“Sandreena,” said Pug, standing to welcome her. “We had word you were approaching the island.”

She nodded, suddenly wishing she had taken up Jason’s offer, for she was filthy, probably smelled like horse, sea-salt, and sweat, and now she stood in the midst of what was obviously a very important meeting. Pug motioned for her to take a seat at the end of the table, next to Magnus, and she complied.

Pug said, “That is all that we have for you now. Please go back to your designated tasks, but be ready. The call may come any moment.”

The score or more of people who were sitting in the semicircle stood, and several of them winked out of sight instantly. A couple of others vanished moments later, while still others filed out one at a time through another apparently invisible portal. Finally, Sandreena was alone with Magnus, Pug, and Amirantha.

“You have something to tell us?” asked Pug.

Sandreena nodded. “Creegan has gone to Rillanon, most likely to be named Grand Master of the Order. He left me in charge in Krondor and then left me with this report”—she looked at Pug with suspicion—“which I warrant you’ve already read.”

“A copy,” said Pug.

“There was no one else I could trust to go investigate, so I went.”

“What did you find?” asked Pug.

“Very few answers. Many more questions. I’ll tell you in detail, but first I need to know: did I just walk into a meeting of the Conclave?”

Pug nodded slowly. “The end of a meeting.”

“There are more of you than I thought.”

“More than we want people to know, even our friends in some cases. But it was necessary to call them here.” Pug stood up.

“To brief them?” asked Sandreena, rising as well.

“No, to instruct them,” said Pug. “Those you saw are leaders of groups we have hidden all over the world. But we must begin to marshal our resources.”

“Marshal?” asked Sandreena, her fatigue making her mind sluggish and uncertain of what she was hearing.

“We’re going to war,” Amirantha said. “And it’s going to be the bloodiest, nastiest fight this world has seen, in all likelihood.”

Sandreena sat back down.

Gulamendis said, “It should be near here.”

“How do you know?” asked Laromendis.

“The author gave travel time. I know how long it takes the average human to ride his mount—”

“What if he was on foot?”

Gulamendis threw his brother a withering look. “He mentions riding. I assume, given the abandoned stables back at the keep, it means riding horses.”

His brother conceded. “Go on.”

“I compensated for that, factored in how much this landscape has changed, and how long it would take us to walk the same distance…” With his hand he made an encompassing arc. “Somewhere, near here, we should find it.”

“What exactly are we looking for?” asked his brother.