"You're one to lecture," Melovar snapped. "What about the things I hear you're doing at your laboratory? Playing with the stuff inside people's skulls, testing how much pain a person can endure before he is rendered insane? Trying to breed women with other creatures?"

"What I do," Zavros said stiffly, "I do for knowledge."

"And what I do, I do for the masses of the world, to show them all that there's another way to rule, with unity above all else," the Primate said.

"I know," Zavros said. "I am with you, Your Grace. I am merely showing you what other eyes see. The masses still respect the Assembly, as they still worship the Evermen. But be careful, Your Grace. I merely ask that you be careful."

After Zavros left Melovar picked up the book of the Evermen. Now, above all else, he longed to find this powerful relic. It was a weapon. He knew it would be a weapon. He lusted after it, thought about it night and day.

Where was it?

44

44

AMBER was stunned by the wonderful normalcy of what she was doing: she was at the market, shopping for the ingredients she would use to cook Miro's supper.

She knew she was welcome at the conference, but Amber had no desire to be with all the lords and officers as they decided their next course of action. She knew Miro would come up with a good plan, and he would tell her all about it afterwards.

But even as Amber picked up and examined withered yellow peppers, squeezed old potatoes, and weighed onions, she still felt apprehensive. It was only the day after the liberation of Ralanast; what if there were some of the Black Army's soldiers still in the city, desperate men who had taken to hiding and hadn't yet been found by Miro's men? Amber tried to force down her fears. Surely she had nothing to worry about.

Miro had tried to reassure her. "Remember," he'd said, "to the guards you were just another prisoner."

Amber had thought about Moragon, and the son the Tingaran High Lord thought was his. "I know," she had said, knowing it was a lie.

More frightened of telling Miro her secret than facing the streets, Amber had refused Miro's offer of an armed escort, eager to turn the conversation to another topic.

Part of Amber thought the journey to the market would do her good. Amber loved to cook and the act of doing something she was familiar with, on her own and completely independent, would do wonders for her confidence.

As she looked at her basket and the items she had gathered, Amber realised she was starting to enjoy herself. She would finely slice the mushrooms and olives and crush the walnuts, combining the trio over a hot pan. After she scooped out the seeds from the peppers, she would stuff the mixture into the cavity of each, and roast them in a hot oven.