"It's the same one, Lanjov," she said. "Dressed like a noble with black gloves. And it's not a masquerade."

It took a moment to quell the lingering vertigo before she could continue.

"He moves and speaks like one of you, and you're the only connection I can see. Why would any noble want to kill Au'shiyn and your daughter… anything, no matter how far-fetched or minor?"

The councilman looked utterly at a loss. "I don't know any reason. Au'shiyn was strong-willed, but respected by all."

"You're sure of all this?" Chetnik asked Magiere.

"Of course she's sure," Leesil snapped. "We need the name and home address of everyone on the council." He looked directly at Lanjov. "As well as anyone you've worked with through the bank who knew your daughter."

The pain that flashed across Lanjov's face brought Magiere another flicker of pity, but not nearly enough to overcome her frustration with the man's arrogant obstinacy.

"Captain Chetnik will take you to the council hall," Lanjov answered softly. "My aide will provide the information you require."

"Not enough," Leesil added, and he turned on Chetnik. "Shut the city down. Close it off."

Chetnik scowled, hands on his hips, but it was Lanjov who cut in first.

"We cannot do that!" he shouted. "This is the kingdom's main port. Thousands, no, tens of thousands here and elsewhere depend on daily trade through Bela."

Magiere's head swam with afterimages of her vision, making it hard to clearly follow what was being said. With a quick glance at Leesil, his words resurfaced in her mind, and she understood.

"We can't let these things out of reach," she said. "Will your precious trade continue if more bodies are found? What ship's captain would harbor here? And there won't be a farmer or merchant in the region who'd risk coming to market."

"So you'd lock us all in?" Lanjov retorted in panic. "This cannot be done."

"Yes, it can," Chetnik cut in.

Lanjov looked at him in stunned disbelief, but the captain continued.

"If any of these creatures escape, they'll move on to another town or cluster of villages. And the killing starts all over again." He looked at Magiere sternly. "But we're not doing this your way."

"How then?" Magiere insisted.

Chetnik cast one last glance at Lanjov, as if fed up with political influences.

"These things move only at night, correct?" he asked.

Magiere nodded. "We've never heard of or seen one move in daylight."

"Then night is the only time they can leave," Chetnik said. "Commerce continues for the day, and there's little or no business done past dusk. I'll double the watch by day and night, but we'll lock the city up only before dusk."

"Except the sewers," Leesil added. "Seal the bayside spillways and keep them guarded at all times."

Chetnik became immediately disagreeable. "If it comes to that, better to send my men into the sewers and flush these things out."

"If you want to lose half of them," Magiere replied. "You don't know what you're dealing with, and we don't have time to teach you, so stay out of it. Just tell your men to keep the bayside grates locked down."

Lanjov ran his hands over his face and through his hair. Chetnik finally nodded agreement.

"Take us to the courthouse. We need that list," Magiere said more calmly.

Chetnik didn't answer for a moment. "We still need to talk about the Rowanwood."

Magiere indicated the councilman with a lift of her chin. "They can pay for it."

When the captain looked up the steps, Lanjov nodded without a word. Chetnik stepped purposefully down the walk toward the wagon.

Magiere tried to follow but lost her balance, and Leesil caught her. This vision had been quick but more intense than the last.

"Looks like we're the villagers this time," Leesil muttered, as he half supported her down the walk.

"What?" Magiere replied.

"Au'shiyn's body… that mimic killing, even if it is the same creature," he said, but then saw that his answer still mystified her. "We're the ones being played. Someone's on the game here, and it isn't us this time."

The coach rolled up to the next house on their list, and Magiere kept her emotions in check. Flickering images of Au'shiyn's death and the little velvet cap hanging by a thread from the dead woman's hair drifted through her mind. Two more deaths, and they still had no clear idea where to find the undeads of this city.

Leesil believed the woman's blood had been consumed, but what if he was wrong about the third Noble Dead? Her visions were both of one, from what she'd could tell, and what if Sapphire had killed the young woman?

"I shouldn't have given up my sword at the Rowan-wood," she said to Leesil, bitterness in her voice. "I could have taken her head."

He turned from gazing out of the coach window.

"Forget it. You can't change the past-only alter the present and future."

His words pulled her out of her guilt. "Are you trying to spout wisdom?"

"It's true." He shrugged. "We can never change what's passed, no matter how much we might want to."

Without giving him the satisfaction of knowing it, Magiere felt a little better, though still somber. He was right, once again, and it was wasted effort to think otherwise.

"I want something to fight," she said.

He grinned. "I'm contagious."

"Sure," she muttered under her breath, "fleas, laziness, vices…"

"I don't have fleas."

He pushed open the door and stepped to the ground, pulling out bits of fabric from Sapphire's and Chesna's clothing.

"They're both lavender," he mused. "I never noticed that before."

"It doesn't mean anything"-she looked briefly at the scraps-"except they both had a great deal of coin to spend. Chap, come on."

Armed with a list of Bela's council members, but not ready to start pounding on the doors of the elite, they were counting on Chap. He'd tracked Miiska's undead to the warehouse, so they hoped he might sense something if they stumbled upon one here. One by one, they worked through half the list, moving from house to house as Chap sniffed his way around each building. But nothing had come of it.

Chap stepped to the coach door, eyes taking in the street.

"Come on," Leesil said. "To the house."

Leesil held out the cloth scraps, but the dog ignored them, hanging his head as if he had no further interest in their scent. He stepped out and walked up to the house's front gate, sniffed the iron bars a few times, and then trotted back to the coach and jumped in.

"Get your mangy backside out of there!" Magiere scolded. "This is important."

The coachman glanced over his shoulder as if they were all mad, and settled back in his seat.

Inside the coach, Chap dropped his haunches to the floor with a low, grumbling whine.

"This isn't it," Leesil said, the words spoken slowly, like a gradual realization. "He knows this isn't it-and he wants to move on."

"He's just a dog," Magiere answered in exasperation. "Smarter than most, I'll grant, but he can't possibly know what we're doing. He's merely tired of this, probably more than you or I."

But the moment those words left her mouth, she looked into Chap's translucent blue eyes and felt certain Leesil was right. This was indeed not the house.

She climbed back into the coach, snatched the list off the seat, and handed it to Leesil.

"Give the driver our next stop."

Chap crawled upon the seat opposite her, panting softly.

Au'shiyn's dying face peered back at Magiere each time she blinked or closed her eyes. And behind the Suman's sagging head, Chesna watched her with an ashen face.