“Will you be able to continue, Thero?” Klia asked, concerned.

“Yes, it’s just giving me a bit of a headache. I’m sure I’ll adjust.”

As they went on toward the palace, the former glory of the place was still more evident in fanciful stonework, delicate fountains in paved squares, and a few whole statues still standing on plinths above the streets. One was an intricately coiled dragon with one outstretched wing; another was of a tall man in robes and a strange apron carved with what appeared to be stars and sigils. Instead of a crown, he wore a diadem with four long rays flanking a disk cradled by a crescent. His face was long and gaunt, and his beard flowed down his chest in heavy waves and curls. His right hand was raised palm out, and he held a heavy-looking tome with his left. There was an inscription across the top of the plinth in a script only Seregil and Thero recognized.

“One of the Hierophants?” asked Micum.

“Yes, though we’re not sure which one,” Zella replied.

“Actually, the inscription, in Middle Konic, reads: ‘Sardomin the Sage, Builder of Wonders,’ ” Seregil told her. “From the inflection, I’d say this was built about fifteen hundred years ago.”

“You speak the language?” asked Zella.

“He speaks a lot of languages,” Micum said with a chuckle.

“As does Thero,” Seregil added. “What do you say? A contest to see who can decipher inscriptions first?”

“Perhaps another time,” the wizard replied.

Alec felt a vague sense of foreboding as they continued down the broad avenue that cut through the center of Menosi—a feeling that only increased when he caught a hint of motion from the corner of his eye. A dark figure ducked into an alleyway between the ruins of two buildings.

“I think there’s someone over there,” he murmured to Seregil.

Wheeling their horses, they rode to see who was sneaking around. The walls that formed the alley were intact, and it dead-ended against another wall. The shadows were deep but at the far end Alec could make out a young girl kneeling with a knitted shawl pulled close around her narrow shoulders. She was crying.

“What’s wrong, miss?” asked Alec. He dismounted and walked slowly down the alley so as not to alarm her.

She looked up at him, her face thin and dirty, and said something that he didn’t understand.

He took out his handkerchief and held it out to her. She hitched a sob as she took it and wiped her face, then disappeared before his eyes.