Fingers brushed her hair. “What if I offered you a kingdom?”

Closing her eyes, Cerelinde shuddered at the touch of a Shaper’s power. With Godslayer to hand, he could remake her very flesh if he willed it. “You would not, my Lord Sunderer,” she said. “While I live, I am a threat to you, and I do not believe that you will let me live for long, let alone offer me power. I am not a fool, my Lord. I have made my peace with it. I am not afraid to die.”

“No.” The Shaper withdrew, his voice contemptuous. “Only to live. Will you cling to this Prophecy with which my brother Haomane Shapes the world? I tell you this: You are not the only one, you know, daughter of Erilonde.”

“What?” Cerelinde opened her eyes. “What do you say?”

“Oh, yes.” Lord Satoris smiled, a fearful thing. “Elterrion the Bold had a second daughter, gotten of an illicit union. Somewhere among the Rivenlost, your line continues. Do you suppose such things never happen among the Ellylon?”

“They do not.” Cerelinde drew herself up taut.

“They do upon very rare occasion.” The Shaper’s eyes glittered with red malice. “It is a pity your people dare not acknowledge it, Lady. The weight of the world might not rest upon your shoulders if they did.”

“You lie,” Cerelinde whispered.

Lord Satoris shrugged, the movement disturbing the shadows. “More seldom than you might imagine, Lady,” he said, regret in his tone. “These things lie within the purview of the Gift that was mine, and they are mine alone to know. Although the Ellylon themselves do not know it, I tell you: There is another.”

“Who?” Cerelinde leaned forward, forgetting herself. “Who, my Lord?”

He eyed her, slow and thoughtful. “I will tell you, in exchange for knowledge freely given. The Three would see you put to questioning. I, I merely ask, Lady. What is the purpose of Malthus the Counselor?”

He would ask that; he would Cerelinde hid her face in her hands, wishing she knew the answer. Whether she gave it or not, at least it would be a bargaining chip. With a bitter sense of irony, she remembered Aracus’ words in Lindanen Dale. It is for a short time only, my lady. Malthus knows what he is about. She wondered if the Wise Counselor had known what would befall her, and prayed it were not so. It was too cruel to contemplate.

Surely, Aracus had not.

“I don’t know,” she murmured through her fingers. “I don’t.”

Satoris waited until she raised her head to look at him. Reading the truth written in her face, he nodded once. “I told them as much. Very well, you may go. We will speak anon, Lady.”

“All three?” Cerelinde swallowed. “All of the Three would see me questioned?”