AS KIRISIN ENTEREDthe chambers of the High Council, following close on the heels of Maurin Ortish and flanked by Simralin and Tragen, a heated debate was taking place. Various members of the Council were trying to talk over one another, and the King was shifting his dark gaze from one to the next, looking as if he would like to see all of them dropped into a deep hole and covered over. He didn’t notice the newcomers right away, his attention on something that Basselin was saying to a tall, sharp-featured woman whose name Kirisin could not remember.

The Council chambers were layered in shadows, the light reduced to a few wall lamps and a series of glow sticks hung from the rafters. It appeared that the meeting had begun in daylight and no one had bothered to do anything about the failing light when it had gotten dark. There was an air of desperation and distraction to the proceedings, reflected on the faces of the Council members and in the intensity of their words. No one seemed to have the attention of anyone else. No one looked the least bit happy. Ordanna Frae glanced over and saw them, and he brought up one arm in a gesture that appeared to reflect a futile effort to ward them off rather than point them out. He tried to say something, but the arguments raging around him drowned out whatever words he spoke.

“My King! Ministers! Your attention, if you please!” Maurin Ortish was shouting in a way Kirisin had not thought possible given his normally soft manner of speaking. Heads turned. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I think you need to hear what these three have to say about the threat we are facing.” He paused as the King turned to look, and then he bowed deeply. “High Lord, your pardon.”

Arissen Belloruus was on his feet. His voice, when he spoke, was just barely under control. “You had best beg for my mercy, Captain. You have disobeyed me! Deliberately disobeyed me, Captain! What sort of madness has taken hold of you? Do you think yourself above me and therefore able to countermand my orders?”

The arguing ceased abruptly as the remaining members of the Council turned to look at what was happening.

The King wasn’t finished. His hand shook as he pointed at Ortish. “There is no excuse for what you have done. None, Captain. I am shocked and disappointed in you. Have these traitors taken out of my sight and locked up until I can deal with them! When that is done, you are relieved of your command and confined to your rooms!”

Maurin Ortish straightened. “My lord, I understand your anger. But young Kirisin has found the Loden Elfstone, and he and his sister claim to be able to shed light on the truth about your daughter’s death—”