"Don't worry, Fineghal. I'll be careful." Aeron gave the wizard a reassuring smile. He hopped the fence that surrounded Kestrel's homestead and gave the place a cursory search. At first he thought that nothing had changed from his last visit; the barn was still empty, and there were no chickens or goats in the farmyard. But by the house, a deerskin was strung on a frame, scraped and drying, and the small smoking shed was acrid with recent use.

With some trepidation, Aeron entered the house but found it empty. No one was home at the moment. Could Kestrel and Eriale have returned? Many of their small belongings were missing, but others remained and showed signs of use. He thought it over and decided to question the neighbors. Old Toric, down the lane, had always been a friend and had little love for Lord Raedel.

Aeron turned west and trotted across the open fields to the farmer's house. Toric's fields seemed in good shape; it had been a good summer for the crops so far, with sunshine and rain in the right proportions. He glanced around furtively, but no one was near, so he rapped on the farmer's door. "Toric? Shiela? Anybody home?"

Shiela Goldsheaf, wife to old Toric Goldsheaf, opened the door and peered out. She was a stout apron-clad woman of middle years, blessed with the ability to talk incessantly about even the most trivial matters. "Aeron? I never thought to see you again! Where in Faerun have you been?"

"Hello, Shiela. I hoped you could tell me where Kestrel and Eriale have gone." Aeron glanced up and down the lane. "May I come inside? I'd rather not be seen here."

"Of course, of course! Come in, quickly. Why, it's been a year that you've been gone now! So much has happened. The old lord, he's fallen ill, and young Phoros is pretty much in charge at the keep. Kestrel-well, Kestrel is in the castle's dungeon. But Eriale's-"

"Aeron! You're back!" Eriale rushed up and caught Aeron in a strong embrace. "Where have you been? What have you been doing?"

"I was going to say, Eriale was released a few days ago, and she's staying here with us while she cleans up Kestrel's cabin," Shiela continued. "And I was going to add that she was here right now, but I see that you've found that out for yourself." The matron ushered both Aeron and Eriale into the cluttered interior of her home, pulling up a couple of stools by the hearth.

Aeron looked from Shiela to Eriale. It was good to see human faces again. Eriale ... he hadn't realized how much he had missed her. Kestrel might have been a father to him, but Eriale was both his sister and his best friend. He missed her direct honesty, her wit and dry humor, even the shape of her face. "I can't stay, Shiela. Raedel's men still have a warrant for me. You're at risk as long as I stay here."

"Oh, hush!" Shiela snapped. "Answer Eriale, young man. She's been beside herself with worry."

Aeron drew in a deep breath and replied, "I'm still staying with the friend I met last year, Eriale. I'm sure you remember him. I've learned a lot in a year. I can read and write in both common and Elvish, and my . . . other studies are going well. But there's so much more for me to learn. Even if I could come home, I think I'd stay where I am." He returned his attention to Eriale. "Now tell me what's happened in Maerchlin."

Eriale glanced up at Shiela. Her face lost some of the enthusiasm she'd shown at seeing Aeron again. "Father's been imprisoned in Raedel Keep for almost three months now," she said quietly. "I was thrown in the dungeon, too, but they let me go on Midsummer."

"Why did Raedel arrest you?"

"Phoros was very angry with Father and I for helping you to escape Maerchlin, but the old lord wouldn't allow him to arrest us. After all, we didn't know you were wanted when you left. But over the winter, old Lord Raedel fell ill."

"They say he hasn't risen from his bed in two months or more," Shiela added.

"So Phoros is the lord of Maerchlin now?" Aeron asked.

Eriale nodded. "Not in name, but he's the heir, and he's serving as regent until his father gets better."

"If he ever does," Shiela observed.

"The very day his father agreed to relinquish his powers to Phoros, he drafted a warrant for Kestrel's arrest, and mine as well. Aiding a felon, obstructing the law, seditious speech, conspiracy to rebellion ... I didn't know he could think of so many charges!" Eriale paled and her voice grew small. "So Father and I were thrown into the dungeons."

Aeron snorted. "Raedel's nothing but a bloodthirsty brigand! He can't use his father's laws to pursue his own vendetta against me."

Shiela frowned. "King Gereax in Oslin came down on his side thirteen years ago, Aeron. The castle's guardsmen are the only law in Maerchlin. You should know that by now."

The young mage spat a curse. "I'm sorry, Eriale. Did they . . . were they rough with you?"

She shook her head. "Some of the guards would say things to me, but no one ever touched me."

"Why did they let you go?"

Eriale shook her head. "I don't know."

Aeron thought about the news. What could he do to help Kestrel? Could he spirit the forester out of the dungeons with magic? If he did, Kestrel would be no better off than Aeron was. As an escaped prisoner, he'd have to flee Maerchlin, too. What if he turned himself in? Phoros would have no reason to hold Kestrel-well, nothing save spite, he reminded himself-but Aeron's own life would almost certainly be forfeit. Aeron even considered the possibility of circumventing both Raedel and Gereax to appeal directly to Gormantor, the Overking in Akanax, but he couldn't begin to imagine how he might do that.

Outside, he heard the clattering approach of a number of horsemen. Animals nickered and snorted, stamping the hard earth of the farmyard. Aeron frowned, puzzled. Why would so many riders be coming to see Toric at one time? Unless . . . soldiers. The lord's men! He leapt to his feet, seeking escape. "Phoros Raedel didn't let you out of prison to show his generosity. He let you out to see if you would lead him to me!"

Eriale groaned. "It makes sense. And I did exactly what Raedel wanted me to. Oh, Aeron!"

"Surround the house! The boy's inside!" Through the oilskin windows, Aeron could see the dark shapes of guardsmen racing for the door, six or seven at least. He thought desperately. There was no place to hide, and Raedel's men already covered both doors.

"Eriale, Shiela, cooperate. Tell them anything they want to know," he hissed. Then, raising his hand and dusting himself with a pinch of pure white sand, he brought the mystic symbol of the charm of invisibility to his mind. The Weave streamed through him, electrifying his senses. With a word, the world around him seemed to become gray and mist-wreathed, as if he viewed it through a dark glass.

"Aeron! Where did you go?" Eriale cried. At that instant, mailed swordsmen kicked in both the front and back doors of Shiela's cottage, storming into the room with their blades ready. More streamed in behind them, ransacking the place, overturning furniture, tearing down every hanging or curtain that could possibly conceal a slender young man.

Aeron whirled, avoiding contact with the enraged soldiers and barely escaping a fatal collision. At the sergeant's command, two guardsmen dragged Shiela and Eriale out into the farmyard, blades at their throats. Aeron used the opportunity to slip outside just behind them, while the rest of the soldiers continued to wreck Shiela's home. Just outside, the young Lord Miroch sat atop his horse, eyes glittering with anticipation. "I thought it a waste of my time to watch the lass, but it looks like Phoros's plan has worked," he remarked. "Where's Aeron?"

"Here are the women, m'lord. There's no sign of the boy," growled the sergeant.

"What? There must be!" Miroch roared. "Search again!" The sergeant nodded and ducked back inside to supervise the efforts of his men. Aeron moved slowly to one side, holding his breath. There were soldiers all around, but none even glanced in his direction; he was safe for the moment, but Eriale and Shiela were held securely by Raedel's men.