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The whole tale sounded unreal, and yet, if there was no truth to the matter, how would Captain Dewald have known that chipmunks had any significance to her if Lady Annian hadn’t told him? She thought quickly over her options, then decided to trust in Shanron. “A dead chipmunk left on a certain windowsill is a signal that means ‘Come at once. Most secret.’ ”

A sound, somewhere between a gasp of disbelief and a laugh of incredulity, burst out of Shanron’s lips. She leaned forward, pulled a small packet out of her sling, and slipped it into Linsha’s lap. “Don’t tell me more. What I don’t know can’t be forced from me. Just take care of yourself.” She wiped her sleeve over her eyes and stood up. “I have sentry duty tonight, too, so maybe I’ll see you later.”

Linsha grinned and waved to Shannon as she sauntered away, then neatly slid the packet under her waistband. Curiosity consumed her, but she could do nothing about the packet until she was finished with the armor and could leave the hall. Impatiently she polished and buffed and hauled armor back and forth until the bell rang in the courtyard for the evening meal and she could gratefully put away the rags and the polish. She walked out of the training hall with the intention of slipping up to her room to open the packet and was intercepted by Captain Omat. The captain’s face was adamant as he led her into the dining hall and supervised her meal. She made a loud comment about baby-sitters, but he ignored her and waited for her to eat. As soon as she was finished, he escorted her to the Officer of the Watch.

“This recruit,” he told the officer, “is still learning the rules. Make sure she knows the regulations for sentry duty backward and forward.”

“Asleep fall not do,” Linsha responded promptly. The Officer of the Watch, a dour man with too many positions to fill and not enough guards, promptly sent her to the farthest observation tower in the eastern fortifications.

The blood-red sun eased below the horizon while Linsha and a squad of Governor’s Guards marched through the city to the guard camp. Darkness crept slowly out of the east to meet them. High haze and thin clouds obscured the sky, and only a slight wind stirred the dust and wood fire smoke above the city. The camp was busy with the changing of the guard and the return of the day patrols. At the easternmost end of the camp, before the squad reached the earthworks, Linsha saw a huge tent set aside as an infirmary. Here in the camp, the plague had struck hard, but sick guards were immediately quarantined, and unlike the harbor district where the Sailors’ Scourge spread out of control, the plague in the camp had remained within limits.

As ordered, Linsha reported to the northeastern tower and, with another Governor’s Guard, relieved the sentries on watch. The two City Guards showed them the signal flags, a farseeing glass, and the torches they might need.

“Keep a close eye on that beast,” one guard said. She pointed to the mountain. “Lord Bight instructed us to watch the dome for signs of molten lava, increased smoke, and any explosions.”

“Oh, fun,” Linsha remarked in a dry tone. “How do we let him know the peak is about to blow?”

The other guard indicated a round glass ball nestled in a box of cotton fluff. The ball contained a bright orange liquid and a wick that extended out of the ball. “His lordship said to light the fuse, throw it as high in the air as you can, and duck. But don’t touch it until it is needed,” he warned.

The City Guards departed for their meal and a needed rest, leaving Linsha and the second guard by themselves in the tower. The other guard was a middle-aged man, slim, capable, and utterly devoid of conversational skills. Linsha’s few attempts to talk to him were quietly rebuffed until she took the farseeing glass and retreated to the opposite end of the tower.

There was just enough ambient light left to use the glass, so, leaning on the parapet, she trained the long glass on the volcano. It loomed, stark and black in the gathering twilight, a sleeping giant about to awaken. Smoke wreathed its shoulders like a cloak. She looked for any signs of the infamous Temple of Luerkhisis that had once sat upon the western side of the mountain, but the hideous dragon-headed temple had been razed to the ground, and any remains were long gone. She lifted the glass a little higher to locate the cave where the red dragon, Firestorm, had her lair during Sanction’s occupation by the Knights of Takhisis, and that, too, seemed to be gone. Either it had been destroyed or it was obscured by the shadows of night.

She turned to the right and swept the glass over to the distant hills that led to the entrance of the East Pass. Tiny flickers of light marked the fortified camp of Governor General Abrena’s Dark Knights, who waited, ever ready to attack at a moment’s notice. Between them and the vale burned the golden dikes of lava, wide and deadly and more effective than any wall.

The hours passed uneventfully. The mountain remained impassive. The Dark Knights stayed in their eastern camp. If they sallied forth from the North Pass, Linsha didn’t see any indication of it. She hoped all was quiet in the city as well. After fires and raids and ambushes and sick civilians, both groups of guards needed a peaceful night.

Two hours after midnight, two new guards came to relieve them. They had no news to report and simply told Linsha and her companion to return to the palace. Linsha was happy to obey. The packet from Shanron still lay under her waistband, waiting for her to open it in a moment of privacy. She and the guard rejoined the others, and as a squad, they marched out of guard camp and moved toward the palace.

At the East Gate, the City Guards passed them through, all but Linsha.

“Squire Lynn?” called the officer on duty. “You are to wait here for further orders.”

The veteran guards laughed among themselves at the hapless squire and went on without her. Linsha watched them go in dismay. It was probably the doing of that blasted Captain Omat. She’d bet he had some other onerous duty for her this night.

But it wasn’t Captain Omat. Minutes later, a tall, familiar shape walked out of the darkness into the light of the gate’s torches. Unconsciously she straightened her shoulders and stared eagerly at his face while he had a few quiet words with the City Guard officer. The officer saluted his commander, and Ian Durne came to where she was standing. “Come with me, squire,” he ordered.

Curious and pleased, Linsha followed him at the proper distance along an empty street. As soon as they were out of sight of the gate, Ian ducked into a shadowed doorway and pulled Linsha in with him. His arms gathered her close, and his mouth closed hungrily over hers. A fire ignited in her body, and she pressed against him, meeting his kisses eagerly.

He broke off at last and clasped her face in his hands. “I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he gasped in her ear.

She laughed and kissed him again until their knees trembled and their bodies ached for each other. “Is there somewhere we can go?” she murmured.

He took her hand and pulled her along the sidewalk. “I was hoping you’d ask. I have a friend who has a house near the bazaar. He has kindly lent it to me tonight.”

Linsha said nothing more. She held his hand and ran beside him along Shipmaker’s Road to a large house set flush with the sidewalk. The ground floor held a tailor’s shop, but Ian led her to an outside staircase that led upstairs to a comfortable apartment. A small lamp glowed on the fireplace mantel in the front room, and several candles burned on a table set with plates of food and a flagon of pale white wine. In the back, Linsha could see another room with a large bed and more candles gleaming by the bedside.

She looked around with delight. “You planned all this?” she breathed. His only answer was another long, delving kiss.