CHAPTER FIVE

by Saché8

Haman pressed his fingertips together as he regarded his accomplice levelly. "I don't see what you're so upset about," he said.

The merchant stood up from his seat and began pacing the room furiously. "The plan is already failing!" he said with anger. "Both the duke and his great-niece were supposed to die. It does us no good to have her in his place. She's just as stubborn and just as strong. She practically ran the country when the Duke was indisposed after the heart attack."

Haman concentrated to keep his exasperation out of his tone. "Yes, it's very true. However, if you seriously agreed to this plan without foreseeing the need for flexibility at some point, then I suggest you learn from this example."

The merchant sat down again with a defeated sigh. "So, what do we do now?"

"I would still like to be rid of Lady Sandrilene," Haman said, rising from his seat and studying the map of Emelan on his wall. "Eventually. It is true that circumstances are more difficult now, but that is not to say they are unmanageable."

He lifted a well-manicured hand and began browsing the spines of the volumes in his bookcase. "Right now," he continued, "the Duchess does not find herself in the most desirable of circumstances. Within three days she's lost her uncle, and had the burden of responsibility suddenly thrust upon her. Then one of her closest friends is accused of the murder, and to top it all off, she has a major economic crisis on her hands."

"Obviously," said the merchant with disdain, "but remember that we are the source of the economic conflict. It's all very well for you, Haman. You have no reason to merit her attention. The merchants, on the other hand, will be constantly in her thoughts, and she's just as hard-nosed and foolhardy as her uncle." His ruddy face was flushed with unease as he spoke.

"Did you know…" commented Haman, overlooking this remark and finally pulling the book he'd been looking for off the shelf, "that if a ruler of Emelan is found guilty of any sort of crime, that he or she may be immediately stripped of title? The power then immediately passes to the successor."

The merchant's eyes darted and he sat up a little straighter. "Sandrilene has no successor."

"Indeed," agreed Haman. "As we have already determined. Which means that our plan would proceed along similar lines. The regency would fall to Count Farinte, who is well under my influence. And soon Emelan would be, for all intents and purposes, under our direct control."

The merchant was sitting up very straight now. "And just what is this crime we're to accuse her of?"

Haman smirked. "Why, conspiracy to kill the Duke of Emelan of course. Why else do you think her good friend Briar Moss would have been convinced to do it?"

:-:-:

Paloma's first impressions of Mistress Yazmin's Dance Academy were turning out to be very odd.

It was the afternoon following the murder trial. She stood at the bottom of the staircase in the hallway, feeling a little lost and wondering if she should venture in search of someone. Her bag, packed with her few and precious belongings, rested at her feet.

The silence in the air was thick and heavy. There didn't seem to be anyone about, which was strange, because surely a dancing studio would have classes going on. She knew that Yazmin's students were famous for their skill, but they couldn't dance that quietly.

With a sigh, Paloma walked over to the stairs and sat on the bottom few, taking her bag with her. She settled in to wait, entertaining herself for a little while by fiddling with the ties on the bag, bored out of her mind.

Hadn't they remembered she was coming? She didn't like to be arrogant in her own regard, but her referral had been by Master Haman. He was not a man to be ignored in any situation.

After about fifteen minutes that felt like two hours, Paloma sighed again and got to her feet, determined to seek someone out and figure out where she was supposed to be.

She was heading for the nearest doorway when, at long last, someone else finally showed up. He did not come in from another part of the building however. He came in the way Paloma had. Through the front door. And very noisily too.

He was about her own age, she guessed. Twelve or thirteen. He was neither too tall nor too short, with a wiry build and dark brown hair. The door latch clattered loudly as he came in, and he slammed the door shut behind him with a thud.

He seemed lost in thought when he first came in, but stopped short when he saw Paloma standing uncertainly by the stairs.

"Who are you?" he queried quite confidently.

She raised her chin proudly. "Paloma Nahar," she replied. "I've come to study here, as a boarding student. Who are you?"

"Um…," said the boy. His eyes were darting around the hallway as if he were looking for someone. His eyes flashed briefly back to Paloma. "Pasco Acalon," he said quickly, then resumed his sweeping search of the room.

Paloma's heart leapt with triumphant excitement. What a lucky break! How lucky that Pasco should be the very first person she encountered here!

Pasco, however, did not seem in a very sociable mood. Apparently satisfied that whatever he was seeking was not to be found in the hallway, he began bounding past her up the stairs. "Nice to meet you," he said civilly as he swept by.

"Wait!" she cried, picking up her bag to follow him. "Can you please help me? I've been waiting half an hour, and no one seems to have been expecting me."

Pasco stopped and turned around to study her more closely. "Then why didn't you just go find someone?" he asked, slightly mystified.

She blanched a little. "Well…" she began, "that would have been rude. I am a stranger here, after all."

Pasco seemed to consider this statement for a moment. "Hmmn," he said thoughtfully. "It really wouldn't have made a difference; no one cares about that sort of thing here. Then again," he added with a roll of his eyes, "my mother would probably agree with you."

Paloma managed a weak smile, although she was a little too put off by his rudeness to be truly amused.

Pasco sighed, came back down the stairs, and took her bag from her hand. "Come on," he said, with a jerk of his head. "We'll go find someone to get you straightened out."

She nodded her thanks and said nothing.

"You know, it's just your bad luck that today was your first day," he said. "Normally this place is full of people, but for the last couple days it's been pretty quiet, what with the murder and all."

Paloma made absolutely certain her voice would not betray her before she spoke. "The Duke's murder?" she prompted.

Pasco's face darkened slightly. "Yeah," he growled. "Yazmin was very close to the Duke. They kind of…" he threw her sidelong glance and put on a meaningful expression, "well…you know." He nodded emphatically.

Paloma raised her eyebrows slightly. She also could not prevent the corners of her mouth from twitching a little in amusement. "Ah," she replied knowingly. "I see."

Pasco seemed relieved that he did not have to go into further detail on such an embarrassing subject.

"She canceled all classes this week," Pasco continued. "She's very upset." His face grew dark and his free hand clenched involuntarily. "I swear," he growled, "I could just…"

"Just?" Paloma repeated innocently.

He shook his head. "Nevermind. But the sentencing of the murderer is this afternoon. It's probably going on right now, actually."

Paloma knew that Mage Briar's sentencing would be as quick and rushed as his trial had been. Her master would make sure of that.

They'd reached the first landing. Pasco walked into the first and nearest doorway, on the right side of the long hallway.

The room was obviously an office of some sort. There was a reception area, very nicely designed and comfortable looking. A door to another room was at the far end, and slightly ajar.

"Mrs. Risset!" Pasco called towards the door. He set Paloma's bag on a nearby end table.

They waited a moment, and then Pasco glanced at Paloma, rolling his eyes. "She can't hear very well," he said. "Probably why she didn't hear the door when you came."

"MRS. RISSET!" he shouted, much louder. He headed for the doorway.

When he was halfway there, an incredibly skinny old lady came out of the other room. Her face broke into a smile when she saw Pasco. "Master Acalon!" she said. "What a pleasant surprise! I wasn't expecting you today."

"Sandry told me to come here," he said. "Don't ask me why. She knows I have a home." He laughed. "I guess she is rather distracted. Still, can't disobey executive orders, can you?" He winked kindly at Mrs. Risset.

"Well, my dear, I must say I'm glad you came. It's been mighty lonesome around here these past few days."

"You'll be glad then," said Pasco, "to hear that I've found you even more company." He turned and gestured to Paloma, standing behind him. "This is…" he trailed off, obviously trying to remember her name.

"Paloma," she supplied for him.

"Right. Paloma," he repeated. "She said she was expected. Gonna be a new boarder."

"Oh my good gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Risset, putting her hands on either side of her shocked face. "I forgot all about that! I read Master Haman's letter and it got lost in the shuffle. You poor child!"

"Well!" said Pasco satisfactorily, "Mrs. Risset can take it from here, Paloma. I'm going to go see Yazmin. Tell her what's going on at the palace. I'd wager Sandry might think to come visit her if she stops worrying about that friend of hers." He spat out the word 'friend' like it had a foul taste.

And then he was gone, leaving a kind but very flighty Mrs. Risset to oversee a very bewildered Paloma.

:-:-:

Evvy managed to get outside Winding Circle easily enough. True, there were sentinels at the gates, but they were more concerned with who was trying to get in than with who was leaving.

It was when she got to the road outside that she faced a dilemma. Which way to wherever Briar was? She supposed she should ask someone, but she wanted to be farther away from the temple before she did so. So she headed down the main road in the opposite direction from the one they had arrived in two days ago. The traffic seemed to favor this direction anyway.

After a little while, the kitten in her pocket began to get restless, so she pulled him out and let him walk alongside her on the road. She entertained herself by watching him play, even though it slowed her progress. It took her mind off of the growing pang of hunger in her stomach, because she foolishly realized too late that she had forgotten to bring along provision for this little foray.

The lack of food wasn't her only concern. The farther she walked, the longer the evening shadows grew. What would she do if she couldn't find the city by nightfall?

Eventually she decided she'd better go ahead and ask someone if she was going the right way. If she wasn't… well, she'd decide how to cross that bridge when she came to it.

At that moment she realized she'd lost sight of Moss. With a sigh, she stepped off the road into the underbrush, calling his name and berating herself for losing him. He was too much like his namesake to be neglected for long.

Eventually she identified the sounds of mewling kitten distress and followed them to find Moss stuck between two branches of a small tree, and unable to wriggle free. Sighing, she reached up and plucked him from his prison.

"You silly boy," she said, scolding. "Don't you know that trees are for birds?"

All the play seemed gone from Moss now. He was purring furiously, and was starting to show signs of sleepiness again. She put pocketed him and headed back for the road.

When she reached it, she noted two figures on horseback approaching in the same direction she had been headed before her slight detour. One was a tall, strong, dark-skinned man with a bald head and a full beard. The other was a stocky dark-skinned girl wearing leather breeches and a cotton tunic. Her hair was separated into many small black braids.

Still half-hidden in the shadows of the road, Evvy picked up pieces of their conversation.

"…absolutely incredible," the tall man was saying. "Not to mention ludicrous."

"I know," said the girl. "Briar would never do such a thing. I have to wonder what's going on."

Evvy jerked at the sound of Briar's name and regarded the couple more carefully. She narrowed her eyes, and strained to catch every word.

The tall man let out a sigh of frustration. "Of course, this would happen as soon as we get home," he grumbled. "Can't have a peaceful, relaxing recuperation period, oh no."

The girl let out a sympathetic laugh, but it was half-hearted at best. She was clearly preoccupied. The pair fell into an uneasy silence. Just after they passed her by, Evvy remembered her resolve to figure out where she was going.

Evvy took a deep breath, then stepped fully into view. "Excuse me!" she called out.

The horses came to an easy stop, and the riders turned around to find her.

"Hello," said the tall man kindly. He smiled, revealing a row of large, sparkling white teeth.

This made Evvy feel a little easier. "I'm trying to get to the Duke's Citadel," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. "Is this the right road?"

"Not only is it the right road, but it is also the right direction," he replied with a wink. "But what I should like to know is why a little waif like you is looking to go to the Duke's Citadel in the first place."

Evvy got angry. "That's not your business," she said indignantly. She crossed her arms.

He laughed. "Very well then. But you'd better have a good reason, otherwise the Duke's guard won't let you in."

Evvy pursed her lips and glared. "That just shows what you know," she said haughtily. "There are no more Duke's guards. There is no more Duke. He's dead."

The tall man's smile faltered a little and his face became sad and thoughtful. "Yes, you're right. I guess we should say the Duchess's citadel and the Duchess's guards now, eh?"

Evvy shuffled her feet and did not reply.

"It just so happens," said the tall man, "that we were on our way to the Citadel ourselves. We are friends to the Duchess and if we like you enough, maybe we can help you get there more easily. But you'll have to tell us more about yourself."

Evvy hesitated. "Who are you? How are you friends with Pahan Sandry?"

At this, the pair exchanged surprised glances.

"There aren't many people who call her that whom I do not also know," said the girl, finally speaking up. "But much has likely changed in my absence." She regarded Evvy thoughtfully for a moment, then with fluid grace dismounted from her mare.

She pulled a trader's staff from the saddlebag it was nestled alongside, and walked up to Evvy. With a slight bow, she held the staff across her chest. "Daja Kisubo," she said. "Smith-mage and trader. This is my teacher and friend, Dedicate Frostpine of Winding Circle. We have just returned from a long journey…" she trailed off when she noted the shocked look that had overcome Evvy's features.

"That's why you were talking about Briar!" Evvy exclaimed. "You're his friend Daja! I've heard all about you!"

She smiled and extended an eager hand. "Evumeimei Dingzai. Stone-mage. Well, stone-mage-in-training, I guess. You can call me Evvy. I'm…"

"…Briar's student," finished Daja with a smile. Then she laughed and looked up at Frostpine. "Well that explains plenty," she said with a wink at him.

Frostpine too began laughing, quite heartily.

:-:-:

At the end of a very stressful day, Sandry found relief in the stables. Here at least was a place where the room's occupants did not watch and criticize every move she made.

Vedris's stallion, a tall glossy black creature, whinnied enthusiastically when he saw Sandry come through the door. With a sigh and a sad smile, she headed towards him, taking a sugar cube from the collection in her pocket that she'd pilfered from her tea tray that afternoon.

"Hey, Jasper," she said quietly, reaching out a hand to rub the soft hair on his strong neck. He nuzzled her shoulder affectionately, and she gave him the sugar cube.

"I'm sorry boy," she replied to his unvoiced query, "he's not coming back."

Hot tears sprang into her eyes, and she buried her face into the rough, musky-smelling mane of the horse. She stroked it, almost without noticing.

"I'm sorry boy," she said again. "I know how much he loved riding you."

Sandry thought longingly of the rides that she and her uncle had used to share. Bright, happy mornings when his health had been on the upswing. Oh! How she wished she could speak to him now! To hear his kind advice and non-judging nature. But the fact that he was gone was how she found herself in this mess to begin with! In everything that had happened the last few days, she hadn't even had a chance to properly grieve.

Briar's sentencing had been this afternoon. It was horrible. More horrible even than the trial had been, if that were possible. The court magistrate had sentenced him to death by beheading. The beheading was scheduled for a week hence. She had only a week to try and figure something out.

Briar's composure and staunch attitude throughout the whole thing had been perhaps the most painful part of all. His eyes had been aflame with anger, yet he made neither outcry nor protest. How could he just sit there like that? He had changed so much from the impulsive, temperamental youth who had been brought to Winding Circle for his last chance.

She felt so helpless and frustrated. At long last, her composure broke. Her tears came rapidly and unchecked, and her sobs wracked her small shoulders violently. In all the hustle and bustle of the murder and the trial, no one had stopped to realize that she might want to stop and think about him for a moment.

Jasper seemed somehow to sense what was going on. He stood stock-still, and provided a pillar of support.

He was not the only one who sensed it.

Sandry? What's wrong?

Sandry jerked with a shaky sigh from her weeping. She wiped her eyes hurriedly. Daja! Where are you? Her friend already seemed much closer than she had two days ago.

Just outside Summersea. We should be there within the hour.

Somehow, a portion of Sandry's burden seemed suddenly lighter, and she sobbed with relief. Oh, Daja. My uncle was murdered. And Briar…

I already know some of it, said Daja worriedly. We can discuss it when I get there.

Sandry began to nod, then remembered that her friend could not see the gesture. Yes, she agreed instead. She swallowed and tried to compose herself.

In the meantime, Daja continued, I've picked up a traveling companion. A rather spirited little girl who says she knows you.

Sandry sniffled and paused. She thought hard for a moment, then laughed, shaking her head. Let me guess, she said, Evvy, right?

Daja's bemused agreement broadcast clearly across the bond, and she did not need to confirm Sandry's guess with words.

I'll see you soon, Daja. I'll go prepare for your arrival. I'm so anxious to see you.

Not long now, saati, not long now.

:-:-:

Daja, Frostpine, and Evvy were granted access to the Citadel with very little trouble. Daja noted the morose feeling that had settled over everyone there, and her heart grieved for her friend and everyone else here. She knew how much Duke Vedris had been loved and admired by his people. Indeed, she herself would miss him very much.

She made a mental note to offer up prayer to the trader gods that night for the Duke's soul. Surely he of all men would find balance in the great bookkeeper's records.

They arrived in the main courtyard. A member of the staff held Daja's mare steady as she and Evvy dismounted. As her feet hit the floor, she heard a familiar cry.

"Daja!"

She turned, to see Sandry, dressed in black, running towards her from the edge of the courtyard. She met her friend in three strides and they shared a warm embrace.

"Oh, Daja," said Sandry, smiling warmly, "it's so good to see you. Perhaps now things will go easier."

"I hope so," replied Daja gravely.

Sandry turned her smile and her embrace on Frostpine, who picked her clear up off the ground as she hugged him. She laughed.

"Look at you, little weaver!" he said in his booming voice. "All grown up and pretty. I'll wager every page and stable boy around here spends many a sleepless night thinking about you." His eyes twinkled with laughter.

"Frostpine!" Sandry cried, blushing. "What a ridiculous thing to say."

He laughed again, but quickly grew serious. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Sandrilene," he said sadly.

Sandry said nothing, only nodded gratefully. Then she turned her attention to Evvy.

"Well," she said, folding her arms, "I've sent a message to Lark, so she won't be too worried when she comes home to find you missing. Hopefully it won't get there too long after she does. I'm surprised you didn't run into her on the road."

Evvy shuffled her feet, and met Sandry's scolding gaze boldly. She shrugged.

Sandry sighed, and shook her head with a smile. "Come on," she said, gesturing her hand towards the main doorway. "Let's go somewhere and talk."

"So what did you think of Namorn?" Sandry asked Daja as they walked. "I've only been there once myself, when I was too little to remember."

"Cold," said Frostpine from behind them, before Daja could answer. "Very cold."

Sandry laughed. "Is that all?" she asked, twisting to face him. "Well, don't look at me like that. It's not my fault you were there in the winter!"

The conversation continued in this light, bantering tone until they were ushered into a private study. Sandry shut the door and turned around.

"It comes to this," she said, her voice a dead-serious tone. "My uncle was murdered two nights ago by plant magic. When we got to the scene, we identified the magic as Briar's. I knew it was his. Even Briar admitted it was his. He has been convicted by truthsayer Haman. I don't believe it. Something strange is happening. And we don't have much time to figure out what it is."

"Why?" asked Daja, alarmed.

Sandry swallowed, and gazed at the far wall as if seeing beyond it. "Because his sentencing was this afternoon. The death sentence, a week from today."

Evvy gasped, and sprang to her feet. "No!" she shouted. "That's not fair! He didn't do anything wrong. He should have more time!"

"I agree," said Frostpine. "This is all moving along much too quickly."

"I don't understand," asked Daja, confused. "Sandry, isn't there some way you can just grant him a pardon?"

Before she'd finished the question, Sandry was already shaking her head. "No. Not for this type of capital crime." She began pacing in agitation. "Besides, I don't just want Briar to be let off. I want him acquitted!" Her face was tense and angry. "He's worked so long and hard to prove himself worthy of people's trust. He doesn't need to have this haunting him the rest of his life. No, we need to figure this out. We need to prove his innocence."

Evvy was still looking panicked. "Well first we need to get him out! He can't stay in there! Why haven't you done anything?" she asked Sandry with a note of accusation.

"Hush, child," berated Frostpine sternly. "Unfortunately, it's not that easy for Sandry. She has more than just Briar's concerns to think about."

Sandry gave him a grateful look. She stopped pacing, and went over to the chair next to Evvy's, and spoke seriously to the girl.

"You know I would love nothing better than to devote all my attention to freeing Briar. The problem is that part of me cannot be swayed by my personal feelings, because I'm answerable to the people of Emelan whom I serve." She hesitated, obviously trying to think of the best choice of words. "One of the things that makes Emelan special is our justice system here. It protects the citizens, and gives us order. If the ruler just throws her nose up at the law and acts like she is above it, how will that look to the people of the country?"

"But Briar is innocent!" Evvy repeated.

Sandry sighed mournfully. "I know," she said. She stood up and resumed pacing. "I wish," she finally said, coming to a halt, "that there was a way I could make a decision that compromised neither my position nor my personal desires. But so it must be. We'll get him out. Tomorrow night would be best. It will give us time to plan properly."

Evvy still did not look satisfied. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, considering. At long last she nodded slowly.

"Good," said Sandry, "we're agreed. We wait until tomorrow." Then she groaned and put her head in her hands. "I've got a meeting tomorrow with the head of the merchant guild. Why this wretched strike had to come at this exact moment, I'm sure I don't know."

Suddenly, Evvy's jacket pocket started wriggling and mewling.

"Oh!" said the small girl, eyes widening. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a small black ball of fluff. She held it out to Sandry. "Here, I brought you your cat."

Sandry took it with a genuine smile. "Thank you Evvy. That's the nicest thing that's happened all day."

Frostpine snorted and looked at Daja. "Lets us know where we rank in the scheme of things, don't you think?"

Everyone laughed, and Daja gave Sandry another warm embrace. "It's good to be home," she said.

:-:-:

The chambers that Sandry had assigned to Daja were very large and comfortable. But she found she couldn't relax. She was absolutely exhausted, but her mind was much too full for sleep. The suspicious events surrounding the Duke's murder were nagging at her mind.

She desperately wanted to speak with him. Idly, she wondered if it was too late to go visit him. She supposed there was no harm in trying.

The hallways were dark and quiet. She moved along as discreetly as possible, not wanting to disturb the already sleeping residents whose doorways she passed.

She'd made it all the way to the front hall when she did encounter someone. A young man with an authoritative bearing, he appeared to be a member of Sandry's personal guard. He was coming in the main door, as if just getting back from somewhere.

Daja was halfway down the staircase when he finally noticed her.

"Hello," he greeted cordially. "Awfully late to be up, isn't it?"

Daja raised her eyebrows speculatively. "I might say the same to you…" she trailed off, obviously waiting for him to identify himself.

He smiled, and held out a hand. " Penmic. Morer Penmic. Captain of Her Eminence's personal guard."

Daja accepted the handshake with a grave nod. "Daja Kisubo," she replied.

"Ah," he said. "That Daja. I had heard you'd returned today. Welcome home."

She nodded again.

"So what brings you out wandering tonight, Daja Kisubo?"

She tilted her head. "I was hungry," she said promptly. "Traveling as hard as we did takes a lot out of you. And I couldn't sleep. Too much to think about."

"I can well imagine," he replied with a nod. "The mage Briar Moss is a friend of yours as well, is he not?"

This young man was very perceptive. She would have to tread carefully around him. "Yes," she said, but did not elaborate.

"It's such a shame…" Penmic began regretfully, but trailed off. Daja was left to wonder what he thought was a shame.

"Actually," she said, "maybe you could help me. Would it be all right if I paid him a visit? I haven't seen him since I've returned. I won't cause any trouble, I promise."

"Very well. I've just been to see him myself. Just go into the courtyard and take the rightmost door, make a left, and take the staircase down. It shouldn't be too hard to find after that. Just follow the torches."

"Thank you, Captain Penmic," she said. "I appreciate it."

"Here," he said, reaching into his tunic pocket. He pulled out a signet ring on a chain and handed it to her. "They'll know I've given you clearance. Just return it to me in the morning. I'll be in the courtyard at seven to start my rounds of the city."

Daja took it with more thanks, and bid him goodnight.

:-:-:

Alone in his cell, Briar reflected on his recent interview with the Captain of the Guard.

"The purpose of my visit," Penmic had said, "is to ensure your comfort. The Duchess asked that you be kept as comfortable as possible. Are you getting enough to eat? To drink?"

"For a man facing certain death I'm as well as can be expected," Briar had replied dispassionately. "Tell the Duchess not to worry about me. Tell her to forget she ever knew me."

Then he was gone, leaving Briar to spend another cold night here.

The first night had been nothing short of torturous. He'd been in prison before but it had been nothing to this. Then he'd had nothing to live for, no dreams, and no ambitions. His life had finally come to mean something and now he was going to lose everything. Before he had not been forced to watch a dear friend have to suffer doubt and sorrow on his behalf.

Lost in thought, it was sometime before Briar began to hear strange noises outside his cell wall. Eventually, though a strange buzzing sound induced him to get up and look outside the grated door of his cell.

The sight that met his eyes was very surprising. The guards were all sleeping. Every single one of them. Like little children after a long day of play. They didn't look like they'd be arousing any time soon. And one of them was snoring, badly.

His alert senses suddenly detected a giggle coming from the opposite door of the cell. He peered into the darkness. A small figure eased around the doorway and fell into the torchlight.

Briar rolled his eyes.

"Surprise!" said Evvy.

"Shhh!" said Briar fiercely. "Evvy! What in blazes are you doing here? What did you do to the guards?" he asked, still looking at them in disbelief.

Evvy stuck her tongue out at him from the other side of the room. Then she held up her silver pouch, the one that Lark had given her. "Amethyst dust," she said. "I made it with my pestle before I came here. It's dread wonderful for inducing sleep. A common cure for insomnia."

"That's nice Evvy. I hope you didn't overdo it."

"Well," she said huffily. "Aren't we mister grateful! I've come to break you out, and all I get is a teacher lecture?"

Briar sighed and shook his head, smiling. "Fine. As long as you're here, do something useful, and look for the keys."

At that moment they heard the sound of footsteps outside the cell. Evvy froze, and Briar could swear the pounding of his heart grew so loud the whole Citadel could hear it.

He was never so shocked as he was upon seeing Daja walk into the room. She took around, taking in Briar, Evvy, and the snoring guards and shook her head.

"Evvy," she said disapprovingly, "we were supposed to wait until tomorrow night."

Briar laughed. "I see you two know each other already."

Daja grinned at him and walked over to his door, grasping his extended hand. "Saati," she said fervently, "can't you ever keep yourself out of trouble?"

He gave a wistful sigh and shrugged his shoulders. "Apparently not," he replied. "Welcome home, Daja."

"As welcome as can be expected," she agreed.

It was comforting to know that Daja had returned. Daja was the solid ground, the tie-post of the four friends. Briar, Tris, and Sandry were all quick, eager, and reckless in their own varying ways, but Daja was as steady as the beating of her own hammer. She would at least be a comfort and help to Sandry. Now the only loved ones he lacked were Tris and Niko, but no one was really quite sure when they would return.

Daja had turned her pointed gaze back on Evvy. The stone-mage lifted her chin proudly. "You heard what Pahan Sandry said. I figured if I did it tonight, she wouldn't have to worry about betraying her people and all that."

Daja had to privately admit that this was a very elegant answer, but she didn't want to indulge the child's impulsive initiative, so she kept her stern face. "Well, I guess since you've got this started, I'd best help you finish it."

While Evvy searched for the keys, Daja studied Briar's cell. "They've done something strange to your cell," she said. She ran her hand along the bars. "The spell is very strong."

"It's a spell to block my magic," he said with a sigh. "The harrier mages set it up. It's very effective actually. I feel blind and naked in here."

Daja shook her head sadly. She closed her eyes and spoke softly to the iron, and something strange happened. The spell, which they could both clearly see, seemed to be repelled away from the metal. With nothing to attach itself to, it was far less reliable.

"That ought to fool them for a while," she said regretfully. "I could get rid of it altogether, but I'm afraid that would make our exit less subtle than we would like."

"Here's the keys!" Evvy cried eagerly, brandishing them as she walked over. There were several, and the clinked loudly as she walked.

"Let me see," said Daja, holding out her hand. Evvy passed them over.

It took Daja only a moment to identify the correct key. She didn't even look at them, just closed her eyes and picked it out.

"Careful," said Briar as she put her hand to the latch, "the door's awfully squeaky."

Daja nodded and reached out with her magic to the hinges as well. These little gadgets: keys, locks, hinges, were all very familiar to her. She'd made dozens and dozens of similar type things in her work as a smith.

The door opened squeak-free for probably the first time in a decade. Daja let out a satisfied smile. Daja instructed Evvy to return the keys to their rightful owner. After that, they were ready to go.

They took the darkest corridors, and most deserted routes, heading for the back doors out through the kitchens.

As they walked through the main servant's hallway, tiptoeing as quietly as possible, Briar noticed a tall figure wearing a Duke's guard uniform. The man very obviously saw them. He paused, and the three friends halted in heart-pounding fear. But then the figure turned and walked the other way.

When they finally slipped into the street outside, Briar whispered, "Well, that explains plenty."

"What do you mean?" asked Daja.

"About why it was so easy to escape," he said. "It's Penmic. He let us go."