If the Thief Lord was hopping around with his Traveling stone, Kiri knew he could be anywhere in the realm. She wouldn’t have any chance of finding him, or catching him on his way home, if that were the case. So she decided to pretend that he was, for some reason, near home. Maybe he was searching for something, or attending to some kind of business in his own land. He had the Desert and a criminal empire to run, right? That kind of thing had to take time.

When she got back to her horse Kiri had a hard time deciding whether to stay dressed as the Firebrand, or take off the mask and put her dress back on. In the end, it seemed better to blend in. If she felt the need, she wanted to be able to step out of the shadows, and word that the Firebrand was in town was bound to reach the Thief Lord, and fast.

It was late into the night, but there were still a lot of people out in the streets. It was really closer to a city than a town. The large community was gathered around the walls of the thief lord’s palace, with the night-life that came with the population. It wasn’t until Kiri started drawing stares that she realized nearly all the rest of the people out in the streets were men. So much for going unnoticed. Kiri followed the noisiest, thickest crowds to an open courtyard filled with dining tables. It was lit with lines of hanging lanterns strung all the way across from the mud-brick buildings on one side to the other. There were a few women here, at some of the doors that lined the courtyard. Judging by their gauzy garments and the way they languidly lounged against the doorframes, they were not the type of women Kiri would want to be mistaken for. The servers who bustled between the tables carrying mugs and legs of turkey were all men. Kiri found an empty table and slipped into a chair, eavesdropping as hard as she could on the men nearby. If she was lucky they would be talking about their Lord. Mala might not be the only one who thought he was acting strangely. One of the servers came by and she asked for a mead. He was obviously surprised to see a woman there, but he accepted her money without comment.

“-fetch a better price,” one of the men at the next table was saying.

“I’ll never go that far for everyday market,” another answered.

“‘S why they pay so much,” the first said. “Horrible place, even hotter than here, even.”

“And forget getting a wagon over that rocky ground!” another, third, voice added.

“Well, they keep the roads up,” the first man said. “But the ground is rough, that’s why they can’t grow a thing.”

“Why does anybody live there?” the third man asked.

“They wouldn’t if it weren’t for the dig,” the first man said. “Lord Useph has them digging up ‘artifacts’. It seems the Giant’s Playground is full of them. I don’t know what the point is of the whole thing, I’d guess wealthy people love stuff like that. But I’m more than happy to take their custom at the prices they pay. Despite the trip.”

They kept talking about the price of produce in the area, but since they didn’t say anything more about the Giant’s Playground, Kiri stopped paying attention. It hadn’t been what she’d been listening for. It wasn’t urgent like finding Useph and getting the sceptre back, but news that he was seeking more artifacts was not good. Not that she’d imagined that the sceptre would be the last of her problems with him. It just would’ve been nice.

The server came by and refilled her mead. Kiri wondered if it would be completely crazy to just ask him where Lord Useph was. Deciding it was probably not a good idea, she scootched her chair around that she could eavesdrop on the two men huddled, heads close together, in quiet conversation on the other side of her table. It had been impossible to hear them over the farmer’s boisterous discussion of the price of produce. Kiri leaned forward and listened as hard as she could.

“-how it could have nothing to do with the Crossing incident,” one of them murmured.

The other answered in a deep, hushed voice, “I tell you, Lord Useph is looking for a woman. How could that have anything to do with the killings?”

“What could pull his attention away from them?” the first said. “He has called that memorial tomorrow, and you know how rare that is for any incident that doesn’t happen here in town.”

“It was a rare event,” the deep voice answered. “Unusual in its cruelty.”

“The work of a monster, no doubt,” the other murmured. “So why is the Lord looking for a woman? And sweeping the city in the middle of the night for her?”

“Only in such places as a criminal would hide,” the deep-voiced man said. “No one in those places will complain. They thank their stars he isn’t looking for them.”

The other shook his head, and broke away to take a drink. Kiri quickly took a drink herself. She didn’t want them to notice her. If she had known it was so strange for a woman to be out in this area at night she would have kept to the rooftops as the Firebrand. Especially since Lord Useph was looking for a fugitive woman. She knew it wasn’t her he was looking for, he couldn’t know she was here already. Maybe he was looking for Riulessa. Kiri wanted to believe that because that meant he must not have used the staff on her, after all. She could still be alive.

~

The sun was in his eyes, and Neal regretted not having worn a hat. He squinted down at the road, trusting his horse to follow it without much guidance from him. It was a good horse, and could for the most part be trusted. He often paid not much attention to the path, using the time to think.

He desperately needed to think now, but he didn’t want to. He was afraid of the conclusions he might come to. Even without thinking it all through he could feel the pull of inevitability. But he could dismiss this sense of dread if he didn’t allow his mind to confirm it. He felt sure that his efforts to cut the Thief Lord off with the Firebrand had failed, and it was the Thief Lord who now held the Sceptre of Fatefall. He wished he could reassure himself, but he could not.

It was Useph’s absence that had clinched it. When Neal woke after having dinner with the Lord of the Desert and his pretty, young, new Lady, Useph was already gone. How could he have gone so quickly, without making preparations for a trip, as conversations with the servants confirmed he had not? It had to be the Travelling stone. Somehow he had found a way to use them as the ancient Eldan did to roam the whole of Laedinland, instead of being stuck with local hops to places he knew well, like Neal was. Now he could be anywhere in Laedinland in moments. It was not a happy thought, especially added to the thought of the Sceptre in his hands, calling the power of Fate down on anyone he chose.

The thunder of following hooves interrupted Neal’s thoughts and he pulled his horse toward the side of the road, not wanting to be run down by whoever was coming down the Swiftway with such mad haste. He swiveled round in his saddle to see who that might be.

They quickly resolved from distant black figures to two distinct men, both on the backs of beautiful horses. One was clearly much taller and longer than the other, whose face Neal found he recognized.

“Garon!” He called as loud as he could to be heard over their horses’ pounding hooves. “Hold up!”

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Garon seemed to have recognized him at the same moment. He gestured to his companion and the two slowed and brought up their horses beside Neal’s.

“He got it,” Garon said immediately.

Even though he’d already been thinking about the topic, it took Neal a moment to realize what Garon meant. The Thief Lord had the Sceptre. So it was not a fear anymore; it was reality. “I thought he might,” Neal said carefully, as his eyes flicked to Garon’s companion. Perhaps Garon had been so cryptic to keep his riding companion in the dark, so he followed suit.

Garon noticed Neal’s hesitation. “We can talk in front of him,” he said. “He knows all about the Sceptre of Fatefall.”

“He does?” Neal said. “I’m sorry, he is…?”

“Riular of the Eldan,” the other answered, pushing back his hood to reveal his long narrow face. “Long-time Guardian of the Sceptre.”

“This is Neal,” Garon supplied, while Neal struggled to find his voice, his mouth working soundlessly. “He is the one who told us about the Thief Lord going after the Sceptre.”

The word us pulled Neal back to himself enough to find his voice. Here was Garon, but he was with the wrong person. He swallowed hard. “Where is the Firebrand?”

Garon clenched his teeth and muscle tightened in his jaw. “She went after him,” he said.

“Of course, I should’ve expected it.” Neal said. “But what are you and your, ah, friend here doing? Why are you headed toward Laed?”

“Actually,” Garon said. “We came to find you. The Firebrand thought you might help.”

“Help?” Neal said. “How would I…?” He blew out a slow breath. The Eldan was looking at him with angry eyes, which did not help him focus on the problem. It was hard not to simply feel doomed in any situation that put him in opposition to the Thief Lord. And now the man had the sceptre that had taken out the Eldan. But the situation was not as bad as he had feared. The Firebrand was still alive, and she had a way of beating the odds.

“I don’t have any resources outside of the Thief Lord’s network,” he said finally. “If I move against him with his own people, it will be dangerous. Impossible to tell what side anyone will be on. If you employ traitors, you have to expect treachery.”

“So, what then?” Garon said. “You give up?”

“Not at all,” said Neal. “I will use my men against him, carefully. And I will notify the King. It seems to me that the Thief Lord is using the Travelling stones to get anywhere in the realm, instantly. Put that together with the Sceptre, and I don’t think the King will see him as a useful ally any longer.”

“That will take too long,” Garon said.

“I agree,” Neal answered. He looked at the Eldan. “Do you have magic?” he asked.

Riular looked at him with disdain. “I can wield the True Power, if that is what you mean.”

“It is what he means,” Garon put in.

“Then maybe you can help the Firebrand against the Thief Lord faster than I,” Neal said. He brought out a black stone. “The Thief Lord is using these like the old Eldan did. Maybe you can figure it out. It should get you back along the road you’ve already taken, at least.”

“We both know the basics,” Garon said, snagging the stone out of Neal’s hand. “But you’re not coming with us?”

“I’m not that great in a fight,” Neal said. “Trust me, I’ll be more use in Laed.”

Garon didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. He turned to Riular. “Can we take our horses with us?”

Riular nodded and reached out to take Garon’s elbow. An instant later, both were gone.

~

The haze was gone. The desert sky was a complete and perfect blue, unbroken by even a sliver of moon or cotton-puff of dry weather cloud. The sun was climbing to the second hour and the square in front of the Desert Lord’s palace was filling with people. There was a wooden stage erected in the center of the square. It was ringed with flowers. Kiri supposed they must have come from a garden in the palace. She’d wandered the city quite a lot this morning, and she’d seen nothing like a flower garden.

Kiri had chosen her spot carefully. Mala had suggested an ambush, but Kiri did not want to risk the lives of this crowd. She was standing on the palace side of the square, just where it narrowed to funnel into the few yards of road which went into the palace gates. There were a lot of guards here. She counted ten. If she did decide to ambush the Thief Lord, it was hard to imagine not having to take them out. And maybe they were agents of the Thief Lord who deserved it, but it was just as likely that they were Desert Guards. If they were law-abiding citizens of Laed guarding their rightful Lord, she didn’t want to hurt them. It was an uncomfortable thought, more even than the fact that, even if she did get the Sceptre, Useph would likely have already used it on her. She comforted herself on that point with the fact that Riulessa was likely still alive. Maybe he really didn’t know how to use it. Of course, there was that man Mala had mentioned. It did seem that even if he hadn’t used it on Riulessa, Useph had since figured the Sceptre out.

There was a grating sound and the palace gate ground open. Standing just inside of it, waiting for it fully open before emerging with their entourage behind them, were Useph and Mala, arm in arm. Useph was carrying the Sceptre.

Kiri felt like an idiot.

Of course she hadn’t been able to catch Useph coming home. Mala’s suggestion had ignored the existence of the Travelling stone, either because she didn’t know about it, or because she thought Kiri didn’t. Kiri wished she knew which it was. Obviously she couldn’t go after Useph now, with Mala on his arm, and a crowd of courtiers (who may or not be guilty of anything) behind them.

The group swept past Kiri, and she decided not to follow them. There was a still a chance Useph might come by here alone on his way back in. She would still much rather confront him in the narrow passage by the gate than out there among an innocent crowd.

The rest of their entourage remained on the ground, while Useph and Mala ascended onto the wood stage. Their backs were turned to Kiri since they were facing the main body of the crowd. Most of the people who had been standing on the same side of the stage as Kiri edged around to get a better view, leaving her nearly alone besides the guards and entourage. She hoped no one would think it was suspicious.

Useph raised his arms and the crowd fell silent. “People of the Desert!” he said, in a loud deep voice that carried without a need for shouting. It was a skill cultivated by nobles as well as stage actors, to speak to a crowd with dignity and authority.

Kiri only half-listened as Useph went on, invoking the mysterious gods of the desert and the senseless ways of madmen as he talked about the tragedy at Werner’s Crossing. For a time, everyone listened attentively, the silence only broken by an occasional cough or fussing baby. Then there was piercing scream, and a number of voices calling in alarm. On the far side of the square, the crowd was moving, breaking apart as people ran.

Kiri ran three steps and jumped on top of a stone bench, trying to see the danger. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the guards running up onto the stage to protect their Lord and Lady. On the far edge of the square, in a space rapidly clearing as the crowd moved away from him, she now saw a man with his face twisted with rage, holding a long, bloody knife. At least three people were on the ground, stabbed, or maybe they had simply fallen. The man was running toward more victims, and their flight was slowed as they caught up to parts of the crowd that were still confused, not sure where to run yet. Kiri tried to judge the distance between herself and the man with the knife. Probably too far for her lightning, and she didn’t want to risk hitting the crowd. She pulled her mask out and was about to pull it on when an arrow flew down from the palace wall and ran right through the knife-wielding madman. He fell backwards, still clutching his blade.

Remembering her original object, Kiri leaped down from the bench and chased toward the palace gate. It was open, and the guards were waving the Thief Lord’s entourage through. She couldn’t spot Mala or Useph. They had probably gone in first. Kiri’s hand clenched around her mask and she ground her teeth together, listening to the little squeaks they made under the strain. It had been a doomed plan from the start, but she didn’t have any other. The square was emptying, and guards were pacing around it, questioning everyone they encountered. It was time to get out of here. Time to see what the Thief Lord’s coin could get her here in his city.

~