"We are all tired, and it is late," Wynn said, putting Tomato up on her shoulder. "We should sleep and talk tomorrow."

Magiere was the only one who nodded agreement and began piling dishes back onto the wooden serving tray.

Before Wynn headed for the stairs to retrieve Potato, she stepped to the front window and scratched Clover Roll's back. He purred in answer but remained vigilant. Wynn looked out to the empty street as cold night air struck her face.

Hedi gave up on sleep and climbed out of bed. It was late, perhaps well past midnight, but the bed's heavy coverings felt stifling. She decided to walk the halls, if nothing else. No matter that she could leave at any time, this room was still her cell and the keep no more than a prison. If she tired herself enough, she might return later and sleep. She pulled her cloak over her cotton shift and fastened the front.

The corridor was as cold and stale as her room, but she breathed in relief nonetheless. The passage was deserted, as expected, and she headed toward the stairs down to the main level. Perhaps there was still some wine about-or ale, if she were desperate-to help calm her into slumber

Hedi stepped off the stairs into the main entryway and turned toward the communal meal hall. She was halfway to its arched entrance when she heard low voices behind her. Someone was talking in the counsel hall on the other side of the wide entryway. She paused, remaining still to listen more carefully.

"You're certain?"

Hedi recognized the low voice as Darmouth's growl. She backed toward the stairs, staying clear of sight, and then crept toward the council hall's entrance with soft steps.

"Yes, my lord," Faris answered from within. "The traitor you described and the one who attacked our men at the Stravinan border. One and the same. His companions called him 'Leesil'. He is with that woman you hired. They stay at Byrd's inn, and Byrd took part in their discussion. The half-blood and his companions spoke of getting back into the keep."

A long silence followed. When Darmouth answered, his voice grated with strangled rage.

"Take them all-now! Use as many men as you need. I want his corpse on the keep wall by dawn!"

"No, my lord," Faris warned. "If he's half of what you claim, soldiers might not be able to capture him. We could catch his woman and the others, but he would slip away in such an insecure area. And taking this hunter by force in public is no better. Word has already spread among the nobles from Geyren that you personally hired her to protect them. How will it appear if you arrest her only a day later?"

"I don't give a damn what it looks like," Darmouth snapped.

"Wait until tomorrow," Faris advised. "Send her word that you require another audience. The death of Marianne a' Royce is reason enough. Once she is within these walls, we can hold her quietly. When she fails to return to the inn, the half-blood will come for her."

"Why, when he already abandoned his own parents?"

"He will, my lord. I saw him look at her. He will come… and we will deal with Byrd later."

Hedi stood frozen in place.

Booted footsteps inside the council hall approached the archway, Darmouth or Paris would step out in a moment. Hedi hurried up the stairs, keeping her steps light. Upon reaching the third floor, she walked more calmly.

There was little relief in returning to her cell of a room. How could she warn Byrd?

Wynn dressed as Tomato and Potato wrestled on the rumpled bedcovers. The door was ajar, and Chap was gone. She gathered up the kittens and headed downstairs.

The common room was empty except for Clover Roll, curled on a table near the window. A strange rattling came from the kitchen, so Wynn set the kittens down and pushed aside the doorway curtain.

Magiere and Leesil rummaged about, gathering sausages and hard biscuits and tea leaves. Their hair was in loose disarray, and Magiere's muslin shirt hung out of her breeches. Chap whined as he paced and wove between them, getting in the way more than anything else. A late night and morning had made them all miss breakfast, but Chap's exaggerated complaints were far too dramatic.

"Did you see Byrd when you came down?" Magiere asked.

"No," Wynn replied. "Have you been up long?"

"Not long," Leesil said, and placed a kettle on an iron hook arm above the hearth's embers.

Physically he looked improved. His eyes were no longer bloodshot but still held a hint of the haunted withdrawal that Wynn had observed since the night of Faris's visit. Something in the Mondyalitko's words had upset Leesil, even horrified him, but Wynn hesitated to ask.

And it unnerved her that Byrd was suddenly missing.

Leesil should pay more heed to her concerns about that man's involvement with the anmaglahk. He did not seem to understand what would happen to the common people if Darmouth were assassinated.

"Do you suppose Byrd might…?" Wynn began, then thought better of it. Byrd would hardly be meeting with the elves in broad daylight. "So what do we do for today?"

Leesil glanced her way and then returned to staring at the kettle not yet boiling.

Wynn immediately regretted asking. He wanted a course of action to follow but objected to all of their suggestions. And she feared her sympathy would only make him feel worse. Magiere dropped a few sausages into the iron pan settled among the hearth's coals, and they began to sizzle. The smell made Wynn slightly nauseous.

"You had the only option last night," Magiere said. "Take the vampire's head to Darmouth for bounty."

Leesil's face clouded. Any denial he was about to spit out was lost as Byrd swatted the doorway curtain aside and stepped in.

"You won't need it," he said. "Darmouth wants to see you-now. He wants a report about last night. The dead woman was the mistress of Lord Geyren, a younger noble growing in favor."

"Why?" Leesil asked, and his tone was cold. "Geyren's men were there, as well as two city soldiers. There's nothing Magiere can add that they haven't already reported."

Byrd shook his head. "He wants to hear about the hunt itself. That's all I know."

"Very well," Magiere said. "Back in Bela, even Councilman Lanjov wanted word on our progress. And he couldn't stand being in the same room with us."

"That's not all he's after, I'll wager," Leesil said, and closed his eyes. "You don't know who you're dealing with."

Wynn had no wish to cause Leesil distress, but it was he who did not understand. She had no intention of leaving Venjetz until they knew what Byrd was planning.

"There are two choices," she said. "Continue the search, which means getting back into the keep, or leave for the mountains to find a way to the elven lands."

Wynn expected Leesil to lose his temper again over her so bluntly stating the obvious. It seemed the best way to force him to choose, instead of resisting every suggestion.

Leesil slumped as he covered his face with one hand.

Wynn almost choked for what she had just done and looked to Magiere with silent regret for hurting Leesil further. Wynn expected little more than Magiere's fury, and this time felt she deserved it.

Magiere simply frowned and nodded her understanding.

Chap licked Leesil's hanging hand and barked once, confirming Wynn's words. Leesil slid his palm over the dog's head.

"You want to go back in?" he asked.

Chap again barked once.

Magiere pulled Leesil's other hand from his face and gripped it tightly. "Can you give us any plan, any ruse to try? Once we're inside, are there people to speak with, bribe"-she shrugged-"threaten?'

"No," Leesil said, but he appeared to be thinking. "Servants and guards won't know anything and couldn't be bribed anyway. Darmouth holds something over everyone he keeps close, like Faris or Omasta. Nothing you'd offer could outweigh that."