Kevlin threw open the door to High Lord Damarist's office in the Hallvarr Palace. It banged loudly against the stop.

Ambassador Damarist jumped and cried, "I thought I made it clear I am not to be disturbed." He recognized Kevlin and stammered, "I'm sorry, my Lord Kevlin, now's not a good time . . ."

His voice trailed off as Harafin followed Kevlin into the room.

"Make it a good time," Harafin said. He waved one hand and the door slammed itself closed.

Ambassador Damarist leaned back in his padded leather chair, his face losing what little color remained. He glanced around the room and even looked over his shoulder at the large window overlooking the Einarri field. For a second, it looked like he considered trying to escape that way.

He composed himself as Kevlin advanced. "Of course, Master Harafin. You're always welcome." He motioned toward chairs situated in front of his desk. "Please sit."

"Skip the pleasantries, Ambassador. You lied to me. This is your chance to revise your statement. I recommend you do it promptly."

Ambassador Damarist assumed an expression of outrage. "I will remind you that I am a sitting ambassador, Sentinel Harafin. Such accusations . . ."

"I haven't accused you of anything yet, Ambassador," Harafin interrupted. He leaned over the desk, "But if you don't answer my questions truthfully, I will accuse you before the emperor himself if need be." Ambassador Damarist cringed away and he added, "You will tell me the truth, or I will command Truth from you."

Kevlin shivered at the mention of Truth, even though he supported Harafin in this interrogation. The memory of being tortured by the faceless Sentinel with Truth as a boy flashed into his mind. The old memory still terrified him. The feeling of absolute helplessness triggered a sense of panic similar to what he had felt in the catacombs last night.

Ambassador Damarist straightened and tried to maintain his dignity. "Exactly what information are you seeking?"

Kevlin spoke up. "You have a servant. Young, dark hair."

"I have many servants, Sir Kevlin."

"You were meeting with him the last time we came to speak with you."

The patronizing smile that had started to spread across Ambassador Damarist's face faded.

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"We believe that man is one of the conspirators. We wish to speak with him."

"Immediately," Harafin added.

"I don't know anything," the ambassador stammered.

"Then stop playing games," Harafin snapped. "Where do we find this man?"

Ambassador Damarist leaned back in his padded chair and sighed. He ran a shaking hand across his forehead. "Very well, Harafin. Be it upon your shoulders the consequences."

"Explain yourself."

The ambassador looked down at his hands. "I know nothing of these traitors you hunt. The young man you describe is in league with evil forces, but I don't know who they are or what their agenda may be."

"What do you know?" Kevlin asked.

Ambassador Damarist sighed again, and actual tears glistened in his eyes. That surprised Kevlin. This was not the reaction he expected from a conspirator.

"His name is Remiel. He approached me almost a year ago and demanded I offer him employment and access to certain restricted areas in the palace. In return for this, and a promise of absolute secrecy, he guaranteed the safety of my family. If I refused, his master would destroy them."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Harafin asked. "We can protect you. That's why . . ."

"You can't," Ambassador Damarist cried. "I kept hoping someone would discover what was going on, but no one did." He scrubbed his face with both hands. "I tried to deny them. That very day I ordered the fellow arrested." He shuddered. "Before I could even summon a Salawin Stalwart to interrogate him, I received news that my youngest son had just broken both legs in a freak riding accident."

"I remember hearing about that," said Harafin. "All the more reason to come to me for protection."

Ambassador Damarist leaped to his feet. "You blind, arrogant fool! They hurt my son the very same day. Do you really think I'd risk my family?"

Harafin met his gaze, unflinching. "I do. You're an ambassador, a member of the ruling council."

"I'm a husband and a father."

"You have a responsibility to every citizen in your kingdom."

"I have a responsibility to my family."

"You betrayed your oath."

"What about the oath I took to protect my wife and children?"

"Who knows how many innocents have been hurt or even killed as a result of your cowardice?"

"I don't know," Ambassador Damarist said, sinking into his chair, deflated. He whispered, "But I know the names and faces of the ones I've saved."

Harafin said, "Be that as it may. We will shatter this conspiracy. You're a fool, but we'll protect your family. The emperor will decide what happens to you."

Kevlin considered this man he had once held in high esteem. No veneer of greatness remained. Ambassador Damarist looked broken, afraid, cowering in his expensive chair. Now all he felt was pity for the man.

Would he knowingly endanger Indira? Was he already endangering her by insisting on keeping her so close?

He couldn't process that idea right now, so he focused on the conspirators. Finally they were taking a step forward. They knew a name. They would root out this band of traitors and destroy them all.

"Where is Remiel?" Kevlin asked.

"I have no idea. He poses as a servant in the acquisitions department, but he comes and goes at will."

"We will watch for him," Harafin said. "Notify us if he contacts you."

Ambassador Damarist nodded, gaze locked on his hands clasped on the desk. He said softly, "I'm not a traitor, Harafin."

"Perhaps not," Harafin admitted after a moment. "We won't know until we question this Remiel."

"If we can find him," Kevlin said.