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waiting for you since nightfall. Even so, you got here awfully fast. She said you would come. I believed her. Too bad for you, isn’t it?”
    Paxon closed the door behind him. Smokeless lamps on the nightstand and on the wall bracketing a large mirror across from the bed lent sufficient light for him to see clearly. Arcannen was sitting on the bed next to his sister, his black robes wrapped about him. His small, pinched features were crinkled with amusement, his black eyes bright and eager.
    “You should have taken my advice and stayed home, boy. This probably won’t end well for you.”
    Paxon held his gaze. ‘Maybe you are the one it won’t end well for.”
    “That seems unlikely. Have you discovered who I am? Did the boy at the airfield catch you? He was supposed to give you directions.”
    Paxon ignored the questions. “What do you want with my sister, anyway? Isn’t this going to an awful lot of trouble for one girl?”
    Arcannen smiled. “Depends on how you value things. I value young women. I insist they keep their word when make bets with me. This one made a bet and couldn’t pay when she lost. Bringing her here isn’t all that much trouble. Putting her to work will not require much. Maybe she will like it enough that she will want to stay on.”
    He shrugged. “You, on the other hand, are a bit of a problem. I have no work for you. I would have preferred it if you had stayed in the Highlands, but since you have failed to do even that much, I have to deal with you more harshly than I wanted to. I hoped the beating would be enough to keep you from coming here. But your sister was right. You are beyond stubborn.”
    Paxon noticed the deep bruise across the far side of his sister’s face for the first time. She had been struck and struck hard. He felt his anger resurfacing, crowding out his fear. He had to get Chrys out of here, no matter what it cost him.
    Arcannen seemed completely at ease. He didn’t appear to have any weapons, and none of his men seemed to be about. His confidence was troubling. It suggested that whatever magic he had was more than enough to disable or kill Paxon.
    “Did you bring any money?” Arcannen asked suddenly.
    Paxon shook his head. “I don’t have any money.”
    “So you decided you would steal her back? That’s not very honorable of you. Didn’t your parents teach you better?”
    “I don’t think you should be talking to me about honor. Why don’t you just let me have my sister back?”
    Arcannen shook his head. “We are covering familiar ground. I think I’ve made my position clear on the matter. There’s no reason to talk about it any further.”
    He got to his feet, still smiling. Then he stopped suddenly, as if something had just occurred to him. “I have a thought. Perhaps you would be willing to trade me something for your sister, something you don’t value as much as you value her. For instance, that sword.”
    Paxon automatically glanced over his shoulder at the handle of the black blade. The Sword of Leah. “Why would you want that?”
    Arcannen shrugged. “I collect old weapons, especially blades. That one seems very old and might have some real value. I could be wrong, but if I’m right I will make back what I would lose by letting you have your sister back. You, on the other hand …”
    He let the rest of what he was going to say hang. But it didn’t need saying. Which was more valuable to Paxon—his sister or the sword?
    But he hesitated anyway because something about this felt wrong. Instinctively, he sensed that Arcannen recognized the weapon and knew something about it he didn’t. He was awfully quick to give up on Chrys after refusing even to consider releasing her before.
    “The offer is only good for the next ten seconds,” Arcannen threw in, looking suddenly bored. “I am already beginning to lose interest. After all, I can do so many more interesting things with your sister than I can with an old sword.”
    Paxon was certain