The image flickered and changed. Now it showed a woman with red-brown hair. Her heavy cloak had shifted just enough to reveal a silvery pin on her jacket, wrought in the shape of a crescent moon encircling a harp.

Rage flared hotly in Ravendas's cheeks. She turned her sharp gaze to Snake.

"I thought you said all the Harpers in the city had been dealt with," she snapped furiously.

No emotion registered on Snake's thin face. "Apparently this one escaped, my lord."

She clenched her fine hands into fists. "Apparently," she said acidly. She was about to say more to berate her lord steward for his failure when the image wavered and changed again. Ravendas froze. The image showed a man with dark hair, pale green eyes, and angular, wolfish features. It was a face Ravendas would never mistake. She should have known she would not be rid of that one so easily.

"My lord steward," she said, her voice calm but deadly. "Find the captain who reported to me that Caledan Caldorien had been driven from the city."

Snake nodded deferentially. "Shall I bring him to you, my lord?"

"No. Just his heart will do."

"And what of the old thief, my lord?"

Ravendas tapped her chin thoughtfully with a slender finger. "I shall think of something," she said.

A low, wordless sound of fear escaped Tembris's lips.

Dawn was still only a silvery glimmer on the horizon as Mari, Caledan, and Tyveris rode from the courtyard of the Dreaming Dragon. They kept the hoods of their traveling cloaks up, concealing their faces. Iriaebor's streets were empty at this hour, but all the same they took care not to be seen.

"You're sure you don't want me to come along?" Ferret had asked as they made their farewells at the inn.

"Thanks, Ferret, but not this trip," Caledan had replied. "We thought we'd try asking the monks to see the book first."

The thief had shrugged his thin shoulders. "Suit yourself," he'd said in a slightly wounded voice, fidgeting with a sharp-edged dagger. "It just seems like a waste of time to me, that's all. Asking is so… so indirect."

Tendrils of mist crept from the ground as they made their way down the Tor into the New City. When they rode into the wide plaza of the free market, Caledan laid a hand on Man's arm.

"Look above that archway," he whispered softly, "but don't be obvious about it."

She did as he instructed, and her breath caught in her throat. A spear had been wedged atop a stone wall bordering the plaza. Thrust upon the tip of the bloodied spear was a human head. It was a man with empty, wrinkled sockets for eyes.

Quickly Mari averted her gaze from the awful spectacle. 'Tembris," she whispered. "But why…?"

"It's a warning," Caledan growled softly. "Ravendas must know now that we're still in the city. But obviously she doesn't know where. Otherwise we'd both be up there with him."

A sick feeling settled in Mart's stomach. Serving Ravendas had first cost Tembris his eyes. In the end it had cost him his life. There was nothing to do now but ride onward.

The three companions made their way out Iriaebor's west gate, then left the main road shortly after midmorning, cutting overland to the northeast toward the distant, gray-green peaks of the Sunset Mountains. The mist had burned off the rolling plains, and the day had grown fine and warm. Mari pulled a felt-covered bundle from a saddlebag and carefully unwrapped it, revealing a very old-looking baliset. It was a beautiful instrument, built of ash inlaid with darker maple and reddish cherry. She strummed the four strings and smiled at the pure sound. The baliset's voice was as true as the day Master Andros had given it to her.

She had not played in several weeks, but her fingers plucked the strings with practiced ease, and she began a simple song. Tyveris, riding close by, smiled at the music. After a while, Mari added her rich, burnished voice to that of the instrument, singing one of the first songs Master Andros had taught her, a rollicking air about a sparrow in flight, and a man returning home to his true love.

"I spy her far above me, Against the wide blue sky. She's whirling swift and graceful, A sparrow soaring high. But my love is no less lovely. Her eyes are just as bright And while she may wear no jesses, She'll be my bonny bird this night. Aye, fly my love, and sing your song Like a sparrow on the wing. Don't be shy, for I won't be long, And I'll bring your wedding ring!"

When she finished, Tyveris applauded enthusiastically. 'Truly, the gods have blessed you with the gift of music, Mari," the big loremaster said, smiling broadly at her. "Why, Caledan himself couldn't play a better tune than that, could you Cal-" Tyveris stopped short, his dark eyes going wide as he realized what he was saying. Mari bit her lip and cast a glance at Caldorien, who rode on in silence, gazing at the far-off mountains.

Mari played a few more songs as they rode, but soon she packed the baliset away. She found she had little heart for it, at least not that day.

It was verging on midday when the attack came.

They had just crested a low, rocky ridge. Below them at the foot of the ridge rushed a small river, muddy and swollen with the runoff of melting snow from the nearby mountains. The ridge was crowned with a jumble of massive granite boulders. As Caledan rode by, something dark dropped down from above them, knocking him from Mista's back.

He fell hard to the ground, the assailant on top of him. Caledan tried to struggle, but he was tangled in the assassin's heavy black robes. He didn't even have the chance to shout out to the others. Smooth gloved hands closed swiftly about his neck. In moments he was gasping for air, white hot sparks buzzing before his eyes. He tried to pry the assassin's hands off his throat, but his fingers might as well have been scrabbling against stone. The pain was terrible. Darkness began to close around him.

Suddenly a cry of rage shattered the air.

The assassin's hands were ripped from Caledan's neck. He watched in dulled amazement as Tyveris picked up the attacker bodily. The Tabaxi lifted the assassin above his head and hurled him through the air. Dark robes fluttered like strange wings. The assassin struck a boulder with a sickening thud, rolled to the ground, and then lay still.

"Caledan, are you all right?"

It was Mari, helping him to his feet, her face white with fear.

He nodded weakly. "I think so," he said. He swore to himself. After seeing Tembris in the free market they should have expected an ambush. Most likely the assassin had followed them out of the city. But why had Ravendas sent only one?

"Is he dead?" Caledan asked, climbing back onto Mista. The others remounted as well.

"I think so, Cale-" Tyveris halted. All three watched, stunned, as twenty paces away the black-robed assassin stirred and then slowly rose. Face lost in the deep shadows of the hood's cowl, the figure took a step toward Caledan. Then another, and another, each one faster than the last.

A hiss like a viper cut the air. An arrow abruptly appeared in the mysterious assassin's chest, stopping the figure dead in its tracks. 'That should finish the job," Mari said grimly, lowering her short bow.

But instead of falling, the assassin slowly reached down with a black-gloved hand, gripped the shaft of the arrow, and pulled it out, casting it aside as if it were a piece of straw.