Matteo's pursuit of Andris took much longer than he had anticipated. His eager stallion ran hard the first day, and Matteo suspected that Cyric would have run through the night had not Matteo called a halt. On the second day, heavy rains slowed his progress and blurred the trail. Matteo was a strong tracker, but had he not known Andris so well, he would have missed the trail entirely. It was not the trail sign, but the small tricks and diversions that the jordain left to cover his path that Matteo found and read.

By the third day, he could no longer doubt Andris's destination. The jordain was bound for the Temple of Azuth, as he had been instructed. That made no sense to Matteo. If Andris intended to submit himself to the inquisitors, why slip away without a word?

The sun's last long, golden rays gilded the high-domed Azuthan cathedral as Cyric thundered up to the temple gate. Matteo gave his name and purpose to the gatekeeper and waited while the man went to fetch a priest.

An elderly man came to the gate, wearing the gray vestments of Azuth. Matteo's eye dropped to the holy symbol over his heart: a man's hand, index finger pointed upward, surrounded by flame. The flames that surrounded the needlework hand were not fashioned from silken threads but from magic flumes that leaped and danced, giving off a deep red light. The flame's color denoted rank. Matteo's host was a high priest. Given Matteo's part in returning the traitorous Kiva, he supposed it fitting that so august a person should come to greet him.

The priest made short work of the usual courtesies, not even offering his name. He ushered Matteo into a private study and closed the door firmly. Matteo waited with growing puzzlement as the priest fell into prayer, chanting Azuth-given spells to ward the room from magical intrusion.

At last Matteo could not contain his curiosity. "You fear that some wizard might intrude into this sacred place? That is forbidden!"

"Forbidden or not, it has been known to happen." The priest sank into a chair and waved Matteo toward another, "The man you seek, the jordain Andris. He did not present himself to the temple."

"He assured me he would come here."

"You mentioned that to the gatekeeper. You also said that Andris promised he would not leave the Jordaini College until the following morning," the priest pointed out.

Matteo had no answer for this. "I must admit that my friend's actions are a complete mystery to me. I would be grateful for whatever enlightenment you could offer."

The priest hesitated for a long moment. "You must treat what I am about to tell you with the same discretion a jordain grants his patron."

Matteo nodded cautious agreement "Insofar as I may, without betraying the interests of my patron the queen, or the service of truth."

"That will have to do." The priest sighed heavily. "Andris did not present himself at our gates, that much is true, but he was here. It is my opinion that he was looking for Kiva."

This was the strangest news Matteo had learned yet "Did he find her?"

"When you learn the answer to that question, let me know. Me, and no other."

As the man's meaning became clear, Matteo slumped back into his chair. "Kiva has escaped? But how?"

The priest shifted. "I could fashion an explanation, but why waste breath on something that will not change the situation?"

Matteo silently accessed "the situation." Kiva was gone, and with her the secret of the gate to the Plane of Water. A smaller concern, but no less urgent to Matteo, was what part Andris might have played in this. Andris believed his destiny was bound to the elven people, and Kiva was the only elf he knew. It seemed incredible that Andris would have anything more to do with the treacherous elf woman, but Matteo could not be certain.

After a long moment, he put words to his fears. "Do you suspect that Andris might have aided Kiva's escape?"

The priest shook his head. "Kiva was long gone before the jordain came. After she regained her senses, she was examined immediately, if briefly, by one of our inquisitors. She named an accomplice, who was duly executed."

"Zephyr," Matteo murmured, bringing to mind the kind, worn face of the elderly elf-the only jordain who had made him welcome during his service to Procopio Septus. "What evidence was brought against him?"

"The sentence was just," the priest assured him. "Kiva told the truth about him, if little else. The inquisitor deemed her too weak to continue, yet she fled within the hour. I wouldn't have believed it possible, but there you have it"

This pronouncement mingled good news and bad. Andris was not culpable, but on the other hand, Kiva had been running free for quite some time. Zephyr had been executed by the light of a gibbous moon, as was Halruaan custom. Since then moondark had come and gone, and a plump crescent overlooked the temple like a lazy, heavy-lidded eye.

Matteo swallowed his frustration. "What efforts have been made to recover her?"

"Officially, none," the priest told him. "You see, Kiva has disappeared into the forested pass that leads through the mountains into the Mhair Jungle. By treaty with the Mhair elves, Azuth's priests cannot enter that pass. Wizards, swordsmen and commoners among Azuth's followers are not bound by this prohibition, but none have found the elf's trail."

"Nor will they. Following an elf in a forest is like tracking a falcon's flight in a cloudy sky."

"Just so. You understand why we were hesitant to ask for assistance elsewhere."

Matteo understood perfectly. As long as Kiva's disappearance brought no additional harm to Halruaa, the Azuthans would seek her quietly, hoping to retrieve her before her escape became general knowledge.

He studied the priest "You wouldn't have told me any of this without good reason."

The priest raised his eyebrows at this blunt speech, but he did not offer a disclaimer. "Do you know this Andris well?"

Matteo repeated words he had spoken many times before. "As well as one man can know another."

His host smiled thinly. "Is that an expression of brotherhood or cynicism?"

"Both, I suppose."

"A wise balance. Tell me: in your opinion, did Andris go after Kiva? For vengeance, perhaps?"

"Were he so inclined, he would have ample reason."

"Interesting," the priest murmured. He looked keenly at Matteo. "You tracked this jordain to the temple. Could you follow him into the forest?"

"I would fare better with some assistance. There are two men at the Jordaini College who are excellent trackers, and good fighters. Will you send for them?"

The priest nodded. "If you think their expertise will balance the additional delay, yes. You trust these men?"

Matteo's answering smile was both sharp and sad. "As much as I trust anyone."

Three days passed as Matteo awaited the arrival of his jordaini brothers. He spent much of the time in the temple's library, studying maps and lore of the Mhair Jungle. The rest he devoted to learning to ride the huge, tame lizards the priests kept in their stables-just as a precaution, or so the stable hands assured him at every opportunity. These were the only mounts that could traverse the jungle. While no one from the temple actually rode into the jungle, they stressed, if need arose the proper mounts were available.

Finally the tolling of temple bells announced the approach of visitors. Matteo hastened to the gate to meet his friends.

Themo was a mountain of a man with the bluff, cheery face of a mischievous boy, and a temperament to match. Although he was Matteo's age, repeated infractions of jordaini rules forced Themo to repeat the fifth form before he could become a full-fledged counselor. Matteo suspected that Themo would not be heartbroken if this honor was never his to claim, for he was more suited to the battlefield than the council chamber. Iago was a slight, dark man with a sage's introspective eyes. He was also among the best battlemasters the Jordaini College had produced, as well as a master of horse.