The tattoo faded away as they studied it.

What the hell? Fuad growled. He jumped to another assassin, hacked his clothing. Nothing on this one. He went to the third. Hey. This ones still alive. Again he cut cloth. And hes got the same mark.

Gamel. Send for the physician, Yousif ordered. Maybe we can keep him alive long enough to get some answers.

While they were looking at the tattoo, Haroun collected one of the daggers. A blue nimbus formed round his hand. He held the flat of the blade to the light of a lamp.

What are you doing? Yousif demanded. Put that down.

Its harmless, Father. The light is just a spell unraveling.

What?

There was a spell on the blade. This one includes Uncle Fuads name. Im trying to read the rest, if youll let me. Its hard. Its fading away, and its in the language of Ilkazar.

If theres sorcery...

The blue is the sorcery giving up energy as it decays, Father. Because the knives cut the wrong men. Theyre just daggers now.

Harouns assertions did not reassure Yousif. Put the damned thing down.

He just died, Fuad said of the third assassin. Oh. There it goes.

The mans tattoo faded in thirty seconds.

What are we into here? Yousif asked the air. The air did not reply.

Harouns shaghûnry instructors confirmed the boys comments about the daggers. Spells had been placed on the blades to make even a slight cut fatal. But they could make nothing of the vanishing tattoos. Nor could they, with their most potent conjuring, determine whence the assassins had come.

The physician determined that the men had taken drugs. And everyone could see that they had bound their limbs and genitals tightly, severely restricting circulation. They had been both fearless and immune to pain when they had attacked.

Whoever sent them has himself a potent weapon, Radetic observed. Yousif, youd better tell the gate watch to stay alert.

Once the excitement died and there was no other concern to stay him, Megelin knelt over Muamar and wept. You were a true friend, old warrior, he murmured. Thank you.

Fuad, of all people, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He was a good man, Megelin. Well all miss him.

The teacher glanced up. He was surprised to see a tear on Fuads cheek. He was my weapons master when I was Harouns age. As he was Harouns. For Fuad that seemed to be ample explanation.

The man called Beloul, who, subjective centuries ago, had escaped the disaster at Sebil el Selib, examined the dead men. He was now one of Yousifs most savage captains. In his time, too, he had gone back into Sebil el Selib as one of the Wahligs spies.

These are El Murids men, he said. This one is Shehab el-Medi, a captain of the Invincibles. He was almost as crazy as the Disciple.