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is a traitor, as I have long suspected.”
    “No, Lord of the Nexus, you are mistaken,” said the old man earnestly and rather sadly. “Of all the Patryns, Haplo is the
most
loyal. He will save you. He will save your people, if you will let him.”
    “Save
me
?” Xar was lost in astonishment. Then the lord smiled grimly. “He had better look to saving himself.As you should do, Sartan. What do you know about the Seventh Gate?”
    “The citadel,” the old man said.
    “What?” Xar asked with feigned carelessness. “What did you say about the citadel?”
    The old man opened his mouth, was about to reply, when he suddenly let out a shriek, as though he’d been kicked. “What did you do that for?” he demanded, whirling around and confronting empty air. “I didn’t say anything. Well, of course, but I thought that you … Oh, very well.”
    Looking sullen, he turned back around, jumped when he saw Xar. “Oh, hullo. Have we met?”
    “What about the citadel?” Xar recalled hearing something about a citadel, but he couldn’t remember what.
    “Citadel?” The old man looked vague. “What citadel?”
    Xar heaved a sigh. “I asked about the Seventh Gate and you mentioned the citadel.”
    “It’s not there. Definitely
not
there,” the old man said, nodding emphatically. Twiddling his thumbs, he looked nervously around his cell, then said loudly, “Pity about Bane.”
    “What about Bane?” Xar questioned, eyes narrowing.
    “Dead, you know. Poor child.”
    Xar couldn’t speak, he was so amazed. The old man kept rambling on.
    “Some would say it wasn’t his fault. Considering the way he was raised and all that. Loveless childhood. Father an evil wizard. Boy didn’t stand a chance. I don’t buy that!” The old man looked extremely fierce. “That’s the problem with the world. No one wants to take responsibility for his actions anymore. Adam blames the apple-eating incident on Eve. Eve says the serpent made her do it. The serpent claims that it’s God’s fault for putting the tree there in the first place. See there? No one wants to take responsibility.”
    Somehow Xar had lost control of the situation. He was no longer even enjoying Samah’s tormented screams. “What about Bane?” he demanded.
    “And you!” the old man shouted. “You’ve smoked forty packs of cigarettes a day since you were twelve and now you’re blaming a billboard for giving you lung cancer!”
    “You are a raving lunatic!” Xar started to turn away. “Kill him,” he ordered Marit. “We’ll learn nothing from this fool while he’s alive …”
    “What were we talking about? Ah, Bane.” The old man sighed, shook his head. He looked at Marit. “Would
you
care to hear about him, my dear?”
    Marit silently asked Xar, who nodded.
    “Yes,” she said, seating herself gingerly beside the old man.
    “Poor Bane.” He sighed. “But it was all for the best. Now there will be peace on Arianus. And soon the dwarves will be starting up the Kicksey-winsey …”
    Xar had heard enough. He stormed out of the cell. He was very nearly irrational with fury—a drunken sensation he didn’t like. He forced himself to think logically. The flame of his anger was quenched, as if someone had shut off one of the gas jets that gave light to this palace of tomb-like darkness. He beckoned to Marit.
    She left the old man, who in her absence continued talking to his hat.
    “I don’t like what I am hearing about Arianus,” Xar said in a low voice. “I don’t believe the doddering old fool, but I have long sensed that something was wrong. I should have heard from Bane before now. Travel to Arianus, Daughter. Find out what is going on. But be careful to take no action! Do not reveal yourself—to anyone!”
    Marit gave a brief nod.
    “Prepare for the journey,” Xar continued, “then come to my chambers for your final instructions. You will use my ship. You know how to navigate Death’s Gate?”
    “Yes, Lord,” Marit answered.