Thero put the rat back into the trap with the others and looked at the little lock of hair floating in the bowl, then at the marble from the other bottle. “If both bottles held souls of the children who gave him these items, then the one holding Mika, which was without the central symbol, must be made differently, allowing the soul to escape. The symbol on the other may trap the soul in the water.”

“You mean you just fed the soul of some poor child to a rat?” Elsbet exclaimed in horror.

“Perhaps,” Thero replied, none too happy at the thought.

“So Atre and Brader must get some benefit from eating souls,” Seregil said with disgust.

“The question is, what benefit?” wondered Alec.

“At this point I don’t give a damn about that, only how to stop him doing the same to Illia!” Micum gritted out. “We have to find the bottle containing Illia’s soul before he—” He broke off and put an arm around Kari as she began to cry.

Leaving Micum behind to rest—or more likely, fret—Seregil went to the Crane with Thero and Alec. As he’d expected, the theater was deserted. They found their way in through a poorly secured side door but even with the help of Thero’s spell, they found nothing magical inside.

The welcoming fragrances of bacon and tea greeted them at the inn. Ema was making breakfast, though the house was empty except for them.

“You should eat,” Thero told the others.

“I’m not hungry,” Seregil mumbled, continuing on ahead.

“Well, I am, and the others, too, most likely,” said Alec.

Ema loaded a tray with rashers of bacon, hot oat cakes, a jar of honey, and a large pot of tea. Thero carried it and followed Alec upstairs.

Seregil had collapsed into one of the armchairs with his face buried in his hands, heedless for once of how dirty they were. Micum stood gazing into the empty fireplace.

“Oh, no!” gasped Alec, starting for the bedroom door.

“No, she’s just the same,” Micum told him.

Seregil sat back and ran his fingers through his hair. “We’ll search the house tonight while they’re onstage.”

“And if it’s not there?” asked Thero.

Seregil snorted. “Then I’ll personally torture Atre until he tells us where it is.”

“I’ll help you.” Thero poured the tea and handed the cups around.

“So we burgle Atre’s house tonight,” said Micum.

“Yes,” Seregil replied. “If we don’t find what we’re looking for, we drive our prey, and pray to Illior that Atre or Brader leads us to the right bottle, and Elani’s things.”

Micum rested his forehead in his hand. “Why are they doing this?”