13

.~~~.

Isro had to laugh at himself. It was the only thing he could do to stave off the overwhelming urge to call himself an idiot. He'd spent the entire trip to Fort Rayles fending off pointed questions he'd made up for himself, hating that most of his nagging doubts weren't unfounded. Yet in spite of that, he'd managed to walk himself so close to the Fort he could see the vine-covered battlements from the tree line. He stopped at the edge, just before he'd lose coverage from the forest and stashed his armor plating behind a bush. With his satchel over his shoulder, he scaled the tree with the thickest leaves he could find.

Isro wedged himself into the crook of the tree and fished his telescope out of his satchel, sneering at his own impetuousness.

How was he going to explain the situation to Captain Pinard, anyway? He'd already had enough trouble convincing him that this excursion was absolutely crucial to Chorrol's safety. Coming back with a known criminal in tow and not in chains?

That was not a conversation he looked forward to.

What he'd promised that bandit he would do was considered in some circles to be blatant, unrepentant treason to the Countess herself – punishable by either beheading or a life sentence in prison. Isro, in fact, considered himself to be somewhere in those circles.

Oh, but it would only get worse because that was where he'd have to acknowledge the next, arguably worse conversation he was ill-fated to have. If his hunch was correct, he was not only going to bear the news that a large-scale bandit raid was threatening Chorrol, he was going to have to reveal something much, much, worse.

Isro wiped the sweat from his brow. Goosebumps rippled across his skin.

Daedra.

The word sounded unnatural even in his thoughts as if aversion to them was instinctual. Aversion, but not fear. Not when he'd never dealt with one before. What he had dealt with more than once, though, were those who followed their activity like starved hounds. Every month or so, word of an isolated case of "Daedric Activity" would make its rounds across what seemed to be all of Cyrodiil – leaving bodies as evidence in its wake.

Isro knew it would only be a matter of time before there came a knock at every door in Chorrol.

Isro gripped his telescope tightly.

And the first person they'll investigate is you, he thought. Sis will be next. They'll keep going until they find something. They always do.

Isro sighed, pushing his worries back inside as held the telescope to his eye and squinted at the gaps between the battlements. It wouldn't be long before the sun would set. He stuck his free hand into his satchel again until his knuckles tapped the finger-sized vial inside. It was still there. Good.

Once he planned his route, Isro made himself comfortable in the tree and waited for darkness to fall.

When the stars were bright and the torchlight from the watchmen shining, Isro climbed down from the tree. He dropped his satchel and other free-hanging items next to his armor, keeping only the vial held between his fingers and his sword. He watched the orange glow of the lights as he moved out from the tree line and towards the wall. Isro flattened himself against it to buy himself a few moments to breathe.

Isro removed the cork from the vial and downed the whole potion in one gulp. He suppressed the urge to vomit it back up as it coated his throat in a rotten film. He didn't know much about alchemy, but Suleh made it a point to explain that anything potent always had a taste to match.

Isro held his hand up, blocking the tree from his view and stared at his palm until his skin tingled. It was slow at first – only a glossy sheen appearing in his palm – but soon the shadows of the trees began to reveal themselves. Then the trees themselves. Isro glanced at his feet and saw nothing but flattened grass below.

"Damned thing actually works," he muttered to himself, placing his hand over his forearm even though he could hardly see either of them anymore.

He skulked around the outside of the Fort, avoiding the crunchy leaves covering the ground, working his way towards the tiny gap he'd noticed through his telescope earlier. It didn't seem to be guarded, which meant the bandits likely hadn't found it yet. That'd make for a perfect entrance and exit as long as it wasn't a dead end. When he reached it, Isro sucked in his stomach and pushed himself into the crack. It was a tight fit as he moved sideways through the opening. For a moment he was afraid he'd just gotten himself stuck until morning.

Isro gritted his teeth and pushed harder until he was dislodged. He stumbled out of the crevasse, surrounded by walls on every side. A dead end after all.

Or perhaps…

He looked up. The stars and moons looked back. Isro leaped, his arms outstretched, and grabbed the ledge so he could pull himself upwards.

He bit his tongue to keep himself from groaning out loud when he was on his feet. Another dead end.

Isro settled for an exasperated sigh as he turned around and set his foot on the ledge, preparing to drop down again and try elsewhere when he noticed something. A vein of light peeked through a crack across from him where the floor once connected to the wall. Isro pushed himself against the wall and worked his way over to the tiny ledge, holding onto the jagged stone to keep himself from falling back into the pit.

Isro stuck his face to the wall and tried to angle himself well enough to see.

And see he did. There were two figures on the other side of the wall. One was sitting in a chair, a big Nord with limbs like tree trunks, his feet on the table. Another man paced back and forth in front of him. Isro put his ear to the crack and listened.

"You don't think…" the one pacing began.

"Enough!" the big Nord snapped, slamming his feet down on the ground. "You've been wringing your hands dry for the past hour! I wouldn't mind that so much if you'd just shut up for longer than a minute!"

"I'm only…"

"Worried, I know," the Nord said. "As if you haven't repeated that more times than you can probably count. But you know what can make you sick faster than anyone with a cough can? Worrying."

"But if you'd just listen…"

"And if all that worrying doesn't kill you," the Nord interrupted, "Then I will. Understand?"

"Look, all I'm saying is that we ought to kill the bastard and burn him before the rest of us catch it!" the worrywart said. "You saw how he changed after he got here. I've never seen something come up on someone like that."

The Nord sitting in the chair laughed. "Oh, so you really believe what he said, eh? That he's been cursed?"

Isro almost snorted in laughter. It had to be Thaum they were talking about. He didn't expect the elf would tell them so simply, not when he stood to gain nothing at the time. Maybe he was a fool. Still, Isro didn't have a clue if what Glodon told him about the merge was true or not so he kept his ear pressed firmly against the opening.

"I don't know is what I'm saying!" the worrywart said. "None of us do! And on the chance he was telling the truth, don't you think we ought to do something besides wait to see what happens?"

"Let me ask you something," the Nord said, "You and I have been working together for the past ten years. Have I ever led us wrong? Have any of our jobs gone wrong when I was in charge of them? Have we not expanded our numbers tenfold since I took over?"

"Well…"

"The answers you're looking for are no, no, and yes."

"But…"

"I'm not asking you and the boys for anything more than usual," the Nord said. "I'm not telling you to make the Emperor our jester or anything so lofty. All I'm asking is that you have a little faith in me."

"And if we start to get sick as well?" the other asked.

The chair the Nord was sitting in let out a creak of relief as he stood up. "We kill the pointy-eared bastard," he said without hesitation. "What else? And I'll send a few of the boys over to that cave the rest of 'em have been hiding in. Reunite 'em in –" The Nord paused and made a sound. Perhaps the inner workings of his mind sobbing for not being used in so long. "Wherever it is they go. Back to the trees or something, right?"

A disconcerting silence between the two followed.

"Any other questions?" the Nord said landing in his chair again with a thud.

"No, sir," the other man said and shuffled away.

Isro stepped back from the wall and stroked his chin. It hadn't amounted to much in the end, but he had proof that Thaum hadn't been eaten by wolves on the way to Fort Rayles. A wonderful bit of information, but nothing usable since he had no idea where they were actually holding the Bosmer.

Isro put his hand against the wall. Still translucent. For how long, though?

Isro gnawed on his tongue as it flopped around in his mouth. Damn it all. They'd said nothing of any raid. Nothing of any future plans besides Thaum's inevitable fate. Just useless worrying.

Maybe if he managed to take one of the watchmen, he could interrogate them in the woods and then –

No, that'd never work. He'd probably be caught by the others first.

Perhaps he could knock the wall in and surprise the boss on the other side.

Isro kicked the toe of his boot against the wall. Cracked, but otherwise solid. It was thicker than he was broad and wasn't going to yield to anything less than a fire blast. He ran his hands over his head, gritting his teeth. There weren't any other options. With a sigh, he dropped down to the ground again and made his way to the crevasse he'd wormed into before.

He froze when he heard rustling. Trickles of light peeked through the opening.

"I'm telling you," a voice said from the other side, "I heard something moving around down here when I passed by a few minutes ago. We should head in there and take a look."

"No, no, no," someone else said. "I'm not going in there first! No way in Oblivion will I be going in there! I'm not getting eaten by whatever it is on the other side."

"You don't have to go first! I'm just asking for a little bit of back up in case I need it. Can you do that?"

The other groaned loudly, barely covering the sound of steel being unsheathed. "Fine, if you'll stop whining. If I get bitten by something, I'm going to dunk you in the river."

Isro's stomach rolled over as they invaded the crevasse. Suleh had forced him to make a promise that he wouldn't do anything dangerous before they'd all left Chorrol. He knew he wasn't going to be able to meet that request anymore. He squeezed the handle of his blade and pushed himself into a corner, waiting until the man was fully inside.

Isro rammed his sword through the bandit's waist. He didn't even take the time to take note of his appearance. The bandit didn't make a sound on the way down. The other let out a shout and drew his sword.

I'm sorry, Sis.

.~~~.

Suleh held the corked bottle up to her eye, swishing it around until she figured the specks of ground-up Mandrake root were blended. When that didn't work quite as well as she'd hoped it would, she put her hand over the cork and began to shake it up and down, swishing her hips back and forth and humming the tune to "Springtime in Old Stros M'Kai."

"Once was a woman," Suleh sang as her hum grew too happy and turned into words, "As fair as an evening of springtime in old Stros M'kai."

She sashayed around her apothecary, humming and singing with the bottle in her hand. Over several years of brewing in silence, Suleh found that she wasn't fond of it. Admittedly far from a songbird as she may have been, anything was better than having her ears filled with sloshing for hours on end. As she neared the end of the tune, Suleh almost forgot the potion until it nearly escaped from her fingers and made a break for the nearest window.

It would've only been the second so far, but she couldn't go about wasting her ingredients. It was dreadfully moist outside. Most of all, she hated cleaning up a mess. Hated it almost as much as she hated that snooty bitch that owned the tavern down the way, in fact. That was why she'd put Ulpo to work once she became too invested in the brewing process to keep the apothecary from falling into disarray. He didn't seem to mind – his hands holding the stained rag tightly and feet stamping the ground in excitement whenever she looked his way – but she felt a bit sorry for him anyway. It was better than keeping him tucked away with her special potions, at least.

She absentmindedly giggled. Perhaps she should've shared one with him, come to think of it. Perhaps fixing his madness was that simple. Ysa was likely just too uptight to try it.

Suleh stopped dancing mid-swish. A famished thought sprinted across her mind, screeching a final time before it died. The table she'd left Ulpo sitting at had suddenly decided to seat a big, happy family of nothingness.

At least they were happy.

"Oh, damn," she said. Suleh bounded up the stairs, then back down again to set the potion on the table before she dropped it, then back to the stairs.

"Ulpo!" she called out, cupping her hands over her mouth. "Where did you go?"

"D'oh, my!" a tiny voice said from below, muffled by the distance between them, "Over here!"

Suleh stomped back down the stairs to find the voice. He must've been working some kind of magic, she guessed. Ysa did say he was a tricky little fellow.

"Come on out, Ulpo!" Suleh said as she looked behind the counter, finding only apothecary shelves of freshly brewed potions waiting for her with their reflective bodies looking so beautiful. "Ysa's going to kill me if I lose you!"

Ulpo popped up from underneath the table, his grin beaming at her. "Hello!"

Suleh jumped, a squeal jumping out of her mouth as well. "Don't scare me like that!" she snapped, rubbing her arms as a chill made her shiver. The only major job she'd been given, only seconds away from being mucked up. If she didn't count the potion brewing as a job, that is.

Ulpo continued to smile at her, the rest of his body hidden underneath the table. "D'oh, would you mind telling me where that silly girl has gone?"

"What silly girl?" Suleh asked.

"You know the one!" he said. "Oh, she and I are on an adventure to see the countryside! We ought to be going soon, but I can't seem to find her!"

Suleh sat cross-legged on the floor next to him. "Is that why you were down here?" she asked. "Were you looking for Ysa?"

Ulpo nodded hard enough that Suleh felt dizzy for him. "D'oh, she's always so serious!" he said. "So deadly serious, oh my. I thought I might find that other boy, too! I don't know where he's run off to but he might be looking for us!"

Suleh leaned back on her palms. "Find that other boy? What do you mean other – "

She drove her teeth into her bottom lip with a vengeance, wincing as she accidentally broke the skin. No need to spend time asking questions she already had answers to. "Say, Ulpo," she began, "How are you feeling?"

"It's almost time for my nap!" he said, "But I'll need my slippers first! That silly girl probably has them tucked away somewhere!"

Suleh scratched her neck. Now that she thought of it, he probably needed to sleep at some point. She didn't even know what time it was, actually. "Um, let me rephrase that. You aren't feeling ill, are you? You'd let me know if you were, wouldn't you?"

Ulpo shook his head. "I don't ever get sick!" he said with the utmost confidence. "I haven't gotten sick since I was a boy!"

Suleh pursed her lips and squinted her eyes at him. She had felt a worrisome tickling in the back of her throat when they'd gotten back to Chorrol earlier in the evening. It wasn't yet a cough, but she'd dealt with enough similar to it to know the difference between a trifle and a warning. If the curse-disease had enough time to start showing symptoms in her, it should have had plenty of time to do the same to him. In fact, she'd already sent two people in Chorrol home earlier with a potion for their lightheadedness just in case.

Why did he seem to shrug it off without any effort? Another spell, perhaps?

"Are you sure?" she pressed again.

Ulpo nodded once more.

That was likely the best answer she'd get from him, she guessed, but it didn't quash her skepticism. Suleh stood up, her head swimming, and took Ulpo's hand to help him up as well. "Well, I don't know where your slippers are," she said. "But I have a pretty comfy pair you can borrow for your nap. They're my favorite so don't ruin them!"

Ulpo's eyes drifted inward and focused on her, his cheeks being pushed up by his sunny smile.

The door to the apothecary swung open. One of Chorrol's guards-in-training, Luven, stood in the doorway, breathing hard and drenched in sweat.

"Something the matter?" Suleh asked as she ushered Ulpo away. She looked beyond him to see that the sun wasn't there. "It's rather late to be visiting me, but I suppose I could do worse as far as company is concerned."

"Isro!" Luven gasped. "He just got back! Has a bandit with him! They took them both to the garrison!"

Suleh leaned back and placed her elbows on the counter. "Good for him," she said. "He's always been a pretty dependable kid."

Luven shook his head. "No! He's hurt! I think he got in some sort of fight!"

Suleh dropped her head and sighed. That dummy. Always the overachiever. "Ulpo, keep an eye on things here for me," she said as she reached behind the counter and grabbed her satchel filled with alchemical supplies. "You don't have to open the door for anyone. Just make sure they don't try to break in and steal my things!"

Ulpo nodded vigorously and leaped onto the counter. A fearsome sneer twisted his face and he clapped his hands.

Good enough? Yes, that would be good enough. Hopefully, he would stay there and not leap out the window the moment she left. Suleh locked her arm with Luven's and flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Lead on, good sir! We've got places to be!"

Luven's eyes widened. "H-have you lost your damned," he said, gulping hard. "I mean, didn't you hear what I said? About your brother?"

"I heard you," Suleh said. "But you wouldn't let a woman like me walk all the way across town all by herself, would you? It's dark outside and there's a dangerous criminal now among us! What if he escaped? I could be in danger!" Suleh covered her mouth and gasped. "What kind of guard are you? No! What kind of man are you?"

Luven groaned and mumbled a curse as they started across town. "Fine, j-just don't draw a lot of attention to us. I don't want anyone getting any ideas."

"I wouldn't dream of it," she said, pressing herself against him.

Suleh was a bit disappointed that there weren't many people strolling around Chorrol. Disappointed, but not surprised, anyway. It was almost as if they preferred sleeping in the earliest hours of the morning instead of being awake, the bores.

Despite the lack of curious eyes, Luven's face still reddened to the deepest shade of crimson reserved for only apples and cherries by the time they reached the garrison. However, Suleh let him go before they entered. She'd heard something before about being a threat, but she couldn't recall the reason for such a reaction. Regardless, she did her best to behave as Luven brought her down to the holding cells where she assumed Isro was waiting.

Captain Pinard glanced at Suleh as she entered the room and rolled his eyes, saying something she couldn't quite hear. "You took too damn long, Luven," he said.

"Ah! It's been a while Cap'n!" Suleh said. "How's the wife?"

Pinard rolled his eyes again and crossed his arms. "Alright, Isro. Your sister's here. It's time you start explaining yourself before I toss you in with that bandit over there."

The heavy bags underneath Isro's bloodshot eyes seemed to deepen as he raised his head. "Where do you want me to start, sir?"

"Well," Pinard stroked his beard, rustling the specks of black and gray that comprised it. "You could start by telling me why on Nirn you went to Fort Rayles without any backup when you were supposed to be helping that woman find her jewelry in the woods," he said. "Or you could explain where the both of you ran off to, considering Suleh and that Dark Elf arrived earlier without either of you."

Isro's face hardened. "Sis didn't tell you anything?"

"Of course not," Pinard said. "She's damned useless in that regard."

"Hey, when I left, they hadn't split up!" Suleh said. "I'm in the dark, too!"

Isro exhaled slowly. His hand didn't move from the bloody bandages wrapped around his stomach. "Well, we found one of the elves that robbed her inside Silverbank Mine," he said. "He and the rest of their group had made the place their hideout. They were ill, so I sent Suleh back to town so she could brew potions for them."

"For bandits?" Pinard asked pointedly. "You were going to give them potions? What for?"

Isro winced. "I'll get to that," he said. "But the bandit I brought with me is the other elf we were looking for."

"And the other one you found in Silverbank?" Pinard asked. "Where's he at now?"

"Still with my friend, I hope," Isro said, gritting his teeth.

Pinard's brow lowered frighteningly.

"I didn't intend on leaving her with him," Isro said, "But what I thought was going to be a simple arrest and property retrieval became more complicated once we arrived at the mine."

"Enough to merit a trip to Rayles?"

Isro nodded. "I learned at Silverbank that the group of Bosmer that's been active along the Black Road planned to merge with the Rayles gang." Isro sighed and hunched over. "The one I brought with me corroborated the story, unfortunately," he said.

Pinard nodded, stroking his beard. "A merger isn't unheard of," he said. "It's rather common for a smaller group to absorbed by a larger one. Increases their chances of survival while ending any territory wars at the same time."

Isro raised to his feet and walked to the cage. He hooked his fingers on the bars and narrowed his eyes at the elf inside. "This one, Thaum is his name, gave me quite a bit of information when I freed him from their dungeon."

Captain Pinard did a double-take. "You went into the Fort?" he said. "What'd you do? Cut a path?"

A sly grin spread across Isro's face. "I used an invisibility potion to get down there," he said. "Smashed a few things along the way to make them think the Fort was haunted. They were too distracted to worry about the dungeon so by the time I got there, it was as simple as breaking the lock and carrying him out."

"That was a dumb move, son," Captian Pinard said, exhaling a breath. "Brave, but dumb. What if they would've saw him floating through the air? What then?"

Isro shrugged. "You have a point, but they didn't," he said. "I escaped from a window and made off into the woods before anyone noticed we were gone. Promised him I'd have Sis make a potion for that disease of his as payment for not screaming his head off, though." Isro turned and looked at Suleh. "You don't mind, do you?"

Suleh waved her hand opened her satchel. "I thought that was why I was here in the first place," she said, digging through the crumpled flower petals and smashed mushroom caps inside until she found the bottle inside. Only, it wasn't labeled. She uncorked the bottle and gave it a sniff. The inside of her nose burned. Definitely one for curing diseases. "Now, gentlemen! Throw open the gates! I've got a duty to uphold!" Suleh shouted as she strutted into the dank cage. A quick motion with her thumb popped the cork out of the bottle and onto the floor.

His eyes opened weakly and his lips parted as she held him in her arms. Suleh dumped the potion into his open gullet and tossed the bottle away.

Thaum shivered and smacked his tongue, probably trying to keep it down. When his face turned a shade greener than it had been, Suleh took that as an opportunity to bounce away to safety. She didn't want to spend the rest of the evening washing stains out of her clothes.

Thaum sat on the floor, curled up and gagging, but seemed to regain a bit of strength in only a few minutes. At last, he sat up and met the faces bearing down on him. "If I talk, you'll let me go, won't you?" he asked, his voice sounding like it was pulled to the point of breaking.

Pinard leaned against the bars and crossed one leg in front of the other. "Depends on what you have to say," he said. "At the moment, I'm still trying to decide if we ought to hand you over to the Headsman or not."

Thaum answered him with a cough. "I'm not a fool," he said. "And I know I'm not in any place to bargain so you can drop the 'tough captain' act. I'm either going to die from this damned curse or be dragged back to Rayles and killed there."

Pinard glanced over his shoulder, a bit of surprise on his face. "Why would you be dragged back there?"

"Because they're coming here," Thaum said, apparently unbothered. "That was the plan, anyway."

Pinard closed his fists around the bars and pushed his face in between them. "When?" he growled.

Thaum buried his face in his hands and shivered. "What's today?" he asked.

"Stop stalling!" Pinard shouted.

"I'm not!"

"Twenty-first of Hearthfire," Isro stated calmly.

When Suleh saw Thaum's face tighten into a grimace, her skin erupted into goosebumps.

"Then, unless something's changed in their plans, probably at sunrise," Thaum said.

Captain Pinard pushed off the bars. "Damn it!" he shouted. "How many of them?"

Thaum shook his head. "I don't have a number for sure. Seventy at the least but there can't be much more than one hundred at the most."

Pinard folded his bottom lip between his fingers. His pacing around the room and his muttered curses were enough to set Suleh on edge more than she already was. Through Isro, she'd been given a rough estimate of how many guards were in the city. With those kinds of numbers, the bandits from Fort Rayles could nearly match the garrison's size.

"Isro, Suleh, with me!" Pinard said with a snap. He led them both out of the holding cell room and into the corridor where he stopped.

"Should I tell the Countess?" Isro asked without prompt.

"No, son," Pinard said. "You've done plenty. I'll send someone else to the castle. Let your sister take you home so you can rest up. We'll be needing you when things come to a head. I'm going to see if I can't get anything else out of him in the meantime."

"But, sir, I can –"

"That's an order, Isro!" Pinard snapped.

Suleh watched Isro's mouth stretch into a perfectly straight line – his brow furrowing again. She put her arm around him, feeling his back sink as he accepted defeat.

"Actually, before you go, I've got another question," Pinard asked before they could leave the corridor. "You mentioned that you had a reason for leaving that woman in the forest. Why?"

Isro shrugged. "I'm sorry, sir, but…"

Pinard turned around. "Be honest with me," he said, "He's not just spouting nonsense, is he? It's related to this curse he mentioned, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid he's telling the truth, sir," Isro said.

Pinard's expression held some manner of tightly restrained worry. "And this curse? How does it show itself?"

"You just saw it," Isro said. "It looks like a plague, but it isn't one that can be cured. It spreads from person to person either through direct contact or through closeness and takes root in just a couple of days. From there, it doesn't take long to become debilitating."

Pinard's face fell. "Then anyone showing symptoms is living on borrowed time," he said. "All of us are. Why in Oblivion did you bring it here, then?"

Isro shook his head. "I didn't. It was already here," he said. "Sir, I know it sounds grim but we still have a chance to survive. We can stave off the symptoms with enough potions like we were planning on doing for those bandits at Silverbank. It's temporary, I know, but the woman I went with is a close friend of ours. She's going to find the witch that placed the curse and make her remove it."

"How do you know we can trust her?" Pinard asked.

Isro tensed against Suleh's hand as if he took offense to that. "If it weren't for her, Sis and I might've been trapped in Hammerfell during the rebellion against the Dominion," he said. "It's no exaggeration to say that I trust her with my life."

Pinard shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. "That much, huh?" he said, turning his back to them. "Placing the fate of the whole city in the hands of a woman I've never even spoken to. Must be losing my damned mind. I hope she knows how to bargain with witches as well as she knows how to flee Provinces, then."

Suleh tugged at Isro's arm, yet he still stood immobile – clenching and unclenching his fists.

"You're going to tell the Vigil of Stendarr about the curse, aren't you?" Isro asked, his voice a low rumble. "And if not you, the Countess will?"

Pinard shook his head, sighing as if he'd already accepted he'd been found out. "You know that I have to report this to her, son," he said. "It doesn't matter if the problem is solved by this friend of yours or not before anyone catches so much as the sniffles. I'd still be charged with treason if she ever found out I'd keeping secrets from her. What she does after that is beyond my control."

"Sir!" Isro snapped.

Pinard dropped his head low. "I'll do my best to put in a good word for you," he said. "Spin it in a way that maybe they'll pass you and Suleh over during the investigation. I'm sorry, but I've got my family to think about, as well."

Suleh could imagine the heat from Isro's glare. She wondered if Pinard could feel it.

"I'm sorry," Pinard mumbled. "I really am, but my hands are tied."

Isro gritted his teeth hard enough that Suleh's own hurt faintly. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her along behind him as he stormed out of the room. His hands were shaking. "It's not us I'm worried about, you old fool," he said under his breath, "It's her."