"Come along. We had better leave this place," she said dragging the old man toward the hole in the wall. "Per- haps you would be kind enough to guide me to the Jail- gates?"

Sixteen

Deep in the Jailgates' thick founda- tions, Ruha caught herself staring at Yanseldara's cataleptic face. The Lady Lord lay in an infirmary bed, a honey- haired beauty with the slender face and sharply delicate features of a half-elf. Save for the amethyst circlesbeneath her eyes, her skin was as pale as pearl. Her cheeks were hollow from the lack of eating, her lips as gray as ash, her brow lined by the strain of a wicked and endless nightmare. She could easily lack the strength to carry a message to Lady Feng, even if Vaer- ana would agree to try Hsieh's potion.

Ruha turned to the Lady Constable who, despite hav- ing been knocked through a mud-brick wall by Cypress's tail, sat in a chair next to Yanseldara's bed. A priest had already examined and straightened the swollen purple mass that had once been Vaerana's knee, but Minister

Hsieh had volunteered to sew up her many deep cuts. He was sitting beside her now, smiling contentedly each time he pushed the needle into a long gash along her jawline.

Ruha said, "Vaerana, I am sorry to interrupt while you are being attended to, but we have something to discuss."

"Please to wait until I finish here," said Hsieh. "Or scar will be most unflattering."

The mandarin's voice was hoarse and raspy, no doubt from breathing the dusky smoke that pervaded even the fortress's underground chambers. Elversult was burn- ing-a good part of it at least-and there was no escap- ing the acrid murk. The fumes hung over the city as heavy as a fog, creeping past shuttered windows and seeping under barred doors to fill every room in every building with a choking gray cloud.

Perhaps that was a blessing, given the battle stench upon which Ruha would surely have been gagging if her nose had not been so clogged by bitter soot. With wounded

Maces sprawled on the floor as thick as rats or holding each other upright on wooden benches, the chamber looked less like an infirmary than a crowded tavern after a vicious and bloody brawl. Through the smoke haze, the witch saw bandaged stumps where there should have been limbs, melted flesh bubbling up between the links of scorched chainmail, and a hundred more wounds too ter- rible to look upon for long. Many of the warriors had suf- fered their injuries when they rode with Vaerana to lure

Cypress away from Ruha and Hsieh, but many more had been hurt in cult ambushes. Even now, with Elversult's loyal citizens struggling to fight the fires Cypress had set in his flaming panic, more than a dozen patrols of Maces continued to battle the marauding bands.

Given the mild severity other own wound, Ruha would have felt guilty for the healer's attention she had received the moment she walked in the door-save that her battle was far from over. Her sun spell had driven Cypress into one of the city's many lakes, but it had not destroyed him. Until the dragon was finally, utterly annihilated, the witch knew better than to think either she or Yansel- dara would ever be safe.

Minister Hsieh looped his needle through the last stitch on Vaerana's jaw, then cut the suture. "You may speak now." He stood and began to cut the hair away from a long slash in her scalp. "But I advise you not to move head."

Vaerana scowled at the cascade of blood-matted tresses tumbling past her shoulder. "Are you going to cut it all off?" she growled. Then, to Ruha, "Well?"

Ruha glanced toward Yanseldara's slumbering form, then reached into her aba and removed the potion Hsieh had given her earlier. "If we are to finish this battle, we must contact Lady Feng."

Vaerana shook her head, then hissed sharply as

Hsieh's needle dragged across her wound. "You can see for yourself she's in no condition to be carrying mes- sages." She gestured at the bed beside her. "Besides, we've got Cypress well in hand, thanks to you-though I

wish you hadn't helped him burn down a quarter of

Elversult."

"One does not destroy great evil without great sacri- fice," Hsieh remarked.

"We have not destroyed anything," Ruha corrected.

"Surrounding Cypress while he hides in Hillshadow Lake is not having him 'in hand.' It is offering up Pierstar Hal- lowhand and his men to appease the dragon's rage."

Vaerana frowned at the witch. "Didn't you listen to the last report. Witch? Cypress lost his wings, along with his hands-and underneath that baby sun you made, who knows what's happening to his head? Pierstar has ballis- tae and wizards waiting on every shore. As soon as the dragon shows himself above water, they'll blast him to pieces." She glowered at the witch, then added, "And they won't burn down the city."

"It would not matter if they did," Ruha replied. "You gain nothing if Pierstar destroys the dragon's body.

Cypress will simply take another; then we will not know where he is until he returns as he did before. To truly defeat our enemy, we must allow Minister Hsieh to con- tact Lady Feng and ask her to smash the dracolich's spirit gem."

Vaerana set her jaw. "Yanseldara's too weak. I'm not going to risk her life. And even if we only destroy Cypress's body, at least we're buying time to find his lair."

"But what of Lady Feng? Perhaps she has no time."

Hsieh stopped sewing and glanced at the bed next to them. "Perhaps Lady Yanseldara has even less. If Lady Feng uses oil from evening-picked blossoms, love potion does not last long. When it wears off, her spirit must do battle with the dragon's."

Vaerana craned her neck to look up at Minister Hsieh, then swore as the movement jerked the needle from his hands. "Don't you give me any Shou double-talk! You're only trying to worry me."

"Vaerana, what he says sounds very true. Why are you being so stubborn?"

No sooner had the witch asked the question than she realized the answer. The Lady Constable felt responsible for Yanseldara's condition-she had told Ruha as much shortly after their first meeting. On some level, at least, Vaerana wanted to redeem herself by becoming the Lady Lord's rescuer.

Vaerana glowered at both Hsieh and Ruha for a moment, then folded her arms across her chest. "I'm not being stubborn." She leaned back to let Hsieh finish stitching her scalp shut. "I'm being careful."

"Yes, it is good to be careful." Ruha nodded thought- fully, then stepped over to Yanseldara's bed. "She does look very weak, does she not. Minister?"

"It does not matter. Danger is from choking on potion Even weak bond can carry message between body and spirit."

"But Yanseldara needs extra strength to battle

Cypress, does she not?" Ruha allowed her eyes to pivot toward Vaerana, then raised the potion in her hand. "Or did I misunderstand you when you gave me this?"

If Hsieh perceived Ruha's intentions, his face showed no sign of it. He frowned slightly, then said, "I think you do misunderstand, Lady Ruha. I say not to worry about

Cypress, because we give Lady Yanseldara strength."

Ruha breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Yes, that is right I had forgotten."

"What are you two talking about?" Though Hsieh had stopped sewing, Vaerana remained surprisingly still. "Is there some way to make this safe?"

"More safe," Hsieh said. "But small risk always remains."

Ruha saw the interest fading from Vaerana's eyes.

"The greatest risk, of course, would be to you," Ruha added quickly "If Cypress caught on-"

"I don't care about the risk to me!" Vaerana twisted around to look at Hsieh, who deftly released the needle to keep from tearing her wound. "What will it mean to Yanseldara?"

"She draws strength from your spirit," Hsieh said, expounding on Ruha's fabrication. "Much better for her."