Ceren sat on a small, plush sofa in the keisara's private sitting room at the very top of the Keisara's Tower. This was a room where only Fideima's inner circle of friends were ever invited. She could barely contain her excitement.

The spacious room took up the entire upper floor and was comfortably furnished without being ostentatious. Ceren approved of all of the keisara's choices for furniture, placement, fabrics, and coloring. Of course, it was nothing but the platform upon which to enjoy the breathtaking views.

The tower room boasted eight huge windows that provided unbroken vistas in every direction. The Keisara's Tower was one of the two identical towers placed at either end of the central keep of the Emperor's Palace, which sat near the western edge of the plateau.

Ceren could look down at the cliffs that plummeted several hundred more feet to the Tamerlane Sea, which stretched to the western horizon. Ships far out in the sea looked like tiny toys.

The Great Dome glistened in the midday sunlight to the southeast and blocked her view of the southern half of the city. Other windows offered spectacular vistas of the myriad towers and keeps and domes of the inner city complex. Beyond the Northern Kingdoms Admin Palace, she glimpsed the Tamarr and Freyarr palaces, the thick inner city wall, and the vast expanse of the northern half of Tamera.

She could have stood at the windows and absorbed those views for hours. Instead, she sat demurely on the sofa facing Keisara Fideima and Lady Miren, who shared another sofa. Sitara stood at attention to one side. Another of the keisara's handmaidens, named Omolara, who could have passed for a younger sister of Lady Miren, stood on the other.

Ceren was glad Sitara was present. Otherwise, so much gorgeous blond hair in one place would have made her far too self-conscious. She was so thrilled she wanted to squeal like a little girl. This opportunity dwarfed everything she'd ever dreamed. She composed her mind and her face and reminded herself to breathe.

"Lady Ceren," Keisara Fideima said, "I'm so glad you were available to attend me today."

Ceren wanted to shout, 'Are you kidding? I'd have sacrificed my cousin to get an audience with you!' But she only said, "It's my pleasure, Your Majesty."

The keisara motioned toward trays of sweetbreads and chilled fruit wine on the table and invited Ceren to help herself. She did so, and only through a lifetime of training in her father's palace did she manage to act calm and not spill it all over herself.

Keisara Fideima chatted with Lady Miren, but watched Ceren. She realized this was the first test, a simple way for the keisara to judge her character and fortitude.

After they all sampled some of the food, the keisara said, "It's my understanding that you traveled with Master Harafin recently and witnessed some of the tragic events in Hallvarr."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Tell me, do you believe Master Harafin will succeed in rooting out the traitors hidden here in the palace?"

Ceren smiled. "I have no doubt. Master Harafin does not hesitate. When he sees a threat, he destroys it." As she spoke, she jabbed her arm out in an imaginary sword thrust.

Lady Miren jumped and then giggled at herself. The keisara looked startled but masked her emotions too well for Ceren to read more.

Ceren wanted to slap herself for making a scene. "I'm sorry for startling you. I'm afraid I'm still a little jumpy from battle."

Keisara Fideima raised a single eyebrow in surprise. "You actually . . . participated in battle, Lady Ceren?"

"I did," Ceren said, thrilled to have cracked the keisara's façade. "In fact, I rode with the assault force that broke the siege at Il'Aicharen."

"Oh my," Lady Miren exclaimed. "Did you . . . kill anyone?"

Ceren dropped her gaze to her hands. "Yes."

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She raised her eyes to see them both staring at her as if seeing her for the first time. "I killed Makrasha."

She shivered at the memory of the huge, foul beasts and their flat, green eyes and deadly hengaruk. Then she remembered the one Makrasha, maw gaping wide as it tried to bite her head off.

Kevlin had killed it, had savaged it in a terrible fury. Neither of them had known that Indira was protecting her at the time. He had thought the beast was killing her.

She forced the memories away. The ladies were watching her closely. She took another drink of her chilled wine. "Again, I apologize. Some of the memories are unsettling."

Keisara Fideima asked, "How did the battle end? Accounts are scattered and incomplete."

Ceren knew what she was asking. Where was Tia Khoa, and who was the new bearer? Knowledge was power, and this was the most closely guarded secret Ceren had ever known. She was deeply frustrated that she hadn't cracked it yet herself, but she wasn't about to reveal that failure to the keisara.

"I'm sorry, my own memories are a little vague. After I killed the rogue Sentinel Wayra, the burning tower collapsed on me and I lost track of some time."

"You killed Wayra?" the keisara exclaimed.

"Yes, your majesty." Time to tie it all together. "But I succeeded primarily because Master Harafin stood against Wayra, against the full might of the keep's activated defenses. He battled with power no other Sentinel could have matched. Her distraction proved fatal."

She leaned forward. "Master Harafin will find these traitors and he will destroy them."

"And you'll help him," Lady Miren said with a little clap of her hands. She lifted her glass. "You are the bravest woman I've ever met. Gods bless you."

Keisara Fideima lifted her glass as well. Ceren bowed her head to accept their praise, a little smile on her lips.

Things were working out better than she could have hoped.

# # #

Sitara pushed open the plain wooden door and slipped into the simple guest room. Identical to hundreds of similar rooms in this rarely used section of the underground palace, it provided a secure meeting place.

She had already swept the room with her mind and confirmed Remiel alone waited inside. When he caught sight of her, he jumped to his feet from the small bed where he'd been lounging. He grinned and crossed the room in two steps to wrap his arms around her.

He smelled clean and fresh and was wearing a hint of cologne. His strong arms held her with unusual gentleness. As usual, his thick, dark hair was perfectly styled and he still looked like a sixteen year-old. If she didn't hate him so much, she'd admit he was very handsome.

"I've missed you, Angel."

Of course he missed her. When she'd agreed to this pig's terms of service, she'd forced him to agree to take no other women to his bed until she was finished with him. Her long absence must have tested his will.

She felt no pity for him.

When he tried to kiss her lips, she pushed him away. "You'll get your payment when I finish my report."

He retreated and leaned against the wall near the bed, but his eyes stayed glued to her. For once he actually tried to keep his gaze focused on her face instead of mentally undressing her while they talked.

"So how did the trip go?" he asked. "Tell me about Diodor."

"Tell your master I made contact and expect delivery." The code phrase was all she dared share with him.

Masego was her master too, but that didn't mean she had to treat Remiel like an equal.

"You're here," Remiel said, his usual cocky smile on his face. "So I figured you were successful."

"Then why require I come to tell you what you're clever enough to figure out alone?"

They both knew why. By insisting on a meeting, he could claim another payment. She hated remaining trapped in this agreement, but Masego hadn't offered to amend it for her. She doubted he ever would, doubted he ever spared her discomfort a single thought.

Remiel advanced and took her hands. His smile faded and he gazed into her eyes with unusual intensity. "Can't I miss my best girl?"

"Don't mock me," she snapped.

Sitara moved to the bed and perched on the edge. Her brief freedom from Tamera had been fraught with danger, but she'd loved escaping Remiel's touch. Only by returning could she complete her mission to succeed in the revolution. Only then could she truly honor Bajaran's memory, but she hated the price she was forced to pay.

When she reached for the ties to her bodice, Remiel surprised her. He took her hand and drew it back from the laces.

"Don't bother, Angel."

She wasn't sure what disgusting plan he had in mind for her and barely checked her rage. For the thousandth time, she was tempted to unleash her powers upon him, torture his body, and take the essence of his soul to feed her strength.

When the time was right, she would do just that.

Remiel retreated to the door, but his smile looked forced and his eyes a little sad.

"Angel, I. . ." He sighed, one hand on the doorknob. "Listen, if anyone asks, just tell them you had a good time."

Then he left.

Sitara stared after him, hardly believing he would leave without taking advantage of her again. He'd always enjoyed that part of their secret meetings the most.

She snorted when she considered his last words. As if she spoke about him with anyone. She had no close friends. She couldn't trust anyone, not even these men who she had turned to for help after Bajaran's death.

There was no end to Remiel's bloated ego. Even when he couldn't perform, he still worried about his reputation.

Sitara exited the lower levels before he changed his mind. She drove him from her thoughts. Her next interview would be far more dangerous and important.