilliant, in fact, Elezaar wondered why he'd never thought of suggesting such a thing himself. To have someone in such a position of power some day; a member of the family.

Someone who could challenge Alija.

The idea was so seductive, Elezaar found himself running various scenar ios through his mind, trying to come up with a way to achieve it. It wasn't easy. Marla already had Wrayan setting mind blocks on herself and her children to protect them. She'd relaxed her guard for a mere moment with the Mariner girl, and the next thing they knew, Luciena was attacking Damin. It had taken some very clever talking on Elezaar's part before the princess could even bring herself to contemplate the notion of placing Kalan, or any other member of the family in such danger, regardless of any eventual benefit.

Not everything his mistress had set in motion was proving so trying, though. Starros was dealing well with the extra lessons Elezaar had set for him, reinforcing his opinion the boy would make an excellent seneschal some day. Ruxton had found a new tutor for the children, a former court'esa once belonging to the late Lady Jeryma at some time in the distant past. He was an old man now but reputedly had a mind as sharp as that of his charges and would brook no nonsense from them. The man was due to arrive in the next few days to take over the burden of the remaining children's lessons.

Elezaar was mightily relieved. He had feared all summer long that he would be left behind when Marla returned to Greenharbour.

Rielle and Darvad had left the city, escorted back to Izcomdar by Rogan Bearbow and his entourage. Damin would follow in a few days, leaving Krakandar with Marla and Ruxton. They would return to the capital via Rogan's stronghold at Natalandar, see Damin safely settled in his fosterage, and then continue south, arriving in Greenharbour just before the Feast of Zegarnald in the autumn.

But that still left the problem of what to do with Kalan . . .

A knock on the door distracted Elezaar. Marla called permission to enter. Kalan stepped into the study wearing her accustomed scowl. He had seen little else in the way of expression on Marla's daughter's face over the past two months.

"Mother," Kalan said, stopping before the princess with a barely respectful curtsey. She ignored Elezaar.

"Kalan."

"Your slave said you wanted to see me." That was her way of letting Elezaar know she still hadn't forgiven him for telling her mother about their discussion.

Marla ignored her daughter's scathing tone. "I have come to a decision about your future, Kalan.

As I'm leaving tomorrow, I thought you might like to know what it is."

The girl straightened her shoulders defiantly. "I will kill myself before I marry some sleazy old man just to seal a stupid treaty!"

Elezaar bit back a smile. She was a feisty little thing, this daughter of Marla's.

"Actually, I was hoping you'd come back to Greenharbour with me."

Kalan stared at her mother suspiciously. "Why?"

"Wrayan tells me the process of acceptance into the Sorcerers' Collective is quite laborious under normal circumstances. It will be much easier if you're in the city while we go through the formalities."

Kalan's head jerked up. "Wrayan said that?"

"I can't imagine why anybody would want to join the Sorcerers' Collective, mind you," Wrayan said behind her, appearing out of thin air.

His sudden appearance made even Elezaar jump and he'd known all along that Wrayan was there. He just hadn't seen him pull that rather impressive disappearing act.

Her scowl forgotten, Kalan squealed with glee and threw herself at the thief. "Wrayan! You're back!"

Wrayan hugged the child briefly and then pushed her away, aware that Marla thought her daughter's crush on him was a little misplaced.

"Yes, he's back," Marla said. "And you just walked straight past him, Kalan, without even knowing he was there. Do you understand that?"

"But Wrayan's a sorcerer! He did something so I couldn't see him."

"This is precisely the point I have been trying to make for the past two months. Alija Eaglespike is also a magician," Marla warned. "And you are not. You would have no defence against her. You must understand that, and I'm going to need to be convinced that you are fully aware of the danger before I let you anywhere near the Sorcerers' Collective."

"But that's not . . ." She hesitated and looked at her mother. "What do you mean, before you let me anywhere near the Sorcerers' Collective? You're going to let me join?"

"I'm thinking about it."

Kalan stared at them in confusion. "What changed your mind? You said you'd never agree."

"The arrival of Luciena's cousin has changed matters somewhat."

"You mean Rory?"

"He'll be joining the Sorcerers' Collective when you get to Greenharbour," Wrayan explained.

"With someone in the Sorcerers' Collective your mother can trust-and, more importantly, someone Alija can't influence-the danger to you might be a little more . . . manageable."

"So he wasn't pulling my leg then?" she asked Wrayan. "He really can wield proper magic?"

Wrayan smiled. "Yes, he can wield proper magic."

"Wow," the girl replied, suitably impressed.

Marla wasn't nearly so enthusiastic as her daughter. "Don't get too excited, Kalan. Despite both Elezaar and Wrayan championing your cause, I'm far from convinced this is a good idea. There are certain negotiations that have to take place before you're accepted into the Sorcerers' Collective, too,"

her mother explained. "I imagine, at the very least, it's going to cost me a new temple in the grounds of the Sorcerers' Palace.

"On the bright side, along with my patronage-and the fact that you are the High Prince's niece-comes the ability to dictate a few conditions about your apprenticeship. I plan to ask Bruno Sanval to take on Rorin's apprenticeship, which should keep him out of Alija's way. But if I allow you to follow him-and it's a very big if-it will be on the express condition that you and Rorin are never separated."

"Why not?"

"Rorin can maintain a link with you that will tell him if something happens to you," Wrayan explained. "Don't ask me how-it's a magical thing and you wouldn't understand."

"Really? " Kalan gasped. She looked set to burst something vital. "Do you really mean this, Mama?"

Marla held up her hand to dampen her daughter's enthusiasm. "Understand, Kalan, once I've done this, you're on your own. If you fail, young lady, you won't have to worry about what Alija might do to you, because I will send you back here to Krakandar and marry you off to the scabbiest, most disgusting old man I can find, just so you can prove your continuing loyalty to your family."

Kalan grinned broadly, the first genuine sign of happiness Elezaar had seen in the girl for months. "I won't fail, Mama. I'll be High Arrion some day. Just watch me."

Marla glanced at Wrayan with a shake of her head, obviously wondering what she had unleashed.

"May the gods help the Sorcerers' Collective the day that happens," Wrayan chuckled.

"May the gods help us all, Wrayan," Marla replied, rolling her eyes. "I have a bad feeling we're going to need it. Elezaar, would you have some tea brought in?"

"Of course, my lady."

"If you're being so nice to Luciena's cousin, does that mean you're not going to hang her as a spy, after all?" Kalan said, looking at her mother curiously.

Elezaar hesitated on the threshold, wondering how Marla would reply.

The princess shook her head. "As it turns out, Luciena was an innocent pawn in a game she didn't even know she was playing. And you should never forget what happened to her, Kalan. If you drop your guard for a moment in Greenharbour, the same thing could easily happen to you."

Elezaar didn't hear the rest of the conversation. He smiled to himself and let the door shut behind him, thinking that of all the delicious punishments he could have unleashed on Alija Eaglespike, the most harrowing might yet prove to be Kalan Hawksword.

"Elezaar!"

The dwarf turned, a little surprised to find Ruxton Tirstone hailing him. "Are you looking for the princess, sir? She's in her sitting room with Master Lightfinger and Kalan."

Ruxton rolled his eyes. "There's a plan afoot I'll bet I want no part of. However, I wasn't looking for Marla. I was looking for you."

"Did you want something, sir?"

"It's more about what I can do for you, actually." The trader glanced up the hall, taking Elezaar by the elbow gently. He moved away from the door to ensure they were alone before he continued. "Do you remember telling me about your brother?"

Elezaar frowned, wishing he had never mentioned the subject. But he'd always enjoyed a cordial relationship with Marla's fourth husband. They had shared many a cup of ale in the kitchens late at night when the rest of the household was asleep. Although he'd never been a slave, Ruxton had a lot more in common with Elezaar, in fact, than with his royal wife. It was during one of those late-night ales that, in a rare burst of inexplicable sentimentality, Elezaar had told Ruxton about Crysander.

"My brother is dead, Master Tirstone."

"Perhaps," the spice trader agreed cautiously.

Elezaar's eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

"Just that I've heard a rumour or two. Nothing substantial, mind you. But it might be worth investigating. If you wanted me to look into it, that is?"

For a moment, the hall of Krakandar Palace faded, replaced by the stark black-and-white tiles of Ronan Dell's house. The captain's blade-Alija Eagle-spike's captain-plunging into Crys without warning . . . the man driving his dagger up under Crys's rib cage and into his heart . . . Crys falling . . . the creak of leather as the captain bends over to check Crys is really dead . . .

Elezaar shook his head to clear the haunting nightmare. "My brother is dead, Master Tirstone. I thank you for your concern, but I'd appreciate it if you'd just let the matter drop. And that you mention it to nobody."

"As you wish," Ruxton replied. "I just thought-"

"Only pain lies down the road of false hope," Elezaar shrugged. "Crysander is dead and I am taking steps to ensure the person responsible will pay."

"Are you certain you don't want my help?"

"Certain, Master Tirstone."

The trader shrugged, as if he couldn't figure out Elezaar's reasoning, and turned back in the direction he'd come.

Elezaar continued towards the stairs to get Marla's tea, thinking Ruxton just didn't understand.