Soterius wore a simple but elegant ensemble of hunter green, with straight, almost military lines that complemented his bearing. Harrtuck looked chagrined but resigned to his dark brown outfit, with a velvet vest and a finely spun shirt that did not strain at his broad, barrel chest. Carroway, as usual, was resplendent in a fashionable mix of silks, with deep plum, bright green, and gold accents. Seated at the front of the greatroom with the other musicians, Carroway was reveling in his return to giving court performances.

Mingling among the crowd, a mix of mortals and vayash mom, Mikhail wore a steel-gray doublet of opulent brocade. Mikhail moved through the crowd comfortably, and Tris wondered how many lifetimes it might take to feel so at ease. Across the room, Tris spotted Gabriel wearing an exquisitely cut dark blue doublet, his flaxen-colored hair loose around his shoulders, every inch an aristocrat.

Tris nudged Kiara as Carina and Vahanian entered, with the healer lightly taking Vahanian's arm. Carina's gown was of emerald silk, with a high waist and a slim fit that accentuated her petite frame and set off her dark hair. At her throat, a necklace of green turquoise and onyx glittered, and Tris wondered from where Berry had procured such a beautiful complement to Carina's dress.

Beside Carina, Vahanian seemed in exceptionally good spirits, dressed head to toe in black as was his preference when ceremony demanded that he dress for court. The outfit set off Vahanian's dark brown hair and brown eyes. He wore no other adornment than his sword belt with its expertly-forged and well-used blade.

"Still taking bets?" Tris whispered.

Kiara chuckled. "Now that Berry has us taken care of, I'm sure she'll double her efforts to match them up."

"They might not need her help," Tris observed, grinning as the others joined them. "Glad you could make it," Tris greeted Vahanian, who seemed quite pleased to have Carina as his companion for the evening.

"Nice to know the witch biddies let you have the night off," Vahanian quipped. "I understand congratulations are in order." In the busy greatroom, the press of guests jostled them as a new group of musicians took the stage.

Kiara's smile was wistful as she took Tris's arm. "There are a few technicalities to take care of," she murmured, "but thank you."

"Good evening to you all," a familiar voice greeted, and they turned to see Gabriel behind them, though there was no noise at the vayash moru's approach. The flaxen-haired vayash morn bowed to Kiara and Carina, then greeted Vahanian and Tris with a nod.

He turned to Tris. "Are you ready for our appointment with the Blood Council?"

Vahanian looked askance at Gabriel, then at Tris. "Call me superstitious, but coming from him, that doesn't sound good."

Gabriel regarded Vahanian with faint amusement. "You're welcome to join us," Gabriel said smoothly. "As Lord of Dark Haven, it would be appropriate. At some point, you must also meet the Council."

"Why me?"

"Because Dark Haven is the traditional sanctuary for the sons and daughters of darkness," Gabriel's faint smile showed his disquietingly long eye teeth. "And you are the Lord of Dark Haven."

"That was something Staden didn't exactly make clear when he gave me the title," Vahanian replied. Carina giggled.

"Nonetheless, the matter does, in a way, concern you directly. The members of the Blood Council are the ruling noble houses of Dark Haven."

"Just how, exactly, can you have a hereditary nobility among vayash moru?" Vahanian asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It would be more accurate, perhaps, to say there is an aristocracy of age and wealth, more by the dark gift than by mortal birth," Gabriel replied. "Many have served on the Council for well over two hundred years."

"So you're planning to walk Tris into a room full of vayash moru, and you want me along for what—an appetizer?"

"When the Obsidian King fell, the orb that held his soul on the edge of the abyss, Soulcatcher, was given to the sons of Dark Haven to protect. It was secured beneath Dark Haven, where a great river of power runs. When Arontala wrested the orb from its resting place, the last Lord of Dark Haven died, and the great house itself was damaged. The river of power has been tainted, and not even the Sisterhood has been able to purify its flow. That history makes the present problem Dark Haven's concern. Tonight, we meet with the Council to present Tris as Summoner and the rightful king of Margolan."

"Why does this Blood Council care?" Vahanian asked warily.

"Because Arontala is vayash moru," Gabriel replied. "There are old and binding rules among my people that govern how we may act—toward mortals and toward our brethren of the dark gift. This is necessary to keep the truce. It's forbidden for vayash moru to side with mortals to destroy another vayash moru. I believe I can receive the Council's permission to make an exception.

"Before this is over," Gabriel continued, "we'll likely need the assistance—or at least the forbearance—of those vayash moru who remain in Margolan. Such things are better done through proper channels."

"As much as this doesn't sound like my kind of party," Vahanian said grudgingly, "maybe I'd better come along to watch Spook's back."

"As you wish," Gabriel said with a low bow. "I'll return for you at the twelfth bell. Until then, I'll take my leave. There are preparations to be made."

The vayash moru seemed to vanish into thin air. "I hate it when he does that," Vahanian muttered.

"Thanks for the support," Tris said. "I have to admit, the whole idea makes me nervous."

"You hold court for ghosts all day and a couple of vayash moru make you nervous?" Vahanian joked. "Aren't you officially Lord of the Dead and Undead?"

"In the case of the vayash moru," said Tris, "I have the distinct impression that the title is ceremonial."

Partygoers jostled as the guests, crowded shoulder to shoulder, moved for a better view of the musicians, who struck up a lively tune. Vahanian turned toward the music. In that instant, he saw torchlight glint off steel behind Tris.

"Get down!" Vahanian shouted, pushing hard against Tris as the dagger fell.

The dagger struck just below his shoulder as he shoved Tris out of the way. He staggered, reaching for his sword. Carina screamed. Jae gave a shriek, diving toward the assassin. A streak of blue mage fire burned past Vahanian, striking the attacker. Vahanian heard the whirr of a blade flying through the air. The attacker fell to the ground, a small blade lodged between his shoulders. Vahanian glanced up, expecting one of the guardsman, and instead saw Berry, standing on her chair, a look of surprise and self-congratulation on her face.

"You're hit," Carina said, guiding Vahanian to the floor as the room began to spin. Guardsmen shoved their way through the screaming crowd, forming a circle around Vahanian and Carina. The guards tried to whisk Tris and Kiara out of the room, but Tris jerked away and Kiara would not be moved. Vahanian could hear Carroway shouting above the screams of the crowd, attempting to shift the partygoers away from the incident.

"Coming through!" he heard Soterius shout as he and Harrtuck barreled their way through the guardsmen's line.

"How bad?" Harrtuck asked, taking in Vahanian's condition with a practiced eye.

A servant handed Carina a fistful of rags. She applied pressure through Vahanian's bloodsoaked shirt and felt around the wound. "Not as bad as it could be," she appraised, looking worriedly at Vahanian. "The knife hit a rib, or it might have had you in the heart." Blood stained her green gown and covered her hands. "We've got to get it out."

Vahanian felt the room swim around him. He turned to one side, and retched.