Tanis shook his head. "I don't know," he said truthfully.

"But you, of all people, must know, Tanis," the Speaker said, his voice taking on an edge. "You have always been closest to her of my children. And now I find that perhaps you are closer than I thought." His eyes flashed green.

"No, it's not that at all," Tanis said, his heart galloping in his chest. "It was just a game we played, a long time ago, that's all."

"A game?" the Speaker said. His voice was soft, but there was a sharpness that left Tanis chilled. "This is a serious matter, Tanthalas," he said, advancing toward the half-elf, his robes rippling around him. "The integrity of our house, the harmony of the court, the very peace this city is founded upon, are at stake here. This is not a time for games!"

Tanis shook his head, his face hot. He tried to say something, anything, but no words came.

"First Laurana all but defies me before the entire court," Solostaran continued. "And I hoped that you would have learned from that, that you would have seen the effects of what you'd wrought, for you have always been dear to me, and I'd thought that you respected me. But then I learned that only hours later you were with her again in the courtyard, that she flung her arms about you and kissed you like… like…" The Speaker's words faltered, but then he gathered himself. His eyes glinted, and his voice was rough. "This is a dark game you are playing with her, Tanis. You are a member of this court and should respect its decrees. You are my ward. You are her brother and she, your sister."

The Speaker's eyes went wide, the rage draining from them, leaving his face gaunt. His shoulders sagged, and he grasped the edge of his desk as if to steady himself.

"Excuse me, Tanis," he whispered.

Tanis helped the Speaker into his chair.

"It's just that things have been so hard, leading up to this past day," the Speaker said. He gestured to a decanter of wine, and Tanis poured a cup for the Speaker to sip. "And since yesterday, courtiers have been at me like hounds nipping at the flanks of a stag. And what was I to tell them? That my ward was going to marry the woman whom all considered his sister-in name, if not in actuality? That I would break my word?" He shook his head. "But try to understand. It is not you I'm angry with. It's the court and its narrow-mindedness, about you, about your heritage."

Tanis sighed. He desperately wanted to believe the Speaker, and true enough, that old warmth radiated from his surrogate father now.

"I've told you the truth," Tanis said. "I love Laurana, of course, but as my sister. I'm not sure what to do now." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Laurana can be pretty stubborn."

The Speaker almost laughed then. At least, a smile flickered across his lips. "Ah, I should have expected it, really. Her childhood playmate has become a handsome young elf lord. What wonder is it that she fancies him? For while he has been raised as her brother, she knows this is not truly so."

Tanis waited, unsure what to say, but the interview appeared to be over. Moments later, he was back in the corridor, alone.

Chapter 17

Tanis watched the sunrise from the vantage of the Hall of the Sky. The pale beams glinted like copper on the Tower of the Sun and sparked like fire off the city's crystal and marble buildings. As the sun rose above the horizon, it intercepted a far-off bank of dark clouds that hung low in the sky. The sun set the clouds ablaze, turning them from dull gray to blazing crimson in minutes. The clouds seemed thicker than they had the previous evening. Tanis made his way back to the palace, heading for the stable, where Belthar, his three-year-old chestnut stallion, was quartered.

Outside the gray granite stable, the nobles of Qualinost were already gathered. Tyresian, wearing black leather breeches and steel breastplate, shouted orders to Ulthen from the top of his bay stallion, Primordan. Miral lounged against one wall of the stable, cloth bags of spell-casting items dangling from the belt of the hooded red tunic he had exchanged for his customary robe. The knee-length tunic was split down the middle, allowing the mage to ride a horse comfortably. Several other nobles, whose names Tanis couldn't remember, chatted in a group to the left of the stable door. Nearby, Litanas saddled the mage's gelding. Porthios stood off to one side, watching but saying little; his brother, Gilthanas, wearing his black guard's uniform, mimicked his stance, to Porthios's apparent discomfiture. Tanis nodded to his cousins as he entered the livery stable to retrieve Belthar. Later, as he led the stallion forth onto the cobblestones of the stable yard, he saw Xenoth approaching from the palace and Flint, on Fleetfoot, riding in from the south, Tanis's sword flapping at his side. On the other side of the pack animal rested the dwarf's battle-axe.

"Now there's a memorable pair-a dwarf on a mule and an elf so old he probably knew Kith-Kanan," Ulthen shouted to Gilthanas, who glanced at his brother and quickly masked a smile. Porthios looked annoyed. Tanis paused by the Speaker's heir, holding Belthar by the reins and waiting for Flint to bring him his sword.

Lord Xenoth reached the stable yard first, his ankle-length robes, the color of the storm clouds gathering overhead, fluttering around his legs. He asked Tyresian where he could borrow a horse; apparently the adviser didn't own one.

"By the gods, Xenoth is going to have to ride sidesaddle in that outfit!" Porthios muttered to Gilthanas and the half-elf. "Even Laurana rides astride. Go give him a hand, Tanis. He can ride the mare Image."

Tanis handed his reins to Gilthanas and strode off to help Lord Xenoth. Despite the upheaval of the last few days, even though he knew the group of volunteers would seek a deadly beast that already had slain several elves, he was happy to be a part of the hunt. The half-elf felt a twinge of excitement shiver through him. He had never been invited to ride with Tyresian or Porthios on one of the elf lords' stag hunts-they were reserved for the highest of elven nobility-but this time Tyresian could not stop him. Tanis closed his eyes, imagining the branches whipping green and blurred past him as he galloped with his mount through the forest trails. It was going to be glorious.

In the dim light of the stable, Xenoth peered into stall after stall, apparently seeking a mount that was suitable for him-or, perhaps, suitable for the rider he had been decades earlier. Tanis went over to Image's stall and called her name, and the mottled head of the elderly mare appeared over the top of the half-door. A gentle creature, she whickered softly in response; Tanis and she had been friends for years, and she pricked her ears now, eyeing his pockets for apples or other delectables. He pulled a carrot out of his tunic, cracked it in half, and offered it on a flattened palm. He watched as her rubbery lips sought out the trifle, fed it into her crunching maw, and snuffled around for the other half.

"Sorry, that half's for Belthar," he said, then raised his voice. "Lord Xenoth. I have your horse for you."

At the other end of the stable, Xenoth paused by the stall of Alliance, a huge warhorse that even Tyresian could barely control. The adviser shook his head, silver hair gleaming in the gray light, and pointed at the beast. "I will ride this one," Xenoth said. "Get him ready for me."

Alliance lunged over the partition, teeth narrowly missing the wizened elf's hand. Xenoth leaped back with a cry. Tanis, shaking his head, led Image out of the stall, and a stableboy leaped to prepare the horse for riding.

"Ride Image," Tanis said. "She's a fine, gentle horse."