“It does seem to be a habit of ours,” she agreed with a dry laugh. “Were you looking for me?”

“I came to find the militia and to tell someone what we have found.”

“Who is this ‘we’?”

The life seemed to drain out of him. His shoulders sagged and his hands fell to his sides. “We are all that is left of my troop-three of us, the younger ones who got thrust to the back during the heat of the fighting to help the wounded, retrieve arrows, and run messages. We were running errands for our lord when our lines were overwhelmed. We found each other but no one else. We tried to go back to our position and were cut off. It wasn’t until late last night that the Brutes moved on and we were able to get into the barricades to see… they were all dead. Uncle Caphiathus… everyone. The wounded, too. All killed. The Brutes left no one.”

His voice sounded so grief-stricken that Linsha moved beside him and put a hand on his wither. His hide was grimy and wet with sweat, and he smelled of smoke, blood, and sweaty horse.

“No one but you three. Caphiathus would be pleased you survived.”

Leonidas did not seem to hear her. “Since then we have been hiding. Watching.”

Linsha’s ears pricked up. “Watching what?”

“Those painted warriors mostly.” He shuddered. “They are brutally efficient.” He paused and looked up the trail to the Wadi. “Is anyone else still alive? Where is General Dockett? A scout found us and told us some soldiers were coming here.”

“He was right. They’re in the Wadi. The General and Falaius are planning a counterattack. We must try to destroy Thunder’s totem.”

“You mean that horrible pile of skulls?”

Linsha grabbed his arm in excitement. “Yes! Where is it?”

“In the palace. We were in the gardens this afternoon trailing the Brute general. He came to talk to Thunder and was there when the dragon brought in the first few skulls.”

The Rose Knight heard an insistent meow and felt the tomcat twine around her ankles. She picked him up. “Thank you, Leonidas,” she said and strode purposefully toward the feeble glow of light to the south that marked the Missing City.

Her sudden move took the centaur by surprise. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“To the palace.”

“But what about the militia?”

“They are busy. They have much to do before they can attack an unarmed camp, not to mention a conquered city. What they need is information.”

He swung around in front of her and offered a hand. “Then get on. I’ll take you.”

She took it and, clutching the cat, mounted his strong back once more. “Crucible, this is Leonidas. He has helped me several times these past ten days. Leonidas, this is Crucible. Remember what he looks like. It may be important. And don’t be deceived by his size.”

“Are you talking to me or him?” the centaur asked as he moved smoothly into a canter.

“Both of you.”

Behind the centaur and his rider, a small shape detached from the rock outcropping and flew noiselessly after them.

The ancient elven palace was ablaze with the light of hundreds of torches and watchfires as if the images of Gal Tra’kalas had returned and were holding a gala in the gardens and courts of the long dead prince. Soldiers-mercenaries and Brutes alike-camped in the courtyard, guarded the walls, marched along the paths, and stood sentry at every observation point.

Leonidas gave the palace a wide berth and plunged into the shadows of the gardens. He found his companions on the south edge of the ruins, keeping a watch on the road from the city. After a quick introduction, the two told Linsha what they had learned so far. Their tale impressed her. These three centaurs barely out of colt-hood had survived the battle and managed to avoid capture while spying on the dragonlord and his minions.

Phoulos, a bay with a black mane and beard of sorts, continued. “Thunder is collecting these skulls from his lair on the Plains. We think he’s putting them in the throne room, but we can’t get close enough to look.”

“Did he bring them all in one trip?” Linsha asked.

“No,” answered the third stallion, a lighter bay named Azurale. “He won’t trust anyone else to do it.”

Phoulos snorted. “Or he doesn’t have anyone else to do it for him. Even his own kind avoids him.”

“Right. So, he’s made two trips so far, and he left again just a short time ago.”

Linsha rubbed her face, careful to avoid the bruise by her eye. “So the palace is empty?”

Azurale nodded. “Of him. There’s guards everywhere. His journey usually takes about four hours.”

“That’s plenty of time. If we can get through the tunnels, we can get into the lower levels of the place and take a look at these skulls.” Linsha swung her leg over Leonidas and slid to the ground where she gently put the cat down. “Let’s check the door first.”

She led the way to the tumbled building she knew well now. The entrance was there behind the vines and ferns and undergrowth, unguarded and still open.

The centaurs stared suspiciously at the black doorway. “Don’t worry.” Linsha smiled. “You don’t have to go down there. I will. I just want one of you to guard the door for me.”

But the orange cat hissed at her and blocked the way. No. I will go down there. lean pass through ways you cannot and remain unseen.

Linsha started at the words in her head. “Are you sure?”

The centaurs looked surprised. They hadn’t heard the cat. For an answer, the tomcat flicked his tail and limped into the doorway. In a blink he moved out of sight.

“Interesting cat,” observed Leonidas.

Linsha and the centaurs stood about the doorway in an awkward silence while they tried to decide what to do next. Around them a few insects buzzed in the grass, and a cool breeze swept through the trees. A waning moon gleamed yellow over the hills to the east.

Linsha couldn’t stand the quiet. She had come here to do something, not wait around for Crucible. “Leonidas, you said the Brute general came to talk to Thunder. Is he still here?”

Phoulos answered, “Actually, yes. The Brutes set up a command headquarters in one of the other buildings. The general goes back and forth between here and the city.”

“Hmm. I wonder if he knows-”

“Knows what?” Leonidas said eagerly. “What are you thinking, Lady?”

She studied the centaurs, her expression tight with concentration. “I think we’ll take a look around. Would you be willing to help me?”

All three centaurs nodded vigorously. They had not planned to avenge their kin by running away.

“Good. Then listen.” Talking softly, she told them what she wanted to do.

Finding a mercenary alone proved harder than Linsha expected. All the ones they found still awake and on guard either moved about in patrols or stayed at their posts with their companions. It was a long frustrating time before she and the centaurs saw a mercenary stagger out of one of the buildings and make his way into the woods to relieve himself. Fortunately for them, he had had more than his share to drink and he wandered farther into the groves than he intended. It took only a matter of moments to snatch him, break his neck, and drag him into the undergrowth. Linsha quickly pulled off his tunic with the crude blue emblem on the sleeve, his pants, which were a little too big for her but cleaner than her own filthy clothes, and his boots. He wore leather gauntlets, a broad studded belt, and a padded vest, too, which she added to her disguise. The only thing he did not have was a helmet or a hat, but Phoulos had a leather cap he gave to her to hide her curls. When she was finished dressing, Leonidas declared she looked every bit a mercenary.