"And the weapons?"

"They are the weapons of the Ascendants. We call them swords, Chosen, but they are much, much more than that; they understand the heart of their wielder, and they become the weapon of their wielder's choice. They cannot be broken; they cannot be stained."

"So the Ascendants always have these weapons?"

"Yes."

Kaylin frowned. "How were the weapons made?"

"It is not recorded, Chosen."

"But the Dragons made them?"

"The Dragons gifted the Ascendants with the weapons."

It wasn't quite the same thing, but they clearly didn't have the answer. She glanced at Severn. Severn then asked the next question. "Ask Mejrah if she was trained as a possible Ascendant."

Kaylin repeated the question.

Effaron shook his head. "Bellusdeo trained the Ascendants. When she was lost to us, the Elders attempted to teach what they had been taught. But without Bellusdeo there could be no more Ascendants, just the knowledge pa.s.sed down from the Elders who had once almost been chosen. Mejrah was schooled in that tradition."

"When Mejrah was taught, was she ever shown images of the Dragon Queen? Were there paintings or sculptures or tapestries?" Severn said.

Kaylin repeated that one, as well, feeling more sympathy for Effaron's position as translator than she had in the past.

Mejrah's frown was more ferocious than Effaron's.

"She wants to know why you ask."

"Funny," Kaylin replied, "so do I. Severn?"

His answer was both unexpected and, in the end, unsurprising. He removed the crystal the Arkon had constructed from its pouch at his side. This, he set between his knees on the carpet. "You might want to warn them," he told Kaylin.

Kaylin did as he suggested, watching Mejrah carefully. Mejrah was grumbling at one of the Elders when the crystal's image emerged and unfolded in front of Severn.

The old woman's eyes widened so much they became half white; her mouth opened, and she stared, slack jawed, for one frozen moment.

"Well," Kaylin murmured. "I guess that answers that question."

Severn nodded.

CHAPTER 16.

Picking up the crystal again was more difficult than either Severn or Kaylin had considered when Severn had set it down. Mejrah's voice returned, and it was higher and louder than usual-which said something, because Mejrah had the makings of a Sergeant. It was also much faster. Effaron was shocked enough that he dropped Kaylin's hand, which meant Mejrah had to repeat it all once he'd recovered his grip on both his composure and said hand.

What it boiled down to was this: Mejrah wanted to keep it. Emphatically and forcefully.

In any other circ.u.mstance Kaylin would have let her have it, even given the cost of its creation. Unfortunately, the crystal had come from the Arkon, and the Arkon had made it very clear he wanted it back. Effaron understood every word Kaylin said. Mejrah understood every word Effaron said. Something, however, appeared to have been lost in the translation. Mejrah descended into pleading, which was far worse-on Kaylin's nerves-than threats or demands would have been.

It was also clearly shocking for most of the Norannir who were anywhere nearby. Given Mejrah's general mood, the Norannir were better at pretending they weren't eavesdropping than, say, the Office Barrani, but they were people. The two men that Kaylin also thought of as Elders didn't bother with the pretense. They joined Mejrah, kneeling to either side of her on the increasingly small rug.

After some very awkward back-and-forth, Kaylin turned to Severn. "You caught all that?"

He nodded.

"Okay. As near as I can tell, they understand that a) this is very important to one of our Dragons and, b) their reverence for their Dragon trumps our desire to save our own necks. Am I missing something?"

Severn chuckled; it was pained, but he was genuinely amused. Easy for him, on the other hand; the Arkon never raised his voice at Severn. "I think they a.s.sume that our reverence for our Dragons is nonexistent in comparison to their reverence for theirs. They don't hold Sanabalis or Tiamaris in the same reverence-or awe-they clearly feel for Bellusdeo."

"Probably because they never met her," Kaylin muttered. The only Norannir who could understand what she said grimaced. He didn't, on the other hand, repeat what she'd said so Mejrah could hear it, which meant she owed him one.

In the end, it was decided that Severn would leave the crystal with Mejrah until Lord Sanabalis-or the Arkon himself-returned, because Kaylin had no doubt whatsoever that one or both of the Dragons would want to speak with Mejrah about Bellusdeo. Kaylin took great pains to make sure Mejrah-and anyone else in hearing range of Effaron-understood that the crystal was on loan; it was not a gift, because neither she nor Severn owned it. The Elders could make their case to the Arkon, a Dragon who did not believe-in any way-that possession was nine-tenths of the Law.

But watching Mejrah's face as the old woman gathered the crystal in her shaking hands killed anything as petty as irritation. Her eyes were wide with something too painful to be wonder; they filmed in that particular way that eyes did when a person was determined not to cry and only partly succeeding. The two older men were silent, but one wept openly.

It was almost worth the Arkon's ire. She promised herself she'd try to remember this when she was actually exposed to it.

Tara spoke once they were far enough away from the Norannir border post. "I don't think the Arkon will approve."

"I wouldn't take that bet," Kaylin replied. "But...you saw their faces, Tara."

"I did. I think we should return to the Tower."

"We haven't even begun. The Arkon thinks we're missing two bodies."

"We didn't search for the other seven; they came to us."

"No. But no one's mentioned eight or nine; I think the Arkon believes that they either haven't appeared yet, or they aren't corpses yet."

"You saw the reaction the Norannir had to the crystal." Kaylin nodded. "If they find her corpse now, I'm not sure what will happen-but they'll certainly let us know. If they find her alive, somehow, their reaction will be exactly the opposite of most of the rest of the fief. Come on. We have two areas marked in the fief where the probability of storms while the borders were down were highest. Severn and I will head there. Do you want to go back to the Tower?"

"...No."

The fief of Tiamaris was not the fief of Barren. The streets had more or less the same shape-and the same names, although Tara said that was going to change sometime in the near future. The buildings were more or less the same, where they still existed. Here and there, gaps yawned between standing structures. Tara obligingly explained why it had been necessary to demolish the missing buildings; they were infested. Some of the Shadows that had worked their way across the weakened boundaries had nested in those buildings-and often in the people who'd holed up in them.

"There are still some problems," she added. "My Lord, with the aid of the Norannir, has hunted down most of the remaining Shadows-but one or two are subtle. I'm not entirely certain they're still in the fief."

Heart sinking, Kaylin said, "You don't think they've returned to the heart of the fiefs, do you?"

"No. I think it's possible they've crossed the bridge. The only boundaries that cause them difficulty are the boundaries that the Towers make."

There were others, as well, but Kaylin didn't see a reason to quibble. She glanced at Severn and mentally added it to the list of things that had probably already gone wrong when they weren't looking. She then took a look at a more literal note she'd made. "We want to hit Whetstone and Tanner. The streets," she added.

Whetstone and Tanner were on the way to what Tiamaris hoped would eventually be the fief's market. Three blocks from the heaviest construction in the fief, if you didn't count the border towers, three buildings had gone missing. "Tara?"

"We didn't destroy those," was the Avatar's quiet reply. "If you look, you'll see. There's no sign of fire, no sign of burning."

"There's no sign of building, either. I only lived here for three months, but I remember at least one of those buildings really well."

"It vanished."

"Vanished."

Tara nodded. "There was a storm here, I think. It would have pa.s.sed through just before my Lord claimed the fief. The foundations and the bas.e.m.e.nts are still here," she added.

Kaylin, who had walked to the edge of the road nearest the missing buildings, could now see that for herself. A small, unpainted fence had been erected along what had once been three buildings' facades. It looked as if the walls had been sheared off at ground level. "Was there any debris?"

"No."

"Severn, give me a hand."

Severn nodded. He shrugged the pack he was wearing off his shoulders, opened it, and took out a very flat rope. "I'll hold it if you want to climb down."

"Thanks."

He smiled. "You've always been better at climbing than I have."

"Better at falling, too," she murmured. She hopped over the fence with care; it was a very thin fence. Taking the rope, she slipped it around her waist. "This is new."

Severn nodded. "A gift from Evanton. It's strong, but it's not bulky. It won't give you rope burns, and with luck, it won't bisect you if you fall too far." This was a not-so-subtle criticism of Kaylin's choice of knot.

"That's what I like about Evanton," she said as she peered down the ten feet or so of wall that led to packed and oiled dirt. "He uses magic for practical things. If all mages were like Evanton, we'd be-"

"Out of a job?"

She snorted. "I won't need the rope," she told him.

"It can't hurt."

Easy for Severn to say. Had she not been wearing the d.a.m.n thing, she could have jumped and rolled if necessary; as it was, she had to half skid down the wall itself. When she did find her footing, she turned and headed away from the street. "Severn?"

"I'm here. Do you want me to join you?"

"Not exactly. I think I've found body number eight."

"You're certain?"

"No. But I see a pretty familiar shade of blue in a huddle against the far wall." She slowed as she approached it, and heard a soft thump at her back. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Tara had chosen to join her.

"It's the same," the Avatar said, standing beside-and slightly behind-Kaylin.

The cloth was huddled; the skirts rose and fell in a way that implied knees that were drawn to the chest. Arms were wrapped around those legs, but the fabric completely covered her feet. Strands of gold fell to either side of the dress, as if parted; the top of the woman's head was dusty but distinct.

Kaylin's skin began to tingle. She wondered if that was due to Severn's rope, but the dagger sheaths that Evanton had crafted for her didn't cause her magic-sense to start itching; even the sheath she now wore-which had really p.i.s.sed off or panicked the sword-was comfortable. "Tara, be careful."

Tara nodded.

Kaylin took two steps forward. Both made the tingling slightly worse. She'd seen seven corpses and none of them had had this effect on her. "Severn, I don't think this is a body."

The pile of blue cloth moved; the sleeves fell. As they did, Kaylin saw the movement of hands, the pale color of skin. She froze as the woman lifted her head. Her eyes were a natural hazel with flecks of pure gold; they weren't the gold that the autopsy scan had revealed. They were also wide and unblinking as they stared at Kaylin.

Kaylin hesitated and then, guided by instinct, she turned her inner arms toward the woman who sat curled against the remnant of the wall. The marks on her arms began to glow a faint and steady blue, and the woman's eyes widened further. Her mouth opened in a soundless O.

"Kaylin," Tara said, her voice cooler, the edges of the word p.r.o.nounced. It was meant as warning.

The woman tried to push herself off the packed dirt and onto very unsteady legs. Without thinking-something that she was too good at-Kaylin rushed forward. She didn't mark the moment the runes on her skin began to ache; she didn't have time. She managed to catch the woman before she collapsed. As Kaylin's arms stiffened to support the unexpectedly heavy weight, the woman grabbed her wrists.

She had a grip like a drillmaster's, even though her hands were a lot prettier. "Chosen," she said. "Chosen, hear me. I have little time."

"Don't speak," Kaylin told her firmly. "We'll get help. We can-"

But the woman shook her head. "You bear the sword," she said. "I can hear it. You must kill me, Chosen."

Kaylin stiffened as the woman's grip tightened.

"Chosen."

"What is she saying?" Tara asked.

"You can't understand her?"

"No. She is not speaking native Dragon."

"She can't be. I can still hear her."

"Yes. What is she asking of you?"

"She wants me to-to kill her."

Tara said, after a pause, "I don't think that will be necessary."

"Help me lift her, Tara. If we get her back to the Tower, the Arkon might be able to help her."

Tara nodded; she was grim now. She caught the woman under the arms; the woman struggled. "Chosen," she said, her voice thinner and weaker. "Please, please. You must listen. You must do as I ask. Strike while I still have time."

"Tara," Kaylin said through clenched teeth.

The Avatar nodded again, and this time, the cloth she wore transformed in a literal eye blink. Kaylin's arms and legs already ached so badly the Tower's use of magic couldn't make it worse. Wings rose from Tara's back; wings as long and fine as an Aerian's. "I will take her," she said. "I will take her in haste." She closed her eyes briefly. "My Lord will meet me as I approach. Follow." She lifted the woman as if she were a very small child.

At moments like this, Kaylin understood exactly why Sanabalis thought she was worthy of fear. The stranger's grip on her wrists eased and she began to shudder as Tara leaped straight into the open air.