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edges—though the man who vomited in a bucket that had been used to bring him beer did wipe his mouth on his sleeve with elan. To the prince’s eye they seemed quite normal, with men predominant, a few Vorquelves like Resolute, and two urZrethi women huddled nearest the fire. They had shifted the shape of their faces to make themselves purely hideous, which stopped advances by anyone on the upright side of blind drunkenness.
    “I don’t see the threat here.”
    “You will, once word is out. It will ooze from the confidential councils.” Resolute’s voice remained low. “The first news will be almost happenstance, reporting our arrival and the lack of our friend’s presence. I have little doubt the crowns will decide to say he’s remained on Vael. Soon enough, though, a chance remark will be overheard, or someone will decide his path to power benefits from the revelation of the death. When word gets out, hope will die for these people. Some will rally to fight, some will lose all heart, and others will be angry. Their fury will be directed against you and Crow, even Princess Alexia and me.” Erlestoke started to deny that vision, then looked at the various faces around the room again. Many were happy, laughing and almost carefree, but others were wary and watchful. Some were even nervous. The same nervousness could spark a fight because of a chance remark, or an innocent bump. The death of the Norrington could be the sort of provocation that might motivate a crowd to act
    with violent intent.
    “Again, I bow to your wisdom.” Erlestoke sipped ale to wash the sour taste

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    from his mouth. “So, you’ve come here to watch men and gauge their temperament?”
    “No, that is merely a pastime.” The Vorquelf looked up and his eyes brightened. “I came for quarry and here it is.”
    Before he’d finished speaking, Resolute was up and out of his chair. He slipped behind another figure, one almost as tall as he, wearing a dark cloak. Though Resolute crowded in tight behind the person, Erlestoke did catch the flash of a dagger pressed to the back of the cloak.Right over where the kidney would be on a man.
    The cloaked figure bowed his head, then turned and joined them at the table. Resolute snapped something in Elvish and the other Vorquelf male, with long black hair and bright blue eyes, took a chair that left his back open to the rest of the common room.
    Resolute sat again and smiled coldly. “You recall I said everyone had agents here?”
    “I do.”
    “Well, this one belongs to General Markus Adrogans.” The Vorquelf’s silver eyes sharpened. “I’ve been waiting for him, because we need to have a good long chat.”
    T7“ ing Scrainwood had found the conversation with his son utterly dissatisfac-li tory. He realized that the chances of his son’s turning the secret of firedirtWover to him had been slender, but to learn that he did not even possess it had been a vast disappointment. Scrainwood could not discount the idea that Chytrine would eventually betray him, despite her having made him asullanciri. He would have done the same thing in her place, so he had to plan against that eventuality. His possessing the secret of firedirt would have given her pause and would have also given him the power to hold Erlestoke at bay. Now those chances for survival had been squandered by a son who had better things to do than to learn the greatest military secret in the world.
    As he wandered in the suite of rooms on the estate he had borrowed from the Oriosan merchant Playfair, Scrainwood entertained no illusions about Chytrine’s treachery. He’d seen for himself what she had caused to be done to the Azure Spider. The man who had once been a legendary thief, and had actually stolen a fragment of the DragonCrown from Jerana, had been transformed into an arach-nomorph. She’d done it to punish him for losing that same fragment to Princess Alexia and her coterie. The Azure Spider had been made into asullanciriand had died a parody of what he had once