But Drust Chazhul was on his feet, pacing the room, suddenly animated. “All we need to do is to find an excuse to visit while the bulk of the Druids are away, one that won’t seem overtly aggressive. A diplomatically acceptable excuse. A visit to the Ard Rhys by the new Prime Minister of the Federation, perhaps. A courtesy call.”

He wheeled back, facing Stoon. “Can Paranor’s defenses be breached? Is there a way to get past them?”

The assassin smiled. “There is always a way. The trick is in finding it.”

“I want you to work on that. While you do, I will lay the groundwork for my ‘diplomatic visit.’ Because of what I plan to do, I will need to take a sizable force with me to overcome whatever resistance I encounter.”

“The Coalition Council will never agree to let you take a fighting force into Druid territory. They’ll slap you down in a minute. Arodian and Edinja will see to it.”

“Perhaps not.” He felt excited, energized. “In fact, I might be able to make use of them.” He grinned. “Don’t underestimate me, Stoon. I know how to get things done that others wouldn’t even dare to consider. You concentrate on your job, and I’ll do the same with mine. Tell our spies to keep you advised on any preparations for an expedition made at Paranor. I’ll want reports from Arborlon, as well. Anything at all about what’s been found in the Elven histories or what’s intended to be accomplished by this search. If there’s a way to discover their destination or the specifics of its purpose or who might be helping them … anything at all.”

Stoon nodded. “This is risky, Drust. If you overstep, your enemies will be on you like wolves on a lamb.”

Drust Chazhul gave him a wicked smile. “Then they’d best watch themselves. This lamb might turn out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. This lamb might devour them instead.”

He drank the last of his wine. “Let’s go our ways. Come to me tomorrow night. We’ll see how things stand then.”

He turned to collect his coat and hat. When he turned back again, Stoon was gone.

16

AT PARANOR, APHENGLOW ELESSEDIL SAT PROPPED UP IN her sleeping chamber bed, rereading the notes she had written regarding her use of the blue Elfstones three days earlier in Arborlon. She had made her report to the Ard Rhys and her fellow Druids that morning, but she felt compelled to make certain that she had left nothing out. Her broken leg, splinted and bound, lay stretched out before her, a sour reminder of how badly things had gone awry.