Disclaimers: see part 1, chapter 1

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By Jane Fletcher

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The grasslands were the billowing contours of a green sea that rippled in the wind. Huge herds of deer and wild horses dotted the plain. The sky hung overhead like an upturned bowl of flawless blue. No landmark had broken the horizon since the Barrodens had sunk from view. The uniformity of the scenery gave the impression of not moving, although the miles rolled by beneath the horse's hooves. Swapping mounts allowed them to rest one horse at a time and increase their speed. The only sign of other travellers was the spreading fans of wheel ruts on either side of the Rzetoka ford. Even these were soon lost in the trackless grasses.

In late afternoon, nine days out from the ruins, Tevi and Jemeryl reached the brow of a low ridge. The land before them fell away into a broad river valley. Tevi shaded her eyes against the sinking sun. To the east, a dark smudge stained the green.

"I think that's Uzhenek." She pointed it out.

It took a while for Jemeryl to pick out the distant city. She grinned at Tevi. "I did a really good job with your eyes. Do you think we'll make it by nightfall?"

"Easily."

Once down the gentle incline, the two women urged the horses into a brisk canter across the flat valley floor. A pair of parallel furrows through the grass grew thicker and deeper as more tracks converged, becoming a road. After an hour's riding, the city was gaining depth and substance. The nearest buildings detached themselves from the confused mass, although the sun in their eyes reduced the shapes to washed outlines ringing a gentle hill.

They entered the outskirts of the city. On either side, the road was packed with an untidy line of shabby round huts made from rotting straw. Further from the highway, the structures became ever more primitive, until the crude shanties gave way to tents and horse pens. Decaying rubbish filled the spaces between the shelters. The place seemed more like a temporary encampment than a city.

Sprawled outside the miserable dwellings were large numbers of fair-haired men and women, gossiping among themselves or calling to neighbours. Their clothes were brightly coloured but filthy, bearing signs of much wear and repair. Many folk looked the worse for drink. Children ran shouting through the dust, dirty, half-naked and unkempt. Nobody paid any attention to the two women riding past.

The whole town held an air of bored lethargy. Only by the horse pens was there any real activity or display of enthusiasm. Groups hung around the rope barriers, voices raised loud in ardent bartering and betting. The horses alone looked clean and well cared for. What appeared to be several races were in progress on the plain beyond. Some onlookers even had the spirit to cheer their favourites.

Jemeryl was pleased. "We did very well. We must be days ahead of Levannue's caravan."

Tevi nodded, though her thoughts were on the scene around her. "Uzhenek isn't quite what I was expecting. The traders I met in Horzt spoke of it like the town was worth visiting. From what I can see, it comes a poor second to the rougher parts of Torhafn - and that's saying something."

"The traders would have been referring to the citadel, which I'm also looking forward to." Jemeryl grimaced at the squalid surroundings. "I'll agree this bit isn't too good."

"Why do the people stay here? There's no shortage of space and plenty of game to hunt. If I were them, I'd be out in the open country."

"It's safe and easy. The Empress Bykoda has ruled these parts for nearly fifty years. Before her time, these people were nomadic tribesmen - nomadic mainly because they were always fleeing one danger or another. After Bykoda made herself empress, she gave the region stability. And this is just an outlying town - her main capital is Tirakhalod to the north. She's got a reputation for being a despot, but no worse than most others of her ilk. Whatever it might be like now, the folk here will be worse off when she dies - which won't be much longer. She's getting old."

"What will happen to her empire then?" Tevi asked.

"Based on past experience, there will be a futile power struggle between several junior sorcerers before the whole place gets overwhelmed from outside. It will be an awkward time. Bykoda has been a good neighbour to the Protectorate."

The ground was rising as they approached the dark mass of the citadel, enthroned on its lonely hill. Tevi felt her mouth go dry when she studied the jagged battlements and high towers looming above the shantytown. By now, the road under the horse's hooves was paved with slabs of dressed stone, clean and weed free. The wretched press of huts ended abruptly and the two women emerged into the open, fifty or so yards from the gates of the citadel.

Black walls rose smoothly, without the trace of a join, as if carved from a single rock. Towering above all, the solid gatehouse stood foursquare and imposing. The teeth of the portcullis framed its open mouth.

Tevi felt a wave of awe wash over her. She reined her horse back. "It's a bit overwhelming." Her voice betrayed her in a squeak.

"Partly because of the glamour spell that Bykoda is projecting. I can lift it from you if you want." Jemeryl was gently amused.

Tevi shook her head at the offer. "Maybe later. At the moment I think it adds to the effect."

A dry moat, spanned by a bridge, separated the citadel from the straw huts. On both sides of the road leading to it was a line of tall wooden stakes. There were a dozen or so, each one mounted with a small round object. As she neared the first post, Tevi took her eyes from battlements, intending only a quick glance. A shock like a kick to the stomach jolted her in the saddle. Each pole bore a severed human head. Old blood, dried brown, stained the wood beneath the trophies. Tattered skin drooped in shreds from the necks. Slack jaws hung open.

After a long silence, Tevi said quietly, "On the islands we give fair burial even to enemies and criminals. You said Bykoda was a good neighbour. What are the rest like?"

"Worse." Jemeryl's voice was tight.

"She knows how to make an impression. Let's get inside the citadel - or is there likely to be more of the same?" Tevi coaxed her horse forward down the grotesque aisle.

The eyes of the first head snapped open. "I was a traitor. Do not do as I did. Be loyal to the empress Bykoda." The words were rasped between agonised gasps.

The head on the other side joined in. "I was a murderer. Do not follow my example. Obey the laws of the empress Bykoda."

At the sound of the first voice, Tevi stared around wildly until her eyes fixed on the talking head. Her lips pressed hard together, fighting down nausea. Her knuckles were white as she shook the reins, imploring her horse to continue.

However, Jemeryl came to a standstill, a look of questioning wonder on her face. "That's amazing." She slipped from her saddle and stepped up to the nearest head. "I would never have thought of doing that."

"Of course you wouldn't. It's foul." Tevi was appalled.

Jemeryl waved her hand. "No. I mean the technique. It would never have occurred to me to use the upspin currents of the sixth dimension like that."

"Jem!" Outrage battled with confusion in Tevi's voice.

Jemeryl was too intent on the impaled head to respond. The sorcerer raised a forefinger to the chanting lips. As sharply as if the strings of a puppet had been cut, the confession stopped mid-word and the semblance of life vanished. The features sagged, so flaccid as to lose the bearing of humanity. An alarm sounded from beyond the gate.

Tevi leapt from her horse and grabbed Jemeryl's elbow, jerking her back to the present. Sounds from the gatehouse alerted them to the guards spilling onto the bridge, swords drawn. Tevi's hand started to move to her own weapon.

A quick shake of the head from Jemeryl stopped her. "They won't attack if we don't do anything else to alarm them."

"We?" Tevi's emphasis held a reprimand.

"I'm sorry, I got carried away." Jemeryl apologised.

"I thought we didn't want to attract attention."

"I know, I'm sorry."

The guard formed a line, two deep, across the width of the bridge. They marched forward in formation to make a cordon around the two women. Their movements were precisely synchronised without audible word of command. The footsteps fell as one. When they finally snapped to attention, the soldier's faces were frozen, inhumanly devoid of emotion. Even to Tevi's ungifted eyes, it was obvious they were enslaved.

"What do we do now?" she hissed at Jemeryl.

"I think we wait."

"Until?"

Jemeryl gave a shrug. "Someone with a brain to call their own gets here."

* * * * * *

It seemed like hours before an official, dressed in black and silver, appeared at the gates. He studied the scene for a few seconds before walking sedately towards the group assembled on the road. With precise, mechanical movements, the line of guards parted at his approach. Tevi was ignored. The official stopped before Jemeryl and gave a curt formal bow.

"Greetings Sorcerer. I am town steward for the empress Bykoda. Her imperial majesty wishes to speak with you."

"Please, lead the way." Jemeryl answered as if nothing unusual had occurred.

No further words were offered. The steward returned across the bridge at an unhurried but purposeful pace. It was clearly taken for granted that Tevi and Jemeryl would follow obediently and not cause trouble. The three horses were left by the gatehouse but no attempt was made to remove their weapons. None of the guards were called on to accompany them.

Inside the walls, the reasons for Uzhenek's reputation became obvious. The road through the citadel was paved with slabs of soft blue light. The buildings rose in delicate tiers. The structures were too ethereal to be capable of supporting their own weight. It was architecture that could only be created by magic.

The citadel was beautiful but Tevi was too appalled by the scene outside the gates to take any pleasure from it. Above all else, it was Jemeryl's reaction to the undead heads that tore at her. She walked along, her eyes fixed on her feet. In the past she had often been bewildered by her lover's abilities, but never before had she felt alienated. If asked beforehand, she would have staked her life that Jemeryl would be as horrified as herself.

At first, Jemeryl was absorbed in the sights. When she did notice Tevi's withdrawn manner she clearly misunderstood. "Don't worry, we're not in danger. Bykoda isn't about to get into unnecessary conflict with the Coven, even if I did break one of her toys." Jemeryl whispered.

Tevi could not help flinching at the word 'toy'. From Jemeryl's tone, it might have been a row of daffodils outside the gates.

Jemeryl carried on, oblivious. "I'm a bit surprised if she's actually here in the city. I didn't think she'd left Tirakhalod for years."

"What will she want?" Tevi forced herself to speak.

"Probably just to know why I'm here. It will be alright if I tell her the truth. A renegade Coven sorcerer is the last thing she'll want running around. Bykoda will be more than glad to take up my offer to remove Levannue from her lands."

"As long as she's not in league with Levannue."

"Unlikely. She would have to trust Levannue not to usurp her empire, and Bykoda hasn't survived for as long as she has by trusting anyone."

The steward led the way through another set of gates. The top of the hill was a bare field of rock, devoid of a single blade of grass. Crouched at the very summit, was an immense round building, obviously styled on the huts of the townsfolk but dwarfing them in scale. It was carved from the same black rock as the city walls. A circle of flying buttresses ringed the hall, like articulated legs. It gave the impression of a huge black spider, brooding and waiting. A broad flight of stairs swept up to the entrance in a small domed extenuation at the front of the main building. It looked like a head and added to the spider effect. Jemeryl's attention was caught again and she broke off her words, leaving Tevi to her bitter reflection.

The interior of the anteroom was lit from an unseen source that cast more shadow than light over walls and floor of polished black marble. Shapes in carved relief on the pillars were lost in the darkness, leaving no more than the idea of interwoven swirls. Tall guards stood on duty everywhere. Straight-ahead, were huge double doors of embossed silver, which swung open of their own accord. Jemeryl strode forward, unworried. At first, Tevi held back at the thought of what might await them but, despite her confusion and distress, she was not going to let Jemeryl face it alone.

The scale of the main hall was breathtaking. The circle of pillars that ringed the perimeter faded away into the gloom on the far side. Interspersed alternately were silent, black-clad guards and silver tripods holding burners. Heavy plumes of incense billowed in shafts of milky daylight. The window were high in the dome. The centre of the hall was empty, except for a raised dais where the silver statue of an elderly woman sat on a simple throne.

The steward halted just beyond the pillars and indicated that Jemeryl should carry on. When Tevi began to follow, the steward reached out to stop her. She threw off the restraining hand but was then swamped by uncertainty and settled for taking another three steps. She watched uneasily as Jemeryl walked on alone.

A dozen paces before the dais, Jemeryl came to a stop and rotated through 360 degrees. She appeared intrigued rather than impressed. As she came around to face the statue again, a faint sound, like a sigh, came from its lips. Slowly, joint by joint, a tremor of articulation rippled through the silver figure.

With the most deliberate of movements, the statue raised its head and spoke. "Greetings sorcerer. I am a projection of the Empress Bykoda, the unquestioned ruler and high sorcerer of these lands from the Barroden mountains to the gulf of Czeskow. Might I be privileged as to know your name?"

"I am Jemeryl, oath-bound sorcerer of the Coven of Lyremouth." She gave a short formal bow.

"From Lyremouth?" The statue's voice held the merest suggestion of a question. "I hold the Coven and its Guardian in high regard and trust we may always maintain the convivial relationship between our two lands. Do you come from Lyremouth as an envoy?"

"No, that is not my mission. In fact, when I left Lyremouth it was not envisaged that I would come here. Yet, I know the Guardian would want me to express her appreciation of you and your courteous dealings with the Coven, that has been to our mutual benefit."

The words of both sorcerers, while not exactly insincere, reminded Tevi of the initial exploratory parries of fencers.

Bykoda's next question was more direct. "May I enquire about the nature of the mission that has brought you to my lands?"

"It need cause no concern to you, or any of your subjects. One of our sorcerers has turned traitor. I think she may have fled here."

"How disconcerting for you. What do you intend to do once you find her?"

"Capture her with the minimum of fuss and return with her to Lyremouth."

"If you wanted to take her by surprise, you made a rather conspicuous entrance to the citadel."

For the first time, Jemeryl looked off balance. "It's unlikely that she will yet have reached here, but I admit my behaviour was unwise."

"Upsetting me was certainly not a good first move."

"Please accept my apologies." Jemeryl paused for a moment, before her enthusiasm broke through in a blatantly genuine rush of words. "I'm afraid I totally forgot myself when I saw your warders outside. It was an inspired use of the upspin currents. I've never seen anything like it before. The idea was elegantly simple, yet very effective. I was impressed, really, deeply impressed."

The statue's laughter echoed around the hall. Tevi could tell the atmosphere changed subtly, as if a decision had been made, or a truce called. Jemeryl stood more easily.

"Spoken like a true Coven sorcerer. Too busy playing with magic to keep sight of your goal."

Jemeryl sighed ruefully. "I fear you're right on this occasion. I was overwhelmed by admiration. I just had to know how you made it work."

"You think I could teach the Coven a few tricks?" The statue's voice was lightly ironic.

"I think you could teach the Coven a lot, if you were willing."

"And what could the Coven give me in return?"

"What does the Coven have that you want?"

"Nothing."

"Then we have no basis for a trade."

The statue was silent for a while. "When I was younger, I thought the Coven sorcerers fools or cowards, running at the beck and call of the ungifted. Now that I'm getting older, it doesn't seem so clear cut. I wonder if I might have missed something - not that I'd change a thing if I had to do it all over again. 'Empire' is a wonderful game to play. You live and die by your own strength and skill; no rules and no boundaries."

"We all make our own choices."

"Or maybe it's that not everyone enjoys playing the same game. And some people expend so much effort failing to reach the strangest of goals. You might almost think they are frightened of winning." The statue tilted its head to one side and studied Jemeryl thoughtfully. "I would have said you had the talent to win. I just wonder what game you're playing in the Protectorate."

"Such as?" The initial verbal fencing had returned to Jemeryl's voice.

"You may be motivated by concern for your fellow human-beings. Or you may get satisfaction from working for something that will exist long after you're dead and buried." The statue's tone became more pointed. "Or maybe you dream of being Guardian one day and having hundreds of powerful sorcerers under your rule, rather than merely the ungifted masses."

"Maybe." Jemeryl made the word sound more like agreement than equivocation.

"It's an interesting prize to play for." the statue said thoughtfully.

"But not one that has tempted you?"

The statue shook its head. "It's too restricted a game for my tastes. I never could stomach playing by other people's rules, biding my time and keeping my nose clean. I'd have ended up like this poor fool you're chasing, who hasn't toed the line and is about to be dragged back to Lyremouth for punishment like a naughty child. She has my deepest sympathy - but don't worry, I'm not going to try and stop you. I'd be a fool to let her stay here. I've never let pity cloud my better judgement. I'll even offer you assistance. My steward will give you a talisman. Show it to anyone in the city and they will let you pass without hindrance. Although, of course, I will be watching you."

"Thank you." Jemeryl hesitated, biting her lip. "I suppose you wouldn't want me to examine the heads again. I really am fascinated to know how you do it."

The statue laughed again. "Capture your traitor and remove her from my lands. Then, if you want, come to me at Tirakhalod and I will instruct you."

The laughter drifted away, muted and hollow, as if coming from a great distance. The life drained out of the statue in a visible wave, leaving a frozen silver shell sitting in state in the middle of the empty hall. The audience was ended.

* * * * * *

Tevi and Jemeryl were escorted to a solid hostelry by the southern gates of the citadel. The rooms were large and well furnished, to the point of being a gratuitous display of wealth. Even the carved doorstop had inlays of gold and mother-of-pearl. Stony-faced servants brought their saddlebags and other belongings. The same servants made ready the room with clean bedding, fresh water for washing and wine to drink, and then, without a word spoken, they bowed and left.

Once they were alone, Jemeryl opened the window to admire the view of shimmering turrets and delicate archways. The light flowed over the rooftops with a subtle rainbow sheen. Tevi was quiet and withdrawn. She dropped down onto a cushioned bench and stared at the panelled walls.

"What to you think of Uzhenek now?" Jemeryl asked over her shoulder; her voice bubbled with excitement. When there was no answer, she turned around. "Are you alright?"

Tevi shrugged.

"Tevi, what's wrong?" Jemeryl left the window. She slid onto the bench and put her arm around Tevi's shoulder.

"I'm reconsidering my views about sorcerers." Tevi spoke without turning her head.

"Why? Was there something about Bykoda that upset you?"

"And you."

"ME!" Jemeryl was shocked. "Tevi?"

"I've been thinking about all the wealth inside the citadel, and then what's outside. Not just the heads - the stinking poverty in the camp and the guards not even free to use their own minds. It's worse than slavery. For the first time, it made me see the gulf between sorcerers and the rest of us. And you and Bykoda seemed so much a pair."

"Nearly all of the citadel is pure illusion, a play with coloured lights to impress the ungifted. There's no real wealth here. If you could see this room without the overlay of magic, it's actually rather plain and shabby. And I don't agree with the way Bykoda rules her lands but I couldn't allow myself the luxury of moralising. It wouldn't have done any good and I had to get her support."

"You were full of admiration for the way she keeps the heads alive. You didn't seem to see them as people, just an interesting use of magic. It is evil and callous. I just don't understand you, Jem."

Jemeryl reached out and pulled Tevi's face around so their eyes met. "They weren't real heads. They were fashioned from soft resin - not that I think Bykoda would have hesitated to use real ones if it was the only way to achieve her aim, but the resin would avoid any problems with decay. Bykoda was using a very original way to animate the shapes. That was what surprised me. There was no savagery involved. Nobody was hurt. Wanton cruelty is usually a sign of madness or insecurity, and Bykoda isn't either."

"You wanted to learn how to copy her - why?" Tears started to Tevi's eyes. "To frighten people into obeying you?"

"Partly because it's so inventive, and partly because I thought it might be possible to use the technique to make artificial limbs. It could be useful to your colleagues in the guild - they're so good at loosing the ones they were born with." Jemeryl spoke very softly. "Please Tevi, I know it must be hard sometimes, but trust me."

Tevi's distress gave way to confusion. "Why didn't you say before?"

"I'm sorry. I forgot that you couldn't see things for what they were."

There was silence for a long while. Tevi shifted around and rested her head on Jemeryl's shoulder. There was comfort in the contact, although some nasty questions still pricked the edges of her mind. One in particular slivered to the front.

"Was it also true what Bykoda said - you're only in the Coven so you can become Guardian one day?" Tevi mumbled the question. "And the only reason you want to be Guardian is so you get to order other sorcerers around, because the ungifted don't count for anything?"

"It was once... to some extent." Jemeryl admitted. "And I do still want to be Guardian. Bykoda is very astute. But it isn't the only thing that motivates me, and there are some prices I wouldn't pay to achieve it."

"Do ungifted people, the Protectorate citizens, really matter to you?"

"I can't pretend to care passionately for millions of people I've never met, and I don't believe you do either. However, I can honestly say that I wish them well and will always try to do my best for them."

Tevi closed her eyes, and pushed the other nagging doubts away. "I guess that's the best we ungifted can hope for from our sorcerers."

"I could give you another, more specific thought about me, empires and one particular ungifted person."

"What?"

Jemeryl pulled Tevi into a tight embrace. "How about that I'd happily swap all Bykoda's empire for one night in your arms?"

* * * * * *

Tevi rested her elbows on the parapet of the wall and considered the view. Just below the balcony where she stood with Jemeryl, a fountain shot brilliant plumes of coloured spray into the air. The water was faintly luminous in the encroaching dusk. Musical chimes sounded as the breeze stirred trees with leaves of gold and silver.

"Could you create a city to look like this?" Tevi asked. It was something she had wondered several times over the previous six days, while they had been waiting for Levannue.

"I could copy it, but it would be a lot of work for something I've got no use for. Even Bykoda has it only for show. It keeps the tribes awe-struck and submissive. It couldn't support a population like a city in the Protectorate. No more than a hundred people actually live in the citadel, and they're here purely to deal with visitors." Jemeryl swept her arm to indicate the whole expanse. "Only five or six buildings in the whole place really exist."

"It's still very pretty."

"I find it disconcerting. I keep seeing through the illusions. Even where the basic structure is real, the work is crudely functional. Bykoda just overlays a glamour of luxury and she doesn't do it very thoroughly. In the Protectorate, we're used to working for an audience of other sorcerers so we take the trouble to carry the illusion through other dimensions and tidy up the edges. Bykoda doesn't bother with all of that. Most of her work looks appallingly slipshod to me, but then other bits are breathtakingly imaginative".

"Like her audience hall?"

Jemeryl gave a snort of laugher. "Maybe not that."

"What was wrong with it?"

"Oh, the illusion was up to the quality of the rest of Uzhenek, but it was a child's fantasy of a necromancer's castle. I'm only surprised she didn't have a pet griffin by her feet and a row of hooded priests chanting in the background."

"Well, speaking on behalf of the ungifted, it was overpowering." Tevi said, grinning. "Is there anything here that is real?"

Jemeryl moved to an adjacent balcony with a view of the land beyond the outer wall. Farmland and orchards stretched down to the banks of the river on the western side of the city.

Jemeryl pointed to the fields. "That is. Bykoda organises the tribesmen to do the work, then uses her magic to control the irrigation system. She inhibits the growth of weeds, destroys pests and ensures a bumper crop each year. That's why there's an encampment outside. Here, the tribes can find safety and abundant food and water... and they also provide a ready army should Bykoda need it."

Tevi shaded her eyes to study the fields of stubble where corn had been harvested. However, any further questions were curtailed when Klara swooped down to land on her shoulder.

"A wagon train has just reached the outskirts of the encampment. Unless you want to hang around and shake her hand, perhaps you should get out of sight before Levannue sees you." the magpie said.

The two women hurried back to their room. Jemeryl threw herself onto a couch. "Wait here. I'm going to transfer my senses to Klara. I want to be sure Levannue is on the caravan."

"Can't you send Klara on her own?"

"I could, but I'll feel happier if I'm there myself."

Klara settled on Jemeryl's arm. Bird and sorcerer locked eyes. Between one breath and the next, Jemeryl became motionless and dropped into a state beyond mere sleep. Klara twitched her head, as if trying to dislodge an itch from the back of her neck and then she extended her wings and flew to the open window.

She perched on the ledge and looked back into the room. "Wish me luck."

"Take care Jem."

"I will."

The magpie departed in a flash of black and white. In the quiet that followed, Tevi paced the room, pausing repeatedly to look at the comatose sorcerer. The shadows in the chamber thickened. In the distance were sounds of voices, the creek of wooden wheels and the clop of hooves. Cautiously, Tevi peered from behind the edge of the window shutter. Wagons were stopped at the end the street and surrounded by workers who were unharnessing the horses and dragging loads from the tailboards. Tevi could not pick out Levannue's nervous gait among the people moving about in the gathering dusk.

She walked back to a chair and sat down beside Jemeryl's motionless body. It was impossible to relax. With each passing minute, the knots in her stomach grew tighter. Her heart almost leapt up her throat at the sound of something rushing into the room behind her. Tevi spun about. It was only Klara reappearing at the window. On the couch beside her, Jemeryl opened her eyes and sat up.

"She's here."

* * * * * *

"I wish to see the innkeeper immediately."

It took only a quick glance at the talisman to send the night porter scuttling off across the dimly lit lobby, his bland, youthful face comic in its overdrawn display of alarm. The rapid patter of his footsteps faded down an unlit passageway and was replaced by cold, tense silence.

Tevi watched the stocky figure disappear. "The talisman certainly gets a response. I wonder what its significance is?"

"We're probably happier not knowing." Jemeryl's voice was clipped.

"You sound worried."

"Of course. Levannue is far more experienced than me and I can't see her surrendering quietly. Plus, I'm handicapped in that I feel duty-bound to try and capture her alive, while I'm sure she won't feel anything like the same restraint with me."

"You said you'd be able to cope with her." It was a plea for reassurance.

"I should - if I've got a staff in hand and she hasn't, and I get surprise on my side."

"She's returned to her true form; that must mean she isn't expecting us."

"Or maybe she now has good reason to be confident." Jemeryl countered grimly.

Tevi did not want to think about the possibility. She set off on a circuit of the lobby. After pausing to peer suspiciously into the dark opening that had swallowed the porter, she finally stopped at the main door.

Night was now well advanced. The Uzhenek display of sculptured light had softened to a warm, fluorescent glow. Streets and courtyards were deserted, but high above the rooftops, the silhouettes of sentries paced the battlements. As she watched their slow procession, Tevi wondered whether the bodies and masonry were real or illusory.

Whispers and the sound of footsteps announced the return of the night porter, trailing in the wake of an older man, so like him as to surely be his father. Both were thickset, with round flat faces and fair hair pulled back in braids. The main difference was that the son's muscle had turned to flab in the father. Red bleary eyes further impaired the older man's appearance. He was still in the process of tying a long robe over his bulging waist as he entered the lobby. He wobbled to a halt a few feet from Jemeryl and eyed her and the talisman with alarm.

"Can I help you ma'am?" he said, gulping audibly.

"You are the innkeeper?"

"Yes ma'am."

"An elderly woman is lodging with you. She arrived this evening. Thin, about my height, with short grey hair. You may even have noticed her wearing an amulet like this..." Jemeryl held up arm so that her sleeve slipped down. "Although she was probably keeping her wrist covered."

"Yes ma'am, I know who you mean." The innkeeper's anxiety increased visibly at the sight of Jemeryl's amulet. He would have dealt with enough travellers from the Protectorate to be aware of its meaning.

"I want you to lead us to her room." Jemeryl fixed the man with a grim stare. "But very, very quietly. It would be best if she didn't hear us coming. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

The innkeeper looked as if he understood only too well. His whole body was twitching as he led the way along a wide corridor. Light from the lantern he held lurched wildly through the darkness beneath the vaulted ceiling, magnifying the shaking of his hands. Tapestries on the walls gleamed with rich colour where the light fell, but the shadows in the folds dissected the pictures, leaving a montage of heads, arms and half-animals.

The innkeeper stopped outside a door. He pointed to it with an over-dramatic gesture and then nearly tripped in his haste to back away. His clumsy retreat drew fierce glares from both women.

Jemeryl stood in front of the door and studied it intently. The fingertips of one hand traced the edge of the frame, without making contact with the wood while her other hand held her iron-tipped staff level with her eyes. As her examination progressed, the frown deepened on her face. At last, she drew back and indicated, with a sharp jerk of her head, that Tevi and she should go back to the lobby to talk.

"What's wrong?" Tevi asked once they were there.

"The door is barred on the inside. That wouldn't be a problem in itself, but Levannue has placed alarms across the higher dimensions. I can't open the door by magic without alerting her."

"Are you going to break the door down?" The innkeeper hovered nervously to one side. Both women ignored him.

Tevi gazed back up the corridor. "I suppose she's locked the windows as well."

"We could go outside and check, but I'm sure she will have."

"And there wouldn't be a wide chimney, or anything like that?" Tevi looked at the innkeeper as she spoke.

"No, we don't have fires. Bykoda herself heats the inn directly by her magic arts. She..." The innkeeper got no further.

Jemeryl interrupted. "Impossible! Do you think I wouldn't know if Bykoda was shunting that sort of load through the sixth dimension all the way from Tirakhalod. Don't be stupid. They'd probably sense it in Lyremouth."

The remnants of the innkeeper's composure dissolved. "It's not proper magic..." His squeaky voice failed. "I'm not supposed to tell visitors."

"What?"

The innkeeper's eyes darted to the talisman "The floor is raised on short pillars. We've got a fire in the stoke room and hot air is drawn through underneath. The whole inn gets heated without any trace of a fireplace. We like visitors to think it's magic. In winter, the fire burns continually but at this time of year we let it go out at night, otherwise if you touched the floor you'd feel the warmth."

Tevi knelt and rested her fingers on the ground, as if testing his words, but her thoughts were moving on. She picked at the join between two flagstones and then looked up at the innkeeper. "Would you have a crowbar to hand?"

"You're thinking we could get in that way?" Jemeryl asked while the innkeeper still stared blankly at Tevi.

"Well I could. Once I'm below Levannue's room I'll be able to push up from underneath. Would it upset the alarms if I then opened the door to let you in?"

"No, only magic will trip the wards."

"The floor-stone will be much too heavy for you to lift." The innkeeper's words seemed to escape his mouth against his will.

"That will be my problem." Tevi said.

"But..."

"We would like a crowbar." Jemeryl's statement left no room for argument.

The innkeeper's son was dispatched. He reappeared shortly, bearing a long metal bar, wedged at one end. The innkeeper fluttered around indecisively. There was no mistaking his relief when told to stay in the lobby.

Tevi and Jemeryl returned to Levannue's door. The flagstones of the floor were of nearly a yard square. To Tevi's eyes, they appeared to be of close fitting limestone, polished to marble, the work of a skilled craftsman. To her surprise, Jemeryl, had no trouble inserting the flat end of the crowbar.

"You did that by magic?" Tevi whispered, looking anxiously at the doorway.

"No - as I said before, the workmanship isn't really very good. I can see around Bykoda's attempt to hide the cracks." Jemeryl's face held a wry grin.

Tevi took over with the crowbar. The flagstone shifted with a dull pop and then rose to the faint grinding of grit. Once it was high enough to get her fingers under, Tevi lifted the flagstone clear and rested it against the wall behind.

Warm air rushed out of the hole, carrying the rich smell of wood-smoke. Beneath the flagstones, a forest of stubby stone pillars stretched off in all directions, disappearing into the pitch-black void. Between the ground and the raised flooring, was a gap of over a foot. Tevi studied the crooked avenue of pillars leading under Levannue's room, then slid her feet and legs into the opening.

As she was about to lie back, Jemeryl reached out to squeeze her shoulder. "Take care."

Tevi smiled stoically in reply.

The ground and pillars were hot to the touch. It was not enough to cause burns, although the smoky, heated air stung Tevi's eyes. Space was tight. The gap between the supporting pillars was barely wide enough to allow the passage of Tevi's shoulders. The ground was too rough to slide over. It was slow progress, fought for inch by inch, wriggling worm-like on her back. The light vanished as she moved away from the entrance hole. In the dark underworld, all sense of distance was lost.

Tevi kept a hand on underside of the flagstones. It felt as if they had expanded to several times their true size. Tevi's sweat-drenched clothes clung to her. The thick air rasped in her throat with each breath. She tried to focus on her task, but Tevi felt a bubbling hysteria that threatened to break into her sanity. In the back of her mind, a voice screamed that she was trapped, buried alive without even the room to roll over. Tevi fought to ignore it.

At last, Tevi felt the joint marking the start of the fifth stone - four hard-won yards. It was far enough from the wall of Levannue's room to be clear of any furniture around the edge. Tevi braced her hands against the paving above and pushed. The stone did not budge. Suddenly, Tevi was desperate to be out of the suffocating, claustrophobic prison. She pushed again, borrowing strength from the rising wave of panic. This time, the flagstone shifted slightly - the promise of escape.

A second, strenuous effort let in a rush of cold air to play over the sweat on Tevi's face. A thin line of moonlight, dazzling after the darkness, broke along the crack and then widened into an open expanse of night. No sound came from the room above. Abruptly, Tevi's imagination pictured Levannue, standing in the chamber, silently watching the moving flagstone.

Tevi pushed away the taunting fantasy. There was no going back. She braced her knees against the underside of the flagstones for purchase and raised her shoulders off the ground, her arms locked rigid. It strained every muscle in her legs and stomach. To her ears, the scratching of stone on stone seemed deafening, even louder than the pounding of her heart.

Tevi found she was inside a large room, some way to the left of the door. Moonlight flowed in through a pair of tall windows, throwing the ornate furniture into silver relief and shimmering off the drapes around a huge four-poster bed. Just as Tevi started to relax, a sound from the behind the curtains ruptured the silence - a raw sound, swelling in volume, to a low feral growl. Every muscle in Tevi's body jerked but, after a moment more, her lips pulled back in a mirthless grin, mocking her own nervousness. She recognised the sound as heavy human snoring. To Tevi's right, was a fur rug, an ideal cushion on which to lay the flagstone with the minimum of noise - once she managed to loosen her fingers from their death-like grip.

The bolts on the door made only the faintest, metallic squeak as Tevi eased them back in their mountings. When the door was pulled open, the hinges made a similar sound. From the expression on Jemeryl's face, it was clear that the long wait in the corridor had held its own strains. Jemeryl clasped Tevi's hand, before digging an iron collar out of a bag on her hip. She passed it over.

The rasping snores did not falter. Jemeryl met Tevi's eyes for a last supportive exchange. She moved resolutely towards the bed, gesturing for Tevi to take up position on the other side. Cautiously, they pulled back the curtains. In the centre of the bed, Levannue lay encased in folds of sheets and blankets. Her head was completely hidden between large round pillows. It would not be easy to locate her neck. It was hard even to be certain which way up she was. Tevi was struck by a simpler solution to the problem of dealing with the traitor, involving the use of a sword, but killing in cold blood did not fit well with her conscience.

On the other side of the bed, Jemeryl held her staff above the sleeping woman and looked over, waiting for Tevi to signal her readiness. Instead, Tevi shook her head and mimed the words, "Where's her neck?"

Jemeryl frowned as she studied the sleeping sorcerer. Their plans depended on catching Levannue by surprise, preferably without waking her. They certainly could not afford the time to scrabble about in the bedclothes.

Jemeryl reached out to gently shake Levannue's shoulder with one hand. "Excuse me for disturbing you, ma'am, but Bramell wants to see you right away." Jemeryl spoke with a servant's deference.

"What..."

Lost between dreams and reality, Levannue pushed herself up in the bed. Her eyes searched about wildly until they fixed with disbelief on Jemeryl and the staff in her hand. Suddenly, Levannue's body seized, freezing with a visible wrench, as if time had missed a step.

"Now Tevi!" Jemeryl called, her voice straining with the effort.

Tevi sprung forward, diving across the jumbled bedding with the open jaws of the iron collar held before her. The air felt viscous, heavy with the field of Jemeryl's spell clamping down on her victim.

Tevi did not need to be a sorcerer to sense Levannue fighting back, tearing through the ether to rip at the bonds that held her. The air changed to static. The hair on Tevi's arms stood upright and the smell of ozone filled her nose. Levannue's hand shot out and Jemeryl stumbled, half falling. The staff slipped from her hands as Levannue broke free of the spell - but too late. Before the dropped staff had hit the floor, Tevi had snapped the two halves of the collar shut around Levannue's neck.

Continued in chapter 5.

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