Charming. My enemy, which makes me suspect all over again."I was not aware that this particular woman felt that strongly," Skan said mildly. "I do not feel it is my place or my duty to interfere in the opinions of the Haighlei. Firstly, they are yourpeople, not mine, and your Serenity will deal with them and their opinions as he sees fit. Secondly, actions tell more than words; I behave with honor and candor, and that will do more to reverse a poor opinion of me than all the arguing and attempts at persuasion of all the learned diplomats in the world."

Shalaman smiled faintly as Silver Veil translated this, and Skan went back to his examination. Since he had tacit permission to do so, he invoked mage-sight, although he frankly wasn't expecting it to work correctly. Sometimes it did, these days, and sometimes all it showed him was a wash of magical energy over everything like a fog, impossible to see through. Once in a while, very rarely, it showed him nothing. That might mean that it wasn't working—or it might mean there was nothing to see.

This time, he got that foggy wash of energy over everything, which was hardly useful.

He examined the windows, which were unlocked and open, and found nothing there, either. No bloodstains showing that the murderer had escaped that way, and no signs of clawmarks as there would be if the murderer had landed on the window ledge and grasped it as a gryphon would.

He reported both those nonfindings dutifully.

"Could a mage have done this?" Leyuet prompted.

"Certainly," Skan replied. " Ifany mage could gather enough power to overcome all the present difficulties in working magic—difficulties I am certain that Your Serenity's priests have already advised you of—this could be done at a distance, without the mage needing even to be near this room. It could also have been done physically. My opinion is that most of the damage was done while the victim was already unconscious or dead, probably the latter."

He pointed out with clinical precision why he had come to that conclusion—the lack of force in the blood sprays, the apparent lack of movement on the part of the victim. Leyuet looked sick but continued to translate.

I had better learn this language quickly if I am going to find myself fending off accusations of murder!

"I cannot tell if this was done by magic means or physical," he concluded. "There was time enough for someone to have done this by physical means before the body was discovered, since the victim dismissed her servants to brood alone during the Dance. I cannot tell if someone flew here or climbed up from below. The latter would be easy enough, for the north side of this tower is all in shadow, and does not overlook a guard post or a garden where someone might have been walking. If the murderer was very, very good, he could even have come up by the stairs and left the same way without anyone seeing him." He shrugged. "I am sorry to be of so little use."

Leyuet nodded, as Silver Veil translated, and then said something to Shalaman himself. The King spoke, and both of them listened gravely.

It was Silver Veil who translated the reply. "Skandranon," she said hesitantly, "I do not care to be the one who tells you this, but His Serenity decrees that while he is convinced for the moment that you had nothing to do with this, there are others who will not be convinced. You must therefore submit to his supervision."

Skan ground his beak, and Leyuet winced at the sound. "And what sort of supervision will that be?" he asked harshly. He could already tell from Silver Veil's expression that he wasn't going to like it, whatever it was.

"You must have one of the Spears of the Law with you at all times, or submit to being closed inside a locked and windowless room if you must have privacy," she told him apologetically. "That is the only way we can be certain of your whereabouts at all times. It is as much for your sake as ours, you know."

Oh, lovely. Either have one of these ebony spearcarriers watching my every move, or get closed up into a closet. Charming. This is not going to do a great deal for my love life! Somehow I doubt that Zhaneel will welcome a third party to our little trysts....

And the idea of any kind of exertion in a locked and windowless room, especially in this climate, was not a pleasant one.

I shall certainly lose weight. It will be steamed off!

But what other choice did he have?

None, and that's the problem, isn't it?

"Very well," he growled, making no secret of his displeasure. "Tell everyone that I will suffer that they may feel more comfortable. Tell them I will voluntarily be their hostage in a closet. I can't see any other solution."

"Neither can I," Silver Veil replied with a sigh.

It was matched by Skan's. And there was one more problem to be faced.

I have to explain this one to Zhaneel!

* * *

There was a windowless room in their suite, as it turned out; normally used as a storage room, and hastily turned into a sleeping chamber. Fortunately for him, it might have been windowless, but it wasn't airless; he had forgotten the humidity that went along with the heat in this land. You didn't dare close things into an airless chamber, not and expect to extract them again in the same shape they went in. Mildew and mold were the twin enemies that housekeepers fought here, and mildew and mold would thrive in a completely closed chamber.

So there were air-slits cut just below the ceiling, no broader than the width of a woman's palm, but cut on all four walls, and providing a steady stream of fresh air into the room.

"At least it will be dark when we wish to sleep," Zhaneel said philosophically as she set a tiny lamp up on the wall, trying to make the best of the situation. It was a good thing that she hadhandlike foreclaws, and not Skan's fighting claws—with no mage-lights available, it was either a lamp or nothing, and hecouldn't light a lamp. Except with magic, which he'd been warned not to use. "These slits cannot let in much light. And if the little ones wake at dawn and begin to play, the walls will muffle the noise."

Skan tried not to growl. It was not exactly compensation for being shut into a closet at night.

"I won't say I like this," he said, throwing himself down on their bed, and resisting the urge to claw it to bits in frustration. "I wish I had a better solution. Sketi, I wish I'd never come here in the first place! If I wasn't here, there'd be no one from White Gryphon to suspect!"

"I would not count on that," Zhaneel countered thoughtfully, stretching herself down beside him, and beginning to preen his ear-tufts to soothe his temper. "Consider; what if this were devised preciselyto implicate you? Or rather, to implicate one of the White Gryphon envoys. If Judeth had been here in your stead, the murder might seem to have been performed by a fighter; if Lady Cinnabar, the victim might have been dissected with surgical precision. Or a weapon from the north might have been found in the room."

"Hmm." Skan pondered that; it had the right sound and feel to it. "But what does that mean for us at the moment?"

Zhaneel delicately spat out a tuft of down and answered him. "Whoever did this in the first place must not realize that you were under the eyes of hundreds of witnesses at the time of the murder. The best that we can do is be graceful and gracious beneath this burden, and wait for some other evidence to surface. What is needed is motive. Perhaps this courtier had some great enemy, or perhaps she owned something that will prove to be missing." She shrugged and went after the other ear-tuft. "In any case, it hardly matters at the moment. Ithink that there is magic involved."