Unicorn Tears
                         Prologue
           1,999,999, Age of Life, Early Summer
    Maruss Freewind was again going over the list of 
names, trying to memorize them all, when Starsheen buzzed 
in his sheath. His concentration broken, the curalli 
frowned at the weapon and again began trying to read, but 
again his friend interrupted him.
    Exasperated, the shadowed Elwen carefully laid down 
the pieces of pran paper and turned to look at the 
sentient knife. ^What is it?^ he asked telepathically- a 
habit he had gotten into with the new guards around. Can't 
have them thinking their leader's crazy, and mumbling to
himself, he thought with a sour smile.
    ^I heard something.^ There was an odd note in 
Starsheen's mental voice- not the impatience or sulkiness  
he had been betraying lately in his eagerness to go to
battle. This sounded almost excited. ^Hear it?^
    Maruss cocked an ear, but though he could hear almost
every tiny sound within Coroncheer, the mountain fortress,
and dismiss them, he couldn't pick out the noise Starsheen 
seemed to think so unusual. ^The guards' weapons 
rattling,^ he said finally, hearing an odd sound of steel 
on leather but smelling the sword and knowing it for what 
it was. ^Your kin,^ he couldn't resist adding. He might as 
well tease the blade as Starsheen teased him.
    The sentient knife, oddly, didn't even respond to the 
taunt, though usually any suggestion he was akin to 
ordinary weapons sent him into a rage. ^No, no.^ His voice 
was soft but insistent, and as it grew happier it melted 
into a copy of Maruss's own, until the shadowed Elwen 
wasn't sure if he heard the knife or the voice of his own 
thoughts. ^Something- special. Familiar. It's hard to 
explain unless you bond with me. Knives have different 
senses than you Elwens do.^
    Maruss nodded in agreement and let his thoughts mingle 
and flow with those of the sentient knife, tying them into 
a doubled entity that was both curalli and steel at once. 
Starsheen, despite his lack of eyes or any ears other than 
his mental pair, did have ways of sensing the world, and 
it was mostly by feeling. Maruss sensed it now- a familiar 
presence, not far away, somewhat daunted by the presence 
of the guards, but undeniably there and beloved. But it 
was an effort for Starsheen to give people names, and 
Maruss could not tell who it was.
    Still, that was a reason to go and greet him. Maruss 
withdrew his thoughts from the knife's with exuberance and 
stood to make his way to the door, careful out of habit 
not to make any sound. Sometimes he couldn't stand the 
guards' protectiveness, and liked to startle them.
    He swung open the door silently and cleared his throat 
loudly. The vigilant ring of ten Elwens and elves, all 
armed and facing outwards, jumped as if guilty of some
crime and looked back at him inquiringly.
    Maruss did his best to keep a bland smile pasted on 
his face. Heavens, it wasn't their fault that they had 
gotten assigned- or volunteered- to guard their "lord." He 
thought the title with distaste. And it wasn't their 
fault, personally, that he was irritable about it. Just 
the thought of having a guard, however- not to mention 
ten- drove him up the wall. What need was there for it?
    "Yes, Lord Maruss?" asked one of the volunteers, a 
young time Elwen named Tenico. He was one of the soldiers 
Dandran Goatleap had sent from Delldwell to fight with the 
Annihilators, but not only a soldier. He also possessed 
the valued gift of silversong, which healed the psychic 
wounds of slaves under silver unicorn domination. Maruss 
liked him, but thought he should be training with Elenyi, 
Maruss's foster sister, and a child named Soshli who also 
had the talent. He would be of much more value in battle 
as a silversinger than as a fighter.
    "I sensed someone down the corridor there," he said, 
nodding unerringly toward the shadows where Starsheen had 
indicated the waiting one was. "Why didn't you invite him 
in?" His voice had grown slightly accusing, but he 
couldn't help it. The guards knew the curalli's foster 
siblings and his close friends- the only ones who would 
have a presence like that- and had orders to let them in 
at all times. Why had they stopped this one?
    Tenico and another guard exchanged bewildered glances, 
than the triltna swung his green gaze back to Maruss. 
"Begging your pardon, my lord, but we didn't see anyone 
there."
    Maruss glared at Starsheen. If he hadn't felt the 
familiarity himself, he would have thought the knife was 
making up a phantasm to relieve his boredom. At any rate, 
he intended to investigate. He stepped through the guards 
and toward the shadows.
    The ring of steel parted for him easily, but then 
closed behind and followed as the guards accompanied him. 
Maruss shot them an annoyed glance and said in the most 
patient voice he could muster, "The shadows are thirty 
yards away- thirty-five at most. You can still see me. You 
don't have to abandon your posts." He winced inwardly at 
adding the last phrase, which might well shame them, but 
which would also, most likely, cause them to back off.
    Tenico remained firm; it was obvious the charming 
young triltna was already the unofficial leader of the 
guards. "I'm sorry, Lord Maruss, but the oath we swore to 
you said we were to guard you." He smiled suddenly, a 
contagious grin. "That is open to our interpretation, my 
lord, and if we follow you wherever you go, you'll be that 
much the safer."
    Maruss smiled back despite himself and shook his head 
with less firmness than before. "All right. Come half of 
the way. Will that satisfy you?"
    The elves and Elwens nodded, and Tenico swept a bow a 
shade too mocking to be reverent, a shade too respectful
to be a joke. "As you wish, Lord Maruss."
    The curalli, grinding his teeth against the inanity of 
that last phrase, strode on. The guards followed him, 
halting at the halfway point as he had instructed them to. 
Hiding a smile of victory, the curalli walked into the 
shadows his kind was named for without fear. The vision of 
curalli in the darkness was better than that of almost any 
other type of Elwen.
    He sniffed carefully, but this little alcove held no 
smell except stone and a faint trace of magic. Maruss 
frowned a bit in worry. Why would any of his friends have 
cause to hide his or her scent with magic? He circled the 
alcove one more time, but still nothing turned up. Of 
course, footprints couldn't be left in solid stone- except 
by creatures he would rather not meet- and a lost scrap of 
cloth or steel would be too much to hope for. He started 
to duck out of the shadows.
    Abruptly, the perfect dark circles on his ankles and 
wrists, like the scars of manacles, flared with bright 
silver light. Seizing Starsheen, Maruss whirled to stare 
behind him.
    Nothing.
    The sentient knife's voice was disappointed, and his 
humming took some time to settle. ^It could at least have 
been a worthwhile fight,^ he complained sulkily. Maruss 
patted his hilt soothingly and slid him back into his 
sheath, still staring curiously at the silver light. It 
had died to a faint glimmer, now, welling up from his 
boots and from under his tunic sleeves, but there could be 
no forgetting that brief, sight-stealing flare. The scars 
Fate had put on him- or wherever they had come from, 
considering that he half didn't believe in fate- rarely 
reacted so violently unless he was in danger. Yet why 
would a determined foe be frightened off by a little 
light?
    Shaking his head, he emerged from the shadows, only to 
be nearly jabbed in the nose by a spear. Tenico drew back 
and dropped his weapon, looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry, 
Lord Maruss. I thought you were someone else."
    "Who?" Maruss asked, both exasperated and amused.
    "Whoever caused that light-" the time Elwen began, 
nodding toward the alcove. Then his eyes alighted on the 
shimmering auras encircling Maruss's hands and he fell 
silent. "Oh," he said in a small voice. "It was you."
    Maruss saw some of the new guards rising on their toes 
to look over the tall Tenico's head or shoulders, and the 
more veteran ones exchanging knowing glances. He winced. 
Tales were spread fast about him, even among ten thousand 
Annihilators instead of two thousand. Not more than a 
tenth of the tales- if that- were true. He could just 
imagine what ridiculous new story this might spark.
    For now, however, he was too weary to do anything 
about it. He had been up studying the lists and linking 
names to faces for well over a day, and was exhausted and 
famished. However, his room was quite near, and he didn't 
feel like walking down ten or twenty flights of stairs to 
the level of the hollow mountain where the food was kept. 
He made his way wearily back to his door, the guards 
carefully pacing him and darting vigilant glances all 
about. They tensed as footsteps came down the corridor 
toward them, but Maruss had already recognized the smell 
of his visitor and lifted his head with a tired smile.
    "Myyti," he greeted the underground Elwen who glided 
out of the shadows. The guards relaxed, thrusting weapons 
back into sheaths. The verde came to Maruss and pressed 
his hand.
    "We need to talk," she told him, and only then did he 
see that her face was furrowed with worry lines. He turned 
to Tenico as he laid his hand on the door handle.
    "See that no one disturbs us, if you would."
    The time Elwen bowed his head and took up a stance 
before the door that was almost attack dog like. The 
others imitated him as the pair stepped inside and pulled 
the door shut.
    Once the heavy stone was between them and any prying 
ears, the curalli turned back to Myyti. "Speak, beloved," 
he urged her softly. "What's the matter?"
    Myyti absently twisted a green curl around one clawed 
finger, her jade eyes clouded with worry. As was her way, 
she came straight to the point. "Two of the guards at the 
Song Door were found unconscious."
    Maruss felt a chill run up his spine. The Song Door, 
one of the few entrances into Coroncheer, was keyed to be 
opened by tapping the chiming crystal there so that it 
released a specific series of notes, which in turn formed 
a song. Guards were stationed inside alone. That meant, if 
something had frightened them, that the intruder had 
passed through the door already and was now inside 
Coroncheer. "What about the others?" he asked, knowing 
there were commonly five guards stationed there. "Did they 
see anything, or were they killed?" He braced himself for 
the answer he most expected, though his heart shivered. He 
never quite got over each loss of an Annihilator.
    "They saw something," said Myyti, and now the deep 
green eyes were exasperated. "But they refuse to talk 
about it."
    "What?" demanded Maruss incredulously.
    "One said it was too embarrassing, and two more 
muttered that no one'd believe them. The other two passed 
out from fright." She looked at him, her gaze pleading but 
tender as it rested on the dark circles under his eyes. "I 
know you're weary, but would you...?"
    Maruss nodded. For some reason he could not quite 
understand, the Annihilators loved and trusted him, and 
they might respond to being questioned by him as they 
would not by Myyti. "I'll try."
    Myyti smiled radiantly, and Maruss told himself that, 
with such a sight as his reward, sleep could wait.




                        Chapter 1
                    With Shining Eyes
    Maruss leaned idly back against the side of 
Coroncheer, his fingers tapping the stone, though he was 
careful not to touch the chiming crystal. He wasn't eager 
to return to the stifling stone corridors and platforms of 
the mountain, beautiful as they were. It was rare he had 
any free time- much less alone- and he was determined to 
make the most of it.
    He sat on the ledge outside the Song Door, nearly six 
miles above ground, reveling in the blueness of the sky 
and the purity of the mountain air, chill at this height 
even in summer. The slopes of the peaks around him, the 
Northern Spires, showed scraggly splotches of green 
mingled with gray, as lichen and stunted trees strove to 
grow on the stone. The sun was almost directly overhead, 
but Maruss was shielded from its uncomfortable heat by an 
overhang. As he watched through half-closed eyes, a 
majestic eagle, the light winking blindingly from its 
copper-colored feathers, trawled through the air toward 
its distant eyrie, some unfortunate animal whose smell was 
blown away by the wind hanging from its claws.
    The peace, however, couldn't ultimately distract 
Maruss's mind from his task. It was two days since the 
entry of the mysterious intruder into Coroncheer, and the 
Annihilators were nearing the border of panic.
    Maruss's questioning of the guards had dredged up 
nothing more than the apparent fact that they had seen a 
ghost. Maruss had not been sure how much of that to 
believe, but his Elwen gift for detecting deception had 
found no lie in their voices. Still, better to be sure 
before he made any announcements- and he had the feeling 
they were holding something back.
    There had been no more mysterious attacks, either, or 
indeed any unexplainable action of any kind. That, of 
course, only made some people worry the more. Some 
shrieked it was a silverini spy come to look at their 
battle plans; others that it was a vampire come to suck 
the blood of the thirty or so Annihilator children. That 
last accusation had caused Maruss's foster brother Geruth 
to bristle like a porcupine, and Maruss had done his best 
after that to lay the rumors to rest. The battle plans 
were safe in his own chambers, which no one entered who 
did not have a reason to enter. It was unlikely anyone 
could steal a glance at them.
    Thinking of the plans reminded him that he had a 
greater task at hand, far more important than quelling 
insulting gossip. The Annihilators had- at least when they 
consisted only of two thousand highly trained fighters- 
been a strike-and-run band, stealing slaves from the 
unicorn cities and then vanishing back to their 
strongholds before the distressed silverini could catch 
hold of them. Maruss had seen no reason to change that, 
and indeed, an attempt to do so had resulted in near- 
disaster.
    But now, their numbers had more than quadrupled 
themselves, and they had more than just one silversinger. 
Throughout Coroncheer, an excited buzz traveled. Many of 
the freed slaves had good reason to hate the unicorns, 
having lived as mindless, will-less automatons until free.
    Therefore, they wanted to openly attack and completely 
obliterate a minald. "Living up to our name," as the 
supporters of the plan called it.
    Others denounced the idea, but they belonged to an 
ever-shrinking minority. As he did with most issues that 
divided his people, Maruss had attempted to keep a neutral 
stance out of caution, but he had drawn battle plans for 
an attack on a small minald near the foot of the Northern 
Spires. If eventually everyone agreed, and they found some 
way to attack that would incorporate all their resources 
yet not be too risky...
    The grinding sound of the door made Maruss reluctantly 
move out of the way. His mind still had not come up with a 
solution to the problem, and in a way he both welcomed for 
and dreaded this distraction.
    Then he caught his visitor's scent, and his dread 
melted away. He turned with a smile. "Jierran! I haven't 
seen you in nearly a week! What have you been up to?"
    The young silver unicorn stallion smiled beneath his 
blindfold. "Oh, nothing much. Convincing people, as usual, 
that I'm not an agent of the enemy." He moved a few steps 
forward, his voice suddenly grave. Maruss imagined that 
the violet eyes behind the strip of cloth he wore were 
solemn. "And carrying news of a fight. You'd better come 
right away."
    "Damn!" Maruss growled, rising to his feet. "Over the 
issue of fighting openly?" He had expected this, but that 
didn't make it any more pleasant to deal with.
    "Yes." The silverini looked over his shoulder out of 
instinct, since he couldn't see anything. "Only a fist- 
fight now, but I imagined you'd want to know before it 
became something more serious."
    "Yes, I would." Maruss stood and scrambled through the 
still-open door. Jierran followed him, every tap of his 
hooves against the stone raising bell-like echoes and 
causing a silver lily to try to force its way through the 
rock.
    Maruss didn't acknowledge the sweeping bows of the 
guards inside the door, though his mouth tightened when 
some stared at Jierran in open hatred. Even though the 
silver unicorn had been with them for nearly half a year 
and was one of Maruss's closest friends, it was taking 
some doing for the new soldiers to get used to him. Never 
mind, the curalli thought sarcastically, that he had 
forsaken his people and helped the Annihilators greatly by 
opening the Empire's Portals to them. All some people 
still saw was the silver coat and horn and the four legs. 
All some people remembered was that he was the son of 
Destria, Emperor of the Silverini and Maruss's personal 
enemy.
    Elwen and unicorn passed unerringly across the 
platform and into a lift that existed for the convenience 
of the four-legged Annihilators. At Jierran's soft 
direction, the lift chains began to creak, and their iron 
cage was lowered slowly toward the platform some six 
staircases below. Maruss stared grimly down, his ears 
cocked for any noise of the fight, but it was hard to hear 
anything save the shrill complaint of the chains. He made 
a mental note to oil them.
    At last the lift landed, and Maruss thrust the door 
open and jumped out, then hesitated, looking to Jierran 
for guidance. The silverini, whose ears and nostrils 
guided him nearly as well as his eyes, sped past the 
curalli with a sound like a crazed bell-chorus and forced 
open the door of a small room that stood there.
    Following behind him, Maruss recognized it as one of 
the many practice rooms where those trained strictly in 
the use of swords learned their skills. Shining weapons, 
some forged by the Annihilators or other freed slaves, 
some filched from the unicorns, decorated the walls, 
gleaming in the light of their auras.
    The room also contained a small and growing crowd 
ringed tightly about two shouting, tumbling shapes that 
could barely be seen. Maruss groaned silently as the face 
of one came into view. His foster brother, Phaedon, always 
was too ready to settle matters with his fists- or a 
blade, for that matter.
    Maruss, who had received bard-training, pitched his 
voice so that it could be heard above the shouted taunts 
of the combatants. "What is going on here?"
    The crowd broke apart with lightning speed, each 
person who had watched the fight turning away his or her 
face. Maruss strode through them toward the sheepish foes, 
glaring at each in turn. He wasn't really all that angry- 
wanting to watch a fight was only natural- but such 
spectators simply encouraged such behavior.
    Phaedon, who bore a long scratch on one cheek and a 
lump on the side of his head, bowed coolly to Maruss. His 
opponent snorted, shaking out her wings. To his surprise, 
Maruss recognized her as Filaria, a mischievous young wind 
Elwen but not usually a troublemaker. The blow on 
Phaedon's head had most likely come from her wing, for she 
carried no weapon. She had a blackened eye, and one clump 
of her tangled red hair was missing. Phaedon had given as 
good as he got.
    "Lord Maruss," said Phaedon in a voice as distant as 
the stars that his eyes resembled. "How strange to see you 
here." Maruss saw the tight muscles under his tunic, 
however, and knew the other curalli fully expected a 
scolding. Maruss decided to oblige him.
    "There are quite enough divisions in the Annihilators 
already without them being expressed so openly," he said 
quietly. It was rare for him to lose his temper or to 
raise his voice. "What was it about this time?" He knew 
perfectly well, but he wanted to see how serious this was. 
    Phae gave him an inscrutable look, but Filaria 
answered before he could respond. "He called me a coward," 
the rheeth said coldly, "simply because I think we should 
be cautious and not move against a minald."
    "She is a coward!" Phaedon's silver eyes leaped with 
scornful light. "Caution, she says. Ha! We would do well 
to move now, while the unicorns don't expect it." He 
glared at Maruss accusingly, as if transferring his anger 
to his brother. "Speaking of which, why didn't we move 
after you closed the Wellspring? The unicorns were shaken 
then, and taken by surprise. We might have crushed the 
Empire!"
    "We wouldn't have," said Maruss logically. "You know 
that." Phaedon had been with him on the journey back to 
Coroncheer after his closing of the intelligent pool that 
had allowed the unicorns to resurrect their dead. "We had 
to make the journey back and get the new soldiers 
integrated into our fighting force."
    Phaedon turned away and slammed his left fist into his 
right palm. "I know," he said dispiritedly. "You couldn't 
have moved any sooner. But I'm- tense." He shook his head 
and moodily drew his slender sword, swiping it through the 
air once or twice.
    Seeing the frustration on his face, Maruss frowned in 
worry. More than half of the Annihilators were 
professional soldiers like Phae, though few had trained so 
long. If fighting was the only way to relieve their 
boredom and eagerness to do something, the curalli did not 
doubt he would soon be called upon to stop more conflicts.
    He turned to Filaria, trying to put his anxiety out of 
his mind. "Why do you think we should wait?" He hoped his 
voice didn't reveal his faint impatience. All the 
Annihilators wanted to obliterate the Empire; he suspected 
it was stubbornness and bad memories, rather than caution, 
that held some back.
    "At least I hope we wouldn't attack Tharassia," said 
Filaria shortly, naming the capital of the Empire. 
Sormase, a land Elwen who had briefly taken the leadership 
of the Annihilators, had nearly brought the fighting band 
to an end there. "We'll have to go after someplace 
smaller."
    "I suppose," said Phaedon in a polished voice that 
contrasted sharply with his acidic words, "you'd prefer to 
travel to Pinil?"
    Filaria drew in a breath, her green eyes going wide 
with hurt. Maruss acted instantly, the bonds on his temper 
shattering. Jesartlu Durillo, who had died at Pinil, had 
been Filaria's beloved and Maruss's best friend. "That was 
cruelly said, Phaedon Shoregazer," he snarled sharply, 
using his brother's full name to let him know how upset he 
was. "You know who died there, and for what reason he came 
there." It had been to rescue Phaedon.
    As always when he was reprimanded by his brother- at 
least lately- Phaedon's silver eyes darkened and he turned 
his head away, cheeks pale from the embarrassed rush of 
white blood. Maruss studied him for a moment, then nodded 
in satisfaction. "Apologize to each other and then go to 
the healers, both of you."
    Filaria looked at him doubtfully, red hair shining 
like trails of unicorn blood against her pale skin. "My 
apology won't be sincere."
    "Neither will mine," Phae warned.
    "Over time they will." Maruss was firm. He knew that 
if they fought beside each other in battle, all the wounds 
would be healed. "Now, say it."
    "I'm sorry, Filaria," said Phaedon in a snide voice. 
Filaria apologized also, in a sugar-sweet tone that set 
Maruss's teeth on edge. Then both of them moved, Filaria 
flying on light wings through the door, Phae waiting for a 
long moment before following her.
    Maruss turned, fully expecting to see that the earlier 
crowd had scattered. Instead, he found them waiting, 
shamefaced, as if for punishment.
    "What do you expect me to do?" he asked into the 
silence broken only by a bell-chime or two from Jierran's 
direction. "A leader does nothing without the cooperation 
and consent of his people. I would leave you with only a 
warning. If this issue divides the Annihilators- an issue 
that is not even very serious- think what a truly serious 
thing could do."
    Still no one moved or spoke. Maruss lifted his head, 
regarding them coldly and letting a bit of ice enter his 
violet eyes. "Therefore," he said in a chill tone, "I 
would ask you to stay away from fights in the future. 
There is little more horrible than knowing you have failed 
your people." He spoke from personal experience.
    The crowd began to break up and file out the door, as 
if a dismissal had been concealed in his final words. In a 
few moments, Maruss and Jierran stood alone. The curalli 
uttered a deep breath and turned to the unicorn. "I 
haven't said thank you for telling me about this."
    Jierran's horn dipped, once. "It was my honor- and my 
duty. Your friend Jesartlu taught me that." There was a 
wistful note in his voice. Jesartlu had been violently 
opposed to Jierran at first, but he had also been 
honorable and had eventually accepted him.
    Maruss smiled sadly, though he knew the violet-eyed 
silverini couldn't see him. Yes, Jes had been well-loved 
and well-respected, and it seemed he had taught many 
people a little bit of something, whether it was fighting 
skills or honor.
    Maruss shook off his melancholy as Jierran began to 
speak again. Grief or no grief, it was not his way to live 
in the past. "I am afraid I bear more bad news, though it 
is not as urgent," the unicorn said wryly. "Elenyi asked 
me to find you and tell you that you've been asked to 
speak at the Assembly tonight."
    Maruss bit back a groan. Irregularly- sometimes every 
month, sometimes closer together- the Annihilators held 
Assemblies. Ostensibly these were high holy days of some 
god or another, but really they were discussions of 
business. Maruss suspected this meeting would be to settle 
the issue of marching openly on a minald once and for all. 
He usually enjoyed Assemblies, but not when he was asked 
to speak on such a topic- though they usually forced him 
to say a word or two anyway. "Thank you," he repeated 
wearily. "Better to know about it now than later. At least 
I'll have some time to prepare."
    Jierran nodded, turned the nod into a bow, and turned 
his blindfolded eyes in the direction of the door. "If you 
will excuse me, Lord Maruss, I have some things I should 
attend to."
    "Not you with the lord business too," Maruss said in 
despair. Jierran merely smiled enigmatically and again 
bowed.
    "Get used to it," he advised softly, and exited the 
room with a sound like small bells being dropped. Maruss 
stood still for a moment, then went in search of oil.
----------------------------------------------------------
    The curalli finally located some oil on the eleventh 
platform. It seemed in dreadfully short supply, and he 
made another mental note to contact the leader of Carsina, 
a freed town on the Sweptorian Sea, and ask for more. As 
he climbed the stairs back toward the creaky lift, trying 
without success to compose a satisfactory speech in his 
mind, he became aware of a small shape following him. 
    He turned, only to find himself meeting the large eyes 
of a land Elwen child who peered up at him solemnly. "Good 
day, Lord Maruss," she chirped.
    Maruss smiled, recognizing the high-pitched, bird-like 
voice and the tangled blond hair. "Soshli," he greeted the 
youngest silversinger with a nod. "Was there something you 
wanted to ask me?"
    The girl nodded, looked anxiously about as if she 
feared someone might overhear her, and strode up the steps 
toward him. Maruss knelt so that she didn't have to strain 
to reach his ear. The twelve-year-old whispered shyly, "Is 
it true we're going to march out tonight?"
    Another rumor to squash, Maruss thought grimly. "No," 
he said gently. "The Assembly tonight is most likely to 
decide whether or not we're going to march."
    Soshli was silent for a moment, pale brow wrinkling in 
concentration. Then she looked up, her silver eyes 
suddenly bright. "I hope we do," she said in a clear 
voice.
    Maruss stared at her, startled. She wasn't hoping they 
would go to war- at least he didn't think so. But how else 
could he explain the odd shine in her eyes- or her words, 
for that matter?
    "Are you sure, Soshli?" he asked quietly. He knew the 
Annihilator children were children of war, and had 
therefore seen at least one battle, but he hadn't expected 
this eagerness. Soshli, however, clenched her fists, her 
silver eyes excited under the fall of golden hair. 
    "Yes," she said fervently. "I want to use my 
silversong." She scowled suddenly, an expression both 
petulant and oddly mature because of the radiant sorrow in 
her gaze. "I want to make the unicorns pay for Father."
    Maruss felt his face soften. Soshli's father had been 
enslaved in a raid on Fabla Slavehold some months ago. "I 
understand, Soshli," he said gently. "But you know you 
probably won't be in the fighting. We need you to sing 
with Lady Elenyi and Lord Tenico."
    "I know." Soshli lifted her head proudly, as if to the 
call of distant trumpets. "But someone has to do it. And 
the loss of the slaves will hurt the unicorns more than 
anything else," she added, sounding as if she were 
repeating something she had learned from Elenyi. Still, 
she looked a bit dispirited, as if irritated that her gift 
had singled her out so. Maruss touched her hand in a 
gesture of fellowship and turned to leave.
    He was stopped by a laugh from behind him. For a 
moment he looked back in surprise, then came near to 
laughing himself. A young elven boy, probably only seven, 
was whispering solemnly in Soshli's ear, and her face was 
lighting up as she listened. She had laughed, but in 
triumph, not in amusement. Maruss held his opinion of the 
cuteness of the scene to himself.
    Soshli was nodding enthusiastically before the elf 
even finished. She drew back to look up at the curalli, 
and Maruss recognized the elf as Hisltar, a youngster 
known for causing mischief. At the moment, he looked both 
excited and slightly apprehensive, and he dropped his eyes 
shyly when Maruss looked at him. Soshli's voice claimed 
his attention a moment later, however, speaking in formal 
tones he never heard from anybody, not even the most 
fanatic of his guards.
    "If thee will excuse us- I mean, my escort Hisltar and 
I- for we seek thy permission to withdraw-"
    Maruss, knowing his lips were twitching, nodded 
graciously. For all her talent and her eagerness to march 
to war, Soshli was still a child in some ways, it seemed. 
"Permission granted, Lady Soshli."
    Looking perfectly delighted at her new title, Soshli 
gave a bow that was cut short by Hisltar tugging her down 
the stairs. As they rounded the corner, Maruss heard the 
elf's voice rise, high and querulous. "Don't think I'll 
call you Lady Soshli!"
    Maruss dared to chuckle aloud then. Both Soshli's gift 
and her determined, emotional personality had conspired to 
make her the leader of the children, almost a younger 
Tenico. If she truly wanted the others to call her Lady 
Soshli, they would wind up doing so.
    "My Lord Maruss." The voice was so chill as to be 
barely recognizable. "I suppose this is an example of how 
you keep your promise to us?"
    Maruss looked up, flushing. Before him, as if the 
curalli's thought had summoned him, stood Tenico and about 
half the other bodyguards. Guiltily, Maruss remembered 
that he had promised not to leave the ledge without 
informing them. "I'm sorry, Tenico. I truly didn't think. 
Jierran came to summon me to take care of a fight between 
my brother and Filaria, and then I was going to oil the 
lift's chains-" He lifted the flask of oil half-heartedly, 
almost hoping it would distract their attention from him.
    It didn't. The young time Elwen fixed his eyes sternly 
on Maruss, though the effect was somewhat marred by a lock 
of straggly green hair hanging over them. "Your excuse is 
accepted, my lord," he said quietly, but with a deep hurt 
behind his tone that made Maruss wince with more guilt. 
Tenico sounded like a parent scolding a beloved but 
wearisome child- and a child who didn't, after all, have a 
very good excuse for his behavior. Subdued, Maruss allowed 
what there was of his bodyguards to close around him while 
Tenico mentally called for the others.
    Starsheen uttered a sympathetic buzz in his sheath and 
whispered invitingly, ^I can help get you free, if you 
want. They won't dare hurt you, and those pitiful ordinary 
knives and swords can't stand up to me.^
    "No," said Maruss wearily, aloud, without thinking. 
Tenico turned with an expression that suggested this was 
hardly the time for Maruss to say no to anything.
    "Just talking to my knife," the curalli explained with 
an embarrassed smile. The triltna's green eyes narrowed 
for the briefest instant, but it was obvious he could find 
no lies in Maruss's words.
    "My Lord, I heard you have been asked to speak at the 
Assembly tonight," he said instead. "If you are truly 
repentant, do not stand on the dais of Chilune." Maruss 
was used to speaking from the third step of the altar of 
the Goddess of Mischief- any higher won him hisses from 
her priests- but the guards insisted on grouping 
themselves around him, and thus higher. Only if he stayed 
on the floor would everyone be happy. Maruss already knew 
he would agree; he felt too guilty to do anything else.
    I really hate how my friends take advantage of me when 
I've done something wrong, he thought, but said aloud, "If 
you wish it so."
----------------------------------------------------------
    Maruss suffered a humiliating vespermeal. Before, they 
had at least permitted him to eat alone; now they not only 
stood around him, Tenico tested his food. "Maybe this 
stranger hasn't done anything yet because he wants to lull 
us," he explained stubbornly to Maruss's accusing stare. 
"Putting poison in your food would be just the sort of 
thing somebody would try after a while. At least it will 
kill me first."
    Maruss was tempted to point out this tactic wouldn't 
work with a truly slow-acting poison, but he held his 
tongue in check. They soon might be refusing to let him 
eat anything at all.
    It was a long climb from the bottom levels, where the 
kitchens were, to the thirtieth level holding the Chapel 
Chamber. They paused outside the gold-decorated stone 
doors to let Tenico examine them for traps. Maruss shifted 
impatiently from foot to foot. He could see no need- well, 
perhaps he could, but did they have to be so bedamned 
persistent?
    "Your assassins are thorough, Lord Maruss," said 
Tenico, as if reading his mind. "Granted, Destria-" he 
spoke the name with a sneer "-has failed five times before 
to capture you, but then he entrusted the deed to 
unicorns. If he starts using Elwen slaves, who knows what 
he could do?"
    Maruss resented the not-so-hidden implication that the 
one who had entered Coroncheer was a spy or assassin, and 
responded logically. "His Elwen spies- if he has any- must 
be pretty clever if they've learned to enter through the 
Song Door."
    Tenico glared for a moment, then shrugged and 
pronounced the doors safe. Maruss glided in through them, 
the guards sticking nearly as tightly to him as a second 
skin.
    The eyes of the crowd, seated in the center of the 
enormous room in long rows of chairs, turned curiously on 
him. Maruss saw that some people sat on the floor and 
winced inwardly. They would either have to find more 
chairs or a bigger meeting room to take care of the surge 
in Annihilator numbers. 
    His eyes roamed over the crowd, seeking his friends 
and siblings. Elenyi, his wolf Elwen foster sister, sat 
near the front of the crowd. Though she looked worn and 
haggard- she had both her duties in the Annihilators and 
as Queen of a Wolf-home to consider- she was still lovely, 
with gold-green eyes, night-blue skin sprinkled with small 
silver dots like stars, and deep blue hair tinted with 
silver. At the moment she was arguing with a sulky- 
looking daywolf- a huge white canine whose golden collar 
indicated he was a priest- about a silver coronet. Elenyi 
had so far refused to wear a crown, though all her 
subjects kept pressing her to. Beside her, her beloved, 
Terling, also a wolf Elwen and King of a corresponding 
Wolf-home, watched in sympathy. He was dressed shamelessly 
in silver, though his hair, eyes, and skin were all that 
color; he had a near mania for it.
    Larelina Lafoxbane, the land Elwen sorceress who had 
been closest in friendship with Jesartlu, sat near the 
front, flexing her fingers as if preparing to launch a 
magical spell. Maruss knew she was more likely simply 
tired, however. She had been drafted into teaching the 
numerous new Annihilators with a gift for magic, and had 
had scarcely a moment's rest since. She smiled wearily at 
him as he passed, and Maruss made a mental note to get her 
some help.
    Beside Larelina was Geruth, a viaquia or sunset Elwen 
with violet hair, deep purple skin, and eyes the color of 
an evening sky. At the moment he stared dreamily into the 
distance, his lips relaxed and smiling- an unusual sight. 
The vampiric Elwen was usually tense and nervous, since, 
after all, his kind did drink blood and he could smell the 
warm liquid in every living being around him. Still, 
tonight he seemed fine. Maruss hoped his squashing of the 
vampire rumor had something to do with it.
    The guards came to a halt with Maruss at the foot of 
Chilune's dais, Tenico gripping the curalli's arm as if to 
remind him not to climb it. Maruss nodded reassuringly and 
took a deep breath as he turned to face the crowd.
    This would not be easy.
    Before he could say anything, someone enthusiastically 
called, "A song! A song!"
    Maruss, taken a bit by surprise, grinned and closed 
his eyes, concentrating. His stone, gem-stringed harp, a 
gift from his dead foster mother, Maana, came to his call, 
appearing at his feet with a minimum of fuss. Picking it 
up, Maruss tuned it as he glanced around inquiringly. 
Requests began to pour in so fast his ears could barely 
separate the words.
    " 'Where The Trees Are Free!' "
    " "Wolkani Farewell!' "
    " "The River Leaper!' "
    Maruss chose the last one, a song about the hero North 
Deerfriend, and launched into the opening notes. People 
settled expectantly as the song trotted through the air. 
Maruss thought it oddly appropriate to the evening; it 
opened with a melancholy rush of notes, almost ambiguous 
ones, echoing the way he was feeling.

"Before ever the kings and princes fell,
 Before ever the Dragonlord left Dragon Dell,
 The main river of Minamar was unknown and unnamed,
 And it rolled to the sea wild and untamed.

"It had on it a spell born of the snowmelt rolling down
 From the Northern Spires' icy indigo crown,
 A spell that lurked on cascade high and bottom deep:
 Even across the narrowest places, none could leap.

"He that tried was thrown casually back on the grass,
 While the water went foaming on like liquid glass,
 Singing smugly to itself, Minamar's unnamed queen,
 Playing organs of blue and drums all flashing green.
"Gradually, a tradition grew up about taming it:
 That whoever leaped the river had the honor of naming it.
 Many tried, but the river remained simply itself,
 And many left a disgraced Elwen or elf.

"Then came a young Elwen, North Deerfriend,
 Born of the line that since Nerlk, without end,
 Has through centuries on centuries gone on,
 But it was born only five hundred years after the Dawn.

"He simply followed the river to its icy source,
 Walking for days beside the nameless wide course,
 Until he came to a narrow cave all white and blue:
 The indigo walls flashed back the water's shimmering hue.

"He leaped it there, and in that moment the spell
 Collapsed without even the dignity of a death knell.
 The waters trembled as a cliff will sometimes shiver,
 And in that moment they became North's River.

"No one has ever found, from this day to that,
 The cave where the River's spell at last fell flat.
 But though North has died, as all of us do,
 North's River still rolls to the sea crowned with blue."

    There was long applause when Maruss was done. The 
curalli suspected the song had relaxed people, taking 
their minds- temporarily- off their business and reminding 
them that people had accomplished things in the past. If 
it had been done then, why not now?
    With a sigh, Maruss let the last chord fade away and 
set the harp down. The silence grew again, but this time 
it was merely expectant, not so tense or curious. Maruss 
noted that many people looked at him with faith, as if he 
had the solution to this problem.
    I do- but only if they will work with me. "Good 
evening," he said aloud, and then was forced to pause for 
a moment as the priests of Dermand the Sunset Lord bowed 
in the direction of the dusk-shrouded altar. He continued, 
"I'm sure all of you are aware of the issue we have 
gathered here to discuss."
    There was a murmur of assent, and Maruss saw a few 
people stir in their seats. His eyebrows went up. That was 
the part of the crowd where those opposed to open attack 
had taken to sitting. It had always been shrinking, but 
now there were only twenty left. Perhaps they would agree, 
if only out of fear of being attacked.
    But Maruss wanted no one to agree for that reason 
alone, and not to fear at all. He made his voice soothing 
as he said, "I can understand both the excitement of those 
who believe we should attack-" a cheer went up, again 
forcing him to pause "-and the caution of those who 
believe we should not."
    There were angry hisses this time, but Maruss noted 
that they were not as loud as the cheer. Good, he thought 
with relief. "I am sure all of us are aware of the 
arguments for both sides. We have larger numbers now, and 
almost all of us are trained fighters or mages. More 
slaves live in one unicorn minald, yet less than one in a 
thousand can fight. And I hardly think the unicorns would 
be willing to risk their gladiators on a battlefield."
    He hadn't meant that as a joke, but some people 
chuckled. Maruss continued more relaxed. "Without the 
Wellspring to resurrect their dead, the unicorns will be 
more cautious about attacking themselves. And they have no 
idea where we are right now, or why we have been quiet so 
long. We have the advantage of surprise, and more 
silversingers in addition to more soldiers.
    "On the other hand, we are still small, and the 
training of many is not complete. Unicorn slaves will 
fight, though not well, to defend their masters. And the 
unicorns themselves are being trained to fight, or are old 
enough to remember it. They'll take the field if the 
situation grows desperate. The advantage of surprise might 
grow if we wait, and do we dare risk our silversingers?"
    Larelina, one of the most ardent supporters of open 
attack despite its failure last time, stood. "Permission 
to speak, Lord Maruss."
    "Granted."
    "The advantage of surprise will disappear if we wait 
too long," the blond land Elwen declared solemnly, turning 
to stare out over the crowd. "The unicorns will prepare 
themselves and come against us anyway, since they have a 
pretty good idea of where Coroncheer lies, if not the 
exact location. And we will have to risk the silversingers 
and soldiers at some time. After all, what else is war 
about?"
    Maruss saw the people who still opposed open attack 
hesitate, wavering. Then Filaria rose to her feet, 
unconsciously spreading her wings to make herself look 
bigger than she really was. "If I may speak, Lord Maruss?"
    "Yes."
    "Can we not wait?" the young wind Elwen asked 
wistfully. "All of us have suffered losses in battle, not 
least when Sormase led us. How do we know this attack 
won't be a disaster as well?"
    "We were stupid when Sormase led us," someone unseen 
called. Half the crowd laughed, and even Maruss bit his 
lip to stifle a chuckle. It was no more than the truth. 
The Annihilators had marched to Tharassia clad in gaudy 
clothes and playing trumpets, trusting to the unicorns to 
open the gates and free the slaves of their own accord. 
They had been lucky to suffer no worse than the loss of a 
few unicorns and a temporary scattering.
    And yet Sormase had redeemed himself in death, 
attempting to protect Jesartlu Durillo. It wasn't his 
fault that Jes had been doomed, that he had won only death 
for himself. Though Maruss usually disdained such 
thoughts, he had to admit that a noble passing, on that 
occasion at least, had been reality.
    Filaria sat down again, pondering, then looked up. "I 
still think it's a bad idea," she said sincerely, green 
eyes somber beneath her fall of red hair. "But Sormase 
does not lead us this time. As long as nothing else 
divides us, we should be all right. Have you drawn battle 
plans, Lord Maruss?"
    Maruss stared closely at Filaria for a moment, trying 
to make sure she wasn't being mentally coerced into 
anything, then nodded and put one hand in his pocket, 
drawing out the parchment on which he had drawn a map of 
Firmsod Minald. The small "city" huddled in the foothills 
of the Spires, a long way from help, and though its 
inhabitants lived in fear of the Annihilators, neither 
they nor their slavehold had yet been touched. It was a 
good place to reemerge from hiding.
    Maruss looked inquiringly at Larelina. The land Elwen 
nodded and closed her eyes in concentration. The faint 
smell of magic filled the air, and then a much bigger, 
translucent picture of the plans appeared on the wall 
behind Chilune's dais. Maruss smiled his thanks and began 
pointing out the features, letting the shadow of his hand 
do the work.
    "The silversingers- Lady Elenyi, Lord Tenico, and Lady 
Soshli- will stand here," he said, pointing to the rise 
above the minald. "I'm planning on sending soldiers to 
encircle the back entrances and gates of the minald, with 
at least one fire Elwen in each party."
    Maruss saw the satisfied grins of the vermili sitting 
in the crowd. As creatures of ice, the silverini were 
particularly vulnerable to the flame Elwens' natural 
weapon.
    Maruss traced a thin line leading to a small dot in 
the east. "I'll have soldiers on the road from the 
slavehold to delay any help that might rush to the minald. 
I'm planning on positioning Lord Geruth there as well, to 
bolster the defense with his illusion." He shot an 
inquiring glance at his brother and received a satisfied 
smile. The viaquia liked to be reminded he had skills 
beyond drinking blood.
    Reassured, Maruss continued, "The flyers will deal 
with attack from above. I'm hoping Lady Tirosina will send 
a contingent of her ravens, but if she doesn't-" He lifted 
his shoulders to indicate that he wasn't counting on it. 
The Goddess of Evil Music had ever been a fickle ally. 
"I'm sure they'll fit themselves into the attack if they 
do arrive," he said to placate the Tirosina fanatics in 
the crowd.
    "I'd like the wolves- assuming it is the will of their 
King and Queen- to enter the minald itself and drive the 
unicorns toward the fire Elwens and the soldiers outside." 
He saw the wolves in the crowd smile with anticipation. 
Over the near-year since the formation of the 
Annihilators, they had learned how panicky the unicorns 
grew at the sight of them and how to put that to good use.
    Elenyi looked up, pushing one night-blue lock from her 
eyes. Maruss noted with amusement that no coronet 
encircled her head. "We'll do it, Lord Maruss." The 
curalli nodded his thanks and switched to the two left- 
over parts of his plan.
    "The mages may be wherever they like- with the defense 
on the slavehold road, guarding the silversingers, with 
the soldiers or inside the minald itself. The Touched can 
choose as well, though they may be of most use inside the 
minald," he said, naming those people who had such gifts 
as teleportation, precognition, and the ability to feed on 
minds.
    He saw Aeren, his friend and the accepted leader of 
the Touched, lift his head. The dawn Elwen's gold-silver 
eyes gleamed with excitement. "In the minald, at least for 
me," the alalori promised, and Maruss checked a sigh. 
Aeren had good reason to hate the unicorns, but that 
hatred combined with his ability to remove minds or blank 
them was rather unnerving.
    "Thank you," said the curalli, knowing the Touched 
would follow their leader. He turned an inquiring gaze out 
over the crowd. "Any questions?"
    A high, clear voice said, "You have left no place for 
us, Lord Maruss."
    The curalli started. He could have sworn he had found 
a place for everyone. A moment later, he recognized the 
voice and found himself even more surprised. "Lady 
Soshli?" he asked incredulously. "But you're with the 
silversingers, right here." He tapped the spot on the map 
that marked the hill.
    "No," said Soshli's voice stubbornly. "I mean us." 
There was a movement in the crowd as of people swimming 
underwater, and then an odd little procession marched into 
view.
    At the head of it were the silver-eyed land Elwen and 
the young elf, Hisltar, who looked both proud and nervous, 
but held a knife as if he knew how to use it. Soshli had a 
bow slung across her back. Maruss remembered Elenyi's 
complaints that the girl had missed half her lessons, and 
suddenly knew where she had been: watching the weapons 
practice.
    Following them were most of the Annihilator children, 
save for the very youngest, making a force of twenty-five 
in all. Soshli was the oldest; most were about Hisltar's 
age, but all held obviously filched blades in a practiced 
manner. Soshli marched like a little queen at the head of 
them, tilting her head up proudly to meet his stare with 
shining eyes. "We want to fight," she said flatly.
    There were disbelieving noises and laughter from the 
audience, and Maruss saw many of the children flush 
darkly. He hurried in before they could feel anymore 
embarrassed. "I appreciate your valor, Lady Soshli. But 
you are needed with the silversingers, and the rest of you 
are too young." Might as well tell them the truth, if 
gently.
    Soshli refused to back down. "I've read the old 
books," she said pointedly. "You're only about four times 
my age, Lord Maruss. If these were the ancient times we've 
been working to bring back, you'd still be a child as 
well. And yet you not only fight, you're the leader."
    Maruss sighed. How to explain this to her? How did one 
fight a child's determination? "Lady Soshli, that's 
different. Elwens live for thousands of years, and if 
these truly were the ancient times, we wouldn't be 
fighting this war in the first place. But you haven't even 
reached your full height yet, and-" He nodded to Hisltar 
and many of the youngsters who stood silent behind the 
silversinger. "I don't mean to ridicule you, but you would 
be more use here at home. Your parents won't fight well if 
they're worrying about you."
    "We already asked our parents," said Soshli smugly, as 
if she'd been waiting for that very question. She turned 
to look toward her mother, a red-haired land Elwen. "Tell 
him, Mother."
    The land Elwen- her name was Kanda, Maruss remembered- 
rose to her feet, silver eyes determined. "My daughter 
wishes the opportunity to pay back the unicorns for the 
loss of her father," said the woman quietly, firmly, her 
determination a copy of Soshli's. "These other children 
also go to avenge such losses, or to prove themselves in 
battle. Are you saying they're not good enough to come?"
    "No." Maruss felt dazed, confused. He was sure his 
viewpoint was the right one, but he couldn't seem to come 
up with any logical arguments to defend it, only emotional 
ones. Finally, he said, "It is bad enough when ordinary 
Annihilators are enslaved or slain. Would you want the 
same thing to happen to your children?"
    "It won't if you're with them," shouted an elf who 
looked like Hisltar's father. "Or if you spare a 
detachment of your best soldiers to guard them."
    "From where?" Maruss asked helplessly, stabbing a 
finger at the map. "The entrances to the minald and the 
slavehold road must be held. I can't spare anyone from 
that."
    The elf refused to be shaken. "Lord Geruth will be on 
the road, and if you put some Touched among the flame 
Elwens, no unicorns should escape," he predicted 
confidently. "Surely you can spare thirty or so soldiers 
to go with the children?"
    "You still haven't answered my question," Maruss said, 
his eyes boring steadily into the elf's. "What if- despite 
the guards- they are killed or enslaved?"
    "These children are at least as mature as adults- at 
least I know my son is." Hisltar beamed at his father, who 
beamed back. "We all go into battle knowing we might be 
taken or trampled. Undeniably there is danger. But should 
we deny the children the right to defend the Annihilators 
and their cause simply because of that?"
    Maruss was tempted to say yes. Always before, save on 
Sormase's suicidal march, the children had been left 
behind, protected. Something in his heart shrieked over 
exposing younglings to danger. He didn't know why, 
especially since he wasn't a father himself. He stared 
down at the little group indecisively.
    Soshli lifted her head and met his eyes defiantly. In 
those silver eyes, Maruss saw courage and the maturity 
Hisltar's father had spoken of. The land Elwen child had 
fully accepted the fact that she might die or fall into 
the silverini slavery from which she had been rescued, but 
she did not care- as long as she was given the chance to 
take her vengeance.
    That emotion chilled Maruss. Surely it did not belong 
in the eyes of a child so young. But then, he did not 
dictate Soshli's heart or her emotions. Perhaps the girl 
was right. Perhaps she would prove more use on the 
battlefield, a dedicated fighter, then as a half-trained 
silversinger.
    Therefore, it came as somewhat of a surprise even to 
Maruss himself when he shook his head and said quietly, 
"No."
    "How dare you deny them?" Kanda's face was as flushed 
as her daughter's, but from anger rather than shock. 
"Surely you felt like killing unicorns after you lost 
Jesartlu Durillo?"
    Maruss knew everyone had seen his wince. "I did," he 
said calmly, "but the situation was far different. It was 
not a battle, and I controlled myself. This is a 
calculated risk we are taking." He stretched out his hands 
imploringly, silently asking them to see. "Not even the 
silverini send their children into battle. The occasional 
foal who gets killed, such as Destria's granddaughter, 
Zea, is there by accident rather than intention. We have 
striven through the last months to be better than the 
unicorns, to have higher ideals. Will we let any child of 
ours get killed at all?"
    "They won't," said Kanda obstinately, "if you're with 
them. I noticed you hadn't detailed a place for yourself." 
Her silver eyes narrowed, inviting him to explain.
    Maruss had long ago sworn an oath by the stars to tell 
the truth to those who believed as he did, and he did so 
now, if unwillingly. "I had planned to be with the wolves, 
the Touched, or the soldiers at the minald gates," he said 
reluctantly.
    "Ah ha." Kanda looked positively gleeful. "Why?"
    Maruss wondered irritably if she was deliberately 
trying to torture him. "It's in the thick of the 
fighting," he admitted. "I'll have the most chance to make 
sure the unicorns don't escape."
    "It's also the most dangerous place," said Kanda. "If 
our leader can take risks, why not our children?"
    Maruss clenched his jaw and looked at her in silence, 
wishing he could find the words to explain. What could he 
say, however, beyond his feeling that it was different? 
    And then, as if persuaded by his desperation, the 
words came to him.
    "I agreed to take risks," he said quietly. "Part of 
the job. But we never asked the children if they wanted 
to." Privately he was still confused. Whose idea had this 
been? Hisltar's? Soshli's? But why?
    "Well, they've agreed to," someone else murmured 
sullenly. "Why can't we let them do it now?"
    "There still remains the question of what will happen 
should-" Maruss began.
    "Should we get killed or taken?" Soshli gave him a 
smile of cool pity, such as one might give a raving 
lunatic. "My Lord Maruss, that won't happen. We can keep 
ahead of the tide of battle well enough to avoid such 
things. Or do you have so little confidence in us?"
    Maruss looked at her in unhappy silence. He still 
hadn't been persuaded, but when he looked out over the 
audience, not one face wore an expression of sympathy for 
him. He had read all his life that leaders ruled only with 
the will of their people. What choice did he have now but 
to back down?
    "Very well," he said reluctantly, and tried not to see 
the radiant triumph in Soshli's smile. He laid a hand on 
the map, firmly fixing his eyes on the drawn lines so that 
no one would see the worry on his face. "Where do you want 
to be placed?"
    "That depends on who our guards will be," Soshli 
replied loftily. "Yourself, or ordinary soldiers?"
    Maruss was tempted to assign their parents to guard 
them, but he knew it wouldn't work. The parents would 
either be too worried or too proud to concentrate on the 
battle. Besides, some of those parents were mages or 
Touched, and needed elsewhere. "Myself," he said at last. 
If he had to permit this insanity, it might as well be 
under his direction.
    Soshli looked as if this weren't the answer she had 
expected. "In the thick of battle?" she said slowly, and 
he could tell she retained a grain of sense- if not much 
more, he thought spitefully. "We're so inexperienced, Lord 
Maruss. We might be more of a hindrance than a help in the 
minald itself." She patted her bow and indicated the few 
others who carried. "Besides, some of us are archers. We 
wouldn't want to kill people of our own side 
accidentally."
    Maruss nodded. "Will you serve as guards for the 
silversingers then?" he asked, knowing precious few of the 
mages would want that duty. Most of them, like Larelina, 
possessed a hatred for unicorns, an enthusiasm for magic, 
and strong creative ability for combining the two.
    Soshli hesitated, as if she thought he was doing this 
to punish her for missing her silversinging lessons, then 
nodded slowly and looked at him with a half-smile. "You 
are still our leader, Lord Maruss. You possess the right 
to command us to such a duty if you please."
    Oh really? Maruss thought sarcastically but didn't 
say. Though he didn't care for the burdens of leadership, 
he had a strong sense of responsibility, and was in any 
case starsworn not to rest until the unicorns were 
defeated. Aloud he said, "That won't be necessary if you 
agree to assume the position on your own." He looked out 
over the crowd. "Now, who wants to guard them?"
    As he had strongly suspected, there was no lack of 
volunteers, though he carefully and deliberately did not 
choose the parents. They looked slightly disappointed- at 
least those he could see- but Kanda appeared openly angry. 
Maruss checked a sigh. The land Elwen Annihilators in the 
old, small group had practice in checking their powerful 
emotions, releasing them in battle. But the volatile Kanda 
might unleash them here- a doubly disastrous prospect, 
since land Elwens possessed the power to call flame, 
lightning, even disease when angered, their emotion 
translating itself into magic.
    As soon as he had answered other questions and soothed 
objections, the Assembly began to break up, people moving 
in large clumps toward the door of the Chapel. Some 
chatted, some kept their thoughts to themselves, some 
paused to bow to the altar of whatever god or goddess they 
worshiped. The chorus of daywolves in praise of Jvevanni, 
the Lady of Life and Death, started up again. It never 
seemed to stop, save when all the daywolves were in 
Assembly or off in battle. Religion had proved far more of 
a healing power- at least to the elves and wolves- than 
Maruss, not very religious himself, had ever thought.
    He moved toward the door, inexplicably weary and 
looking forward to collapsing in bed. His head pounded as 
if he had overextended his mental powers, though all he 
had done was worry. His bodyguards marched close beside 
him, peering suspiciously at every person who passed, as 
if they could identify the mysterious intruder by sight.
    Someone circled around them and stepped in front of 
him. Maruss looked up and restrained his groan. It was 
Kanda, her silver eyes shimmering against the flame of her 
hair like water that refused to put out a forest fire. Her 
brows were narrowed and drawn down, and her cheeks were 
flushed- all sure signs that she was about to launch into 
a tirade.
    "Could it wait?" Maruss asked wearily, though he knew 
she wouldn't grant him that favor. When she started in 
anyway, he sighed and leaned on Tenico's supportive arm, 
massaging his temples.
    "This is inexcusable, Lord Maruss." Kanda appeared to 
be frothing at the mouth. "Why would anybody save me be 
assigned to guard my Soshli?"
    "You're her mother, Lady Kanda," said the curalli 
quietly. "I'm sorry, but it's a simple fact that you would 
concentrate on her to the exclusion of all else, including 
the battle. Someone might need your help, but you wouldn't 
be able to give it if you were wrapped up in Lady Soshli."
    "I can but imitate my daughter's words." Kanda adopted 
a dramatic pose that Maruss found distinctly annoying. 
"You have so little faith in me?"
    "Do you want my honest answer, Lady Kanda?" Maruss 
asked her. "You're not going to like it."
    "If the stories I've heard are true, you don't have 
any choice but to tell the truth," the land Elwen replied. 
She curled her lip slightly, and Maruss guessed she didn't 
believe the stories. Well, good. At least here was someone 
convinced he was no more than Elwen, though she saw only 
his flaws.
    "Yes," Maruss said bluntly, and she looked confused 
until he elaborated. "I'm afraid, Lady Kanda, that you 
would. I don't know you well," he admitted casually, "and 
I may be completely off the mark. I do know you're a 
loving, devoted mother." He looked up at her, wishing 
again he was taller. Six feet was the normal height for an 
Elwen, and at five, Maruss was often forced to overcome an 
unconscious prejudice that he was a child. Still, he held 
her silver eyes with his violet ones, hoping she could 
respect his answer. "But where your daughter is concerned 
in battle, being a loving and devoted mother is not 
necessarily a good thing."
    Kanda looked at him for a long moment, then laughed a 
pure, crystalline laugh. Maruss was not fooled, however, 
by that or by her light voice. He had trained himself to 
be sensitive to emotions for a long time, and in any case 
it was clear from Kanda's shaking how angry she was. She 
looked as if she might slap him, but for the presence of 
the guards. "Soshli was right, Lord Maruss. You are 
nothing more than a child- a child trying futilely to rule 
his betters."
    The two things Maruss hated most in all the world were 
being used and being unjustly accused. His eyes narrowed, 
and he spat out words he wouldn't have used otherwise. "I 
do not rule my betters, Lady Kanda. There is a difference 
between rulership and leadership- and betters are not 
betters simply because of age."
    For a moment the two Elwens matched wills in tense 
silence, until Maruss saw in Kanda's eyes a flame of 
greasy hatred. He held in check both impatience and fear. 
In the old days, the land Elwens had possessed a blood- 
hatred for their curalli cousins that almost made them 
attack when faced with a shadowed Elwen- something the 
unicorns hadn't managed to breed out of them. It could be 
controlled, Maruss knew, and the fact that Kanda wasn't 
controlling it right now meant she was deliberately 
insulting him.
    "Do you wish to challenge me, Lady Kanda?" he asked 
quietly. "There might be a small problem with the other 
Annihilators about that." Tenico's tense stirring and 
shifting at his side meant there would be a problem with 
him as well.
    Kanda merely stared, then closed her eyes and opened 
them again. The fire of hatred was gone like the light of 
a lamp behind closed window-shutters. "No, Lord Maruss," 
she said in a neutral voice, in which Maruss nevertheless 
detected rage. "I will not." Turning away, she paused and 
added with what she no doubt thought dramatic flair, "But 
neither will I forget."
    Maruss nodded and waved her away, too tired to do 
anything else. He resumed his stumbling pace out of the 
Chapel toward his room, the guards keeping up their 
vigilant pacing around him. 
    They had almost reached the hall containing Maruss's 
room when an elf came running up to them, wheezing. Tenico 
started to challenge him, but Maruss restrained his hand, 
recognizing the elf. "What is it, Flame?" he asked the 
red-haired forestland elf gently.
    The old doorwarden, one of his closest friends, lifted 
his lined face. Bright green eyes, fear-ridden emeralds, 
drove into his soul. "We have reason to believe the 
intruder was hiding in your chambers," he blurted. "I 
walked past and saw the door open. I know you always lock 
it."
    "Yes." Maruss's muscles had tensed. Stars curse it, 
did he have to deal with this when all he wanted was to go 
to sleep?
    "I looked in and saw-" Flame shuddered slightly, then 
regained control of himself. "Someone seated on the bed 
with his back to me. I think he was reading something, for 
I heard the crackle of pages. Elves can't smell as you 
Elwens can, of course, but I knew he wasn't you by the 
hair." He nodded toward Maruss's own indigo mane. "His was 
brighter. I don't know what color it was; I didn't get a 
truly good look. I-"
    "When was this?" Maruss interrupted.
    "Just now-"
    The curalli launched himself free of his bodyguards, 
racing down the hall and ignoring their cries. As Flame 
had said, the door to his room was open. He skidded in and 
stared alertly around, ready for battle.
    There was no one in sight, but as Flame had said, a 
book lay on the bed. Keeping a wary watch on the walls and 
the ceiling, Maruss moved farther in. When he picked up 
the book, he was even more puzzled. It was nothing more 
harmful than a collection of alfar tales he had kept as a 
memento of his childhood.
    Once again, the stranger had used magic to disguise 
his scent, and by the time Maruss's guards came panting 
up, the curalli knew he was long gone. His only question, 
as he tumbled wearily into bed:
    What did he want? So far this stranger hadn't actually 
tried to kill him, or steal anything.
    Why was he here? And who was he?




                        Chapter 2
                        Preparing
    "Maruss! My Lord Maruss!"
    Maruss looked around, startled. He had thought no one 
was in this corridor save him and Tenico, who had taken to 
accompanying the curalli nearly everywhere. The rest of 
the bodyguards were still eating, and Maruss had agreed to 
meet them back at his chambers. He had wanted to wander 
through Coroncheer free- or nearly free- as in the old 
days.
    But now, hurrying toward him, was the peach Elwen 
Gigan. When the Annihilators had been organized into 
nemlafi- small, fast-moving bands of twenty members each- 
the zolonora, who possessed the gift of teleportation, had 
served as Maruss's scout. Maruss had rarely seen him since 
then, but now his pink-and-gold face looked urgent. He 
halted. "Yes, Gigan?"
    Gigan stopped as well, breathing heavily. It was 
obvious he'd been sprinting at top speed to find his lord. 
When he had at last caught his breath, he looked up. "Lord 
Dustdancer has arrived on the ledge outside the Song Door 
and requests your presence."
    Maruss cursed lowly. Dustdancer was lord of the free 
gryphons, an arrogant bunch with plenty of contempt for 
the "groundbound." Maruss had only ever gotten to know and 
like Dustdancer's father and brother, though he had first 
contacted the gryphons a year before. "I'll go at once."
    Gigan gamely started to follow him, and Maruss looked 
at him kindly. The peach Elwen had run instead of 
teleported because he hadn't known where Maruss was, but 
that could change now. "Teleport yourself to the kitchens, 
Gigan, and then to your chambers. You might as well rest 
for a while."
    Gigan gave him the ghost of a smile and a wry salute. 
"I shall consider that a direct command, oh mighty lord," 
he said, bowed, and vanished without fanfare. Maruss 
chuckled slightly and turned to make his way toward the 
Song Door. 
    Tenico was scowling disapprovingly, to Maruss's 
surprise, but he said nothing until the curalli halted and 
asked him directly what was wrong. "Not much, lord," said 
Tenico slowly, "and it's probably not my place to comment 
on this. But Dustdancer-" the time Elwen consistently 
refused to give titles to people he disliked "-has tried 
to hurt you before. I wish you'd asked Gigan if his 
brother was there as well. Then I would trust him."
    Maruss scowled slightly. He could barely stand a 
bodyguard, much less an overprotective one. "You're right, 
Tenico," he observed coolly. "It's not really your place 
to comment on it. And no, I won't call Gigan back from his 
well-deserved rest. Lord Dustdancer is waiting."
    He stressed the title ever so slightly, and Tenico 
gave a bow of acceptance. Maruss went on his way, the time 
Elwen silent at his side, doing his best to swallow his 
anger.
    The guards at the Song Door, as Maruss had feared, 
went through the silly routine of bowing all over again. 
He barely acknowledged them, and insisted on tapping the 
crystals for the song himself. The guards watched him in 
adoration, Tenico in sullen silence- both of which made 
Maruss uncomfortable. At last the door ground open, and 
they stepped outside.
    Standing on the ledge, and occupying most of it, was 
an amber gryphon nearly thirty feet tall. The feathers 
that had earned him his name sparkled brilliantly, almost 
with a coppery sheen, in the light of the new-risen sun. 
His wings were spread, as if to balance himself or show 
off the silken perfection of his primaries. He turned his 
great eagle's head toward them, sun skipping off the 
curved beak and hard amber-gold eyes.
    "Well met, Maruss Freewind, Lord of the Annihilators," 
he said softly- or as softly as a gryphon could- with his 
kind's whistling accent. "I trust I find you well?"
    Knowing how gryphons loved to stand on ceremony, 
Maruss gave him a slight bow. "Very well, Dustdancer, Lord 
of the Free Gryphons. And you?"
    "Very well, thank you." As if some deciding point had 
been reached, Dustdancer folded his wings and settled them 
about him, rocking only slightly under the influence of a 
powerful gust of wind. He settled down as only a gryphon 
could, somehow folding both front talons and hind paws 
beneath him. "I came for a reason," he announced.
    How obvious, thought Maruss. But he waited patiently.
    "I wish to join the free gryphons to the 
Annihilators," Dustdancer said suddenly. His head was 
lowered slightly, his gleaming eyes fastened to Maruss's 
face as if to take note of his every nuance of expression.
    If he had expected a stunned reaction, he was not 
disappointed. Maruss felt his jaw hanging open and had to 
make a sizable effort to close it. "The free gryphons wish 
to do this?" he blurted.
    The old Dustdancer would have taken offense at that, 
but it almost seemed a new one sat there. Slowly, 
solemnly, he nodded. Maruss shook his head in wonder. "I 
accept your offer," he said, though he still wondered how 
Dustdancer had overcome his people's contempt for the 
groundbound- and his own, for that matter.
    Dustdancer curved his beak in the gryphon semblance of 
a smile and bowed his head. "It shall be as you say. Winds 
and the sky witness it."
    "Winds and the sky witness it," Maruss repeated, 
knowing the gryphons considered this a binding oath. "Will 
you join us in the attack on Firmsod Minald, then?"
    Dustdancer looked up quickly, so quickly Maruss 
instinctively flinched. Any swift movement of that 
immense, hooked raptor's beak looked dangerous. The 
gryphon's eyes shone with even more intensity than before. 
"So? It has finally come to open attack?"
    Maruss nodded. "We intend to wipe out the minald," he 
said firmly, though inwardly he still quailed a little in 
doubt. Could they do it? Did they have a right to?
    He remembered unicorn foals he had seen gamboling in 
the meadows; he remembered Destria's granddaughter, Zea, 
killed in the same rockslide that had taken the lives of 
Jesartlu and Sormase. Then he remembered the beatings and 
horrible conditions he had seen in the slaveholds, the 
casual way unicorns treated their slaves, and the scars 
Phaedon still bore from torture. His face and resolve 
firmed again. He had never intended to commit genocide on 
the unicorns, but destruction of a minald and freeing of 
slaves was hardly that. If he was lucky, not many 
silverini would be killed in the attack at all- though he 
knew that was wistful thinking. Better to wish for few 
Annihilator deaths.
    "I'm planning to have the flyers come in over the 
minald," he explained to Dustdancer. "Think you could fit 
the gryphons in there somewhere?"
    "Of course." The amber gryphon's wings flexed, as if 
in anticipation of the flight. "When do you march?"
    "Tomorrow." Maruss himself hadn't thought they would 
be ready so fast, but the Annihilators tended to do things 
quickly when they got enthusiastic. Abruptly an idea 
occurred to him. "If the battle isn't so thick that your 
people are needed on every side, could you guard our 
silversingers?"
    "Why?" Amusement laced Dustdancer's voice, but there 
was a sharp glint of interest in his eyes. "Lady Elenyi 
has made it perfectly clear that she can do without my 
protection."
    "But we have other silversingers." Maruss indicated 
the time Elwen at his side. "Lord Tenico, here." Triltna 
and gryphon lord nodded to each other, though the 
bodyguard's gaze was still wary. "The main reason I ask is 
that Annihilator children will be helping to guard them, 
and I'll be busy elsewhere. I'd appreciate an eye on 
them."
    "Children?" Dustdancer's crest flattened, and he 
looked at Maruss incredulously. "We do not let our 
gryphlings fight until they can fly. What madness is 
this?"
    Despite the flush of embarrassment he could feel 
creeping up his cheeks, Maruss was glad that someone else 
apparently thought this was a bad idea as well. "They 
convinced me- and, more importantly, their parents," he 
said with a helpless shrug. "They'll be fighting, though 
not in the main part of the battle if I have anything to 
do with it."
    Dustdancer grinned slightly. "Good luck. I did not 
have much success with my brother." He seemed about to 
rise to his feet, then hesitated. "How many of them? If 
I'm going to spare gryphons, I should know."
    "About twenty-five," Maruss told him. The hard amber 
eyes glazed over briefly with calculation.
    "Five or six ought to be enough then," decided the 
immense lion-eagle. He dipped his head to Maruss and rose 
to his talons and paws, causing the two Elwens to back up. 
Unfurling his wings, he beat them lazily, as if in no 
great hurry to leave. "I will see you soon, Lord Maruss."
    With no more farewell then that, he let himself fall 
from the ledge. Maruss restrained himself from peering 
down; Dustdancer would think such concern insulting. 
Besides, he knew how to fly.
    Sure enough, a short time later, an amber speck looped 
up in the distance and soared away with the preternatural 
speed that seemed to lurk in the wings of all gryphons. 
Maruss and his bodyguard watched it in silence until it 
had dwindled to invisibility against the rising sun; then 
Maruss lifted an eyebrow at the time Elwen. "Well, what do 
you think now?"
    Tenico's face was stubborn. "I don't regret I came, 
Lord Maruss. He still might have hurt you."
    Maruss sighed soundlessly and turned to walk back into 
Coroncheer. Tenico quickly preceded him, looking about 
alertly for traps, for anyone other than the bowing 
guards.
    "Someday," Maruss murmured to his back, "we're going 
to have a little talk, you and I."
----------------------------------------------------------
    After that, things became such a whirlwind that Maruss 
barely had time to think about talking with Tenico. There 
were numerous problems to be sorted out: how many rations 
to carry, who would stay behind to care for the wounded 
and those too old or young to fight, what the flyers, who 
could get there faster, would do, and on and on.
    "No," Maruss told Aeren over and over again, "I don't 
care if Destria's in the city. You are not going to 
challenge him to mental single combat." It took ten 
repetitions before the Touched dawn Elwen sulkily agreed.
    "Jierran may be a unicorn, but he is also an 
Annihilator," the curalli told the unhappy Elwens in the 
gate-guarding group Jierran had been assigned to. "If 
anything, he might fool the unicorns, or make them more 
hesitant to attack."
    "No, Lady Soshli, you won't be allowed to charge."
    "No, Tenico, you're needed as a silversinger. I'll 
take care of myself in this battle."
    "No, Larelina, the gryphons will be with us, and-" An 
interruption. "I'm sorry, Lare, but Dustdancer has offered 
to ally his people with ours, and I've accepted."
    "No, Geruth, Dustdancer won't be allowed to get near 
you. Don't worry. Of course, I expect you not to get near 
him as well."
    The day seemed an endless procession of negativity, at 
least to Maruss. When he had a moment to himself, he sat 
down in one of the many planning rooms and studied a copy 
of the battle plans spread on the table before him. They 
were more detailed now, showing, for instance, the number 
of soldiers that would guard each gate of the minald. The 
only thing that would make this more complicated, Maruss 
thought tiredly, would be if a messenger of Tirosina 
showed up right now.
    He waited expectantly, but no one, elf or Elwen, Cat 
or wolf, walked in with a raven on arm or shoulder. He 
dropped his head onto his folded arms, resisting the 
temptation to go to sleep. If somebody- especially, horror 
of horrors, Tenico- found him sprawled in here, they would 
assume he was lazy, or worse, poisoned.
    A hand touched his shoulder, interrupting the light, 
trance-like doze he had slipped into. Maruss smiled 
gratefully at his awakener, and then even more broadly 
when he realized it was Myyti. "Hello," he said sleepily, 
lifting his head.
    The underground Elwen put one hand under his chin- 
gently, so her claws wouldn't break the skin- and turned 
him to face her. She whistled softly and clucked her 
tongue in a scolding manner, sounding much like Maana, her 
natural mother and Maruss's foster mother, used to sound. 
"Tut tut, Maruss. Circles under your eyes, sunken cheeks, 
yawning all the time-" She paused delicately to let the 
noise of his latest yawn die away, then poked him in the 
ribs, so unexpectedly he jumped. "And so thin! What have 
you been living on, air?"
    "No," Maruss protested. "I had breakfast this morning. 
Bread and fruit." He tried to push himself away from her a 
bit- not because of pride, but because he had learned the 
Annihilators, some of whom thought the war hopeless, 
needed to see an indomitable leader. 
    "Breakfast?" Myyti sounded horrified. "That's all? 
Maruss, it's nearly midnight."
    "Really?" Maruss gazed about in mild interest, but 
there were no windows to look out of and in any case the 
room was fogging before his burning eyes. "How 
interesting." He yawned again. "I am hungry, now that you 
mention it."
    Myyti smiled helplessly, shaking her head, and offered 
him her arm as he had so often offered her his. "We'd 
better get you down to the kitchens right away, before you 
get too tired to eat."
    "But the battle-plans-" Maruss protested helplessly, 
looking at them. "I'm supposed to be studying-"
    "You could probably recite them backwards in your 
sleep, if you had to," the verde snorted. She pushed him 
to his feet and then toward the door until he agreed to 
walk beside her. She flashed him a cheerful smile. "Relax. 
No one needs you right now. Everyone's asleep save for the 
provisioners, and they'll retire soon."
    Maruss allowed himself to be persuaded, though he did 
draw one of his many keys free and lock the room as he 
left. Whether or not the stranger was in fact a spy, there 
was no sense in taking chances and simply leaving the 
plans out for anyone to read.
    Myyti steered him downwards, guiding his stumbling 
footsteps on the stairs. Abruptly Maruss smelled a 
familiar scent, and Tenico said, half-angrily, "Lord 
Maruss, where have you been?"
    "In a planning room-" Maruss began, but Myyti firmly 
interrupted him.
    "He was in a planning room, but he's going to the 
kitchens now, and then out on the ledge beside the Song 
Door to get a breath of fresh air before he goes to bed."
    "I'll need to accompany you," said Tenico stubbornly. 
Maruss glanced back at Myyti and saw her chin firm and 
lift, her green eyes flashing fire. 
    "I told you where he's going." Myyti spoke with quiet 
determination. "He'll be in good hands." As if to make the 
point, she lifted one of the hands in question. Auralight, 
that radiance generated by all things from the sheer force 
of existence, flashed and flickered off her long digging 
claws. "You can return to your duties or your bed, 
bodyguard." Her manner was that of a queen dismissing a 
servant.
    Tenico looked as if he might argue, but at a sharp 
glance from Myyti lowered his eyes and meekly stepped 
away. The pair marched on, Maruss's beloved looking 
satisfied and the curalli concealing a grin. Nobody, but 
nobody, messed with Myyti.
    "I wish I knew how to get rid of him so easily," he 
told Myyti when they had reached the lowest level and were 
almost at the kitchens.
    "That's different," Myyti replied off-handedly. "You 
do need him when you're doing business- though I noticed 
you had managed to slip away to the planning room," she 
added dryly. "Tenico's problem is that he thinks he's 
needed all the time."
    "You can't blame him for being a little drunk on 
prestige," Maruss protested mildly. "He not only 
volunteered for guard duty and was accepted-" though why 
he volunteered, I'll never know, his mind added "-but he's 
also a silversinger. Quite a rise from being a slave, even 
a freed one. Not many people will be able to do such 
damage to their former masters."
    Myyti looked slightly irritated, as she always did 
when he told her things she already knew. "That I 
recognize and respect. But you should be able to have a 
little time to yourself- and alone with me," she added 
with an endearing combination of slyness and innocence.
    Maruss laughed aloud, feeling himself begin to wake 
up. "Is that why you suggested going to the ledge, love? I 
hardly need fresh air."
    Myyti blinked. "Maruss, you would think that of me?"
    Maruss, amused and not caring who heard him, burst out 
laughing. "Yes, Myyti, I would," he said, when he finally 
managed to get his words around his chuckles.
    Myyti stopped, leaning against the door of the 
kitchens for a moment before she opened it and giving him 
a smile half-wry, half-wistful. "It's good you can be so 
cheerful even when you're tired and hungry, but I'd prefer 
it if you didn't deprive yourself in the first place."
    Maruss shrugged apologetically. "It's nothing I do on 
purpose, Myyti. I suppose the hours simply marched by 
without thought of food, and I have thought of sleeping, 
but someone needed to talk to me. It just happened."
    "If I have any say about it, it won't," said Myyti 
firmly, and pushed open the door.
    The kitchens of Coroncheer were a series of sweeping 
rooms, altogether perhaps a fifth of the size of the 
Chapel Chamber. What characterized the kitchens was not 
the heat of the fires or even the smell of the food- both 
in short supply at this late hour- but the constant soft 
sigh of moving air across Maruss's skin. Since there were 
no windows here and the verde who had hollowed the 
mountain had neglected to dig a chimney through the solid 
stone, the cooks had come up with another method for 
removing smoke from the place. Conduits in the mountains 
established by the wind Elwens were filled with air that 
renewed itself again and again; the machine that provided 
the air was fueled by a stream that had never frozen, even 
in the depths of winter. Thus smoke was blown by the wind 
into small cracks and matching conduits and carried out of 
the room.
    It made the kitchens a much more pleasant place then 
they had been before the creation of the conduits, and one 
could actually see the stoves and tables, Maruss thought 
wryly. Nearly every wall was lined either with a great 
oven, cooking utensils, or niches and shelves where 
buckets of water and kindling were placed. The long 
benches and tables stood in the center; there were enough 
so that about a thousand Annihilators could eat at one 
time.
    There was no one here now, but the packs and packs of 
provisions that stood silently on table and floor alike 
almost made up for them, watching the room like sentries. 
Maruss tried to pick up the nearest pack and nearly 
staggered, then pursed his lips in a silent whistle. The 
first order of business in the morning would be speaking 
to the packers about lightening these. He started to open 
the one he held to see what was in it.
    Myyti's hand closed on his wrist, stopping him. 
"You're off duty now, remember?" she reminded him gently, 
and held his wrist until he returned the pack to its 
place. "Business tomorrow."
    "Technically it is tomorrow," Maruss muttered, but he 
followed Myyti beneath the low cavern arch into the next 
room.
    This part of the kitchens looked even more deserted 
than the previous one, possibly because there were less 
packs. The pair of Elwens were about halfway across the 
room when both of them heard a solitary tinking sound.
    They reacted with the speed of long comrades in 
battle, whirling back to back, Myyti holding her claws 
spread like a handful of knives while Maruss's fingers 
went flashing to Starsheen. The blade woke up with a 
burbling mental grunt of protest that quickly became keen 
interest when he realized he was drawn. ^There's going to 
be a fight? Hurray!^ He flexed in Maruss's grasp like a 
short steel snake, turning from side to side and reaching 
out for Maruss's mind.
    However, the curalli kept his barriers up to prevent 
the joining, for he had caught the intruder's scent then- 
one of spring and apple blossoms and the indescribable 
fragrance of sunrise. He was curious- what would he be 
doing here at this hour?- but not alarmed. "Hello, Aeren," 
he called, sheathing Starsheen and ignoring the knife's 
whine of disappointment.
    There was a startled pause, then the hidden dawn Elwen 
moved toward them, appearing in a gap between tables. 
Maruss saw that Myyti was still tense and wondered why, 
but he forgot his puzzlement when he saw the alalori.
    "Aeren, what have you been doing to yourself?" he 
exclaimed in concern. "You look terrible."
    Aeren was not even able to stand straight on his feet, 
but swayed slightly back and forth, looking around almost 
dazedly. His silver-gold eyes were fogged and disfigured 
by the dark circles under them, highly visible against the 
golden skin. His tunic was ripped and torn in several 
places, clinging to him in shreds, though his leggings 
seemed oddly all right. His blond hair was disheveled, and
though Aeren wasn't vain, Maruss had never seen it look 
less than perfect. The leader of the Touched peered at 
them for a few moments without recognition before his eyes 
cleared. He tried to bow, but the motion almost threw him 
to the floor. "Lord Maruss." He slurred the curalli's 
name, seeming to give it an extra s. "Goo' evening, Lady 
My- Myyti."
    The underground Elwen stared at him with pity 
softening her expression, but made no move to help him. 
Maruss gave her a slight reprimanding glare as he hurried 
forward to lend Aeren his shoulder. "What happened?" he 
asked in concern, staring at the slashes in Aeren's tunic 
and trying to equate them to any knife, sword, or beast 
that he knew.
    "Was walk- walkin' along the upper tunnels," slurred 
Aeren, and for the first time Maruss saw that his mouth 
was swollen as if from numerous punches. "Somebody jumped 
on me- don't know who. Only got this." He lifted his right 
clenched fist. Maruss stretched out his free hand and 
pried his fingers gently open.
    A scrap of green- something lay there. Maruss took it 
between his fingers, rubbed it, and sniffed it, then shook 
his head in frustration. There were the lingering traces 
of a not-quite-failed spell on it, and it was so soft that 
it was impossible to tell if it was cloth or hair. He 
looked back at Aeren. "Go on," he urged gently.
    "St- stumbled down here, followin' you," Aeren said, 
and took a step forward. For the first time, Maruss saw
what had made the tinking sound- a small piece of steel 
caught in the cloth of his boot. He reached for it 
gingerly, for it was jagged, and held it up to the light. 
    It looked like a piece somehow nicked from a blade, he 
thought in growing excitement. That would make the 
attacker easy to identify. Just look for the one with a 
nicked weapon-
    Unless it wasn't someone in Coroncheer.
    That froze his heart. Was that mysterious intruder, 
whom he had almost come to believe a friend, truly the 
patient, long-waiting murderer Tenico had described him 
as?
    Unfortunately, the pieces all fit too well. Maruss and 
Myyti had seen no one behind them, and they knew how adept 
this intruder was at vanishing. The cloth or hair carried 
magic to disguise its scent; perhaps it had become 
imperfect when separated from the main whole. And Aeren 
was an important figure, the trusted leader of the Touched 
contingent. Everything just made too much sense.
    Maruss slipped an arm beneath Aeren's shoulders. "Come
on, we have to get you to your chambers."
    The dawn Elwen flashed him a grateful look, Myyti a 
betrayed one. Maruss looked at her in astonishment and 
spoke to her mentally. ^Myyti, what's the matter? Can't 
you see he needs help?^
    Myyti's stone-like face softened. ^Of course, beloved. 
I'm sorry. But you can't deny that it's spoiled our 
evening together.^ She sighed, her eyes on him as she 
moved to take Aeren's other arm. ^Always business, 
separating you and me,^ she noted sadly. ^Will it ever 
stop?^
    At least, Maruss thought, that explains her earlier 
tension. ^I promise that once Aeren is safe we'll go out 
on the ledge, at least.^
    Myyti stared at him almost accusingly, as if waiting 
for him to back out of the promise, then nodded firmly. 
^You'd better keep this one.^
    Maruss smiled at her. ^How could I forget, with such a 
lovely one at my side?^
    ^Flatterer.^ Myyti looked back at Aeren, breaking off
the link, but she wore a peaceful smile. "Aeren," she 
probed gently. "Did you see anything more of the person 
who attacked you?"
    The dawn Elwen shook his head, seemingly exhausted. 
Myyti nodded and looked back at Maruss. ^Beloved, I'm 
sorry to ask this of you, but keep more to the company of 
your guards from now on.^