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away from his father and feeling like a man. For a moment he forgot his fears of Dakel and the Protectorate. Tomorrow he might face the Inquisitor with his father, but today he was free.
    Tonight, if he could escape his father, he would investigate the city. He didn’t know how long he would be in Nar or when he would have another opportunity to look around, and he had, after all, come here with a mission. He craned his neck over the railing, looking for something, anything, that might be a library or a house of scholars. The Black City had schools, surely. His mother had said so. As his mother had advised, he had even brought money with him.
    “Oh, Mother,” sighed Alazrian. He closed his eyes and summoned a picture of her. She had been beautiful. He supposed it was why Elrad Leth had agreed to marry her—that and her proximity to the king. Now she was gone. Alazrian flexed his hand, remembering his last, astonishing moments with her, and hating himself for letting her die.
    But she had wanted that. She had wanted to die and leave behind her brutal life. It had been a month now and the pain of her death was as ripe as ever, ripe as the bruises Leth gifted them both with. Alazrian rubbed his cheek.How many times had Leth struck him on the voyage here? A dozen? More? Alazrian had lost count. Hatred swam in him. Tomorrow Elrad Leth would face Dakel, and Alazrian would see his father squirm at last.
    He was just about to retire to the bedchamber when a knock came at the door. Alazrian paused, sure that it was Leth.
    “Come in,” he called.
    But Elrad Leth didn’t appear. Instead, there was a tall man with shining black hair like the mane of a stallion and long dark robes hanging loosely about his body. Even from across the room Alazrian could see the dazzling brilliance of his eyes. The man peeked over the threshold and smiled when he sighted Alazrian.
    “Young Alazrian?” he said musically.
    “Yes?”
    “Greetings, young master.” The man stepped inside and closed the door, and the rings on his fingers sparkled when he stretched out his hands. “I’m pleased to meet you. Welcome to my home.”
    Not the emperor
, Alazrian realized suddenly.
Dakel
.
    “Minister Dakel,” he stammered, bowing. “This is an honor. I didn’t expect you.”
    “Forgive the intrusion, please,” said Dakel, gliding closer. “Most likely my sudden appearance is surprising to you. But I didn’t come to alarm you.” He gave the boy a disarming grin.
    “I’m not alarmed,” said Alazrian. “As I said, it’s an honor.”
    “You’re very kind, young Leth,” said Dakel. “And I did so want to meet you before the tribunal tomorrow. The theater isn’t the best place to meet my guests, you understand.”
    Dakel laughed as if he’d made a joke. Alazrian joined in, chuckling nervously.
    “You’ve met my father, then?” Alazrian asked.
    The Inquisitor’s face immediately darkened. “Your father? No. That would be improper, I think. And I doubt your father cares to meet me. To be honest, I thought you would be more agreeable to a visit than him. But I hopeyou will extend my good graces to your father when you see him later. He is my guest. I want you both to feel welcome.”
    “Oh, we will,” said Alazrian. “Lord Minister, this apartment is beautiful. Really, I hadn’t expected this kind of treatment. To be honest, it relieves me.”
    “Does it?” Dakel seemed wounded. “I’m sorry to hear that. My Protectorate has a very bad reputation. All that we seek is the truth, for the good of the Empire. You have nothing to fear.” Then he nodded, adding, “But you fear for your father, of course.”
    Not really
, thought Alazrian. But he said, “Of course.”
    “It’s an investigation, young Leth, nothing more. Oh, but I talk too much, and you’re tired.” Dakel reached out and touched Alazrian’s shoulder. Alazrian could feel the chill even through his cloak. The Inquisitor stared at him curiously.
    “Minister?” probed