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strange,” said Ulaf, “because he claims to know you. He told the pecwae that you sent him to find them. He used your name to try to lure them out of the city.”
    Jessan’s brow furrowed. “Why would he say that? I’ve never seen him before. I’ve been with Baron Shadamehr.”
    â€œJessan,” said Ulaf swiftly, “I’m going to tell you something that you won’t like to hear, and you must remain calm. You can’t react. I think that Trevinici is really a Vrykyl.”
    Jessan stared at him for a moment. His eyes darkened, his frown deepened, but he said nothing.
    â€œDon’t expose him,” Ulaf cautioned. “Not in here. I believe he’s after the Sovereign Stone, and he won’t hesitate to kill everyone in this place to get hold of it.”
    â€œWhat do we do?” Jessan asked.
    â€œYou go over and talk to the Trevinici. Look at how nervous he seems. He knows something’s up. Allay his suspicions.”
    â€œAnd then what?”
    â€œAll chaos is going to erupt in a moment. When it does, you grab the Grandmother and Bashae and hustle them out of here. Take them back to Alise and Shadamehr.”
    â€œWhat about the Vrykyl? He’ll try to stop me.”
    â€œDon’t worry about the Vrykyl. I’ll deal with him. Your only concern is the pecwae. Understood?”
    Jessan gave an abrupt nod and walked over to talk to the strange Trevinici. Ulaf lingered a moment, expecting the worst and preparing to deal with it. Jessan knew what he was about, however, and the two were soon conversing. Bashae munched contentedly on bread and cheese and listened to the two warriors. The Grandmother sat staring into space, her mouth gaping slightly, her gaze glassy-eyed and vacant.
    Ulaf didn’t like the looks of her. The thought came to him that perhaps she was having an apoplectic fit, as sometimes occurs with the elderly; but, if so, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He pushed his way through the crowd, heading for the bar. As he walked, he nonchalantly lifted the penny whistle that he wore on a silver chain around his neck, brought the whistle out into plain sight. He toyed with it, but didn’t put it to his lips.
    Reaching the bar, Ulaf took his place next to the man who had been rubbing his nose.
    â€œWhat news, Guerimo?”
    â€œThere was trouble in the palace. Shadamehr and the Dominion Lord had to jump through a window. Now there are battle magi after him!”
    â€œBattle magi!” Ulaf groaned.
    â€œThey’re probably on their way here now. They know this is where he holds court when he’s in the city. Do you know where the baron is? We need to warn him.”
    As Ulaf listened, he kept his gaze fixed on the pecwae and Jessan and the false Trevinici.
    â€œStrange as this may seem,” Ulaf said, “we have worse problems. I need to create a diversion.”
    â€œThe usual?” Guerimo grinned.
    â€œThe usual,” said Ulaf.
    Â 
    Jessan had made the decision to leave New Vinnengael before he had ever reached the Tubby Tabby. He’d thought it all out on his way to the tavern, which he’d managed to locate more by accident than design. He would retrieve the two pecwae and go back to their homeland, to a place where he could see the sun and breathe the air. Once there, he was certain he would be able to think things through and find again the answers that he seemed to have lost along the way.
    In Jessan’s former life—the life he’d lived before he had set out upon this journey with the Sovereign Stone—he’d been a child. In this life, he had left childhood behind. He had fought and vanquished a powerful foe. He had taken his warrior’s name—Defender. He had been faithful to his promise to the dying knight, Gustav. He had visited strange lands, met strange people. He’d come to admire some of them, come to loathe and fear others. He had