Now he struggled, helpless in his bonds, trying to clear his vision and will hispain away.

Before him he saw figures, a bonfire limning silhouettes. Among them, asconsciousness came full upon him and he began to wish he'd never waked, wasTamzen, struggling in grisly embraces and wailing out his name, and the othergirls, and Janni, spreadeagled, staked out on the ground, his mouth open,screaming at the sky. 'Ah,' he heard, 'Nikodemos. So kind of you to join us.'Then a woman's face swam before him, beautiful, though that just made it worse.It was the Nisibisi witch and she was smiling, itself an awful sign. A score ofminions ringed her, creatures roused from graves, and two with ophidian eyes andlipless mouths whose skins had a greenish cast.

She began to tell him softly the things she wished to know. For a time he onlyshook his head and closed his ears and tried to flee his flesh. If he couldretire his mind to his rest-place, he could ignore it all; the pain, the screamswhich split the night; he would know none of what occurred here, and die withoutthe shame of capitulation: she'd kill him anyway, when she was done. So hecounted determinedly backward, eyes squeezed shut, envisioning the runes whichwould save him. But Tamzen's screams, her sobs to him for help, and Janni'sanimal anguish kept interfering, and he could not reach the quiet place andstay: he kept being dragged back by the sounds.

Still, when she asked him questions he only stared back at her in silence:Tempus's plans and state of mind were things he knew little of; he couldn't havestopped this if he'd wanted to; he didn't know enough. But when at length,knowing it, he closed his eyes again, she came up close and pried them open,impaling his lids with wooden splinters so that he would see what made Jannicry.

They had staked the Stepson over a wild creature's burrow - a badger, he latersaw, when it had gnawed and clawed its way to freedom - and were smoking therodent out by setting fire to its tunnel. When Janni's stomach began to show theoutline of the animal within, Niko, capitulating, told all he knew and made upmore besides.

By then the girls had long since been silenced.

All he heard was the witch's voice; all he remembered was the horror of her eyesand the message she bade him give to Tempus, and when he had repeated it, shepulled the splinters from his lids ... The darkness she allowed him becamecomplete, and he found a danker rest-place than meditation's quiet cave.

In Roxane's 'manor house' commotion raged; slaves went running and men criedorders, and in the court the caravan was being readied to make away.

She herself sat petulant and wroth, among the brocades of her study and theimplements other craft: water and fire and earth and air, and minerals andplants, and a globe sculpted from high peaks clay with precious stones inset.

A wave of hand would serve to load these in her wagon. The house spells' undoingwould take much less than that - a finger's wave, a word unsaid, and all wouldbe no more than it appeared: rickety and threadbare. But the evening's errorsand all the work she'd done to amend them had drained her strength.

She sat, and Niko, in a corner, propped up but not awake, breathed raspingly:another error - those damn snakes took everything too literally, as well asbeing incapable of following simple orders to their completion.

The snakes she'd sent out, charmed to look like Stepsons, should have found thechildren in the streets; as Niko and Janni, their disguises were complete. But avampire bitch, a cursed and accursed third-rater possessed of meagre spells, hadchanced upon the quarry and taken it home. Then she'd had to change all plansand make the wagon and send the snakes to retrieve the bait - the girls alone,the boys were expendable - and snakes were not up to fooling women grown andknowledgeable of spells. Ischade had given up her female prizes, rather thanconfront Nisibisi magic, pretending for her own sake that she believed the'Stepsons' who came to claim Tamzen and her friends.

Had Roxane not been leaving town this evening, she'd have had to wipe thevampire's soul - or at least her memory - away.

So she took the snakes out once more from their baskets and held their heads upto her face. Tongues darted out and reptilian eyes pled mercy, but Roxane hadforgotten mercy long ago. And strength was what she needed, which in part thesehad helped to drain away. Holding them high she picked herself up and, speakingwords of power, took them both and cast them in the blazing hearth. The flamesroared up and snakes writhed in agony and roasted. When they were done shefetched them out with silver tongs and ate their tails and heads.

Thus fortified, she turned to Niko, still hiding mind and soul in his preciousmental refuge, a version of it she'd altered when her magic saw it. This placeof peace and perfect relaxation, a cave behind the meadow of his mind, had aghost in it, a friend who loved him. In its guise she'd spoken long to him andgained his spirit's trust. He was hers, now, as her lover-lord had promised; allthings he learned she'd know as soon as he. None of it he'd remember, just goabout his business of war and death. Through him she'd herd Tempus whither shewilled and through him she'd know the Riddler's every plan.

For Nikodemos, the Nisibisi bondservant, had never shed his brand or slipped hischains: though her lover had freed his body, deep within his soul a string wastied. Any time, her lord could pull it; and she, too, now, had it twined aroundher pinky.

He remembered none of what occurred after his interrogation in the grove; herecalled just what she pleased and nothing more. Oh, he'd think he'd dreameddelirious nightmares, as he sweated now to feel her touch.

She woke him with a tap upon his eyes and told him what he was: her pawn, hertool, even that he would not recall their little talk or coming here. And shewarned him of undeads, and shrivelled his soul when she showed him, in hermirror-eyes, what Tamzen and her friends could be, should he even remember whatpassed between them here.

Then she put her pleasure by and touched the bruised and battered face: one morething she took from him, to show his spirit who was slave and who was master.She had him service her and took strength from his swollen mouth and then, witha laugh, made him forget it all.

Then she sent her servant forth, unwitting, the extra satisfaction - gleanedfrom knowing that his spirit knew, and deep within him cried and struggledgiving the whole endeavour spice.

Jagat's men would see him to the road out near the Stepsons' barracks; they tookhis sagging weight in brawny arms.

And Roxane, for a time, was free to quit this scrofulous town and wend her waynorthward: she might be back, but for the nonce the journey to her lord'sembrace was all she craved. They'd leave a trail well marked in place and planefor Tempus; she'd lie in high-peak splendour, with her lover-lord well pleasedby what she'd brought him: some Stepsons, and a Froth Daughter, and a man thegods immortalized.

It took until nearly dawn to calm the fish-faces who'd lost their five bestships; 'lucky' for everyone that the Burek faction's nobility had been enjoyingKadakithis's hospitality, ensconced in the summer palace on the lighthouse spitand not aboard when the ships snapped anchor and headed like creatures withwills of their own towards the maelstrom that had opened at the harbour's mouth.Crit, through all, was taciturn; he was not supposed to surface; Tempus, whenfound, would not be pleased. But Kadakithis needed counsel badly; the youngprince would give away his imperial curls . for 'harmonious relations with ourfellows from across the sea'.