"Were you up there all night?»

Alec rubbed at the back of his neck. "I couldn't sleep, so I went up to the colos to think. I must have finally dozed off. Where are you off to so early? I was hoping for a few hours' sleep in a warm bed."

"Not just yet, tali. Klia's sent for us."

This woke him up. "Do you think the Iia'sidra has reached a decision?" he asked, following Seregil downstairs.

"Even if they had, I doubt they'd spring that on us at dawn."

As they walked down the second-floor corridor toward Klia's chamber they could hear familiar sounds echoing up from the kitchen: clattering of pots, hurried footsteps, the voices of some Urgazhi riders joking with the cooks in broken Aurenfaie as they came in for their breakfast.

"Sounds like a normal enough morning," Alec remarked.

Thero answered their knock and admitted them to Klia's sitting room.

The princess sat by a small writing table. Although she was dressed for a day with the council, one look at her pale, too-calm face left Seregil with a sinking feeling. No, this was no normal morning.

Thero moved to stand just behind her, as if she were queen and he her court wizard. Lord Torsin and Beka already occupied the room's only chairs, and they looked as uneasy as Seregil suddenly felt.

"Good, you're all here. The queen my mother is dead," Klia announced flatly.

The words sapped the strength from Seregil's legs. The others seemed equally affected. Alec pressed one hand to his heart, the Dalnan sign of respect for the dead. Beka sat with her hands clasped around the hilt of her sword, head bowed. Of them all, Torsin appeared most stricken by the news. Sagging in his chair, he coughed convulsively into the stained handkerchief.

"I will not see her like again," he gasped out at last.

Thero held up a letter for the others to see. "It's from Magyana, dated yesterday and written in evident haste. It reads: 'The queen died the night before last. Brave soul, she should not have survived

this long, even with our magic and healing. The darkness seems already to be closing in around us.

" 'Northern Mycena has fallen to Plenimar. Phoria has already been crowned in the field. Korathan will replace Lady Morthiana as vicegerent at Rhiminee.

" 'Against all urging, Phoria has forbidden sending this news to Klia, so I risk all that you may not be taken by surprise.

" 'I am presently out of favor and have little influence. I have not been released from service, but am no longer consulted. Korathan has her ear, but is his sister's man, as is her wizard, Organeus.

" 'Phoria has not yet ordered Klia's return, which puzzles me. She and her supporters clearly have little faith in a propitious outcome. You must impress upon Klia that she is very much on her own now.

" 'I wish I could offer you more guidance, dear boy, but things are as yet too uncertain. Illior grant that I will not be sent from the royal camp before you are all safely on your way home again. — Magyana'»

"This couldn't have come at a worse time," said Klia. "Just when we were beginning to make progress among the Haman and some of the undecided clans. How will they respond to this?"

Another coughing fit shook Torsin, doubling him over in his chair. When it passed, he wiped his lips and wheezed out, "It is difficult to predict, my lady. They know so little of Phoria."

"I'd say our greatest concern is the fact that she didn't send word herself," said Seregil. "What do you suppose prompted that lack of sisterly consideration?"

"Does the Iia'sidra know of her opposition?" asked Alec.

"I suspect some of them do," Torsin replied bleakly.

"Two days!" Klia slammed a hand down on the polished desktop, making the others jump. "Our mother dead for two days and she sends me no word? What if the Aurenfaie already know? What must they think?"

"We can find out, my lady," Alec told her. "If this was Rhiminee, Seregil and I would have paid a few night visits to your opponents already. Isn't that why the queen wanted us here in the first place?"

"Perhaps, but I'm the one who makes those decisions here," Klia warned. "For any Skalan to be caught spying could destroy everything we've worked for. And consider Seregil's position. What do you think would happen to him if he were caught? No, we'll wait a bit longer. Come with me to the council today, both of you. I want your impressions."

Torsin exchanged an uneasy look with Seregil, then said gently, "You mustn't go to the Iia'sidra today, my lady."

"Don't be ridiculous. Now more than ever—"

"He's right," said Seregil. Going to her, he knelt and rested a hand on her knee. This close, he could see how red her eyes were. "Mourning is a deeply sacred rite among the Aurenfaie; it can last for months. You must at least observe the Skalan four-day ritual. The same applies to me, I suppose, considering how much we've made of my kinship to your family. Alec can be my eyes and ears."

Klia rested her head on one hand and let out a shakey sigh. "You're right, of course. But Plenimar presses closer to the heart of Skala every day I'm here without an answer. This delay is the last thing Mother would have wanted!"

"We may be able to wring some advantage from it, all the same," Seregil assured her. "According to Aurenfaie custom, the khirnari are expected to. visit you. This could offer certain opportunities for, shall we say, private debate?"

Klia regarded him quizzically. "I can't appear publicly, yet I can scheme and intrigue from behind a veil of mourning?"

Seregil gave her a crooked grin. "That's right. I'll wager certain people will be watching quite closely to see who comes to you and how long they stay."

"Yet how are we to announce the queen's death?" Thero asked suddenly. "If it weren't for Magyana, we wouldn't even know."

"What am I supposed to do? Lie?" Klia asked, angry again. "Dissemble until our new queen sees fit to inform me of this turn of events? If lack of mourning would dishonor me in the eyes of the Iia'sidra, what would that do, eh? That could well be Phoria's purpose. By the Four, I won't be her dupe!"

"Quite right, my lady," Torsin agreed. "Your forthrightness has been our greatest asset."

"Very well, then. Lord Torsin, you'll go to the lia'sidra today and announce the queen's passing. Let Phoria worry for herself where we came by the information. Alec and Thero will accompany you, together with a full honor guard. I want a detailed report of the day's proceedings. Captain, find black sashes for your riders and see that their cloaks are reversed and the horses' manes cropped. My mother was a Skalan warrior; she'll be accorded a warrior's honors."

Beka rose to attention."Do you wish me to announce the queen's death to my riders?»

"Yes. You're dismissed. Now, Seregil, what else must I do to satisfy Aurenfaie convention?"

"You'd better talk to my sisters. I'll fetch them."

"Thank you, my friend, we aren't bested yet. Now if you'll excuse us, I need a moment with Lord Torsin."

It's time we learned whether she knows of his meeting with Khatme, Seregil thought, following the others out. As he turned to close the door, something on the floor next to the doorjamb caught his eye: a small, flattened clod of moist earth. Kneeling, he examined it more closely.

"What's that?" asked Thero, already halfway to the stairs.

"How old do you make this?" Seregil asked Alec.

Alec squatted down beside him and nudged at it with a forefinger. "Not more than a few minutes. The floor's still damp beneath it, and no sign of drying about the edges. It's come off somebody's boots." Picking it up, he sniffed it and took a closer look. "Horse manure, with bits of hay and oats stuck in it."

"Beka must have tracked it in," said Thero.

Alec shook his head. "No, she was already here when we arrived, and this is fresher than that. And I was standing near the door the whole time we were in there and would have heard if anyone walked by. This person didn't mean to be heard, and this bit of muck places him close to the wall next to the door—an eavesdropper for certain, one who came in through the stable yard."