“It’s not just people’s homes,” the Sapphire said. “Merchants reported that anything they’d acquired from Zuulaman to sell is gone. Books, pictures, pottery. Doesn’t matter.”

“The Queens are wondering if some kind of spell had been woven into the items so that they’d vanish after a certain amount of time,” the Red added. “They’re wondering if we’re going to end up buying the same books and bits of crockery over and over again.”

Which confirmed that the Ambassador had made sure at least some of Dhemlan’s Queens were aware of the trade agreements before he disappeared.

They waited now, watching him.

An ember of dread kindled in his belly, but he didn’t let them see it. “I’ll tell him.”

He watched them walk back to the landing web. Waited until they’d caught the Winds to go back to their Queens. He looked up at the sky, judged the daylight. Still enough time before twilight, even though he’d be heading east.

He strode to the landing web, caught the Ebon-gray Wind, and headed for Zuulaman.

Chapter 11

11

The baby stopped crying.

Saetan took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. His body ached right down to the bone. As he raised his right hand to brush back his hair, he noticed the ring. The Black Jewel looked dull. When had he drained it? And why? He brushed fingers over the Black Jewel that hung from a gold chain around his neck. That one, too, was drained. Only a few drops of power remained, just enough to keep the Jewel from shattering. He must have drained it. He was the only one who could drain it. But . . . why?

His vision kept going in and out of focus. One moment he could see clearly, the next the room looked muzzy and gray.

Food. Water. Sleep. He needed all of those things.

Slipping off the stool, he moved stiffly through corridors, swore quietly as aching legs climbed stairs. Dimly he realized his body was moving through the Hall up to his suite. Dimly he heard his voice, hoarse and strained, give orders to have food, water, and wine brought to his room. Dimly he was aware of stripping out of his clothes and stepping into the shower—a new variation of the Eyrien outdoor water tanks warriors used to clean themselves after a battle—and letting hot water pound against his skin while he braced himself against a wall.

Still lost in the mental twilight, he was also aware that he had climbed twisted roads within his own mind and now stood on one side of a familiar border. Still on the misted side of that border, where it was quiet. He wasn’t ready to cross that line back to sanity. Not yet.