Meanwhile, Kifflewit had materialized in a new posi shy;tion near the bottom of the stairs. Blood smeared his child shy;like face, but he was grinning happily and his hoopak was poised for mayhem. Any guards who thought to storm the upper walkway and grab Mynx would have to battle their way through him first. Not to worry-their foes appeared sorely confused by prey that rose through the air like a soap bubble.

Then a goblin broke the trance, roaring as he charged, mace whirling. The goblin managed to snag the rope, and dumped Tarscenian to the ground. In a moment, Tarscen-ian was up and moving, but his attackers were close behind.

Three goblins stood between him and the way to the treetop walkways. Kifflewit, behind them, rained hoopak blows upon their heads and shoulders, but the blows glanced like raindrops off the foul creatures' thick leather armor.

Tarscenian wheeled.

A dozen temple guards, flanking Dahos, stood before him. "And so do heretics come to their end," the high priest said with a smile.

"Take me to Hederick, High Priest," Tarscenian demanded.

"Of course," Dahos said. "I would not deprive His Wor shy;ship of the joy of dispatching you himself. He's wanted your head for years, Tarscenian."

"You know something of me, then?" Tarscenian asked, slipping his sword back into his scabbard. In the same motion, he surreptitiously retrieved a pinch of herbs from one pouch and, beneath the cover of his cloak, began to

weave his fingers in a discreet spell. His eyes swept the scene and noted a large puddle of stagnant water near Dahos.

"Of course, Tarscenian," Dahos said with mock polite shy;ness. "You were the priest who brought Hederick into the Seekers, years ago. I know, too, that you betrayed him and the New Gods by deserting the Seekers for the lust of a woman."

"Ah," Tarscenian said. "And do you know who that woman was?"

"Some whore, long dead now, I suppose," the Plains shy;man said offhandedly.

"It was Hederick's sister, Ancilla, the mage who accom shy;panied me in the courtyard today."

Dahos appeared startled. "Hederick, brother of a mage?" he murmured. Then the high priest recovered his composure. "Lies! Had I not promised Hederick other shy;wise, I'd slay you myself this instant for your blasphemy."

"Ask Hederick about her, High Priest. Unless you fear the response."

"I would not bother…"

"Fait recoblock!" Tarscenian shouted. "Jerientom benjin-charl"

Before the guards and Dahos could catch on, Tarscenian leaped high into the air. He bent in midair and dove straight into the pool of stagnant water at Dahos's feet.

And disappeared.

An instant later, high above Dahos and the rest, Tarscen shy;ian leaned over the railing and watched the confusion below. Though too exhausted to speak, he gave Mynx a wink. Kifflewit Burrthistle raced up the steps, barely winded.

"That was great, Tarscenian!" the kender burbled.

"How did you do that? Dive into that puddle, I mean. And you're not even wet! Sweating a lot, of course-but not wet. Could you teach me? Or is it more magic? Not that I couldn't learn a simple little puddle spell!"

"Not real magic. It's pure illusion," Tarscenian cor shy;rected. "I never disappeared because I wasn't trapped by Dahos in the first place. I never left this staircase." "But I saw you!"

"Be still, little one, lest you bring all the guards upon us," Tarscenian cautioned. "They're not on to us yet. From all appearances, they're going to spend quite a lot of time staring into that puddle." "What a trick! Can you …"

"Ahem." Tarscenian narrowed stern gray eyes at Kiffle-wit. "The ring, little friend." "Mmm?"

"Dahos's death's-head ring. The one you placed in your red pouch, right there on your belt, after you 'borrowed' it from the high priest."

The kender's face fell. "Oh. That." He rallied. "What a good thing I picked it up! He might have lost it. I might have…"

"The ring, Kifflewit."

The kender produced the jewelry reluctantly, and Tarscenian handed it gravely to Mynx. "Present that to your chief as a token of my sincerity. Now it's time for us to talk, Mynx. I want you to take me to meet your fellow thieves."

Her dark eyebrows rose. "How did you know I… ?" He laughed, shortly. "Oh," he said, winking at the kender, "I've known a few thieves in my time."

"I've known some, too!" chimed in Kifflewit, not want shy;ing to be left out.

With somber brown eyes, Mynx regarded the balding, gray-bearded stranger. Then she nodded, her long, lone earring tangling in her unkempt brown hair. She gestured for him to follow her.

She didn't know what Gaveley, the head of the thieves' ring, had in mind for Tarscenian. The tall stranger seemed a decent enough sort, but appearances were nothing to count on these days. Her own role in the scheme was simple: She was to carry out Gaveley's orders, and Gave shy;ley would pay her accordingly. It had gone off almost too easily, she mused.

What a piece of luck, she thought, that the selfsame Tarscenian who was seeking a ring of thieves was, him shy;self, being sought by just such a group.

Chapter 12

For some time, the three traveled southwest on the wooden walk-ways, making as little noise as possible as they passed dark dwelling after dark dwelling. The tumult from the refugee part of town receded behind them. They passed the Inn of the Last Home, a tavern that-before Heder-ick's installation-would have rung with song and drink even this late at night, but now the Inn was still.

Even the kender managed to stay mostly silent. Single file, they wound down a circular vallenwood stairway to reach the ground, and there they paused. The forest stood thick around them.

"We meet just outside Solace," Mynx explained.

"Odd place for a thieves' ring," Tarscenian commented.

She snorted. "Everything's odd, now that Hederick's in charge. Gaveley thought we'd be safer out here. The temple is north of Solace. This place is as far southwest as you can be and still find quick access into the city. Gaveley wanted to keep out of Hederick's way, I guess. My chief is not one to offer explanations, and it's a wise thief that doesn't look for them."

"This Gaveley, he's the leader?"

Mynx nodded. Then she stopped and addressed Kiffle-wit. "You needn't attend us any longer, kender. Go back to your family, wherever they are."

"But…"

Mynx cut him short. "Gaveley's ring of thieves has no use for another kender. Go away."

Another kender? Tarscenian thought. Mynx's kender friend had been a member of the ring?

Kifflewit protested loudly. "But we're a team! Didn't you notice how we were working together back there? Could Tarscenian have pulled it off without me? Could he?"

"It won't seem so wonderful when Hederick's guards find you," Mynx snapped.

"Mynx had a kender friend who died because of the High Theocrat," Tarscenian told the kender.

Mynx swung on him angrily. "He was killed, Tarscenian. Executed by one of Hederick's bowmen. I was an arm's length away when it happened."

"All the same, my dear, I doubt you'll be able to lose a kender who doesn't want to be lost," Tarscenian said.

"Ha. You just wait."

A footstep sounded before them in the trees, and the three darted into the shadows. This time, Tarscenian's was the hand firmly planted over Kifflewit's mouth. There were more footsteps, then muted voices, and finally a pair of figures hove into view. Mynx relaxed. "Gaveley," she mouthed soundlessly to Tarscenian.

A half-elf of medium height, his arm slung casually across the shoulder of an equally well-dressed human, strolled past without any sign that he'd noticed them-if indeed he had. He was speaking so softly to his compan shy;ion that the three in the shadows couldn't make out a word.