Myrmeen's mask of indifference fell away at once. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't want me here," Krystin said. "If you can't be honest with me, then at least be honest with yourself. I can pack up and leave at any time if you want me to go."

The tall brunette seemed to shrink. Her shoulders fell and she leaned against the filthy wall. "That's not what I want. It's just that I don't know how to be a parent. I've never been responsible for anyone except myself."

"You think you're responsible for me?" Krystin said, aghast. "What makes you think I want that?"

Myrmeen was silent. She bit her lip and looked away. Krystin had a point. Myrmeen had been on her own at a young age, and she would have resented a complete stranger walking into her life, trying to dictate her actions. Frustrated, she cried, "What is it I'm supposed to do? If I pay too much attention, I'm crowding you. Too little, and I'm being cold!" Krystin shuddered. "You hate me, don't you?" "No," Myrmeen said, though it was true that she felt tight around the girl, unable to be herself. Staring into Krystin's eyes, so like her own, the uncomfortable feeling deepened. "I just don't want to make any mistakes with you." "You've already made the first. You just lied to me." "Krystin-" Myrmeen began as she reached for the child. "Leave me alone!" the girl cried as she turned and stormed off. Walking away, Krystin firmly resolved not to bring up the true reason why she had approached Myrmeen. For the past week she had been witnessing brief flashes of scenes playing before her eyes. The images felt like memories, but they were of events that she had never experienced. Over the past two days, the visions had come with increasing frequency. Although they only lasted a second, no more, the faces she saw were clear and distinct. One, in particular, an old man with a kind, gentle look, had returned more often than any other. She wanted to know if the others were experiencing such waking dreams, as the visions had disturbed her. But when she saw the distrust in Myrmeen's eyes, the naked suspicion with which Krystin was still regarded, she chose not to bring up the subject.

"You're going to walk into a wall if you don't look up," a voice said.

Krystin glanced upward and saw Ord approaching. She realized that she had crossed the length of the warehouse and looked around to see Shandower gathering Myrmeen and the Harpers to an old table they had appropriated from a nearby alley. Scrolls and scraps of paper were strewn about.

"Shouldn't you be attending the planning session with the others?" Krystin asked.

"I will when my opinion means something around here."

"I can appreciate that," Krystin murmured. Gazing into Ord's relaxed face, she was certain that she was watching a carefully maintained performance. He was still grieving for Burke and Varina. "How are you, Ord? How are you, really?"

"Quite good, I've been told."

Krystin felt suddenly flushed. "Will you stop," she said, embarrassed by how easily he had made her blush.

"Only if I have to."

"Well, you have to," she said, shaking her head.

"What?" Ord said with a laugh.

Krystin shrugged. "Don't let it go to your head, but the only time I feel good anymore is when we're together."

Ord stood close to her, his hand lightly brushing hers. "I feel the same way."

"It's not that I feel that I can't get away with anything when I'm with you."

"Of course not. You can get away with anything you like," he said. She took his hand, gave his fingers a slight squeeze, then sighed heavily as she heard Myrmeen and Reisz call out for the youngest members of the group to join them. Krystin shot an anxious glance in the direction of the others. She was worried that they had seen the slight touch and the look that had passed between Ord and herself. The young man was smiling and he seemed thoroughly unrepentant.

"You're dangerous," Krystin said, "very dangerous."

"I know," Ord replied as he led her to the table, where they listened to the plan for their next attack.

Later that night, Lucius left the safe house and took to the streets. His departure went undetected by the other Harpers, just as it had for the past three nights. Soon he was deep in the residential district adjacent to the financial quarter, waiting across the street from the entrance to a lavish inn known informally as the most fashionable spot in Calimport for illicit rendezvous.

Alden McGregor emerged from the front, traded pleasantries with the elegantly dressed doorman, then entered the street, moving quickly as he blended with the shadows. Above, in one of the many windows, a candle was blown out and a young woman stood near the glass, watching him depart. Lucius followed Alden at a comfortable distance. The boy soon left the main streets and became one with a maze of alleys and side streets. Lucius lost sight of the young man several times, and he was surprised when he rounded a final bend and felt something hard and flat dig into his side.

"Snick!" Alden whispered. "You're dead."

Lucius turned as Alden removed the hilt of the spring-loaded blade from his ribs. The mage's stoic expression served to disguise his unease. No one had been able to surprise him like this before, and Alden had managed to do it two nights in a row.

"I hope you don't mind," Alden said as he replaced the weapon. "No one else offers much of a challenge."

"I understand," Lucius said, wondering if his age was beginning to show, if he was beginning to slow down. "We all must take our sport where we can find it." He paused. "What do you have for me this evening?"

"This," Alden replied as he withdrew a scroll from his jacket and handed it to the mage, who opened it up and examined the parchment. "I traced this from a map that one of Pieraccinni's men left with his clothing while he was being entertained by the twins. You can see the piers, the shipping lanes, the checkpoints. Use your imagination if you must, but trust me, the Night Parade is in our hands."

"Alden, they are going to know that someone in their organization helped us get this information," Lucius said gravely. "Before they may have suspected that we were getting help from the inside, but now they'll know."

"That doesn't bother me. I'm above suspicion."

"What makes you think that?" Lucius said.

Alden shrugged. "Pieraccinni treats me like a son. I have his trust and the respect of all who serve him."

"This isn't your war," Lucius said. "Have you thought of that, Alden?"

"But it is. This is humanity's war. Besides, where's the fun if there's no risk of being caught?"

The mage had no answers for the boy. Alden's words filled him, not with comfort, but with an all-consuming fear for the safety of them all.

Night had arrived. Myrmeen and Lucius were stationed in a derelict vessel that had been left less than a mile from shore on the far side of the city, practically beyond the border. The area had proved to be a popular dumping ground for ship owners who did not wish to invest in repairing their unsafe vessels. If the information that Alden had gathered was correct, the darkness would bring a black ship that was owned by the Night Parade. According to the course Alden had laid out, the vessel would pass directly between the ship bearing Lucius and Myrmeen and another that sat a thousand yards across from them, where the remaining Harpers waited with Shandower.

Alden had supplied them with the names of the guards working the port where the ship would arrive. The guards had spotless records, primarily due to their absolute loyalty to one another. Before arriving at Calimport they were mercenaries who had never lost a single man in their twelve years together. No one suspected that they had become corrupted along the way.