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this madman."
    Mirabar heard Najdan reply, "When you report back to Tansen, do you really want these to be the circumstances in which you last saw the sirana? "
    Pyron groaned. "You just had to think of something that would be even worse than being here right now, didn't you?" 
    "You can leave in a few days," Najdan said tersely.
    Mirabar didn't take her gaze off Darshon, but nothing else seemed to be happening there. If this was a tantrum of Dar's, it evidently wasn't going to be a severe one. She shuddered, waiting for guidance, waiting for a sign. Had she been wrong about Baran, about Belitar, about her destiny? Had she misunderstood?
    Someone touched her sleeve. Mirabar jumped and turned to find Haydar looking at her with sympathy.
    "Who knows the ways of Dar, sirana? " Haydar said. "Perhaps She is... congratulating you on your marriage?"
    Mirabar gave the woman a shaky smile. "Thank you. I hope so."
    She glanced up at Darshon's tumultuous peak again and prayed that such was the case, because she wasn't turning back now.
    "Nyahhh!" Pyron's incoherent protest attracted her attention now. "I hate water magic! I just hate it."
    She followed his gaze and saw the evidence of Baran's formidable power as water gathered itself together from the lake and rose to form a shimmering bridge across its surface. Mirabar met her husband's gaze.
    "After you," he said with silky courtesy.
    She was the most powerful sorceress in all of Sileria and would not be intimidated by the second most powerful waterlord. She nodded graciously and proceeded across the slippery bridge without hesitation. 
    The others followed more cautiously, but everyone made it across the long, slightly wavering bridge and into the ancient castle. Four assassins, alerted in advance by Vinn, awaited them in front of the massive door of crystallized water. One of them pushed it open and escorted them all inside. 
    After entering the castle's gloomy interior, Mirabar said, "It's a little dark in here, don't you think?"
    She summoned the fire that lived in her veins, in her breath, in her soul. Feeling the heat rush to her palms, as commanded, she waved her arm and flung a ball of fire at the wall, where it settled itself and remained as a glowing torch. Not waiting for Baran to approve or object, she did this seven more times, until the shadowy great hall of Belitar was blazing with enchanted Guardian light. The shir of Baran's assassins were shivering wildly, she noticed with satisfaction.
    She smiled at Baran. "I won't make many changes, but a new wife has certain rights, doesn't she?"
    He looked amused. "My home is now our home, my dear. Do whatever you wish." He glanced at his uneasy assassins and added, "I'm sure my men will be stimulated by the changes."
    Vinn looked startled for a moment, then laughed. "Only you would do this, siran . Only you."
    The rest of the men started to relax and seemed to adopt Vinn's wryly resigned attitude. Well, Mirabar supposed that it took a certain kind of personality to serve Baran for years.
    Her husband started issuing instructions to his people on the housing and care of his bride and her various guests. Mirabar listened as he did so, but wandered away looking around her new home, wondering what mysteries would be revealed to her here.
    She knew already—knew the moment she crossed the threshold—that she had been right to come here, Dar's ill-timed explosion notwithstanding. Already, she could feel something here. Something... strong.
    Mirabar assumed that Baran wouldn't help her secure her position as mistress of his household, and that his servants and assassins would try to walk all over her if she didn't take immediate steps to establish herself. She knew nothing about running a home, let alone the strange domain of a waterlord, but she had learned by now how to take charge of people. It also helped, of course, that these people were rather afraid of her. 
    After examining her own bedchamber—separate from Baran's, she