Another time, they had efficiently searched an entire apartment without disturbing the sleeping residents.

Ruha waited until the fellow left the room, then went to the door and used the same spell she had used to unlock the latch to lock it again. A muffled cry of surprise

sounded from the hall. The guard tried the door, again speaking softly. The witch turned away and crept silently into the next room, not caring that she had alarmed him further. When the other sentry returned, he would no doubt bring a superior, who would probably insist on searching the apartment again. If the witch was still here, the sound of the lock turning would alert her to their arrival.

The next room appeared to be Lady Feng's dressing closet. In one corner stood a wooden screen decorated with the painting of a naked king and queen lying together upon a bed of purple night. In the corner oppo- site the screen were two dressing bureaus, each with a costly silver mirror hanging behind it. One wall of the room was lined by several wardrobes decorated with paintings of astrological constellations.

Though Ruha considered the room an unlikely place to hide Yanseldara's staff, she paused long enough to peer behind the screen-nothing there-and open each of the wardrobes. Inside were dozens of silk gowns in many dif- ferent styles, all dyed black as kohl and brocaded with the same endless pattern of open and closed eyes. The witch ran her hands over the floor and explored the cor- ners behind the clothes. When she found nothing but sashes and slippers, she closed the wardrobes and crept into the next chamber.

Against the far wall sat the most elaborate piece of fur- niture in Lady Feng's apartment, a large canopied bed surrounded by a folding partition. Each panel was deco- rated with the fearsome aspects of leering, grotesque monsters, such as sometimes invaded a sleeper's dreams.

In their claws, the fiends carried strange, exotic weapons like those stored in the secret armory that Ruha had dis- covered beneath the palace. There was a horned goat- man brandishing a two-bladed sword, a bat-winged tiger carrying a spear with barbed points at both ends, a red- eyed centaur whirling a three-chained flail, and a wide assortment of other hideous creatures to protect Lady

Feng's spirit while she slept.

They were not needed now. No clothes lay folded on the dressing couch beside the bed, and four of the parti- tion panels hung open, revealing a black silken quilt embroidered with the same green dragon that hung beneath the prow of Hsieh's ship. The blanket lay neatly spread over the mattress and pillows, lacking even the slightest rumple to suggest anyone had slept beneath it the night before.

Ruha's stomach sank. She had assumed all along that she would find Yanseldara's staff somewhere near Lady

Feng, but it had never occurred to her that Lady Feng would not be at home.

The absence certainly explained the guards' reaction to the rattling lock, but not much else. Perhaps Lady

Feng had spent the night in a lover's chamber, or com- muning with the spirits in some occult place Ruha had not yet discovered. There could be any number of expla- nations, most of which meant the staff would not be found here. Nevertheless, the witch decided to continue her search. Even if she failed to recover Yanseldara's staff-she could hear Vaerana maligning her already-at least there was a chance she would find something to lead her to Lady Feng.

Ruha crawled onto the mattress and ran her hands over the black quilt, then felt under the pillows. When she found nothing, she crawled off and straightened the quilt, then looked under the bed and stood on the dress- ing couch to peer above the canopy. She went to the cor- ner and inspected a low writing desk. On the surface sat a bottle of ink, a small calligraphy brush, and several blank leaves of rice paper. A well-worn text in ancient

Dwarven sat on one corner; the witch knew just enough of the arcane language to recognize the words "alchemy" and "first materials."

Though she could not see how it might be connected to

Yanseldara's staff, the witch picked up the dwarven text.

Aside from what she had already examined, there was

little else in the room. She turned to leave, and that was when she heard the scratching.

It was as gentle as the whisper of her feet across the floor, but it was steady, and there was something more: a weak, plaintive whimpering. Ruha returned the dwarven text to its place, then kneeled in the corner of the room.

The scratching and the squealing grew more discernible, and she caught a faint whiff of a gamy and slightly rank odor. An animal.

Ruha ran her fingers up the corner and felt the seam of a door. She pulled the writing desk away from the cor- ner, and a small click sounded inside the wall. The scratching and squealing stopped, but the gamy odor grew stronger. Resisting the urge to pull laerjambiya-if she attacked anything, the sun spell would fail and ren- der her instantly visible-the witch laid her palms on a fresco of what looked like a slumbering mountain and pushed.

A hidden panel swung open, revealing the interior of a cluttered chamber. A small, white-furred face peered around the edge of the door. At first, Ruha thought the thing was a monkey, until she saw that its black-tipped muzzle was long and foxlike. Then she noted the black mask around its eyes and thought it looked like a rac- coon, save that its head was as small and narrow as that of a weasel.

The creature, whatever it was, regarded the empty doorway for an instant, and then its nose twitched and its ears pricked forward. It raised its dark eyes, which remained as expressionless as they were large, toward

Ruha's face and chittered despondently. For a moment, the witch thought the little animal could not see her and was disappointed at finding no one in the door. Then it slipped forward, revealing an emaciated body and a white-ringed tail, and gently pawed at her with two tiny black hands.

Hoping the creature was not trying to defend its terri- tory, Ruha stepped past it into the secret chamber.

Beneath a brass chandelier in the center of the room stood a worktable, the surface barely visible beneath a jumble of braziers, balances, cauldrons, and other alchem- ical instruments. Three of the laboratory walls were com- pletely concealed behind rows of tall wooden cabinets, some so full of books and flasks they could not close. The fourth wall had two glass windows, beneath which were a red silk cushion, a box of fetid-smelling sand, and two sil- ver bowls licked so clean they gleamed like mirrors.

I When Ruha paused at the worktable to examine Lady

| Feng's apparatus, Chalk Ears, as she was beginning to

| think of the black-masked creature, leapt onto the only clear corner. It fixed its expressionless eyes on her face, watching her so intently she raised a hand to make cer- tain she had not suddenly become visible. When the witch could not see her own flesh, she regarded Chalk

Ears with a wary eye, then reached toward a flask of what looked like powdered blood.

A surprisingly sinister growl rolled from the creature's small throat. The hair rose along its spine and it lifted itself on its haunches, baring a mouthful of needlelike fangs. Ruha retracted her arm, and the little beast set- tled back onto its corner. The witch clasped her hands behind her back, then slowly walked around the table, studying the rest of the apparatus. Other than a fine coating of dust, she saw nothing to tell her what had become of Lady Feng. Chalk Ears watched her intently, but made no further objections as long as she did not attempt to touch anything.