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Bright’s trickery, and held as if a fair prisoner of war. They’d called him “Foster” then, as if he were some little bottle-fed lamb.
    Today had been the first time Brenda Morris had seen what a student of the hard school from which Flying Claw was an honored graduate could do. Honey Dream had thought Brenda’s ardor dampened, but now she wasn’t so sure.
    Albert Yu broke in before Brenda could ask any more of her doubtless insipid questions.
    “Shall we question this man, Twentyseven-Ten?”
    “We can try,” Flying Claw said. “Each of the four captivesis being held separately. Would you like me to bring Twentyseven-Ten to you?”
    “Please do so,” Albert responded. “Let’s see what we can learn about the nature of our enemy.”
    “And,” Pearl said, “about how immediate is the danger we face.”

III
    Superficially, Twentyseven-Ten resembled Flying Claw. There was something of the same combination of strength and grace in how he moved. There was confidence in his bearing. He was even handsome. But there were differences as well, differences that had nothing to do with him being brought before them wearing what Brenda guessed were the padded shirt and trousers he had worn under his armor.
    He walked into the room, head held high, chin slightly raised. Defiant. Arrogant, even in defeat. And despite admiring the courage that let him show that arrogance, Brenda felt there was something coarse about Twentyseven-Ten, something hardened.
    Flying Claw introduced the captive to the group.
    “This man is Twentyseven-Ten. He says he is willing to answer your questions, but first he would like to know what is intended for him and the other three captives.”
    Pearl said quickly, “That will depend on what we learn.”
    Brenda noticed that Twentyseven-Ten did not seem surprised to see an older woman asserting herself in such a fashion. It was another reminder that just as the Lands did not operate by the same rules as did her own world, so they were also not China.
    In China, only rare women rose to positions of power, but in the Lands Born from Smoke and Sacrifice duality wastaken very seriously. Six of the original Twelve had been women, yin to the six male yang signs. Twentyseven-Ten would be accustomed to women in positions of authority.
    “Ask your questions,” Twentyseven-Ten said. “I will endeavor to be worthy of my life.”
    Pearl inclined her head to Albert, letting him take the lead. Brenda suspected that in a game of “good cop/bad cop,” Pearl would much prefer to be the “bad cop.”
    Albert asked, “When you and your associates came here, what was your goal?”
    “Our orders,” Twentyseven-Ten said, putting a slight stress on the second word, as if to distance himself from personal intent, “were to capture the three renegades who had come here from the Lands.”
    “Then?”
    Twentyseven-Ten paused. Brenda thought he was considering disclaiming any other knowledge, but a flickering glance in Pearl’s direction showed that he had decided this would be unwise.
    “Then, based upon what we learned from the renegades, we were either to take them back to be interviewed by our gracious emperor, or to remain here and enable the renegades to gain favor in our ruler’s eyes by assisting us in achieving our goal.”
    “And that goal?”
    “Regaining the Twelve Earthly Branches that had been lost when the twelve advisors of the emperor were exiled a century ago,” Twentyseven-Ten replied promptly.
    “What were your specific duties?”
    “To use any combination of my abilities, both magical and martial, to facilitate the action. Our goal was to bring back alive at least one of the three renegades, preferably Righteous Drum, on the assumption that he would be the most useful.”
    “Then the others were considered disposable?” Albert asked.
    Spontaneously, a really nasty look flickered across Twentyseven-Ten’s face. His gaze flickered toward Flying Claw.
    “Yes,” he said, triumph in