"Doesn't he have to answer to the High Council? He isn't King yet, after all."

Sian Aresh shook his head. "Not in a situation like this. This is an emergency, a crisis. No one is going to object. People are frightened. First the demon breakout and the attack on Arishaig, and now the King is dead. Phaedon has taken advantage of this to claim the throne and to demonstrate his ability to lead by example. Unfortunately for Ellich, his example is not well considered."

"Should you be talking to me about this?" she asked him.

"I shouldn't be talking to you at all. I should be hauling you off to join Ellich. Phaedon has decided this is a Federation plot to subjugate the Elves and that you are a part of it. Your insistence on marching the Elven army to Arishaig's aid is evidence of your complicity."

"But first I decide to murder the King?" She almost laughed. "That makes no sense at all."

"Not much of anything makes sense at the moment, which is why I am here. I am supposed to arrest you and bring you before the Prince to answer the charges, and afterward I am to lock you up until he decides what to do with you." He paused. "That could be a very long time."

"Maybe until it is too late to do anything about it?"

He nodded. "Of course, in order for me to do this, I have to find you, and so far I haven't been able to do so. If you were to leave right now, I imagine I would have a great deal of difficulty tracking you down."

"But that would suggest I am guilty of something," she snapped. "I should stay and defend myself."

Aresh shook his head. "I don't think the rules of fair play are going to apply in this situation. Phaedon has waited a long time to be King; he is intent on elevating his stature in the eyes of the Elves. Bringing those involved in the death of his father to justice would be a good start."

"And few would be troubled if one of those judged guilty was a Druid," she finished. "But his own brother? Why would anyone believe Ellich would do such a thing?"

"Phaedon will come up with a reason and find a way to make others believe it. He is good at that sort of thing. I've watched him at work in the High Council for years. He is an accomplished manipulator."

He stood up abruptly. "We've already talked for too long. You have to go now. Find Crace Coram, get down to the airfield before the search for you begins in earnest, and steal one of the smaller airships. Do it quickly."

Seersha rose, shaking her head. "I don't like this. It feels wrong."

Aresh walked from the bedroom to the living quarters and peered out the window. Already, dawn had begun to lighten the eastern sky in a wash of silver and rose.

"Away from here, maybe you can do something useful. If nothing else, maybe you can warn Aphenglow of what's happened. Phaedon has no use for her, either."

Seersha was appalled. "He wouldn't do anything to her. Arling wouldn't stand for it, and she carries the Ellcrys seed! Without that, we are all as good as dead. Even Phaedon must know that."

"Is there a back door?" he asked.

She turned away abruptly and strode through the house to the rear entry. "I'll find her and warn her," she said.

"Do so quickly." He peered through the window and then opened the door. "Don't assume anything about Phaedon and what he might or might not do. That is still unexplored country."

She started outside and then turned back. "What will you do, Sian?"

He smiled sadly. "Whatever I can. Good-bye, Seersha."

Then he slipped past her and was gone.

Seersha dressed at once, did what she could to tamp down her fever, shook off her lethargy, and slipped from her cottage into the new day. She went quickly from there to where Crace Coram was staying in a block of old barracks at the edge of the airfield. By his own request, he had kept himself out of the city proper, preferring woodland surroundings to clustered buildings. He was more mountain man than city dweller in spite of his designation as Chieftain of his village, and he could not come to terms with being settled in the midst of so many people-even Elves, whom he held in high regard.

But she did not find him in the quarters assigned to him. Nor were any of his belongings there. Everything seemed to have been cleared out, as if he had already moved on. She was immediately worried that something had happened to him, and that she was already too late to save him from Phaedon. Even though Sian Aresh hadn't said anything about him being in danger, she couldn't assume he wasn't.

She hurried from there to the practice field, aware that by now they might be looking for her and that she was risking her freedom by showing herself so boldly. But when she got to the field, she found Crace Coram sparring with one of the Home Guards while the rest stood watching and waiting for their turns. She took a quick look around to see if there any indication of a trap, but found nothing.

Taking a deep breath, she walked right up to the Dwarf Chieftain, calling his name. "Crace! Leave off. We have to go."

He backed away from his opponent, his bluff features nonplussed. "Go where?"

"I'll tell you on the way, but you have to come right now."

He didn't seem inclined to do that, so she made a hand gesture familiar to Dwarves everywhere, one that warned him he was being stupid or worse. He gave her a surprised look, read the expression on her face, and finally realized something was wrong. He put down his weapons, stripped off his protective gear, and came over.

"I'll be back soon, so be ready!" he shouted over his shoulder at the Home Guards, who returned his challenge with hoots and jeers.

When they were far enough away, Seersha, leading him toward the airfield, said quietly, "Where are your clothes? They weren't in your room."

"I threw them out. They were in tatters. I'm wearing what's left. Now what's going on?"

Quickly, she summarized what Sian Aresh had told her, ending by saying they had to assume both of them were already being hunted, so they needed to get clear of Arborlon.

"On an airship?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her. "I don't know anything about flying airships. Can't we just ride horses?"

She shook her head. "Too slow. We have to get away quickly. I think you need to return to the Dwarves and warn them about what's coming. They might already know, but we should make certain. The tribes need to form an army that can stand with the Elves if the demons come north from Arishaig."

"Stand with the Elves? What chance is there of that happening with that madman as King?" Corum Crace snorted in disgust. "The Dwarves will go their own way."

She gave him a hard look. "Let's see how things play out. Whatever the choices given us, we'd better be ready to pick one." She paused. "You know what we'll be up against."

"All too well." He pointed ahead. "Which vessel do you intend to steal?"

She peered across the field, which had just come into view, searching for a likely candidate. At first, she didn't see anything that looked manageable. The big warships were out of the question, and even skiffs the size of the Wend-A-Way were easier to handle when there was more than one person to fly them.

Then she caught sight of something that made her smile. A worn but serviceable two-man flit set off to one side was marked with signs that said it was available for private hire. She gave a quick glance around, but saw no signs of Elven Hunters prowling the field or its perimeters. Work crews scurried about the larger warships, but mostly the airfield was empty.

"Come on," she said to her companion and moved quickly toward the two-man.

"That scow?" Coram demanded. "It doesn't look like it can get off the ground!"

She grinned at his dismay. "It's clearly done so many times before. I think it can manage a few more." She slapped him on his arm. "Let me do the bargaining."

A whip-thin Elf was seated nearby, studying an array of maps as the Dwarves came up to him. He looked up, clearly interested. "You want to rent her, maybe?" He gestured at the two-man. "How long?"

Seersha pretended to study the craft. "Is she capable? Does she handle well?"

The man made a face. "Well enough for you. Do you even know how to fly her?"

"I know a little."

"Good enough. A little is all she requires. A sound craft in spite of how she looks. Reliable. She's in her retirement years, but she knows the way."

"A week," Seersha said. "How much?"