He'd been standing in the mouth of the narrow street for too long; his indecision was too evident. On a nearby bench. an ancient scrimshander with a wooden leg had looked up from the piece of ivory he was working, and was watching Teldin with suspicion. He had to move.

He stepped out into the traffic along the Widow's Walk.

His nerves felt like taut wires. If his foes could detect the cloak's magic, if discovery was going to come, now was the time. He'd hear the shouts, the grasp of a strong hand, or maybe the bite of Spak's dagger. He struggled to keep his step steady and his expression free of the fear that threatened to dominate him.

He was concentrating so hard on spotting foes that it took him a few moments to realize that he could see a friend. Up ahead, in the mouth of an alley, was an unmistakable figure. Rianna's hair shone like spun gold in the sunlight. Her face was pale and drawn with pain, but her gaze was steady as she scanned the crowds. Flanking her were two large, brutal-looking men, cut from the same cloth as Barrab's sellswords.

His heart leaped, and it was all he could do not to break into a run. Forcing himself to keep to the same slow stride, he made his way through the passers-by toward her. With every step, he thanked whatever gods there happened to be that she'd survived.

He was no more than ten paces from her when her gaze passed over him and continued on. A moment later, he saw her eyes flick back to him and focus on the hilt of the sword at his hip-the sword she'd given him. He saw relief in her green eyes, but she had the self-control to keep her expression indifferent. As if bored with her vigil, she turned and walked deeper into the alley. Her bodyguards flanked her.

When he saw no one watching, he followed into the mouth of the alley. He glanced one last time over his shoulder, and his heart almost stopped. There were two more bravos behind him. They were twenty or thirty feet away, partially screened by other pedestrians on the Widow's Walk, but there was no way he could fail to recognize them. Compared to the people around them, they stood out like night wolves among a pack of lap dogs. They carried no visible weapons, but judging by their size, they'd rarely need any. Fear tightened in his throat.

The two bravos stopped right in the mouth of the alley, engaged in apparently casual conversation, blocking the narrow entrance almost as effectively as a portcullis would have. With a wash of relief, Teldin realized they, too, were on Rianna's payroll.

He turned. Rianna stood a dozen paces deeper in the alley. He rushed to her, heedless now of caution. He made to throw his arms around her, to hug her to him in a grip he never wanted to break, but stopped himself at the last minute, mindful of her injury. Instead he gently grasped her shoulders and just stared into her beautiful face, trying to pour out through his eyes the emotions he could never put into words. She smiled at him, a tired, sweet smile, and he felt that his heart would melt. At this distance, her pain and exhaustion were even more apparent. He could see there was a rudimentary dressing-originally white, but now stained dark-on her shoulder.

"Are you all right?" he asked at last. "How is your shoulder?"

"Messy," she admitted, "and painful, but not dangerous." She grasped his wrists. "And you, how did you fare? Oh, gods, Teldin-" there was a catch in her voice "-I hated to run like that, but I guessed that those wolves would sooner pursue the dog that had bitten them than pay attention to you. I see it worked."

"It worked," Teldin agreed, "but you're hurt for it."

She shrugged that off. "I'll heal." Her smile faded. "You're in deep trouble," she told him quietly. "I'm not sure you know how deep. Now, I don't know all the details about this cloak of yours-" she raised a hand to cut off his incipient comment "-and I don't want to know all the details, but I've figured some of it out. There are various groups involved, and they're all after the cloak. Isn't that right?"

Teldin nodded reluctantly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you everything earlier."

"You told me what it made sense to tell me at the time," she said. "If I were in your place, I wouldn't have told so much." A brief smile lit up her face. "But I thank you for your trust. In any case," she went on, serious again, "one of the groups is a contingent from Falx. Do you know what that means?"

He shrugged. "Barrab said it," he remembered. "Who's Falx?"

"Not 'who,' but 'where,' " Rianna explained. "Falx is a planet." She looked him squarely in the eyes. "A planet ruled by mind flayers. Do you understand what that means?"

Teldin stated at her. "Oh gods," he muttered. "Estriss."

"Perhaps," she stressed. "Estriss might be an independent, or he might just be an innocent, like you," she added with a smile, "who got caught up in events."

"I can't trust Estriss."

She shook her head wordlessly.

Teldin had thought he'd become so hardened that further shocks couldn't affect him. He was wrong. His entire body felt cold, and his chest was so tight that he could hardly draw a breath. He stared at Rianna, wishing he could disbelieve her, but he couldn't afford to. Too many other pieces of the puzzle now fit together. How did the Probe come to rescue me? he asked himself. Coincidence? I don't believe in coincidences anymore. He closed his eyes for a moment in despair. Was there nobody he could trust other than Rianna? Not even Aelfred… ?

No, he corrected himself quickly. The Probe must have been in Krynnspace on Estriss's orders. Not Aelfred's. That, at least, was something to cling to. He looked back into Rianna's eyes. "What are we going to do?" he asked.

She smiled grimly. "I was hoping you might have an idea, little chum."

Behind Teldin, steel clashed and a scream ripped the air. Teldin spun to face the alley's opening. One of Rianna's two bravos, her rear guard, was down clutching his stomach and writhing in pain. The other, short sword drawn, was facing three other hard-faced men with naked steel. As Teldin watched, one of the attackers aimed a whistling cut, which Rianna's sellsword parried at the last moment. Rianna's man riposted, but his opponent had danced back out of range, and the bravo had to parry again, desperately, to block a cut from another attacker. The guardian had to give ground, and the attackers were advancing cautiously.

"Hold them," Rianna ordered from behind him. The two bravos who'd been flanking her rushed past Teldin and hurled themselves into the melee. Swords sang their song of death as Teldin stood transfixed, watching helplessly. The attackers had to be Barrab's men, he told himself.

Rianna grabbed his arm. Her face was drawn, even paler than before-blood loss, overlaid with fear. "Come on," she yelled, dragging him deeper into the alley.

He briefly looked back to see that Rianna's three sellswords were still standing, but now were facing six attackers. Apart from the first casualty, who was no longer moving, none seemed wounded. The woman's bravos were still being forced to give ground, and it was obvious to Teldin that they eventually would be overwhelmed.

"Come on," Rianna screamed again. She was already half a dozen paces down the alley but had turned and was waiting for him impatiently. There was nothing Teldin could do but follow her.

*****

Teldin's knee was pure agony. He thought the pain couldn't be any more intense if he stuck his leg into molten lead, but still he forced himself on. At first, Rianna had left him behind, but then she'd realized that he, too, was injured and slowed her pace to match his.

They'd bolted down the alleyway, then taken the first turn to the right. It was that running turn that had inflamed Teldin's knee so badly. He cried out at the pain of it, and the world went dark and hazy around him. Somehow he managed to cling to consciousness. He'd felt Rianna's hand on his arm, dragging him farther on, and he followed blindly.