He led the way to the Ilsig Bedchamber where, in consideration of all thathadn't happened during the night, he expected to find Jihan, the Stormchildren,Niko, and the bedlam residents. He found, instead, a funereally quiet chamberwith only Seylalha hovering between the cradles.

"The mere's guild?" Kama inquired, reading the same omens the priest did. "Themage's?"

Molin shook his head. His mind reached out to that distant comer where his Nisimagic heritage, the gods, or his own luck sometimes placed reliableinspirations. "With the Beysa," he said slowly, then corrected himself: "Nearthe snakes."

When the Beysib arrived in Sanctuary they had brought with them seventy of themottled brown eggs of their precious beynit serpents. These eggs, packed inunspun silk, had been installed in a specially reconstructed room where ahypocaust kept the stones comfortably warm. The eggs had hatched before thestart of winter and the room itself, filled with the fingerling snakes, hadbecome the favorite haunt of the Beysa and her immediate entourage.

It had also become, because of the skill of the Beysib snake-handlers inpreparing decoctions of any venom or herbal, the meeting place of all the palacehealers. Jihan brewed Niko's vile unguents there and occasionally, when theother residents of the Ilsig Bedchamber objected loudly enough, administeredthem there as well. Molin knew he had guessed correctly when he saw Beysibsnake-handlers milling forlornly in the hypocaust antechamber.

"You took your own time getting down here," Tempus grumbled as the priestentered the room. He might have added more, but he fell silent when Kama easedthrough the doorway as well.

Molin took advantage of the lull to look around. Crit caught his eye firstbecause he, like Tempus, was staring at Kama as if she'd grown a second head.Jihan was here as well, though her smile was warmer than Torchholder had seenbefore. She set down a mortar brimming with dark, spiky leaves and embraced Kamaas a long-lost friend. Her movement allowed him to see the real reason they wereall in the uncomfortably warm room: Nikodemos.

The Stepson lay on his back, trussed like a roasting chicken and, though heseemed to be sleeping quietly enough now, his face was bruised and his handscovered with blood. Molin took a step closer and felt Tempus's hand close aroundhis arm.

"Leave him be," he warned.

"What happened?" Torchholder asked, retreating until Tempus relaxed. "Randalsaid-"

"You guessed right," Crit interrupted with a bitterness that made the priest'sblood run cold. "She made her move through Niko at about the right time."

"It was Haught," Tempus spat out the name. "Niko bolted for the window saying'Haught'. It was a warning."

Critias ran his hand through dark, thinning hair. "But not for us. Haught wasmaking his own moves and Roxane had to stop him."

"That's what Strat says," Jihan added.

"It doesn't matter whether Strat's right or not." Crit had begun pacing like acaged tiger. "It doesn't matter whether Haught's Ischade's catspaw or Roxane's.It doesn't matter if Jihan-"

"I didn't."

"-Told Niko about the double-shuffle with the globes. All that matters is thatthe witch-bitch had Niko. Again."

"What happened?" Molin repeated, though by this point he was getting a prettygood idea and was more interested in the shifting alliances of the threesome.

"When Jihan tried to keep him from jumping out the window he went berserk. Ittook four guards to hold him until she could get something down his gullet tokeep him quiet," Critias explained calmly.

Molin moved closer to Niko, this time without Tempus's interference. The youngman had taken a beating, but the priest wasn't looking for bruises.

"What about the mongoose, Chiringee?" he asked, examining the bloody tears onNiko's hands and wrists. "Randal said it was attuned to Roxane."

Jinan looked at Tempus, Tempus looked at the wall, and Crit's voice was amonotone: "It attacked him-and he killed it. Ripped it apart and started to eatit-didn't he?"

The Froth Daughter reached back to grasp Tempus by the wrist. "He was berserk,"she said softly. "He didn't know what he was doing. It doesn't mean anything."Glittering crystals of ice and water formed in her eyes.

Critias gave them a malignant stare. When he reached the door he gave Kama thesame stare, for reasons Molin could not begin to understand, then he shoved heraside. Molin felt the muscles tighten along his sword arm. It would be theheight of folly-Kama fought her own battles and Critias was as cold a killer asmoved through the shadows-but the Stepson would answer for that gesture.

"Roxane has taken Stealth?" Kama asked the frozen room. None of the rumorscirculating in the Maze had presumed so much.

Tempus pulled his arm away from Jihan. "Not yet," he muttered as he followedCrit from the room.

Molin and Kama turned to Jihan who, with a slight nod of her head, confirmedtheir worst suspicion. Kama sank back against the wall, shaking her head fromside to side. The Froth Daughter, for her part, reclaimed her mortar and went tokneel beside the slate-haired Stepson.

"He was drunk," the dark-haired mercenary said to herself. "Too much wine. Toomuch krrf. Too much everything." She closed her eyes, purging herself of griefand Niko with long, ragged breaths.

"It's not over yet," Molin told her, daring to take her arm and realizing, withsome surprise, that he looked straight ahead, not down, into her eyes. "Lastnight I was with Stormbringer."

Her eyes widened but she didn't resist as he guided her from the hypocaust andpast anxious snake-handlers.

"I have to talk to Tempus-convince him to do something he doesn't want to do.But it's far from over, Kama."

She nodded and slipped from his grasp. "I'll want to see you again," she said,holding his hand lightly as she stepped away.

"I have a wife. Sabellia's priestess and a noblewoman in her own right. She'sstaying out at Land's End with my brother, Lowan Vigeles, and she'll makewhatever trouble she can." Molin swallowed hard, knowing that Rosanda had hergood qualities as well but that they no longer meant anything to him. "I am thepriest of a dead god and the nephew of a dead emperor. I walk a dangerous pathin full view of my enemies-and I would not walk any other."

Kama laughed, a sensuous laugh that could get a man in trouble. "If I cannotwalk through your doorway wearing gowns and jewels then you'll find me as I amoutside your windows or already in your bedchamber." Then, with another laugh,she was gone-heading back to Jihan and Niko.

Molin returned to his quarters, ordering Hoxa to prepare a cauldron of hot waterand to find, somewhere, dry robes and boots. The young man procured thebathwater and the boots, but when he came from the wardrobe with a fresh robe hebrought an unwelcome surprise as well: a scarf of linen the length of a man'soutstretched arms and the color of Storm-bringer's horizons.

"Have the day for yourself, Hoxa," Molin had mumbled as he drew the cloththrough his fingers. "I need time alone."

He'd taken that time, sitting in a room that had been an arcane attic. Randal'sNisi globe remained not on his worktable; Lalo's triple portrait was not nailedto the wall behind him; Ischade's abandoned raven, in all its ill-temperedglory, was truly flapping from one perch to another, and now Stormbrin-ger'sgift for Tempus had made its appearance as well. Unlike the other artifacts,the strip of cloth with its ordinary, girlish embroidery seemed innocentenough-until he considered that the sight of it was supposed to convinceTempus to risk sleep and a visit to the realm of Askelon.