Someplace like Solace, perhaps.

The dwarf threw that thought off, however, and reviewed the candidates. If Gilthanas even bothered to listen to the dwarf's entire idea, the neophyte guard almost certainly would raise an alarm that would scare off the murderer until another time-most likely until after Tanis had been banished. Which would not help the half-elf at all.

That left…

"Laurana, I have to talk to you," Flint said through the closed door.

"Go away, Master Fireforge," came the peevish reply.

"It's about Tanis."

A pause. Then the same voice, a bit less ill-humored, was heard. "I don't want to hear about Tanis.

"Fine," Flint groused. "I'll just let him die without speaking to you one last time. I'll let you know when the funeral is. In case you're interested in attending." He stomped on the marble floor, loudly at first, then gradually more softly.

The door swung open. "Flint, wait!" Laurana called, dashing into the corridor, past the dwarf.

"I figured that might work," Flint said smugly from next to her doorway. He traipsed into Laurana's chambers.

The elf swung around and faced the dwarf, then stalked back into the small sitting room, a common feature in the palace's private chambers; it was outfitted with fireplace, small table, and two straight chairs before the fire, one of which already held Flint comfortably ensconced. She slammed the door upon entering.

Her scowl gradually turned to a look of confusion as Flint sketched in the background that he'd sorted out. He concluded, "Then I realized 'the heir'!"

But the princess still looked mystified. "The air?"

"The heir," Flint corrected her. "That's what Ailea was saying. The portrait she held was of Gilthanas and Porthios. The murderer, the one I now believe slew Lord Xenoth and Eld Ailea, intends to kill the Speaker's heir, Porthios."

If he'd been hoping for a big response, Flint was to be disappointed. Laurana just sat there, stroking the edges of the pale yellow cloak she'd thrown over her gown.

"But we're all his heirs," she objected. "Me, Gilthanas, and Porthios. Which one?"

Flint sat back. He'd been thinking in terms of Porthios all along. Why not Gilthanas and Laurana as well? Someone seeking to move up the ascendancy to become Speaker would have to eliminate them, too. Pieces of the puzzle were missing, but Flint still had a day to reveal the slayer before the Speaker would renew his vow to banish Tanis.

The seeds of another idea sprouted in his brain. "What better time to kill Porthios than at his own Kentommen?" the dwarf asked.

"What better time to kill all of us?" Laurana asked reasonably. "We'll all be together in the Tower at the same time. But why, Flint? And anyway, the suspect can't be an elf. We don't do things like this." She turned away from him and faced the fire.

Flint sat a few moments, gazing at the princess's silhouette. "Ah, lass, you've seen so little of the world."

She still objected, rising and pacing on the hearth rug in her agitation. "You want me to get you past the guard to see my father. But you don't have enough evidence to warrant my interrupting the Speaker and canceling the Kentommen," she said heatedly. "Your only evidence is your guess about what Eld Ailea was thinking right before she died."

"But don't you see?" he boomed. " The heir'! And she was holding the heirs' portrait!"

"If I order the guards to let you in and it turns out that this is all nothing but an elderly midwife's fantasy, my father…" Her voice faltered, and she grew pale. "But if I don't, and something bad really does happen…" She sagged into the chair. "I'm too young to be making these kinds of decisions!" she complained.

Flint watched her, realizing that he was viewing the beginning of the metamorphosis of a spoiled little girl into an elf woman with great strength-if she'd only let herself show it. She jumped to her feet and resumed pacing.

"Why, Flint?" she asked. "Why would someone want to kill the Speaker's heirs? Not that I believe you for a moment," she hastily added.

"Greed," Flint suggested. "Vengeance. Insanity. Unrequited love. This isn't the kind of scheme someone comes up with overnight, you know. I'd guess the murderer has been working on this for years."

"Well, then…" Laurana faltered again. "Then he's probably someone we know."

"Well, certainly," Flint snapped. "What did you think?"

They glared at each other for a long moment, then Laurana looked away and softly said, "It won't help Tanis if we argue, you know."

Flint grunted. Then, more quietly, he asked, "How close is Tyresian in ascendancy?"

"To the Speakership?" Laurana looked surprised. "He's of the Third House. We are of the First."

"That leaves the members of the Second House?"

Laurana nodded absently. Flint pressed on. "How close is Tyresian in ascendancy, if he doesn't marry you?"

"Oh, about twelfth or thirteenth in line," she replied, then narrowed her eyes. "You don't honestly think it's Tyresian… Why, he's a member of the nobility!"

Deciding that Laurana still had a lot to learn about life, Flint abandoned the tack he'd been taking.

"How safe is Porthios?" he asked.

Laurana faced him again. "There are more than a dozen guards around the Grove. They can't see Porthios, but they could hear him if he called. I don't think anyone could sneak in, with them there."

Flint rose and strolled around the anteroom. Across the mantlepiece, Laurana kept a collection of whimsical dragon figurines. He picked up a golden one and examined it. "And Gilthanas will be with his regiment tonight? He'll be safe there, at least."

"Oh no, Flint," Laurana objected. "Gilthanas will be keeping a vigil at the Kentommenai-kath all night."

The phrase sounded familiar, but Flint had been exposed to a plethora of new elven terms in the past few days. "The Kentommenai-kath?"

"It's the spot overlooking the River of Hope, west of Qualinost," she explained.

Flint remembered; that was where he'd picnicked with Tanis and almost fallen to his death. "Gilthanas will have a guard with him, certainly," he said, bending one of the legs of the figurine. The softness of the metal proclaimed it to be pure gold. Laurana gently took the little dragon from him, straightened the leg, and returned the piece to the mantle.

"Gilthanas will have an escort from Qualinost to the Kentommenai-kath," she explained, seating herself again. "The guards will leave him, and he'll remain alone at the spot until sunrise. Then he will return to Qualinost alone, arriving for the final portion of the Kentommen."

Flint felt a hand of ice snake around his spine. "He'll be alone?"

Laurana's already pallid face became whiter. Her reply, when it came at last, was not a question. "He'll be in danger, won't he."

He waved her to silence and leaned both arms against the fireplace, staring into the flames. Finally, he turned and leaned over the chair where Laurana waited.

"Laurana," Flint said, "do you trust me?"

After a pause, she nodded. Her hair glittered in the firelight.

"Then listen," he said. "I have a plan."