“Unless, of course, the entire garrison is wiped out,” Lanther commented from his blanket.

Linsha had to wrench her thoughts back to what he had just said. “What?”

The Legionnaire put his hands behind his head. “If the entire Solamnic garrison is wiped out by some disaster, you won’t have to worry about the blacklist,” he pointed out.

Linsha wasn’t amused. “I don’t want my reputation cleared that way.” She rubbed her eyes. The excitement of the escape had worn off, and she felt like something the cat left on the stoop.

“Just a thought.”

“I’ve been through this before,” she explained. “I will regain my rank again.” She said it with more hope than conviction.

Mariana’s pale oval face turned toward her in surprise. “Again? Do the Solamnics make a habit of blacklisting you?”

Lanther made a hard, scornful sound. “Forget them. Join the Legion. We will take you any time you say the word.”

Linsha leaned back against the warm stone wall without answering and let her eyes slide closed. While she admired the Legion and respected their work, the Solamnic Order was her heart and soul and had been in her blood since she was old enough to hear the tales of Sturm Brightblade and her uncles, Sturm and Tanis, who died in the service of the Order. She was not yet ready to turn her back on the Knighthood no matter how often it tried to get rid of her.

Someone pressed a cup into her hand. Without opening her eyes, she inhaled the rich fruity fragrance of a red wine vinted in Mirage and drank it to the dregs. Her cloak was pulled warmly about her shoulders. Lethargy stole over her, warm and languorous and heavy with sleep.

But true sleep came only fitfully and was beset by bad dreams and visions that appeared and vanished with irritating abruptness. Pictures formed in her mind-her family; her brother, Ulin, standing on a strange-looking promontory and staring at the sky; her aunts, Laura and Dezra, standing at the top of the stairs of the Inn of the Last Home; her father, Palin, and her mother, Usha, saying nothing and looking grim. These images would glow with perfect clarity like flashes of lightning and then be gone.

Worst of all were the visions of the wind and the storm and the ambush. She could see the pounding rain, the slick, drenched ground, the ruins, and scattered glimpses of the Knights as they struggled with their foes. She saw Sir Morrec try to rally his men with his call. The black, indistinct figure lunged at her, and she saw again the blade sink into his chest. Then she saw the second man who stalked her. In one brief and brilliant illumination of memory, she saw the form who leaped out of the darkness and swung at her head with a short, heavy club. Something about him seemed familiar. His stance or the way he moved or something about his build-Linsha did not know, and her dreams did not give her clarification. They only teased her with hints of memory filled in with gleanings from her imagination.

She had only dozed there for two short hours when Mariana shook her out of the strange dreamworld. She came out of it slowly like a drunk out of a stupor, and when she pulled herself upright and forced her eyes to open on a new morning, she felt more exhausted than she had before her rest. The dreams faded away.

“Sorry to wake you so soon.” The half-elf looked down at her with sympathy. In the clear light of morning a quirk of her dual heritage was revealed. Mariana had one blue eye and one green eye as clear as gems. Come,” she said. “We must get you out of sight.”

Linsha accepted her hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Pain shot through her neck and arms from the uncomfortable position she had kept the past few hours. Groaning, she stretched her tight and weary muscles. This had been a very difficult six days. She would have given anything for some of her grandmother’s tarbean tea and a huge plate of eggs and ham from the Inn’s kitchen. Instead, Mariana handed her a steaming cup of Khurish kefre strong enough to strip the hair from hides. She tasted it and grimaced, then dumped the contents down her throat. It flowed down hot and powerful and jolted her tired body awake.

“If you feel as terrible as you look,” the captain suggested, “perhaps we should get you a healer. The bruises on your face have turned a charming shade of green.”

“Thank you,” Linsha said with a weak grin. “Any more of that kefre and I’ll need a healer. Where is Lanther?” She pointed to the empty space on the ground where his blanket had been.

“He left a while ago. He said he would be back to get you, so look around while you can.”

She considered asking if she could investigate on her own, then promptly answered herself. No. There were too many guards and militia around the palace grounds who considered this their territory. They would not favor someone else poking around the place to look for evidence of their missing dragonlord-at least not without their help. Perhaps later, if she did not find anything of significance here-and she really did not expect to-she could slip away and try to find the entrance to the labyrinth where the water weird guarded the stairs. Iyesta had said the brass dragon scale would allow her to enter the passages safely.

She took a deep breath. The morning was fresh and cool with a sharp breeze from the sea. No clouds marred the perfect sky. It was a beautiful day to do anything but evade capture and explore an underground labyrinth.

She picked up two lanterns from a pile of gear and lit them with tiny flames from the cooking fire.

“I’ll not leave yet,” she said to Mariana and handed her a lantern. “Let’s go this way.”

The two women walked out of the courtyard and made their way across the wide ruins to one of the lushly overgrown gardens. Several other militia and guardsmen joined them until they had a group of eight striding along behind them.

“Do you know of a series of passages under the palace grounds?” Linsha asked.

Mariana nodded. “Iyesta did not like anyone to go down there because she kept her treasure in the large chamber under her throne room, but most of us know about it.”

“Has anyone gone down there recently?”

The half-elf grew thoughtful. “I know a group of the dragon’s guards went downstairs through the throne room entrance to be sure the treasure was intact. We feared Iyesta might have taken her treasure and left for good.”

“She didn’t.”

“No. Nothing was touched and there was no sign of her.” Mariana looked around curiously at the path they took. She was a tall, well-balanced warrior who was fiercely loyal to the dragonlord and the militia, and someone who took her job very seriously. She had made it her business to know every inch of the grounds of the palace, yet she knew of no reason why Linsha would bring her to this particular area. “What do you know about the passages?” she demanded.

“That they are much more extensive than mere passages under this palace,” Linsha said.

She slowed down along a narrow path and scanned the crumbling, ancient buildings around her, looking for the one she remembered. Then she saw it, its doorway nearly lost in a mass of vines and flowering creepers. She led the way inside and found the steep stairs that led downward. The others followed silently.

The light swiftly faded behind them, and the damp, cool darkness took over. Linsha held her lantern high and found the right passage that led downward into the labyrinth.

The half-elf chuckled mirthlessly at the stone walls around her. “I did not know that entrance was here. I wonder what other entrances she had hidden around.”

Linsha was about to reply when she noticed something slightly different. She stopped so fast, the captain behind her bumped into her back and jogged the lantern in her hand, sending shadows jigging madly over the walls. Fearfully, Linsha pushed the lamp into Mariana’s hand and strode forward several paces where she could be away from the smoke and smell of the burning lantern. She sniffed the dank air slowly and deliberately, and she caught it again-a faint smell that had not been there the few days ago when she came this way with Iyesta.