She again caught the eyes of Prince Ilathor. He regarded her with hope in his eyes.

Please, let it work.

~

IN THE tower Prince Ilathor Shanti had made his headquarters, high above the streets of Torlac, a Petryan named Leptar stole into the prince's chamber.

He knew about the warning to stay clear of the barracks. It made his task that much easier. Leptar had received a message by pigeon from High Lord Haptut Alwar. His ruler wanted to know what this magic was that the Hazarans were preparing.

Leptar hardly needed to be quiet; the barracks were completely deserted. Discarding all caution, he began to rummage through the papers on the prince's desk, searching for some clue to what the man was planning. Giving up, he moved to the maps on the wall, but the squiggles meant nothing to him. He could see the borders and rivers, the great lake and the mountains to the north, but what were those other lines? Were they plans of attack? There were many lines plotting a course between Petrya and Tingara through the Gap of Garl, but what would the High Lord care about that?

Then Leptar heard a great thudding boom, following by a strange hiss. He wondered what it was, and then it came to him.

The great magic; it was here. It was the reason the prince didn't want anyone going near the barracks. He'd warned everyone else away, and now he was secreted away with his loremasters, building some terrible weapon.

Leptar knew it was risky, but he was brave, and loyal to the High Lord, who had promised him riches and a harem of young concubines. He decided to follow the sounds and see if he could get a look.

Leptar descended the steps from the tower, being a little more cautious now that he realised the creators of magic were somewhere in the barracks. Another hiss came from deep below, guiding his footsteps, and soon Leptar was on the ground level.

They must be in the cellars.

The air grew warm as Leptar descended. He turned a corner and saw a strange glowing cord enter a room at one end and plummet down some stairs at the other. Congratulating himself on his intuition, which had never served him wrong, he followed the cord down the stairs and into the cellars.

Leptar reached the foot of the stairs and saw that the pulsing cord vanished under a heavy wooden door. He suddenly felt he should leave; there were those with powers he did not understand on the other side of this door. Yet what could he say to the High Lord if he didn't open the door?

Leptar drew the heavy bone-handled knife he wore at his side. There were no guards; the men inside wouldn't be expecting him.

With a mighty pull, Leptar hauled the door open.