“What is it?” Shanron hissed. She groped across the uneven ground to come up beside her.

“Not what. Who!”

“Oh, no,” mourned the guardswoman. “Not again.”

A voice, barely above a whisper, spoke out of the darkness. “Alley Cat?”

“Mica?” Linsha cried out. Shaken, she touched his face and felt his bearded jaw. “Mica, oh, gods of all. Hold still. Let me help.”

“No time,” he groaned. “Too late. No strength left to heal.” His words came out forced and so hoarse she could barely understand him.

“No, I can-”

But he didn’t hear her. His hand groped out and she took it, pressing it tightly in her hers. His skin was surprisingly cold.

“Listen,” he struggled to say. “Captain Southack told me. Ship captured by… Dark Knights. Crew deliberately poisoned… arcane magic spell. Passed by touch of skin on skin. Need-” He broke off in a long racking spasm.

“Mica, please,” Linsha begged. “Let me-”

His hand tightened around hers. “Need old magic to cure.

Find dragon.” His words grew more labored.

“Who did this to you?” Shanron asked.

Mica waited so long to answer that the women almost despaired. Then he gathered the strength from somewhere and managed to find an answer. “Skull Knight. Careful, Alley Cat. He plans to kill… Lord Bight at volcano… then signal ships. Stop him.”

Linsha sat back on her heels. She understood now. Her eyes hurt with tears unshed as she stroked his cheek. “It’s all right, Mica, you can rest. Thank you. I’ll take care of it,” she said, quiet and reassuring.

Her fingers felt his lips move in a slight smile. “Not bad… for a Knight,” he whispered.

She sensed his mind gradually fading until there was only emptiness. The tears slid down her cheek unheeded. Varia keened above his head.

Shanron shuddered at the sound. “Is he dead?”

“He was already dead. Only the vestiges of his mystic power kept his spirit here long enough for someone to find him.” She looked up at her friend and said as a tribute, “He was a Legionnaire.”

Shanron flung herself to her feet, propelled by driving emotion. “That’s enough! I’m up to my breastplate in whatever this mess is, so will you please tell me what is going on? What do you mean, he’s a Legionnaire? Who is Captain Southack? Who is the Skull Knight? Why would anyone kill Mica?”

“Have you got a light?”

The reasonable question took Shanron by surprise and quieted her barrage of questions for a moment while she thought. Then she pulled a flint and steel out of her pocket and dropped them in Linsha’s hand.

Using the tools and a pile of tinder, Linsha was able to light a tiny fire and put together a makeshift torch. Shanron watched in silent speculation.

With the feeble light, Linsha was able to see Mica more clearly and examine the dampness on his chest. She felt sick. “Not much blood,” she pointed out, opening his leather vest.

“Look. He’s been stabbed twice, just like Captain Dewald. Probably the same weapon.”

“Probably the same man.”

Linsha nodded. “Your captain was selling information to the Knights of Solamnia and got too close to this Skull Knight. Just like Mica.” She jerked his vest closed again, her grief and dismay plain in her voice. “Captain Southack was the captain of the Palanthian ship that brought the plague. My guess is, Mica used spiritual mysticism to summon the captain’s spirit, and he asked for information that wasn’t in the ship’s log. The Dark Knight must have ambushed him on the road to the palace.”

Shanron ground her heel into the dry grass and earth. “So who is this Skull Knight?” she insisted.

“I don’t know. All Captain Dewald knew was that he was in the guards.” Small tendrils of dread curled up her back.

“Poor Alphonse. He really went in over his head,” Shanron said mournfully. “So why did he give the packet to you, and what did Mica mean when he said, ‘Not bad for a Knight’? Who are you?”

Linsha knew revealing her covert status as a Knight with the order was a violation of her vows, but at that moment, she didn’t hesitate. Shanron was a friend and an ally and had already heard enough to put it together anyway. “I am a Knight in the Solamnic Order. I took the position of guard to monitor Lord Bight’s activities.” She leaned forward to look her friend in the eye. “But things have gone horribly wrong. Shanron, now I fear the lord governor is in danger, and I need someone I can trust to help me.”

Shanron didn’t reply at first. She stared, deep in thought, at Mica’s body. But Linsha guessed she saw another man lying there. “Will we find the Dark Knight that did this?” she asked at last.

“I hope so,” Linsha said fervently. She hoped there was no quaver of nervousness in her voice. While she was prepared to meet most Dark Knights, a Skull Knight trained in the evil arts of dark mysticism was a fearsome opponent and one she was not confident about facing alone.

“Count me in,” Shanron finally agreed. “Although this could be misread as aiding and abetting a forbidden order, I am technically protecting the lord governor.”

“Exactly.” Linsha closed Mica’s eyes, gave his hand a squeeze in farewell, and stood up. From the position of the moon, she estimated the night was three or four hours past midnight. There was little time to waste. Lord Bight had already made it known when he planned to remove the dome on the volcano, so it was logical to assume the Skull Knight knew of the decision and had already passed the word to the forces of the Dark Order. The ships Varia had seen could already be massing outside the harbor. Linsha rubbed her wrists where the rope had chafed the skin. Ian, where are you? she wondered, half afraid to know the answer.

Her eyes went to the palace, where torches burned at the pylon gate, then switched to the darkened, beleaguered city. Although she wanted to find Lord Bight, she knew where she had to go.

“Shanron,” she said, leading the other woman back to the road. “Take word to Lord Bight. Tell him about Mica and the ships. Warn him of the possible attack.”

“Where are you going?” Shanron demanded.

“To get some help. I hope,” she finished under her breath. At the look of doubt in her friend’s face, Linsha clasped her arm. “Trust me. I will not fail you… or Lord Bight.”

The guardswoman hesitated only a heartbeat. “All right. But when this is over, we’re going to have a long talk about secret identities and lying to friends.”

Linsha gave her a half smile and held up her hand as if giving an oath. “I promise.” She waited while Shanron waved and broke into a run toward the palace, then she turned and headed the other way.

“Come on, Varia. It’s time to put a chipmunk of our own on Lady Karine’s windowsill.”

The owl hooted a laugh and led the way back toward the city.

Chapter

The Souk Bazaar was closed for the night, and the streets were deserted by everyone hut the roving patrol of City Guards. Many of the booths sat empty, abandoned after their owners left the city or died, or the merchandise became scarce. The bazaar had a forlorn look about it that even the night couldn’t hide.

Linsha hurried after Varia to the shop of a small weapons merchant on the south side of the bazaar. Lady Karine ran the shop as her cover and lived in a small house behind it. She couldn’t be certain Karine was here this night, but it was the best place to start. As she expected, the shop was locked and barred, so she knocked discreetly.

She had to knock for several minutes before Karine’s apprentice shuffled into the showroom in a nightshirt, carrying a hand lamp.

“We’re closed!” he yelled across the shop.

Linsha peered through the little window in the door and tried to say, “I need to talk to Karine-”