The lavish port of Hectyra shimmered on the horizon. The wealthiest and strongest of the five city-states that made up Epros, she was guarded by a massive wall and a fortified harbor. Marble stallions capped pillars on the city's four corners. A fifth pillar towered over the others in the city's center. At the top stood a forty-foot golden statue of Hectyros, divine husband of the city and Lord of the Realm Below the Waves.

Jaska, Zyrella, and Ohzikar were traveling a dusty back road that wound its way toward the city through golden barley fields and verdant vineyards. Passersby gave them a wide berth and sometimes outright fled when they spotted Jaska. Even this far into Epros, palymfar conjured fear within a populace who could identify them by their uniforms and gear. Each time this happened, Jaska's face froze into a defiant mask.

On a hill shaded by three large elms, they shared a lunch of stale flatbread and goat cheese. Ohzikar and Zyrella engaged Jaska in conversation, clearly to his displeasure. Along the way, he had kept to himself and spent every free moment either sleeping or exercising.

Ohzikar said to him, "You’re far too conspicuous. Why don’t you wear some of my clothes."

"I won't hide who I am. I will never again become someone else."

Zyrella pleaded, "Jaska, you’re frightening people. And the palymfar aren't welcome in Hectyra. The Archons will have you arrested and executed."

"I'm not going to enter the city until nightfall."

The look in his eyes caused Zyrella and Ohzikar to drop the argument.

Zyrella repacked the leftovers of their lunch while Ohzikar checked the horses. "We have a little money in a bank here, but I suspect the best we can afford will probably be a the deck of a small trading vessel. And we’ll need one that doesn’t plan on making any stops in Hareez."

"Money isn’t a problem. I have connections here. Several rich businessmen were receptive to the palymfar cause. They won't know that anything is different about me. I will approach the least powerful and demand a ship with a crew and mercenaries. He will give me whatever I ask to earn favor over his rivals."

"Are there palymfar within the city now?" Zyrella asked.

"Three elite operatives."

"Can the Grandmaster send a message to them over this much distance?"

"He couldn't before, not even to me."

"Could he relay messages out here,” she asked, “bouncing them between operatives?"

"Within Hareez, relaying a message is feasible but all the way through Epros would be nearly impossible. And Hectyra itself is guarded from sorcery."

"Yes,” said Zyrella, “but the barrier provided by the towers isn't strong.”

"It doesn't need to be against sorcery performed from such distance."

"What should we do while you're securing a ship for us?" Ohzikar asked suspiciously. He didn't like Jaska going it alone. He didn't trust the man to stay true to himself.

"Find any texts you can for me on Salima's sigils. Otherwise, keep out of sight, in case word about us has somehow reached here. Do you know a secure place to stay?"

"The military quarter,” Ohzikar replied. “At the home of an old tutor."

"Then I will send word to you there when everything is ready. Until then, I’ll stay with our benefactor to see that he complies with my wishes."

As they rode onward, Jaska thought of Mardha and Zyrella, of the dream he'd had, of how similar the two women were. It was one more curse to torture him. He slowed and allowed Zyrella to draw even with him. As he spoke, he avoided eye contact.

"Zyrella, have you ever seen Mardha?"

"No, I haven't. Why?"

You're much like her, he wanted to say. But he shook his head and rode forward. "No reason."

* * *

Because he feared the night and lurking assassins, Lord Ezaras kept a lantern burning in his bedchamber. Before retiring, he checked the oil level. Satisfied, he questioned the guards in the hallway. Captain Telerus confirmed that the grounds were secure. Ezaras locked the door then undressed, feeling as safe as he could. Guards with hounds patrolled his walled urban estate. Wards drawn by priests shielded him from sorcery. Well-paid and trusted bodyguards stood watch throughout the house. Money couldn't buy better protection for a private citizen.

He crawled into his silken bedcovers, stretched, and closed his eyes with a contented sigh. Then the locked balcony door creaked open and the voice of death struck him.

"Ezaras, the palymfar need you."

His heart nearly exploded as Jaska the Slayer stalked into the room.

"M-my lord," Ezaras said, trembling, his heart racing. "W-whatever you need, I shall give."

"I have chosen you above our other contacts because I believe you to be the most trustworthy and dedicated to our cause."

"Thank you, my lord. I am happy to serve."

"I need a fast ship with an experienced crew."

"Done."

"And mercenaries. Good ones."

"I can manage that as well."

"I need it all quickly."

The fat merchant donned his robes. With shaking hands, he poured himself a glass of wine. Jaska refused his offer, and Ezaras plopped down into his chair. "You nearly killed me with fright." Jaska locked his eyes on Ezaras and said nothing. "So … how far do you need to travel?"

"To Issaly."

"It will take several days to arrange everything."

"Do it as fast as you can."

"Yes, my lord."

"Say nothing to the other palymfar here," Jaska said. "One is a double agent, but I don't know which."

"Yes, my lord."

"This is your chance to become a greater man, Ezaras. Your reward will be more than significant."

Ezaras nodded. "Will you need lodging?"

"I will stay here to see that everything is done to my specifications."

Jaska looked away at last and Ezaras felt a terrible weight lift. Once again, he could breathe and think clearly. With sudden shock, he realized he had been compelled through palymfar sorcery. His talisman of abjuration had failed to protect him. "Should I see to your accommodations now, my lord?"

"As soon as possible."

Ezaras rang a small bell. "Captain Telerus!"

Flanked by two other guards, Telerus burst into the room. All three skidded to a halt and drew their swords when they saw Jaska.

Ezaras held up his hand. "Lord Bavadi visits with us in secret, captain. Please see that his every wish is taken care of."

Telerus bowed to Ezaras then Jaska. "Lord Bavadi, would you have the same accommodations you enjoyed with us before?"

Jaska remembered the house's layout and the room he had stayed in, but he didn't recall any other specifics about his visit. Because Jaska hesitated, Ezaras responded nervously. "We have few girls here who will be suited to your particular tastes, my lord. Though if you should wish to break in a few slaves, I can always purchase new ones. And if you're staying longer this time, I can bring in exactly what you need within a day or two."

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Jaska scowled and a white heat flashed through him. Ezaras and the guards cringed under his burning gaze. He wanted to gut Ezaras with his claws. He tried to reign in his voice and demeanor. He didn't want Ezaras to suspect anything was amiss. He wanted him to see the same Jaska as before. "A room and food, Ezaras. That's all. Only my mission concerns me this time."

Something in the assassin's tone struck Ezaras as odd. He voiced anger but his eyes and posture showed a mixture of fear and hesitancy. Since buying his freedom from slavery decades ago, Ezaras had used his instincts to build two merchant empires, one legal and one illicit. Those instincts now told him that his life was in danger. Jaska was somehow different.

"I will see to everything at once," Telerus said, ordering the other two guards to remain outside.

Jaska paced the plush room, examining the various artifacts Ezaras had collected from all over the continent. A few items, including a jeweled long sword, came from the fabled land of Tengba Ren far to the north. He tried to seem detached and curious, but his nerves were frayed, his anger riled. The merchant knew it, too. Jaska could compel him for a time, but the man's will and intelligence were too strong for prolonged domination.

Ezaras drank deeply of his wine. His mind raced. What should he do? He must help Bavadi in every way that he could, but he must also be careful. A rogue palymfar did exist, and that spy reported directly to Ezaras. If Bavadi found out … Ezaras's heart sank into the empty pit of his stomach. He trembled for a few moments then gained control of himself. Bavadi clearly hadn't come here to find the spy, though how the presence of a spy had been uncovered, Ezaras couldn't imagine. He only paid Ooran in case he needed to sell out the palymfar or his rivals to the Archons.

Ezaras decided the best thing he could do was to get Bavadi's ship ready as fast as possible and send him on his way. What else could he do? Did he dare contact Ooran about this? He trusted the palymfar operative, but communicating with him could betray them to Bavadi. He would have to wait and think on it.

Ezaras looked up from his empty wine cup and found Bavadi watching him. The merchant nearly faltered. "My lord, I … can I get you anything?"

"Nothing, Ezaras." Bavadi stepped closer. "Why do I get the feeling you're hiding something?"

"I…" Ezaras knew that palymfar, especially the good ones, could tell when a man lied to them. He needed a truth to cover the lie. "Well, honestly, Lord Bavadi, I must tell you that I have failed in two of the endeavors your master set for me. I was told to buy off at least one member of the Great Council and to increase opiate shipments. I have tried, my lord, I have. But I was in danger of being exposed on the opiate smuggling and had to back off. As for the council member … I've had little success. Councilors are chosen for their honesty here. It is difficult."

"You did well. The palymfar don't reward careless smugglers." Ezaras showed far too much relief and Jaska realized he was going too soft. He leaned down and placed his hands on the arms of the chair. "However, you must corrupt a councilor soon, or we'll lose faith in you."

"Yes, my lord. I will double all my efforts."

"What of your other operations?"

Ezaras brightened. "I have been highly successful, especially with slaves. As you said last time, there are many poor wretches in this city and no one misses them. My profits have doubled since you showed me what I was missing amongst the poor."

Fear settled into Jaska. "What you were missing?" he said before he thought better of it.

"The girls, my lord. Do you not remember? You showed me how to kidnap poor girls from the streets, clean them up, and sell them for enormous profits."

Jaska's face blazed with anger.

"Have, have I done something wrong, my lord?"

Jaska gathered himself. "No, Ezaras. You sparked anger in me at a man in another city who I tried to teach the same thing but who failed to see my reasoning."

The door opened and Telerus marched in. "Your room is ready, Lord Bavadi. The slaves have drawn a bath, and several platters of food will be waiting for you when you are finished."

Jaska marched toward the door. "That is all for now."

"My pleasure," Ezaras said.

The door closed and the fat merchant poured himself another glass of wine. Jaska Bavadi must be watched closely, he thought, and he definitely needed to contact Ooran. Something was wrong here.

* * *

The slightest spark flashed within Yrvas's qavra. He felt a single prick of force, no stronger than a drop of sand falling onto his skin. For a man in the throes of passion to notice this proved no mean feat. A lesser palymfar would have missed it, but his caution and attention to detail had earned Yrvas this dangerous assignment in Hectyra. He slung his favorite whore away. She crashed to the floor and whimpered but said nothing. Though a saucy, sharp-tongued bitch, she had enough wisdom to fear a riled palymfar. Yrvas chanted and connected his mind to his qavra. A familiar impulse brushed across his thoughts.

Another palymfar sought to contact him. From somewhere in the city, he would guess, given Hectyra's shielding. Whatever it was, it had to be important. A message could be intercepted here, and the other palymfar in the city had no reason to use the contacting ritual under normal circumstances. Thinking that one of his brothers had probably been captured, Yrvas went to the center of the room and cut a slit in his palm. With his blood he drew a pentagram and sat in the midst of it.

"Stay silent and do not move," he told the whore who had gotten up to leave. She sat back down, with her hand held to a bleeding lip.

Faintly, a voice came to him, one he knew but not intimately. One he feared above all others.

"My lord," Yrvas said.

"Yrvas," Grandmaster Salahn replied. "In the city . . . traitor . . . kill . . . all costs."

"I can't understand you, my lord."

The Grandmaster repeated his message but Yrvas heard even less of it this time. He reached into the Shadowland where the message was strongest. That still wasn't enough.

The prostitute watched him from the bed, fear etched onto her face. Fear gave one power. Yrvas crossed the room and backhanded her, nearly knocking her unconscious. She cried as he drug her to his pentagram. Quickly and casually, he cut her throat, spilling her blood all over his naked body. Once he would have thought this evil, before he had learned to enjoy raw power, before he saw the weak as useless and deserving of their fate.

Now he had strength enough to hear the Grandmaster, though his voice was still a whisper. "I commend your effort, Yrvas. Jaska is on his way to Hectyra. He may be there already. The priestess Zyrella and her templar captain travel with him, and he may be in her enthrall. Do not trust Jaska. Assume that he is a traitor unless you are certain. If you have any doubt, kill him."

Yrvas's gut wrenched; Jaska had been his mentor. "My lord…"

"Do not underestimate him, Yrvas. Free him from her if you can, but he must be stopped. Jeopardize all our operations in Hectyra if you must. A ship bearing fifty of our brothers should reach you in five days. Delay Jaska until then if possible. Do my bidding well in this, Yrvas, and you will rise far into our ranks."

The connection ended. Pain lanced through Yrvas, wracking his body with convulsions. He had expended far too much energy in the communication. His vision hazed over and he was vaguely aware of his head striking the floor and splashing into the whore's blood.

When Yrvas awoke, the stench of death, cloying and hot, weighted the room. With shaking limbs, he cleaned himself and dressed slowly, moving as if in a dream, as if already dead. With only three brothers to help him, Yrvas would die if he faced Jaska and Zyrella. He would have to hire mercenaries, a lot of them. Hopefully the fifty brothers traveling by ship would get here soon enough. Hopefully he could free Jaska from this priestess. He couldn't believe his mentor a traitor. He trusted him more than he trusted the Grandmaster, though ultimately he would obey Salahn over anyone else.

* * *

Grandmaster Salahn slouched, his energies expended. The last tendrils of his consciousness withdrew from the Shadowland. Mardha crossed into the now dormant pentagram and stroked his shoulders. "Did it work?"

"Only after Yrvas sacrificed a woman. I will promote him, if he survives, to serve as Adynarh's lieutenant."

"He won't survive if Jaska is our enemy. He has no chance at stopping him."

"You overestimate Jaska's abilities, I think, especially without his qavra."

Mardha scowled. "He may have configured a new one."

"It wouldn't be easy to resist the call of his old one, nor the effect any qavra would have on bringing him back to my domination, which his mind had grown accustomed to."

Mardha gazed absently toward the temple altar.

Salahn sighed as he stood. "I do not like this either, Mardha. Jaska was a son to me. It is not easy to order him killed."

"I know, father. I would have you over him any day. Do not doubt that. But he was a good companion."

"Yes, but he was never real, only a figment of our wills brought to life in another man's body."

* * *

For two days, Zyrella and Ohzikar remained at the small house in the military quarter. Disguised as a peasant with his qavra hidden beneath a scarf, Yrvas watched the house intently while his brothers gathered information. Zyrella and Ohzikar ate, read, and exercised in the small garden out back. Jaska, if present, never went out. Only an old soldier stayed in the house with them.

Finding them had proven easy enough after some investigation, especially since Jaska originally sent Yrvas here four years ago to search for the priestess after Salahn had given him the ability to track her with magic. Learning whether Jaska stayed with them proved difficult, however. The priestess's wards blocked attempts to scry within the house, and Yrvas had to avoid the detection wards that would alert her to his surveillance attempts.

Yrvas knew the look of people waiting for something, only what were these two waiting for? Jaska to return? No one had heard or seen another palymfar within Hectyra, though a few stories circulated about one seen approaching the city three days ago. People Yrvas questioned along this street had seen only the priestess and the templar entering the house.

As dawn approached, Hyrtu arrived to replace him. "Do we move against them today?" he asked, extending a perpetually crooked smile formed by a jagged scar that creased one corner upward.

"It's tempting," Yrvas said. "We could take them out before Jaska returns."

"If he's not inside."

"I don't think that he is."

"Well, we have three days until our brothers arrive. Then we can begin a wider search."

"You had no success then?" Yrvas asked.

"None. I visited everyone I could. Ooran just went to see Ezaras. The fat fool claims to have new information for him. Don't know if it's about Jaska, though."

"Does he still believe Ooran is his secret spy?"

Hyrtu laughed. "Yes. You know, it’s funny that even though Ezaras is the smartest of our allies here, none of the others fell for that ploy."

"Everyone makes mistakes." Yrvas thought of Jaska defeated. "Everyone."

Hyrtu nodded in understanding. Yrvas rose and patted him on the shoulder. "Have fun, you ugly whoreson. I'm going to hire some mercenaries then get some sleep."

"I still don't get your thinking. Why don't we kill them while they're separated from Jaska?"

Yrvas smiled as he walked away. "You're over-eager, Hyrtu. If we can help it, we kill no one until our brethren arrive. The priestess is dangerous, too. Besides, we need to be sure where Jaska is first."