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is around here? ” Brastigan didn't like being surprised, that was all. Surely he'd come around once he got over the shock.
    Meanwhile, Lottres could never pass up a chance to see Eben. He felt a shiver of anticipation. Eben was a wizard. He seldom showed it off, but everyone knew. If you wanted to know somebody's secrets, Eben was the one to ask.
    Ah, how Lottres would love to do that! It would set him apart from all his burly brothers, and no mistake. Of course, he was already set apart just by being so short. What Lottres wanted was to choose the difference for himself.
    To reach Eben, they had to pass through the massive gate to the inner ward and cross the narrow courtyard beyond. As a child, Lottres remembered hearing the stone walls echo with voices of the king's offspring, for the children and their mothers had lived directly across from the royal chambers. Sometimes they could see their father watching them, smiling when they waved to him. Alustra hadn't liked it, not the noise or the proximity of the other women, with the result that the current living quarters had been constructed away from her sight. Since then, none of them saw Unferth often enough. Lottres suspected that weighed on Brastigan, as it did on him.
    The vacant rooms had since been converted into royal archives and the offices of various functionaries. It was a strange feeling to pass through his old quarters, which had seemed so large, and find them stuffy and cramped.
    The two princes began to climb upward, into territory that had been forbidden them as youngsters. The castle watchmen still used the two lower stories. Eben had the upper three and the roof. That was where they found him, leaning between two crenels to watch the sunset. Amber light ran like syrup over the slate roofs of Harburg. Far below, a mote of bright gold glided against the weathered gray of the mountains. The falcon?
    “ Welcome, ” said Eben in his dry, smooth voice. He smiled and nodded to Lottres, who felt a flutter of pleasure. He could see why Brastigan, too, trusted Eben. He was a lot like Joal.
     The king's unofficial advisor was not elderly. Still, he had a timeless, leathery look. Hair and eyes were dark brown, the hue of well-worn hide. His garb was simple, a woolen robe of deep blue with a hood to raise against foul weather.
    It didn't take long for Brastigan to explain what had happened. The wizard's eyes lit with delight when Brastigan showed him the dagger. Lottres felt a squirming jealousy, deep inside.
    Eben took the weapon, supporting the pommel and point with his fingertips, and held it up in the light. “ Ah, ” he breathed, as if it were beautiful. “ At last, something I can work with. You have no idea how long I've been waiting. Excellent work, Prince Brastigan. ”
    “ Actually, since my brothers keep dying, I think I do know, ” Brastigan retorted.
    “ Of course, ” Eben said, ignoring the sarcasm. “ Thank you for sharing this with me, your highness. ”
    Brastigan shrugged, and Eben went back to gazing at the dagger, turning it thoughtfully from side to side. The two princes waited and exchanged glances. Lottres wasn't sure what was supposed to happen next, but he felt disappointed somehow.
    “ Master Eben, ” he suddenly said, “ may I ask a question? ”
    Eben blinked. He seemed surprised they were still there, but he nodded. “ Of course, your highness. ”
    “ Who is the Lady of Hawkwing House? ”
    Eben's face, his whole body, went still. Only his eyes, hooded suddenly, flicked to Brastigan for a moment and then returned to Lottres.
    “ So the message has come, ” he mused.
    “ Message? ” Lottres pressed. A surge of excitement returned to his belly.
    “ You knew about this? ” Brastigan interrupted.
    “ I was aware of the possibility, ” Eben admitted, “ but there are many possibilities. Not all become realities. I truly hoped this one wouldn't. ”
    Despite the suggestion of an apology, Brastigan wasn't mollified.
    “