The old chief blanched. He faced his king. “That can’t be possible. Magden Norath?”

“His head was cut almost all the way off. The men with him were killed, too.”

Despite being inside, Megelin heard the shrieks of the deathcats and the screams of men who were too close when they went mad.

Al-Medi was terrified, yet outraged. “I learned of all this two days ago. What it’s about was never explained. I could betray nothing if I wanted. What have you brought down on me?”

No doubt he spoke the truth. Norath had arranged to be here. Norath was careful. Only he had known the story. It could be argued that, logically, only he could be the traitor.

Megelin thought his head was going to burst.

Reports came in. They were not good. Two deathcats had gone mad. They had attacked one another and anything living till the bodyguards put them down. Another six men were dead. Four were badly injured. A half-dozen derelicts had been killed as well.

Megelin screamed, “Old man, what am I doing here?”

“You were brought to see me.”

Megelin turned. And was surprised. That strong young voice had come from the oldest man he had ever seen, a bent, shuffling creature thin as starvation itself. But the power round him was so potent Megelin could taste it.

A bony, crooked finger indicted Megelin. “Come with me, boy.”

Time stopped. Everyone became rigidly motionless.

Rage at the ancient’s lack of respect boiled inside Megelin—the more so when he found that he could not resist the command. In a moment he and the living antiquity were inside a small, isolated room, absent all witnesses.

Megelin could not control his flesh but his mind remained independent. He recognized a level of distress in his companion that bordered on terror. The old man was totally rattled—maybe because he understood just how amazing Norath’s fall had been.

The King finally realized who the ancient had to be: that most fabulous of fabulous beings, the Star Rider.

Megelin wished he had the strength and quickness to leave the old devil a sack of dead bones alongside Magden Norath.

The old man’s sneer revealed his confidence of knowing every treacherous thought whisking through Megelin’s brain.

Varthlokkur was playing with the children when the unexpected burst. Smyrena lay on his lap, wriggling and giggling, trying to catch a glowing butterfly that kept sneaking past her chubby-fingered grasp to perch for a moment on her pug button nose. Ekaterina and Scalza cheerfully blasted each other in a tag game involving harmless balls of light. And Ethrian…

Ethrian was looking outward tonight. He remained silent, did not interact, did not respond to direct address, but was connected and alert.

Varthlokkur was pleased to see even that much progress.

Nepanthe was thrilled beyond description.

She was downstairs cobbling together refreshments, no doubt including something that had been an especial favorite of Ethrian’s as a child.