TheDreadHammer

StoriesofthePuzzleLandsBook1

LindaNagata

PublishedbyMythicIslandPressLLCKula,Hawaii

Thisisaworkoffiction.Allthecharactersandeventsportrayedinthisnovelarefictitiousorareusedfictitiously.

TheDreadHammer

Copyright©2011byLindaNagata.Allrightsreserved.Nopartofthispublicationmaybereproduced,distributed,ortransmittedinanyformorbyanymeans,includingphotocopying,recording,orotherelectronicormechanicalmethods,withoutthepriorwrittenpermissionofthepublisher,exceptinthecaseofbriefquotationsembodiedincriticalreviews

andcertainothernoncommercialusespermittedbycopyrightlaw.

ElectronicISBN978-1-937197-08-7

PrintISBN978-1-937197-07-0

PublishingHistory:Thefirstelectronicandprinteditionsof

thisbookwerepublishedunderLindaNagata’spseudonym,“TreyShiels.”FirstelectroniceditionApril2011FirstprinteditionMay2011

TheDreadHammerwasre-releasedinbothelectronicandprintformatsinFebruary2012,undertheauthor’sname,LindaNagata.

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Vmybrother,Smoke,ashestalkstheforestroad.Heisashadow,lostamidthemottledshadowsof

thetrees.Thewomanhehuntsdoesnotseehim.Sheisalone,hurryingsouthtowardNefión.Agauntletofimaginedfearsliesbeforeher—rootstobruisehertoes,

windfallstoblocktheway,wolveswithintheshadows—butnoneoftheseslowherpace.Theyarenothingagainstthefearthatfollowsbehindher—andmybrother’spresenceshe

suspectsnotatall.

Heisamurderer,mySmoke.Thoughhe’sjusteighteen,atleast172liveshaveendedagainsttheedgeofhissword.Maybemore.It’slikelythere

areslayingsIhaven’tdiscoveredyet.Smokedoesn’tkeepcountofthedead,butIdo.

TheHuntSmoke crept to a vantage

along a curve in the road.Peering past a veil of latesummer leaves, he watchedthe woman approach. Shecarried a sack over oneshoulder and held a staff inher hand. She walked southwithgreathaste,untilshewasstopped at the curve by apuddle of rainwater and oxdung that stretched clearacrosstheroad.Shehesitated,staring at the mire with adistressed gaze. The gush of

her breath was the loudestsound in the forest. “Rot it,”she whispered. “I am notgettingmybootswet.”

Using the staff tobalance, she edged carefullyaround the puddle, brushingup against the leafy screenwhereSmokewashidden.

Hesmiled.By her ugly clothes he

knewshewasBinthy—atribeof sheep herders and farmerswho lived in theplainsnorth

of the Wild Wood. Binthywomenwerewell known fortheirpoortaste.Theydressedlike boys as often as not, inbreeches and tunic with ashapeless wool poncho tokeep warm, and so it waswiththiswoman—thoughshewasaprettything,despiteit.

Smoke admired heryouthful face, tanned brownfrom a summer in the sun,flushed now, and glisteningwith exertion.Her black hair

was bobbed just past hershoulders. She showed littlecare for it, having tied itcrudelywith a braided stringbehind her neck. She had asweet mouth and a gracefulnose,but ashe studiedher itwas her eyes that captivatedhim. They were a deep-darkblack,framedbyheavylashesandfullofheat.

As she arrived on theother side of the puddle shestopped and turned, using

thoseexquisiteeyestosearchthe forest shadows on bothsides of the road. She stareddirectly at Smoke’s hidingplace, but still she didn’t seehim.

Next, she looked backthewayshe’dcome.Sheheldherbreath,thebettertolisten.Smoke held his breath andlistened too, but there wasonly the sound of a breezerustling the tree tops. Herpursuerswere drawing close,

but they had not caught heryet.

She set out again,renewingherfranticpace,butshe had not gone ten paceswhenSmokesteppedoutontothe path behind her. Heallowed the leaves to rustle,and she whirled around as ifshe’dheardthegrowlingofawolf.

Smokegrinned.Shewasa pretty thing. “Here you arealone,”heobserved.

Hermouthfellopen.Hereyeswentwide.But shewasashepherdgirlaccustomedtoguarding the sheep frommarauding wolves and in amoment she had her staffraisedinadefensivepose.

He cocked an eyebrow.“Areyouafraidofme?”

Sheliedtohimfromthefirst.“No!”

Her defiance excitedhim. “Then you are the onlyone. All the other women,

they feared me at the start.Thereisnohelpforit.Ihaveafearsomeaspect.”

She actually had thetemerity to look him up anddown. What she saw was atall, lean, youth, withhandsome features andlaughing eyes that glitteredgreen as if with their ownlight. His honey-brown hairwastiedinatailontopofhishead so that it cascaded in aplume down his back. His

only flaw was a three-inch,sunkenscar thatranfromtheleftsideofhisthroatdowntohis shoulder, spoiling thecurve of his neck. He wasdressed in tailored breechesand a green silk tunic, bothbadly worn, and over all, along,brown, leathercoat.Onhis back he carried a swordand a bow, and at his waist,two knives. Brown leathergloves protected his hands.His tall boots were mud

stained, and scuffed withwear.

He took a step closer toher. “It’s a wonder thatyou’re here in the forest, allalone.”

Sheliedtohimasecondtime.“Iamnotalone.”

“No longer,” heconceded, “now that I’mhere. Tell me your plan.Whereisityou’regoing?”

She raised her chin inbrave defiance. “I am going

with my kin to Nefión. It’sonlythatmybrotherannoyedme, so I ran ahead to escapehis teasing. He’ll be heresoon, though, alongwithmyfatherand—”

Smoketookanothersteptoward her. This time herknuckleswhitenedaroundthestaff and she stepped backtwo.“Comenocloser!”

He shrugged. “So whathaveyoubroughttosell?”

“What?”

“Nefión is a merchanttown.Whathaveyoubroughttosellthere?”

As she pondered ananswer, Smoke took his turnto lookherupanddown.Heimagined the pretty figurethat was surely hiddenbeneathherdirtyponchoanddowdy clothes, and for thefirst time he noticed that shehad a sweet scent, a feralperfume that stirred hisdesire. By the time his gaze

returnedtoherfacehismouthfelt oddly dry and his heartwas beating faster than needrequired.Neverbeforehadhefeltsodrawntoanywoman.

Whenhespokeagainhisvoice had gone soft andhusky. “I am taken suddenlywithafancyforyou.”

“Oh, no!” Her eyesnarrowed and she raised herstaffhigher,readytostrike.

He scowled in indignantsurprise.“Butwhynot?Ilike

the look of you. Andbesides”—(it had only justoccurred to him)—“I am inneedofawife.”

She should have beenimpressed with hiswillingnesstodorightbyher,butitwasn’tso.

Her mouth opened, andthen closed again inconfusion. A glint ofdesperation lit her eyes. “I-Idon’t think so!” shestammered, backing slowly

away. “If you had me for awife, it would be a very sadthingforyou.Youareagoodman,Icanseeit.SoIwilltellyouinalltruth,Iwouldmakeyouaterriblewife.Terrible!Iam like a boy in almost allthings.LikelyIwouldpoisonyou with my cooking, andrats would run through myhouse. The chickens wouldnot be put away, and thechildren would be dirty andill-mannered and I would

forgettokeepaneyeonthemand theywould fall inawellorbeeatenbywolves.Ifyouwantawife,youshouldmakeyour way to Nefión. As yousay, it isamerchantcityandsotheremustbemanyyoungwomen there better suitedthanme.”

By this time she hadopened a considerable gapbetweenthem.Smokefeltherreadiness. He knew that inanother moment she would

turn and flee. “You give toomuchcredit to thewomenofNefión. I’ve seen them.They’re not like you. I’venever seen anyone else likeyou.You’reawildthing,sillyasawolfcub,butverypretty,and you smell very nice. It’syouIfancy.Come,sayyou’llbemywife.”

“No! Stay away fromme! I don’t even know yourname. You are some crazedforestspirit,Ithink.”

He scowled, annoyed ather resistance. “Crazed?Me?What have I done that’scrazed? You, on the otherhand, have shown no hint ofgood judgment, fleeing toNefión as if you will findsheep to tend there. I warnyoutherearenosheep,andifyou go there you’ll soondiscover that all you have tosellisyourself.”

Sheblinkedindoubt,butthen resolve came over her

again.“No,Iamgoing.Iwillnotgohome.”

He rolled his eyes inexasperation.

Sheseized thatmoment.While his gaze was turnedimploringly skyward towardtheDreadHammer, she fled,racing away south along theroad.

Smoke laughed indelightatherdaring.Thenheslipped again into the treesand he pursued her in utter

silence, with a speed shecouldnothopetomatch.

A brook crossed the road aquarter mile farther on.Smokecamefirsttotheford.He waited until the womandrew near, then he steppedoutfromthemottledshadowsto meet her. “Tell me yourname.”

A little screechof terror

escaped her. She skidded tosuchaswiftstopthatshefellbackonherrear.Butshewasupagain inamoment.“Howcanyoubehereaheadofme?Are there two of you? Whoareyou?”

“I am one and I amalone, though I would haveyoualongsideme.Please tellmeyourname.”

“ItisKetty!MynameisKetty, and I cannot be yourwife because I am already

betrothed.”Smokenodded.“Iknow.

Youdon’tcareforhim.He’snearyourfather’sageandhasalreadyusedup twowives—soyouranaway.”

Ketty’s lips parted in around “O” of astonishment.“Howdoyouknowthat?”

“Haven’tyoutoldme?”“I’ve never seen you

before! I only ever said suchthings when I spoke myprayers to the Dread

Hammer.”“Just so. I heard your

prayer. It’s why I’m here.”Smokeliftedhisgazetolookpasther.“He’scomingalongwith your father, you know.They’re riding horses andthey’re very near. You can’toutrun them.” He looked ather again. “But I’ll kill themforyou.”

To his surprise, shegreeted this proposal withhorror.“No!Mybrothersand

sisterswillstarveifmyfatherisnottheretocareforthem.”

“Ah,Ihadn’tconsideredthat.” Smoke frowned,thinkinghard.“I’llspareyourfather then, if I can, but I’llslayyourbetrothed.”

“No,” Ketty insisted,even more firmly. “I do notcareforhim,buthehassmallchildren too and no wife—”The sound of hoof beatsinterrupted her. They camewithacanteringrhythm,faint

at first but swiftly growinglouder. Ketty made afrightened moan as she spunaroundtolook.

“There’s not muchtime,” Smoke pointed out.“Sowhatdoyouwantme to—?”

Ketty gave him noanswer, but instead turnedand fled, east into the trees.Shewentwithnograceatall,crashing through the fernsand sliding in the moss,

leaving a trail a child couldfollow. Smoke looked afterher in exasperation.Whydidshe have to make this sodifficult?Itwouldbeasimplethingtocutopentheirthroats...thoughofcourseshewasright, there were children toconsider.

So with a great sigh hesethissoultoglidealongthethreads that lay beneath theworld. In doing so hisworldly reflection—that part

of him that Ketty saw as aman—was dissolved by thespeedofhispassage.IfKettyhadbeenwatchingshewouldhave sworn he transformedintoalongplumeofscentlessgray smoke that streamedaway between the treesthough therewas nowind tocarryit.

Ferns grew lush between the

trees.Ketty bounded throughthem, until Smoke caught upwith her. In a swirl of grayvapor,hemanifestednot twosteps ahead. She had nochance at all to stop.With atinycryshecrashedintohim,knocking him off balance,even as his arms closedaroundher.

He made sure they felltogether. He went down onhissidetoavoidbreakinghisbow, and the ferns closed

over them. Theywould havebeen nicely hidden if Kettyhadn’t started to struggle.Smoke rolled her onto herback, pinning her against theground as he hissed in herear. “Be still or they’ll knowyou’re here! If they comehunting you, I’ll have to killthem.”

“What are you?” shewhimpered. “I saw you.Youweresmoke—!”

Hescowledather, lying

helpless beneath him in thegreentwilightundertheferns.“That’s what my sistersnamed me, but you don’thavetonamemethesame.”

“Smoke?” shewhispered,asthevibrationofthecanteringhoovesrumbledupfromtheground.

“It will be fixed if yousayitagain,”hewarned.

Her brow wrinkled inabjectconfusion.“Smoke?”

Hislipcurled.“It’sdone

then.”“Are youa forest spirit?

OneoftheHauntén?”“Hush now. They’re

here.”A man’s deep voice

boomed over them. “Ketty!You clumsy sow. You left atrailformetofollowasplainas the forest road.” Fernfronds crunched under thehorses’ hooves. “I broughtmy whip, Ketty, and yourhusband.”

Kettyopenedhermouth.Smokeclappedahandoveritbefore she could protest thatthe widower was not herhusbandyet.Shestaredupathimwithwildeyes.Staystill.He mouthed the words. Donot move. Do not showyourself.

She nodded tentativelyand he took his hand away.Thenhereachedoutagain tothe threads that formed theweft of the world and,

seeming to become a heavypall of gray smoke, he sankawayintothemoistground.

The living soil was areflection thrown off by amaze of fine threads in theworld-beneath.Smoke lethisawareness divide and slideacross the threads’ tangledpathsashehuntedforaspiritof mist. There were many

ancientforceswithintheweftand warp of the world-beneath. Most of them weretoo dangerous to disturb, butthe mist was one Smoke didnotfear.Sowhenhefoundit,hewokeitup.

It stirred, sleepily atfirst.Hecalledtoitagain.

Such forces expected tobe summoned only by theHauntén, the forest spirits.Smoke was not such. Themist was overcome with

angerwhenitrealizedthis.Itboiled up out of the ground,determined to chill anddeceive the insolent creaturethathaddared towaken it. Itcame so swiftly that its cold,billowing vapor startled thehorses, making them snortanddrawback.

Both men were nearlyunseated. They cried out inconsternation. Then the onewhowasbetrothedshoutedtoKetty’s father. “This is a

hauntedplace! Itwasnotmywifeweheardcrashingaway,but some enchantedcreature.”

Ketty’s father was abraverman.“Theprintofherfootwasontheroad.Itisher,andifyouwouldhaveherfora wife, then stay and findher!”

But his horse dancedbeneath him, close to panic,snorting,stamping,turningincircles. Smoke heard the

outragedpleasofthecrushedferns,Send them away! Sendthemaway!

SincethatwastheresultSmoke desired anyway, heconsentedtothetask.

Following the threadsback up from the ground, hemanifestedbehindatree,andat once he let go a greatscreech like the cry of abanshee.

The horses reared andwhinnied.Ignoringtheshouts

of their riders, they plungedback to the road and fled,galloping north, returning tothesafetyoftheirhome.

Smokewipedthewetofthemist off his forehead. “Itwouldhavebeeneasiertokillthem,”hegroused.

Ketty made no answer,andwhenhewenttolookforherhediscoveredshewasnolongeramong theferns.“Ah,Ketty, you are a clever,wildwolf.” Closing his eyes to

listen, he heard faintly therustleofherpassage.Shewasfleeing east, away from thetrailanddeeperintotheWildWood. If she had doubledback,crossingthetrailtorunwest instead, he might havelet her go. Running westwould have been a bad sign.The Puzzle Lands lay to thewest. He’d been born there,and had run away, and wasdeterminednevertogoagain.But Ketty had run east,

straight toward the sanctuaryof his secret holding in theWild Wood as if she knewthe way and was eager toreachit.

“Ketty, you can’t denywearemeantforeachother.”With a pleased smile he lethis reflection dissolve againand he set out after her, anerrant shimmer of smokebreaking free of the mist’scoldtemper.

~

OprayersarespokentotheDreadHammer,butotherspiritscanhearthemtoo.

LongagothewarriorsoftheLutawankingusedtocomenorthintothePuzzleLandstohuntandabuseourpeople,andtotakeourwomensouthtobesoldlikebeastsinthe

marketplace.WelongedforvengeanceandprayedtotheDreadHammertoteachusthewaysofwar.KoráyoftheHaunténoverheardourprayerandaloneamongtheforest

spirits,shefeltbiddentoanswerit.

Leavinghermotherandhersisters,Koráyglidedwestalongthestrongthreadsoftheworld’sweftuntilshecametotheveryedgeof

theWildWood,butfromthereshecouldnotbringherselftogoon,notwhileshestillheardhermother’svoicecallingherhomethroughthemazeoffinethreadsthatbound

hertotheHauntén.

SoKoráyprayedtotheDreadHammertobreakthosethreads.AfterwardshecouldnolongersummontheforcesoftheWildWoodor

moveassmokealongtheweftoftheworld,andwhenshelookedattheworldandtheworld-beneath,sheknewtheywerenotthesame.

Koráywovenew

threads,andwiththemsheboundherself,heartandsoul,tothepeopleofthePuzzleLands,wholaternamedthemselvestheKoráyospeople,andwhocallthoseofuswhoare

thedescendantsofKoráy“theBidden,”becauseKoráycamewhenshewasbiddentodoso.

Negotiations

The Bidden had served asguardiansofthePuzzleLandsfor fivegenerations, but theywerenot kings.TheKoráyospeople ruled themselves,decidingrightandwrongandsettling their internal affairsthrough councils andjudiciary,butallauthorityforsecurityanddefensebelongedto the Bidden—first to theTrenchantDehan,andthentohistwindaughters,TakisandTayval.

The twins were foreverlinked to one another byKoráy’s binding threads.Takis was eldest, if only byanhour.People said shewasa spirit like Koráy—proudandbright,abornleader.Shewas a warrior by choice, adiplomat by need, aseductress as the chancepresented itself, and abelovedfiguretotheKoráyospeople. By contrast, Tayvalwas an enigma. She was

rarelyseenoutsidethefamilyhall at the Fortress ofSamerhen, and she neverspoke, not even to theTrenchant. Many assumedhertobesimple,butthetruthwas otherwise. While Takiswas the bright face of thetwins,Tayvalwas the sourceof their deep intellect andpower.

Both were in conflictwith their father, theTrenchantDehan.

“I differ from myfather,” Takis said softly,whisperingintotheearoftheLutawan general as they laytogetherinhertent,withonlyasingleoillamptoholdbackthe night's shadows. “I thinkour conquest of theborderlands is a mistake.Holding this territory doesn’tmakeusmore secure. Itonlyfeeds resentment, and makesit harder to negotiate what Iwant—a true and lasting

peacebetweenourpeople.”The general lay on his

back, his eyes closed, a halfsmile on his lips as helistenedtoher...orperhapshe was just enjoying thewarmth of her breath againsthis ear. Certainly he wasrelaxed, pleased with hisprowessanddeeply satisfied.Takis had seen to that—andshewaswellequippedforthetask. Still young at twenty-six, comely if not beautiful,

darkhaired,greeneyed,withawarm-brown,well-balancedface and an athletic figure,she had easily won thegeneral’sappreciation.

“Ihaveaheartfeltregardfor you,” he confessed in agentledvoice.

His was a strong andhandsome face with a proudnose and chin, smooth lips,and a sun-darkened, browncomplexion. His black beardwas neatly trimmed, as was

his black hair. Takis hadenjoyed him as a lover—shewas a bit befuddled by howmuch she had liked him.Thetaste of his skin had pleasedher somuchmore thanothermen she'd known. Evenbetter, she liked his temper.Nedgalvin felt like a manwho could think for himselfand could think in radicalnewwayswhilestillknowinghowtoappeasetheoldguard.Howelsecouldhehavebeen

promoted to general at theageofthirty-seven?

Takis said, “In myexperience, amanwho findshimself welcomed into hisenemy's bed is inclined tothinkhehas alreadywon thewar.Areyousuchaman?”

He opened his eyes tolook at her. “Are you such awoman, to bring thebattlefieldintoyourbed?”

“Iam.”He stiffened, as if

suddenly suspecting that shehad a knife hidden in thebedding.

She smiled at thisrevealed fear. “It's not myambition to bring you downNedgalvin, but to raise youup.”

He gave her a crookedsmile. “You have alreadydone that, lady, quiteeffectively.” Then he rolledonto his side, reaching forher, as if ready to start all

overagain.“In a more permanent

fashion!” Takis protestedwithalaugh,lettinghimspillheroverontoherback.Hesetabout kissingher cheeks, herneck,herbreasts,whileTakissaid, “I tire of your king. Ithink war is his onlyamusement.”

“Perhaps you’re right.But I have more diverseinterests.” His kisseswandered ever lower on her

belly.“Ah, but you are a

rationalman.”“Iwas, before I lostmy

headoveryou.”Takis drew in a quick

breathashegentlyspreadherlegs, tasting what was there.Herfingersgraspedathishairasshewhispered,“Arationalman—likeyou—wouldmakeabetterking.”

He stopped hisministrations,raisinghishead

to gaze at her with anxiouseyes. “Don’t speak suchwords, Lady. They will beheard. Know that my onlyambitionistoservetheking.”

Takis nodded somberly.“That is right and proper,whoever the king mayultimatelybe.”

“Are you a kingmaker,Takis?”

“I cannot negotiatewiththe existing one, so it seemsI’mforcedtobe.”Shesatup,

shiftingsothatshewascross-legged in the bed. “Think onit,Nedgalvin.Peacewouldbea benefit for both of us, butpeaceis impossiblewhiletheLutawan king preaches thatour oppression andenslavement is mandated byyourgod.”

Takis knew the truename of this godwasHepentheWatcher.Hewascastoutof the north long ago by theDread Hammer. But in the

south people had forgottenhisnameandcalledhimonly‘God.’

“The king speaks forGod,”Nedgalvinsaidasifbyrote. “You must submit tohimtobesaved.”

“We would rather besavedfromhim.”

The general winced. Hesat up in turn. “Is it trueyou’reawitchwhocanreadaman’smind?”

Takis laughed. “The

DreadHammerisnotsocruelastoforcemetowallowinaman’sunfilteredthoughts.”

The general did notshareherhumor.“Iwishyoucould hear mine now. I darenotspeakthem.”

“Because the king hearsallthings?”

Thegeneralnodded.“Whatever the reach of

his mind, he can’t penetratethe Puzzle Lands. Will youcross theborderandcome to

mesowemayspeakfreely?”“Icannot.”“I’ll open the way for

you.”“Iwouldbemissed.”“Forasinglenight?”“Can I trust you?” he

wondered.“Youmustchanceit,but

I assure you it’s a chanceworth taking. Will youcome?”

He thought on it formany seconds, and in truth

Takis could not read hisintention. Then at last henodded.“Iwillcome.”

Takis smiled. “Thenourpresentnegotiationsaredone.Return to your ownencampment now. But twonights hence, an hour pastsunset, come alone to theTrader’s Stone—you knowwherethatis?”

“Yes, but there is nopass over the mountainsthere.”

“Therewillbewhenyoucome. Ride past the stone,toward theSéferiMountains.The way will be open. Wecall it Scout’s Pass.The trailis very narrow at times, butonce you reach the crest,you’llseeFortVeshitan.”Shecocked her head, studyinghim thoughtfully. “I’ll tellyou this,asa token toaffirmmygoodfaith.Allthewomenwho flee from the southernkingdom seeking refuge in

the Puzzle Lands are housedfor a time at Fort Veshitan.There are at least a hundredthere at all times, beingschooledinourcustoms.Thisis how I know it’s possiblefor your people to learn newways.Willyoucome?”

The general’s face hadgone stony, though whetherto hide his anger or hiseagernessTakiscouldnotsay—nor did itmatter. Hemustprove his own good faith. “I

will come,” he said gruffly.“Butonlyifyouwithdrawallyour troops from the regionaround the Trader’s Stone,and from this hidden pass. Iwillnotriskbeingseeninanactoftreachery.”

“The way will be opentoyou,”Takissaidagain.“AsasignofmygoodfaithIwillwithdraw all my troops andalso the spells of deceptionandconfusionthatprotectthepass.”

Thegeneralnodded.“Sobeit.”

Theybothdressed.ThenTakiswalkedwiththegeneralacross the encampment, eachone flanked by their ownescort. At the edge of theKoráyos lines they bid oneanother a formal goodbye.The general and his menmounted their horses and setout toward the Lutawanencampment, marked by ascatteringofsmallfiresmore

thanamileaway.Takis stood watching

their retreat until her sister,Tayval’s, voice spoke crispand emotionless in the backof her mind.Don’t hope toomuch.

“Perhaps he’s braverthan he seems,” Takis saidsoftly.

Two women on watchstoodnearby.Bothlookedupatthesoundofhervoice,butonly for a moment. The

KoráyossoldierswereusedtoTakis,“speakingtoghosts.”

Takis bid them bothgood night, then returned tohertent,alone.

~

Thereistheworld,

andthenthereistheworld-beneath.Inmymindtheyareseparateplaces,butSmokeisliketheHaunténinthatheseesnoseparationandmoveseasilyinboth.He’sliketheHaunténin

thatthelivesofinconvenientpeoplemeanlittletohim.He’sliketheHaunténinthathiseyesshinewithanemeraldgleamwhenthelightisdim.Heisoftenmistakenforaforest

spirit,butSmokeisnotHauntén.It’snotinhisnaturetosummontheforcesoftheWildWoodasthetrueforestspiritswilldo.

Andyetforreasonsnooneunderstands,

Smokeisnotlikeus.

WearetheBidden.WeareboundtothepeopleofthePuzzleLandsbythethreadslaidonourfamilylongagobytheHaunténnamedKoráy.

The

threadsKoráywoveboundallherdescendantsforfivegenerations—all,thatis,exceptmybrother,Smoke,whoseheartwasnotentangleduntilthatdayontheforest

road.

APrettyWifeKettyran,notknowingifshewas more afraid of herfather’s wrath or of the madHauntén. She ran until herlungs burned, until shecouldn’t take another step.Then she collapsed, rolling

beneath the fine, tremblingbranches of a pale greenbush, the better to hideherself. She lay on her back,her chest heaving, alreadyunsure from what directionshe’dcome.

Aminutepassedandherbreath quieted. Several moreminuteswentbyandstillsheheard no sound of footsteps.Maybe she’d escaped? Shehoped so. Truly. Althoughthere had been something

sweetaboutthemadHauntén,despite his bluster . . . andsomething tantalizing in thescentofhimashelayagainsther in the ferns, somethinglikesunonrocks,ordarkredflowers...

But it wouldn’t do tothink on that. She had to gettoNefión.

So Ketty gathered hercourage and crept out frombeneath the bush, moving asquietly as she couldmanage.

She looked around—andgaspedwhenshe sawSmokestanding only a few feetaway. He was leaning upagainst a tree trunk,his armscrossed in an attitude ofpatientwaiting.As theireyesmet he greeted her with apleased smile. “I’m glad youchanged your mind, Ketty. Ithought you’d be morestubborn.”

Ketty leaped toher feet,regretting how she’d let her

thoughts stray—but hecouldn’t know, could he?“What do you mean?” sheasked with a hammeringheart.

“Howdidyouknowthiswasthewaytomyholding?”

“Is it?” Ketty lookedabout at the endless,undistinguished trees. “Ididn’t know. And I don’twanttogotoyourholding!Iwas just running away fromthe forest road. I don’t dare

setfootonitagain,myfathercould return. Tell me please,is there some other way toNefión?”

His cheerful aspectchangedatoncetosomethingfearsome. His green eyesglittered with a dangerouslight. “You still speak ofNefión?”

Ketty shivered. Thethread of her life feltsuddenlyfragile,butsheheldonto her courage and

answered, “I do. There issomeotherway,isn’tthere?”

He scowled andshrugged exactly like aresentful boy. “There arecountless ways if you makeyourownpath.”

Again, Ketty lookedaround. Every directionseemed the same to her.“Won’tIbecomelost?”

“Yes,ofcourseyouwill.Lostoreaten.”

“I won’t be lost if you

showmetheway.”“And why would I do

that?”Making an effort, she

put on her sweetest smile.“To show me your kindheart.”

“I don’t have a kindheart,andnordoIlie,asyoudo.”

“Oh,rot it!”Shebent topickupherstaff.“Justtellmewhich way the forest roadlies. I’ll take my chances

there.”“Itliesbackthewayyou

came!”“Right! Of course it

does. And, well—”Anembarrassed flush warmedher cheeks. “Which way isthat?”

He turned his gazebriefly skyward, as ifimploringtheDreadHammerforanextrashareofpatience.Thenhe fixedhisgreen eyeson her again. His anger had

faded, leaving himperplexedand maybe a little hurt.“Ketty, why do you pretendnot to likeme?Why do youplayatrunningway?”

Her treacherous heartwonderedthesamething,butshe defied it, and him.Thumping her staff againstthe ground, she said, “Youare the most astonishingcreature! So utterly spoiled.Look at you—pouting!—because I have not agreed to

takeyououtoftheblueasmyhusband.”

“You only refusebecauseyou’restubborn.Youwant me. I know you do.You’re just too proud toadmitit.”

“Thatisnottrue.”“And you should be

flatteredthatIwantyou.”“Youaresovain!”“So? Ihavegoodcause.

I’m beautiful. My sistersalwayssaidso.”Helickedhis

lips and spoke more softly.“Youthinksotoo.Icanhearyour heart beating fasterwhenyoulookatme.”

“That’s because I’mafraid!”

“YouevenlikethewayIsmell,don’tyou?”

She blushed. “You areimpossible! You will drivemetodistraction!Evenifyouare beautiful—and I’m notsaying thatyouare!—Idon’tevenknowyou.”

“You knowme.You’venamedme.”

“Smoke?Whatkindofaname is that? That’s not aman’s name, but then you’renot amanareyou?You’re aforest spirit. One of theHauntén.”

This was too much forhim.Hedrewback,affronted.“How have I harmed you,that you take such delight ininsultingme?OfcourseI’maman.Howcould I fancy you

otherwise?”“Today you fancy me,

but what of tomorrow, nextmonth, next year?What willbecome of me when yoursudden fancy turns tosomeoneelse?”

“Andwhoshouldit turnto?” He looked around, hisarms spread wide, palms upin a helpless gesture. “Whoelseisheretodistractme?”

Kettywasstunned.“Youlive alone in the Wild

Wood?”“ItoldyouIambutone

and I am alone. Don’t youpay attention to anything Isay? Ketty, you must ceasethisargumentandyieldtomenow.There’snogood reasonforyoutodecline.”

“Oh,yesthereis!Idon’tfancyyou.”

For a moment heappeared too stunned tospeak. Had he neverconsideredsuchapossibility?

But a moment later a brightsmilechasedhisdoubtaway.“Ketty,youaresuchaliar.”

She bridled. “How dareyouspeak—”But just thenacloudshifted,slidingfromtheface of the sun. A brighterlight reached through theleaves to flicker over hishandsomefeatures:hispretty,golden-honey hair, his finenose, his white teeth, hissparkling green eyes. Thescaronhisneckwascastinto

shadow. Ketty blinked, herheart racing and her throatgone dry. “It’s just . . . IplannedtogotoNefión.”

Smoke stepped closer.He held his hand out to her.“It’s better here. No onecomes here. It’s a hiddenplace.Your fatherwill neverfindyou,andI’llshareitonlywithyou.”

She thought it over. Togo with this creature wassurelyamadthingtodo,and

yether treacherousheartwasurging her to give in, if onlyfor the present. “I am verytired,”sheconceded.“MaybeI could stay at your housetonight before I go on toNefión?”

Smoke took his handback. He lifted his chin.“You’re asnervous as a she-wolfjustoutoftheden.”

“Well,ifyoudon’twantmetocome—”

Hebaredhis teeth.“Oh,

Iwantyou.Verymuch.”She shivered, but when

he turned to go she yieldedand followed meekly afterhim. What choice did shehave? Better to go with themad Hauntén than wait forthewolvestofindher.

TheWildWoodwas an old,old forest. Perhaps as old asthe world, though Smoke

rarely paused to considersuch things. Bright greenferns grew in the gloombeneaththetrees,theirfrondshiding a clutter of fallenbranches.Lookinglesshappythan the ferns, azaleas andberry bushes bided againstthe day a storm might bringdown an elder tree and opentheirdimworldtolight.

Itwouldnotbethisday.Above a scaffolding of oldbranches the trees still held

on to their summer leaf. Thecanopy shuffled and swayed,sendingrandomglintsoflighttumbling to the forest floor.The glittering was quenchedoccasionally when cloudspassed over the sun, but itwasstillafineday,oneofthelast of summer. Smokethought theremight be a fogthatnightandraintomorrow,but he didn’t fret on it.Tomorrowwouldtakecareofitself. Today, his only

concernwastobringKettytohisholding.

Ofcoursetheyhadtogoonfootandthisannoyedhim.He hated walking. Whybotherwith itwhenhe couldslide with great speed alongthe threads beneath theworld? But Ketty couldn’tfollowhimonthatpathsohewasforcedtowalkwithher.

It was a very longway.Hehadn’t realizedhow long,since he’d never walked it

before.Thefarthertheywent,thefartheritseemedtheystillhad to go and so, frustrated,Smoke went ever faster. Hewas sure that as soon as hebroughtKetty to his holding,assoonasshesawtheprettycottage he had built, the lastof her doubts would bechased away and she wouldconfess that she did indeedlovehim.

“Smoke!”Her distant cry startled

him. He looked back to findthatshehadfallenbehindyetagain,andsoagain,hewaitedfor her. He was alreadycarryinghersack.She’dbeenwilling to let him do that,though she insisted onkeepingherstaff.

“YoushouldbebetteratwalkingthanIam,”hesaidasshecamehuffingup.

Her temper flashed.“You are taller thanme, andyouhaven’tbeenwalkingfor

twonightsandadaywithoutrest,andyouareHauntén.”

“Iamaman.”“Howmuchfarther?”Hethoughtonit,feeling

the pull and stretch of thethreads.“Somewhileyet.Butthere’s a brook not far fromhere. It’s a good place torest.”

Faroff throughthetreestherecamethesweetwailofawolf’s howl. Anotheranswered it, and then many

took up the song. It was amisty sound, floating downfrom the tree tops. Smokeclosed his eyes, the better tolisten, until he felt Kettyclutch his hand. She wastrembling. “Are you afraid?”he asked with an amusedsmile.

“Theyarewolves!”“Of course they’re

wolves. I like to follow themsometimes when I’mhunting.” He laughed. “It

annoys themwhen I take thefawn they wanted for theirowndinner.”

“Theydonothuntyou?”“Why would I let

them?”She looked up at him

with her dark eyes. Suchprettyeyes.“Andthebears?”sheasked.“Areyouafraidofthem?”

“No, nor the lions. Andyou don’t need to be afraideither while you’re with me.

Now come.” His handtightenedonhers.“Thebrookisn’tfar,andyou’llfeelbetterinthesunlight.”

But to his exasperationshe shook off his hand, andinsistedshewouldfollowtwopacesbehind.

In unnumbered spring floodsthe brook had polished cleana field of smooth gray stone

that now, at summer’s end,flanked its glistening water.Ketty lay back, her headpillowedagainsthersackandhereyesclosedasshebaskedin the golden light ofafternoon.

Smoke stood gazing attheprettyturnofherface.Hedid fancy her. He truly did.Never before had he felt thisway about any woman. Buthe was discouraged. Whywould shenot admit that she

caredforhimtoo?The song of wolves

reached them again. Kettystiffened.Afteramomentshespoke without opening hereyes.“IsthereanythingintheWild Wood that can causeyouharm?”

“Don’t worry on it.We’renowherenear thedarkheart.”

Ketty opened her eyes,raising her hand to shadethem from the brilliance of

the sky. “Then there issomethingyoufear?”

“TheHaunténliveinthedarkheartof theforest,but Idon’t go there.” For as longas he could remember he’dfelt a dread of the Haunténand their fastnessdeep in theWild Wood. But he did nottell this to Ketty. “Myholding is hidden, and safe.Noone evenknows it exists,and I’ll kill anyone wholearnsit.”

Ketty sat up. “So youreally would have killed myfather,ifI’dletyou?”

“It would have beenbetter.Lessrisk.”

“Youspeakas ifyou’vekilledmenbefore.”

Smoke laughed. “Didyou trulywonder?Of courseI’ve killed men before. It’snothingandIdon’tcareaboutit.” He walked down to thewater’s edgewhere he knelt,gazingattheshapesoffishes

swimmingat thebottomofadeep,calmpool.

Idon’tcareaboutit.Withoutwarning, a sick

heat stirred in his belly. Hegrimaced, and then he heardhimself speaking in a softvoice that hardly seemed hisown, “I don’t like to killwomenortheirchildren.”

The words were hardlyout when the feeling passed.Why had he spoken at all?“Don’t think on it,” he told

himself in a whisper. Hestoodupagainandinafirmervoice he said, “Come,Ketty.Thedayshavegrownshorter,and we still have some longwaytogo.”

He turned, and wassurprised to find Kettyalready on her feet, her sackslung over her shoulder, andherstaffraisedagainsthimasfear and fury waged in hereyes. “You’ve murderedchildren?”

Hewastakenbysurpriseand his own temper flashed.“They weren’t your people!And anyway, it was a war.The Trenchant commandedit.”

She was aghast. “TheTrenchant?You’reaKoráyoswarrior? From the PuzzleLands?”

“Ketty, will there neverbe an end to your questions?Youtrymypatience!”

“Answer me, Smoke!

AreyouaKoráyoswarrior?”“I was, but no longer.

Nowcanwego?”“No.” Ketty took a step

back.“Idon’twanttogoanyfartherwith a bloody-handedservantoftheBidden.”

Smoke’shandssqueezedinto fists. A flush heated hisneck and cheeks.Kettymusthave sensed his perilousmood.Shegasped,stumblingaway as if expecting him tocome after her with his

sword. He wondered if heshould.

Then again, the wolveswerehunting.

“Go on!” he told her.“Goonyourway.I’myoungyet.I’llfindanotherwoman.”Heturnedhisbackonherandwalked on, so used towalking now that in thetumult of his thoughts heforgottherewasanotherway.

Leavingthesun-warmedrock, he slipped into the

shadows of the forest. Thatwas when Ketty called afterhim in a tentative voice,“Smoke?”

Heignoredher.She called him again.

“Smoke!”He berated himself.

You’rebeingafool!Heknewhe should go back and killher. It wasn’t likely that shecould evade the wolves andfindherwayoutoftheforest,but it wasn’t impossible

either.Andifsheescaped?Ifshespokeofhim?Ifwordofhis presence got back to thePuzzle Lands? He couldn’triskit!

So turn around and killher!

He only walked fasteruntil she cried out after him,“Smoke,wait!”

Her command stoppedhim short. It wasn’tsomething he willed. His lipcurled in frustration. He told

himself towalk on,walk on,but he stood rooted in place.Curse theprayersofwomen!He was bidden by them,especially when it was onewomanaloneandinneed.

Ketty’s boots rustledthoughtlesslyintheleaflitteras she bounded after him.“Smoke.”

To his surprise shecaught his hand again. Shelookedupathimwithaglintof tears inherdarkeyes.But

he shook his head. “You’retoodifficult,Ketty.”

“I know I am, but it’sbecause I was born wrong.My mother said I was bornundertheredmoon.Itsspiritcrept inside me, and that’swhy I am like I am. Mybrothers and sisters are allgood and obedient, but I’mnot. I’m stubborn, and lazy,and pig-headed too—and Ialwaysargue.”

“Ketty of the Red

Moon,”he saidwithdisdain.Then he reclaimed his handand set off again. But hewasn’t thinking anymore ofkilling her. He knew hecouldn’t do it. He’d have torely on thewolves nomattertherisk.

But she wasn’tcooperating at all. Instead ofgoing on her way, she wastrotting alongside him.“Smoke,wouldyou...reallyfindanotherwoman?”

“Yes.”“You’vegivenupthen?”“Yes.”“ButIthinkwe’rebound

together.”He stopped again and

glareddownather.Sheblinkedhardastears

threatened to spill over. Shespokeinachokedvoice.“I...Iwasthinkingthatmaybe—if you’re done withmurdering—that maybeyou’re better company than

wolves.”Hissmileblossomed.He

couldn’thelphimself.“That’snotwhatyouwere thinking.”He touched her soft cheekandtohisdelightsheactuallyleaned into his hand. “Youwere thinking how muchyou’dliketospendtonightinmybed.”

Thatspoiledit.Shedrewback, wide eyed. “No!Well,sortof . . .but Idon’t like itthatIhavenochoice!”

“You had a choicebetweenmeandthewidower,betweenmeandthewolves.Idon’thaveanychoiceatall.”

“I’m supposed to feelsorryforyou?”

Heshrugged.“You’reimpossible!”“Kissmeanyway.”“Orgotothewolves?”“You already have the

soul of a sharp-toothedwolf.Don’tdeny it!You’re awildthing.”

“All right then.”She sether handon his left shoulder—but her attention wasimmediately caught by thedeep scar on his neck. “Didyougetthatinbattle?”

“That was from aLutawan officer namedNedgalvin. I’ll find him andkillhimsomeday.”

“It looks like your headwasalmostcutoff!”

“Italmostwas.Nowkissme.”

He was awash in herpresence. Ketty must havefelt the same way, becauseshe needed no moreencouragement. Standing onher toes she stretched up topressherlipsagainsthis—

And Smoke chuckleddeepinhisthroat.“Youdon’tknowhowtokiss,doyou?”

She drew back. “Andwhat do you expect? I’veneverkissedanyonebefore.”

“I have, and it’s done

softly. Like this.” He bent,and brushed his lips againsthers, and then he wentdeeper, and as he tasted hermouth he felt a mesh ofbindingthreadsweavingtightbetweenthem.

“It is such a very littlecottage, isn’t it?” Ketty said,inaverysmallvoice.

It was day’s end, and

they stood on the edge of adainty round meadow oftasseled grass. Five deer hadbeenpeacefullybrowsingbutatKetty’svoicetheystartled,bounding away along thebankofabrookthatranalongthemeadow’s southern edge,until they disappearedwithinthe towering forest. Mistgleamedallalongthebrook’scourse, made golden by thesetting sun, but on themeadow’s north side twilight

had already come. A hillstood there, studded withtumbled gray boulders thatwore cloaks of moss. Ascatter of stunted trees grewbetween them.At the footofthehill, flankedbygrovesofyoung aspen already gold inleaf,wasatinyroundcottageof wattle and daub. It had asingle door,woven of sticks.Nowindowslookedoutfromits brown walls. It huddledshyly beneath the wide

overhangofathatchroofthatitworelikeatall,conicalhat.Faintskeinsofsmokeseepedup through the thatch, toescapeintothesky.

Smokelookedonitwithgreat pride. He had built ithimself,alone.Itwasthefirsttime he had ever builtanything. “It’s a perfectround,” he bragged. “Asroundas thesun,sofine thata hearth spirit has come tolive there, and keep the fire

lit.”Ketty pressed a knuckle

againstherlipandspokewithsome despair. “The smoke iscomingupthroughthethatch.Whyistherenochimney?”

“Becausethisoldwayisbetter. The smoke keeps thesmall creatures of the forestfrom making a home in thethatch,soitneverleaks.”

“But there is no properdoor.”

Smoke shrugged. “I

woveadoor from thewattle,butdon’tworry.There’shideon the inside to keep in theheat.”

“Andthepalisade?”“There’s no need for a

palisade.No armywill comeheretoassailus.”

“But what of thewolves? The bears? Theforestlions?”

Smoke laughed. “Ketty,you worry too much!” Hetookherhandandkissedher

cheek.“Come!Comeseeourhome—andourbed!”

HesetofftrottingacrossthemeadowandKettyhadnochoice but to follow at hishurried pace despite herachinglegs.Theycametothedoor. It was fastened onlywithaloopofleather.Smokeunhooked this andpulled thedoor open. Ketty peered in,but it was so dark she couldseeonlyafaintglowofcoals.

Smoke swept her up in

his arms. She yelped insurprise.“Putmedown!”shecried,evenassheclutchedatthefrontofhiscoat.

He grinned. “You’realwaysplaying.”

He bore her over thethreshold, into a murky,smoke-shot darkness relievedonly by the red glow of acentral hearth, and by thegoldenshimmerofthehearthspirit, visible for a momentbefore it sank into thewarm,

dryground.Ketty yelped again as

Smoke dropped to his knees.He spilled her onto a palletstuffed with straw. Her handstill clutched his coat. Shestared in fascination at hisgreen eyes, glittering in thedarkness. Then she pulledhimcloser.Hekissedherlipsasshelaythere.Hekissedherface and her neck, evenwithhisweaponsstillonhisback.

She returned his kisses.

She even found her lipsbrushing the deep scar givento him by a Lutawan soldiercalled Nedgalvin. It shouldhave repulsed her, buteverythingabouthimseemedsuddenlyprecious.

The cottage was quietfor a time. The hearth spiritreturned.ButsoonafterKettyshed her poncho and Smokegaveuphisweapons.Thenanoiseofsighsandmoansandmurmurs frightened the spirit

once again, and by the timequietreturned,theskyoutsidewasfilledwithstars.

~

Twe’vewagedwaragainsttheLutawan

kingsincethelong-agodaysofKoráy,noneofushaseverseenhim.Whetherhe’sonemansustainedoverthecenturiesbymagic,orasuccessionofmen,Icannotsay.Ionlyknowthathis

peoplehatehim.Givenhalfachance,theyoungwomenfromthebordervillageswillabandontheirfamiliesandfleenorthtothrowinwiththeKoráyosarmy,againsttheirown

people.Notoneofthemhaseverbetrayedus.Buttheirpresenceinourarmyinfuriatesthesouthernkingandmakesitdifficulttonegotiateatruce.

TrustTwo nights after her trystwith General Nedgalvin,Takis set out from FortVeshitan in the company ofChieftain Rennish whocommanded the irregulars,and Chieftain Helvero whowaschargedwithholdingthecaptured lands south of theSéferiMountains.Theywenton horseback, following awindingtrailupthroughthick

forest.TheSéferiweresteep,rising in knife-edged ridges,but they weren’t high. Tallpines and massive hemlocksgrew all the way to thesummit.

The riders crested andstarted down again. The trailreacheditsendafewminuteslater at a lookout aboveScout’s Pass. They left theirhorses among the trees andwalked out onto a pier ofrock. A gazebo stood at the

farthest point, its roof andhalf-wall providing a tokenshelter. Starlight and a sliverofsettingmoonilluminatedasheerdroptothepassononeside,andontheother,adeepandverynarrowcanyon.Theborderlandsbeganat the footof the mountains—a mixtureof tall grass and groves oftrees,andbeyond,farms,nowmostlyabandoned.

“We should burn offmoreof thosegroves,”Takis

said.“Theyprovidetoomuchcover.”

Rennishwasnearlyfifty,tall and slim, with short hairand a narrow face. She’dtrained Takis in combat, andTayvalandSmoketoo,andascommander of the irregularsshe spent much of her timedeepinthefield,soshedidn’thesitate to disagree withTakis.“ThecoverbenefitsusmorethantheLutawanforces—andifyouburnitoffforno

good reason you might findsomeHaunténwhoobject.”

“Are there Hauntén intheborderlands?”

Rennish nodded. “Idon’t think they live there,but now and then, I seethem.”

“Look there,” Helverowhispered. He was youngerthanRennishbymanyyears,a powerfully built man, andthough he tended to be rashand ambitious he’d proved

his worth many times incombat.

Takis followed hispointinghandtotheplainfarbelow, where a horse andriderhadjustemergedfromagrove close to the Trader’sStone. Takis watched him—she had no doubt it wasNedgalvin—as he rodethrough the grass toward thestone’s tall, wind-sculptedspire.TheTrader’sStonehadmarkedthestartofthepassin

along-agotimebeforeitwashidden.

Nedgalvinpausedbesidethestone.Turningaround,heheld his right arm out to hissideandraisedandlowereditthreetimes.

Atthissignalalonglineof horse soldiers issued fromthe trees, riding in silencetowardNedgalvin.

Takis let out a long,disappointedsigh.

Helvero snorted. “I

never took Nedgalvin for afool. Does he truly believethispassunguarded?”

“Perhapshetrustedme,”Takissaid.

“Hismistake.”Long ago Koráy had

fencedthePuzzleLandswitha maze of defensive spellsthat had been reinforced andaugmented in thegenerationssince. The passes weredisguised, the trails hidden,but the way would open to

those who were welcome:Koráyos warriors, nomadicmerchants, the tribal peoplesoftheWildWoodandthefarnorth. But any who wereunknown or unwelcome inthe Puzzle Lands put theirlives at risk if they tried tocross the mountains. If theywere lucky, such intrudersmight find themselves on awell-marked trail thatdoubled back on itself in along exhausting loop,

returningtrespasserstowherethey’d started. If they werenotlucky,thetrailmighttakethem into a trackless forest,ortotheedgeofacrumblingcliff or to amountain torrentthatcouldnotbecrossed,andthen when they turned to goback,thetrailwouldbegone.

Sometimes, invaderswould simply be steered intoatrap.

Takis sensed thepresence of her sister Tayval

inthebindingthreads.Tayvalwas far away, secure in theFortressofSamerhen,butshewas also in the world-beneath, poised like a spiderat the center of aweb of tenthousand threads radiatingoutward, woven into thestructure of the air, the land,the mountains. If Tayvalshould pull on one of thosethreads a wind might rise, astorm might brew, or ahidden pass might be

revealed—as tonight, whenScout’s Pass lay open toGeneral Nedgalvin and hismen.

The general’s soldierscaught up with him.Moonlight glittered on theirspear tips. “At least twohundred,” Rennish said. “Heintendstotakethefort,attheveryleast.”

Takis watched as thehorses climbed in a windingline up the trail, to disappear

beneaththepines.She had deliberately

temptedNedgalvin by tellinghim of the refugees at FortVeshitan.ThegodofLutawa,Hepen theWatcher, despisedwomen. He allowed them tobe sold by their fathers andownedby theirhusbandsandany women who objected tothis natural order werebeaten, and if they stillcouldn’t learn right andproper behavior, they were

executed. But sometimes awomanwouldescapeandfleenorth to the Puzzle Lands.Manyoftheserefugeeschoseto become soldiers in theKoráyos army. Theirconversion to strong andcompetent fighting troopsdirectly contradicted theteachings of the Lutawanking, and infuriated the menwho made up his army. Noofficer loyal to the kingwould forego the chance to

slaughter the refugees whobelieved themselvessafe inaKoráyos stronghold. Even ifno man in Nedgalvin’scompany survived to return,wordwouldescape,andthoseyoung women who werethinkingoffleeingmightthenthinktwice.

Takis had hopedNedgalvinwouldbedifferent.She’d hoped that he couldthink for himself, that hewould prove to be a rational

man.She’dsetherheartonitand her disappointment wasbitter. “Damn you,” shewhispered, feeling suddenlyas if her heart would tear intwo. She had liked him! Butmore,hehadbeenbrightandirreverent and courageous,and despite Tayval’s dourcouncil, she had let herselfbelieve he was capable ofsetting aside five generationsof animosity, that he hadintellect enough to see a

differentway.She had imagined too

much. “Sowego onwithouthim,” she said, with only aslight tremor to her voice.Ever since Koráy had taughtthecraftofwar to thepeopleof the Puzzle Lands, nocompany of the Lutawanarmy had been allowed tocome over the SéferiMountains or through theEast Tangle. Takis did notdoubtitwouldcontinuesofor

another five generations, solongastheBiddensurvived.

Butifwedonot?Tayvalasked, speaking their sharedfear.

Both sisters knew thatwithouttheBiddens’mazeofdefensive spells, theKoráyospeople must eventually beconquered, and not becausethey were weak. They werefabled warriors, men andwomen both, trained to thefield. But they were few.

Measured against the greatcities of the south, theKoráyos were a tiny tribe.Without the spells of theBidden to keep the Lutawanking at bay, his warriorswould come. If thesoutherners lost ten thousandmen each year for ten yearsfighting to gain the passes,they would still come, andeventually they’d breakthrough. Then the PuzzleLands would be overrun and

theKorayospeople forced tolive by the cruel customs ofthesouth—ormurderedwhentheyrefused.

So Takis and Tayvaldreamed together of makingpeace with Lutawa, andsecuring the future of theirpeople—and if peace couldnotbemadewith thewickedcreature worshiped now asking, then they would do alltheycould to seeanewkingsetinhisplace—butitwould

notbeNedgalvin.In the world-beneath

Tayval tugged a thread, andthe trail to the pass fadedfrom sight. She twitchedanother thread—a concert ofothers—and a false trailopened.

Leaning over thegazebo’s half wall, Takiswatched, until far below shesaw the line of horsemenemerge from the trees tofollow the false path Tayval

had laid for them. Theyenteredthenarrowcanyon.

The moon had sunk solow its light couldn’t reachinto the defile, so Takislistened to the distant clip-clopof thehorses’hooves togaugetheirprogress.

It’stime,Tayvalsaid.Takisstraightened.“Itis

time,”sherepeatedaloud,hervoice grim. In her heart shedid not believe there wouldeverbeanothergeneralmore

suitableforking-makingthanNedgalvin.

Tayval tugged on athread, and the night’s quietwas shattered by a greatcrack! and then by adeafeningcrashof stoneasacliffgavewayinathunderingavalanche and the groundtrembled.

Takiswalkedbacktoherhorse.

Nedgalvinrodeattheheadofhis column ofmen. The trailwas steep, and the horseslabored to climb it, but hewas grateful for the denseforest that would keep themhidden from any eyeswatchingfromabove.

The Bidden witch hadsaid to come alone, and hemight have done it, just foranother chance of a nightwith her. Takis was anentirely different creature

from the dull and stupidwomen of the south, whorequiredguidanceintheleasttask.Shewasmixedblood,ofcourse, part Hauntén andmaybe not truly a woman atall, but something more.Nedgalvin had met enoughKoráyos women on thebattlefield that he suspectedall of them were descendedfromthebastarddaughtersofwandering Hauntén. Theywere bright, strong, and

daring.Hesmiled to thinkofthetemerityTakishadshown.It was her ambition to be akingmaker! To tempt him totreason...andhemighthavelistened. The kingdom wasshot through with rot.Everyoneknew it, thoughnoonesaidsoaloud.

But Takis had made amistake when she told himabout the fortress where therefugees were housed. Thedeepest rot in the kingdom

was among its insipidwomen,thosewhowhisperedto one another of sisters anddaughterswho’dmadeanewlifeinthenorth.Suchwomenwere like sheep. If onewandered, another wouldfollow without thought, andanother after her, and so itwas that many hundreds haddisappeared into the PuzzleLands where, no doubt, theywarmedthebedsandkeptthekitchensofKoráyosmasters.

The exodus must stop.The Lutawan Kingdomdepended on both the laborand the wombs of suchwomen. Nedgalvin wasdetermined to end thewhispers.HewouldtakeFortVeshitan and slaughter therefugees he found within itswalls. It was the right andproperthingtodo.

Beneath the trees, thesetting moon did little toshowtheway,butastheyleft

thetreesandenteredanarrowcanyon, the moon’s feeblelight was extinguishedaltogether by the high walls.After that Nedgalvin rodewith his lantern in hand. Itsfaint beam picked out thetrail. Severalminutes passed.Then suddenly his horsesnorted,sashayingtotheside,its tail whisking the air inirritation. Nedgalvin raisedhis lantern to see what layahead, but his light didn’t

reach more than a few feet.Heurgedhishorseon,but itrefused, so he dismounted.Behind him, other animalswere stopping—champing,stamping, blowing—whilefartherbackinthedarkcametheclip-clopofmorehooves.Wind soughed through treebranches, and a tiny streamtrickledbesidethetrail.

Cautiously, he movedforward on foot. Soon thebeamofhislightpickedouta

tumble of stones across thetrail, and a few feet fartheron, a cliff wall studded withsparse brush and stuntedtrees. He frowned. Had hemissed a turning in the trail?Hecasthis light to the right,walkingseveralpaces,hopingto discover the proper way.Then he turned about andexploredtotheleft.

But there was no wayforward.

Suddenly, he

understood. He spun around,bellowing to hismen, “It’s atrap!Turn around.Retreat tothe lowlands. All haste! Donotwait—”

His last command wasforever lost behind a great,thunderous concussion, as ifGodhaddrivenanaxintothemountains above and splitthem wide. Then came adeafening roar that shookhim, blood and bone, shookthe very groundhe stood on.

His light went out as gritpummeledhimfromallsidesand a wind blasted up thecanyon. He screamed at hismen to run, run! But hecouldn’t hear himself. Hecouldn’thear them.Hecouldsee nothing. But he knewwhere the cliffwas. Ignoringhis own orders, he began toclimb.

~

WSmokewaslittlehe’dawakeinnightmare,alwaysthesameone,adreamofbeingtrappedinacrushingcageofbloodandboneandnomatterhow

hekickedandstruggledhecouldn’tfreehimself.Oncehesaidtome,“Myfatherwantedmetodieinthere,”whichisofcoursethetruth.

MyfathercallsSmokehis

demonchild,butifmybrotherisademonit’sourfatherwhomadehimso.

EnchantmentAtfirstKettywasafraid.NotofSmoke—notsomuch—but

of the unseen perils of theWild Wood: the wolves, thebears, the lions, theHauntén,andthevastlabyrinthoftreesthat held her isolated fromanyotherhumanpresence.

She didn’t count Smokeas human. Not entirely,anyway.

“Why do you live sodeep in the Wild Wood?”Kettyaskedhim,onthatfirstmorning in the little roundcottage.

He was crouched at thehearth, frying fish he’dcollected from a trap in thebrook.“Icandowhat Iwanthere.Andmymindisquiet.Ialmostneverhearvoices.”

“Youheardmine.”He nodded, smiling to

himself. “And for that I’llalwaysbegrateful.”

Kettythoughtitoddthatsuch sweet words could bespoken by a murderer, butreally, it was better not to

think too much about whatSmoke might have donebeforeshemethim.

Very quickly, their lifetogether tookonpatterns.Onmostdays theywent into theforest to gather roots, fruits,herbs, and nuts against thecoming winter. They neverhurried, but spent the hourslaughing and kissing andtalking of inconsequentialthings. These days passedsweetly.

But every few daysSmoke would go alone tohunt.

The first time he wasgone Ketty stayed in thecottagewith the door closed,while all her imagined fearsgathered around outside. Butas the days passed herimagination grew lessfevered. Soon she worriedonlyalittleaboutthewolves,the bears, the lions, and theHauntén. Then she would

standat the cottagedoor andlistentothemurmuringofthebrook and the gossiping ofthetreesastheyspoketooneanother in rustles and creakson topics beyond herunderstanding, until lateafternoon finally brought ahappy shout from the forest,“Ketty,I’mhome!”

Then she’d run to meetSmoke as he came stridingthrough shafts of mist-drenched sunlight with the

quartered carcass of a deeroverhisshoulder,orthemeatof a forest sow—and despitethebloodandthesmellshe’dhughimgingerlyandkisshismouth, because even if hewasn’tentirelyhumanhewasshowinghimselftobeagoodhusband, in every way thatmattered.

Smoke marveled at the

binding threads that tied himtoKetty;eachdaythereweremore than thedaybefore, allof them tight and strong. Hefelt her always in histhoughts. Evenwhen he wasfar awayheknew if shewascontent or if she wasconcerned.Ifanythingshouldcome to threaten her hewouldknowitandbeabletoreturn to her within secondsalongtheworld’sweft.

But there was nothing

withinhisholdingthatwouldbringherharm.ThebeastsoftheWildWoodknewhiswillanddidn’ttroublehim,andifany woodsman dared toventure so deep into theforest, Smokewouldknow itby the trembling of thethreads—and such atrespasserwouldbedeadlongbefore he could follow thescent of wood smoke to thecottage.

The days passed, until

winter chased away the briefautumn season, laying crispsnowacross themeadow.Onthat first snowy morningKetty was happy. With herbarehandsshescrapedupthesnow and packed it into arude clump.And to Smoke’sastonishment she flung it athimwhenheturnedhisback.When it explodedagainsthisshoulder she ran awaylaughing and only afterseveral seconds of thought

(and another snow stoneburstingagainsthischest)didheunderstanditwasagame.

“Don’t juststand there,”she scolded him. “Defendyourself!” And a third snowstone went flying on a paththat would take it past hisshoulder.Hecaughtitinsteadand flung it back at herunderhand—though he madesure to miss. But she wascaught by surprise, andjumped back anyway—and

he was there to catch her,heavingheroverhisshoulder.She laughed,herhairwild inher face. “Putmedown, youidiot. This is not how it’splayed.Youmustmakeyourown snow stones and throwthematme—”

She shrieked, when hemadeasiftodropher,butofcourse he caught her again,setting her feet gently on theground. “Never,Ketty,” said.“You’repreciousandIwould

never hurt you. I don’tunderstand how any mancould.”

“It doesn’t hurt, silly.”Then she laughed at herself.“Notsomuch,anyway.”

AllthatdaySmokewasquiet,seeming wrapped up inthought, which was not hisway.Kettyworried.“Tellmewhat’s on your mind,” she

urged him, as they laytogether thatnight,withonlythe glimmer of the hearth,andthehearthspirit,forlight.

He sighed. “Do youknow why men are cruel towomen?”

She turned toward him.“Smoke!Youarenevercrueltome.”

“Notme,silly.Menlikethose in the LutawanKingdom. Men like yourfather. He especially should

have loved you. I thinkmenlikethathaveevilhearts.”

“No, my father wasn’tevil.”

“Then why did he beatyou? It makes me furiouseventothinkonit!”

She kissed his nose, hiseyes. “Hush.Don’tbeangry.IamKettyoftheRedMoon.”

He laughed. “You’re amaddeningwoman,it’strue.”

“Ha! But anyway, hewasn’t so angry when my

motherstilllived.”Smoke didn’t answer

rightaway,soshekissedhim.For a while. Finally, hespoke. “I didn’t have amother.”

“What?” She proppedher headuponher hand andfrowned. “What do youmean,nomother?Wheredidyou come from? Out of atree?Conjuredfromafire?”

“Cutoutofacorpse.”She tensed, reminded

again that he wasn’t quitehuman.But then sheguessedthe truth. “Yourmother diedin childbirth, right? Whydon’t you just say it, insteadof making it sound like youwere born in evil? Womendie giving birth. It’s a sadthing,butithappens.”Again,his answer was delayed. Shesaid, “I heard of a boy once,whose mother died minutesafter hewas born.His fatherhad four sons already. He

carednothingatallforafifth.He claimed the infant wasevil.Hetookitawayfromthebreast of his sister, carried itinto the forest, and left itthereforthewolves.”

Smoke sighed. “Myfather gave me no name.”Then his teeth flashed in agrinthatbanishedhissombermood. “My sisters—they’retwins—they were only eightyears old when I was born,but they decided they had to

stealmeaway.Isupposetheyfound some woman to nurseme,thoughIdon’trememberit. I remember them though.They played with me like adoll. For ten years! Theywerethebestmothers.”

Ketty smiled too. “Anddid theyfinallygrowtiredofyou?Or have babies of theirown?”

“No. My father cameone day. He spoke to themgently, saying I was too old

and they couldn’t play withme anymore. They wereeighteenthen,grownwomen,but they cried when he tookmeaway.”

“Anddidyoucry?”Smokesnorted.“Infront

of my father? Ketty, even atten,Iwasnotthatfoolish.”

“Hemadeyoubecomeawarrior?”

“Yes.”“Didyouwantto?”“It’swhatwedo.”

She squeezed his hand,suddenly frightened. “So it’sat least twice you’ve almostdied. First when you wereborn, and then when thatsoldier Nedgalvin cut yourneck.”

“He didn’t hurt me somuch.”

She shivered, squeezingclosertohiswarmth.“Liar.”

Smokechuckled.“He was trying to cut

yourthroat,wasn’the?”

“Why do you want totalkabouthim?”

“Because it makes meafraid when I think whatcouldhavebeen.Smoke,ifhehad killed you we wouldnever—”

“Shh…” He set hisfingers against her mouth.“Hedidn’tkillme.Ihatehimthough.AndsomedayI’llkillhim.”

Kettywenttosleepsoonafterthat,butSmokewasleft

restless by her questions,rememberingthatnight:

He hadn’t been afraid, goingin.He’dbeeninthefieldonlyeight days, but ChieftainRennish’s irregulars hadalready raided two villages,both deeper in theborderlandsthantheonetheywould hit that night. No oneanticipatedmuchtrouble.

Most of the Koráyossoldiers waited with theirhorsesinahollowamongthehills, but Smoke had goneahead with ChieftainRennish.Asduskcame, theywere crouched on a brush-covered hillside,watching asthevillagerscameinfromthefields.

The fields and thevillage were both well kept.Round houses had been laidout in neat, concentric rings

splitbyasinglestraightlane.Where the lane passedthrough the center of thevillage there was a square,with a common hall on oneside and a plank-walledchurchontheother.

Scouts had reportedLutawantroopsbilletedatthevillage the night before.Smoke saw no sign of thetroops now, but it didn’tmatter. By the Trenchant’scommand, any village that

gavesupportorshelter to thesouthern army—willingly ornot—would be burned to theground.

As the last of thevillagers disappeared intotheir homes, ChieftainRennishturnedtoSmoke,andnodded.

It was Smoke’s task togoinfirst.

He reached out to thethreads that lay beneath theworld.His reflection became

a streaming gray vapor. Heentered the village, madeinvisible by the encroachingdark. Moments later, hishuman reflection took shapewithin the shadow of thecommonhall.

For several seconds hemadenomove,onlylistened.

Heheardthecluckingofchickens, the rustle of pigs,but nothingmore. Therewasno murmur of voices, nosmell of supper cooking, no

peopleinsightatall.Yetintheweftandwarp

of the threads he felt thegravity of some two-hundredpeople, far more thanindicated by the number ofhouses. So he knew theLutawan troops were hidingin the dwellings—they musthave been there all day—inexpectation of this twilightraid.

Smoke grinned.Chieftain Rennishwas in for

asurprise.Or she would be, if he

didn’twarnher.Hestartedtoslip again beneath theworld.He was already half-gone tosmokewhena flamingarrowignited the thatch roof of asmallshedacrossthestreet.

Hestaredatit,stunned.Fire was the signal he

used to alert ChieftainRennish and summon thecharge.

The flame took hold

while he was still trying tounderstand where the arrowhadcomefrom.

Then several thingshappenedatonce.

A chorus of Koráyoswarcries resoundedfromthesouth,followedinstantlybyathunder of hooves stormingtoward the village.An arrowshot pastSmoke,missinghisear by a whisper. And acommanding voice shoutedfromsomewherenearby,“All

forward!” And with thatcommand, doors flew open,war horses were squeezedthrough doorways, and oneafter another, riders vaultedintotheirsaddles.

Smoke pulled his swordand attacked. The nearestLutawanhadonlyonefootinthe stirrupwhen Smoke splithisspine.Anotherfellwithaslit throat. Then an officerwho had made it into thesaddle spotted Smoke and

boredownonhimatagallop.Smokeretreatedbeneath

theworld.He emerged againacross the square, the plankwallofthechurchathisback.The Lutawans were all onhorseback now. They wentcharging off to meet theoncoming Koráyos militia—all but the officer who’dtargetedSmoke.

He had turned his horsearound and was spurring itacross the village square

straight toward the church.Smoke glimpsed him: a tallman, lean, strong,withblackhair and a neatly trimmedbeard. As he bore down onSmoke he raised his saberhigh, anticipating thedownward stroke. Smokebared his teeth. Time toretreat again. Once more, heprepared to slip beneath theworld, but this time theofficer took him by surprise.Hethrewhissword.

Smoke was young,barelysixteen.Thiswasonlyhis third battle. He hadn’tknown it was possible tothrow a sword with anyaccuracy. Then again, theblademisseditstruetarget.Itshouldhavestruckhimfullinthe throat, severing hiswindpipeorhiscarotidartery,but instead it caught him atthecurveofhisshoulderandneck. The blade struck withforce enough to hurl him

backward against the plankwallof thechurch.Thepointof the sword passed throughhisneckandbitdeepintothewood,pinninghim.

Again, he set himself toslipbeneaththeworld.

Or he tried to. Butnothing happened. He didn’tgo anywhere. He sensed thethreads, felt their warp andweft,buthishumanreflectionrefused to yield.The steel ofthe sword had pinned him in

theworld.The Lutawan officer

brought his horse to askidding stop and vaultedfrom the saddle. Smokegrabbed for the hilt of thesword—hehad topull itout!—but he couldn’t reach it.Theofficerdrewalongknifefrom a sheath at his waist—andSmokedidtheonlythinghe could think to do. Hewrenchedhisbodydownandto the side, letting the sword

cut itself free. Hot bloodcascaded over his back andchest. “Hauntén demon!” thesoutherner swore as Smokedodged the first thrust of hisknife—and then Smokeslippedaway.

Nothing about him everchanged when he ran thethreads,sohedidn’tbleedouteventhoughitwassomelongtime later when he reachedSamerhen. He went straighttohissisterTayvalwhereshe

wasreadinginherroom,andcollapsedinabloodyheaponhercarpet.

She saved his life,pinching the threads thatunderlay his body andstemming the flow of blood.Afterward it took her manyhours to suture his severedmuscles and sew his skinclosed.

He learned later theofficer’s name wasNedgalvin.ChieftainRennish

had lost one-quarter of hertroops that night, beforecallingaretreat.

On the next morning Kettywoke abruptly. Lurching toher feet, she stepped pastSmoke,stumbledtothedoor,yankeditopen,andtooktwosteps in her bare feet beforefallingtoherhandsandkneesinthefreshsnow.Sheretched

up bile and a remnant ofsupper.

Afterwardshewastired,but in the afternoon she wassmiling again and she atesome soup. The nextmorning, though, her illnessreturned.

That night Smoke layawakebesideher,fearingandfrettingthatawintersicknesshad found her. Such spiritscould bide where they werenot wanted, slowly eating

away the sweetness of life,leaving only a wasted huskwhereoncealaughingpersonhadbeen.

He resolved to hunt theconsumingspirit,butwhenhefelt the threads it was notsickness he discovered butsomething small and farsweeter. “Ketty,” hewhispered. Then he kissedher cheek and gentlysqueezed her shoulder.“Ketty,wakeup.”

Shestirredandlookedathim in the fire’s light, hergazepuzzled.

He set his hand—verygently—against her belly.“It’samagical thing.There’sa baby here, growing insideyou.”

She set her hand overhis.“Areyouhappy?”

“Idon’tknowhowsuchathingcouldbe.”

A puzzled note enteredhervoice.“Doyounot?”

“That’s not what Imeant.”

“But are you happy? Iwasafraidyou’dbeangry.”

“Angry? Why would Ibe?”

“I don’t know. I mean,it’s thewayof theworldthatwe should have childrentogether...don’tyouthink?”

“I think it’s a magicalthing.”

“Thenyou’rehappy?”“I think so . . . Ketty,

youalreadyknew?”“It is the way of the

world,mylove.Whyareyousurprised?”

~

TBiddenareamixtureof

Haunténandhuman.It’sanunnaturalblendandourchildrenarerare.Myfather,theTrenchantDehan,wastheonlychildofhisgeneration.Helovedandmarrieda

Koráyoswomanwhosafelyboretwindaughters,butdiedinagonygivingbirthtomybrother,Smoke.

Myfathertriestofindanewwife.He’shadmanylovers,

butnonethatsuithim.

Iandmysisterhaveenjoyedmanyloverstoo.

Butitseemsourkindmustbeinlovetoconceiveachild—adeeplyinconvenient

prerequisite,Imustsay.

ANewGodFort Veshitan was the firststop for those women whohadabandonedtheirlives—orwhatpassedforalife—intheLutawan Kingdom. At thefort they were taught the

customsof thePuzzleLands.Afterward, some went on towork, and others to marry,but many—driven by thefervor of the converted—went on to train as Koráyoswarriors.

It still astonished Takishow the cowed and timorouswomenof thesouthcouldbetransformed into such fiercefighters—but then again, anywomanwhofledthesouthernoppressionandmadeitwhole

to Fort Veshitan must havebeen born with a largehelpingofcourage.

Thenewrefugeeshadallbeen packed off to theirbarracks by the time Takiscame into themess hallwithRennish and Helvero, butmany of the instructors andcounselors were still awake.The cook was too, and hecame at once with bowls ofstew,andslicedbread.

Several minutes

passed in silence as they ate.Finally Rennish leaned over,fixingTakiswithasuspiciousgaze. “It’snot likeyou tobesoquiet.Areyouallright?”

Takis looked up with aside-eyed resentment. “Onlyyou could get away with aquestionlikethat.”

Rennish’s weatheredface wrinkled in a smile. “Ibelieve inmaking use ofmyadvantages. This one hit youhard,didn’tit?”

Truth?Takisfelthollow,tense,confused...asifshe’dmisplaced somethingprecious. Something shewasn’t likely to find again.She hadwanted so badly forNedgalvin to be the manshe’dimaginedhimtobe.

But what man was everthemanyouimagined?

“Itwastherightthingtodo,”Takissaidinamatter-of-factvoice.

Rennish wasn’t fooled.

“Hewasyourlover.”“The best of many.”

Beside her, Helvero set hisbowl downwith a sharp rap.Takis ignored him. “Youwant to know if I regret it?”she asked Rennish. “I do. Iregrettheneedforit.”

“Best that he’s gone,”Helverosaid.“TheTrenchantwould go mad if it was aLutawan general who finallyfatheredachildonyou.”

Takisturnedtohimwith

a dark look. She’d givenHelvero a chance to get herwith child, and he’d failed.She said, “If I should everhaveachild,noonewillcarewhothefatheris.”

Helverolookedsour,butRennishchuckled.“You’llbeall right,” she saidwith easyconfidence. “Come morninghe’ll be gone from yourheart.”

Takisstooduptogo.“IfI findgoodcompany tonight,

he could be gone before Iclosemyeyestosleep.”

Shetookheremptystewbowl and headed to thekitchen, intending to return itto the cook, but on the wayshe heard a fragment ofconversation that caught herear:“There isanewgodyoucanprayto.”

Curious, Takis walkedmore slowly. Two youngwomen sat relaxed, oppositeeach other at a small table

near the kitchen, beers half-gone before them. OnelookedtobeKoráyos—slimlybuilt, fine brown hair, darkeyes. The other had the darkhair and heavy accent of aLutawan volunteer. She wastheonewhohadspoken.Herbackwasturnedsoshedidn’tnoticeTakisasshecontinuedin a bold, laughing voice.“They say Dismay is awoman’s god. Make yourprayers, and see what

happens.”Takisputdownherstew

bowl on an empty table andslid into a chair between thetwo young women, startlingthem badly. They both drewback, wide-eyed, but it wasthe Lutawan volunteer whorecovered her composurefirst. “Good evening,ma’am.”

Takis met her searchinggaze. “I’m curious. Who isthis holy Dismay, that she

deservesyourprayers?”The Koráyos woman

looked as if she’d beencaught with dessert beforedinner, but the southerneranswered with a confidentgrin. “My name is Priscilla,ma’am,andthisisSantrel.”

“Greetings,” Takis said,and they shook hands allaround.

“And Dismay . . . well,the first thing to say is thatsheisahe.”

Takis was startled. “Amale god? But you said thisDismayisawoman’sgod.”

Priscilla’s humor driedup. She looked suddenlysomber and serious. “Yes,ma’am. Whether he’s a newgod, or a fickle old god thatcomesonlyrarely,Ican’tsay,butnoteventwoyearsagohewas in the borderlands. Hecameinanswertotheprayersof the oppressed, and hedispensedabloodyjustice.”

Takis had never heardtalk of such a spirit before.“Howbloody?”

“There was a girl.Fourteenyearsold.Herfatherwasindebt,sohegaveherinpayment. Her master cut hersacred gate and raped her,and he forced her to workuntilshediednotayearlater.So her mother prayed toDismayforvengeance.

“He came on a sunnyafternoon. He sliced the

throat of the master and cutdowneverymanonthatfarm.Then he told the women totake what coin they couldcarry and flee north. Heburnedthehouseandthebarnand the silos and slaughteredthelivestockthatwasleft.”

Takis was shocked.“Whotoldyousuchastory?”

Priscilla’s gaze didn’twaver. “No one told me,ma’am. It’s my story. Themaster was my father. The

deadgirlwasmycousin.Themother who prayed toDismay—shewasmyaunt. Itold her the stories I’d heardof the bloody god. I told herto pray to him, because Iwanted to leave that placebeforeIwassoldinmarriage.IwantedtobecomeawomanofthePuzzleLands.”

“And your aunt?” Takisasked. “What became ofher?”

“She was old, ma’am.

She couldn’t run fast enoughwhen the soldiers came afterus,butshetoldustogoon.”

“Us?”“Myself.Mylittlesister,

and my aunt’s youngerdaughter.Thetwogirlsareinschool now at Samerhen.TheyliveonthecoinDismaytold themto take,andwhat Isendthemfrommywages.”

Takisleanedbackwithasigh, wishing one of theunfinished beers belonged to

her. Perhaps the cook readhermind.Hecameupandseta fresh glass in front of her.She nodded her thanks. Butbefore she picked it up sheturned to the Koráyoswoman, Santrel, who hadbeensilentsofar.“Whatneeddoes aKoráyoswoman haveto prayer to such a bloodygod?”

“No need, ma’am,”Santrel said softly. “It was ajoke. I would never pray to

suchagodunlessIwastakenprisonerbytheLutawans.”

“Itwasa joke,”Priscillaagreed, with a rueful look atSantrel. “Even the mostannoying Koráyos suitordoesn’t deserve such a fate.”She turned to Takis, againmeeting her gaze. “I hopeyou’ll forgive my loud talkandmytastelesshumor.”

Takis nodded. Then shepickedupherbeer. “Toyouraunt,”shesaidsomberly.

Both women lifted theirglasses and, echoing herwords,theydrank.

TheClinkofCoinsThe dried bunches of herbsthat hung from the thatchwere almost all gone by thetime winter neared its end.Ketty used a forked stick to

bring down the last one,thoughshewonderedifithadanyflavorleftinitotherthansmoke. But as she lifted itfrom its hook, another itemwas revealed behind it. Itlooked to be a small pouch,hangingfromitsdrawstring.

Putting the bundle ofherbs aside on the table, sheusedherforkedstickagain,tofetch the pouch. It washeavier than she expected.Full of curiosity, she took it

in her hand, and at once sheheard the clink of coins. Sheput down the stick andhurriedtothedoor.

It was a gloomy day,with frost still crunching onthe ground, but it was lightenoughthatshecouldseethesparkle of gold and silverwhen she peered into thepouch. She forgot to breatheas she poked her fingers atthe coins. There were manydifferent sizes and colors,

most that she’d never seenbefore. But she’d seen asilvertarlingonce,oneofthewedding gifts when hercousin was married. Thatalonehadbeenenoughtobuya new plough horse, and shesawatleasttwosilvertarlingsin the pouch, and they werenotthegrandestcoins.

“Ah, Smoke,” shebreathedinwonder.“Youdidnottellmewewererich.”

She ran across the meadowandthroughthewoods,tothelittle clearing where Smokewas scraping a deer hide.“Oh,youfoundthepurse,”hesaid when she showed thepouchtohim.“IforgotIhadthat.”

“You forgot?” sheasked,incredulous.

He shrugged. “It’s notmuchuse.”

“Not much use? Butthinkwhatwecouldbuywith

thismuchmoney!”He looked at her as if

she’d gone batty. “The berrybushes won’t trade fruit forsilver,Ketty. The deerwon’tgiveuptheirhidesforgold.”

“Smoke, youknowwhatI mean. We could go toNefión—”

“No.”“Andbuyallthe—”“No.”“Even make a new life

—”

“No! Our life is here.Everything we need is here.Our baby will be born here,and she’ll be safe here withusandnooneelse.”

“Smoke, we can’t stayhereforeveralone!”

“Yes, we can. And wewill.”

“Then what are wegoing to do with thismoney?” she asked inexasperation.

“I don’t care. Throw it

away. Throw it in the brook—”

“Areyoucrazy?”“Becausetherewillonly

be trouble if we go toNefión.”

“Trouble?”She held thepouchclosetoherchest,asifsomeone might steal it.“What kind of trouble? Areyouafraidmyfatherwillfindme?”

“I’m not afraid of yourfather.”

“But you’re afraid ofsomething. That’s why welivehere,isn’tit?Sofarfromanywhere.You’rehidingandhoping trouble won’t findyou.”

He didn’t answer, justwentonscrapingthehide.

“Sowe hide here in theWildWood,richwithmoneywecan’tspend!”

He spoke withoutlooking up, his voice soleaden with anger it didn’t

soundlikehisown.“Whatdoyouwant tobuy,Ketty?Tellme,andI’ll layinwaitalongthe forest road and murderevery traveler that passesuntil I’ve collectedwhat youneed.”

She backed off a step.“Don’tspeaktomeso.”

Smokelookedupather,hisemeraldeyesgleaming.“Iwilldoit.It’snothingtome.”

She took another stepback, speaking softly. “Don’t

talk so, and I don’t believeyouanyway.”

“But why not? Youshould.”

“Smoke, please. Justlistentome—”

His temper snapped.Hethrewdownthebonescraper.“I won’t, Ketty! I won’tlisten.” She quailed at theviolence in his voice. Shehadn’t seen him so angrysince the day they’d met,when she’d rejected him as

a “bloody-handed servant ofthe Bidden.” And then whenhe saw her fear, he grewangrier still. “Your mothernamedyouright,KettyoftheRed Moon. You must havebeenborntoargue.”

“I’m sorry,” shewhispered.

He stooped to pick upthe scraper again, his faceflushed and dark. “Just go.Go, before I—” He bit offwhatever he had meant to

say. “This hide is to be adressforyou.Soleavemetowork in peace, or scrape ityourself.”

Shetookthepursebacktothecottage and hung it againfromtherafter,butitweighedon her mind. As the dayspassed and spring brightenedthe forest, she would oftentake it down, spilling the

coins out on the table andsortingthem,examiningeachonebeforehangingthepouchagainonthehook.

“Where did you get allthose coins, anyway?” sheasked Smoke one evening asthey sat together by thehearth. “Was it your pay,when you were a Koráyoswarrior?”

“No.We took coins offthose we killed in battle. Itwas a game, to see who

wound up with the most. Iwon often, because I killedmoremen,andIalwaystriedtokillofficers.”

Shestaredathim,unsureifshebelievedhim.Aftershethought on it awhile shedecidedshedidnot,knowingshe’dbehappierthatway.

And still she could not stopthinkingaboutthecoins.

Thesnowhadlongsincemelted and the forest turnedlush and green in the spring,butKettywasnotcontent.Allthat day she’d wandered theforestwithSmokewhiletheyforaged together for fungusand roots. It seemed toKettytheyhadwalkedformilesandmiles. In the midafternoonshe sighed and pressed herhand against her growingbelly. “We’ve gone so fartoday!Havewecomealmost

totheforestroad?”Smoke’s smile and the

glint in his eyes told her shehadsaidsomethingfoolish.

“What?”He grinned. “Your head

is always turned around.Don’tyouknowwe’vecomeinawidecircle?”Hepointedinadirectionthatsheguessedwaseast.“Ourhomeisthere,maybehalfamileaway.”

She was annoyed withherself. “Why am I always

lost?”Smoke laughed. “At

least I know you’ll never beabletorunawaytoNefión.”

Ketty looked at him insurprise. Nefión was aforbidden subject, buthehadbrought it up. She wasn’tgoingtoletherhurtpridegetinthewayofquestioninghimfurther. “How far do youthinkit is toNefiónanyway?Twiceasfaraswe’vewalkedtoday?”

“You’renotgoing.”“But it would be fun if

wewent together.There’snohurry. We could walk tenmiles a day. Wouldn’t it benice to buy some flour? It’sbeen so long since I’ve hadbread! And if we stayed anight or two we might evenhearmusic,orstorytelling.”

He didn’t answer. Hedidn’t evenget angry, so shewas fairly sure he wasn’tlistening. She prattled on

anyway. “I’d so love tohaveanicemeasureof cloth for asummer dress.” She strokedthe doeskin shift she hadsewnforherself,smoothingitwhere it draped over herbelly. “This is fine leather,butit’ssohot.”

He caught her hand, hiseyesglitteringemeraldgreen.“You can run naked. Iwouldn’tmind.”

Ketty gasped in shock.“Is that what you think of

me? That I’m such a poor,stupid girl I should not evenhaveclothes?”

Smoke’s teeth flashedwhite ashegrinned,his eyeshalf-closed.

“You’re imagining it,aren’tyou?”Kettydemanded,outraged.

“Why shouldn’t I?” Hetugged her into the circle ofhisarms,spinningheraroundso that her backwas pressedagainst his chest and his

hands were suddenlyexploring her breasts and thecurve of her belly.He spokeintoherear, sendinga shiverrunning throughher.“You’rebeautiful with clothes orwithout, and your voice ismore beautiful than anyminstrel’s, and if it’s storiesyouwant,Iknowmany.”

Shestiffenedinsurprise.“You do? But you never tellmestories!”

He kissed her cheek.

“Moststoriesaresad,andI’mnotsad.I’mhappy.”

“I’ll be happy if we gotoNefión.”

“You’renotgoing.”“Smoke—”“I’llgoforyou.”She gasped, wondering

ifshe’dheardhimwrong.“You look funny with

your mouth in such a round‘O’—but then I can thinkwhatwouldfitwellinsideit.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can!

But—you’reonlyteasingme,aren’t you? You don’t reallymeantogo.”

“Alongrainiscoming,”Smokesaid.“It’sagoodtimetogo.Tellmewhatyouwantand I’ll buy it for you andbringitback.”

“But why have youchangedyourmind?”

Hekissedher.“Okay, then . . . but

you’ll go without murderinganyone?”

He kissed her again.“NotifIdon’thaveto.”

Kettywassoexcitedshesquealed. She broke free ofhis arms and danced in acircle,madewildly, absurdlyhappy by the thought ofeating bread again andwearinganewdress.

~

TbordersofthePuzzleLandsarewellprotected.We’vesufferednoinvaderssinceKoráyfirstsetherancientdefensesinplace.It’swithinour

bordersthatwe’revulnerable.Onceinsideourdefenses,agoodspycouldgoalongwaywithoutattractingnotice.Intheendoursecurityreliesonthe

alertnessandloyaltyoftheKoráyospeople.

NothingtoLoseAsdawn’slightcreptintothenarrow canyon, Nedgalvinlay curled on a wedge ofrock, his body bruised,

fingers scabbed, kneesskinned, one eye swollenalmost shut, and feeling ascold as the world’s last day.He was only twenty feetabove the top of the debrisfield that filled the canyonfloor.He lookedoutacrossajumble of broken rock,broken trees, broken horses,brokenmen. . . thoughtherewere mercifully few of hismentobeseen.Hepickedoutaswollengrayhandreaching

skyward, a twisted leg thrustsidewaysfromtherocks,andone man buried to hisshoulders, staring at theheavens,madeintoastrangerby the dust that coated hiscrushedface.Butthatwasall.Two hundredmen had comeinto the canyon. Nedgalvinwanted to believe some hadescaped,butthedebrislookedto be ten-feet deep and heknew most of them—maybeall—werecrushedandburied

forever under the slide.He’donly livedbecausehe’dbeenable to scramble up thenarrow headwall. Thelandslide had come from thecanyon’s west side. It hadswept away the trees there,leavingalivid,whitescar.

“God curse the Biddenwitch!”he shouted,hisvoiceechoingdownthecanyon,butno onewas left alive to hearhim. In a softer voice headded, “And God curse me

for believing I could beather.”

He thought about tryingto make his way back downthegorge,findthetrailagain,and escape to the south, butthe Koráyos kept a sharpwatchontheirbordersandhesuspectedtheoddswerelongagainsthim.

Afteratimehebegantowonder why they’d left himalive.

Surelytheyknewhewas

here?Ordidthey?Coulditbepossiblehe’d

come so far into themountains that he’d passedwithin their magic veils? Ifso, it might be possible tomakehiswaydeeperintothePuzzle Lands and there findsomemeans to avenge thosewhohaddiedintherocks.

Aheavy fogcrawledupthe canyon, hiding thelandslidefromhiseyes.

He eased himself overontohisback,andlookedup.The cliff above him wasnearly vertical, but the stonewas stacked in rough layersthat left pocketswhere brushand stunted trees had takenroot. He figured he couldclimb it, though fog hid thesummit so he didn’t knowhow far he’d have to go. Itdidn’tmatter though.Hehadnothinglefttolose.

He climbed for half an hourbeforereachingthetopofthevertical cliff. After that theslope eased and he was ableto walk. The fog wasimpenetrable, but he madesure to always go uphill. Itwasn’t easy. The forest wasthick with deadfall anddespite the cold he wassweating with the effort ofscramblingover fallen trunksandrottenbranches.

After a time he heard

voices from up ahead. Hedropped to the ground. Thevoices drew nearer. Twomen, maybe three. But thesound was distorted by thefog. He couldn’t understandwhattheyweresaying.

With all the deadfall onthe ground it was impossibletogo insilence,sohestayedwhere he was, while thevoices grew louder. Theydidn’tspeakallthetime.Oneman would say something,

then several minutes passedbefore another spoke.Nedgalvin still couldn’tunderstand them, and after awhile he realized he’d heardnosoundatalloffootstepsorcracking twigs. That’s whenheknewhe’dbeentricked.

Damn the Bidden andtheirHaunténmagic!

Nedgalvin abandonedhis hiding place and pushedon. The voices immediatelygrew louder. They shouted

garbled threats through thefog. Nedgalvin’s hair stoodonendwithawitchyfear,buthe went on anyway, andeventually he left the voicesbehind.

TheBiddenhadsomanytricks. They even had aHauntén who fought forthem. Dismay. The stupidwomen of the borderlandscalledhimagod,buthewasjust a mad Hauntén.Nedgalvin regretted deeply

not killing the little bastard.How Dismay had survivedthe wound Nedgalvin hadgivenhim,hecouldn’tguess,butsurvivehehad,forafterarespite the creature returnedto the borderlands, morebloodyhanded thanever . . .although he’d disappearedagainafterthat.Ithadbeenalong while since anyonereported seeing him. MaybeDismay had finally beenkilledafterall.

Nedgalvin found atrickle of spring water anddrank from it. Soon after, hereached the summit. Hestepped over a broken spineof rocks and then the slopebegantodescend.

Itwaseasierwalkingonthenorthside.Therewaslessdeadfall,butitsabsencemadehim suspicious that peoplecameheretogatherfirewood.So he went cautiously,pausing every few steps to

listen. Before long, he heardthe bleating of sheep. Thenthe fog thinned and soon hesaw a gleam of brightdaylightbelowhim.

The forest endedabruptly, yielding to a half-mileofgreenpasturestuddedwithblacksheep.At the footof the pasture was an oldstonefortwitharoadrunningfrom it down into thelowlands.

Nedgalvin studied the

fort for several minutes.Though roofed watch postsstoodat each squaredcorner,he could see only one sentryatdutyonthewallsandnoneat the gate, though it stoodwide open, facing the emptyroad.Afteratime,Nedgalvinretreatedintothetrees.

His plan was simple.When night came he wouldcross the pasture. The fortwas sparsely guarded. He’dgetpastwhateverwatchthere

was and get inside. If hecould, he’d find Takis.Otherwise, he’d do whateverdamage he could managebefore the Koráyos broughthimdown.Itwasn’tmuchofa plan, but itwas better thanstaying in the forest anddyingofthecold.

He found a hollow,cushioned in pine needles,and there he curled up towait. The fog drifted lower.Theairwasfretfullycoldand

soon it started to rain.Perhaps it was his shiveringthat attracted the dog. Helookedupwhenitgrowledathim. It stood several feetaway:alarge,whitesheepdogwearing a spiked collar toprotect it from wolves.Nedgalvinhadhisbowonhisback.Heconsideredshootingit. But he could see thiswasnowardog. Itwas trained toguard against wolves, notenemysoldiers.Sohedrewa

bit of dried beef from theration bag at his hip andofferedittothedog.Afteranindecisive minute, it creptclose enough to snatch themorsel. Nedgalvin fed it asecond bite, and on the thirdhe was able to stroke it,talkingtoitinasoftvoice.

He removed thedrawstring cord from hisration bag and tied it to thedog’scollar.Thenhemadeitlie down, and it kept him

warm through the long, coldtwilight.

He waited for full darkness.Then he got up, checked hisweapons by feel and, takingthe dog’s makeshift leash inhand, he set out. Rain wasstillfallingandthenightwasso dark Nedgalvin could seenothing of where he waswalking,butthedogknewits

way. It led him across thepasture. He slipped andstumbled and fell downseveral times. His handsreeked of sheep shit. But atleast the sentry on the wallcouldn’tseehim,orhearhimoverthefallingrain.

Thenthedogstopped.Itpanted in excitement, its tailthumping against his legs.Suddenly, two more largesheep dogs were scurryingaround them. One growled,

but Nedgalvin stood quietly,and after a minute he urgedhisdogon.

Itwasn’tlongbeforethesoundoftheraingrewlouder,sharper—the sound of rainagainst stonewalls. He kneltto untie the leash. Then hesent the dog off with itscompanions. After that hecrawledthroughthegrass.

His hands were icy,achingwith cold by the timehefoundthefort’sstonewall.

He listened for severalminutes, but he couldn’tmake out the tread of thesentry over the rain—and hehoped the sentry couldn’thearhim.Hestoodupandsetoff around the fort, onehandalwayson the stonewall.Hewent slowly. It took half anhourtoreachthegate.

The gatewas still open,justas ithadbeen in thedaytime. He shook his head indisgust.Hewouldneverhave

allowed such lax security.The Koráyos wereoverconfident.

Moving with utmostcaution, taking care to makeno sound, he slipped in pastthe gate. Then he duckedbackagainstthewall.

Across the open yard, abar of light leaked frombeneathadoor.Therewasnoother illumination, nothingelsethathecouldsee.

He started toward the

door. He was halfway therewhenheheardthegateswingshutbehindhim,closingwithathud.

Hishandwenttothehiltof his sword, but he didn’tdrawit.Heturnedaround.Ashedid,fourtorches,setundershelters at the corners of theyard, flamed to life. Heflinched in shock—and thenthe hair on the back of hisneck stoodup.Therewas noone in the yard, no onewho

couldhavelitthetorches.Butthe torchlight picked out thesilhouettes of two archers onthewallabovethegate.Theirbows were drawn, arrowsaimedathim.

Curse the Koráyos andtheirHaunténmagic!

A tap of wood againststone made him turn again.Though no one tended thetorches, he discovered hewasn’t entirely alone in theyard after all. Standing in

front of the lighted doorwasa tall man, well muscled,clearly a soldier though hewas dressed simply in tunicandbritches.Hewasunarmedexcept for a long woodenstaff. Nedgalvin thought hesaw a flicker of recognitionand surprise in the otherman’s eyes, but in thedancingtorchlightitwashardtobesure.

From the wall behindhimoneofthearchersspoke.

She was a soft-voiced girl,withthetimorousaccentofasouthern woman. “ChieftainHelvero,helooksLutawantome.”

Thesoldieratthedoor—Helvero?—cocked his headas if giving this possibilitydue consideration. Then hespoketoNedgalvin.“DidyouknowKoráyusedtolivehereat Fort Veshitan with herchildren? This outpost ishauntedwithprotectivespells

thatnoonetodayevenknowshowtomake.That’swhywehouse your southern womenhere.Nowheresafer.”

Nedgalvin silentlycursedhimselfforthinkingoftheKoráyosasordinaryfoes.But he still saw one chanceremaining tohim.Takinghishand away from his sword’shilt, he straightened hisshoulders and said, “I’vecometoseeTakis.”

Helvero nodded as if

he’d expected this. “You’vemissed her. She departed forthenorthnotfivehoursago.”

And still Helvero madeno move against him. Whatwasheplayingat?Nedgalvinsensed an undercurrent, buthe couldn’t guess its nature.He was only sure that withTakis gone, this night wouldnot end well for him. TheKoráyosdidn’ttakeprisonersand they didn’t sell backhostages as any civilized

peoplewoulddo.Soitwouldbeonly amatterofmomentsbefore Helvero ordered thearcherstofire.

Nedgalvin decided hewouldnotdiealone.Helvero,atleast,wouldgowithhim.

Hesethisfeetincarefulbalance. He’d practiced thetrick of throwing his swordeversincehe’dheardthefirsttales of Dismay. That sametrickwouldservehimnow.

Moving with speed and

precisionheseizedthehiltofhis sword and swept it fromitsscabbard.Thenhesteppedforwardtoflingit—butashedid a searing pain shotthroughhispalmandwithoutconsciousthoughtheletgoofthehilt.

The blade clattered tothe yard’s stone floor.Nedgalvin’smouthopenedinastonishment when he sawthehiltglowingcherryredinthe night, as if it had just

come from the forge. Hispalmwasblistered.

Helvero said, “I heardhowatricklikethatwasusedonSmoke.”

With his uninjured handNedgalvin grabbed for hislong knife, but as the bladecleared the sheath it toobecame red hot and he wasforced to drop it beside thesword. He reached for hisbow.

Helvero picked that

moment to come after himwith the staff. Nedgalvindodgedhisfirstthrust,butthesecond caught him high onthe shoulder, unbalancinghimlongenoughforHelverotoconnectashort,hardswingtothesideofhishead.

He woke later in a lightlessroom,andthrewup.

~

NliesbeyondtheborderofthePuzzleLandsandbeyondthereachoftheLutawanking.

It’stheonlylargesettlementwithintheWildWood.Thekingtriedtotakeitonce,afterhissoldierswerepushedoutofthePuzzleLands.ButtheHaunténdon’twantan

empireontheirdoorstep.Astheking’sarmymarchednorthtowardtheforestroadtheywalkedstraightintoastormfiercerthananytheyhadmetbefore.Suchadelugeofrainfellthatmen

andhorseswerewashedaway,theroaddisappeared,andtheshapeofthelandwaschanged.TheLutawankinghasfocusedhisanimositiesonus,sincethen.

NefiónSeökhadservedelevenyearsas a Koráyos soldier, beforeresigningtomarryhissecondcousin.Inthetwoyearssince,he’dworkedforherfatherasa teamster, driving amerchantwagonona regularcircuit fromBraidedRiver inthe southeast corner of thePuzzle Lands, over themountainsoftheEastTangletoNefión,northontheforest

roadtoBinthysheepcountry,andsouthagaintoSamerhen.

He smelled rain comingashedrovehiswagoneasttoNefión. Ignoring the lowingprotestsofhisoxen,heforcedthemonpastdusk.The rainsbegan as he crossed the lastbridge. The sparse nightwatchwavedhimon into thecity. His sister’s householdwas asleep when he rolledintotheyard,but thebarkingdogs put an end to that,

waking the hired boy first,who slept in the stable, andthen rousing Yelena and herhusband.

Yelena bubbled overwith joy to see him. “Seök!Praise Koráy, the DreadHammer, and the Trenchant!Ismelledtheraincomingandfeared youwould be trappedinamire.”

“Thatwasmy fear too,”Seök confessed. “Better tocomelateatnightthannotat

all.”Together they stabled

theoxen, secured thewagon,andthenrewardedthemselveswith a late-night feast and around of gossip. Yelenaeventually declared that theyall must rest, for there waswork to be done tomorrow.Shesentthehiredboybacktothe stable and with herhusband she retired to bed.The other upstairs roomswere full of a tribe of small

children, so Seök did as hewas accustomed to do, andlaidouthisbedroll in a cozynook among the trade goodson the floor of his sister’smercantile.

Bythetimehelaydownto sleep the rain wasthundering against the roof.He offered up a prayer ofthanks that it was notpounding down against hisunsheltered head, and heslipped away into slumber.

Yet he woke again beforelong,disturbedbyadreamhecouldnotrecall.Afterthathissleep was uneasy, and eachtime he closed his eyes itseemed to him a faint spiritvoice whispered to him tobeware. So he was half-awake when Yelena’sfootsteps creaked lightlyacross the floor above. Allwas still dark inside themercantile, but Seök sensedthat dawn was not far off.

Shivering, he pulled hisblanketcloseraroundhim.

Pride had finally persuadedSmoke to change his mindabout the journey to Nefión.Kettyhadstartedtolooklikea ragged waif. The fewclothes she’d brought withher from her father’s housewere spoiled with wear andmade nearly useless by her

expanding belly. The dressshe’dstitchedfromadeerskinwasprettyenough,butitwasonly one, and it was heavyand hot. She was his wife!Andhe’dgrownupwithfinethings. So he resolved to dobetterbyher.

Even so, he didn’tabandonallcaution.

He waited for theapproachofagreatrainspirit;heweigheditspresenceintheweft until he was sure it

would claim all of the skyfrom the north where theBinthy shepherd tribes lived,to the far south beyond themerchant city of Nefión. HetoldKettyhewouldbegoinginthemorning.

That evening, there wasonlyafinemistfallingontheforest, but when he arosethree hours before dawn, inthe coal-lit darkness of thecottage, the rain was rattlingthethatchroof.

The glimmering hearthspirit watched him as hedressed. Last of all he slunghis sword over his back.Ketty was still sleeping. Hespentamomentadmiringher.“Watch over her,” hewhisperedtothehearthspirit.Then he pulled the hood ofhis coat up over his head,tuggingitlowsohisfacewasa shadow enlivened only byglitteringeyes.

That part of himself he

called a man, the part Kettysawandcouldtouchandlove—intruththatpartwasonlyareflectionofaspiritthatlivedamong the threads.When hesethissoultoglidealongtheweft,hisreflectionwaslostinthe speed of his passage. Tothe watching hearth spirit itseemed that, in a swirl ofconfusion,hedissolvedintoacolumn of scentless graysmoke that sped awaythroughthewall,thoughthere

wasnowindtodriveitforth.Much later, he came to

Nefión.Dawnhadcome, though

it had not yet found a waypast the storm clouds. Raindrummed in the muddystreets,hissed in thegardens,and rumbled against theroofs. Most of the housesweredark,butlampswerelitin a few merchant shopswhere new shipments werewaiting to be tallied and

sorted.Smoke stood at a street

corner, listening to thethreads. Nefión was the hublinking both the LutawanKingdom and the PuzzleLands to the forest road, andmanymerchant families keptcompounds there. At first heheard only inconsequentialsounds: the soft song of amother soothing her infant,the faint murmur of lovers,the restrained cries of a

woman in labor and thewhispering of her midwife’sencouragements.Thenafterafew minutes he heard thevoice of a woman countingaloud as she measured boltsof silk fabric. Smokefollowedthesoundofit,untilhe stood outside a sturdy,two-story house built ofdressed stone. A signidentified Yelena’smercantile. The gleam of anoil lamp shone through the

window’sfrostedglass.Smoke didn’t bother to

knock. He slipped into theworld-beneath and amomentlater he was inside a largeroom stacked full of bolts ofcloth, bags of grain, leathergoods, and iron works. Acounter bisected the store,separatingfrontfromback.Awoman stood at the counter,working by the light of athree-candlechandelierasshemeasured the yardage of

somelovelybluesilk.It was the sound of

rainwater dripping fromSmoke’s coat that made herlookup.

Still half-asleep, his eyessqueezed shut against thecandlelight, Seök listened tohis sister’s voice softlycounting aloud as shemeasuredandcutanorderof

silk fabric. Rain stillhammereddown,andhesentanother prayer of thanks toKoráy and the DreadHammer.

Thenanewsoundcametohim,ofwaterdripping.Notadistantpatteringdripofrainfalling from the eaves, butsomething much closer thatmadeasharptick-tick.

Heopenedhiseyes.From where he lay, he

couldjustseepast theendof

the counter. He could seeYelena’s shadow at thecounter’s other end, andhalfway between the counterand the door there stood thefigure of a man, withrainwater dripping from thehem and hood of his longleathercoat.

Itwasnosurprise thatamanshouldcomeindrippingon a morning like this one,buthowthismanhadcomeinat all was a mystery Seök

could not explain, given thathehad lockedandbarred thedoorhimselflastnight.

Two years on the roadhad enforced the cautionSeökhadlearnedasasoldier.So he stirred not at all,feigningsleepasheeyed thephantomvisitor.

The stranger was tall,but lightly built. His hoodwas pulled lowover his facesoSeökcould seenothingofhis features except for the

glitterofhiseyes.Withinthelightless shadowofhishood,the stranger’s eyes sparkledfaintly green with their ownlight...asnoman’sshould.

Seök bit hard on his lipto keep from crying out, butsurelythisstrangercouldhearthehammeringofhisheart?

“Oh, hello, sir!” hissister Yelena exclaimed. “Ididn’t hear you come in.Welcome, welcome—thoughit’s early, no?” She caught

her breath. “Ah, sir! You’reone of the Hauntén. Youhonor me! What service doyou seek on this darkmorning?”

Thestranger laughed—awarm laugh, full of humor—yet it chilled Seök’s heart.Fear flooded him, madeworse when words followed.“I’vecometobuyprettysilksand soft flannels, and warmwoolen cloth and a sack offlour.”

Seökdidnotneedtoseethis stranger’s face.HeknewSmoke’s laugh, his voice.How could he forget? He’dencounteredtheBiddenyouthonly once, but the memorywould haunt him for as longashewalkedintheworld.

It had been two yearsago, just before he’d left thearmy. All that summer warraged throughout theborderlands. It was Seök’stask to lead a small and

stealthy company of archersin ambush against thesoutherner’s supply wagons.Late on a broilingmidsummer morning, withthe weather so hot and drySeök had feared the woodswould spontaneously catchfire and burn, his companyheard from afar the screamsofwomenandchildren.Theyrodeafterthesound,thinkingto come in stealth on acompanyoftheenemy,butit

was Smoke they discovered.His sword was bloody andthough he was on foot, hemoved with uncanny speed.Every inhabitant of thevillage was cut down by hisonslaught.Not just the smallcompanyofLutawansoldiersgarrisoned there, but everywoman and every child,hacked into bloody ruin.Seök’stroopshadcriedoutinbitter protest, but anotherKoráyos companywas there,

under the command of achieftainwho forbadeSeök’smentointerfere.

Smoke had been butsixteen that summer, his firstseasononthebattlefield.

When the slaughter wasdone, the village livestockwas taken for the use of thearmy, and the bodies wereburnedalongwiththehouses.Afterward,SeökhadwatchedSmokeashecrouchedbesidea stream to wash the blood

offhisfaceandhands.Smokewas one of the Bidden, theTrenchant’sownson,andhisdemon eyes had burnedbright green with rage. Hehad noticed Seök watchinghim, and he said to him in alow growl, “Don’t think Ienjoyed this day.” But laterthatafternoonSmokelaughedandchattedwiththemenasifthe slaughter had neverhappened.

Seök had never seen

Smoke again, but he knewthat sometime later SmokehadvanishedfromthePuzzleLands. It was rumored he’dfled his father’s harshcommand.Itwaswellknownthat the Trenchant wantedhim back. Dehan hadcommanded the Koráyospeople to report at once anyword of Smoke’swhereabouts. But if Smokedidnotwant sucha report tobemade?

Seök didn’t doubtSmoke would slaughtereveryone in this house if hesuspected he’d beenrecognized. So Seök heldhimself in utter stillness,hoping he would not benoticedatall.

Smoke went to thecounter and emptied a coinsack onto it. Yelena leanedforward,countingthetreasurewith her eyes. When shelooked up again, she smiled

brightly, and for the nextseveral minutes she helpedSmoke choose several stylesoffabric.Yelenadidnotfearthemonster.Whyshouldshe?She believed him to beHauntén, and in Nefión theforest spirits were said tobring blessings to those whohonored them. “Have you asatchel for your purchases,sir?”sheaskedhim.“OrshallIfindyouone?”

Smoke agreed that he

needed a bag, so she packedallhispurchasesintoaratherfine, waterproof satchel, andthen she counted out aselection of coins, returningthe rest to the coin sackbefore handing it back to itsowner.Hersmilewasradiant.“Will you speak a blessingovermystorebeforeyougo,goodsir?”

Smoke answered with alaughthatchilledSeöktothebone.“It’smyroletodeliver

curses,notblessings,ma’am.Asknofavorsofme.”

Withthesatcheloverhisshoulder he turned to go,thoughhewas forced to stopandunboltthedoorbeforehecould open it. He steppedoutside,disappearing into therain.

TheMidwifeSmoke laughed aloud as therain pounded down on him.Ah, but this venture wasgoing well indeed! But then,his plan was exquisite. Thetorrential rain had turned thestreetintoabogofslickmudand driven everyone to

shelter.Noonewasabout,sono one would see his face,and even if they did, no oneherewouldknowhim.

Given how much he’dfeared venturing intoNefión,it was funny to discover theriskwas slight after all—andfully worth it to make Kettyhappy.

Ketty.His laughter died as he

consideredhercondition.Shewouldhaveachild....

He didn’t like to thinkaboutit.Yethecouldn’tstopthinking about it, and everytimehedid a nasty cold fearstirredinhisbelly.Hefearedthe birth. He dreaded it. Hisown mother had died givingbirthtohim.

Kettywouldnotdie.Hewas resolved to it—whichwas the other reason he’dcome to Nefión. Again helistened to the threads, andbefore long he overheard a

woman’swhisperedprayerofthanks as she held a newlyborninfantagainstherbreast.The threads wound togetherthen parted again as themidwife drew on her cloakandhood, slippedquietlyoutof the house, and set offthroughtherain.

Shewalkedalone.Smoke tracked her

through the threads, until hesawhercloakedfigure in thestreetahead.Shewalkedwith

her head bowed against thedeluge, but she walkedsteadily, rarely slippingdespitethemud.

He followed at adistance.

Beforelongshecametotheedgeoftown,followingapathintotheforestthatsetoffnortheast between the trees.Somesympatheticspiritmusthavewhispered awarning toherbecause after a few stepsshe turned about. Her hood

fell back from her face,revealing a woman oldenough to be a mother ofmore than one, and youngenoughtobecomethemotherof many more. She waslovely without beingbeautiful, in the way ofstrong, stern things. “Stop,creature!” she commandedhim.

Smoke felt himselfstopped in his tracks.Literally. Stopped. As if his

limbs were frozen. “Notagain,”hemuttered.Itwassoannoying to be bidden by awoman’s prayers when hehadotherthingsinmind.

“Speak! What do youmean by stalkingme on thisdrearymorning?”

Smoke laughed aloud atthe irony of his situation: abloody-handed warrior ofKoráyos,undonebythesterncommand of a wise woman.She had no fear of him, he

decided.Thatwas the reasonherwillwassostrong.“Iwillspeak. I’ve come to learnyourskills.”

“The skills of a healer?You?”

“No.Onlytheskillsofamidwife.”

Thisstatementbroughtalook of astonishment to herface, though he wasn’t surewhy.Thedoingsofpeoplesooftenconfusedhim.

“This is not a man’s

knowledge,” she said testily.Her eyes narrowed. “Butyou’renotaman,areyou?”

Smoke laughed again.Must everyone misconstrueit?

“You want to deny it,”she said, “but your eyesglitterliketheeyesofaforestspirit. I can see them thoughyour face is hidden by theshadowofyourhood.”

Smoke scowled. Whywas he cursed with such

eyes? The Trenchant’s eyesdidn’t glitter.Neither did theeyesofhissisters.

“Come with me,” themidwife commanded. Shepulled her hood back up andset off again along thefootpath.

Smokefelt free tomoveagain;hetrottedeagerlyafterher. “Will you teach methen?”heaskedashecaughtup.

She raised her head to

lookathim.“Awomanneedsnohelptogivebirth.Didyouknowthat?Unlesssomethinggoes awry . . . and ifsomething goes awry, thensometimesthere’snothingthemidwifemaydo.”

“Nothingmustgoawry,”hewarnedher.

“You’re one of theBidden,aren’tyou?”

Smoke stopped.Stepping back, he pulled hissword,raisingittostrike.

“Stop,”shesaidsoftly.His arm froze. He

grimaced in frustration. “Iwillkillyou.”Hisfurywassohotitheatedhisswordsothatitsteamedintherain.

“You are theTrenchant’s son, who wasnamedSmokebyhissisters.”

“You will not live tospeak that knowledge toanother.”Still,hisarmwouldnotobeyhiswill.

“Have you fathered a

child,Smoke?”He didn’t mean to

answer, but to his frustrationhe discovered himselfnodding.

“Come with me then,cruelspirit.”

Once again she set off,andSmokefollowed,helplesstodootherwise.

She took him to a small

cottage in a wide clearingwhere a garden grew.A fewsteps from the front door ariver ran fat andmuddywiththe rain. Its torrent lapped atthe plank floor of a slenderrope bridge that crossed intothedeepsoftheWildWood.

Withinthecottagewasasingle room with a hearth, asmallbed,manycabinets,anda large table where threeleather-bound books resided,allofthemlookingwellused.

Bouquets of drying herbshung from the rafters, andsmall clay pots sat on highshelves. Smoke smelledashes, herbs, flowers, andsubstances he could notname, but it was a pleasantconfusionofscent.

“Take off your muddybootsandhangupyourcoat,”the midwife commanded ashe followed her in throughthe door. Smoke’s anger hadcooled,andwithitsfadinghe

feltaneasinginthetensionofthethreadsthatboundhimtoher will. The threat of hispresence was slowly erodingher courage and he feltcertainshewouldnotbeableto hold himmuch longer, sofornowhewascontenttodoas she requested.Hekepthisswordinhishandthough.

As themidwife knelt toprepare the fire, he invitedhimself to sit down in thechair thatkeptcompanywith

the table. He laid his swordon the table beside him andthenheopenedthefirstbook.Itwasanherblore.Heturnedthepages,admiringthefinelydetailed drawings of leavesand flowers, and readingquickly through theinscriptions.

Themidwifeaskedhim,“Do you know what theKoráyos people say aboutyou?”

Smoke snorted his

amusement. He knew whatthey should say. Looking upfrom the herb lore he said,“That I am the deadliest ofwarriors.Thatnocompany—and certainly no man!—canstandagainstme.”

Shesmiledasshestrucka flint.Thespark leaped toatuftofdrygrass,andthentoahandful of twigs. “They sayyou deserted your duty, thatyou abandoned the war, thatyou ran away from the

obligation you owe to yourpeopleandtoyourfather.”

The fire bustled, tastingthekindling.Smokeshivered.He always knew when aperson lied to him; thiswomanspokethetruth.

“Did you do thesethings?”sheasked.

“Yes.”She warmed her hands

beside the flames. Then shearose. “Turn your eyes againto the book while I change

intodrythings.”Smoke did as he was

told,turningthepagesslowlywhile cloth rustled behindhim.Afterafewminutes,shespoke again. “Do you knowwhytheBiddenexist?”

Smoke had reached thelast page of the book, so heset it aside and took up thenext one. “Everyone knowsthat. We were bidden toprotect the people of thePuzzle Lands.” This second

book was an instruction ontreating wounds, infections,andfevers.

“So it was. Long ago,the prayers of our ancestorssummoned Koráy from theforest. She taught us to bewarriors. She led us as wedrove theLutawans from thePuzzleLands.”

Themedicaltexttoowasfilled with fine and detailedillustrations, and Smokeguessed they were done by

thesamehand.Butunliketheherb lore, there was nothingof beauty about them. Theyshowed only gruesomewounds, amputations,infected tissues, rashes, andbodies starved by fevers. Heclosed the book. “TheLutawans will wound a manand leave him to die slowly,butthatisnotmypractice.”

“Perhapsit’syournaturetobemerciful?”

With an impish grin,

Smoke risked a glancearound.Themidwifehadputonasimplebrowngown.Hewatched her as she shruggedinto a cream-colored housejacket. “Are you Koráyos,then?”heasked.

“Iam.”“Andwhyareyouliving

here?”“Icametolearnfromthe

wise woman of Nefión,whose cottage this was, butshe passed from the world.

Now I serve these people inherplace.”

“I serve no one. Onlymywifehasmyallegiance—andmymercy.”

The midwife eyed himcautiously.“Youreyesareallaglitter again. You’rethinking you’ll need to killme when I’ve taught youwhatyou’vecometolearn.”

“Ihavealreadysaidthat,but know that I won’t relishit.”

“Iamcomforted.”Smoke nodded, pleased

to bestow a kindness. “Tellmenow,whatisitamidwifedoes?”

“Shedoesall shecan toseethatmotherandchildbothsurvive the labor in goodhealth.Whereisyourwife?”

“Farawayfromhereandfar from any wise woman.That’swhyI’vecometolearnfromyou.”

“You’ve hidden her

awayintheWildWood?”Smoke didn’t bother to

answer. Instead he reachedforthethirdbook.

“Not even you, Smoke,mayhaveallthatyoudesire.”

“You’re wrong. I desirenothing but what I alreadyhave.”

He opened the book. Itwasatreatiseonmidwifery.

“You desire knowledgeyou cannot possess.Not in aday,noreveninamoon.The

skillsofamidwifetakeyearstolearn.”

Smokeheardher,buthedidn’t heed her as he turnedthe pages of the treatise,rather shocked at the finedrawings of babies curledinside their mothers’ bellies,and at the other illustrations,ofawoman’ssacredgateandthe child struggling forthfrom it, head first, and thenhandfirst,andthenfoot.

“Smoke!”

He looked up at her.Something had changed. Shewasnervousnow.Hesmelledher fear; heard the swiftbeating of her heart. “Theseare your drawings, aren’tthey?”Hewonderedhowshehad contrived to see inside awoman’sbelly.

“Smoke, you cannotlearn all the skills of amidwife in a morning, or aday,oreveninamoon.Hearmyprayerandtakeyourwife

to Samerhen. Don’t risk herlifeintheWildWood.”

Smoke looked again atthebook, turningafewmorepages while new thoughtsturnedoverinhishead.

The midwife steppedcloser. She set her hand onhis shoulder. “Consider this:What will happen to thePuzzle Lands when theBidden are gone? WhenDehan the Trenchant haspassed from this life, and

your sistershavebecomeoldandfeeble?”

Smoke closed the book,a half-smile on his face. “Ihave no foresight. Fate iswhatitis.”

She shivered, but shewas not defeated yet. “TheKoráyospeoplearefierceandstrong!Ourmen andwomenboth—”

“Andwearenotgiventomercy.”

She pressed her

trembling lips together,gathering herself before shespoke again. “We are fierceand strong, but whenmeasured against theLutawan Kingdom we arefew in number. Without theBidden to tangle the threadsof our enemies and makesmooth our own we will beoverrun.Youcannotdoubtit.And yet the Bidden havealways suffered a poorfertility. It’s said your father

can’t bear the touch of anyother woman since yourmother’s passing, so he willsire no more children, whileyour sisters have beddedhundreds of young warriorsbetween them withoutconceiving any child. Theyare barren, like so many oftheBiddenbeforethem.”

Smoke shrugged. “Fateiswhatitis.”

“Onlyifwesubmittoit!Your child belongs to the

Koráyos people. You musttake your wife to Samerhenwhere she will be cared forproperly.Thisfeudwithyourfather must end. Show meyourmercy.Showourpeopleyourmercy. For if yourwifedies with this child, thePuzzle Lands will die withher.Please.Hearmyprayer.”

Smoke looked again atthe leather-bound treatise onmidwifery. “I hear yourprayer, but I cannotheed it.”

His sword still lay on thetable. He reached for it, andshestumbledback.

“No, please. Don’t! Icommand you.” She triedagain to bind him to herwordsandherwishes.Hefeltthethreadsofherwilltightenaround him, but there wasnothingmore shecouldofferhim,andshewasafraid.

She fled toward thedoor. He stepped after herand caught her on the

threshold, one hand on hershoulder as he thrust hissword into her back, throughherlung,herheart.Thepointof the blade emerged fromherbreastand thenhepulledit out again. He held heragainst him for the quickmoments she required to die.A swift death was the onlymercyhehadtooffer.

“Itakenopleasureinit,”he growled, as he laid herbody by the fire. “Though

yourbooks,theseIwilltake.”He added the books to

the satchel he’d gotten fromthemerchantinNefión.Thenhe pulled his boots on andafter that his wet coat, andlastheslunghisswordacrosshis back.He bent to pick upthesatchel.

That was when shecame.

He felt a faint vibrationin the threads and when helooked up a gray vapor was

boilingdownfromthethatch.The hair on the back of hisneck stood up. Terror swepthim.Instincttoldhimtoflee,buthehadtoknow,hehadtosee.

Awomanformedoutofthevapor,assolidashimself.She was of good height,though stoop shouldered andvery thin. Her hair was aloose tangle of black halfgone to gray. She wore aworn coat that reached her

knees,loosetrousers,andsoftboots. Her angular facelooked up at him, flushwithastonishment.“Isityou?”shewhispered, shuffling towardhim, one hand held out insupplication.“Issomepartofyoustillalive?”

Then she saw the bodyon the floor. A cry of griefescaped her and Smokereachedforthethreads.

“No! Stop!” shecommanded, and for a

moment Smoke wascompelled todo it.Anchoredin place in the little cottage,hispanickedgazemethers—andwhen he looked into hergleaming green eyes he washit with the most horriblepainhehadeverexperienced,as if his soul was tearing intwo. He squeezed his eyesshut, reached again for thethreads,andfled.

~

TBiddenaretheguardiansofthePuzzleLands,buttheKoráyospeoplerulethemselves

andfollowthejusticeoftheDreadHammer.Theyarestern,butfair.Enslavementandlongimprisonmentareforbidden,butthemercyofanexecutionisallowedfor

thosewhocan’torwon’treform.Thecruelestpunishmentisexile.ThentheBiddenarecalledonforaspelltofencethecriminalforeverfromthePuzzleLands.

MercyNedgalvin was fairly surehe’d forgotten a lot, andprobably for the better. Hecould put together only bitsand pieces of things that hadhappened since Helverocrackedhisskull,thereintheyard of Fort Veshitan. Herememberedbeingsicktohisstomachforaverylongtime.Therewas a ride in the backof a wagon. He didn’t truly

remember the wagon, onlythebumpinessoftheroad.Heremembered waking todarkness, and also to the sunblinding his eyes. Waterbeing poured into hismouth,and porridge forced past hislips.

Now he was awakeagain. Definitely, fullyawake. He knew it by thehellishpounding in his skull,andbythebrittledesertofhisthroat, which was so dry he

didn’tthinkhewouldeverbeable to swallow again, but atleasthewasawake.

Hegatheredhis strength—there wasn’t much tocollect—and sat up. It wasone of the more challengingfeats he’d ever managed inhislife.

He discovered he wassitting on a cot, with a littlebamboo table beside it. Onthe table was a tin cup andpitcher. Nedgalvin smelled

thewater.Seizingthepitcher,he drank straight from it,three swallows, untildiscipline kicked in and heforcedhimself to stop . . .orat least to slow down. Hefilled the cup and strove tosipslowly, thinking,WhyamInotdead?

Every Lutawan recruitlearned not to expect mercyfromtheKoráyos.Theywerea savage people. They nevertook prisoners. All of

Nedgalvin’s battlefieldexperienceconfirmedthis.Soit was truly a puzzle—inexplicable—that he shouldfindhimselfalive.

Theroomhewasinwastiny, only as wide as thelength of the cot but it wasstone tiled, dry, and cleanswept. A muted sunlightcameinthroughwindowslitsabove his head.Hewas gladit was muted. Given hispoundingheadache,hemight

have passed out if it werebrighter.

The light glinted on thepolished reed weave of hiscot. It looked freshlyscrubbed or freshly woven.There was a blanket thatsmelled of nothing but hisown scent, which itselfwasn’t too bad, implyingsomeone had bathed him,though he didn’t rememberthatatall.Therewasabucketin the corner which also

didn’tsmelltoobad.In truth, Nedgalvin

couldn’t remember being inaninnascleanasthisroom.

Still, there was nohandle on the closed door,just a tiny slit of a windowsome five feet above theground, which led him tobelieve he was in a prisoncell.Heforcedhimselfup.Hewalked to the door. Hepushed on it. It didn’t yield.Hegrabbedtheslitandpulled

onit,butitwouldn’topen,sohe felt validated in his beliefthatthiswasacell.

It was only natural hewas confused. He’d seen theinside of a prison once. ThatwasintheLutawanKingdomof course and he’d beenplagued by nightmares fordays afterward.Thanksbe toGodhewasn’tinaplacelikethat.

He sat down again anddrankmorewater.

A sharp snick broughtNedgalvinawakeagain.He’dnodded off sitting up. Hisheadache had eased, whichwas good since the sunlightfrom the window slits hadbrightened. Someone wastaking advantage of the lighttostudyhimthroughthelittlespyholeinthedoor.

An old man’s voicespoke, sounding muffled.“Ah,soyou’refinallycomingaround. I had my doubts.

Well? Can you talk? Orwasyour head cracked so hardthat Tayval’s silence hasinfectedyou?”

Nedgalvin scowled atthe oldman’smocking tone.Hestooduptohisfullheight.“Where am I? What is thisplace?”

“It’s true,” the old mansaid, sounding impressed.“Youevenhavetheaccent.”

“Whataccent?”“A southerner’s accent!

Doyourememberanyofit?”“Ofwhat?”“The drinking, the

fighting,thewomanyouhurt.Helvero sent you here. Hesaid your head got cracked,though why you’d want toimagine you were somethingas odious as a Lutawanofficer,Idon’tknow.Mustbeyou feel guilty about thatwomanyou—”

Nedgalvin leaned downto peer through the spy hole.

The old man drew back insurprise. He was short, orshrunken with years, but hisshoulderswerebroadandhishands looked strong.Ominously,hecarriedbothacudgelandacoiledwhiponastiffbeltathiswaist.

He was standing in anarrowhallway,andthoughitwasdimly lit, it looked tobeas clean as the cell. Behindthe oldmanwas the door ofanothercell.

“Is Helvero here?”Nedgalvinasked.

The old man snorted.“He senthisorders,which isall we need.” The old manreached into a shirt pocket,pulled out a paper, unfoldedit,andread,“Don’tkillhim.”He looked up again atNedgalvin.“Thatwasthefirstpart of it.” He returned hisattention to the paper andtook up reading again,pronouncing each word with

care. “Hewas agood soldieronce, but his delusion isoffensive. Beat him anytimeherepeatsthestorythatheisaLutawanofficer.”

“Did Helvero tell youmyname?”Nedgalvinasked.

The old man refoldedthe paper and put it back inhis pocket. “You’ve shamedyour family and they don’twant your name known.We’re supposed to call youNed.”

“It’s Nedgalvin,”Nedgalvinsaid.He’dfoughtahundred teenage battles toforce his peers to use hisproper name and he wasn’tabout to tolerate thenickname from themouth ofthisoldfool.“Andtheaccentis real. I am a Lutawanofficer. A general, in fact.And the only reason I canthinkof that I’mstill alive isbecause that fatherlessspawnHelvero wants to make a

present of me to the Biddenwhore at a time of hischoosing. So why don’t yousave both of us unwantedtimeandtroubleandsendthemessage yourself?TellTakisI’mhere and that despiteherbest efforts I’m still alive.Ask theBiddenwhore if shewantstogoanotherround.”

Thistiradeignitedalookofrageintheoldman’seyes,but he showed more self-control than Nedgalvin

expected, answering incontrolled syllables. “You’redemon-ridden,boy.Nodoubtof it. But we’ll have youseeingstraightagainsoon.”

Half an hour before sunsetfour burly guards came intothecellarmedwithbirchrodswhich they used with goodskill to stun Nedgalvin’swristsandarms,longenough

tobindhim.Thentheyforcedhim to drink a bitter syrup.“It’s called ‘mercy,’” one ofthe men explained, a half-smileonhisfaceashelookedfor fear in Nedgalvin’s eyes.“Itenhancespainseventimesover, so the flagellatordoesn’thavetoworksohard,and the orderlies aren’tbotheredwithpatchingup somuchtornskin.”

They flogged him atsunset in an inner yard and

thoughNedgalvinresolvedhewouldnotcryoutitwasonlythree strokesbeforehebrokehis oath and nineteen beforehefainted.

He woke in the dark ofnight, his back on fire, andeverymuscleinhisbodystiffand bruised. He touched hisback, exploring the damage.Hisskinwashot,marredwithraisedweltsandcoveredwitha sticky substance that hetookforblooduntilhe tasted

it,andthenhedecideditwassalve.

Four guards came in atdawn; not the same four asthe day before. Theirspokesman told him if heconsented to shackles, hecould come to the mess hallto eat. When Nedgalvindidn’t answer, the guardshrugged and stepped to thedoor.“Bequick.”

A boy came in withbread, a small bowl of stew,

and a fresh flagon of water.Heglancedatthebucket,butitwashardlyused, sohe leftit.

Thedoorclosedand theday passed. In the afternoonthe old man came again toquestionhimthrough thespyhole. Nedgalvin refused todeny his name or his past orthe two hundredmen he hadled to their deaths, so atsunsettheyfloggedhimagainafter another bitter dose of

mercy. This time he lasteduntil the count reachedtwenty-four.

KoráyosLoyaltySeök feared Smoke mightfind some reason to comeback,sohewaitedafullfiveminutes before he arose.Yelena looked startled to see

him. “Oh Seök, I forgot youwere sleeping there or Iwould have wakened you. Ihad a visitor already, one oftheHauntén!Nonehaveevercometomystorebefore.”

Seök resolved not tospeak to his sister of thestranger’struename.Thelessshe knew, the better for her.“I saw him, but I thought Idreamedit.”

“Oh, you must havebeen half-awake. The

Hauntén are kind to us,sweetening the water,calming the livestock, luringmaidens out after dark.Mostly they come at festivaltime, for they love themusicand the colorful lanterns. It’sunusualthattheycometobuygoods, but it happens,especiallyiftheyaretryingtoseduceastubborngirl.”

“Soitwasreal.”Notthathe harbored any doubt! “Hesaid itwashis role todeliver

curses, not blessings. Thatdoesn’tsoundkindlytome.”

“Tschaw! Vainposturing, I’m sure, andnothing more. I remember atime when you thought it afinethingtobefeared.”

“Thattimeislongpast.”“SometimesI thinkonly

thevainestoftheforestspiritscome to see us, those thatwish to gain our admiration.But this one behaved wellenough.Hepaidingoodcoin

and made no threat againstmeandI’msurehemeantnoharm.”

“Did you ever see thisone before, Yelena? Or hearofhim?”

Shefrowned inconcern.“Seök, what is the matter? Ithink your dream must havefeltmorelikeanightmare!”

“Ithinkyou’reright.”“I’ll cook you breakfast

and you’ll feel better. But toanswer your question, no.

The Hauntén I’ve seen havebeen smaller and more lithethan this one. I might havetaken him for aman, but forhiseyes.”

Seök nodded, feelinghauntedbythememoryoftheglittering light in Smoke’seyes.

When breakfast was done,Seök took up his purse and

setoffintotherain,insearchof a sturdy riding horse. Hereturned to his sister’smercantile at midmorning,the horse saddled and ready.Yelena was certain thatmadness had taken him.“What do mean you’releaving? What about yourwagon? Your oxen? Howcouldyouhavepaidsomuchforthishorse?”

“IpaidwhatIneededto,andImustgonow.Ican’ttell

you the reason. Not until Ireturn.Yelena,youmustkeepthe wagon and the oxen forme.”

“Of course, of course!But what has happened?Seök,you’refrighteningme.”

“No, please don’t beafraid. Nothing is changedfrom yesterday. It’s only thebusiness of the Trenchant Imustattendto.”

The Puzzle Lands were wellnamed.Theywereamazeofsheer-sided, fog-wreathedmountains covered in denseevergreen forests, linked bynarrow roads and windingfootpaths thatwereknowntovanishfromoneseasontothenext.TheEastwayevenwentunderground for a time,passing through a lightlesscavern beneath the EastTanglewhere ghostly echoestemptedtravelerstogoastray.

Waterfalls plunged intonarrow valleys, sendingwhite-waterriversracingpastterracedfarmland.

In the Puzzle Lands itwaseasytogetlost.

Seök, though, had beeneleven years in the army.He’d patrolled every borderand knew many of themountain trails. He returnedbyEastway,butafterpassingthrough the WhisperingCavern he turned his horse

north,ridingswiftlyalongthemountain trails of the EastTangle, to arrive late eachnightataroadsideinn.

Four days after leavingNefión, he turned his horseonto a rarely used path thatambled to the top ofEverwatch Ridge, and in theearly afternoon he came tothe summit, and the forest’sedge.

The forest on the westside ofEverwatchRidge had

been cut down long ago andconverted to pasture,eliminating cover that mighthave benefitted an enemy.Sheepgrazed the steepgreenslope. Below was a widefarming valley, with the cityofSamerhengrownupalongthe river and around the footof a low plateau. Atop theplateau was the fortress, itshigh stone walls surroundinga complex of barracks,stables,andworkshops,along

with the family hall of theBidden.

As thehawkflies itwastwo miles from EverwatchRidge to the fortress, but theair was so clear Seök couldcount the twelve sentriesstationed on the fortresswalls.Hepitiedthem.Tobeasentry at Samerhen was thedullest duty in the army. Nobloodhadbeenspilledinthisvalley since the days ofKoráy, but the vigilance of

the Koráyos people did notslacken.

Sheepscatteredfromhispath as Seök descendedthrough the pasture. Hepassed a green wheat fieldandcamenexttotheoutskirtsof the city. Samerhen was amaze of well-kept homes,stores, and warehouses. Thestreetswerecleanandshadedwith trees, and dogs andchickens were kept behindfences.

But that was typical inthePuzzleLands,whereeventhetiniestvillageormountainholding was assiduouslycaredfor.

By contrast, in thecourse of the war, Seök hadseen countless grubbysouthern villages and onefilthy, stinking city thatlooked as if it was kept byuncaringslaves. Itastonishedhim that people could livelike that—but of course the

men of the south were lazyand arrogant, good only forsoldiering,whiletheirwomenbided in contempt until achance came to flee north. Ifnot for their numbers, such apathetic people would be nothreatatall.

Seökhadnot lovedwar,but he knew the Koráyoswere a free people onlybecauseofthestrengthofthearmyandtheprotectionoftheBidden. He’d ridden in the

Trenchant’s personalcompany for a year and heknew Dehan as a cold manwho showed little love tothose around him—but whatdid that matter? Like everygeneration of the Biddenbefore him, Dehan hadfiercely defended the PuzzleLands and the freedoms ofthe Koráyos people, and hewould allow no one toenslave another, as theLutawans were so fond of

doing.Seök lovedhimfor it,and he would fight again,without hesitation, if theTrenchant required him, andhewoulddoastheTrenchantcommanded, whether thoseordersweredistastefultohimornot, forhewellknew thatall that was sweet in thePuzzleLandswouldbelostifthe Koráyos ever again fellunderthecurseofthesouth.

He urged his horse to atrot,andbeforelonghecame

to the cliff road that climbedin three switchbacks to thefortress gate. He explainedhimselftotheguard.Thenhishorse was taken away to becared for in the stable,whilehewasledthroughalonghalland up a wide stairway toDehan’slibrary.

The double doors stoodopen. Light came in throughclerestory windows, fallingacross leather-bound bookscollected on long shelves. A

fireburnedonawidehearth.Narrow tables set along thewalls were covered in mapsand notepaper, while at theroom’s center was a largeoval table surrounded by aflock of arm chairs. Ten ormore men and women werebusy at their tasks, updatingmaps, reports, or records.Seökhardlyglancedat them.His gazewent at once to thecornerfarthestfromthedoor,where Dehan the Trenchant

sat by himself in a largecushionedchairplacedbesideawindow thatoverlookedanenclosed garden. Despite thedaylight streaming in fromoutside, an oil lamp burnedabove him, its yellow lightilluminating the pages of alargebookopeninhislap.

Seökwas startled to seehow the Trenchant had agedthese past few years. He’dheard it said that the Biddenaged swiftly, but it disturbed

him to think that itmight betrue. Dehan’s brindled hairwas still long and heavy, butthe gray now dominated theblack. His face had alwaysbeen the dark brown ofsmoke-stainedwoodbutnowit was more weathered thanever, the lines deeper. Hiseyebrows were thick andgrayerthanhishair.

Dehan looked up. HishabitualscowlfixedonSeök.Itwasnopleasantthingtobe

pinned under that gaze, butSeök endured it, hurryingacross the wide room andoutpacinghistimidguide.

Hedropped to onekneebefore the Trenchant, but hedidn’t bow his head. TheTrenchant didn’t require amantogrovelastheLutawaneliteweresaidtodo.Instead,Seök lookedup intoDehan’sdark eyes—so black it wasalmost impossible to makeout a pupil—and still

somehowsobrightSeökwassure they could see into hissoul.

“I know you,” Dehansaid. “Seök. Eleven years inandnowretired.”

“Yours still tocommand, sir.” And then heblurted out his news: “Sir, Ihave seen your son! And bythe grace of Koráy and theDreadHammerI’mstillalivetobringyouthenews.”

Dehan closed the book

inhislapandsetitaside.Heleanedforward.“Sayon.”

Seök glanced up as theTrenchant’s eldest daughter,Takis, came in from thegarden. She was tall andstrongly built, her black hairbound tight in a knot behindherneck.Sheworealavendersilk tunic and loose graytrousers. Her eyes werealmost as green as Smoke’s,but they were human eyes,bright only with reflected

light as they fixed on him insharp suspicion. Seök bowedhis head in greeting. Takis,too, looked older than heremembered, though attwenty-six she was stillyoungandlovely.

Shewenttostandbesideher father, placing apossessivehandonhischair’shighback.

Seök returned his gazeto the Trenchant. “I sawSmoke in Nefión four days

ago, when he came into mysister’s store. Itwas just pastdawn, on a morning oftorrential rain.” Seök told ofhow he’d feigned sleepamongthetradegoods,whileSmoke paid in coin for thelengths of fabric he selected.He recounted the wordsSmoke had spoken. He toldof the door that was stillbarred on the inside whenSmokewenttoleave.Hetoldof Smoke’s green glittering

eyes and his sister’s beliefthatshe’dbeenvisitedbyoneoftheHauntén.

AllthetimehespoketheTrenchant said nothing, andhis expression didn’t change,butSeökdidn’tdoubthetookin every word. For her part,Takis looked increasinglyuneasy; she kept glancing ather father as if expectingsome dreadful reaction.Finally she interrupted Seök.“The Hauntén are known to

visit Nefión. Couldn’t it bethatyoursisterwasright,andthis was just a forest spirit?His words were innocentenough, and you never sawhisface.”

Seök recalled Smoke’stalkofcursesanddidn’tthinkit innocent, but he wasn’tgoing toargue thepointwithTakis. “The shadow of hishoodcouldn’thide thesoundof his laugh, ma’am, or thetimbre of his voice, and I’ve

heardbothbefore.”The Trenchant stirred at

last. Leaning back, hescowled up at his daughter.“Takis,youraisedhimtobeavain rooster.What a fool, toreveal himself just for thechance tobuya fewyardsoffancycloth.”

Seök said, “Sir, there isanotherthing.”

“Sayon.”“I didn’t see him again

afterthat,butasIwasleaving

Nefión an errand boy camerunning into town. His eyeswerewild.He shouted abouta murder he had found—though Idon’tknow if ithasanythingtodowithSmoke.”

“Sayon.”“The boy had been sent

to fetch an herbal remedyfrom Nefión’s wise woman,who lives someway into theforest. He found the door ofher cottage ajar, so he wentin. And there she was,

stabbedthroughtheheartandlaidoutbeforeakindledfire.The boy had been to hercottage many times and hereported that all else wasundisturbed, save that threebooks were gone from theirplace on the table. I didn’tstay to hear more, but rodeoutwithallhaste.”

“Do you know whatbooks these were?” Takisasked.

“No, ma’am. The boy

didn’tsay.”

HeartbeatsTakiswasnotpleased,notatall pleased, with the newsSeök had brought. Sheslipped away while theTrenchantthankedtheformersoldier, and settled a rewardonhim.Certainlyhedeserved

a reward! Seök hadconducted himself withwisdom and bravery and allthe loyalty that was to beexpected of a Koráyossoldier,butTakiswouldhavebeenfarhappierifnowordofher brother ever came toSamerhen while theTrenchantwasalive.

No good could come ofthis news. Of that she wassure.

Her twin sister, Tayval,

was waiting for her in theapartment they sharedupstairs. “Can you sensehim?” Takis demanded,before the door had evenclosedbehindher.

Tayvalwassittingcross-legged on the window seat,her eyes half-closed, thedistant,sheep-grazedslopeofEverwatchRidgerisinggreenbehindher.Shedidn’tanswerher sister—not aloud—buther familiar voice spoke

withinTakis’ thoughts. I cansensehim faintlyas I alwaysdo, enough to know he lives.MorethanthatIcan’tsay.

Though Takis andTayvalweretwins,theywerenot alike. Tayval shared hersister’s black hair and greeneyes, but she was a willowycreature, slight and slenderand easily forgotten by mostpeople who encountered her.Silence was her veil. Not awordhadeverpassedherlips

andonly rarelydid sheshowjoy or anger, and never fear.Though Tayval had someskill in the arts of war, andthough shewas aswilling asTakis to take aman into herbed, her physical reflectionwasonlyafractionofabeingwhose greater part livedamong the weft and warp oftheworld-beneath.TakiswasthefaceofKoráy,butTayvalwasherpower.

“Why did Smoke do it,

Tayval? Why did he takesuchachance,andlethimselfbeseen?Becausetheriskwasworth it to him, I know, butwhy?”

Dehan comes, Tayvalwarned. Shewas up at once,hurrying past Takis to openthedoor.

Takistookpossessionofher seat at the window. Shewatched Tayval greet theirfather, trading a kiss and asmile. Affection shone in

Dehan’s eyes. Takis knew itwasreal.HewasBidden,andso his heart was bound bymore than thenatural loveofa parent for a child. Koráyhad set this spell on all theirkind,sothataparentwastiedtoachildbyanabidinglove,and the child in turn wasbound to the parent. Takisand Tayval were conceivedtogether and Dehan lovedthem both madly; but whenSmokecame,theyalllearned

that the spell did not reachpastthefirstconception.

Turning his attentionfromTayval,Dehanassumedawoundedair.“Itrustyouinallthings,Takis,exceptwhenit comes to Smoke. Howmuchdidyoualreadyknow?”

Shemet his questioninggazewithascowl.“Iknewhewas alive. You knew it too.Seök’sreportconfirmsit,butthisisn’tnews.”

“Youdon’twant to find

him!”“No, my father, I don’t

wantyoutofindhim.”“Takis, you waste your

affection on him! I’ve begunto wonder if the reason youhaven’t conceived a child isbecauseyou’vealreadymademydemonsonyourown!”

Takiswasonher feet inan instant, her own temper amatchfortheTrenchant’s.“Ifhe’sademonitwasyouwhomade him that way! There

wasnoharminhimwhenhewasmychild.”

“That isn’t true. Ifanyone had ever raised a fistto you, Smoke would havestruckthemdown,evenwhenhewas a tiny child.Death ishis nature. Everyone whoencounters him sees it atonce.Doyouknowthenamethey’ve given him in thesouth?”

Takis turned away indisgust.“I’veheardit.”

“Dismay. That’s thename your beloved brotherhas made for himself! Thedesperatecallonhim,prayingtohimtowreckhavocintheirname.”

“Is it any wonder hefled? I wouldn’t stay, if Iheardsuchprayers!”

“You would stay. Youwere born for a purpose,mybelovedTakis.”He turned toTayval, who had followedthis argument with a

disinterested gaze. “And youaswell,mypreciousTayval.Iknow you both would diebefore you abandoned thePuzzle Lands or allowed theKoráyos people to fall to theLutawan Kingdom. But yourbrother doesn’t serve theKoráyos and he isn’t boundby any love for the PuzzleLands.He’saweaponforouruse,nothingmore.”

“I think you’re right,”Takis said, speaking slowly

as she chased down a flurryof new thoughts. “Smoke’spurpose is not the same asours. It’s almost as if somemeddling demon found himin the womb and twined itsspirit around his own,because he is bothmore andlessthanweare.”

She had turned away,lost in thought, but Tayval’svoice recalled her. You’vestartled him. You’ve struckclose tohome . . . thoughhe

doesn’twantyoutoseeit.Takisturned.Dehanhad

gone to sit in an armchair.She drew near and glareddownathim.“Whatisit thatyouknow?”

Dehan cupped his chin,considering the question.“WearetheBidden.Wewerebidden to leave the WildWood and become areflection of the people.Andso we have, for fivegenerations, but Smoke is

flawed. The Wild Wood isstrongerinhim.Aloneamongusherunsthethreads,andhiseyes...”

Takis sighed. “Theyglitter like the eyes of theHauntén.”

Dehan’svoicehardened.“Where is he Takis? If youknow,youmusttellme.”

She shook her head.“You know it aswell asme.He’s hidden himself in theWildWood . . . but perhaps

he hasn’t gone there becauseofthisfeudwithyou.Perhapsit’s because the Wild Woodhas called him home. If youmustfindhim,searchforhimthere.”

“Icometoyouforhelp,andthisisallyoutellme?Toseek for him in a woodwithoutend? Icould spendalife searching and never findhimthere!”

“Perhaps,”Takismused,“he’snot theoneyou should

besearchingfor?”Tayval shot her a

startled look; Takis wassuddenlyawashinconfusion.Why had she said thosewords aloud? She hadn’tmeant to. She pressed herfingers to her forehead. “Myloyaltiesaredivided.”

Dehan sighed. “They’renot. In the end you’ll alwaysdo what’s needed to protectthe Puzzle Lands.” He stoodupandwalkedtothewindow,

his hands clasped behind hisbackashegazedat thesteepgreen slope of EverwatchRidge.

Takis watched him,holding her breath, notwantinghim topuzzle it out,butitwasavainhope.She’dalreadygivenhimthekey.

“So if Smoke is notalone,” he mused, “whosecompanywouldherisk?”Hechuckledsoftly.“Iwaswrongbefore. Smoke is a vain

rooster, but he’s not such afoolthathewouldriskbuyingpretty silks for himself . . .butforthepleasureofanother...?”

Takisdidn’tsayaword.She didn’t have to. Dehanhadalreadyuntangledallherthoughts.

Butthenhewentfarther.“What then of the wisewoman?Whatisthemeaningin it? Smoke wouldn’t needsuch as her. He knows the

treasures of the Wild Wood.Her herbals would have novalue to him, and he wouldcare nothing for her healingskills—he who would neveroffer solace to a woundedenemy.”

Only as he spoke didTakis comprehend the lastpiece of the puzzle. “Awisewoman also serves asmidwife,” she whispered.Shockran throughherasshesaid the words. Despair.

Jealousy. She ducked herhead to hide a startling rushofunaccustomedtears.

Nextsheknew,Dehan’sarmswerearoundherandshewas weeping like a childagainst his chest, not just forthe bitter irony that fate hadgiven Smoke a child whileleavingherbarren,butforthesheer painlessness of all heraffairs, each one leading tonothing, except the last onewhich had left her heart raw

for no reason she couldexplain.

Damnyou,Nedgalvin!“It should have been

you,” Dehan murmured toher.“Itshouldhavebeenyouwho was blessed with achild.”

The storm didn’t last.After aminute shewas calmagain. She stood back andwiped her eyes. “I’m sorry,myfather.Itwasnotmeanttobe.”

Dehan nodded. ThentheybothturnedtoTayval.

She still stood near thedoor as she had sinceDehanhad come into the room, butTakis could see that Tayvalwasn’t really there.Her eyeswere half-closed and empty,as if her soul had steppedaway.

Takis caught Dehan’selbowbeforehecoulddisturbher.“She’slistening.”

“Whatcanshehear?”

“Perhapstheheartbeatofa mother and child, lostsomewhere in the WildWood?”

“It’slikelythechildisn’tbornyet.”

“Nevertheless, its heartisbeating.”

Dehannodded.“Letitbedone then.” He started toleave.

Takis stopped him withaword.“Dehan.”

She had fully recovered

herself. Her hurt was putaway.ShewasdescendantofKoráy, first warrior of theBidden, and she spoke nowwith raw truth. “I’m notdoingthisforyou.”

Dehan flinched, but hesaidnothing.

“Ilovemybrother,andIdon’t begrudge him hisfreedom or his fate, but hischild belongs to theKoráyospeople.”

The Trenchant nodded.

“Thenweareagreed.”

~

Hthreadsmakeuptheweftandwarpoftheworld,butbetweenthem

runthefineandever-changingthreadswegrowbetweenourselves.Dotheseseemfragile?They’renot.

TheMidwife’sBooks

Ketty screamedwhenSmokewalkedinthedoor.

Dusk had fallen, andthough itwasdimwithin thecottage, there was lightenoughfromthefiretogleamagainst the fresh bloodstainsonhischest.

“You are wounded!”Kettycried,rushingtohim.

“No.”Heturnedasidesoshe wouldn’t be touched bythe midwife’s blood, stillfresh, wet, and glimmering.

He had been hours on thethreads, coming home, butnothing of himself ever agedor changed during thatpassage. His crime was stillfresh.

His hands were stillshaking.

Ketty drew back, herbreath ragged, her eyes fixedonhis chest. “If it’snotyou,whose blood is it? You saidyou wouldn’t murderanyone.”

“I said I wouldn’t if Icould help it. But don’tworry.Itwasn’tyourkin.”

“Smoke—”“Ketty, I sawoneof the

Hauntén.”Her eyes went wide in

horror. “You murdered aHauntén?Whatarewegoingto do? They’ll come after us—”

“I didn’t murder aHauntén!I justsawone.I’venever seen one before and I

hope I never do again, but Idon’t want to talk about it.Here—” He took the satchelfromhisshoulder.“Holdthis,butdon’topenityet.”

She eyed the bagsuspiciously, but then shetookitfromhim.“It’sheavy.How much flour did youbuy?”

“Enough.”While Smoke set aside

his sword,Ketty again testedtheweightof thebag.“Since

youcancarryallthisthroughthe threads,” she askedthoughtfully,“couldyou takemetoo?”

Smoke stripped off hiscoat and the stained tunicbeneath, trying to imaginecarrying Ketty with him intotheweft.Heshookhishead.

“Butwhynot?”“It’s not your nature.

Some flowers grow only intheshadewhilesomefindlifeinthebrightsun.”

“And you live in bothplaces.”

“Come see what I’vebrought you.” Catching upthe satchel in one hand, hetookherhandintheotherandtumbledontothebed,pullingher down beside him. Thenhe opened the bag, andwithout letting her see insideit, he pulled out a neatlyfoldedpieceofwine-redsilk.

Her eyes went wide inastonishment. She seized the

cloth, rolled out of bed, andran to the open doorway toadmire the color in theday’slastlight.“Smoke!I’veneverseenanythingsolovely.”Sheturnedtolookathim,tearsinhereyes.

Hegrinned,wellpleasedwithhimself,andthefearthathad followed him back fromNefión began to fade.“Come,”hetoldher.“There’smoretosee.”

Hepulledoutthebagof

flourandsetitaside.Thenheshowed her the rest of thecloth: flannel, canvas, moresilks.Therewasthreadtoo,tostitch them with. Ketty layback on the bed, her eyesglazed as if exhausted fromlovemaking. It was anexpression that aroused himatonce,anditseemedtohima fine idea to give her anadditional reason to swoon.Herbellyhadgrownbig andround, but they’d learned

ways to deal with that. Heleanedovertokissher.

But she sat up suddenlyand, ignoring his advances,shereachedforthesack.“It’snotemptyyet!Whatelsedidyoubring?”

“Books.Formetoread.”“You know how to

read?”Hesmiledandkissedher

again.“Whatkindofbooks?”“The sort that would

frighten you. Except theherbal book. You might liketolookatthepictures.”

“Showme?”He peered into the

satchel and pulled it out.They sat together, whileKetty turned the pages,admiring all the finedrawings. She recognizedmany of the plants, andnamed some. “I can’t read,”shesaidafterawhile.

“I know. Why should

you? You’ve probably neverevenseenabookbefore.”

“Oh yes I have! A poetwho visited our village hadone. He read the mostextraordinary tales from it.”Her finger hovered over theneatlettering.“Iwouldliketobe able to read a book likethis. Smoke? How did youlearntoread?”

“My sisters made melearnwhenIwasachild.”

“Willyouteachme?”

“No.”“No? Why ‘no’? Is it

sacred? Or is this not in mynatureeither?”

He took thebookoutofher hands and set it aside.“No, because it’s my naturetowant to tasteyouand loveyou and wrap myself allaround you, and enter intoyour sacred gate when I’vebeen away from your sweetbodyforsoverylong.”

“You’vebeengoneonly

today!” she protested,laughing.

“It’s too long for me.Nowsurrender,andmaybe ifyoucankeepyoureyesopenafter, I’ll tell you what thelettersmean.”

Therewasastrangedaynearmidsummer when the treeswoke up and startedwhispering among

themselves. Ketty noticed itfirst. She ran under theboughs, grinning like a littlegirl while the leaves rustledand hissed above her head.“Smoke, listen! Listen! Canyou understand their words?Do you know what they’resaying?”

He listened, but hedidn’tshareherdelight.Treesshouldnotbetalking.They’dnever talked before. Therewas no reason for them to

talk now. He didn’t like it.Notatall.

“I can’t understandthem.”

“Ohwell.Iguessit’snotin your nature. Maybe onlythe Hauntén can understandtrees.”

The Hauntén? Smoke’sheart started thudding.Couldthisbe aHauntén spell?Onethat was sent by the forestspirithe’dencounteredat thecottage? If she found them,

he’dhavetokillher.Buthismindhadhardly

formed this thoughtwhen herecoiled from it. He did notwanttoseeheragain.

He did not want to killher.

He listened to the trees,but though he was sure theirwhispering was a dialog oftrue words, none of themwere words he knew. In theearlyafternoonthetreesgaveup their conversation, and

afterwardtheyspokeonlythesusurrationofthewind.

Afewdayslater,Ketty’slaborbegan.

She was restless in themorning,walkingaboutintheforest as her belly began tocramp. In the afternoon shecurled up in bed with themidwife’s books, readingthrough all three of themagain. She’d read them somany timesshe’dmemorizedalmosteverythingtheyhadto

say,thoughshenevertiredoflookingatthepictures.Yetasthe light faded, she put themaside.

Nightcame,andherpaingrew. Ketty was frightened.By midnight she lay in bed,herskinglisteningwithsweatas the birth pangs wrenchedfrom her moans and tears.Smoke could hardly bear it,andwhen she beggedhim tomakeitstophewassurethatshe would die, and that this

was his punishment formurdering his mother on thedayofhisownbirth.

Manytimesheturnedtoconsult the midwife’s book.Though he had long sincememorized everything itcontained, he looked againand again for something hemighthavemissed.But therewasnothing.Onlyheragony,thatwentonuntildawn.

Then her cries changed,and it all grew worse. She

growled and screamed andwrestled with the demoninside her. And then as herlegs parted, he saw at last adarkmass at her sacredgate.“Ketty! I see it! It’s just likethe picture. Our baby isnearlyborn.”

Yet another agonycameoverKetty and she screamedandpushed.

“Easy, easy, my love,”Smoke urged her,remembering the instruction

from the book. Then thebaby’s head was free. Helookedatit,andknewthathismother’s vengeance hadtakenadifferentform.Itwasa demon head—all squashedand malformed, wrapped inbloodandslime.Smokedrewback in fear . . . but truly, itwas just a little thing. Hereached out to support itshead in his palm, astonishedat its fiery warmth. Then hehelped its shoulder to slip

free.Andthen,withasighofdeepestrelieffromKetty, therest of the baby slid into theworld.

The baby was a girl.Smokeheldherslipperybodyin his two large hands,frowningather. “She’sugly,Ketty.”Herfistsweremovingin little circles, and after amomentshebleated,andthenshewailed.

Ketty shuddered, lyingexhausted on the bed. “Give

hertome.Letmesee.”Smoke tied off the

umbilicus as the midwife’sbook instructed, and then heheldupthehowlingchildforKettytosee.

Astonishmentilluminated Ketty’s face.“She’s not ugly! She’sperfect.Handhertome.”

A strange feeling cameoverSmoke.Wasitthescentof this ugly, shriveled baby?Surely it was not her looks!

But something about hermade his heart swell with adire affection. She was stillsqualling in his hands, butwhen he bent to kiss herforehead, she quieted. As hegazedather,itseemedtohimhehadneverseenanythingsoprecious.

“Smoke!”Ketty’s sharp tone

recalledhim.Hesmiled.“Wehaveadaughter,Ketty.”

“Letmeholdher.”

He passed the baby toher, and she cradled the tinychild against her breast.Smoke looked at them andthought he should die of joyin that moment, and that hewouldsurelydieiftheywereevertakenfromhim.

“I hope I never ampartedfromyouKetty.”

Her shining eyes shiftedfromthebaby,togazeathim.She smiled. “And why evershouldyoube?”

Demon-RiddenNedgalvin sat with his legsbent, back against a wall,basking in the late afternoonsunthatstillwarmedacornerof his tiny prison yard. Hiswrists were shackled to achain around his waist, andhis ankles were shackled toone another. Any movementon his part and the chainswould rattle, so he sat verystill. It was easier to pretend

hewasinthecourtyardofhisestate, recovering from somelong illness, if hedidn’t hearthechains.

How much time he’dspent in this lovely, cleanprison he didn’t know.Summerhad come.Heknewit by the length of days, notby the heat. The season herewas much cooler than in theLutawanKingdom.

His guards still calledhimdemon-ridden.

Itwouldhavebeeneasyenough for him to cooperate,to saywhat theywantedhimto say, to do what theywanted him to do. For themostparttheywerenotcruelmen.Theirjobwastopunishand to retrain failed andcriminal soldiers, and fromwhat Nedgalvin could workout,theyweregoodatit.

But they’d failed withhim.

Fourteen days of

floggings had not broughtabout any change in hisanswerswhentheyaskedhimwhohewas, so they stoppedboth the questions and thebeatings. In return, heallowed them three days ofpeace.Thenheassaultedoneof the guards and theyfloggedhimagain.

After that they tookmore care in how theyhandled him, but he stillmanaged a minor assault

often enough that they’dstarted putting a sedative inhiswater.Fordaysafterwardhe assumed he was sick. Ithad takenhima long time toworkoutthetruth,despitethebittertastethatwasalwaysinhismouth.

He didn’t fight themanymore.Hecouldn’tmusterthe energy. But he was stilldemon-riddenandcouldn’tbetrusted in the company ofother prisoners. So he was

taken alone everyday to thissametinycourtyardwherehesat in the sun like a uselessold man, remembering hisformer self and the two-hundred men who had diedunderhiscommand.

Whatafoolhe’dbeentothink Takis would leave thepass unguarded!What a foolhe’dbeennottogoalonethatnight,tohearwhatshehadtoofferhim.

Hiseyeswereclosed,his

mind adrift, when he heardthe gate to the courtyardopen. It was early for theguards to come. Somewheredeep down beneath the drughaze he felt a stirring ofalarm.With an effort ofwillhepushedoffhislethargyandopenedhiseyes.

Twoofficerswereinthecourtyard.Oneheknewtobethe prisonwarden.The otherwasawoman.Disguststirredinhisheart.

Although Koráyoswomen were not like thestupid sows of the LutawanKingdom they were stillwomen.Itwastheirroletobeservants of men, not tocommand them. To make awomananofficerandsetherabove the men in hercommand was insulting anddegrading to all men, nomatter their rank. Nedgalvinhad long since decided thatsuchwomanofficerswereno

more than puppets, meremouthpieces of the Biddenwho must command them ineveryleastway.Nothingelsecouldexplaintheirsuccessonthebattlefield.

The officer who nowapproachedmusthaveservedher masters for many years,judging by her weatheredface and steel gray hair. ShelookedfamiliartoNedgalvin,andhewondered if he’dmether on the battlefield. She

crouched in front of him,studyinghis facewith a coldgaze.

Nedgalvin’s pridechided him. He should dosomething—he had areputation as a demon-riddenmadmanafterall—but itwashard to get up, much lesslaunch an attack, with hiswrists shackled so closely tohiswaist.

“By Koráy and theHammer,” the woman said.

“It’s Nedgalvin all right,though he must have lostforty pounds since the lasttime I saw him. Don’t youfeedyourprisonershere?”

The warden shrugged.“If he wants more to eat hecanworkinthefields,buthewon’tdothat.”

The woman cocked herhead at Nedgalvin.“Woman’swork?” she askedhim.

“YouknowwhoIam.”

“Wemetonenight,”sheagreed.

Hesearchedhismemoryand then it came to him.“ThatnightIalmostkilledtheHauntén.”

“Come,” the wardensaid.TakingNedgalvinbytheelbow, he forced him tostand. “You’re beingtransferred to ChieftainRennish’scustody.”

“Where’s Helvero?”Nedgalvin demanded to

know.“He’s dead,” Rennish

said.“Whatschemehehadinmindwhenhesentyouhere,Idon’tknow,buthewaskilledinbattlenotaweekafteryourventureatFortVeshitan.”

“Nobodyknewwhoyouwere,”thewardenadded.“Orwhyyouwerehere.”

Nedgalvinbrokeoutinacold sweat. He’d struggledformonths to convince themofwhohewas;nowthatthey

knew . . . “You’ve come toexecuteme?”

“That would be apleasure to do, truly,”Rennish said. “But I’msending you off to Samerheninstead. It was Takis youbetrayed. It’s for her todecideyourfate.”

~

THaunténcarenothingforpeopleexceptasoccasionalamusements,especiallyinthespring.Theirdevotionistotheforest.It’ssaidtheyhaveawhispering

languagetheyusetospeaktothetrees,andthetreesusethislanguagetowhisperamongthemselvesofthegoings-onintheforest.Onetreespeakstoanother,andinthisway

newsiscarriedallthewaytothedarkheart.

ACruelWifeIthappenedagainon thedaythe baby was born: the treeswoke up and talked about it.Smoke heard them when he

went outside to wash thesoiled blankets, and againwhen he went to fetchwaterand an armload of summerflowers to sweeten the littlecottage. He couldn’tunderstand their words ofcourse, but he knew whattheyweresaying.Onthatdaytherewasnothingelseworthyto be discussed except tinyBritta.

Britta. That was thenameKettygaveher.

Smokelikedthename.Itwas sweet and strong andpretty. “I was mistaken,” hetold Ketty that evening.“Brittaisn’tuglyatall.She’salmostasprettyasyouare.”

“You’re an idiot,”Kettysaid, but she said it with asmile.

Smokehatedtobeawayfromthebaby.

Several days went by—forSmokeitwasallahazeofsweetness as he doted overKetty and Britta—but theirprovisions were dwindling,and with them, Ketty’spatience. “It’s your ill luckyouweren’t born awoman,”she scolded him. “Then youmight spend each day andnight with your infant. Butyou are cursed to be a man.So go! Now! Today! Andhuntbeforeweallstarve.”

“Comewithme,then.”“No.WhyshouldI?”He confessed the truth.

“I have a dread of leavingyou.”

“Why? What do youfear?”

“Anything. Everything.That some dreadful fateshould find you while I’mgone.”

She rolled her eyes insilent appeal to the DreadHammer. “You are being

silly! We’re safe here. Howmany times have youpromised me it’s so? Andanyway, starvation is adreadful fate. Save us fromthat,Ibegyou.”

Her tone had nothing todowithbegging.

“You’re a cruel wife,”Smoketoldher.

She narrowed her eyesandrepeatedherself.“Go.”

So he took up his bowand a quiver of arrows and

withreluctantstepshesetoutintotheforest.

He dawdled for a time,just out of sight. He felt thethreads, sensing Ketty’spresenceand thecalmnessofher soul as she nursed thebabyandthensettleddowntoread one of the midwife’sbooks over again. He knewtherewasnothingtofearandstill as he walked away hissoulwashauntedbyaterribledread.

He went anyway, ofcourse.He didn’t dare returnwithoutmeat inhand.It tookan effort of will, buteventually he focused hismind on the hunt, and in theearlyafternoonhecamebackto the meadow with thecarcassofayoungpig,andasackofbrownmushrooms.

It was a rare sunnyafternoon, and Ketty waswalking about among themeadow flowers with Britta

inherarms.Shewaswearingthe blue dress she’d madefrom the silk he’d broughther, while the baby waswrapped up inwhite flannel.They were so beautifultogether. Smoke felt hisdesire heat, until it wasalmost overwhelming.“Ketty!”

She turned at his shout,coming to meet him as hehung the carcass on thebutcheringtree.Shelookedit

over with an approving eye.“So you have rememberedhow to be a man after all,”sheteased.

Hissmilewas toothy.“Iamrememberingother thingsabout being a man. You areso beautiful and I am sohungry for you. Come kissme now, while Britta issleeping.”

She gave him a darklook. She was still healing,and wouldn’t allow him to

come into her, insisting theymustfollowtheadviceinthemidwife’sbook(hecouldseethat teaching her to read hadbeen a poor idea) and waituntil the second moon afterthe babywas born. She said,“Youknowit’stoosoon.”

“Comekissmeanyway,beforeIdieforlack.”

“Your hands arebloody.”

Hespreadhisarmswide.“Iwon’ttouchyou.Justyour

lips.”Sosheconsented,anditwas sweet, but it only madehis need worse. “When I’vedied of the desire for you,then you’ll be left to reflectonyourcruelty.”

“Youaresuchababy!”And grabbing the sack

ofmushrooms,sheturnedandlefthimtothebutchering.

He hunted again a few days

later,andafterthatKettysaidshewas ready towalkabout.Shemadeaslingtocarrythebaby against her breast, andthereafter when the weatherwas fine they foraged in theforest as they’d done before,thoughnowtheywentslowerbecause Smoke was alwaysstopping to admire hisdaughter and the sparkle ofhergreeneyesasshewatchedthe pattern of sunlight in thetreessofaraboveherhead.

The first moon passed. Thesummer rolled on, andSmoke’s dread faded. Onceagain he felt assured. Hisholding within the WildWoodwassafe.Nomaraudercould draw near withoutsetting a warning vibratingthroughthe threads . . .orsohebelieved.

As the moon expandedto full he hunted more andmore often . . . not for thepurpose of bringing home

meat,butbecausehecouldn’tbearKetty’scompany—tobenearherandnottobeabletowrestleherdownontothebedandtakeawayherclothesandenterintoher...

She was the cruelest ofwives.

But the moon took pityon him, at last, at last. “It’stonight,” Smoke murmured,first thingashiseyesopenedat dawn, beneath the smokythatch. “Tonight the moon

reaches full. Then you mustlet me have you again or Iwilldie.”

“You are such a baby,”Ketty whispered, still half-asleep, but she smiled, andSmoke kissed her, hard. Inmoments she’d forgottenherself. She kissed him inreturn, her hands encouragedhim and her soft sighs senthis heart racing. But Britta,until now peacefully asleepbeside them, fussed.At once

Ketty turned to her. Smokekissed her ear and then herbreast, but she shooed himaway as she set the baby tonurse.“It’snot thefullmoonuntiltonight.”

“Ket-ty.”“Don’t whine. We

agreeditshouldbeso.”“You agreed. Not me.

And what is the differencebetween this morning andtonight?”

“The difference is the

fullmoon.”“You are a horrible

wife.”He couldn’t stay. He

wantedhersobadlyhefearedhewouldhurther.Sohetookhisbowandsetoffyetagaininto the forest.But he forgotto hunt. He only wandered,murmuring to himself, “Oh,Ketty,ohKetty,ohKetty,oh. . .” And he forgot to keepwatchoverthethreads.

Not that it mattered.

What camewas hidden fromhim by a magic greater thanhisown.

Hisfirstwarningwasthehigh, ringing wail of Ketty’sterror racing through thethreads. Horror washed overhim. His reflection dissolvedinto a haunt of gray smoke.He reached out, seekingKetty, but she was gone, hecouldn’tfindher.Hecouldn’tfind Britta. Despair slowedhistransit.Weretheyalready

dead? Then he realized healso could sense no wolves,nobears,nolions.

Noenemy.Nothing.It was as if the forest

wassuddenlyempty.So it was he knew a

higher power had come,likely a Hauntén from thedarkheartof theWildWoodcome to avenge themidwife.But Smoke would make itregretitstrespass.

Hisspiritspedalongthethreads.Within the forest,hewas a coil of gray smokesnaking between the treesand, before long, streamingacross themeadow.He burstback intoexistence just stepsfromthecottage.Evenbeforehis feet touched ground hehad his sword out of itsscabbard. He leapedscreaming at a half-glimpsedfigure sitting on the woodenthreshold of the cottage. But

hepulledupatoncewhenhesawwhoitwas.

This was no Haunténspiritoutof thedarkheartoftheWildWood, come to laywaste to his family. No. Itwas his own father, DehantheTrenchant,whosatonthethreshold in the warmsunshine,withBrittasleepingpeacefully against hisshoulder.

Dehaneyedhiswaywardsonbutsaidnothing.Smoke’s

gaze shifted minutely—right,left, up—knowing a trap hadbeen laid. It would notsurprisehimatallifaboltoflightning should leap fromthe blue sky to strike himdead. It did surprisehim thatnothinghappened.

He tightenedhisgriponhis sword, looking his fatherintheeyes.“Givehertome.”His words were barelycoherent, spoken around hisfury.

The Trenchant hissed incontempt. “You’ll nevertouchheragain.”

Smoke could barelybreathe for the heat of hisrage. A shudder ran throughhim.Thenheadvancedonhisfather, half a step, then halfagain, his gaze fixed onDehan, alert for the slightestmotion,theleasttighteningofamuscleinDehan’sface,hisneck, his hands—hands thatheld Smoke’s sleeping

daughter! If he had seen anysuch sign he would haveleaped, sword swinging, butDehanonlywatchedhim,thecontemptonhisfacehisonlyshield.

“I’ll kill you,” Smokewarned.

TheTrenchantansweredcalmly, “No. You will bringnoharmtome,butwillobeymeinallthings.”

Smoke hesitated again.There was a trap. He knew

there was. Never had he feltso afraid. His reflectionwavered as he stretched hissenses out, following theempty threads . . . but theywere an illusion, a glamourcast on the true structure oftheworld.Evenasherealizedit,theglamourdissolved,andhe felt the presence of apowerful spell. It was coiledaround his spirit, and aroundthespiritofhistinydaughter,but it began with the

Trenchant.Hehadbound thethree of them together. Butwhy?

“On your knees,” theTrenchantsaidsoftly.“Now.”

Instead, Smokeadvanced another half step,his sword held ready abovehisshoulder.

Awareness ran throughthebindingspell.Brittawokewith shocking abruptness,screaming as if a red cinderhad been laid against her

skin.Smokescreamedinturn,

shuddering, afraid to goforward, unwilling to turnback.“Whatareyoudoingtoher?Stop.Stopitnow.”

TheTrenchantpattedthebaby’sbackandwhisperedinher ear, and her screamssubsidedtoterrifiedcrying.“Iam doing nothing to her,”Dehan said. “On. Your.Knees.”

Smoke was so stunned

he hardly knew what Dehanhadsaid,butthebindingspelllistened, and when Smokeremained standing it touchedthe baby again, and onceagainhertinylungsscreamedin abject pain. TheTrenchant’s cold fury grewsuddenly hot. He arose and,cradlingthesufferingchildinhis arms, hebellowed, “Iamdoing nothing. It’s you.You,you fool. Britta suffers eachtime you don’t obeyme. On

your knees! Now, if youwouldeasehersuffering!”

This time Smoke heardhim. He saw the truth of hisfather’s words in the deepcurrent of the spell. He casthisswordawayandcollapsedtohisknees,hisheadbowed.He half-hoped the Trenchantwould kill him, but Dehanwasnotevenarmed.

Brittaquieted,comfortedby her grandfather’s tendermurmurs. Smoke started to

raisehisgazebutDehansaid,“Keep your eyes down. Donot look at her.” Smokedropped his gaze to theground.

“As you now see,”Dehan said, strolling in aslowcirclearoundSmoke,“Ihavecaughtthethreeofusina spell. It’s a very horriblespell.It’smadetokeepwatchon your obedience. Disobeyme in any way—it doesn’tmatter if I know it—and this

child will suffer. Nopunishmentwillbevisitedonyou—”

Smoke groaned in soul-deep agony.Hewould ratherbe burned than to hear hisdaughter’s wailing criesagain.

“I think I never taughtyou an odd fact about ourkind. It seems the Haunténare well known for bloodyfeuds within their families.Koráywasthefirstofus.She

wanted no such weakness inher own family line so shelaid a spell over thegenerations. We call it thetyranny of the firstborn.Youfeel it, don’t you? Anunbreakable love for thisfirstbornchild?”

Smoke glanced up for amoment, wondering: Did hissister Takis hold such poweroverDehan?Could it be so?Thenhe rememberedhimselfand looked down again. In a

tiny, cold corner of his hearthe felt a terrible admirationfor his father. This was aperfect spell. If thepunishment had been visitedagainst himself he wouldhave fought it, but laidagainst his daughter—hecouldnotendureit.Hewouldobey the Trenchant in allthings. It was as simple asthat.

His father had circledfully around him. Smoke

stared at Dehan’s boots,crushing the grass that grewbefore the cottage door. In aplaintive whisper he asked,“What have you done withKetty?”

Wassheevennowlyingdeadwithinthedoor?

“Sheisdeadtoyou,”theTrenchant said with coldmalice. “As you condemnedme to live alone, so Icondemnyou.”

As the Trenchant

steppedaside,Smokeriskedaglanceat thedoor,but itwasbright outside and so darkwithin that he could seenothing. The hearth spiritmighthavetoldhimthetruthofit,butofcoursethehearthspirit would have long sincefledinterror.

Still, he smelled noblood.

“Up,” the Trenchantsaid. “Take up your sword,andfollow.”

Smokewasonhisfeetatonce, sword inhand.Hecastone longing glance at thecottagedoor,buthedarednotgoinsidetolook.

Dehan was walkingaway.Smokelookeddownattheswordinhishand,thenupathisfather’sretreatingback.“Youdon’tfearmeatall.”

Dehan turned to lookback with a curious gaze.“ShouldI?”

Smoke answered

truthfully. “No, my father.Notatall.”

~

Fmanyyearsmyfather,theTrenchant,fearedhis

childrenwouldbethelastgenerationoftheBidden.Smokeprovedhimwrong,andfiredhisambition.IfSmokecouldgetachildwiththeprettyshepherdgirl,whycouldn’t

Dehandothesame?Inmyfather’seyesSmokewasneverreallyoneofus—whichisasorryexcusetocovethisson’swife.

WhatPassesForTruthThey walked for most of anhour. Now and then Brittafussed, but each time theTrenchant spoke to her in asoothing voice and shequieted.Smoke felt betrayed.Didn’t she miss him? Didn’tshemiss Ketty?Whywasn’tshe crying in hunger? Thenhe realized, “You put a spellon her, didn’t you? So shewon’tcry.”

“She’s my daughternow,” the Trenchantanswered. “There’s no needforhertosuffer.”

All the rage Smoke hadlocked away came roaring tothe surface. “She’s mydaughter! Why do want heranyway? You have twodaughters!Brittaismine.”

The Trenchant turnedaround. Smoke stopped too,and for a few seconds theystaredatoneanother.“Listen

closely,” the Trenchant said.“Thischild ismine.Nearlyayearago,Ispentafewnightswith a young Binthy girl.Britta is the fruitof that tryst—”

“Itisn’ttrue!”“You thought to steal

her fromme,and thewomantoo.”

“It’salie!”“Youwill treat it as the

truth.Doyouunderstand?”“Where is my wife,

Ketty?”The baby caught her

breath. For a moment nosound issued from the roundastonishment of her mouth,and then she wailed. Smokefell to his knees. “I’m sorry!Don’thurther.Makeitstop.”

“It’s you who has hurther.Youmustmakeitstop.”

Between shudderingbreaths Smoke whispered,“Youwantmetodenyher?”

“I want you to obey

me.”The baby’s howls

reachedanewfrenzy.Smokethought that next she mustfaint,ifababycouldfaint.“Ihave no wife!” he screamed.“Ihavenochild.Thisiswhatpassesfortruth.”

Once again Britta grewquiet, soothed by theTrenchant’s gentle pats, hiscalming words. Shehiccupped for a time, andthenhersweeteyesclosedin

exhaustedsleep.“You will not speak of

the Binthy woman again,”Dehan said, bending to kissthe baby’s tender forehead.“Youwillnot lookather,oracknowledge her in anyway.”

Thensheisalive.It was something. And

still Smoke shuddered. Hefelt himself burning, and thehorror of his situation madeworse because he could not

see an end. He had felt theTrenchant’s spell and knewhecouldn’tbreakit;hedidn’thave the power or the skill.And he couldn’t plot againsthis father; the spell wouldknow.Andhecouldn’tattackhim head on; his preciousdaughtercouldnotendurethepunishment, and she woulddie. Smoke could see onlyonepathtofreedom,andthatwastokillher...butthathewouldneverdo.

“At least tellmewhat itisyouwantfromme!”

“Iwant your obedience,justasIdidbefore,onlynowIwillhaveit.”

“My father. I will fightin any battle, but I pray toyou, do not send me toslaughter innocents. I cannotdoit.”

“Of course you can.You’vedone it, andyouwilldoitagain,asIseefit.”

They went on after that.Smoke stumbled, hardlyaware of the ground beneathhis feet. After a time—andwithout any true plan—hisreflection began to dissolve,and the soft rhythm of hissteps gave way to silence.Dehan noticed. “You willwalk,” he toldSmoke. “As amanismeanttowalk.UnlessI send you forth, you willexist always in this properreflection. You are a man,

and not aHauntén that caresnothingforanycreatureotherthanitself.”

Hours passed. Eventuallythey crossed the forest road,but Dehan didn’t turn tofollow it.Heheadedon, intothe western reaches of theWild Wood. If they kept onand didn’t become lost, theywould eventually reach the

low, jaggedmountainsof theEast Tangle that guarded theeastern boundary of thePuzzle Lands. Dehan, ofcourse, would not becomelost, and he knew every trailthrough the mountains. Butthe journey would requiredays.Brittacouldnotsurvivesolongwithouthermother.

Then the threadstrembled, bringing to Smokean awareness of othersnearby, and Ketty among

them. You will not look ather. He sensed that she wassad, and that she’d beenweeping.

A few minutes later hefollowedDehantoameadowwhere horses were hobbledand set to graze. A party ofKoráyos warriors rested justwithin the shadeof the trees.Smoke looked themover.Heknewmostof thembyname,but it didn’t matter. Theywere Dehan’s men. They

stood up at sight of theTrenchant, calling outgreetings. Britta stirred,disturbed by the noise. Shebleatedweakly.Kettypushedherway past thewarriors, tostare across the meadow.Smoke’s heart raced, but heremembered Dehan’scommandandlookedaway.

Ketty did not share hisrestraint. “Smoke!” shescreamed,whilethemenheldher back. “Smoke, help me,

please! They took our babyaway!”

Smokestoppedwalking.He stared at the ground,thinking about the men whowereholdingontoKetty.Hewantedtocuttheirhandsoff!Howdaretheytouchher?Buthe wanted them to hold herjust thesamebecausehewasafraid ofwhatwould happenifshecamerunningtohim.

Rage took over hervoice. “Let me go!” she

screamedathercaptors.“Letmego!”

But then she wailed, ahigh, frantic sound andmoments later she wassobbing,“Mybaby,mybaby,mybaby...”

Smoke risked a glanceand saw that Dehan haddelivered Britta to her. Nowthat she was in her mother’sarms, Britta started cryingtoo,butasababyshouldcry,indignant and hungry—not

withscreamsofagony.Smoke heard Dehan

speaking to Ketty. “Care forour child,” he commandedher,“butdonotcalloutagaintomydemonson.Hewillnotansweryou.”

After Ketty nursed the baby,the Koráyos warriorsmounted their horses. Dehanput Ketty behind him on his

ownhorse,withBrittanestledagainst her in a sling. Theysetout,withSmokefollowingon foot behind them. Onlywhen it was too dark to seedid Dehan call a halt. Theycamped, setting out again atfirstlight.

As Smoke walked, hecontemplatedhisoptions.

As he walked, he had a

lotoftimetothink.At first he thought only

ofspillingblood—hisfather’sblood, especially. Heenvisioned his sword’s bladeslicing through the musclesand veins and bones of theTrenchant’s neck. Heenvisioned it stabbing himthrough his corrupt heart.Smoke lived these momentsin his mind, over and overagain,inevermoregruesomedetail . . . thoughofcourseit

was only daydreaming.Nothing in his situation waschanged.

Maybe (his thoughtswerewandering)maybeifhemurdered the Trenchantwithgreatspeed, thebindingspellwould be shattered with theTrenchant’slife?

Maybe.But if not—and it

seemedmorelikelytoSmokethat the spell would endure,just as old spells cast long

agobyKoráystillendured—then Britta would no doubtdieinsomehorriblefashion.

Maybe it was evenpossibletodieofpain.

So Smoke’s bloodyvengeance remained only adaydream, and theTrenchantwas safe from his wrath atleastforthepresenttime.

EventuallySmokebeganto consider other blood thatmightbespilled.HowhadtheTrenchant found him

anyway? He’d been safelyhidden in theWildWoodforthebetterpartoftwoyears.

His thoughts fixed firston Ketty’s father. Had heglimpsed Smoke, orsuspected his existence afterall? Smoke regretted notkilling him and hiscompanion. If Smoke hadn’tbeen so enamored of Kettyand eager to please her, hewould have certainly killedboth men, just on principle.

Hewouldkillthemnowifhecould, because it would bebettertokillsomeonethannoone.

Of course, he had gonetoNefión.

His pace didn’t falter,but dread squeezedhis heart.Had that venture alerted theTrenchant? It had to be . . .and yet he had seen—andbeen seen by?—only twopeople when he was there.Thewisewoman had known

him,buthehadpreservedherinnocence with the point ofhis sword. The merchantthough,shewhohadsoldhimthe cloth . . . she hadn’trecognized him. She’dthought him only a namelessforest spirit, so he’d let herlive.Hedidn’tliketomurderwomen.

ButIshouldhave!AndIwill.

Smoke was under astricture not to murder the

people of the Puzzle Lands,but Nefión was beyond theborder.

Smoke resolved to visitthe treacherous woman assoonaschanceallowed.

But chance didn’t allowitthatday,orthenext.Andashe doggedly followed thehorsemen on through theWildWoodhespentlessandless time dreaming of hisfather’sbloodyend,orofhisforthcoming murder of the

Nefión merchant. Suchcomfortingenthusiasmscouldnot endure against the bitterconclusion that he was welland truly trapped within hisfather’s binding spell. So hestopped thinking altogetherandjustwalkedon.

Smokehatedwalking.What pointwas there in

walking when he could

follow the threads thatformedtheweftoftheworld?

He’d had to walk far attimeswhenhewastrainingasa Koráyos warrior, and onthat blessed day he’d metKetty he’d walked for milesand miles with her throughthe Wild Wood, but thoseweretheonlytimeshe’deverwalked for any real distance.Even carrying game back tothecottagehe’dneverwalkedmorethanthreeorfourmiles.

Butnowhehad towalkallday,everyday.

It was anotherpunishment inflicted by hisfather.

Dehan couldn’t run thethreads. Smokewas the onlyoneinfivegenerationsoftheBidden who could. Runningthe threadswas a trait of theHauntén who were theancestors of their cursedfamily—but no one had everexplainedtoSmokewhysuch

a trick had lain quiet for somany generations beforewakinginhim.

Dehan had gone aheadwith Ketty and his soldiers.Smoke hobbled after them,following a trail of hoofprints and manure. It wasn’tevenmidmorning,butalreadyhe was footsore and weary.His foul mood was madeworse as he reflected on thehours that remained beforethe sun would go down. So

whenhecameoutofadensestand of trees and into apartial clearing, and saw asingle rider looking back athim as if waiting for him tocatch up, Smoke’s sullen,simmering temper flashed.SuchapleasureitwouldbetokillthisservantofDehan!Hishandrose to touch thehiltofhissword...

Butafteranotherstephegave it up. He was not tomurder the people of the

Puzzle Lands. As Smokedrew nearer he realized themanwhowaitedforhimwashis friend, Ekemian. Or hisformer friend? They’d beeninthesametrainingregiment,but did that mean anythingnow?

“Former friend” seemedmostlikely.

Smokelookedupathim.Theyeyedeachotherwarily.Ekemianwas a brown-hairedyouth tanned dark by the

summersun.He’dacquiredafuzz of beard since the lasttime Smoke had seen him.“No one likes it,” Ekemiansaid, his voice low andguarded. “We want you toknowthat.”

Smoke’s gaze shiftedback to the trail. He kept uphis hobbling pace, passingwithin inches of the horsewithout looking up again.Ekemion spoke from behindhim.“Youneverdidanything

morethanwhattheTrenchantordered. . .exceptwhenyoushowedmercytotheenemy.. . as any of us would havedone.”

His words bit intoSmoke like a hook. Despitehis resolve to keep silent heturned back, and in a lowgrowl he said, “They werenottheenemy.”

They were innocentwomen, innocent children,with the misfortune of

inhabiting a village—onevillage ofmany—thatDehanhad decreed must disappear.It was the Trenchant's tacticto leave no haven for theenemy. Any border villagewhere the Lutawan soldiersdared quarter was destroyedutterly. If the warriors werecaught there, all the better,but in any case every man,every woman, every childwas to be slaughtered, thehousesandfieldsburned,and

the livestock driven away tofeed the Trenchant’s army.The Lutawan soldiers mightstill seek shelter for a night,buttheyknewthatanyvillagethey stopped at would besweptawayasifbythewrathofgods.

Or the wrath of theBidden. It was Smoke’s giftto come without warning, toslaywithademon’sspeed...andthatfirsttime,atthatfirstvillage, he’d done just as

Dehancommanded.Buthe’dtold Ketty the truth, that hedid not care for theslaughtering of women andchildren, and the next timehe’dmade sure that a younggirl escaped with her babysister, and after that, he letmanyofthewomenslippast,though not all. Those thatescapedweregratefultohim.Thatwasthestrangestpartofit, that they thanked him forhismercy,insteadofdamning

himforhisviolence.Smoke had let them go,

but they did not go away. Itwasn’t longbeforehe startedhearing their prayers.Especiallyatnight,hewouldhear their voices as theyspoke of their devotion tohim,astheyprayedforhimtocome and avenge them—notagainst himself or theKoráyos soldiers who hadburned their villages. Theybeggedhimtousehisbloody

sword against their ownmen—those soldiers, husbands,fathers—who had wrongedthem.Andintheirprayersthewomen of the south namedhimDismay.

Smoke had gone a fewtimes in secret to do theirbidding.

Ekemian pressed hisheelsagainsthishorseandsetit walking toward Smoke. “Ifeelasyoudo,thattheywerenottheenemy,butIknowthe

Trenchant iswiser than I am—”

“Don’t say more.” Hecouldn’t bear to hearEkemian make it out asrightful. Smoke well knewthe difference between rightandwrong.Everyoneknewit.Itwasthedifferencebetweenwrong and an even greaterwrong that people wouldendlesslydebate.

Smokeknewithadbeenwrong—an evil deed—to

murder the wise woman ofNefión, but for him it wouldhave been a greater evil tofalter inprotectingKettyandtheir child. But after all hehad failed to protect Ketty.She belonged to theTrenchant now and Britta aswell, so he’d murdered thewise woman for nothing andnodoubtshehaddamnedhimfor it. So be it. He was ademonafterall.

Ekemioncaughtupwith

him. Smoke could smell hisfear. He could see it in thegleam of sweat on his face.ButEkemionwasnocoward,and he honored friendship.“Come, Smoke. Ride withme. The Trenchant has notsaidyoumustwalkthewholeway.”

Smoke shook his head.“Hewill say it. Don’t tempthisanger.”

Ekemion did a poor jobof hiding his relief. “I’m

sorry,myfriend.”“Youshouldrideon.”But Ekemion held his

horseback,forcingittowalkat Smoke’s slower pace.Something else was on hismind. “Smoke, is the childtruly—”

Smoke turned and drewhis sword from his backscabbardwithsuchspeedthatbefore Ekemion knew quitewhat had happened, the tipwas pressed against his

throat. “It is the truth,”Smokerasped.

Ekemion sat in perfectstillness until Smokeremembered himself, andwithdrew the blade. “All ischanged,” he said. “Do notcallmeSmokeanymore.”

“What is it then weshouldcallyou?”

Smokeslippedtheswordback into its scabbard. “MynameisDismay.”

Heset towalkingagain,

andafterafewstepsheheardthetrampofthehorsebehindhim. In a few more steps,Ekemion rode past. Smokeglanced up to meetEkemion’s troubledgaze . . .but truly, there was nothingmoretosay.

TheFortressof

SamerhenTakis went down to thecourtyard with her sisterTayvalwhenwordcame thatthe Trenchant was returning.They waited on the steps ofBiddenHall,lookingoutpastthe fortress gates that hadonce served to hold offarmies, but that Takis hadneverseenclosed.ThecityofSamerhen spread out in thevalley beyond, bright in the

afternoon. On the road, agroupofsoldiersapproached,riding in no particular order,soittookTakisafewsecondstopickouther father in theirmidst. “Doyou seeSmoke?”she asked her sister, butTayvalshookherhead.

In through the gate thefirstofthesoldierscame,andthen Dehan. Only then didTakis see the woman ridingbehindhim.Shewasaprettything, very young, with dark

tangled hair and dark eyes,dressed in blue silk dustyfrom the road.She rodewithher left arm around Dehan’swaist for balance. With herrightshesupportedababy ina sling. Takis suffered asudden, dire fear. “Is Smokedead?” she whispered,turning again to look at hersister. “Surely he wouldn’thave given this woman upunless...”

Again Tayval shook her

head.WhenDehan rodeup to

the foot of the stairway, thesisters descended to meethim.

TheTrenchantwasnotayoungman,buthewasstrongand hale still. He swung hislegoverthehorse’sneckanddropped nimbly to theground. Then he turned tohelp the girl down. Shelooked exhausted andfrightened. When her feet

touchedthegroundshenearlylost her balance, so thatDehanhadtosteadyher.

“Greetings, my father,”Takis said, with all thewarmthshecouldforge.

Dehan turned,acknowledging her with aslight bow and a kiss on thecheek. Next he went toTayval and kissed her too.“Success,” he whispered toher. Tayval of course madenoanswer.Sheneverdid.

“My father,”Takis said,with a worried glance at thegirl. “You haven’t broughtmybrotherhome?”

“He’s coming. Slowerthan the rest of us.”Dehan’sgazewasadmiring,covetous,as it lingeredonthegirl.Herbaby stirred, its tiny fistswaving. She looked relievedby the distraction, and spokesoftly to the child. Dehansmiled.“Takis,thisisKetty.Iwantyoutocareforher,and

teach her the ways of ourhousehold.”

“Greetings, Ketty,”Takissaid.“IwelcomeyoutoBiddenHall.”

Takis felt herself ondangerousground.Surelythiswas Smoke’s woman? Butthen, what was the meaningbehind her father’s covetousglance? She weighed herwords carefully andconcluded that only politeignorancewould do. “Whose

childisthis?”Ketty looked up, fixing

Dehan with a hostile gazefrom behind a veil of dirtyhair.

“Britta is mine,” Dehansaid with a half-smile—andwhy not? They both knew itwas a pretense, but it was apretensethatDehanwishedtoplay. “I shared a few nightswithKettyalmostayeargoneby now. She was in troublewith her family for it so she

ranaway.”“And Smoke found

her?”“Mydemon son ismost

resourceful.”Takis risked a glance

past thegates, praying to seeSmoke coming, but the roadwas empty. She turned toKetty, and with a forcedsmile she held out her hand.“Come,Ketty.Ahotbathandawarm supperwill help youfeelbetter.”

Ketty brushed her hairout of her face. Takis wassurprised to seeher facewasnow composed, her angerhidden.“Ithankyouforyourkindness.” She turned toDehan, speaking with coolneutrality. “Would you handmedownmysatchel?”

“Oh yes, your preciousbooks.” Dehan took a bagfrom the horse, handing it toTakistocarry.

Ketty did not look at

Dehan again, but went withTakisupthestairs.

Tayval followed closelybehindthem.

Kettystoodat thecenterofaroom larger than her father’shouse,withBrittainherarmsandherskirtheavywithdust.She felt wrapped up inconfusion and bitter anger.Smoke had betrayed her!

Abandonedher!Givenherupto his father without a wordof protest. She was furiouswith the Trenchant too,though she knew that wasabsurd. Who was she to beangrywithsuchagreatman?She was no one. A girlwithout family, a runawayfrom the Binthy shepherdtribe. She knew she ought tobe grateful he hadn’t simplytaken Smoke away, leavingher lost and alone in the

forest.He’deventriedhardtobekind toher (if kidnappingwaseverkind).

Butwhy? Nothingmadesense! Dehan had claimedher. He’d told his men, hisdaughters, his people—everyone!—that Britta washischild—warningherthatifshespokeotherwisehe’dtakeBrittaaway.Andhe’dsaidhewouldmarryher.Ifshecameto his bed, if she conceivedanotherchild,hewouldmake

herhiswife.“Why?” she’d pleaded.

“Why me? I am Smoke’swife!”

“I have warned you nottospeakofhimagain.”

He was the Trenchant,guardianofthePuzzleLands.Tobehiswifemeantthatshewouldliveinaroomlikethisall her life, enjoying warmbaths and clean sheets andfine meals, and maybe evenservants. And other things?

Who knew? Not Ketty. ShewasaBinthyshepherdgirl.

And still she felt aboutthe Trenchant as she hadabout the widower—it wasnot his bed she wanted towarm!

“Where is Smoke?” shewhispered, daring to speakhisname for the first time indays, now that theTrenchantwasnowhereabout.

The twins, Takis andTayval,hadaccompaniedher

to this room. Tayval wasstandingsilentatthewindow,looking out on the greenpasture beyond the fortresswall while Takis instructedthe servants. But at Ketty’squestion, both sisters lookedaround in alarm. “Ketty, youmustbeverycautious,”Takissaid.

“But it’s not true whathe—”

“Hush! He is theTrenchant. He’s not an

ordinaryman.”“He can hear me?

Here?”Takis shrugged. Then

she glanced at the servants.When she looked back atKetty, a false smile was onher face. “May I hold thebabyforyou,whileyougotobathe?”

Smokecamewiththedarkof

the evening. Two soldierswere guarding the fortressgate.Hedared themwithhisgaze to raiseachallenge,butthey’d been forewarned.Oneacknowledgedhimwithanodashelimpedpast.

The courtyard wasempty, but from thebarrackshe heard a merry guitarplaying, and the sound ofmen’s laughter.He hesitated,wondering where he wasexpected to go. He hadn’t

lived in Samerhen since hisfather sent him away totrainingwhenhewasten,buthekneweveryhallway,everyroom of Bidden Hall. Heknew the Trenchant wouldlikelybein thelibraryat thishourandforafewsecondsitpleased him to imagine hissword slitting his father’sthroat and the Trenchant’sblood spewing across theshelvesofbooksandfloodingover the carpets. But it was

onlyanothersweetdaydream.The torches had not yet

been lit, and the shadowswere thick, but when thethreads shifted Smoke knewsomeone had come to thethreshold of the hall.“Smoke?” Ekemion called tohim. Then he correctedhimself,“Dismay?”

Smoke saidnothing,butEkemion was accustomed tothat in his new task ofconveying Dehan’s wishes.

“There’s a room ready foryouupstairs.You’re tobatheand dress, and then report tothe dining hall to greet yoursisters.”

Smokewaitedinsilence,suspectingthiswasnotall.

“The Trenchant forbidsyoutoenterthebarracksortosocializewithanysoldier.”

Smoke snorted hiscontempt, but he still saidnothing as Ekemion led himupthestairstohisroom.

By the time dinner cameKetty was clean, her blackhairwashedandbrushed,andher road-stained blue dressexchanged for a clean frockof wine-red silk. Britta wasasleepafternursing,butKettyrefused to leave her in thecare of a servant as Takissuggested, so they took thechildwith themto thedininghall.Tayvalmet themon theway.

The dining hall had a

platformatoneend,with thehigh table where the Biddensat.Facing itwere fourothertables at right angles to thehigh table, for staff andvisiting officers. Word hadgone around of the day’sevents, andmost of the seatswere taken. Heads turned asKetty came in and anadmiring murmur sweptthroughtheroom.

Dehanwasalreadyatthehigh table. He stood up to

greetthem,directingKettytoa seat beside him. Takis satonherotherside,andTayvalnext to her. An empty seatremainedatthetable’send.

Dinner was served, firstto the low tables, then to thehigh. The last plate was laiddown at the empty seat nextto Tayval, when Smokewalked in. He entered at thefar end of the hall, and aspeople looked up and caughtsight of him, silence washed

over the assembly. Takisstartedtorise, toruntogreethim, but Tayval laid a handonhersandshookherhead.

Smoke strode betweenthe tables, lookingatnoone.He was freshly bathed, hishoney-gold hair neatly tiedbehind his neck. He wore awhite tunic and gray pants:subdued colors that suitedneither his beauty nor hismood. Takis shuddered,feelinghissullenfuryvibrate

throughthethreads.Hewalkeduptothehigh

table. Only when he reacheditdidheraisehisgaze,firsttotheTrenchantwithaglaresofullofhatethatTakisreadiedherself to intervene. Sheknew Smoke well. He wasnot a man given to restraint.Yet he only executed aperfect bow. Then he turnedtoher.“Greetings,mysister,”he said in avoice raspywiththerageheheldincheck.

“Greetings,” sheansweredashebowedtoher.

HerepeatedtheritualforTayval who only nodded,sayingnothingasever.

Smoke did not speak toKetty.Hedidn’tevenlookather. Takis risked a glance atthe girl. She was staring atSmoke, her eyes wide, theexpression on her facesomewherebetween furyanddesperation. Then theTrenchantsaid,“Takethelast

seat and join your family inourmeal.”

To the astonishment ofTakis, Smoke did it. Hesteppedupontotheplatform,taking the empty seat besideTayval,who turned towatchhim as he picked up a fork.He met her gaze. There wasthe glint of a question in hiseyes, but neither spoke, andafteramomentSmoketurnedto his plate, and Tayvallookedaway.

Takis heard the whisperof a thought stirring in thebackofhermind—itwashersister’sfamiliarvoice:Aspellbinds him. In a voice onlyTakis could hear, Tayvalwentontodescribetheshapeofthespellanditsdireeffect,and despite her horror, Takisfelt an admiration for herfather’sruthlessness.

Theyhadbeenatdinneronlya few minutes when Brittawokeandstarted tocoo.Thegirl who was serving at thehigh table stopped to admireher. “Oh, ma’am, she’s sosweet.Sopretty.”

Ketty forced a smile.Takis could tell she wasblinking back tears. MaybeDehan noticed it too. “Ketty,let me hold Britta while youeat.”

At first Ketty hesitated,

but thenshehandedthebabyto Dehan. He settled Brittaagainst his chest and pattedher back. Then he looked atTakis with a pleased smile.“Britta is such a good baby.Rarelycries.SheremindsmeofyouandTayval.”

At the far end of thetable, Smoke stood up.Without a word he steppeddown from the platform, andwith gaze downcast hecrossed in front of the high

table and left by the neardoor.

Kettywassostartledsherose from her seat, but at asternlookfromDehanshesatdownagain.“Eatsomething,”heencouragedher.

Takis pushed her chairback and stood up, leavingher plate untouched. “Pardonme, my father. There’sbusiness I must see to.”Ignoring Dehan’s sour look,she followed Smoke out the

door.His trail was easy to

follow. His fury had left thethreads humming so that sheknewhehadgoneupstairs totheroomDehanhadassignedhim.WhenSmokewas little,and Takis and Tayval hadplayed at being his mothers,he’d lived in their apartmentand slept in their bed.Through those early years,the Trenchant had neveracknowledged he had a son.

Then Smoke turned ten andtheTrenchantcametocollecthim, taking him to FarNegarum, where Smokebegan his training as aKoráyoswarrior.

Takis started up thestairs, but she’d gone onlytwo steps when a servantcalled to her. “Takis, adeputation has arrived fromChieftain Rennish. They saythe nature of theirmission ismost urgent.” The servant

hurried closer, adding in awhisper, “And for youalone.”

Takis looked infrustration up the stairs, thenback again at the servant.“Whatisitabout?”

“That’s all I know,ma’am.”

Shesighed.Rennishwasneither foolish nor frivolous.If her deputation claimedtheirmissionwasurgent,thenitwas.“Wherearethey?”

“Atthestable.”She strode out into the

night, hoping it was nothingsourgentthatshewouldneedto leave for the borderlandsthatnight.

The stable door stoodopen, agleam with lanternlight.Nearlyadozensoldiersloitered inside, all of themhusky men, front linefighters. Most tended theirhorses, but three stood guardoveramanwhosewristswere

shackledtoachainaroundhiswaist. His black hair andbeard were both long andunkempt, and his face had athin, hollow look, but hestoodwithastraightback,hisgaze fixed on her from themoment she walked in thestabledoor.

It took her longer torecognizehim.Whenshedidsucha shock ran throughherthatshehadtoputoutahandto steady herself against the

wall. “It can’t be,” shewhispered.

One of Rennish’sofficers approached her;handed her a folded paper.She took it blindly, her gazestillfixedonNedgalvin.Thena horse snorted and sheremembered herself. SheunfoldedthepaperandfoundittobealetterfromRennish.Holding it under a lantern,she read it, then folded itagain and slipped it into a

pocket.Thisisnotbychance.For a moment she

thought Tayval had spoken,but thethoughtwasherown.Shelookedattheofficerwhohad given her the letter.“Unchainhim.”

The officer reactedwithshock. “Ma’am, he’sdangerous.Violent—”

Takis walked up toNedgalvin and asked him,“Areyou?”

He nodded, his eyesagleam with anticipation.“Yes.”

Shehesitated, taking themeasure of his mood in thethreads that defined him.Thenshesaid,“Unchainhim.Ifhecan’tconducthimselfasacivilizedman,killhim.”

This elicited severalsmiles of anticipation, butwhen the chains fell to theground, Nedgalvindisappointed his escort. He

made no move; onlycontinued to watch her withperfectpoise.

Takisspokeagaintotheofficer. “Chieftain Rennishhas instructed you on thediscretion this missionrequires.”

“Yes, ma’am. All themenareawareofit.”

“That discretion willcontinueindefinitely.”

“We understand,ma’am.”

“I thank you for yourservice.”

“Andyou,ma’am.”She nodded. Then she

looked again at Nedgalvin.“Willyoucomewithme?”

His composure slippedforjustamomentashecastawarygazeat themenaroundhim. Then, gathering hiscourage, he stepped over hisfallenchainsandwalkedwithhertothedoor.

Shespokeverysoftlyastheycrossed the courtyardtogether. “After readingRennish’s letter, I’mnotsureyou value your life. If youwant to end it, just let myfather discover you. NoLutawanman has set foot inSamerhen since the days ofKoráy.Ifhefindsyou,hewillkill you. There will benothing I can do to protectyou.”

“Youtriedtokillme.”

“You betrayed mytrust.”

He nodded. “I’ve hadtimetothinkonthat.”

“And?”“I’m a short-sighted

fool.”Bypassing the main

doors to the hall, Takis tookNedgalvin in by the gardengate. “I have many lovers,”shetoldhimsoftly.“Buttheygenerally don’t look as ill-used as you. It’s best if no

one sees you.” Then shelaughedatherself. “Ihaven’tsnuckamanupthebackstairssinceIwasfifteen!”

“Don’tsmileatmeas ifI’myourprettywhore.”

Her smile widened.“You’re not pretty,” sheassured him. And still therewas something electric abouthim that she could notexplain.

~

TDreadHammerrarelyoffersmercyandiscontenttoletuslearnfromourown

foolishness.Iknowthis,andstillsometimesIpraythatthehammerblowwillbesoftenedandsomewaywillbefoundtosaveusfromourselves.

DismaySmoke lay in thedarknessofhis room.He had not lookedat Ketty—not once, duringtheeveningmeal—buthehadfelt her presence in thethreads, her burning anger.Shewastreacheroustoblamehim! She was foolish! Shedidn’t understand the penaltyhe faced.But then itwas theTrenchant’s plan to confuseherandturnheragainsthim.

Even now, when hedaredtotouchthethreads,thelow, coldwhineofher angerreachedhim. It rakedathim.He wanted to scream at herthat she was wrong. It wasnot his fault.Howhorrible itwasnottobeheard!

The room door clickedopened.Hewassostartledhegrabbedhissword,whichlayinitsscabbardbesidehim.Inaninstanthewasonhisfeet,blade drawn—only to

discover it was Tayval whohadcomein.Inherhandshecarried a candlestick with asingleburning taper.Beneathher silk nightgown her bodylookedsweetandslender;herblack hair was loose aroundher shoulders.Sheclosed thedoor behind her, then turnedto give him an admonishinglook.

His hands shook as hereturned the sword to itsscabbard. Itwas all he could

do to shackle his rage. Thethreads howled with itstension.Theroomgrewhot.

He lay down again,holdingtheswordagainsthischest, his heart pounding soharditmustsurelysoonbreakfree.

Tayval blew out thecandle and lay down besidehim. Her body felt cool andsoothing where it touchedhim. After a while hewhispered to her, “I don’t

wanttoloveheranymore.”Tayval caught his hand

andsqueezeditinthedark.Slowly, very slowly,

some of his tension seepedaway.

He was adrift, on theedgeofsleep,whenheheard,from out of nowhere, a faintand faraway whisper ofvoices.

Women’svoices.Nonethatheknew.Hisgriptightenedonthe

hilt of his sword. He didn’ttry to stop up his ears. Heknew he couldn’t block thevoices of women who knewhisnameandcalledtohiminprayer and in truth he didn’twantto.

“Dismay,” theywhispered.“Avengeme.”

Their prayers wereseductive, compelling. Helongedtoanswerthem.Itwasabitterthingtospillinnocentblood, but the blood of the

guilty was warm andcomforting against his skin.So compelling was thesummons thathewouldhavegone in that moment—dissolved his reflection andrun the threads—except thatTayval laid her hand againsthis armandwhispered inhismind,Stay.

He squeezed his eyesshut. What was he doing?What had he almost done?TheTrenchant had forbidden

himtorunthethreadsexceptat his command. If he hadgonejustnowthepunishmentwouldnotbevisitedonhim.

He shuddered. Tayvalfelt it,andturnedonhersidetostrokehischest,justasshehadwhenhewasababy.

He resolved to doalwaysjustwhatwasrequiredof him.Hemust never againforget himself. Not everagain.

On the next day Dehan senthim south to ChieftainRennish,whohadrecentlyre-joined her company ofirregulars deep inside theborderlands. Smoke ran thethreads, seeking out herfamiliar presence. Hisreflection took shapealongside a trail that woundaround one of the forestedhills dotting a landscape thatwas otherwise a flat sea ofwheat and barley fields. He

waitedforthelineofriderstofindhim.

Rennish’s company hadno idea he was coming. Thelead soldier came around abendinthetrail,ridingwithabow in her hands, the arrownocked. She called out awarning themomentshesawhim, drawing the bowstringbacktoherear.

“Stop,” someone behindhercalled.“It’sSmoke.”

Rennishmusthaveheard

his name because she camecantering up the line.“Smoke!” She trotted herhorse up to him. Then shedismounted, studying himwith wary eyes. “I didn’tthink you would ever comeback.”

He reached into hispocket, pulled out a letterfrom the Trenchant, andhandedittoher.Sheunfoldedthe thick paper; read itquickly.Smokefeltheranger

humming in the threads. Sheturned back to the line.“Bringupasparehorse!”

She turned again toSmoke. “Ride with us untiltheevening.ThenI’llexplainwhere you need to go. Youalready know what you’reexpectedtodothere?”

Henodded.“Right,then.”Asoldierrodeupwitha

riderlesshorseintow.Smoketightened the cinch on the

saddle before he mounted.Thenthelinesetoffagain.

The Trenchant would neverhaveanarmylargeenoughtodirectly attack the LutawanKingdom, so he’d focusedinstead on a campaign ofharassment and terror. ThelandimmediatelysouthoftheSéferi Mountains had beenuninhabited for as long as

anyone could remember. Itwas a theater where rivalmilitias hunted each otheramong the groves andchaparral.

But twentymiles farthersouth the land was so fertilethat, despite the hostilities,villages and farms werecommon.Tribalpeopleslivedthere. They observed thereligionandcustomsdictatedby theLutawanking, but fordecades theyhad traded their

wheat, barley, beef, andmuttonnorthaswellassouth,andwhilebattleswerefoughtin their fields, the villagersweremostlyleftalone.

Nolonger.Three years ago the

Lutawan king had doubledthe number of his troops inthe borderlands. TheTrenchant had responded byattacking the villagers. Hedecreed that any villageoffering shelter to Lutawan

soldierswouldbeburnedandits residents slaughtered.Scouts spread news of hisdecree. The nomadicmerchants who roved amongthevillagescarriedwordofittoo, though some weremurderedfor their troublebyvillagers who thought theycould avoid their fate bysilencingthemessenger.

For every villagedestroyed, another wasabandoned, but the farmers

who dared to remain wererewarded with a high pricefor their harvest, makingthem defiant in their resolveto stay. Meanwhile,merchants coming up fromthe south reported riots asgrain prices in the citiesdoubled.

Chaos and strife withinthe Lutawan Kingdom wasmuch to the Trenchant’sliking,sowithhisdemonsonagain at hand, he had

resolvedtoexpandhiswarofterror against the villagers.Dismaywastostrikeatnight,without warning, withoutreason, a merciless anduncaring death spirit thatnever left witnesses orsurvivors.

That evening, as theirregulars set up camp,Smoke crouched withRennishoveramapdrawnonheavypaper.Sheshowedhimwhere they were, the layout

of the surrounding hills, andthefarmholdingsthatwereinthe area. She pointed outseven, all within fifteenmiles. The only thing thatdistinguishedthesefarmswasthat theyhadneighborscloseby, who would notice whenthe buildings went up inflames andwhowould cometoinvestigate.Somewouldbeso terrifiedbywhat theysawthat they would flee—andtheir terror would infect

others.OnlySmokecouldmove

with ghostlike stealthbetween the farms, so hewentalone.

He arrived first at aprosperous holding, with alarge farmhouse, a barn, athreshing floor and sturdystockpensall ingood repair.Hebeganhisworkinsidethefarmhouse. There he foundthree men, five women, andchildren of many ages. He

slaughtered most of them astheysleptandtherestastheyfled outside. Then he killedthedogsandsetthebuildingsonfire.

Itwentmuchthesameatthenextfarmholding,andthenext, until only one of theseven remained. There hediscovered the farmers werealready dead, laid out in theyardalongsidethedogswhilea contingent of Lutawantroopsmadeuseof thehouse

and thewomen.The soldiersmadeagoodeffort todefendthemselves and Smoke wascut twice before he’d killedthe last of them.Thewomenknewhisnamebutheignoredtheir pleas and murderedthem anyway because it wasBrittawhowouldsuffer ifhedidnotfulfilltheTrenchant’sorders.

SmokereturnedtoSamerhen,a plume of gray vapor thatsifted through the walls of aback hallway before formingup intowhathedidnotwantto be: a filthy, exhaustedkiller, blood-soaked, stinkingof burning houses andburning flesh, with oozingwounds in his back andshoulder that needed to bestitched. A manservantrounded a corner, took onelookathim,andturnedabout

andfled.Smoke fought the urge

to pursue him and cut himdown.

He was infected withfury. So tight with it hisbones might snap, his teethmight break under thetension. It wasn’t that hecared about the men he hadslaughtered—he didn’t—whethertheyweresoldiersorfarmersmadenodifferencetohim. But thewomen and the

children . . . The Trenchanthadmadeitveryclearthatnoone should survive, no oneescape, so Smoke killed thewomen too, but their bloodsickenedhimandtheirdeathsfueled the incandescent furythat burned inside his heart,burned so hot he feared hisself-control—never much tobegin with—would meltawayandthenanythingatallmighthappen.

Hestillheardthevoices,

though only faintly, as if hisears were poured full ofblood.

Itwasfoolishforanyoneto call on him. It wasdangerous.

Awoman’slow-throatedlaugh sounded, followed bythesplashofwater.

Takis.Smokestoodoutsidethe

closed door of the bathinghall. He’d come directly tothe hall on purpose, the

sooner to wash away thehorror that clung to him. Itdidn’t matter to him thatTakis was already using thehall,nodoubtinthecompanyof a lover. He grabbed thedoor latch and shoved itdown. That’s when he heardTakis’ lover speak. The haironthebackofhisneckstoodup.Hefroze,hishandonthelatch. He knew that voice. Itwas one he would neverforget.

Nedgalvin.

Thehourwasvery latewhenKettywasawakenedbyasofttap on her apartment door.Who would call at such atime? Her heartbeatquickened. She arose andpulled on a night shift,leavingBritta sleeping in thebed.

An elderly manservant

wasatthedoor.Kettycaughther breath. She’d asked himto watch for Smoke, thoughshe hadn’t really expectedthat he would. “Smoke hasreturned,ma’am.”

“Whereishe?”“At thebathinghall . . .

butyoushouldn’tgo.There’samadnessonhim.”

Kettynodded,whisperedher thanks, and closed thedoor.

Her heart was

thundering. Of course shewouldgo!Shehadtoknow.

Scurrying across theroom,shethrewoffhershift,and then hastily grabbedsome of the clothes she’dbeen given—fine breeches,an embroidered blouse. Shepiled a few pillows aroundBritta to ensure the babycouldn’t possibly roll out ofbed.Then,notbotheringwithshoes, she slipped out thedoorandwentsprintingdown

thehall.

Takis felt drunk on sex andjoy.

It was very, very late,andthehouseholdwasasleep,so she’d taken a chance andbrought Nedgalvin to thebathing hall where theyplayed games in the luscioushot water of the deep, brasssoaking tub. The tub was

round,itsfourquarterssetoffbysix-footcandlesticks,eachholdingupafatcandlewhoseflameworeahaloofsteam.

Takis lay back againstNedgalvin’s chest, dreamilywatchingoneoftheflamesashis fingers gently exploredhersacredgate.

Thatwaswhen thedoorwaskickedopenwithasharpbang. The startled flamesbobbed and nearly guttered.Takis sent a wave of water

sloshingoverthetub’srimasshe spun around—to seeSmoke pulling a chippedswordfromhisbackscabbardas he strode into the steamyhall.

Takis had always hatedtohearDehancallSmokehis“demon son,” but in thatmomentSmokelookedlikeademon with murder in hisglitteringgreeneyes.

Takis vaulted naked outofthewater.

She had no fear ofSmoke—he belonged to her,hewas her brother, her child—he would never hurt her.Nedgalvinwasanothermatter—a Lutawan soldier, in thefamilyhome.

“Smoke, stop!” shecommanded him, in her bestgeneral’svoice,whilebehindher a great rush and roar ofwater toldherNedgalvinhadleftthetub.

Smoke ignored her and

cut to the right in amove soswift he eluded her. One ofthe candles fell hissing intothebathassheturnedtoleapafterhim.Shethrewherarmsaround him, catching himfrom behind. “Stop it!” shescreamed in his ear, but heescaped her without astruggle by dissolving intointangiblesmoke.

Suddenly deprived ofanything to lean against, shefell, hitting the floor hard on

her kneeswhile the vapor ofher brother’s shiftingreflection spun in placearoundher.

“Run,Takis!”Nedgalvinwarned. He was crouchedonlyafewfeetaway,hiswetskinshiningasheheldoneofthetallbrasscandlestickslikeastaff inhishands.Hisgazewas fixed on the vapor,waitingforittobecomesolidagain. “This is Dismay, andhe’llbeback.Run,beforehe

killsyou.”She was up again,

plunging through the columnofvapor.“Hedoesn’twanttohurtme.He’safteryou.”Sheput herself betweenNedgalvin and Smoke. “Go!Back up! Get in the corner.I’llstophim.”

Nedgalvin grasped thegeneral idea, but he got thedetails wrong. He tried toshove her into the corner, asif she needed protection.

“Takis,that’sDismay!Ican’tletyou—”

“Yes you can and youwill!” She threw her nudebodyagainsthim,buthewashalf-again her weight. AsSmoke returned solid to theroom,hejustliftedheraside.

Smoke glared at them.The candlestick inNedgalvin’s hands was aformidable weapon. ThedemonspiritinSmoke’seyesglittered even brighter as he

gauged an angle of attack.Takis stepped out betweenthem. “Smoke, I said no. Idon’twantyoutokillhim!”

Hisscowlwasferocious.“Why not? This is theLutawan canker who nearlykilled me. How could youtakehimforalover?”

Takis threw a startledlook at Nedgalvin, but thensheshookherhead.Puzzleitout later! “You’realive,” sheinsisted. “And look at

yourself—covered in blood.Haven’t you killed enoughpeopleforoneday,Dismay?”

Surprise dimmed themurderous rage in his eyes.Takis shook her head indisgust.“OfcourseI’veheardthe stories. Just tellme, howdid you become him? Howdid you become Dismay? Ididn’t raise you to be amurderer!”

“I was born to it,”Smoke said as he edged

aroundher,hisswordheldatthe ready. “Didn’t I murderourmotheronmywayoutofthewomb?”

She couldn’t stand tohear him speak so. Hertemper snapped, and shethrewherselfathim,grabbingthe front of his blood-soakedtunic.“HowmanytimeshaveI told you that wasn’t yourfault?Howmany times?Butyou will only ever listen toDehan! Why? He’s a bitter

old man who does not loveyou. I loveyou,Smoke.Youaremyson,nothis.”

During this tirade,Smokehadloweredhisswordto avoid hurting her. She nolonger saw the demon in hiseyes.Theirgreenglowspokeonly of confusion. Butwhatever hemight have saidwas lost as a commotionbroke out in the hall. Theyheard the sound of runningfootsteps, and a manservant

shouting, “Where is Smoke?WhereisSmoke?Dehansayshe must come with greatesturgency!”

Smoke’s eyes flickeredwide, washed by a sudden,terrible awareness. ShovingTakis away, he turned andboltedforthedoor.

Bounding out of the bathinghall, Smoke cursed himself

for a fool. He had run thethreads just for theconvenience of breakingTakis’griponhim,forgettingthatDehanhadforbiddenhimto do so, except on theTrenchant’sownorder.

And the punishment fordisobedience was not visitedonhim.

He darted out the door,grabbing the doorframe tohelphimmaketheturnupthehallway. He came so fast he

ranrightintoKetty,knockingherbackagainstthewall.

For several seconds heonly stared at her in shock.Where had she come from?He’dbeensocaughtupinhisown anger he hadn’t evensensedherthere—

He groaned. TheTrenchant had commandedhimnottolookather.

And the punishment fordisobedience was not visitedonhim.

“Damn you, stay awayfromme!”

If he had hit her, shecould not have looked moreshocked. He didn’t care. Hesprintedwithallspeedforthestairs.Afterthefirstflight,heheard Britta screaming. Hereached the third story, tofindtheTrenchantstandinginthe hallway, holding littleBritta in his arms. Smokewent tohisknees atDehan’sfeet, head bowed. “It was a

mistake!”“Whathaveyoudone?”Smoke gestured

helplessly. “It was she. Ididn’t know shewas there. Ilookedather.”

The Trenchant cooed toBritta and patted her back.“Twice?”

“No.BeforethatIforgotmyself and ran the threadshere in Samerhen, thoughyou’ve commanded me notto.”

Britta was beginning tocalm.

“Andwhatmadeyousoforgetful?” the Trenchantasked.

“IcameuponTakiswitha loverwho is notworthyofher.”

Dehan laughed. “Youare a fool. Takis is wiseenough to judge her ownlovers. Now get out of mysight.You reek of blood andburning.”

Britta was whimperingonly faintly as Smoke stoodand walked back down thehall. His blood had cooledenough that he sensed Kettyon the stairs. So he wasprepared,anddescendedwithhisgazedowncast.But ashepassed her she whispered tohim,“Doyouloveme?”

He descended twomoresteps, then stopped. Withoutturning, he nodded his head.Thenhedrewinashuddering

breathandwenton.

Ketty hurried the rest of theway up the stairs, and whenshe reached the top she sawDehaninthehallway,waitingfor her, with Britta fussingagainsthischest.Kettyrantohim. “Why was she cryingso? What happened to her?”She tried to take the babyback, butDehan refused her.

His expression was severe.“Please.Givehertome.”

“This is not a game,Ketty.Britta isachildof theBidden,perhaps theonlyonethatwillbeborntousinthisgeneration.Sheisofsupremeimportance to me. If youneglect her again, Iwill giveher into the care of anotherwoman.”

“But she was asleep,safe,andIonlywenttoseeif—”Kettycaughtherself.She

couldnotmeethiseye.“Iknowwhereyouwent

and why.Was he pleased toseeyou?”

Kettyshookherhead.Britta was nuzzling

Dehan’s shoulder, makingsounds of hunger. “It’s thischildhetrulyloves.Hecan’thelp but love her. It’s in hisblood.”

He loves me too, Kettythought, but she did not daretospeak.

“Youmaythinkhelovesyou,” Dehan went on as ifhe’dreadhermind.“Buthe’sa dangerous creature. Itmeansnothingtohimtokillaman. He’d kill you to savethischildfromhurt.”

“I would never hurtBritta!”

“Youalreadyhave.Hurtis visited onBrittawheneverSmoke disobeys me.” He lether think about this a fewmoments before he added,

“Thescreamingyouheard—”“Oh Dread Hammer!”

Herhandwent tohermouth.She turned away in horror.DidSmokeknow?Ofcoursehe knew! But he wasn’tallowedtospeaktoher.Ifhehadtoldherthereasonforhissilence,thenBritta—

“You’ll stay away fromhim, won’t you?” Dehanasked. “You won’t try tospeaktohim.”

Ketty nodded. She

reached again for Britta, andthis time Dehan let her takethebaby.

Smoke dumped his weaponsandhis ruinedclotheson thefloorofthebathinghall,thenscrubbedhimselfcleanbeforeslipping into the soaking tub.Someone had fished thefallen candle out of the bathand set it back on the tall

candlestick. The flamesflickeredasthedooropened.

Smoke knew it wasTayval; he felt her presencein the threads. He turned tolookather.Shewaswearingloose-fitting trousers and along night shirt. Her blackhair was free around hershoulders. She cocked herhead and showed him acurvedneedleand thread.Hesighedandsatupstraighterinthe tub. She brought a stool

and sat behind him, andsutured the wound in hisback,andthentheoneonhisshoulder. He tried not toflinch.Whenshewasfinishedshe embraced him frombehind, her cheek pressedagainst his. Together theywatched veils of steam risefromthewater’ssurface.

After a while, Smokesaid, “Takis is in love with—”

Tayval pressed her

fingers to his lips to stop thewords.

“Istillwanttokillhim,”Smoke added when shefinallylethimspeakagain.

Tayval pinched his ear—“Ow”—and kissed hischeek. Then she left assilentlyasshehadcome.

Bloodline

Kettysatupformuchof thatnight, Britta in her arms andthe herbal book open on thetable beside her. She turnedthe pages, studying thedrawings and re-reading allthe descriptions. She hadn’trealized before howmany oftheplantswerepoisonous.

OnthenextdayshetookBritta outside to the gardenand,strollingabout,she triedtomatchtheplantsshesawtothose she had studied. She

thought she could name afew. She went back to thebook to learn more. On theday after that it was raining,and on the following day aswell, but when the sunreturned she went again tolook at the plants. This timeshe met the gardener—anolder woman of a talkativenature who was happy toshowheraroundandconfirmthenamesoftheherbs,andtodescribetheirmanyuses.She

even showed Ketty how toharvest leaves to makepoulticesandteas.

Then Takis came towatch. The gardener seemedsuddenlynervous,andafteraminute she excused herself,claiming some task shemustattend.

Takis sat down on abenchandinvitedKettytositbeside her. “May I holdBritta?”

Ketty’s guilty

consciencemadeherreluctanttogiveupthebaby,butTakishad been kind to her. Soratherthaninvitingquestions,she passed Britta into Takis’gentlehands.

Takis cooed over herniece and complimented her.Then, without looking atKetty, she said, “A spelldoesn’tdiewithitsmaker.”

Ketty caught her breath,certain she’dbeen foundout.She pressed her hand against

herlaptohideitstrembling.Takis said, “The

Hauntén are an impulsivepeople with a fiery nature,muchlikemybrotherSmoke.Feuds are common amongthem.SoKoráyputaspellonherbloodline,compelling thelove of parent for child, andchildforparent.”

“Your brother isn’tloved,”Kettywhispered.

“It’s far stronger withthefirstborn.It’saspellthat’s

lastedfivegenerations.Koráyis long gone from theworld,butherspellremainsstrong.”

Ketty clasped her handstogether. Her knuckles werewhite.

Takis said, “TheTrenchantisasskilledatspellmaking as Koráy ever was.Even when he dies, certainspells he has made will goon.”

“You have to helpSmoke,”Kettywhispered.

“You have a choice,Ketty. You can die forSmoke, or you can live forBritta. Search your heart. Ifyou can find there someaffection for the Trenchant,hewillreturnittenfold,andifyou give him another child,he’ll worship you as he didmymother.ButhewillneverallowSmoketohavethelovethat was taken away fromhim.”

Brittawassleepingwhen

Takis handed her back. “Ilovemybrother,”Takissaid.“But I love my father too.Koráy’sspellbindsusboth.”

She leftKetty tremblinginthegarden.

Tayvalwasaspiderpoisedatthe center of a web of tenthousand threads, foreverattunedtotheirvibrationsandwhat they told her of the

world. She read the threadsbetterthanSmoke,betterthanthe Trenchant, and far, farbetterthanTakis.

“I am nothing withoutyou,”Takiswhisperedassheleft the garden and enteredinto the librarywhereDehanwasspendingthemorning.

Tayval answered fromafar,Weareonetogether.

It was Tayval who hadpaidattentiontoKetty’sgriefandherfury,whohadsensed

her wakefulness that nightSmokereturnedlate,whohadnotedhersudden,oddinterestintheherbgarden—astrangepreoccupation given theturmoil in her life—and itwas Tayval who’d explainedto Takis her chillingconclusion.

Why didn’t I see it?Takis wondered,remembering the hostility inKetty’sgazewhenDehanhadfirst liftedherdownfromhis

horse,makingaclaimonherthere in the courtyard.Remembering that look,Takiswas lesssurprised thanshemighthavebeenbywhatKettyhadcontemplated.

It was Dehan’s error tolook at the shepherd girl andsee only what he wanted tosee. Until today it had beenTakis’ error to look at Kettyand see only what sheexpected. Tayval alone hadseenthroughtothetruth.

The Trenchant wasseated at the library’s largetable, in casual discussionwith two of his officers. Helooked at Takis curiously asshe drew near. She said, “Iwould see you alone whenyouhavetime.”

“I have time now.” Hepushed back his chair. “Wewere only discussing theblessings of wives and thecharmoftheirbabies.”

Takis smiled. “Or is it

the charm of wives and theblessingofbabies?”

The officers laughed asTakisleftwithDehan.

“What is it then?” heasked when they weretogether in the hall. “Haveyou come to tell me you’rereturningtotheborder?”

Takis looked up at him,surprised that he hadn’talready seen it. Tayval hadseeniteasily.

She opened a door to a

rarely used office, looked into make sure the room wasempty, then stepped inside.Dehan followed, but he wassuddenly pensive, as if hefearedgrimnews.

“Close the door,” Takisurged him. “Come fartherintotheroom.”Whenhehaddone it, she circled around,placing herself between himand the door. She met hisperplexedgaze.“Myfather,Iwantyou to lookatme,very

closely,verycarefully.”Hedidit.Helookedfirst

with his eyes, and then helooked deeper, into thestructure of the threads thatdefined this reflection of herwithin the world—andastonishment cameoverhim.Nexthe looked from right toleftasifhecouldseethroughthe walls—and then helooked up toward Takis’apartment on the floor above—andfuryflaredinhiseyes.

“By Koráy!” he shouted.“What is a Lutawan doing—?”

Takis braced herself,ready to physically wrestlehim if he tried to get to thedoor.But theTrenchant onlylookedather,aghast.“Ihaveanewlover,”shewarnedhimin a sharp tone. “One I likeverymuch.”

Dehan made his way toan armchair and sat down.Alreadyhisangerhadslipped

away.Helookedupather inwonder. “You are withchild.”

“Iamwithchild,”Takisagreed, still astonished by itherself.

It was Tayval who hadfirstnoticed.

Ofcourse.

Prayers

The Trenchant sent Smokesouthagain.

He ran the threads andfoundRennish asDehan hadinstructed.Hermouthsetinahard linewhen she saw him.She accepted the orders hehanded her and read throughthem without a word. Thenshegotoutamapandshowedhim his targets, just as shehadbefore.

This time he struck firstin the bright light of early

morning.Thetowerofsmokethatwentupfromtheburningcould be seen for miles. Atthe next two holdings thefamilies had fled, so hesettled for killing thelivestock and burning thehouses and barns. At thefourth site soldiers awaitedhim, so he went on. TheTrenchanthadwarnedhimtoavoid melees; he wantedSmokealive.

At the fifth holding and

thesixthhehadtohuntdownthe family members in thefield.

The seventh was easier.It was a large holding, withtwohousesandabarn,buthecameatnoonwhenthefamilywas gathered together fortheirmeal.

Thenitwasdone.Nothingwasleftbutfire,

and Britta was safe foranotherday.

Smokedidn’tknowhow

hecouldgoon.He fell to his knees in

theblisteringheatcastoffbythe curtains of fire thatengulfed the houses and thebarn. He prayed, help mebreak this spell, help mebreak this spell, help mebreak this spell, over andover,while the flamesroaredanddancedaroundhim.

Butwhowouldansweragod’sprayers?

One of the houses

collapsed, sending a searinggalewashingoverhim.Itwasareminder thathehad togo.Dehan was very clear in hisinstructions: leave nowitnesses. If anyone came toinvestigate the flames whileSmoke was still there, he’dhave to kill them too. So hegaveuphisprayerandstood,only to discover he wasalreadytoolate.

Three creaturessurrounded him. Two were

men and one a woman, butthey were not human. Theywere Hauntén. Smoke hadneverseenhiskinbefore,buthe recognized them at oncefor what they were. Theywerealltallandveryslender,and armed with swords ontheir backs. They wore theirhair long, as Smoke did, buttheirhairwasdarkandboundin braids. Their complexionswere smooth and smoky.They had gleaming green

eyessetinangularfaces,withwell-defined eyebrows thatleanedin,sothattheylookedenlivened by the energy thatprecedesafitoftemper.

Ofthetwomen,onehadhair shot through with gray.HelookedtobeasoldastheTrenchant.TheotherwastallandmuscularandlookedonlyalittleolderthanSmoke.Butitwasthewomanwhocaughthiseye.

Shehadthesleekbeauty

andpowerfulalluresharedbyso many dangerous things,from a finely wroughtarrowhead, to a gracefulblade,toastalkingforestcat.She was dressed simply inleather trousers and a close-fitting, sleeveless leatherjerkin that showed off hersmoothly-muscled arms. Acrest of iridescent greenfeathers inherhairmadeherseem taller than she trulywas.

Desire flushed throughSmoke, but it mixed badlywith the primal dread he’dalways felt toward theHauntén and he lashed out,drawing his bloody, chippedswordfromhisbackscabbardand holding it at the ready,hisgaze shiftingbetween thethree as he gauged which tostrikefirst.

None of them reachedfor their own weapons. Thewomanand theyoungerman

traded a condescending look.But the older man, who wasdressed in a finegreen tunic,spoke to Smoke in a gentlevoice,“Ifwe’dcometoharmyou, Smoke, you wouldalreadybedead.”

The woman steppedforward, appraising Smokewith a bold eye. “Didn’t youpray to us? We’ve come inanswer.”

All his life Smoke hadfeared the Hauntén and the

darkheartoftheforestwherethey were said to live,without ever knowing why.Even now, as he looked attheirsharpfaces,instincttoldhim to flee—but hope heldhimback.“Whoareyou?”heasked, lowering the point ofhissword.

The older mananswered. “My name isPellas.” He indicated theothers.“SheisThellanandheis Gawan. And you, Smoke,

share a kinship with us,thoughyou’reBidden.”

Smoke noddedcautiously. “Through Koráy,longago.Canyoutrulybreakthe spell that bindsme?”Hewatched their bodies, nottheir faces, on guard for theleastunexpectedmove.

“Not from such adistance,” Pellas said. “TheTrenchanthashoardedallthepowerofKoráy.Tobreakhisspellwehavetomeetitasits

source.”“The Trenchant is at

Samerhen.”“That’s a problem,”

Thellan said with someremorse.“Samerhenisclosedtous.”

Gawan finally spoke,withahardedgetohisvoice.“All the Puzzle Lands arelocked away behind spellsand weavings designed tokeep us, your kin, on theoutside. You did the same

when you lived within theWild Wood. I wonder whatguilt would lead you to fearyourownkin?”

“Hush, Gawan!” Pellassnapped.“It’senoughthatourfamilies have been a longtimeapart.It’snaturaltofeartheunknown.”

It was more than theunknown that Smoke feared,butwhatdiditmatter?Therewas nothing these Haunténcoulddotohimthatwouldbe

worse than what theTrenchant had already done.“I canguideyou through theweft and into the Fortress ofSamerhen.Butcanyoubreakthespell?”

Pellasnodded.“Thecostwillbehigh.”

“I don’t care about thecost. However much youwant,I’llpayit.”

They came at twilight, whenthe household was gatheredfortheeveningmeal.

Smoke came first as aswirl of vapor pouringthrough the walls. Severaldinerscriedoutandstumbledfrom their chairs. Even theTrenchant stood in alarm asSmoke materialized in theopen space fronting the headtable, reeking of blood andcharred lives.Hewent to hisknees at once, his head

bowed in abject submission.But before his knees hit thefloorhefeltthegravityofthethree Hauntén as they tookshapebehindhim.

Chairsscrapedaspeoplejumped to their feet. Thereweregaspsandsmallscreamsandthesoundofrunningfeet.Smokelookeduptothetablewhere his family dined andknew at once something hadchanged. Takis had risen toher feet to stand beside

Dehan, but behind her wasthe Lutawan officer,Nedgalvin, and Smoke couldnot think why he was there,or what had moved Takis toshow him to the Trenchant,andwhat had stoppedDehanfrom instantly commandinghisdeath.

None of them werearmed, though, at least notwithsteel.

Kettywas there too.Hisgazedpassedoverherswiftly.

She’d backed away into theshadowsbehindthetable.Herpretty eyes were wide withfearandconfusionassheheldBritta securely against herbreast.

Only Tayval was stillseated.HershockedgazewasfixedonSmoke,buteveryoneelse stared at the Haunténgatheredbehindhim.

And what were theywaitingfor?

He turned to glare at

Pellas.“Doit!”Pellas glanced down at

him, and itwas as if amaskhad been stripped away andhis inner heart revealed.Hatred blazed, a dark fire inhiseyes,sofierceSmokefelthis soul begin to tear in twojust as it hadwhen he’d fledthemidwife’scottage.

Hewasbetrayed.There was no time for

anyother thought.He lungedfrom his knees, drawing his

swordashedidso.Thebladehissed through the air, butPellas was already gone in asilvery vapor. Smoke’s bladewhistled through the shiftingcloud, meeting no resistanceuntil it bit deep into thewoodenfloor.

As hewrested the bladefree Pellas coalesced almostontopofhim.Smokesteppedback, but Pellas was faster.HestruckSmoke’swristwithanumbingblow that senthis

sword clattering to the floor.At the same time, Pellashooked his heel behindSmoke’s ankle and jerkedhard. Smoke’s feet flew outfromunderhim,andhisbackslammedagainstthefloor.

Pellas came after himwith such speed his Haunténbody half dissolved to fluidmist. Smoke saw him drawhis thin, curved sword. Hetried to roll away, but Pellaswasfaster.Grippingtheblade

in two hands, the Haunténstabbed it down throughSmoke’s left shoulder. Ribscracked, his shoulder bladesnapped,andthenthepointofthe sword sank into thewoodenfloor.

Smoke tried to fleealongthethreads.

Buthewaspinnedtotheworld by steel, just as he’dbeen that day he’d metNedgalvin. He sensed allaroundhimtheweftandwarp

of the deeper world, but hecouldnotretreatintoit.

Thenthepainhithim.It sucked all the air out

of his chest, leaving himnothing left to scream with.Not that anyone would havenoticed,somanypeoplewerealready screaming all aroundtheroom.

But then the first shockpassed. The pain thatfollowed on its heels onlystokedhisever-presentanger.

Bending his right elbow, heforced himself up, an inch,two inches, his left shoulderstillimpaledonthesword.Itsblade sliced deeper throughhis muscle tissue. Hot bloodbubbledfromthewound.

Pellas pressed a bootedfoot against Smoke’s chest,slamming him back downagainstthefloor.

Smoke screamed. Hecouldn’t help it. The pain inhis soul when he looked at

Pellas combined with thewrackingpaininhisshoulderwas more than he had everimagined, or endured—buteven as he screamed, hefought back. Seizing Pellas’ankle with his right hand hetriedtothrowhimoff.

But his strength hadbubbledawaywithhisblood.He felt its sticky warmthbeneath him, clotting in hishair, and he could no moremove the foot that held him

down than he could lift theFortressofSamerhen.

It was so unfair! Pellashad betrayed him, and hisdefeatwascomplete.

What would happen toBritta?WhatwouldhappentoKetty?

But he already knew.Dehan would care for them.He writhed again, drivingeven more blood from hisbody.

Itwasthemidwife,curse

her! It had been wrong tomurderher,heknewthat,buthe’d only been trying toprotect Ketty. That hadseemedlikereasonenoughatthe time, but everything hadgone wrong since then andnowthis—

Iamafool!The Hauntén did not

answer prayers. Koráy wasthe only one of them whoever had. He knew that. Yethe’d been so desperate he’d

chosen tobelieve them.He’dbroughtthemhere—

Fool!—only to find they’d

comefor retribution,sent,nodoubt,bytheoldspiritwho’dcaughthimatthecottage.

Itwassounfair.

Ketty screamed in horror asthe Hauntén demon stabbedhis sword into Smoke. Her

scream frightened Britta sothat she started screamingtoo. “Help him, help him,”Ketty sobbed,and thenwhennoonedidshestartedaroundthetable.

Tayval was on her feetbefore Ketty had gone threesteps. She caught her arm.Stay,aghostvoicewhisperedinside her mind. You cannotstopit.

“He is my husband,”Ketty pleaded in a voice

chokedwithtears.Stay.AsPellasstoodbalanced

with one foot againstSmoke’s chest, he regardedKetty and the baby she held.“Dehan.” The Hauntén’smerciless green gaze shiftedto the Trenchant. “Twentyyears ago you stole awaywhatwasprecioustome.I’vecomenowforrestitution.”

Silence filled the room.Even Britta had stopped

crying. Ketty held her closeand kissed her, more acomfort toherself thantothebaby. She looked at theTrenchant,andwasstartledtosee him sigh and sit backdown again. He leanedagainst the armrest of hischair, cuppinghischin inhispalm as if considering theHauntén’s request. After afew seconds he gestured atSmoke. “Pellas, it lies therebeneathyour foot.All that is

left.Takeit.”“No!” Ketty shouted,

and Pellas turned again toconsider her, but Tayvalpinched her arm and pulledher into the shadows thatlurked beyond the reach ofthe table’scandlelight,whereNedgalvin’s broad shouldersblocked her view of Smoke.The southerner stood with aprotective arm in front ofTakis—butKettynoticedthathis gaze was fixed on the

woman Hauntén, staring atherasifheweretransfixed.

DidTakisseeittoo?Shelookedupathiminirritation,then pushed aside hisrestraining arm. “Father, doyouknowthiscreature?”

Dehan ignored her.“What’s done cannot beundone, and I have alreadypaidwiththelifeofmywife,who died giving birth to thisdemon son. Take him if youwanthim.”

Pellasshookhishead.“Iwon’t accept what lies here.It’sflawedandtainted.”

Ketty started forward,but Tayval’s grip tightenedon her arm. “What are theytalking about?” shewhispered. There was suchdread in Tayval’s eyes thatKettywassuresheknew,butTayvalmadenoanswer.

Pellas said, “You sentmercenarieshuntingmywife.Youshowedthemhowtopin

herintheworldwithbarbsofsteel. You stole my son’sperfect soul from her womb.Dehan, do you know whatwas leftbehind?Nothingbuta bloody pulp! It broke hermind. She wandered theforestblindanddazed,andifnot for the wise woman ofNefión who found her andcaredforher,shewouldhavesurelydied.”

Dehan said, “It’s theduty of the Bidden to

safeguard the people ofKoráy,atanycost.”

The woman Haunténspokeforthefirsttimeasshegazed down at Smokewherehe lay pinned and bleeding.“Youwanted tomake a god,didn’t you? A warrior evenmore blessed than Koráy—but you made a demoninstead.”

Dehan’sfistthumpedthetable.“Pellas,thesoulofyoursonstilllives.Takeit!Takeit

andgo!”Again, Pellas shook his

head. “These were once twoperfect souls, your son andmine,butthebindingyouseton them has done its work.They’ve long since becomeone flawed creature. No . . .you took a perfect soul fromme. I’ve come to collect thesame.”

Takis suddenly steppedback, retreating into theshadowsbehindNedgalvinas

ifshethoughtthepricewouldbe taken from her—butPellas’ gaze was turned toKetty.“I’llacceptthechildofmychildassettlementforthedebt.”

Kettymet his gazewitha snarl, holding Britta moretightly still. “You are notSmoke’sfather!”

TheothermaleHauntén,the younger one, spoke. “Heisademon,with twofathers,twomothers,andtwosouls!”

“Hush, Gawan,” Pellassaid. “She bears no blame inthis.”

Smoke groaned andKettyleanedforwardtolook,prayinghewouldriseup,buthe was still trapped beneaththefootofhisHaunténfather,and though his right handgroped for his fallen sword,the blade lay beyond thereachofhisbloodyfingertips.So Ketty turned to Dehaninstead. “Don’t let him take

Britta.”TakislookedatKettyas

ifshe’dsuddenlybecometheenemy. Then she whirled onDehan.“Myfather—”

“Quiet,”Dehangrowled.But then he raised his hand,andlikealittlegirl,Takisranforward to clutch it. Dehantold her, “Britta is a child oftheBiddenandshe’sprecioustome.”

“She’sprecious toallofus,”Takiswhispered.

Ketty scurried to hisside. “You have to protecther.She’stheonlygrandchildyou have, the only hope fortheKoráyospeople.”

Takis squeezed her eyesshut and looked at the floor,while Dehan spoke to Kettyin a gentle voice. “You’llhave more children, but thedebtmustbepaid.”

This was so far fromwhatKettyhadhopedtohear,it took her a moment to

understand. She staggered,retreatingfromtheTrenchant,butNedgalvinwasinthewayand when she turned, therewasTayval.

Ketty heard herselfsobbing. She tried to pushpastNedgalvin,thinkingonlyto reach the door, but mistswirled around her andsuddenly she was faced withGawan, and the womanwhose name she had notheard spoken. “Give up the

child,”thewomansaid.“No! Britta is not a

slave. She can’t be used topayanyone’sdebt!”

Gawan said, “Thellan,takeherleftarm.”

Gawan seized her right.She kicked at them, but shewas made awkward by thebaby. They pried her fingersloose and Gawan wrestedBritta from her arms. Thebaby was red faced andsqualling. Ketty was

screaming too, still wrestlingwith Thellan, when Gawan’sreflection shifted into aswirling plume ofwhitemistthat streamed away,vanishingthroughthewall.

Thellan released Kettyas soon as Gawan was goneandKettycollapsed,her fistsclenchingandunclenchingasher body shook withhystericalsobs.

Smoke waited, trying not tohearKettycrying,dearKetty,the only one who’d tried todefendhim.

Thellancametoseehim.Beautiful Thellan. Shesquatted by his side with ahungry smile. “Live, prettychild,andI’llcomeforyou.”

Smoke snarled, gropingagainforthehiltofhissword,knowing it was only inchesaway.Howhewould love toslitthethroatofthisHauntén

siren!She stood up. With the

toeofherbootshenudgedhisswordcloser, thoughstillnotquitecloseenoughforhimtoreach. Then she dissolved,andwasgone.

Only Pellas remainedbehind. Smoke watched hisHauntén father, knowing hestill had a promise to keep.He was acutely aware of hissword,lessthananinchfromhisbloodyfingertips.

Pellas stepped back.Using two hands, he yankedhis sword out of Smoke’sshoulder. Smoke rolled,grabbed thehilt ofhis swordandcametohisfeet.

His left armwas a deadweightathisside.Ittookhimasteportwotoworkoutthebalance, but then he chargedthe table where Dehan sat.Dehan saw him coming. Hestood up so quickly heknocked his chair backward

againstTakis.Thespellwasstillintact,

but during these secondsBrittawas safe in theworld-beneath, where thepunishment of Dehan’sruthlessspellcouldnottouchher.

Smoke used his righthand to boost himself ontothetable,andashedid,Pellaskept his promise. The spellthat compelled Smoke’sobedience shattered. Smoke

launched himself from thetabletop,hisswordheldhigh,itschippedbladeswingingina hissing arc that struck theTrenchant behind his earbeforeslicingdownwithsuchforcethathisneckwasnearlysevered. Dehan collapsed.Smokecamedownon topofhim, but his momentum senthimtumblingontohisbrokenshoulder.He screamed at thewhitehotpain,clawingattheground.

But he had to getBrittaback.

He forced himself up,until he was kneeling. Thenhe tried to get his feet underhim, but he slipped in theblood pooling around him.TheTrenchant’sblood.

Whatdiditmatter,whenhecouldrunthethreads?

He threwbackhishead,reaching with his mind intothe world-beneath . . . butnothing happened. He could

go nowhere. He was stillpinned,asifthesword’ssteelbladeremainedinhim.

Takis was suddenlycrouchedbesidehim.

“I’m still caught in theworld,”hewhisperedtoher.

“Areyou?Good!”The threads sang with

her fury. He’d never feltanything like it before. Shelooked like shewanted tohithim.Therewereeventearsinher eyes. Tears for the

Trenchant?Jealousyawokeinhim, and guilt. Uselessfeelings. “I don’t care whatyou think! I would do itagain.”

“Iknowyouwould.”Shegrabbedhishairand

yanked his head back. Hewould have toppled if shehadn’t held him up. Hegrabbed her wrist with hisrighthand.“Letmego!”

“Be still! Don’t temptme!I’msoangrynowIcould

killyou!”Even in his weakened

state,herwordshurt.“That’sa . . . treacherous thing tosay.”

“Shutup!”What little strength he

hadwasquicklyleavinghim.He sagged against hersupporting arm.ThenTayvalwas crouched on his otherside. He saw her dip herfingers into the pool of theirfather’s blood. “For you,

idiot,”Takissaidasher tearsspilled over. “A portion ofourfather’sstrength.Sodon’tdie.”

With bloody fingers,Tayval painted twin stripesacross his cheeks. At thesame timeSmoke sensed heratworkintheworld-beneath.Threads twisted andcombined, and suddenly hefelt touched with a giddyenergy as if new blood hadrushed in to fill his empty

veins. His terrible lethargyretreated. He struggledagainst Takis’ restraininghand, but she shook him bythe hair and ordered himagainto“Bestill!”

His ears buzzed with acacophony of women’svoices.

And meantime, Tayvalcontinued her work in theworld-beneath. Shesummonedintoexistencefinenew threads. She sent them

circling around him, pullingtight in a heavy net ofobligation.

“Stop it!” he hissed.“Stop it. You don’t have tobind me. I would never hurtyou.Eitherofyou.”

“You say that now,”Takis said. “But loyaltieschange,andyourshaveneverbeentothePuzzleLands.”

The voices challengedhisloyaltytoo.Hetriednottohear them. He tried again to

slip away into the world-beneath andwhen that failedhe tried to understand whatTayval was binding him to.That’swhenhesawit:anewspirit, barely in existence yetswiftlygrowing.

Smoke’s grip tightenedon Takis’ arm. “Dehan gaveBritta away so you couldkeepyournewchild!”

No wonder she wasafraid.

ButthestrengthDehan’s

bloodhadbroughttohimwasfadingandhecouldnot fighther.Hecouldn’tevenholdonto his anger. Tayval wastakingthataway.

LikeDehan,Tayval hadinheritedmuchof theskillofKoráy. He felt her spellbindinghimtoTakis’childinanirrevocablenetofloveandobligationmuch like the onethat bound him to Britta. Heturnedhistiredgazetoher.“Idon’t even mind,” he

whispered as the buzzing inhis ears reached a crescendo.Loving Ketty and lovingBritta was the only true joyhe’d ever known. He couldloveTakis’childtoo.

Takis said, “He’sslippingaway.”

Smoke shook his head,orhetriedto.Hetriedtosay,No, I’m not, but the wordswerelostwithintheclamorofdistant voices, womenbeseechinghimtodomurder

ontheirbehalf.It troubled him that he

couldnotanswer.

Nedgalvinwasasshockedasthe Trenchant when Smokerose up from the dead andattacked. The demon couldnot have had strength left tostand! And yet Dehan laydeadathisfeetandTakis...she would be the Trenchant

now.Takis and Tayval and

Smoke were all huddledtogether in the pool of theirfather’s blood, engaged insomeritual,withnoattentionto spare for anything aroundthem.

Itoccurred toNedgalvinthat if only he had a sword,he could destroy the Biddenhere,now,onceandforall.

The blood wasspreading,andthesmellof it

was making him sick. Theweeping of the Binthy girlwas grating on him too. Shewas a pretty thing, but hecouldn’t stand a woman’suselessweeping.

Still, he could see whyDehanhadkepther.

Nedgalvin valued abeautiful woman. Takis wascomely enough, and he’dnever had more pleasure inbed, but hewould never callher beautiful . . . especially

not after seeing the Haunténwoman. Thellan. She wouldbeatreasuretolockuponhisestate.

He shook his head,trying to banish the thoughtofher.

Hislifeinthesouthwasgone. He had no estate. Hisfamily and friends mustbelievehimdeadandeven ifhe returned and proved themwrong, he would be hangedfor the disaster at Scout’s

Pass.Why grieve over it?

Takis would be Trenchantand rule over the PuzzleLands while he would ruleover her. That was God’sway.

~

Shearsprayersandheanswersthem.Doesthismakehimagod?

Whenagodkills,isitdivinejustice?Fate?Ormurder?

AWolfishSnarlTakis stood with sword inhand facing down the fivetop-ranking officers in

Samerhen. They had comearmed and angry into thefamily quarters, seekingretribution for the murder ofDehan.

“Letuspass,Takis,”thesenior among them insisted.He carried a sword on hisbackandanotherathiswaist,buthehadrespectenoughnottodrawhisarmsagainsther.

“Your anger ishonorable,” she said softly.“But it’s not for you to kill

my brother. He is of theBidden and we protect oneanother.It’sourway.”

“Heed us, Takis, andacceptthetruth.He’snotlikeyou.Smokeisademonchild,corrupted in the womb, bornflawed, and dangerous to allof us. The Trenchant usedhim anyway. He believed hecould control him—but lookwhat happened! Dehan isdead. Murdered by his ownson.”

“I am the Trenchantnow,”Takisremindedhim.

The senior officerinclined his head. “We don’task you to raise a handagainstyourbrother,onlythatyou let us pass. He needs tobe put down,Takis.Wewilldoitforyou.”

“Youwouldmurderhimas he lies helpless andunconscious?”

“Would we have achance against him

otherwise?”“No.Ican’tletyoudoit.

He belongs to the Bidden.Yourjusticeisnotforhim.”

Smoke smelled first themilkleaking fromKetty’s breasts,andthenSmokewoketofindher sitting beside him. Hereyes were red from crying.She looked at him foranswers,buthehadnone.He

didn’tevenknowwhyhewasstillalive.

He saw that he was inhisownroom.Sunlightcameinthroughthewindow,whichmeant itwas a new day.Hisleft arm was bound tightacrosshischest,buthis rightwas free. He tried to speak,but he had to swallow first,workingmoistureintohisdrythroat before words wouldcome.“Wh-whereisBritta?”

“They took her!” Ketty

said it with a wolfish snarl.“Smoke, don’t youremember?”

“I do remember. I’llbringherback.”

Takis spoke fromsomewherenearby,herwordsclipped with cold fury:“Tayval has not saved yourlifesoyoucanthrowitawayagain.”

Smoke turned his headtolookforher,andspiedherstandingatthedoor.

She fixed him with anangry glare. “You won’t beable to travel as a spirit intothe dark heart. Tayval saystheway is closed toyou, thethreads are tangled—unlessyou can persuade a traitor toguideyou?”

Smoke thought aboutthat word, “traitor.” “I lostBrittabecauseIletthemin.”

“That’sright.”“No!” Frustration fired

Ketty’s voice. “The

Trenchantleftyounochoice,Smoke. You did the onlythingyoucould.”

Smoke raised his righthand. Ketty caught it. “I’msorry, Ketty. I didn’t knowtheywouldtakeher.”

“You should haveknown!”Takis insisted. “Butyouchosetobringthemhere.You lost Britta, and youmurderedourfather!”

This was too much forKetty. She turned around in

her chair. “You leave himalone! The Trenchant tradedourchildtosaveyours.IftheHauntén had known, maybethey would have taken yourbabyinstead!”

“They wanted Smoke’schild,notmine.”

FromthewayTakissaidit, Smoke guessed that she’dsaid itmany times before. “Iknewyouwereinlove,Takis,whenIsawyouinthebath.”

“Shutup.”

“Butyoudidn’tbindmeto him, and I’ll kill him if Ican.”

Somewhere behindSmoke, Nedgalvin chuckled.When Smoke heard it, thehair on the back of his neckstoodup.HedroppedKetty’shand and flopped over,searching around him for aswordthatwasn’tthere.

“Stop it, Smoke,” Takiswarned. “I will not tolerateany more of your wanton

murders!”Smoke spotted

Nedgalvin,sitting inacornerchair behind Ketty. His hairwascombed,hisbeardneatlytrimmed. He was dressed infine clothes and looked verysure of himself. “Maybesomeday we’ll finish it,Dismay. But not today. Itwouldn’tbefair.”

“Idon’tcareaboutfairiftheadvantage ismine.”ThenSmoke’s brow furrowed. He

looked atTakis. “Whywas Istill pinned after the swordcameout?Whycouldn’tIrunthethreads?”

“It was the Haunténblade,” she said, suddenlysounding tired. “The steelwas brittle. It crumbled,leaving bits and pieces.Tayval dug out threefragmentsfromyourwound.”

Smoke lay back,scowling. Had Tayval gottenthemall?Hehadtoknow.So

hereachedoutforthethreadsand to his heartfelt relief hefelthisreflectiondissolving.

Kettymisunderstood hisintention. Her eyes wentwide.“Smoke,don’tgo!”

He hadn’t been goinganywhere; he’d only beentrying to see if he could, butKetty didn’t know that andshe lunged at him as if shecould hold him in place.Herweight came down on hiswoundedshoulder.

Hecriedoutastheroomaround him dissolved in ablur of pain that only easedwhen Ketty’s sweet lipsbrushed his cheek. “I’msorry, I’m sorry,” shemurmured.“Don’tgo.”

The voices werewhispering to him again,calling to him. Dismay,Dismay.

Takis spoke to him,sounding closer now.“Smoke? Are you still with

us?”Heblinkedandsawthat

she was crouched beside thebed, next to Ketty. She said,“Nedgalvin is our ally now.Dehan accepted him. Youwilltoo.”

He shook his head.“He’s Lutawan. He’ll betrayyou.”

“You’re my brother.You’ve already betrayedme.I guess I’ll have to take mychances.”

“When you want me tokillhim,justletmeknow.”

“Smoke, what aboutBritta?”Kettyasked.

Smoke caught her handagain; he looked into hereyes. “I’ll find her. I’ll walkinto the dark heart if I haveto,butI’llbringherback.”

Takis said, “I can’t letyoudo it.”She stoodup, thebetter to glare down at him.“We can’t afford a war withtheHauntén.”

“She’s our daughter!”Kettyinsisted.

“Even for yourdaughter.”

Smoke closed his eyes.Nopoint to argue.Hewouldgo. It didn’t matter whatTakissaid.Helistenedtothevoices,entrancedbythem.

“He’s asleep again,”Kettywhispered.

“I’mnot.I’mlistening.”“Towhat?”Takisasked.“Prayers.” He opened

his eyes again, remembering.“The Hauntén heard mepraying. It’s why they came.Toanswermyprayer.”

Takislookedathimasifheweremad.“Youprayedtothemtobreakthespell?”

“Iprayedtoanyonewhowould listen! Pellas said theprice would be high. Ithoughthemeantcoin.”

She shook her head indisbelief. “You neverunderstood the value of

anything, little brother. Coinleastofall.”

“I understand Britta ismy daughter and she wasn’tfortheTrenchanttosell.”

Nedgalvin rose fromhisseat and went to the door.“You stand here and arguewith him, Takis, but you areTrenchant.Whatwill you dowhen Dismay refuses yourcommand?”

Takis turned her angrygaze on him, but he was

alreadywalkingout.“He’ll betray you,”

Smokewarnedagain.“Not while Tayval is

watching him.” Then shecrouched again beside thebed, and in a low voice shesaid,“Ineedyou,Smoke.”

“Whatfor?”“When you’re healed,

whenyoucanrunthethreadsagain, Iwant you to gowithNedgalvin back to theLutawan Kingdom. I want

you to protect him and helphimbuyhiswaybackintotheranks. And when the time isright, I want you to kill theking, and put Nedgalvin inhisplace.”

“That’s completelycrazy,”Kettysaid.

Takis ignored her.“Smoke, I want to end thisendless war, but I need arational man ontheLutawanthronetodoit.”

“Does Tayval think it’ll

work?”Smokeasked.Takis shrugged. “We

havetotry.Willyoudoit?”Ketty’s voice went

shrill.“Ofcoursehewon’tdoit!It’scrazy!”

Smoke closed his eyes.“IhavetofindBrittafirst.”

“Smoke—”He kissed Ketty’s hand.

“OnlywhenBritta’ssafe.”“Iwantyou safe,”Ketty

whispered.Smoke felt himself

fading, while the voices thatprayed for murder grewlouder. He spoke over them,though his voice was only awhisper.“Takis,Idon’tthinkNedgalvin’s the man you’relooking for. I think he’llbetray you, but for a chancetokilltheking?I’lltryit.”

“Very sweet of you,”Takis said. “But you won’thaveachance if theHaunténhavealreadykilledyou.”

KettysqueezedSmoke’s

hand, and kissed it. “I’vebeenthinkingaboutthat.”

Smoke opened his eyesagain,madesuspiciousbyhertone.

“Smoke, I know thatwhat you know is how tofight and murder . . . but Ithink Takis is right and theHaunténwill kill you if youattack them. So we’ll gotogether,youandI,andwe’llgoinpeace,andwe’llaskforBritta back. When they

understand how much weloveher,they’lllethergo.”

Smoke started tochuckle,butithurttoomuch.“Oh Ketty, you’re so silly.That would never, neverwork.”

Ketty dropped his hand.She shoved back her chairandstood.Takislookedupather with one eyebrow raisedwhileKettycrossedherarmsoverherchest.“You’veneverhadtoasknicelyforanything

in your life, have you?” shedemanded.

Smoke gave her a surlylook. “Not until I met you,KettyoftheRedMoon.”

Eventually,ofcourse,hewas forced toagree that theywould go in peace and asknicelybecauseonceKettysethermindtosomethingitwasonlyeveramatteroftime.

Back in her apartment,Takistookonanotherbattle.

“You should kill him!”Nedgalvin told her. “Now.While he’s weak. Once he’srecovered,youwon’tbeableto control him. Dismay is athreat to you, Takis. He’s athreattothethrone.”

She rolled her eyes,beseeching the DreadHammer. “Smoke is not athreat tome, and there is nothrone.Thisisnotakingdom,

Ned. The Trenchantcommands the army, butthat’s all. The people rulethemselves.”

“Whoever rules thearmy,rulesthepeople.”

“Nothere.”“Thatcanchange.”She walked to the

windowandlookedoutatthegreen pasture of EverwatchRidge.OfcourseSmokewasright.Hewouldbetrayher—ifshekepthimhere.“There’s

no room in thePuzzleLandsforyourambitions,mylove.”

He drew himself up,even glanced over hisshoulder as if he expected acadre of armed guards tocome bursting through thedoor.

“It's notmy ambition tobring you down Nedgalvin,buttoraiseyouup.”

He smiled. “You saidthose same words that firstnightwespenttogether.”

“I want to be akingmaker,” she went on. “Iwant you—a rational man—tositontheLutawanthrone.”

His smilewas gone.Hewas angry again. “You’resending me away to mydeath?”

“Maybe,” sheacknowledged. “But I hopenot. Itwillbedangerous,butI’m sendingmy bestweaponwithyoutoimprovetheodds.Smoke has agreed to help

you.”“Dismay?” Nedgalvin

was incredulous. “Thatdemon will cut my throatwhileI’masleep!”

“No.He’drathercut theking’sthroatthanyours,andIpromised him he’d have thatpleasure when the time wasright.”

“And what about hisquestforBritta?”

Takisscowled.“He’lldothatfirst,buthe’spromisedto

doitpeacefully—”Nedgalvinsnorted.“And

youbelievehim?”“—so hemight survive.

Inanycase,youcanstayherewithmeawhilelonger.”

Nedgalvin looked pasther. She could see himweighing things. Finally hesaid, “SoDismay is going towalk into the land of theHauntén. You said he can’ttravelthereasaspirit?”

“That’s right. I imagine

he’ll take horses, though.Ketty’sgoingwithhim.”

Nedgalvin’s brows rosein surprise and he laughed.“The way northern womencommand their men willneverceasetoamazeme.”

“Oh, I don’t know.You’ve enjoyed being toldwhat to do, from time totime.”

He shrugged. “I’ll gowith Dismay and help himpleadwiththeHauntén.”

Takis was blindsided.She looked at him, aghast.“What?Why?”

“Ifyouwantme to leada revolutionagainst theking,I’ll need allies, and whatbetter allies than theHauntén?”

“The Hauntén don’tmake alliances. They protectonlywhatistheirs.”

“I want to meet themanyway.”

Takisweighed thevalue

of arguing with him; sheconsidered forcing him tostay. But he had not earnedthe rank of general by beingcompliant. She knew himwell enough to know thatforcing him to do anythingwas a dangerous strategy.Better thathewasgone, thanthatshehadtokillhim.

“All right,” she saidcoldly.“Pleasejustdon’tstartawar.”

~

FatimemybrotherwasdistractedbyhiswoundsandthelossofBrittaanditslippedhis

mindthathe’dswornvengeanceagainstaninnocentmerchantwomaninNefión.

Recovery

Smoke woke again in theevening, feelingwell enoughtoget up andwalk about theroom. Ketty wasn’t at allpleased with his progress.“Youshouldnotbewalking!You’re too weak for this.You’regoingtofall.”

He couldn’t rememberanyone fussing over himbefore.Itwasoddlypleasant,though kind of insulting too.“The Bidden aren’t weak,Ketty. If we don’t die

outright, then we recoverquickly.”

“You haven’t recoveredyet. Look how swollen yourpoorshoulderis.Youhaven’teven eaten yet—and Iwatchedhalfyourblooddrainaway!”

“I have blood enoughleft to fillmewhen I look atyou. Ketty, you’re sobeautiful. If you want me tolie down again, then take offallyourclothesandcome lie

downwithme.”The scathing look she

gave him could have meltedcandles. “What kind of manare you that you can eventhink of your own pleasurewhenourBrittaisgone?”

He frowned at her inpuzzlement. What did onehave to do with the other?“Why shouldn’t I think ofyouwhen you’re here besidemeandit’sbeensolong?I’vebeen dying for you. It’s long

past the second moon.” Heslipped his one good armaround her, and though sheturned her face away, hekissed her neck andwheedled,“Please?”

It took some work, buteventually he persuaded herintobed.Hewassurprisedtodiscovershewasashungryashewas. She helped him intoher sacred gate. Then shegrabbed his hips and thrustherself against him, her lips

nibbling at his neck and hischest while he leaned on hisgood arm. How was hesupposed to know the effortrequired of himwould ignitesuch a fiery pain in hisshoulder? Ah, but it did. Ared hot poker thrust throughhis flesh would surely havebeennoworse.

Ketty was so deep intoherpleasureshedidn’tnotice.Shewrappedherarmsaroundhim and pulled him close,

crushinghisleftarmbetweenthem. “More, Smoke,more,”shewhispered,ashetriednotto scream. “Ah, suchsweetness, I love you somuch.”

He held on until shefinished. It was a matter ofpride. And was she gratefulafterward? No! She beratedhim for half an hour justbecause the pain got so badhe was left retching on thepillow.

Takis barred anyone fromentering Smoke’s roomexcept herself, Tayval, andKetty, while Smoke was notallowed to leave—not bywalking anyway. “TheKoráyoshateyou,”Takistoldhimbluntly.“Therearemanywho would kill you if theycould,formurderingDehan.”

Smoke shrugged it off.What did he care? “It wasDehan who forced me backhere.Ididn’twanttocome.”

“Do you think thatmatters? The people lovedDehan. They don’t love you.You will stay here in yourroom, so no one will betemptedtobethehero.”

But she broke her ownedict a few days later bybringing a stranger to hisroom.

Smoke’s recovery hadcontinued its rapid pace.Ketty had gone out, so he’dshovedthesparsefurnishings

against the walls and waspracticing with his sword, togettheknackoffightingwithhis left arm strapped anduseless against his chest.Takis had given him a newblade, and its smooth, sharpedgewhistled through theairas he progressed through theexercises. He was shirtlessand sweating, his honey hairboundup ina topknotwhenthe door opened without aknockandTakiscameinwith

aKoráyos soldier.Ormaybehe was a former soldier;thoughhehadthebearing,hewasn’twearingtheuniform.

Smoke ceased hisexercise,buthedidn’tputtheblade away just yet. Hestudied the soldier for amoment, then, “Seök,” hesaid, recalling a name andface fromat least threeyearsbefore.“Soyou’renotoneofthosewhowantstokillme?”

“How do you know

Seök?” Takis asked insurprise.

Smokegavethememorya moment to fully surface.“You served in theborderlands, right?” Seöknodded. “Your company hadthe misfortune to stumbleonto the irregulars when wewereatworkcarryingouttheTrenchant’s orders—but he’snottheTrenchantanymore,ishe? We were carrying outDehan’s orders. You didn’t

know about the villagemassacres before that, didyou?”

“I didn’t, sir, and wewere toldnot to speakof it.”Seök was so on edge hisvoice was little more than awhisper. If he’d been armed,Smokedidn’t doubt his handwould be tight on the hilt ofhissword.

“I’m sending Seök withyou,” Takis announced. “Iknow you’ve never bothered

tolearnthepathsthroughtheEast Tangle, but Seök willguide you. He knows themall.”

“I don’t think that’s agood idea. He’s afraid ofme.”

“Doeshehavereasontobeafraidofyou?”

Smoke shrugged. “Nomorethananyone.”

“Swear that you won’thurthimorhiskin,thatyou’llhold your temper in check,

that you will not seekvengeance for any perceivedslight—”

“When do I ever dothat?”

Shesmiled.“Everyoneisafraid of you, Smoke. Deathis your nature. I think onlyTayval knows how manyyou’veslain,andmaybeevenshe doesn’t know all. Men,women,children—”

“Ididn’twanttokillthewomen and children! Dehan

demandedit.”“Allofthem?”“Yes, all!” But that

wasn’t quite true. “Almostall,”heamended.“Therewasone—”

“Yes?”With a sudden sick

feelingherememberedhowithad felt to drive his swordthrough the midwife’s heart.“She cursedme for it, but itdoesn’tmatter.”

Takis’ gaze was stern.

“Swear you will not assailSeök, or his kin, so he willnot need to be afraid in yourcompany.”

Smoke shrugged. Hewas a murderer; he had afearsome demeanor. It wasnatural for people to beafraid. “I swear it. I will notassail either Seök or his kinand if it’s in my power I’llprotectthemfromharm.”

Takis turned to Seök.“You may go now.” When

the door had closed behindhimshewalkeduptoSmoke.“Handmeyoursword.”

“Why?”“Justdoit!”“Whyareyoualways in

such a bad mood?” But hehandedtheswordovertoher.

Shesteppedback,turnedthe blade around, and withlightning speed she set thepoint against his throat. “Ifyou try to run the threads, Iwillpinyou.”

He drew back, but shemoved with him. “What’swrongwithyouTakis?Haveyougonecrazy?”

“I want to tell yousomething before you find itoutonyourown.Seök is theonewho saw you in Nefión.He’s the one who broughtwordofittoDehan.HeisthereasonDehanfoundyou.”

Seök? Then it was notthemidwife’scurse?

Rage flushed through

him as he thought oneverything that had changed.If not for Seök, would heeven now be happy in theWildWoodwithKetty?Ifnotfor Seök, would Britta besafelyasleepinKetty’sarms?Seök. His babbling tonguehad wrecked everything! Itoccurred to Smoke that heshouldcutoutSeök’s tonguepriortokillinghim.Hewouldhave gone in thatmoment todoittoo,exceptforthesharp

pressure of steel against histhroat. That was the onlything thatkepthimgroundedintheroom.

“Remember your oath,”Takiswarnedhim.

“Youtrickedme!”“Idid.”“But I don’t remember

Seök! I remember a womanin Nefión—not the one Ikilled, the other one, and Ishould have killed her too, Iwill kill her—she’s the only

person who saw me andlived.”

“You will not kill her,”Takis said, pressing a littleharder with the blade. “Thatwoman was Seök’s sister.There’snocomplaintyoucanmake against her. She stillbelieves you were a visitingHauntén.Seökknewwhoyouwere, but he didn’t tell hissister.”

“Then he was there? Inthestore?”

“He was there,determined not to be noticedbyyou.”

“He betrayed me, Takis—”

“Seök did not betrayyou.He faithfully served theTrenchant,andatgreatrisktohimself. He understandsKoráyos loyalty far betterthanyoudo,brother.He’sanhonorable man, you have nocomplaintagainsthim,andbyyouroathyoumaybringhim

noharm.”Smoketriedtoseeaway

around it, but she had takenhis oath, and now he wasbound to it. It was a defeat,anditputhiminafoulmood.“Stop sticking me with myown sword. Give it back tomenow.”

Takis lowered the bladebut she did not give it back.Hergazewashardandangry,thesameas ithadbeenmostdays since he’d murdered

their father. “You’re alwaysagainst me now,” hecomplained. “But I love youstill.”

“You have no choice.”Shehandedthebladebacktohim. “You will leave in themorning with Seök andNedgalvin.”

“AndKetty.”Takis shrugged. “You

are not Bidden, Smoke, andyou don’t belong to thePuzzleLands,butyou’realso

notHauntén.”“I am Dehan’s demon

son.Iamwhathemademe.”“I hope the Hauntén

don’tkillyou.”“Isharethishope.”“I hope you live long

enoughtobringwoeandruinto the Lutawan king—and toset up Nedgalvin in hisplace.”

“You’re a very strangewoman, Takis, to send awaythe man you love. I would

neversendKettyaway.”“We do what we must,

Smoke. In the end, even youmightfinditso.”

~

Nisadangerousman,bloody

handedandruthless.Theverysamewordsmaybesaidaboutmybrother,Smoke—butSmokeisboundbyhisword.

TheRoadEastThe sky above the fortresswall was pink with dawnwhen Seök led two horses,saddled and provisioned,from the stable. One of thestableboysfollowedwithtwomore.

Seök hadSmoke’s oath,along with the assurance ofthe Trenchant Takis that herdemon brother would notseekrevengeforhisloyaltyto

Dehan, but he had a badfeelingforthisventureallthesame.

Bidden Hall’s tall doorsopened. Takis and Tayvalcame out together into themorning cold, alongwith thetall Lutawan. Seök had beenshocked when TakisintroducedhimtoNedgalvin,but the talk inSamerhenwasthat even Dehan hadcondonedtheman,thoughnoone knew why—so people

were curious.As soon as thetrioemergedonlookersbeganto gather: soldiers on theirway to the mess hall, stablehands, tradesmen,housekeepers—all eager toknowwhatpassed.

Nedgalvin bowed to theBidden twins, Takis andTayval. His dark gazelingered on Takis for longerthan seemed polite. Then hedescendedthestairsandtookhishorsefromthestableboy.

Motion drew Seök’sgazeupward,whereasnakingplume of gray vapor spilleddownalong the stone faceofBidden Hall. From theonlookerstherecameanxiousgasps and angry murmurs asSmoke materialized betweenhissisters.Hewasdressedinbritches and boots, but historsowasbareexcept for thesword on his back and thesling that still bound his leftarm against his chest. His

honey-brownhairwastiedina tail on top of his head sothat it cascaded down hisback. One by one his gazepickedout those soldiersandservants who dared to speakagainsthimandveryquicklytherewas only silence in thecourtyard.

ThenthegirlKettycamerunning out the door with aleather satchel slung acrossher shoulder and a look onher face that said she was

afraid that if she was lateshe’d be left behind. Smoketook her hand. He saidsomething to his sisters thatSeök couldn’t hear, then hebrought Ketty down thestairs.

Seök took one of thehorses forward for Ketty toride.

Smoke stuffed Ketty’ssatchelintoasaddlebag,thenheboostedherontoherhorse.Hetookafewminutesfitting

thestirrups.ThenheturnedtoSeök.Deathlookedoutofhiseyes. “My sister has giftedyourlifetoyou.Ifnotforher—”

“I understand,” Seöksaidsoftly.

Smokenodded. “I put iton you to keep Ketty safewhen I’m not nearby. She’sthemotherofaBiddenchild,and is owed Koráyosloyalty.”

Seökdidnoteven try to

conceal the keen insult hefelt.“OfcourseI’llsafeguardher! I don’t need to bethreatenedtodowhatisright.She’sclearlynosoldier,butavulnerableyoungwomanlikemy own dear wife, and isowed protection on thatalone.”

Smoke drew back,looking confounded by thisoutburst,but after amoment,he shrugged. “It’s just that Iloveher.Youunderstand?”

Seök did.Andwhat didit mean that a demon likeSmoke could have the samefeelings toward his wife thatSeökhadtowardhis?

Smoke turned back toKettytobidhergoodbye.

“But aren’t you ridingwithus?”Seökasked.

Smoke scowled incontempt at the horses. “IhateridingalmostasmuchasI hate walking. I’ll be goingahead tomake sure there are

nowolveslyinginwaitalongthe road. Bring my horsethough. I’ll likely need itlater.”

So Seök called to thestable boy to bring the otherhorse. But Smoke wasn’tquite through. He caughtSeök’s sleeve. “Keep an eyeon the Lutawan too. If heshows any disrespect toKetty, Iwant to knowof it.”Then he did as demonswill:he unfurled himself into

vapor and sped away. Thestartled horses snorted anddanced in fright, but Seökheldontothem.

When the horses werequietagainSeökclimbedintothesaddle,andastheysetouthisthoughtswentagaintohisownwifeandheofferedupashortprayertoKoráy,Please,Lady,grantthatImayseeheragain.

Seök led them east into themountains.At first therewaslittleconversation,butafteratimehefoundhimselftalkingto Ketty about his wife andhis business as a teamster,and she was excited to hearthat he had just come southfrom the Binthy sheepcountry where she’d beenborn. She didn’t talk of hermissing baby though. Therewasnopointinit.

Seök didn’t see Smoke

all that morning. Despite thedemon’sabsence,hefeltsurethey were being watched.Nedgalvinsaidasmuchwhenthey stopped to rest thehorses. “He’s heresomewhere. I can feel hispresence like a chill on theair.”

Kettyshothimanangrylook but Nedgalvin didn’tnotice.Hedidn’tspeaktoher,orevenlookather,thatSeökcould see. Of course it was

rude,butSeök figured itwasjust as well. If Nedgalvinneverspoketothewomanhecouldnotinsulther,andSeökwould ask for no more thanthat.

Midafternoon foundthem deep within the EastTangle.Theyfollowedabackroad that wound through apine forest above steepvalleys where plantations oftimber bamboo grew. Theslightest breeze would rush

through the canopy ofbamboo leaves with thesoundofacataract,butwhenthebreezerestedadeepquietfilled the mountains. It wasduring one such respite thatthey heard ahead of them aclip-clop of hooves and thecrunch of wheels against thepavingstones.

Moments later therecame around a bend in theroadafarmer’scartpulledbya gray pony. Two men

walked beside it, one young,oneold.Theylookedupwitha start at the travelers. Seökwas surprised to see fear ontheirfaces.Theywhisperedtoone another as if debatingtheiroptions.Thentheyoungman shook his head.A ponycartcouldhardlyhope to runawayfromthreehorsemen,sothey had no choice but tocomeon.

Seök waved, hoping toease their fear. “Greetings to

you,”hecalledout. “Thoughyou look uneasy—have youhadtroubleontheroad?”

“Ah, sir!” They hurriedforward, and Seökdismountedtomeetthem.

Nedgalvin followed hisexample,butKettystayedonher horse, eyeing the twofarmersanxiously.

Theolderfarmerstudiedboth Seök and Nedgalvinwith a squinting gaze. “Areyou soldiers, sir?” he asked

withsomehope.“Retired,” Seök told

him.“Ah, well.” He looked

disappointed.“It’smyadviceto you not to go on. It isn’tsafe. There’s a bloody-handed demon, not a milebehind us, waiting at thecrossroads, with long, brownhair and a beardless face,dressed in britches and boots—”

“Butnoshirt!”theyouth

cutin.“Justascabbardonhisback!”

“Yes,andhehasbutonearm,”theelderadded.

“No, Pa. His other armwasinasling!”

The father shrugged.“Anyway, he was splatteredwith blood—not his, I’dwager—though he had aterrible scar on his neck. Hewas sitting there all quiet,withhisbacktothewaystoneandhis sword across his lap,

gazing this way down theroad. He’s waiting forsomeone, I tell you. I justknowit.”

“He didn’t threatenyou?” Nedgalvin askedcuriously.

“Nah.Hesaidnothingtous, though we left him anoffering of sweet cakes. Buttherewas such a chill on theair we knew he hadsomeone’sdeathinmind.”

“He said he would look

for wolves along the road!”Kettysaiddefensively.

“Are there wolves intheseparts?”Nedgalvinaskedthefarmers.

Both looked atNedgalvin as if he wereloony. The old mananswered,“No,sir.Thesearesettledlands.”

“It doesn’t meananything,” Ketty whisperedas the two farmers went ontheirway.

Nedgalvin still didn’tlook at her. He might havebeen talking to the air whenhesaid,“Spatteredwithbloodalready. It didn’t take himlong to find some poorbastardtomurder.”

“You don’t know whathappened,” Ketty said, buthervoicewassoftwithdoubt.

Nedgalvin pretended hedidn’thearher.

They continued on.Ketty was anxious, so she

kicked her horse into a trotanditwasonlyafewminutesbefore they reached thecrossroads where thewaystone stood, but Smokewasnotthere.

Kettyrodeherhorseinacirclearoundthewaystoneasif she hoped she might findhim hiding on its other side.“Why isn’t he here?” sheaskednooneinparticular.

“He left the sweetcakes,” Nedgalvin observed.

“Gofetchthem,Seök.”Seökdid,buthebrought

them toKetty to eat. “We’regoingtoleavetheroadhere,”he told her gently. “This farnorth, the only way throughtheEastTangleisbytrail.”

She looked at him withworried eyes. “But if weleave the road, how willSmokefindus?”

Seök wondered that hecould feel Smoke’s presencealong the road while Ketty

couldnot.“Don’tworry.He’sbeenkeepinganeyeonus. Iknowit.”

A close eye, Seökthought, thoughhedidn’tsayitaloud.

~

I

theLutawankingimmortal?Manyofhispeoplebelieveit.Manybelieveheistheworldlyreflectionoftheirgod,HepentheWatcher.Ilongtoknowthetruth!If

mydutywasnottothePuzzleLandsIwouldtravelsouthtofindout.

LustSmokehadgoneaheadalongthe road first thing that

morning,alertforanysignofdanger, but of course therewas none. Theywere still inthe Puzzle Lands, whereTayval kept watch. It wasn’teven midmorning when hesettled down at a pretty spotalongsidetheroadtowaitforKettytocatchup.

He passed the timelisteningtoprayers.

Dismay, help me. Cometome,Dismay.

Thehourwasstillearly.

Hewasboredandtheprayerswerecompelling.

Dismay,avengeme!So he left the Puzzle

Landsandchasedthethreadssouth.

Hours passed on thejourney.Noonwasnearwhenhis reflection took shape intheborderlands,inagroveofoaktreesontheoutskirtsofafarm he’d never visitedbefore.Beyondthegrove,thewheat fields were tall and

green. A dilapidatedfarmhouse stood in thedistance, with a barn besideit. Between them was ahaphazard-looking paddock.Smoke counted seven horsesinside it. Too many for afarmer. These were warhorses.

Smiling in anticipation,heturnedto thegirlwhohadsummoned him. She lookedto be about fourteen years inage. No doubt she was

supposed to be tending thetwo cows that were tetheredbeneaththetrees,butshedidnot watch them. Her eyeswereclosedas sheknelt in ashaftof sunlight that reacheddown through the tree tops.Her lipsmovedas she calledto him, Dismay, please,pleasecome.

“It’s dangerous to callme,”hesaidsoftly.

Her eyes opened. Shelookedupathim.Sheshowed

no fear. “Kill me too, if itpleasesyou,Idon’tcare.”

Such cold hatredwas inhergazethathebelievedher.

“They made me theirwhore,” she said. “Justbecause our family is poor.Butthismorningtheysentmeto watch the cows becausenow they want my littlesister. She’s only twelve andas fragile as a flower. She’llbedeadbyday’send,Iknowit!”

Smoke felt his bloodheat. A flush rose in hischeeksashisheartquickenedwithdesire.“Whatwouldyouhavemedo?”

The girl got to her feet.Her head barely reached hischest but she looked at himwithsuchbeliefthatheknew,inthishour,hebelongedonlyto her. “Go to my father’shouse and kill the indolentsoldierswhoarethere.”

“It would please me to

dothis.Whoelseisthere?”“Only my sister. My

father is away, my brothershavebecomesoldiers,andmymotherisdead.”

“This is a dangerousprayer. More soldiers willcome. If you flee you’ll behunted. If you stay you’ll beblamed.”

“Kill them,” shecommanded him. “Whatevertheprice.”

Itwashiswaytosubmit

to the prayers of a womanalone and in need. So he didashewasbidden.

Hecametoolatetosavethe young girl; she wasalreadydead.

But itwasapleasureallthesame.

SmokereturnedtothePuzzleLands,materializingbesideawaystone that marked a

crossroadsintheEastTangle.He didn’t know the roadswell,butheknewthiswasthemost likely way that Seökwouldcomebecauseitwasagood road that indulged inonlytheamountofwanderingnecessary to negotiate theridges.

The first thing henoticedwhenhereturnedwasa strange tension in thethreads that underlay theroad. They felt as if they’d

just been run—and not byhim.

Atoncehewasalert.Hisfirstconcernwasfor

Ketty. He looked for her inthe threads. He and Kettywere bound to each other sohefoundheratonce.Shewasstill riding thedamnedhorse,making her slowway up theroad in thecompanyofSeökand that bastard Nedgalvin.Beforelongtheywouldreachthecrossroads—

The threads stirred witha faint vibration. Smokenoticed it only because hewas already seeking forKetty. He looked for itscause,butthevibrationfadedbeforehecould track it to itssource. He shivered, certainthatsomeforce,somepower,somespirit,wascloseby.Hehad no ideawhat it was, buthewould find out, nomatterif he had to hunt it in theforestorinthethreads.

He sat down with hisback against the waystone.Out of caution, he drew hissword from its scabbard andlaiditacrosshislap.Thenhebegan to meditate on thestructureofthethreads.

Two farmers passed byhim. He paid no attention tothem at all, but they fearedhim anyway and left sweetcakesbesidehimtopurchasehis good humor before theyhurried on down the road.

They were gone from sightwhenheagainfeltaflutterinthe threads. He was on hisfeetevenbeforeawhitemistswept from the pines. Withhis right hand he held hisswordhigh,readytostrike,asaHaunténwoman took forminfrontofhim.

Thellan.She who had aided

Pellas in the abduction ofBritta. All the frustration, allthe fury of that hour came

back toSmoke.He lungedather, swinging his sword in agreat roundhouse stroke.Thellan jumped back inshock. “I am unarmed!” sheshouted.

“Idon’tcare!”He’d grown used to the

sling.Hisbalancewasperfectashelungedatheragain,firstwith a jab that she evaded,then with a swift slice thatwould have done damageexceptthatshedissolvedinto

mist. The mist retreated andshe materialized again adozen feet away. She glaredat him, affronted. “I did notcomeheretofightwithyou!Iamunarmed.”

“Howdidyou findyourway back into the PuzzleLands?”

“I haven’t left.” Hervoice had gone inexplicablysoft:huskyandseductive.Hefeltthreadstwinearoundhimasshespoke.“I’vewaitedfor

you,Smoke.Didn’tIpromiseto?”

He shifted his feet,beginning to stalk slowlyaround her, watching for theleast moment of inattention.“Youpromised tocomeafterme. Why have you comeunarmed?” He thought ofNedgalvin and his skill atthrowingasword,andwishedhe’d practiced at it. If hecould, he would havemurdered her right then. It

mattered nothing to him thatshe was unarmed. Hepreferredit.

The threads she tried tocast around him broke andslipped away. Her eyeswidened, and for the firsttime she looked afraid.“You’re still angry over thechild.”

“OfcourseIam!”“Don’tmakeitafeud.It

wasadebtthatwasowed.It’spaidnow.”

“Don’t mistake it,” hetold her. “I’ll getBritta backif I have to burn the WildWoodtodoit.”

A look of puzzlementcameoverher.Shewhisperedas if to herself, “Wasn’t ityou? That lust I felt in thehall...”

Smoke’s lip curled. “Itwasn’t me.” Thellan was abeauty, but he hated her allthe same. He lunged again.He caught her in a moment

when her mind waselsewhere. The sword’s tiptouched her throat. Smokeglimpsed a flash of crimsonbloodasshespunaside.Thenshewasgoneagainintomist.This timeshe fled, streamingaway to the east. Smokefollowedherintothethreads.

Never before had hetrailed another through theweft and warp of the world,butheknewtheHaunténhadfollowed his lead into the

Puzzle Lands. He knew itcould be done.Andwhenhelooked he saw the way atonce. Itwasavibratingpath,akintotheleavesinathicketthat are left trembling after adeer has retreated from hisarrows. He swept after her,coming up on her ghostlyessence with unexpectedspeed.

Not knowing what waspossible,he let instinctguidehim.He surrounded her. The

pattern of his threads coiledaround hers, binding her,arresting her motion in theworld-beneathwhere nothingmay remain fixed. So theyboth became solid creatures,spilling together into theworld.

Thellan was unready.She lost her balance and fellrollingacrosstheforestfloor.Blood leaked fromher throatthoughthewoundwasslight,notnearlyenoughtokillher.

Good.In that moment, Smoke

decidedhewouldnotkillherafterall.Notyetanyway.Notwhen he might use her totradeforBritta.

Hewas still on his feet,sword in hand, so he lungedafter her, determined to usehis steel blade to pin her inthe world just as he’d beenpinned.

But the lust that hadpreoccupied Thellan before

was gone. Fear drove hernow.Shevanishedwithinthethreads as his sword stabbeddown,sothatthebladesliceduselessly through mist. Butshe formed up again not faraway.“Icametomakepeacewithyou!”

“I don’t want peace! Iwantmydaughter.”

“Best you protect yourwife, because I’m going tokillherassoonas I’mable.”With these words, Thellan

droppedagainintotheworld-beneathandthistimesheshotstraight away through thetrees.ButSmokecouldn’ttellif she went east or westbecause he didn’t knowwherehewasandthetreesintheirsummerleafhidtheskyso that each direction lookedthesame.

Lethergo then!Lethergo.TimetoreturntoKetty.

He slipped into theworld-beneathandracedwith

all speed back to the PuzzleLands.

Ketty was still riding thedamnedhorse.He formedupbeside her in a swirl of graysmoke that made the animalshy and almost unseated her.“Are you all right?” Smokedemandedashescrambledtograb the reins of her stupidhorse before it could run

awaywithher.Kettylookedathim,first

in astonishment, and thenwith a sudden rush of anger.“Wherehaveyoubeen?Iwasso afraid. And why are youcovered in blood and dirt?What have you been doing?You told me you were donewith murdering, but it isn’tso,isit?”

Smoke glanced inirritationat thebloodyswordinhishand.Heshoveditinto

his back scabbard,where theevidence of gore was not soapparent. “I never exactlysaidthat.”

Seök had been ridingahead, but now he turnedback, while Nedgalvinbrought his horse so close toKetty’s that both animalsdanced, flicking their ears inirritation. “Been outslaughtering more womenandchildren,Dismay?”

Smoke had promised

Takis toendure theLutawan,but he had not promised toendure insults. He pulled hissword out of its scabbardagain. The only question inhis mind: Whether to attackNedgalvin directly, or hishorse. Nedgalvin drew hisown blade, but Ketty hadother ideas. “Stop it!” sheshouted, turning her horse,using it to force Nedgalvinback.“Stopitnow!”

Smokegrabbedherreins

again. “Are you crazy?He’llkillyou!”

“Idon’tcareabouthim!I want the truth from you.Youdidn’t reallykillwomenandchildren,didyou?”

“No. Just a company ofLutawan soldiers who hadraped andmurdered a younggirl.”

Ketty turned to glare atNedgalvin. Smoke wassurprised to see him lookshamefaced. “War is a

terrible thing,” he murmuredas he put his sword away.Smoke was startled by thesewords. The Koráyos soldierswould say the very samething to one another whenthey did things (whenhe didthings)thatwereinexcusable.

Smoke slid his ownswordback into its scabbard.“Have you seen any sign oftheHaunténtoday?”

Nedgalvin lookedsuddenly eager. “Are they

around? That whore Thellan—she was a beauty. I’d liketoseeheragain.”

“Careful what you wishfor,”Smokesuggested.

Then Seök surprisedthem all by speaking. “IthoughtthepresenceIsensedalongtheroadwasyou.”

Smoke couldn’t look atthe man without wanting tokillhim,buthewasboundbyhis oath. “It was Thellan.She’s been hunting me, but

I’llridewithyounow,andifshecomesagainI’llkillher.”

“Smoke, no!” Kettyprotested. “If you kill her,they’ll never give us Brittaback.”

Smoke frowned,considering this. Was Kettyright? Really, this was toocomplicated.“Well,withluckshewon’tcome.”

Seök handed him thereins of the spare horse.“Tighten up the girth,” he

advised. Smoke could tell hewas angry, but it didn’tmatter.Didit?

A hard rain fell late in theafternoon, striking freezingblowsagainstthebareskinofSmoke’s back and shouldersandforcinghimtogetouthiscoat.WithKetty’shelphegothis right arm into the sleeve.Then she lifted the coat

around his shoulders andsecured the first button, buthe wouldn’t let her doanymore. “I’m not a child,”he growled, shooing heraway. “I can buttonmy owncoat.”

“Fine!Haveatit.”His cold fingers

struggledtomakethebuttonswork, and twice he caughtKetty watching him with acritical eye. So when at lasthemanaged it,hegavehera

disdainful look. “I told you Ididn’tneedhelp.”

Tohissmugsatisfaction,she turned her gaze to theDread Hammer, beseechinghelpforherself,nodoubt.

At day’s end the rainceased,butfogtookitsplace.All was silent except for thedripping of water untilsuddenly a tinkling of prettychimes sounded from thetreesallaroundthem.Almostas soon as the ringing began

the music of the chimesretreated, rolling away to theeast in a wave of sweetsound.

“What in God’skingdom is that?” Nedgalvinasked. Then, as if justrealizingit,“There’snowindtostirupsomanychimes.”

SmokewassecretlygladNedgalvinhadasked,becausehewantedtoknowtoo,buthedidn’t want to let Nedgalvinknowhedidn’tknow.

Seökglancedathimasifhe had a perfectunderstanding of Smoke’spuzzled thoughts. “It’s thetrees,” he said. “They keepwatchintheEastTangle,andring the chimes wheneveranyone approaches a borderpost.”

“The trees?” Nedgalvinsaid. “Do you take me for afool?”

Smoke snorted. “This isnot the Lutawan Kingdom,”

he reminded Nedgalvin.“Don’t abuse Seök foranswering you truthfully—though maybe he should beless free with the Koráy’ssecrets?”

Seökshrugged.They went on. Before

long they smelled woodsmoke, and soon afterward astern voice called to themfrom out of the fog, “Stopnowandidentifyyourselves.”

They had been

discovered by a company ofKoráyos soldiers, who hadcome to investigate thechimes. Some of thesesoldierswerefriendsofSeökfromhisdaysinthearmy,soonthatnighttheysleptunderaroofandwerewarm.

The border post was nestledin a pass at the summit, sotheybegan thenextdaywith

a descent, following a barelyvisible track down throughthe forest. Smoke stayedclose to Ketty and broodedover the threat made byThellan the Hauntén. Hedidn’t doubt she would keepher word and come afterKettyifshehadthechance—becausethat’swhathewoulddo.Atmidmorninghe reinedin his horse. Nedgalvin andSeök were riding ahead anddidn’t notice, but Ketty

stoppedbesidehim.“Whatisit?”

“I should send youaway.”

She looked so hurt hecould hardly stand it. “Wealreadytalkedaboutthis!”

“Ketty,you’llbe safe inthePuzzleLands.”

“I’m not staying! I’mgoingwithyou.”

“I’llbringBrittabacktoyou.”

She looked away. Her

lips were parted as if therewere words on her tonguethat wanted to step forth butthey weren’t quite braveenough to do it. Then shelookedathimagain.“Idon’tthinkTakiswillletyoucomeback.”

He laughed. “What areyoutalkingabout?”Hissmilefaded when he saw tears inher eyes. “Ketty, did Takissay she’d close the PuzzleLandsagainstme?”

“She didn’t have to sayit.Shewantedyougone.”

Smoke thought on it,remembering Takis’ badtemper,andherwordstohim—You’re notBidden, Smoke,and you don’t belong to thePuzzleLands.“Youmightberight, Ketty,” he conceded.“Andifso,there’snochoice.Youhavetocomewithme.”

Relief washed over herand she smiled so veryprettilythathewantedtotake

her down among the treeroots without another secondwasted. But of course shewouldcomplain itwasn’t thepropertime.

~

SIenvythe

Lutawanking,whoeverheis.Itmustbeconvenienttobeabletoreadthemindsofmen.

TheWildWoodIn the late afternoon they

passed beyond the border ofthe Puzzle Lands—andbeyond the protection of theborderspells.Smokewasinastate of suspense overThellan. He jumped at everyleastnoiseanddidn’tdare toleave Ketty alone. “What’sgot into you?” Ketty asked.“You’reasedgyasyouwereinthosefirstdaysafterBrittawasborn.”

“Just stay close to me,”Smoketoldher.“Idon’ttrust

thatNedgalvin.”Whentheyfoundaplace

tocampforthenight,hewentwithKettytofetchwater,andthentogatherfirewood.Seökwas tending the horseswhenthey returned, so Smokestarted the fire, and then heputtogetherasimplemealofdried fish, apples, and bread.Nedgalvin sat on the side,polishing the weapons Takishadgivenhim.

“Dismay,”hesaidaftera

time, “it surprisesmewhat afinelittlewomanyoumake.”

Ketty had been clearinga space for sleeping, butwhen Nedgalvin spoke shecaughtherbreathandsteppedback as if expecting a brawl.Smoke glanced at hercuriously. Then he looked atNedgalvin, trying to guesswhat the hell he was talkingabout. He took a wild shot.“Two days away from Takisandnowyoufancyme?”

Nedgalvin stiffened; hisbronze cheeks grew dark.“Don’t toy with me. Thereare no twisted men in thesouth. That’s a vice of thePuzzleLands.”

Smoke wasn’t sure heunderstood this, but it waseasytoseehisguesshadbeenwrong. “So what do youmean by ‘a fine littlewoman.’Isitacompliment?”

Nedgalvin turned hisgaze skyward as if to beg

patience from the DreadHammer—which was odd,because everyone knew thegod of the Lutawans, Hepenthe Watcher, despised theDread Hammer. “Of courseit’snotacompliment!Iwantto know why you’re servingas a kitchen maid when youhaveawomanwithyouwhocan do the work? It’sshameful!”

Smoke andKetty tradeda look. Seök was still

standing among the horses,but Smoke realized that hetoo was watching. Kettyspoke softly, soundingashamed. “He’s right. In thenorth, cooking is a woman’swork.Myfatherwouldnevercook.”

“I don’t cook atSamerhen,” Smoke saiddefensively. “Servants do it.But on patrol everyone takesa turn. Chieftain Rennishnever gave the duty only to

thewomen.”“I cook at home,” Seök

announced,leavingthehorsestocomestandbesidethefire,where he fixed a cold glareon Nedgalvin. “The men ofthePuzzleLandsarenotlazylike you Lutawans, and wedon’t fear our women. It’ssaidyouturnevenyourwivesintoslaves.”

Nedgalvin had beenpolishinghislongknife.Nowheturneditaround,sothehilt

wasinhishandashestoodtoface Seök. He spokecarefully.“ThewomenofthePuzzle Lands are differentthan Lutawan women, Iconcede.They’renotthedullcowswe’re cursed with. Buta man is made for war.Womenaremadetokeepthehouseandthefield.ThisisasGodintended.”

Smoke laughed. “TheDread Hammer didn’t intendany such thing. She is a

woman Nedgalvin, and it’ssaid she battled your god,Hepen theWatcher, longagoand tossed him out of thenorth.”

“That’s not a story I’veeverheard.”

Seök said, “Truth istwistedbyyourking.It’swhyyourpeoplearecorrupt.”

Nedgalvin steppedtoward him. “You dare tospeaktomelikethis?You’rea tradesman! A common

soldier.”“Truth doesn’t belong

onlytoofficers.”Smoke eyed them both,

wondering if his oath toprotect Seök includedprotecting him fromNedgalvin—but then Kettysurprisedthemallbysteppinginto the middle of theargument. “I used to pretendto be a stupid cow just tomakemy father angry, and Ididn’t care if he beatme for

it. That’s theway people arewhenyou takeawayall theirchoices.”

After a moment’ssilence, Smoke said, “Youshouldhaveletmekillhim.”

Ketty gave him a sourlook. Then she set aboutfinishing the dinnerpreparations. Seök went towash up, while Nedgalvinreturned to polishing hisweapons.

That night, Smoke waswakeful.HelaybesideKetty,hiseyeshalf-closed,listeningto the forest and to thethreads, but mostly, listeningto the whisper of distantprayers.He longed togoandanswer one or two of thembeforethesunrise.Itwasonlythe fear of Thellan that kepthimatKetty’sside.

At midmorning on the thirdday they came to the forestroad.Seökreinedinhishorseand turned to face them.“This is as far as myknowledge reaches, and it’sasfarasIwillgo.FromhereIturnsouthtoNefión.Ifyoustillwanttogoontothedarkheart you have to find yourownway.Idon’tknowwhereit’shidden.”

“I can find it,” Smokeassured him. It would be

exactly where his heartwarnedhimnottogo.

“Seök,youshouldgoonwith us,” Nedgalvin urged.“You’re a good man, youdon’t scare easily. Comealong, and I can make itworthyourwhile.”

“You have nothing Ineed,”Seökansweredhim.

Smokesmiled.Hecouldhave liked this man in othercircumstances. As it was, hestill daydreamed of slitting

histhroat.Ketty might have

guessed his thoughts. Shegavehimawarninglook,butthen she turned to Seök andsmiled. “Thank you forhelping us, and please bearourgoodwishestoyourwife,andtoyoursister.”

“Thankyou,ma’am,andmayyoufindwhatyouseek.”

As Seök rode off,Nedgalvin looked after himregretfully. “We could have

usedanotherfightingman.”“We won’t get Britta

back by fighting,” Kettyinsisted. Then she turned herhorseandsetoffeastintotheWild Wood, leaving Smokeand Nedgalvin to followbehind.

Seök had been a quietpresence,buthe’dknownthelandwell.Hisconfidencehad

infectedallofthem—butnowthey had no firm direction.Smoke felt the threads andmeasured their tensionagainst the vague dreadresiding in his heart, but hekeptchanginghismindaboutwhere they should be goinguntil Nedgalvin complained,“We’rejustwanderinginthisforest, aren’t we? You haveno ideawhere the dark heartis!”

Smoke shrugged, not

wanting to admit it. “We’retoo far north,” he decided—though he wasn’t really sureanymore which way northwas. The weft didn’t runstraighthere,andtheskywasso heavy with clouds hecouldn’t see the sun. But hecalled for a change ofdirection anyway, and theywenton.

At twilight they campedbeside a trickling brook. AsSmoke lay beside Ketty,

waiting for sleep, he listenedagain to the forest and to thethreads—but he could nothear the prayers.He realizeditwith a start.He’d come sofar east the prayers couldn’treach him. Silence wrappedhim,justas ithadwhenhe’dlived at his holding in theWildWood.

Hedecidedthatsincehewasn’t free to answer theprayers it was better not tohearthem.

Still,hemissedthem.

Onthenextdaytheywereupat first light—but it was adim, gray light filteredthrough ominous clouds.Withinanhouritwasraining.

Rather than struggleagaintryingtogethiscoatonwith only one arm, Smoketook off his sling. Kettyprotested, but he insisted he

didn’t need it anymore. Hisleftarmwasstiffthough,anditachedwhenhemoved.Theraindidn’thelp.Itkeptupallday—a hard downfall thatrarely eased. They campedearly. Nedgalvin huddledunder a tarp. Smoke andKettymadea tinyshelteroutof branches that leaked quitealot.

Rain was stillhammering down in themorning when they set out

again. Smoke studied thethreads, but they weretangled, and thoughhechosea direction, he wasn’t at allsurewhatdirectionitwas.Herode in the lead, with Kettyfollowing behind him, andthenNedgalvin.

AfteranhourorsoKettycalled out to him, “Smoke!Look at that fallen tree thereon our right.We passed thattree yesterday. I know wedid!”

Smoke turned in thesaddle toseehergesturingatthe fallen, moss-coveredtrunk of a long-dead tree onthe other side of a smallclearing.Hescowled.“We’vepassedahundredfallentrees.Howdoyouknow—”

“Because I rememberthere was wormwoodgrowingonitsotherside,andmint in the shadow of itsrottedbranches!”

“That’s ridiculous,”

Nedgalvinsaid.“We’vebeenwandering all over thisendlesswood,butwehaven’tbeenridingincircles.”

“Let’s just look,” Kettyinsisted.

She turned out to beright about the plants, andafter a minute Nedgalvinfound their hoof prints fromthedaybefore,filledupwithrainwater.

“So,” Ketty askedtentatively. “Which way is

east?”“God knows,”

Nedgalvin muttered. “ButDismaysurelydoesn’t.”

“We’reclosetothedarkheart,”Smokeinsisted.

“Howcanyouknowthatwhen you don’t even knowwhereweare?”

“Because I don’t knowwherewe are.” He turned toKetty.“WhenDehancametoourholdinghecastaglamouron the threads so I couldn’t

see the true weft of theworld.”

“Isitthesamehere?”“It’s not the same, but

the threads are confused,they’re twisted. I think theyturn back on themselves,though it’s hard to see.” Hefrowned. “It’s even hard toseeyouinthethreads.”

She looked at him withwide,worriedeyes.“Thenwearelost?”

Smokeshrugged.

Nedgalvin groused,“Yes, of course we’re lost!Wecan’tseemorethanthirtyfeet and the sun is uselessbehind these damned clouds,whichwerenodoubt sentbytheDreadHammer to add toour misery, for like anywoman, she must delight ininflictingmisery.”

“Any woman woulddelightininflictingmiseryonyou!” Ketty snapped andSmokegot ready todrawhis

sword. But to his surprise(and disappointment) theLutawanmanaged toholdontohistemper.

Ketty spoke again,tentative now. “Smoke?Instead of trying to guesswhichwayiseast,maybeyoushould just takeuswhere thethreads are the most twistedandconfused.”

Smoke thought about it.He studied the threads—andafter a few minutes he

decided therewasadirectionto the chaos. When hethoughtaboutgoingtherehisdread stirred, so he knew itwas the right direction. “Idon’t like it,” he said softly.“ButIthinkitmightwork.”

Byafternoonthethreadswereso twisted and confused thatSmoke could sense almostnothing of what lay around

them. It made him jumpy,likeablindmaninacrowdofthieves.Itdidn’thelpthattherain refused to relent.“Ketty,” he said over hisshoulder. “Maybe we shouldcampandhopetomorrowwillshowusthesun.”

When she didn’t answerhe turned around. Nedgalvinwas riding behind him. “Shehadtostop,”hesaid.“Halfaminuteago.”

Smoke couldn’t sense

her in the threads.Not at all.It was as if she’d vanishedfromtheforest.

He turned his horse andsent it racing back, only tofind Ketty a hundred feetaway,strugglingtoclimbintothe saddle. “Ketty!What areyoudoing?”

“I had to make water.”She frowned at him as if hewasbeingabsurd.

“You were gone fromthethreads!”

“It wasn’t my fault! Ihadtomakewater.”

“No,it’s just thethreadsaresochaotichere,Icouldn’tsense you. Stay close,Ketty.If you get lost, I don’t knowifIcanfindyou.

The rain went on anothernightandallthroughthenextmorning,butintheafternoonthe steady downpour eased

into a light, fog-shroudeddrizzle. Though the sun wasstill hidden everyone’s hopesrose—until they found theirway blocked by a raging,rain-swollenriver.

Smoke satdejectedlyonhis unhappy horse, staring atthemuddywaterasitchurnedbetween brimmingriverbanks. The far shorelooked to be at least thirtyfeet away. Smoke didn’tknow much about river

crossings, but he didn’t likethe lookof thisone.“It feelsdangerous,” he said, turningto Ketty. “I don’t think youcancrossit.”

“Let’s follow thebank,”Nedgalvinsuggested.“Maybewecanfindaquieterplacetocross.”

Ketty was shivering,miserable and discouraged.“Smoke, why don’t you golookforaplacetocross?Runthe threads, and we’ll wait

herewiththehorses.”Smoke was tempted. A

rest would be good for herandgoodforthehorses—andwhat a relief it would be totravelapart fromthestinkingbeasts! But he shook hishead. “The Hauntén mightcomewhileI’maway.”

“I’llbehere,”Nedgalvinsaidimpatiently.Hegotdownfrom his horse as if thedecision was already made.“She’llbesafewithme.”

Ketty looked at Smokewith her wide, sweet eyes.“The sooner we cross theriver, the sooner we’ll haveBrittaback.”

Apparently Nedgalvinwas right. The decisionalready had been made.Smoke jumped down fromthe horse. He handed thereins to Nedgalvin. Then hecaught Ketty as she slippedout of the saddle. “I didn’tthink Iwould ever say this,”

hemurmuredinherear.“Butstay close to the southerner.Better still, stay among thehorses.Thellanwon’tbeabletogettoyousoeasilythere.”

“When I first met you,you never worried aboutanything,”shechidedhim.

He shrugged. “I neverusedtocare.”

AfterDismay left,Nedgalvin

found a tree with a thickcanopy just a few feet fromthe flooding river. It keptoffmost of the drizzle, so hewaitedbeneathit.Notthattheshelter made any realdifference. He was alreadywet through and through andhadbeenforthreedays.

How he despised thisplace!TheWildWoodwasaGodforsaken wilderness.He’d never seen an endlessrain like this before. In

Lutawa the sun shonealmostevery day and water wasprecious,asitshouldbe.

Fatdropsslippedofftheleaves, drip-dripping againsttheground.Theriverrumbledpast.

Smoke’s woman haddisappearedonthefarsideofathickettoattendtopersonaldemands.Whenshereturned,Nedgalvin watched her withnarrowed eyes. She waspretty, but nevertheless he

found her dull as mostwomenwere dull.He smiledto himself, knowing Takishad corrupted him and thatordinary women couldn’tsatisfyhimanymore.

Ketty glanced at him,saw his smile, and went tohideamongthehorses.

Then somewherebehindhimheheardawomanspeak.

He spun around as ashiver of superstitious fearran through him. He stared

into the woods, but he sawonly trees, with a fewscraggly bushes betweenthem. Doubt touched him.Had he imagined the voice?Was it only a trick of therain?

Then she spoke again.This time her voice wasdistant but clear. Where areyou?

“Thellan.”Itwasher.Heknew it. He knew her voice.Itsenta rushofheat through

him. Thellan was like Takis.Shewasnoordinarywoman.

He raced to get hishorse.

Ketty was standingamong the animals. Shelooked at him with wide,frightened eyes. “You heardhertoo,didn’tyou?ItwastheHaunténwoman.”

“I’mgoingafterher.”He untied his horse and

swung into the saddle. Thenhesawher.Thellan.Shewas

a distant figure beneath thetrees, but he knew her. He’ddreamed of that tall, strongbody for days, dressed inclose-fitting leather sotantalizingthatanywomanofthe south who wore suchclotheswouldbeburned.

He kicked his horsehard, forcing Ketty toscrambleoutofthewayashechargedintothetrees.Behindhim the other two horsesneighed in protest. Maybe

theytriedtofollow,hedidn’tcare. All that mattered wasthat he was closing the gapthat separated him fromThellan.

Without taking his eyesoff her, he reached into apouch on his saddle andpulled out a narrow, six-inchsteel spike. He ducked toavoid a tree branch. Then hecalled out to her, “Thellan,whyhaveyoucome?”

For a moment he dared

tobelieveshe’dbeentouchedbythesamelustthataffectedhim.

Thenhedrewcloserandsawthecontemptonherface.A moment later shetransformed into a whitewraith of fog and streamedaway.Shewas tauntinghim!He followed her anyway,determinedtohaveher.

At the centerof a forestclearingshebecameawomanagain. She stood waiting for

him, her long hair loosearoundher shouldersandhersword raised high. “Lutawanpig!”shespatathim.“Itwasmen like you that Dehanhiredtohuntmysister.”

These words stirred inhim a flash of anger—not ather, but at those Lutawanswhohadstoopedsolowastotake the Trenchant’s money.And next he thought howbrave she was—howextraordinary—to face him

on foot as he galloped intotheclearing.Fromher stancehe knew she’d never faced aman on horseback before.Thoughhisswordwasstillinits scabbard, the advantagewashis.Herneedforrevengewouldsoonbeherundoing.

Hewasalmostontopofher when she lunged at him.He yanked the horse aside.Her blade sliced air. At thesame time he kicked free ofthe stirrups and launched

himselfather.Shewastakenentirely by surprise and theyfelltogetherintothedrippingferns.Hehadthespikeready.Hedroveitintohershoulder,pinningherintheworld.Shescreamed and thrashed like amad thing. “Thellan, hush!Hear me. Know that I’vedreamed of you ever sincethat day you came toSamerhen.”

He couldn’t tell if shelistened.Hergreeneyeswere

wild,unfocused.Andshewasstrong! Stronger than anywomanshouldbe. In thewetmuckhisgriponherslipped.She wriggled free of thespike. Then she slipped intothe world-beneath andstreamed away, a ghostlyplumeoffog.

“God bind you, youHaunténwitch!”

But Hepen the WatcherwasfarawayanddidnothearNedgalvin’sprayer.

Ketty’shorsebroke its tetherand tried to bolt whenNedgalvin galloped away.She leaped to grab its reinsand then took hold ofSmoke’s horse too. Togetherthe horses pulled her offbalance,butshedugherheelsinto thewetgroundandheldonuntiltheysettled.

Ketty was bothfrightened and furious.Thellan surely must knowwhere Britta had been taken

—butwhathopewasthereofwinning her compassionwhenNedgalvinwasafterherlikeamadman?

“May the wrath of theHammer fall on you!” Kettycried.

They had agreed tocome in peace! But theLutawan had ruined it—andforwhat?Hecouldn’thopetohold the Hauntén woman.Even if he got his hands onher,shewouldjustslipaway,

foginhisfingers.“But then,” Ketty

whispered to herself, “wemustbegettingclose.OrwhyelsewouldThellanbehereatall?”

Whyelseindeed?And with this thought

she realized that somethinghadchanged.

The voice of the riverwas softer. Ketty turned tolook,andtoherastonishmentthe level of the river was

rapidly falling. Already theflood had dropped two feetbelowthesteepbanksandasshe watched it dropped twofeet more. Ketty was soastonished it took her amoment to notice a womanstanding on the east bank—aHaunténwoman,shecouldn’tdoubtit—tallandthin,withanarrow face, but it wasn’tThellan. This woman wasolder,herhairmostlygonetosilver. It looked long, heavy

and bedraggled in the rain,butKettycouldseethegleamof her green eyes even fromacrosstheriver.

The Hauntén held aleather-wrapped bundlenestled against her shoulder.Shepatteditandswayedasawoman will do to sooth ababy. In a low, wholesomevoice she called to Ketty,“Come daughter, cross,before the Lutawan demonreturns.”

Ketty glanced behindher, but she did not seeNedgalvin.Shelookeduptheriver, but she did not seeSmoke. She looked at thewater. It still ranmuddy, butsheguessed it to benomorethan a few feet deep now,with the current runningslower. So she scrambledonto her horse and, leadingthesecondanimalbehindher,she forced it down the steepriverbank.

The mud was saturated.It gave way beneath thehorse’s weight and theyskidded down atop a small,sloppy landslide. The secondhorse balked and Kettyalmost lost the reins, but sheheld tight to the saddle andhauled on the leather strapsuntil Smoke’s horse wasunbalancedenoughthatithadtofollow.

Then both horses werein the water, wading swiftly

tothefarshore.The east bank was not

quite as steep, butKetty stillhad to work to convince thehorsestoclimbit.Sheguidedthemup at an angle, her lipspressed together as sheprayed for them not to slip.Then she was over the top,with the second horseclimbing swiftly up the paththefirsthadmade.

She jumped down atonce, leaving both horses to

wanderwhilesherantomeetthe silver-haired Hauntén,who waited for her with ahalf-smile. She held out herbundle toKetty. “This ismygranddaughter. My name isOtani, and I’m themotherofwhat was stolen to makeSmoke.”

Ketty took the bundle,and there was Britta’s prettylittle face, nose wrinkledagainst the rain drops,seeming happy to be

swaddled in blankets andpacked into the leathercarrier. Ketty sank to herknees, so overcome shethought she might faint. SheheldBrittaandkissedherandwept, while the voice of theriver grumbled beside her.Finally Ketty looked up atOtani. “I’m so sorry. I’m sosorryforwhatwastakenfromyou.”

Otani knelt with her.“My family wanted justice.

They wanted to heal myheart. It’s why they tookBritta, but another mother’spaincan’thealmine.You’vecome this far to claim her,she’syours.”

Just then a column ofwhitefogracedfromthetreeson the western side of theriver.Ketty saw it and stoodupinalarm.Thefogstreamedacrossthemuddywaterandamoment later it resolved intoThellan. Her shoulder was

bleeding, but she held herswordwithafirmgrip.Kettyshrank away, holding Brittaclose against her shoulder.What if this fierce Haunténdid not agree with gentleOtani? Thellan had come allthe way to the Puzzle Landstoclaimthischild!

But the Hauntén’s gazeswept past her, to fix onOtani.“He’sabeast,justliketheoneswhocameafteryou.Release the waters now,

beforehereturns!”Otani’s horrified gaze

was fixed on Thellan’swound. “Did he try to pinyou?”

Thellan spit hercontempt. “These Lutawansoft cocks! He had a steelspike,buthewasalone,andIescaped. Here he comes!Releasethewaters.”

Ketty saw Nedgalvinwhipping his horse to adangerous gallop as he raced

back through the trees.Otanisaw him too. Her chin rose,and immediately a lowgrumbling rumble soundedfrom upriver. Ketty gasped.“I have to cross back beforethewatercomes!”

Thellan grabbed herarm.“Don’tbestupid!”

Nedgalvin had reachedthe west bank. Ketty clearlysaw the fury on his face, butshe didn’t understand it.“He’s one of us. He said he

wouldcomeinpeace.”“He came in lust,”

Thellan said. A harsh laughescapedher.“IthoughtitwasSmoke’slustIfelt,butitwashim.”

“Smoke? And—but—him? Isn’t he in love withTakis?”

Thellan shrugged. “He’sLutawan.”

Upstream a massive toeof brown water slammedaround a curve in the bank.

Nedgalvin glanced at it, buthe whipped his horse downthe high bank anyway,forcing it into the water.Ketty was sure there was nochance that he could getacross in time, but she waswrong. His horse lungedacross thechannelandbeganclimbingthenearbankasthefloodsweptdownonhim.

Thellan saw the dangertoo.“Otani,go!”sheordered,and Otani vanished in a

plumeofgraysmoke.Thellanpointed toKetty.“Run!Takemynieceintothetreesbeforethatmadman—”

Nedgalvin crested thebank just as the flood rippedpast. He raised his whip andbrought it down hard againsthis horse’s rump, sending itflying toward Thellan andKetty.

“Into the trees!”Thellanrepeatedbeforeunfurlingintovapor.

Ketty scrambled toescape the horse’s plunginghooves.

What was going on?What was happening?Nedgalvin had never beenfriendly, but he’d traveledwith them, eaten food withthem, promised Takis hewould start no war with theHauntén—but ifKettyhadn’tgotten out of his way hewouldhaverunherdown.

So she took Thellan’s

advice at last and ran towardthetrees.

Nedgalvin spun hishorsearoundandcutheroff.

Shefroze,stillclutchingBritta against her shoulderanddaring to hope hewouldsomehowprovetobeafriendand not an enemy. But hopewitheredunderhisgrimstareand died utterly when hedrew his sword. “Call themback, Ketty, or I’ll kill youandthechild.”

A breeze rustled theleaves, giving them awhisperingvoicejustlikethatday in midsummer beforeBritta was born, only thistime she understood them.Run,Ketty,theysaid.Run!Atthe same time a heavywhitemist flushed up from theground, like the mist Smokehadcalled tohide themfromherfather.

Kettyran.Nedgalvin was between

herandthetreessoshedartedforthehorsesinstead.They’dfound a bush to chew on afew paces up the riverbank.WithBritta snug in her rightarm, she caught the nearesthorse and scrambled one-handed into the saddle. Thenshekicked ithardandsent itrunning.

But Nedgalvin wasalreadybesideher.Heforcedhishorse againsthers so thatshe almost lost her seat.

Holding tight toBritta,Kettyleaned forward to grab thereinclosetothebit.Thenshehauledashardasshecould.

The horse slipped andalmost went down, but itrecovered. Ketty dug herheelsintoit.“Run!Run!”shescreamedasitracedawayatarightanglefromNedgalvin.

But then Thellan cameback. Ketty saw her thirtyfeet ahead, then twenty, thenten, her arms waving

franticallyasshescreamedatKetty, “Turn back! Turnback!”

As the horse plungedpast her Ketty saw the riverjust ahead, its muddy watersrunning even faster thanbefore as if to make up forbeingpentin,heldback.

Kettyhauledhardonthereins but the horse lost itsfooting in themud. She keptherseatasitwentdownonitschest.Shecouldfeeltheswirl

of water against her foot.Then the horse was lunging,struggling to get back to itsfeet.

That was when theriverbank collapsed. Ketty’sarm tightened around Brittaas a wave of muddy waterenfolded her, pummeled her.She lost her grip on thesaddle. She felt herselftumbled, rolled, whirledaround and around, and allshe could think was that she

had to hold ontoBritta, holdontoBritta,holdon...

TheHaunténwhorehadcomeback.

Nedgalvinsawhertrytowave the idiot Binthy girlaway from the water, butKetty went in anyway,disappearing like a droppedstone beneath the flood, andthebabywithher.

Thellanscrambleddowntheriverbank,hergaze intentonthewaterasiftherewasachance she could fish Kettyout! Her back was turned toNedgalvin. She seemed tohaveforgottenhewasthere.

He got out his bow andnocked an arrow. Thellan’spursuit of the current wasstoppedbya large treeat thevery edge of the water. Shepaused beside it, her palmpressed against the trunk as

she leaned out to search thewaterdownstream.

Nedgalvinaimedforherhand.Thearrowflew true. Itpierced Thellan’s palm,nailing her hand to the tree.Shescreamed,butshedidnotvanish. The steel arrowheadin her flesh pinned her inhuman form. Nedgalvin senthis horse racing to close thegap between them as sheseized the arrow’s shaftwithher other hand and tried to

pullitout.MudflewoverherasNedgalvin’shorse skiddedto a stop. He jumped out ofthesaddle.

Thellan saw him andreached for her sword butNedgalvin was faster. He hither with his fist, aroundhouse blow to the sideof her head, and then hecaughtherasshecollapsed.

He worked thearrowheadoutofthetree,butnotoutofherpalm.Hebroke

theshaftoff,andthenheusedapieceofclothtobindupherhand. He would do a properjob of pinning her later. FornowhewantedtobefarawaywhenSmokecameback.

He heaved her swordintotheriver.Thenhehoistedher over his shoulder andreturnedtohishorse.

A long, terrible wailresounded through thetreetops. The other Hauntén,the bedraggled, gray-haired

old witch, coalesced beneaththe trees, just a few feetaway. Nedgalvin glared ather. Very calmly he said,“Stayback,orI’llkillher.”

Hedidn’t think itwouldcome to that. The oldHauntén didn’t look likemuchof a threat. Shewasn’teven armed and, obedient tohis order, she backed away.She spoke as she did so,thoughhecouldn’thearwhatshe was saying. He didn’t

care.He hauled himself ontothe horse. Then, settlingThellan’s limp form in frontof him, he set off at a slowcanter,headingsouth.

Thesurvivinghorsesawhim and, unwilling to be leftalone in the forest, itfollowed.

~

Mfather,DehantheTrenchant,wasacruelandmurderousman,butheservedtheKoráyospeopleandtheylovedhimforit.No

doubtitwillbethesamewithmynephew.Thoughhe’sstillatinycreaturewithinTakis’womb,hewillbeTrenchantafterher,andlikeanystrongleader,he’lldowhat’s

necessarytopreserveanddefendthePuzzleLands.BycontrastmybrotherSmokeismurderousbutnotcruel—andtheKoráyospeopledespisehim.Why?Becausehe’s

capableofmurderwithoutpassion;murderasamatterofconvenience.Anyonecouldbehisnextvictim,andeveryonewhomeetshimknowsit.

RetributionSmoke had been gone farlongerthanhe’dintended,butitwashardtorunthethreadshere on the edge of the darkheart, where every geometrydistorted his vision andpushedhimaway.Butat lasthe’dcomeacrossawide,stillpoolatthetopofawaterfall.He guessed it was deep, butthe current was slight and itlooked like it would be safe

enough for the horses toswim. He was trying todecidehowfaralongtheriverhe’d come when a prayerreachedhim.

It was an irresistiblesummons, impossible toignore, delivered in awoman’s voice, one he’dheardbefore,demanding thatheCome.Now.

Hedoveintothethreads.For a moment he was lostamong their coils and tricks,

but then a clean path blazedbefore him and he raced itslength.

Manyminutespassedashe traversed the world-beneath until the prayerbrought him back to thatpointontheriverwherehe’dleft Ketty—except that hewasnowon theeastbank.Awomanstoodalonewithinanexpanse of mud churned upby horses’ hooves. She wasHauntén.

Smokemadethemistakeof looking into her gleaminggreen eyes. He felt his soulbegin to tear, just as it hadwhen he’d met Pellas’ gaze,just as it had when he’dglimpsed the spirit in themidwife’s cottage. A cryrippedfromhisthroat.Hefellto his knees, raising his armto hide his eyes. He didn’tneed anyone to tell him thetruth.His blood told him thetruth.Thiswasthesamespirit

he’d seen in the cottage, anditwashisHaunténmother.

Herfootstepsdrewnear,squishing in the mud. Herhand squeezed his shoulder.Then she crouched besidehim.Her arms encircled himandhe felther trembling.Heguessedthatshewept.

“I’m not him,” Smoketoldherharshly.

“I know it,” sheansweredinalowandtendervoice.“Don’tbeafraid.Look

atme.”“Ican’t!”“Lookatme.”Itwasthe

commandofawomanandhewas compelled by it, just ashe’d been compelled by thecommand of the midwife—untilshe’daskedtoomuch.

He looked up, and onceagain hemet her green gaze.He felt the terrible pain offission but this time it lastedonlyamoment,beforeswiftlyfading. “I give you up,” she

said firmly. “I release myclaim on you. Be what youare.”

He couldn’t see theworkings of her spell, but aseam he’d never been awareof sealed inside him and hefeltwhole,strongerthanhe’dbeen just amomentbefore—untilshetorehimapartagainby telling him all that hadhappened.

He stood on the riverbank,staring at the rushing brownwater, and it seemed to himhe looked at a flowing,sinuousmonster,onethathadgobbled up everything thatmatteredtohim.

Otani stood beside him.“Your obligation is to theliving,” she said. “I put it onyoutorescueThellan.”

Thellan?Smoke hated Thellan.

Buthedidashewastold.

HehuntedNedgalvinthroughthe threads, which werestraightening, unwindingbefore him, untangling atOtani’s command. He foundthe Lutawan already threemilesdowntheriver.

Smoke burst intoexistence in front ofNedgalvin’s horse. Steppingto one side, he heaved upwith his sword, and slicedhalfway through the horse’sneck. Blood fountained

against the drizzling rain.Smokewasshoweredinit.

“God curse you!”Nedgalvinsworeashishorsewentdown.Hekickedfreeofthe stirrups and, abandoningThellan,hejumpedclear.

Smoke tossed his swordaside, leaving him two freehands.HecaughtThellananddragged her away before shewas crushed beneath thehorse. She was barelyconscious, but her fist was

raised against him. Heignoredherfeebleblowsand,using his knife, he slicedthrough thecloth tiedaroundher palm. Her hand was abloody,purplingmess,buthehadnomercy.Heyankedthesteel arrowhead all the waythrough.She screamed at thesuddenpain.“Areyouawakenow, little Lutawan slave?Thengoaway.”

Shedid,dissolvinginhishands,justasNedgalvintried

to take off his head with agreat, swinging stroke of hissword.Smokeducked,sothatthe blade screamed past theknotofhislonghairandthenhe lunged, tacklingNedgalvin, hitting his legswith his shoulder and ridinghim to the ground, his armswrapped around his thighs.Nedgalvin fought back,cracking Smoke in the headwith the hilt of his sword.Smokeranthethreads.

He materialized besidehissword,butNedgalvinwasalready there, waiting forhim.Smokedovetoonesideto avoid a thrust. Nedgalvinused the moment to liftSmoke’sswordwithhisboot.He caught it in his left handandhurleditintotheriver.

Smoke pulled the twoknives fromhis belt, and ranthethreads.

The vapor of hisreflection circled Nedgalvin,

then settled behind him.Nedgalvin wasn’t fooled. Heslammed an elbow back, butSmoke dodged the blow anddroveaknifeintohisback.

Nedgalvinlurchedaway.He had his own knife. Heturnedsuddenlyandhurleditat Smoke in an underhandthrow. Smoke jumped backand used the blade of hissecondknifetofenditoff.

Nedgalvin still had hissword. He lunged forward,

thrusting at Smoke’s chest,butagainSmokedroppedlowto the ground. Then helaunched himself up, and thebladeofhisknifedisappearedintoNedgalvin’sribcage,onapath that carried it into hisheart. He yanked the knifeout again and Nedgalvincrumpledtotheground.

Smokestaredathim,hisshouldersheaving.Takiswasgoing to be furious, butreally, she had nothing to

complainabout.She’dgottena child out of the Lutawan.That was what she wantedmost. “Sorry sister,” hegrowled. “Iguess it’s not foryoutobeakingmaker.”

Above his head the wetleaveswhispered inpleasure.Smoke listened a moment totheirmurmuring,butitwasn’tgiven to him to understandtheirwords.

It didn’t matter. Kettywas gone. Britta was gone.

Hecriedforatime.Maybeitwas a long time. He stirredagain only when somethinglargeandstrongandstinkingsnorted its hot breath againsthisneck.Helookeduptoseea horse—the last survivor ofthe three they had riddenfrom Samerhen. It still woreitssaddle,bridle,andbags.

Hedespisedhorses.But he would have a

better vantage from its backandmaybehewouldfind...

well. It didn’t bear thinkingon, what there might be tofind.

He collected his knivesand took Nedgalvin’s swordto replace his own. Then hestarted to mount—but to hissurprise the stirrups were settoo short. That’s when herealized the surviving horsewasnothis, butKetty’s.Shemust have taken the wronganimal when she was tryingtoescapeNedgalvin.

Smoke’sgazefellonthesaddle bags. He might havebeen staring at a snake. Heknew what he’d find there,but he opened the bagsanyway. One was full ofclothing and dried food. Theotherheldthesatchelwiththemidwife’s books. They werea curse!He did not doubt it.Themidwife had cursed himfor her murder and he hatedher for it! In thatmomenthewould have killed her again,

and this time he would haveenjoyedit.

But Ketty was gone.AndBrittawasgone.Andheknewitwasretributionforhiscrime.

He lengthened thestirrups,thenhemountedandsetoffdowntheriver to findthebodies,ifhecould.

The river curved to the

southwest, and as it rolledfartherfromthedarkheartthechaotic tangle of threads inthe world-beneath eased, butthe fine threads that boundSmoke to Ketty were notrevealed.

Very late in theafternoon, the horse prickeditsears.Itsstrideslowed,thenit stopped altogether andSmoke felt a trembling in itswithers. He held his breathand listened. After a few

seconds he heard faint overthe roar of the river awolf’slonghowl.

The horse snorted andsidestepped.

“Get on!” Smokegrowledatit,settinghisheelsfirmly against its ribs. Itmoved on, displaying a trustin its rider thatstruckSmokeasquiteunwise.

Hesawthewolvesafewminuteslater,atabendintheriver. They were at the

water’s edge, feeding on thebody of a horse that hadlodged against the muddybank.Hetiedhisownanimalsecurely, then he ran thethreads, materializing in themiddle of the pack. Theanimals fell back in shock,growling and snapping athim,butheansweredthemintheir own language, and theydidn’tdareattackhim.

He studied the deadhorse.Itwascertainlyhis.He

recognized the saddle andbridle, and the markings onits legs. Next he walked upand down the shore to seewhat else the current hadbrought, but there was nosignofKettyorBritta.Sohereturned to the survivinghorse and, giving thewolvesawideberth,herodeon.

Twilight was on himwhen he saw ahead the firstsign of a human presencesince leaving the forest road:

a rope bridge with a plankfloor, making a way acrossthe river. He pulled back onthe reins, bringing the horsetoasuddenstopasashiverofterrorsweptthroughhim.

He hadn’t expected tocomehere.

Why had fate broughthimhere?

He raised his gaze,peering into the gatheringdusk on the far side of thebridge,knowingalreadywhat

he would see: the cottage ofthe midwife of Nefión,huddledinitsforestclearing.

What more retributiondidsherequire?

Hesetthehorsewalkingagain until he came to thebridge. The river ran only afew inches below it. He gotdown and led the horse, itshooves clomping softlyagainst the planks as itcrossed.Adimglimmeringoffirelight leaked from under

thecottagedoor.Hestaredatitforafewseconds,butthenhe rallied himself and,securing the horse, he tookthe satchel that held themidwife’s books and walkedtothecottagedoor.

Once there, he listenedfor a moment, but he couldhear no sound of movementfrominside.

Heopenedthedoor.Of course there would

benocorpseonthefloor.He

knewthat.Still,itwasareliefto see that shewas gone. Tohis surprise though, thecottage was empty, and theair was cold and mustydespite the gleamof firelightfrom the hearth. He steppedinside.A candle on the tableflickeredinthedraftfromthedoor, so he closed it. Helooked at the hearth. It wascleanofashandcoals,withanewlylaidfirethathadn’tyetlickedtheendsofthewood.

Smoke took the threebooks out of the satchel andsetthemintheiroldplaceonthetable.

Something hit the backdoor with a loud thump andSmoke jumped so hard healmost knocked the booksoveragain.

Another thump, and thebackdoor bumpedopen.Butit moved only a few inches.Thewoodwasswollensothebottom of the door scraped

against the floor. A thirdthump forced it open enoughthat a woman was able tosqueeze in sideways throughthe gap. She was wet, herdarkhairencrustedwithmud,and on her face there was ascowlofbadtemper.

Smokeknewthatscowl.Ketty!Nestled in the crook of

her left arm was a blanket-wrapped bundle. In her righthand she hauled a basket of

firewood. She dropped thebasket on the floor, thenturned to close thedoorwitha hard kick. She’d been sofixedongettingpastthestuckdoor with her burdens thatshe hadn’t even noticed himstanding there.Butwhen shelookedupagainherbeautifuleyeswentwide.Her lusciousmouth opened in theastonished, delightful “O” ofsurprisehelovedsomuch.

He was too stunned to

move.Ketty though, was in a

temper.Shestompedherfoot,pursed her lips, anddemanded in a fierce wolfsnarl, “Where in thenameoftheDreadHammer have youbeen?”

From the blanket-wrapped bundle in her armsthere came a soft, bleatingcry.

Smoke reached deepdown and found his voice.

“Ketty, is it you? I couldn’tsense you. The threads arebroken. You’ve beenchanged.”

Herdirtyfacescrunchedupasifshewasabouttocry.“Of course it’s me!” Thensuddenlyshewasacold,wetbundle in his arms, withBritta sandwiched betweenthem, her little handssqueezingatherblanketandaconfusedpoutonherface.

“Howcanyoubealive?”

Smoke whispered even asnew threads coiled aroundthem. “How did you escapethe river?Howdid you keepBritta from being sweptaway?”

Her free hand made afist.Sheglaredupathimwithafierygazeandthumpedhimhard against the shoulder. “Ididn’tcomeallthiswaytoletBrittadrown!DidyouthinkIwould let that happen? Didyou?”

Smoke swallowed hard.“I thought therewasnohopeandyouweredead.”

The fire went out ofKetty’s eyes. She laid herheadagainsthischest.“Itwasall mad, pummeling water.Mud in my mouth and myeyes.All I could thinkwas Ihad to keep Britta’s face outof thewater.Wewere rolledand plunged under, I don’tknow how many times, andlogs struck against me. I’m

bruised all over. Then I sawthebridge.Thecurrentsweptme into it, so I grabbed therope.IalmostlostBritta!”

“Butheresheis,”Smokesaid,watchinghisdaughterasshestudiedherblanket.“Yousavedher.”

Kettypushedhimaway.“I am so angry with you!Whydidn’tyoucometofindus?”

Was this the midwife’sretribution? That Ketty

should hate him? “Thethreadswerebroken,Ketty. Ithoughtyouweredead.”

“I’m not dead! Can’tyou see that? Now put somewood on the fire. I’m socold!”

Hedidashewastold.Next hewent outside to

fetch her clothes from thehorse. When he came back,she’d discovered the bookson the table. She turned tohim in astonishment. “Did

youputthesehere?”He nodded warily. “It’s

where they came from,Ketty.” She gave him asideways,suspiciouslookandhe suddenly regretted sayinganything. Before she couldask more questions hereached for the baby. “I’llholdBritta,whileyouchangeintodryclothes.”

Afterward they sat on arug by the fire while Kettynursed the baby. Her milk

was almost dry, but Brittatook what she could, andslept. Ketty put her in thebed, thenreturnedtothefire.“Tellmewhathappened,”shesaid.

Smoke nodded. “Well,Nedgalvin took the Haunténwomancaptive—”

“Not that. You can tellme that later—I know youmusthavekilledhim—Iwantto know about the books. Ithought you brought them

back from Nefión. So whatdo they have to dowith thiscottage?”

Smoke smiled,determined to distract her.“Nefión’s only a mile or soalonga littlepath.Soyou’vecome here at last. I’ll takeyou to visit tomorrow if youlike. There’s no danger in itnow.”

Her gaze was cold. Sheknewhim toowell. “Tellmeaboutthebooks.”

His chin rose. Given achoice he would have saidnothing, but she had biddenhim to speak the truth.Whatan infernal fate! To becommandedbytheprayersofhis own wife. But there wasnochoiceinit.Sohetoldherwhathe’ddone.

She looked at him inhorror. Perhaps she regrettedasking?Hehopedso.

She looked at the floorwhere they were sitting. He

could guess her thoughts.Here,thisfloor,thisiswhereheleftthebody.

“I had no choice!”Smoke insisted. “I couldn’tletDehanfindoutaboutus.”

But that wasn’t reasonenough...wasit?

“You murdered her,”Ketty whispered. “She wasinnocent,andyoukilledher.”

“And I’ve been cursedeversince!”

Shestaredatthefire.

“Don’t Ketty,” hewhispered. “Don’t break thethreadsthatbindus.”

“Gotendthehorse,”shesaid coldly. “You may sleephere by the fire tonight, butdonotcomeintomybed.”

“Ketty—”“Go.”

Hestartedhearingtheprayersagain when he was outside.

Hestood fora time,hiseyeshalf-closed, listening to thecompellingvoicescallinghimby the name they had giftedhim: Dismay, Dismay. Hesmiled in anticipation. Itwasabitterthingtospillinnocentblood,hehadlearnedthatalltoowell, but hewould neverregretthebloodoftheguilty.

The cottage dooropened,releasingalittlelightinto thenight. In a flatvoiceKetty said, “I know they’re

callingyou.Areyougoing?”Smoke let out a breath

hehadn’tbeenawarehewasholding. “No. No, I’mcominginside.”

She’d left food on thetable for him—crackers,cheese,anddriedapplesfromthesaddlebag—butinsteadofsittingdownwithhim to eat,she crawled into bed withBritta.

“I’llhunt tomorrow,”hetoldher.

Shedidn’tanswer.“Ketty,youknowI—”“Idon’twanttotalk.”“But—”“Don’t talk to me,

Smoke.”So he was commanded

tosilence.Itwassounfair.He blew out the candle

andlaydownbythefire,buthe didn’t sleep. The voicesdidn’tlethim.

Come Dismay, theypleadedwithhim.Avengeme.

Avengeme.

~

Hisamurderer,mySmoke,abloody-handeddemon.Dehan

theTrenchantbelievedSmokewashistocommandanddiedfortheerror.It’scleartomenowmybelovedbrotherbelongstotheDreadHammer.Heisaweapon

madetoserveHerruthlesspurposeandHerpurposealone.IofferupmythanksthatShe’stakenhimawayfromthePuzzleLands—andI’vetangledthethreadstoensurehe

cannotreturn.Smokehasneverkeptcountofthedead.LettheDreadHammerkeepcountforhim.It’snotmytaskanymore.

AftermathKettystillhadnothing tosayto him in the morning, noteven a thank you for thebreakfast he cooked for her.She nursed Britta again, andthis time she hadmoremilk,though not nearly enough,and Britta was left hungryand fussy. When she startedwailing, Smoke rememberedhe needed to go outside tocheckonthehorse.Brittawas

still crying, so he passed thetimewalkingaround,lookingat the well and the gardenovergrown with weeds. Heglimpsed a grave beyond thegarden,buthedidn’tgothere.

WhenBrittafinallygaveupcomplaining,hewentbackinside. His heart almoststopped when he saw theHauntén Otani in a chair bythe hearth, holding Britta inherarms.Kettywassittingonthe rug at her feet, watching

Otani with a half-smile, buther sweet expression turnedinto a cold glare when shenoticedSmoke.

He tookoffhisboots toavoidtrackinginmud.

“Willyouforgivehim?”Otaniasked.

“Idon’tknow.”“You’re a cruel wife,

KettyoftheRedMoon.”If ithadbeen inKetty’s

power to slay with a look,thosewould likelyhavebeen

thelastwordsheeveruttered.“I’mgoingtostayhere,”

sheannounced,standinguptofacehim.“Otanisaysthatnoone has dared to live in thiscottage sinceyou—Well,noonehas.Ihavethebooks,andOtaniwill teachmewhatshecan,andI’lllearntobeawisewoman—a healer and amidwife—and maybe it willmake up somewhat for whatyoudidhere.”

Smokerememberedhow

she’d loved the books fromthe moment she saw them.Even the terrifying drawingsof wounds and birth hadfascinatedher.“Ithinkitwasdecided long since,” heconceded.

“OtaniwillhelpmeraiseBritta,” she went on. “She’lllearnabouttheHaunténfromher grandmother, and she’lllearn about human peoplefromme.”

Smokewaitedtobetold

hisroleinthisnewfamily...ifhehadone?

Ketty gazed for amoment at Britta, asleep inOtani’sarms.ThensheturnedagaintoSmokeand,crossingher arms over her chest, shesaid, “You were restless lastnight. I know you werehearingtheprayersagain.”

“Iliketohearthem.”“You like to answer

them.”“Whynot?IamDehan’s

demonson.”Otani lifted the sleeping

baby to her lips and kissedher. “Everything has a cost,”shesaid.“Everytransgressionrequires atonement.” Shelooked up. Smoke met hergaze, but no longer did hefeel his soul tearing in two.She said, “Dehan wasn’t theonly one involved in yourmaking. It’s my fault too, Ithink, that you are what youare.Iwasbereftwhenmyson

was taken from me and formany moons I prayed to theDread Hammer forvengeance. I think Shegrantedmyprayerbyshapingyou into Dismay, the bloodyhand of a woman’sretribution.”

“So go!” Ketty shoutedat him as her simmeringangerboiledover.Shewavedherhandsathimasiftoshoohim out the door. “If you’rebiddentoservethewomenof

thesouth, thendo it!Do thatservice the Dread Hammerhasmadeyoufor!”

“Iwill.Ihaveto.”Hewentbacktothedoor

and put his boots on againandthenhiscoatwhileKettywatchedhim,soprettyinherbluedressandsoveryangry,with a wolf’s snarl on herface. He’d left his bow andhis sword leaningagainst thewall.Hetookthemup.Therewas nothing else he needed

except to know the truth.“Ketty . . . do you still loveme?”

She stomped her footandclenchedherfists.“Don’task me that, you idiot!” Herbeautiful eyeswere suddenlysloppy with tears. “That’swhatmakesitallsohard—ofcourseIdo!”

He ducked his chin anddared a half-smile. “I’mgoing now. But pray to me,Ketty,when youwantme to

comehome.”Shetriedtobitedownon

a smile, but she couldn’t doit. Tears were running freelydown her cheeks. “Go,” shewhispered, waving him offagain. “Go—but listen forme.”

He nodded. Then hereached for the threads. Hisreflection dissolved into acolumn of gray vapor thatrose up through the roof andwasgone.

Don'tMissStoriesofthePuzzleLands-

Book2

HepentheWatcherContinuetothenextpagetoreadtheopeningchapters.

MythicIslandPressLLCpresents

StoriesofthePuzzleLands-Book2

HepentheWatcher

byLindaNagata

Ataleofexile,rebellion,fidelity,andfire

The demon Dismay’smurderousnaturehasearnedhim the ire of his belovedwife,whohas sent himawayinafitoftemper.Inhisexilehe ventures south into theland of Lutawa, drawn thereby theprayersofabusedanddesperate women who beghim togrant themvengeanceagainst the men who cruelly

rule their lives—and Dismayispleasedtodoit.

Still,murderishardanddirtywork.When an avid desire for abath brings him to a fineLutawanestate,hemeetstwobeautiful young women. Uiand Eleanor are well-acquainted with thewhispered talesof thedemonDismay, who slays men butnever women, and they’re

delighted to entertain theirfearsomeguest,buttheywarnhimtobeware.

Lutawa is ruled by animmortal king, who punishestreason with the terribleweapon of infernal fire.Believing this king to be thesamecrueldeityknowninthenorth asHepen theWatcher,Dismayresolvestokillhim—and accidentally draws UiandEleanorintohisschemes.

ThosewhohelpDismayriskafierydeath, thosewhohinderhim risk the demon’s bloodyretribution, while Dismay,still yearning for his wife’sforgiveness, discovers thatlove can be as hazardous asthe wrath of Hepen theWatcher.

*******

HepentheWatcher

DemonDismay,pleasekillthem.Killthemtonight,ohplease.

Her lips shaped thesilent words, this young girl,nine or ten years of age,kneelingonthedirtfloorofatiny hovel, her head bowedand hands clasped together.She prayed in a shadowedcorner, outside the reach of

moonlight intruding throughan unshuttered window. Thesilverglowfellinsteadacrosstwo men, asleep on a strawpallet.Bothwerenaked,theirsmall,wirybodieswornwithlabor, their skin wrinkledwithtimeandwashedgrayinthe moonlight, making themseem even older than theywere, serene, ghostlike,altogether different creaturesfrom the monsters who hadforced themselveson thegirl

onlyanhourbefore.Dismay,pleasekill them

beforetheywake.Thesweet,cleanscentof

whiskey still hung in thewarmnightair.

Dismay—Thedooropened.Thegirllookeduptosee

a shadowy figure silhouettedagainst the moon-washedyard, a tall, lean man, witheyes that glittered green asthey fixed on her. “Leave

now,” hewhispered, drawinga sword from his backscabbard.

She was on her feet atonce. She grabbed a thinblanket from the foot of thebed and half a loaf of bread.Thensheslippedsilentlypastthe demon and fled into thenight.

Hundreds

“Sheriff, the Hauntén demonhaskilledagain.”

Maricklookedupwithastart.AstheKing’ssheriffhewas charged with enforcingthe law and protecting thepeople of Lutawa fromblasphemy,beittheirownorthat of a murderous demonsentfromthegodlessnorth.

Outsidetheinnwhereheandhismenwerelodged,thesun had just risen over thetrees. Its rays reached in

golden brilliance past closedshutters to stripe the roomand the large map that layopen across the table. Theyoung deputy who’d justarrivedwithhisreportdaredaglance at the map, but heknew his place, and his gazereturned at once to Marick.“It was nomore than twelvemiles from here, sir. InBreden!”

Hewasaruddy-cheekedyouth, wide-eyed with

excitement. Like Marick, hewasdressed in the fashionofthe sheriff’s company: blackboots, black gloves, and ablack silk tunic, traditionallyloose in the shoulders,cinched at the waist, andflaringagainasitdrapedoverlooseblack ridingpants.Thesilk’ssheenwasdimmedbyalayerofdustfromtheroad.

“And how many wereslaughtered in Breden?”Marickaskedinagrimvoice.

“Atleasttwo,Sheriff.Ahovelwassetonfire!Isawitmyself.Twofarmhands livedthere,alongwithachildslavethey’donlyjustacquired.”

Seated on the adjacentside of the table was Cullo,Marick’s first deputy, a manof imposing sizewhoshavedhis head smooth everyevening because the sparkfrom a pyre had once set hishair aflame. “You predictedit,” he said to Marick,

satisfactioninhisvoice.“Youpredicted the demon wouldbeseennext in thedistrictofAnacarlin, and you wereright.”

Marick’s gaze turned tothe map: a beautifuldocument that charted thekingdom of Lutawa, itsfarmlandsandhills, its riversand lakes, its villages andtowns, all drawn precisely toscale.Seventy-three tiny tagswerepinnedtothemap,each

written on in neat script,marking a site where thedemon had been seen orwhere it had left bloodycorpses and burned homes.The creature had struck firstin theborderlands, but in thedays that followed it hadmoved steadily south,bringing terror into the heartoftheLutawankingdom.

Looking up again,Marick fixed a hard gaze onthe young deputy. “Hovels

areknowntocatchfire.Whydo you believe this was thedemon’s work? Did you seethecreature?”

“No, Sheriff. No onesaw it. But the hovel burnedsofiercelyithadtohavebeendousedwithoil,andanyway,thefarmboss—”

The youth stoppedmidsentence. His gaze cutawayasthecolorofhisruddybrown cheeks grew evenwarmer. “Well, the farmboss

said it was the demon’swork.”

“Did he? And why washesosure?Speak,son!Ifyouknowsomething,sayit.”

The boy looked atMarick again. Hestraightened his shoulders.“I’msorry,Sheriff.It’sjust... I know the farmboss wasspeakinginanger,buthetoldme the two dead men haddefied the master when theybrought the girl home. The

master is a godlymanof theInherent. He doesn’t permitany of his slaves or servantsto keep a child whore. Thefarmbosssaidthedemonwaswelcome to punish the twomen for their disobedience,and that they got no morethantheydeserved.”

Marick’sbrowsrose.“Blasphemy,” Cullo

growled.“Is it blasphemy?”

Marick asked the young

deputy. “Did this farmbossinvite the Hauntén demonin?”

The boy lookedsuddenlyfrightened.“No!Or,I don’t think so, sir. It’s justthe dead men were longtimetroublemakers. The farmbosshad to whip them all toooften. The master takes itfrom his pay if the servantsandslavesdon’tliveasgodlymen.”

Cullo’s chair creaked as

he leaned forward. “There’sno doubt these twotroublemakersaredeadinsidethehovel?”

“The farmbosswas sureofit,thoughhecan’tlookforbonesuntilthefire’scooled.”

“ReturntoBredenintheafternoon,” Marick said.“Look for the child whore’sbones among the ashes. Ifyoucan’t find them, look forthechildwhoreandbringhertome.”

“Yes,sir.”“Now go tend to your

horseandgetsomesleep.”The deputy left, closing

thedoorbehindhim.“One mile, twelve, or a

hundred,” Cullo said. “Howcan we catch a creature thatcomes and goes with thestealthofsmoke?”

Marick reached for aquill and a new tag. “Wemustlayatrapforit.”

“Ha!Ifonlywecould—

but how? Despite what theBreden farmboss thinks, thedemon strikes at random, forno just cause. How can wepredict where it will gonext?”

Marick wrote out thenewtag,thenpinneditbesidethe village of Breden. “Itdoesn’tstrikeatrandom.”

The first attacks hadbeen theworst.They’d takenplaceindaylight,farnorthinthe borderlands.Hundreds of

free farmers had beenslaughtered, along with theirdogs and women.Farmhouses and fields wereburned. Each rampage wentonforhours,consumingfarmafter farm, but after severaldays,thedemondisappeared.

When it finally struckagain, it did so with a newdiscipline, coming at nightand in stealth. It stalkedfarmhouses and mansionsboth, entering unseen to

murderthemenastheyslept,splattering bedroom wallswith blood and soaking thefloors—but the dogs and thewomennolongersuffereditswrath.

“It’s not random,”Marick repeated. “Each timethere is a woman, andmanyof these women haveconfessed that theysummoned the Haunténdemon with blasphemousprayer.”

Cullo scowled. “Do youmean to bait your trap byforcingthebitchestopray?”

Marick didn’t want toadmit to the temptation. “Iserve the King,” he saidsharply. “It’s not for me toencourageblasphemy—”

Cullostiffened.“—and no doubt the

demon would know a falseprayeranyway.”

Aknocksoundedonthedoor; it opened again.

Anotherdeputypeeredinside.“TheInherentarehere toseeyou,Sheriff.”

“We’ll join themshortly.”

Marick stood up to rollthe map—the King’s map,entrusted to him.TheKing’slaw forbade anyone topossessatruemapofLutawa,excepting only His owntrusted servants, and nonewere more trusted than theKing’s sheriff, who was

charged with ending theterroroftheHaunténdemon.

Cullo held up the brassmap case. “It’s a risk toinvolve the Inherent,” hewarnedasMarickslippedtherolledmap inside. “They aredevoted to the King, but notto you. They fear yourinfluencewithHim.”

“As they should. Still,they are godly men. In thematter of the demon, we aresurelyallies.”

“You have a greatconfidence in these oldmen,to set them on guard againstthedemon.”

Marick shrugged. “TheInherent have the privilege.Letthemsharetherisk.”

There were three Inherentfamilies in the district ofAnacarlin, each ruled by apatriarchasGodhaddecreed.

ThemasterofBredenwastheoldestofthem,andthemasterof Anacarlin the youngest,but the master of Cuhoxapresided over the largestestate by far in the district,and the others deferred tohim.

The three men hadgathered on the veranda oftheinn,seatedinplushchairsarrangedinasemicircle,eachwith a mug of sweet fruitjuiceandatrayofboiledeggs

and wine-soaked berrieswithineasyreach.

When Marick appearedon the threshold,NedwaryofCuhoxawasfirsttotakenote.Though he was a man ofmiddle years, with his blackhairandneatbeardhalf-gonetogray,hekepthimself trim,and when he rose to meetMarick he did so with thestiff-backed bearing of thegeneral he once had been.“You are the Sheriff

Marick?”heasked.“Sir,Iam.”Nedwary,standingafull

head taller than the sheriff,studied Marick with a sternexpression. After a fewseconds, he nodded. “Godbless you then, andwelcome.”

Heresumedhisseatanddiscussion of the demonbegan.Themaster ofBredenwasmost incensed,given theloss of his farm hovel.

“Sheriff,it’syourdutytostopthis creature! Stop it now,beforeitdoesrealharm!”

Nedwarywanteddetails.“Weare told thisdemon is aspirit creature, though onethat will sometimes clotheitselfinflesh.”

“Exactly so,” Marickagreed. “It appears first assmokeoramist.Inthisformit can do no harm, nor beharmed.Butintheblinkofaneye it can take on the

appearanceofaman.Thenitcanbekilled—orcaptured.”

“Captured?” asked thewide-eyed young master ofAnacarlin.“Is itpossible thatshackles could hold such acreature?”

“Not shackles, but aniron cage. If a Haunténdemonispiercedbymetalorconfined in iron it will bepinned in the world andunable to escape to the spiritrealm.SosaystheKing.”

Marickpacedinfrontofthem. While the Inherentwore richly colored silks, hewasgarbedinblack:thecolorof the King’s justice. TheInherent were the chosen ofGod. In power and inprivilegetheyweresetaboveallotherssavetheKing—butHis blessing was sometimesgiventoafreemantoo.

Marick intended to earnthatblessingbycapturingthedemon.“Itdeservesnoquick

death. The King’s justice isserved best by a publicexecution. If you encountertheHaunténdemon, thenpinit. Kill it only if there is nootherchoiceandremember—ifyouhesitate,itwillkillyou.You cannot save your life oryour household by fleeing.The demon will hunt youdown, and it has neverpracticedmercy.”

The masters shared adark lookamong themselves.

Then Nedwary of Cuhoxaadmonishedhim.“Youforgetto whom you speak, Sheriff.We have all seen more ofblood and battle than you oranyofyourmen.It’snotourcustomtofleefromdanger.”

Marick held his facecarefully expressionless, buthe could not stop a rush ofheat to his cheeks. “I meantno offense, Master. It’s onlythat I would have no harmbefall the King’s beloved

Inherent.”“And yet you would

have us help you in yourdemonhunt?”

“It’s an elusive creatureand my men cannot beeverywhereatonce.Iaskthatyouinstructyourservantsandslavestobealertforanysignof the demon’s presence. Itmust eat. It must sleep. Thismakes it vulnerable. If youdiscover it, sendword tome.Myonlywish is to fulfill the

King’s command, and bringtheevilcreaturetojusticeforitscrimesagainstLutawa.”

HisLegendThedemonDismaywasinaninfernal mood. He hatedeverythingaboutLutawa,buthe especially hated the heat.The heat was driving himmad. It smothered him as heslept.Ithauntedhisdreams.It

crushedhismemory.Hewasfilthywithit,forevercakedinbloodandstickysweat.Everydawnheprayed to theDreadHammer for the courage toenduretheunrelentingsunofyetanotherday.

Each day the sky wasbland and pale with heat.There were no rain spiritsanywhere, and theonlywindspirits he’d met were bitterlittle gusts that delighted inrattling the dry brush in

gullies or on the edge ofpastures whenever theydiscovered him sleepingthere.

He slept in the day,afflicted always with ahorrible dream in which hewas free to journey northagain, but nomatter how farheventuredalongthethreadsthat made up the weft andwarp of the world he nevercouldreachthePuzzleLandswherehe’dbeenborn, or the

coolshadeoftheWildWoodthatwashishome.Therewasonly the plain of Lutawaunrolling ahead of him,foreverwithoutend.

Andwheneverheawokehis head was filled with amurmurous thread of prayersuttered by women whopleaded with him to Come,comeavengeme.

This he didn’t mind somuch. Granting such prayerswas the task set for him by

the Dread Hammer and itpleased him to do it. Itpleased him too to defy theidiot god of Lutawa, Hepenthe Watcher, who despisedwomen as weak and stupid,and yet somehow sodangerous that death wasmeted out to anyone whodaredteachawomantoread.Under such a god, crueltythrived, and in time, crueltydemanded vengeance. Onlythe most desperate women

called on Dismay. Though itpleasedhimtocarryouttheirbloody retributions, it wouldplease him even more if hecould just get a decentmeasureof sleepbeforehand.But how could he truly restwhenhehadnochoicebuttosleep under bushes, or inbarns,orintherootcellarsoffarmhouses, with some partofhismindalwaysonwatch?

Hiswearinessputhiminan irritable mood, and his

irritable mood was madeinfernal by the filth: blood,soot, sweat, offal. The deathhe meted out never smelledsweetandthestenchwasonlymade worse by the heat, theunendurable, crushing heat.Though late autumn hadcome, each day in Lutawawasstillhotterbyfarthanthehottest summer day in thePuzzleLands.NowondertheLutawans were crazy. Whowouldn’tbe, livingwithsuch

weather day after day afterday?

The demon Dismay hadgonealittlecrazytoo.

That was why he wasstanding at twilight outside acountry mansion,contemplating slaughteringeveryoneinside.Noprayerofvengeance had summonedhim.He’dbeendrawninsteadby the scent of clean waterandspicedsoaps,andthefactthatthemansionwasisolated

from the road. There wouldbe no one to hear thescreaming.

A paved drivewaywound through orchards andgardens, ending at a wideforecourt with a pretty tiledfishpondandbedsof sweet-smelling flowers. The houseitselfwasasprawlingsingle-storywithwhitestuccowalls,awideveranda,abrassdoor,andblue ceramic tileson theroof. The roof tiles alone

implied such wealth that thedemon’s imagination wasoffended.

He’d been altogetherhappylivinginahovelintheWildWoodwithathatchroofandnochimneytoletoutthesmokefromthehearth.Whatneedwasthereforaroofthatmusthaverequireddozensofslaves to mix and form andglaze and bake the clay fortiles that were each as fancyasadinnerplate?

TheLutawansweretrulyfools.

Still, he was quite suretheremustbealovelybathinghall inside. Itwouldn’t be sohardtomurderthefamily...well, it wouldn’t be hard tomurderthemen.Hescowled.Itwouldnotbehis choice tomurder the women . . . butstill, to enjoy a nice, longsoak and be truly clean forthe first time since he’d leftthePuzzleLands....

He sensedmovement inthe threads that underlay theworld.Someone in thehousewas coming closer. Theshutters along the verandastood open. Light glimmeredthrough the windows,moving, shifting, pausinghereandtheretodipandpassitssparktoacandle,oranoillamp, until the windowsglowedwithsweetlight.

Then the front dooropened and a servant—or

maybe she was a slave; thiswas Lutawa, after all—cameout to the veranda. Smoke,hidden within the inkyshadow of an orange tree,watchedher fromonlya fewfeet away as she lit a lanternthathungbesidethestair.

The light showed her tobe young and lovely. Thepretty yellow shift she worewas belted tight around herwaist to show off her figure.It left her arms bare, and

revealed her calves behind alittle ruffle. Her hair waslong,black,andsilky, fallinginathicktaildownherback.

She turned to light thesecondlantern,andasshedidso its light fell across thedemon, curling around histall,leanfigureandglisteningagainst his honey-brown hairthatheworepulledbackfromhis face and tied behind hisneck.

He must have looked

like a ruffian in hisbloodstained brown tunicwithsleevesrolledupagainstthe heat, trousers dark withblood and soot, and bootssinged by fire. He carried aswordonhisbackalongwitha bow, a quiver of arrows,and his rolled-up coat. Twolong knives hung from hisbelt.Thegirlgazedathiminstunned silence, her eyes sodark and full of life heimagined for a moment he

was looking into Ketty’seyes.

Ketty,whohadsenthimaway in a fit of anger.Kettyof theRedMoon, cruelest ofwives.

The women of LutawacalledhimDismay,butKettycalled him by another name,onehe’dalmostforgotten.

Smoke.It hurt to remember.

Pray to me, he’d told her,when you want me to come

home.Twomoonshadpassedsince then and Smoke wasstill waiting for Ketty’sprayer.He’dbeguntosuspectshedidn’tlovehimanymore.

“Dismay!” the servinggirl whispered. To Smoke’ssurprise she didn’t flee, butinstead, after a cautiousglanceoverhershouldertobesure no one was watching,she scurried down theveranda’s three steps andslipped into the shadows

beside him. He sawconfusion, not fear, in hergaze. “Dismay, why are youhere? I didn’t pray for you.Did the young mistress prayforyou?It’s toosoon.We’renotreadytocallonyouyet.”She gestured toward thedriveway. “You must go.Later,maybe,we’llneed—”

Smoke bared his teethand at once she stopped herwhispered excuses. Itastonished him the way his

legendmade itsway throughthecountrysideevenaheadofhis own swiftly movingpresence, but tonight he wasin no mood to be charming.He said, “Know this: It’s adangerous thing to pray tome, but it’s more dangeroustosendmeaway.”

“But Dismay, if themasterseesyou—”

“I’llkillhim.”“No,please.He’sagood

man.”

“Better ifhedoesn’tseemethen.”

“But what have youcome for? Why are youhere?”

“Iwantabath.And I’mhungry, and tired as well—tiredofsleepinginbarnsandunderbushes.”

“Oh.”Againsheglancedbackatthedoor.“Themasteris away at dinner thisevening,andnoonewillbeinthe bathing hall at this hour.

If I go there, can you findme?”

“Goquickly,andpraytometocome,whenthewayisclear.”

Her eyes grew brightwith the excitement of doingsomething forbidden andsweet. “I’ll call the youngmistress.She’llwant tomeetyou.” And with that shetrotted back up the stairs, todisappear behind the brassdoor.

Smokefixedhismindonthe tremble and sway of thethreadsintheworld’sweftsothat he could follow herprogress.Shehurriedthroughthegreat room,and then intoa hallway where anotherwoman joined her. The tworushedpastamanservant,andthen ducked into a room,pulling a door shut behindthem.Severalsecondspassed.Then the serving girlremembered to speak to him

in prayer. Come, Dismay.Come bathe and becomforted.

ScarsThe girl’s name was Ui andher young mistress wasEleanor. They were of asimilarageandinsomewaysthey looked much alike,sharing the same dark hairand dark eyes.ButEleanor’s

hair was carefully arranged,tied back from her face inintricate braids before beingallowed to fall freedownherback;andsheworeadressofsoft-green,patternedsilk,thatsomehow caught thecandlelight in a way thatenhanced the sweet curve ofher breasts and her hips; andwhile her smooth arms werebare, her skirt brushed thefloor, showing not even herankles; and she carried

herself with a trained gracethat set off her beauty in adisconcertingway.

Ui was a pretty, livelygirl,but she fadedbesideherpamperedmistress.

Smokecouldhardlytakehis eyes off Eleanor, andwhen he managed the trick,his gaze was caught by Uiinstead. They were a delighttoallhissenses;theirbuoyantpresencewas a respite and arelief.

He was Dismay, afterall, whose task it was toanswer the prayers ofvengeance whispered bywomenwhocouldendurenomore.Everywomanhe’dmetthese past two moons hadbeen on her knees, abusedand broken, overcome withhate,begginghim forbloodyretribution.

Eleanor and Ui onlywantedtopleasehim.

The flush he felt as he

set his weapons aside hadnothing to do with thewarmth of the evening andeverything to do with thepresence of two cheerfulyoungwomen.

Hestrippedoffhisfilthyclothes and atUi’s invitationhesatonastool.Togetherthetwo set about washing hislonghair,and thenscrubbinghis skin clean. It wasexquisite to simply betouched again, but because

they were young and lovelyandkind itwasarousing too.His passion swelled beneaththe towel laid over his lap,but it was tempered as histhoughts turned to his wifeKetty,cruelKettyof theRedMoon, who didn’t care forhim anymore, who hadforgotten his name, while hehadforgottennothing:notherwarmth, her voice, her sweetscent, or the wild joy ofenteringhersacredgate—

“Ah, Dismay,” Eleanorsaid,softly,shyly.“Youhavesomanyterriblescars.”

She stood behind him,her fingers lightly tracing theropylinesofthewoundshe’dtaken, touching first hisshoulders, thenhis back, andthen his arms. Smoke closedhis eyes.Kettyused to touchhimlikethat,kissinghisscarsand whispering her gratitudethat he was still alive—butKetty had been born on a

night when the moon turnedred, and the spirit of the redmoon was pig-headed andstubborn.

Eleanor’s soft handslippedoverhisleftshoulder,toexploretheragged,hideousscar that spoiled thecurveofhisneck.“That,”Smokesaidinalowgrowl,“wasgiventome in battle by a LutawanofficerwhenIwasaKoráyossoldierfightingforthePuzzleLands.”

“Ah, you were in thewar,”Eleanorsaidsadly.

Ui did not share hermelancholy.“Didyoukilltheofficer?” she asked with abreathlessexcitement.

“Long after, but finally,yes.”

Ui held a fresh ewer ofwater which she pouredslowly over his shoulder andchest. “And howmany otherwicked men have youkilled?” she asked, her eyes

bright with a bloodthirstylight. “Hundreds andhundreds,I’mguessing!”

Smoke shrugged. “Idon’tcountthem.”

“Butwhydoes theKingletyoudoit?”shewondered.“Why does He let you getaway with it? Why does Heletyoulive?”

Smoke chuckled,charmedbyhernaiveté.“I’ma demon.What can he do tostop me? Unless he’s a

demontoo?”“Of course he’s not a

demon,” Ui chided, turningtheewerupsidedowntopourthe last of the water. “He istheKing!Andit’stheKing’spower to strikedownanyonewith infernal fire! He shouldstrike us down for talking toyou.”

Smoke laughed at herzeal. “Infernal fire? What isthat?Is itsomethingIshouldfear?”

“You don’t know aboutinfernal fire?” Ui’s lovelyeyes were wide withastonishment. Her voicedroppedtoawhisper,asiftheKinghimselfmightoverhear.“It’s theKing’s fire.Hemaysummon it, anywhere,anytime, to punish thewicked, and it can’t be putout,nomatterwhat.”

Smoke’s eyebrows rose.“AmIwicked?”

Heexpectedhertoblush

andapologize,butinsteadshegrinned, still holding theempty ewer in her hands.“TheKingmustthinkso.”

Eleanor’s hands settledpossessively on Smoke’sshoulders. “Ui, you areincorrigible.”

Uigaveherasour look,but then she turned again toSmoke.“Whydoesheletyoulive?”

“Not because he lovesme.”

Ui laughed in delight,butEleanor’shandstightenedonhisshoulders.“Dismay,Uiisright.Youmustbecareful.TheKingwatchesoverallofLutawa, he sees everything,everywhere,andhedoesburnup his enemies with infernalfire.”

It was one of Smoke’sgiftsthathecouldalwaystellifapersonspokethetruth,sohe knew that both Eleanorand Ui devoutly believed

what they were telling him.He puzzled over it,wonderingaloud,“Whatmancandosuchthings?”

Eleanor caught herbreath.Thensheleaneddowntowhisper in his ear. “Don’tyouknow?TheKingisnotaman. He is God-in-the-world.”

“God-in-the-world?”Smokeechoedskeptically.

“Yes.”Howveryinteresting.

Smoke recalled that hissister, Takis, had once askedhimtokilltheLutawanKing.Thatwasbeforehe’d left thePuzzle Lands, before he lostKetty.

He had two sisters,twins, who were like twohalves of one soul. Tayvalcommanded the fence ofspellsthatguardedtheborderof the Puzzle Lands, whileTakiswas the Trenchant andcommanded the army. Both

his sisters wanted an end totheendlesswarthathadgoneon for generations betweenLutawaandthePuzzleLands,buttheLutawanKingrefusedto consider peace, so TakishadaskedSmoketokillhim.Shehadn’tmentionedthattheKing might be more than aman . . . but then their sisterTayval had doubted hissuccess—and why wouldTayval doubt that he couldmurder a man? Unless she

suspected the King wassomethingmore?

Awild hunch took holdin Smoke’s mind. “Do youknow the King’s name?” heaskedEleanor.

She sighed. “Dismay,don’t you understand? TheKing doesn’t have a namebecauseheisGod.Heisnotamantohaveaname.”

Smokebaredhisteethina wicked grin; his heartbeatquickened with excitement.

For two months he’dwandered Lutawa, killingcasually,waitingforKetty tocall him home, but now . . .he suspected the DreadHammerhadagreatertaskinmind for him. “I think IshouldkilltheKing.”

Behind him, Eleanorgasped. Her hands left hisshoulders, and she backedaway.“Dismay,youmustnotsay such things!TheKing isGod. He can’t be killed, he

doesn’tdie.”Smoke turned his head

tolookatherfrightenedface.“Ihavealwaysheard there isonly one god inLutawa, andhis name is Hepen theWatcher.”

“It isn’t true,” Eleanorinsisted. “I mean, there isonly one god and he is theKing,buthehasnoname.”

Smoke dismissed thiswithashrug.“YouLutawanshave forgotten his name, but

we remember it in the north.Hepen theWatcher has longbeen theenemyof theDreadHammer. If he and the Kingareoneand thesame, then itmustbemytasktokillhim.”

Ui wasn’t afraid. Shecrouched beside him,balancing the ewer on herknee. “Who is the DreadHammer?”

“She is the god of thenorth.”

“She?” Ui whispered in

awe.Eleanor was equally

astonished.“Awomanwhoisa god?” she asked, creepingaroundtostandbyUi’sside.

Smoke eyed them bothwithalazysmile.“Yes.Longago, the Dread Hammer andHepen the Watcher werelovers,buthewascruel.Theyfought, and she tossed himout of the north. He had nochoicebuttobecomethegodof Lutawa, and who would

wanttobethat?Soofcoursehe’s angrywith her still. It’swhy he sends the Lutawanarmy to attack the PuzzleLands. The war will neverendwhilehe’salive.”

Eleanor looked at himsadly. “Then the war willnever end, because whetherhe has a name or not, theKing cannot die. Come,Dismay. Soak for a time inthe bath, while I comb outyourbeautifulhair.”

Smoke slipped into the brasssoaking tub, sighing as thesteamingwaterenfoldedhim.Eleanor brought a comb andset to work smoothing thetanglesfromhislong,honey-brown hair, while Ui setaboutthemoremundanetaskof cleaning the stool and thesurroundingfloor.

Closinghiseyes,Smoketouchedthethreadswithintheworld-beneath. Ui hadwondered why the King

didn’t strike him down.Smoke was sure it wasbecausetheKingcouldn’tseehim. He kept himself hiddenfrom those who could seewithin the world-beneath,including his sisters, and theHauntén demons of theWildWoodwhowerealsohiskin.

But though he washidden, the people aroundhimwerenot.Theshapeandvibration of the threads toldhimofamanservantwalking

inthehallwayoutside,andoftwo older women at work inthe kitchen. More interestingto him were the strongthreads knitting Ui andEleanor together. “Are yousisters?” he asked, withoutopeninghiseyes.

Eleanor’s comb movedgently over his scalp. “Wehave the same father, butdifferentmothers.”

“Anddifferentfates,”Uisaid, a bit breathless. When

he looked, he saw that shewas on hands and knees,scrubbing the floor. “Mymother is a slave in thehousehold,asIam.Eleanoristhe youngmistress,whowillbe sold soon to a husband. Ithink the master would keephersafelyhomeforever ifhecould, but she is nineteennow, and she must bemarried.”

“Will you accept yourhusband?” Smoke wondered.

“Orwillyoucallme?”“I don’t know,”Eleanor

admittedinaquietvoice.Ui got up, leaving her

scrubbrushonthefloor.“Themaster—our father—hewanted to marry Eleanor tothesonofhisfriend,ayoungman he knows well, whowould have made her firstwife—but everything haschanged.”

“My brother diedbadly,”Eleanorexplained.

“Badly?”“Without honor or

consequence. He was anofficer in the King’s army,but hemade amistakewhenhe was at war against thePuzzle Lands—I don’t knowwhat—and he died with allthemenunder his command.The King declared mybrotheratraitorandmyfatherwas required to disavowhimalong with his wives andchildren, and to pay

recompensetothefamiliesofhis men. There was moneyenough for it, of course, butnow there is no heir. So myvaluehas goneup.Whatevermangetsmewillbecomehisson and the next master ofCuhoxa, when God choosesto take my father from theworld.”

“We listen at themaster’sdoor,”Uiconfessed.“There are powerful men inthe army and in the palace

who would like to be ourfather’s heir, andwhowouldbe offended if he chose alesserman.”

Smoke scowled. “Thatmakes no sense at all. Youand Ui should be yourfather’sheirsandyoushouldchoose your own husbands.Why do Lutawans makeeverythingsocomplicated?”

They found this funny.Bothwomenlaughedmerrily,for no reason that Smoke

could see, but at least thegloom that had descendedover them was dispelled. Uibent to pick up her scrubbrush. “Youngmistress,” shesaid, looking up with a coysmile. “I’m sure you musthave combed every tanglefromDismay’sbeautifulhair.It’s time to consider whereDismay should sleeptonight.”

The comb hesitated.“You’reawickedsister,Ui.”

Ui giggled, her handover hermouth. “Well, then,ifDismaymaynotshareyourbed, and I already share mybedwithmymother—”

Eleanor bent close, herbreath soft in Smoke’s ear.“You’ll be safe in mybrother’s apartment. Hiswives and children are goneandnoone’sallowed tovisitthere anymore. The door’slocked, and only my fatherhasthekey.”

Smoke sighed, baskingin her warmth, her nearness.“You should not tease aman.”

“Areyouaman?”Her lips brushed his

cheek.Heturnedhisheadandher mouth touched his, butshe was only teasing. Shedrew back with a sad,regretful look. “If I’m not avirgin when I marry, myfathermustkillme.”

She was utterly

beautiful, but untouchable,and as the waveringcandlelight glistened in hereyes he was reminded againof Ketty—and suddenly hewas angry. Eleanor saw it.She straightened and steppedback. “Your eyes! They’reglittering with a green light,as dragon eyes are said todo.”

“So? Iam Dismay.”Heheld a hand out to her.“Come.” She was reluctant,

but she didn’t dare to offendhim,soshetookit.“Eleanor,will you pray to me, if youdon’tlikeyourhusband?”

“No. I will pray to youonly if my husband isintolerable.”

Smoke cocked his head.“What Lutawan man istolerable?”

Eleanor cast a nervousglance at Ui, but Ui wasunfazed, giggling behind herhand. “None of them are

tolerable,”Uideclared.“Eventhe master, who makes mesleep in the kitchenwhen hedesirestovisitmymother.”

Eleanor’s tone wassuddenlysharp.“Ui,gofetchfoodforDismay.”

Ui’ssmilevanishedand,chastened, she hurried to thedoor. Eleanor followed her.Sheunlockedthedoor,helditopenjustwideenoughforUitoslipout,andthenlockeditagain. When she returned to

Smoke,hefeltherfearinthethreads. “Dismay, I don’twant to be sold to any manwho lives in the palace. Mybrother’s mother was bornthere. She said that all thewomen there have the threepetals of their demon flowercutaway—”

“Theirdemonflower?”“That place between a

woman’s legs where herhusbandtakeshispleasure.”

“Ah, her sacred gate.”

Then he realized what she’djust said. “They cut it?Why?”

“I don’t know! But sheshowed me her scars. Shesaid it’s done at the King’scommand.Itdoesn’tmatterifthewoman is thewife of anofficial,orifshe’stherewithher husband only for aseason. The King knows ifshe’swhole.Hisordercomes.It’sdone.”

Smoke smiled. Yes, he

was sure now the DreadHammermeantforhimtokillthe King—and what apleasureitwouldbetoslitthecreature’s throat, whether heturned out to be a god or aman. “Is the King always inthepalace?”hewondered.

She nodded, her eyesglistening with tears as shecontemplated her likely fate.“It’s said the palace is theonly place holy enough tocontainHissacredpresence.”

“Do you know where itis?”

She shrugged.“Somewheresouth,wherethenightsarewarmer.”

“Warmer than here?”Smokewashorrifiedthatanysuch place could be. Justthinking on it made the bathfeeltoohot.Hestoodup,andEleanor hurried to bring atowel, patting him dry as hesteppedfromthetub.

“You can’t put on your

soiledclothes,” she toldhim.“Uihastocleanthem.Butinmy brother’s apartment,you’ll find clothes that youcanwear.”

Smoke took the towelfrom her and wrapped itaroundhiswaist.“YouwoulddressmeasaLutawan?”

She looked up at him,tears sparkling in her eyes.“Forgiveme,Dismay.Idon’tknowhowtodressademon.”

“Wouldyouserveone?”

Shecaughtherbreathinfear...butthenshenodded.“IfIcan.”

“If you’re sent to thepalace before I find my waythere, then pray tome. YourprayerwillmakeathreadthatI can follow, first to thepalace,andthentotheKing.”

Now it was her turn tolook horrified. “But how canI, Dismay? Surely the Kingwill hear such a prayer?Surelyhewillknow.”

“You have talked tomeallnight,buthehasnotstruckyoudead.”

Her voice dropped to awhisper.“Iknowhehearsallthewordsofmen...butthecook has told me he refusesto listen to the words ofwomen.”

“Then you can pray tome.Do so and I’ll comeandkilltheKing.”

Tearsstartedinhereyes.“But by then it’ll be too late

for me. Please, Dismay,won’tyouhelpme?Don’tletthemsendmetothepalace.”

Heshookhishead. “It’snot my gift to make livessweet.TheprayersIgrantareprayers of vengeance. Whowouldyouhavemekill?”

“I don’t know! No one.Notyet.”

He nodded. “Only thevery desperate should everpray to me. The cost isalwayshigh.”

“Whatdoyoumean?”“That a prayer for

vengeance won’t save you. Icould kill your husband andall themenofhishousehold,butyouwouldstillbehunteddown.”

She shuddered, turninghalf away. “I wish I had notbeenborn.”

“Showme the way intothe palace. Then there willhave been a reason for yourlife.”

Ui returned with a largebasket in her hands. Eleanortook it from her. “TakeDismay’s clothes and cleanthem. See that they’re readybeforedawn.”

Ui looked startled atEleanor’s sharp tone. Hergaze darted to Smoke,dressednowonly in thebathtowel.

“Now,”Eleanoradded.“Yes, ma’am.” Ui

scurriedtogatherupSmoke’s

soiled shirt, his trousers, andhislongcoat.Sheslippedoutof the roomwithabackwardglance that lingered onSmokeashebenttogatheruphisweapons.

Again Eleanor madesure the door was locked.Then she brought the baskettoSmoke,whohadhissword,his bow and his belt slungover his bare shoulders. “Mybrother’s apartments are inthe north wing of the house,

alongside the innercourtyard.”

Smoke studied thethreads,noddingashesensedtheplaceshedescribed.

“I’ll haveUi bring yourclothesatdawn.I’llwarnhernot to disturb you beforethen.” Eleanor hesitated.“Unless youwant her to . . .?”

Smoke considered it.Kettyhadsaidshestill lovedhim . . . but that was two

moonspast, a long timeago.Aman couldn’t wait forever—though after a bit ofthought Smoke decided hecouldwaitanothernight.“It’snothercompanyIwant.”

Eleanor’s eyes widenedin surprise. Smiling shyly,she stood on her toes to kisshis cheek. “I’m so pleasedyouchoseourhomeand thatI’ve been privileged to meetyou.” She handed him thebasket, her dark gaze riveted

onhimashebent topickuphis boots. “Iwish IwasUi,”sheaddedinahuskyvoice.

Smoke’sbrowsknit inaskeptical look. “Youwouldn’t like being aservant.”

Then he reached for thethreads, and let his reflectionshift so that he appeared toEleanor as a column of graysmoke that streamed awaythroughthewall.

TheSlantofMoonlightHeavy curtains allowed onlya parsimonious measure ofmoonlightintotheapartment,not enough for most men tosee by, but Smoke was ademon who could see in thedark. He found himself in asitting room, with a sofa, adivan, chairs, several smalltables, a fireplace, decorativehangings on thewalls, and athick carpet beneath his barefeet.Anarchedpassageledto

other rooms. The air tasteddustyandstale.

He put down his bootsand the basket, and then hedrew his sword from itsscabbard and set out toexplore.

All doors to the outsidewere locked, as Eleanor hadpromised. He found a study,with books still on theshelves, and six bedrooms.Thebedroomswereemptyofpersonal items except the

largest, which had an alcovefilledwith suchclothingasaLutawanmanof the Inherentclasswouldwear.

Smoke had somefondnessfordressingwell,sohe lit an oil lamp and spentsome time in the alcove,looking through the shelves.The shirts and jackets weremostly too broad in theshoulder to suit him, but atthebackof a corner shelf hefound a green tunic in a

smaller size. It had a highcollar andpanels in the frontembroidered with a twiningpattern of birds and vines,anditfithimperfectly.

Suitable trousers wereeasier to find because theLutawans favored a loose fitanyway, and the extra lengthwas easily overcome bystuffing the hems into hisboots. He chose dark browntrousersmadeofheavylinen.ItwassodamnhotinLutawa

he didn’t bother trying on acoat.Afterhewasdressedheexamined his reflection in amirror. He had left his hairloosearoundhisshoulderssoit could dry, but now hegathered it up and nodded insatisfactionatwhathesaw.“Imake a better lookingLutawan than mostLutawans,”hesaidaloud.Helifted his chin and added,“Ketty, you are foolish to beangrystill.”

He felt hopeful, though,more so than in a long time.Ketty might still be angrywithhim,butatleastnowhehadagoal,apurpose.

Hereturnedtothebasketto see what Ui had packed.There was a bottle of wine,but he left that untouched,because drinking stirred inhim an embarrassinginclination towardmercy.Heate all the food though, andthen, takinghisweapons and

hisbootswithhim,hewenttoliedownonthewide,softbedinthelargestbedroom.

Hesleptpeacefullyforatime.

Then he heard Kettyspeaking. He startled awake—and her voice vanished.The shadows of the deadman’s bedroom loomedaround him, unchangedexcept for the slant ofmoonlight. He tried to recallwhat she had said, but he

couldn’t. Was it only adream?

Closing his eyes again,he listened. Across thethreads he heard themurmurof women’s voices, manywomen, still awake despitethehour.Theycalled tohim,Dismay, Dismay, whisperingtheir dreadful stories andpleading with him to avengethem. He ignored their bitterprayers and, holding hisbreath so thathe could listen

better, he waited for onespecialprayertoreachhim.

Butitdidn’tcome.Ketty,why?Why did she offer him

nothing but silence? Whycould she not forgive him?Hehadneverhurther.Hehadnever betrayed her. She wasthecruelestofwives!

Hegotup.Agreenlightsparkled across the room,startlinghim,but itwasonlythe reflection of his eyes in

the mirror, the reflection ofhis anger. He had resolvednot to go back toKetty untilshebeggedhim. . .but ifhekilled the Lutawan king, slitHis throat and let His divineblood spill free in a scarletfountain, then surely thatwould atone for his ownmisdeeds and even stubbornKettyoftheRedMoonwouldhavetoforgivehim.

Tokill theKing though,hewouldfirsthavetofindthe

palace.Eleanorthoughtitwassouth, but how far south?Lutawa was a vast land. Hemight have to hunt formanymoredaysbeforehefoundit...unlesshecouldfindamaptotellhimtheway?

That’s when heremembered the study fullofbooks—andwheretherewerebooks,thereweremaps,orsoit had been in his father’slibrary.

He hurried through the

halltothestudy,andtherehesearched the drawers andshelves,buthefoundnomap.

He turned next to thebooks, remembering thatmaps were sometimes drawnin their pages, and even ifthere was no map, theremightbeastory that told thewaytotheKing’soh-so-holypalace. Taking a book atrandom, he stepped to awindow and pulled thecurtain aside. Moonlight

poured onto an open page,revealing gibberish: columnafter column of meaninglessscribble.

Smoke flipped throughthe pages, but it was all thesame:everypageofthebookwas filled with unreadablescrawl.What idiotwould filla precious bookwith uselessmarks? He dropped thevolumeonatable,wentbackto the shelf, and grabbedanother. This one too

contained the same sort ofnonsense, and though therewere drawings of militaryformations among the pages,therewasnomap.

He picked up anotherbook, and another. When aglanceatthepagesconfirmedeach to be as useless as thefirst, he hurled it onto agrowing pile of discardedvolumes.Onlywhentheshelfwasnearlyemptydiditoccurto him that the scribblemust

bewriting,butofakindhe’dneverseenbeforeandthathecould not read. This thoughtinfuriatedhim.ItwasasiftheLutawans had conspired tokeep him ignorant—and inhisfrustrationhewastemptedtosetthewholepileofbookson fire. He resisted onlybecause Ui and Eleanor hadbeenkindtohim.Itwouldbepoor manners to pay thembackbyburningtheirhometothe ground. Still, he could

bear theoppressiveairof theapartmentnolonger.

He returned to thebedroomforhisbootsandhisweapons,andthenhereachedfor the threads—but as hedissolved into gray mist heremembered the basket, stillin the sitting room. HewantednosuspiciontofallonUiandEleanor,sohefetchedit. Then setting his mindagain to the threads, heperceived Eleanor, lying

awake and alone in abedroomnotsofaraway.

Hewenttoher.The smokygraymist of

his presence seeped throughthe walls and then he wasstanding at the foot of herbed.

The curtain was open;theroomawashinmoonlight.Eleanorlaynakedinitsglow,profoundlybeautiful,herdarkeyesfixedonthenightskyasifherthoughtswerefaraway.

Desire rushed throughSmoke, but though he wassurehecouldhaveherfortheasking,shewasn’tKetty,andallhereallywantedtodowasleave.

He set the basket at thefootofherbedandonlythendid she realize he was there.She gasped and sat up,pulling a thin sheet to herchin to hide her body.“Dismay!”

“Iamgoing.”

If she replied, he didn’tstaytohearit.

Guileless, Pretty, andSubmissiveUi hung Dismay’s clothingbeside the kitchen hearth todry, then she spent the nightin the kitchen, ready to hidethe lotof itunderherskirt ifanyonecame,butnoonedid.As dawn neared she folded

the shirt, the trousersand thecoat, then she wrapped themup ina squareofwhite clothso that they looked like anordinary bundle of laundry.Shesetoutthroughthehouse,intending to return them toDismay, but to herdisappointment sheencountered Eleanor in thedarkhallway.

“Young mistress, whyaren’tyousleeping?”

“Andhowmuchdidyou

sleep, Ui? Or did you stayawake all night praying tohim?”

Ui lowered her gaze.Eleanor was her half-sisterand Ui loved her, but thatdidn’t change the fact thatEleanorwas themistressandUi only a servant. “I stayedawakeallnightwatchingoverhis clothes,El, and Igonowtoreturnthem.”

“Heisgone.”The hurt in Eleanor’s

voice aroused Ui’s suspicion—and her jealousy. Eleanorwas the mistress. If she wasnot a virgin on her weddingnight her husband couldreturn her to the master anddemand he cut his owndaughter’sthroat.Ui,though,wasonlyaservantandinfactshewasnotavirgin.Atworstshe would be beaten for it,but with luck her futurehusbandwouldbetoowisetocomplain. “Eleanor, did you

gotohimlastnight?Didyoulet him possess your demonflower?”

“No!”Thensheaddedina softer whisper, “I wouldhave,ifhe—”

Suddenly their father’sdeep voice rang through thehallway in a shout of alarm.“Steward! Steward! Come atonce! Come and see!” Hisshoutcamefromthedirectionofthelockedapartment.

Ui’s heart raced with

fear.“HehasfoundDismay.”She started toward the

apartment, but Eleanor putoutahand.“Stop!Dismay isgone. Go hide his clothesbefore someone asks whosetheyare.”

Ui ranback to the roomshe shared with her mother.Asshearrivedatthedoor,hermother came out. She wasdressed in ayellow shift liketheoneUiwore, pulled tightbyabelt so themastercould

admireherbodythatwasstilllovely and slim. She lookedpastherdaughter.“Ui,what’shappened? Why does themastercallout?”

“Idon’tknow,Mama.Elsentmeto—”

There was no need tomake up an excuse; hermother was already hurryingawaytodiscoverthecauseofthecommotionforherself.

Uiduckedintotheroom,pulled the box of winter

blankets from under the bed,stuffed the bundle of cleanlaundry beneath them, andthenshovedtheboxbackoutof sight.Assoonas thatwasdone she followed hermother,runningfulltiltdownthe hall to see what troubleDismayhadleftbehindhim.

Uiarrivedintimetohearthemaster shouting at the

youthful manservant,Hammond. “Go, Hammond.Gonow.Summonthecaptainofmymen-at-arms, and thenride on. Find the sheriff andtell him his Hauntén demonhas been here, and he mustcomeatonce.”

Hammond asked noquestions,butsetofftoobey.Ui followed after him as hetrotted down the hall.Hammondwas always sweetto her, helping with hauling

thewater and fetching heavybags of provisions from thecellar. So she didn’t hesitateto speak. “Hammond,what’shappened? Please tell me,what is a sheriff? What is aHauntén?”

When he turned to lookather,furyblazedinhiseyes.“Quiet,woman!”hesnapped.“And return to your duties.”Then he darted outside andraced away toward thestables.

Ui stared after him,slack-jawed withastonishment. Hammond hadnever spoken to her like thatbefore—but other men had.Some of the army officerswho came to see her father,andevensomeofhismen-at-armswhen themasterwasn’tnearby to hear. She knewthen that Hammond wantedtobeoneofthem—aman-at-armsorasoldier—andwithaspikeof jealousy,shewished

that she could dream suchdreamstoo.

Ui didn’t dare go near theapartment,butshealsodidn’twanttogotoEleanor’sroom,knowing that no gossip wasever to be had there, unlessshe brought it herself. Shewandered past the kitchen,butCooklookedasifshehadchoresinmind,soUigrabbed

a duster and hurried to thefront room to wait forHammond to return. Itseemed to take forever, butfinally she heard a clatteringofmanyhooveson the stonedriveway.

She hurried to thewindow,standingsidewaysinthe shadow of the half-openshutters so shewould remainunseen.Shecountedfivemenwith Hammond. All weredressedinblackridingtunics

and looseblack trousers, andall were armed with swordsand bows. Three had whipscoiled at their waists, andanothercarriedashortclub.

They dismounted in thecourt, handed the reins oftheirhorsestoHammond,andthen advanced on the frontdoor.

Ui’s eyes went wide.Hammond had hold of thehorses, the stewardwaswiththemaster, andCookwas in

thekitchen.Therewasnoonearound to open the door buther.

The black-clad mencame up the steps to theveranda, led by the oldestamong them, though he wasnotold.Uiguessedhimtobein his thirties. He had short,curly black hair and a neatlytrimmedbeard.Hiseyesweredarkinanunsmilingface.

Not knowing what elseto do, Ui scrambled to pull

the door open for him—itwould be insulting to leavehimwaitingontheveranda—butatthesametimeshetriedtodisappearbehind thedoor,fearing tobenoticedbysuchaman.

It was not her fate toescapenoticethatday.

Seeing no one there togreet him, the man turned,and spied her behind thedoor. “Come forward, bitch.Whereisthemaster?”

Ui was suddenly awashin confusion and shame. Shewanteddesperatelytorunandhide—but she knew better.The rest of themencrowdedin, so she closed the door.Then, keeping her gazelowered, shewhispered, “Mymaster is in the heir’s wing.Willyoufollow?”

“Go.”She scurried past them,

takingswift,mincingstepsashermother had taught her to

dowhen dangerous strangerswere in the house. Beguileless, pretty, andsubmissive. Don’t offend, orsuch men will demand themasterbeatyou.

She did not dare lookback, but she listened to theclacking of their boot heels.She imagined their eyes onher.Herfilmydresswasonlya slave’s veil after all,designed to show her figure.She wanted to shrink away

into nothing, but since shecouldn’t manage that, shemouthed a prayer instead,addressing it to the womangod, the Dread Hammer,askingforprotection.

Her prayer wasanswered.

The apartment’s doubledoors stood open, and whenthe steward heard themcoming, he looked out. Uicaught his startled eye. Hewas a kindlyman, who took

inherdilemmawithalookofalarm.Hisgazeshiftedtothemen behind her, hisexpression transforming tofawning relief. “Sheriff!” hecriedwithanenthusiasmthatstartled everyone, and drewall lingering eyes away fromUi. “God bless you forcoming.” He subtly flickedhishandather,urgingher todisappear.

Uiduckedaside,bowingherheadasthesheriffandhis

mentrampedpast.A smart girl, Ui knew,

wouldtakethischancetoslipawaybeforesomeonethoughtto ask if the serving girl hadheardanythingunusualinthenight.Asmartgirlwouldrunto hide in Eleanor’s roomuntilthesheriffwasgone...but Ui was driven bycuriosity, not wisdom. Assoonas the lastof theblack-cladmendisappearedintotheapartment, she scurried after

them,takingupapostbesidethedoorway,justoutofsight.She heard her father, themaster, speak. “Greetings,Sheriff, and God bless you.It’s to God we owe ourthanks that no one in myhousehold has yet beenharmed.”

That was all Ui wasprivileged to hear before hermother swept out of theapartment, with such a lookof apprehension on her face

Uiwassureshetoowantedtoescape the eyes of thesheriff’s men. But then shesaw Ui. Her expressionshifted:firsttoshock,thentofury. Without a word, sheseizedherdaughter’sarminabruising grip and hauled herdownthehalltotheservants’quarters.

“Areyoustupid?”hermother

whispered the moment thedoor of their little roomwasclosedbehind them.“Doyouwant to be a whore for suchmen?”

“Hammond took theirhorses.Iwastheonlyonelefttoopenthedoor—”

“Donotanswerthedoorto strangers! Let the stewarddo it. Let Hammond showthemin!Nevershowyourselftosuchmen!”

“But—”

“What if the masterinvites them to stay?What ifthe sheriff asks for theprettyslave tobe sent tohis room?You are not Eleanor! Don’timagine the master willalwaysrefusesuchrequests!”

“But what is a sheriff?”Uipleaded.

Her mother snorted.“You have not heard a wordI’vesaid!”

“Ihave!But—”“The sheriff is the

King’sownservant.Hehuntsdown heretics and he burnsthem.”

Ui’s eyes went wide.Her hand covered her openmouth. All her guiltyventures, from stealingEleanor’s ivory comb, toallowingthehandsometinkertopossessherdemon flower,to admittingDismay into thehouse, rushed through hermind. Her mother grabbedher arm again, pinching the

bruise she’d made before.“Whathaveyoudone?”

“Nothing,Mama!”“Don’t lie to me. The

sheriff is hunting a demonHauntén who grants thewishesofdepravedwomen.Iknow you’ve heard Cook’sstoriesofDismay.”

Ui nodded. Certainlyshe’d heard stories . . . andnot just from Cook. Thetinker had told herwonderfullygruesomestories

of the bloody mayhemDismay had created in somehorrid place called “TheBorderlands.”

“But Mama, why is thesheriffhere?”

“Because someone—something—was in theheir’sapartment last night despitethelockeddoors!Bookswerethrowndownonthefloor,thecurtain was pulled back, thebed was wrinkled. What doyouknowofit,Ui?”

Ui looked straight intoher mother’s eyes and lied.“Nothing!IwaswithEleanorlastnight.”

“Doingwhat?”“Justtalking.”“Aboutwhat?”“Anything.”Her mother gave her a

good, hard shake. “Stupidgirl! What are you hiding?Tellmenow!”

When Ui hesitated, hermother slapped her so hard

that Ui staggered and for amomenttheroomwentblack.

“Iwon’tseeyouburned,Ui. I won’t! Tell me whatyou’vedone.”

Ui’s cheek was alreadyon fire. She struggled not tocry. Her mother had taughther long ago never to cry,because the master wouldnoticeher reddenedeyesandthen hewouldwant to knowthe guilty secret that lay onher conscience, because

innocent minds had no needevertocry.Uiswallowedandblinked.Thenshedropped toher knees and reached underthebed.“It’shere.”

Shepulledouttheboxofblankets and uncovered thebundleofclotheswrapped inwhitelaundrycloth.

“Get rid of it!” hermother commandedwhenUiexplained what it was.“Throw it in the sump. No,throw it in the pond! If the

sheriff finds that, he’ll burnusall.”

Ui ran past the stable,ducking behind a thicket ofpomegranateasshemadeherway to the pond. Drawingnear, she peered through aveil of leaves and wasalarmedtoseesixfarmhandsworking on the irrigationchannelthatdrainedthepond.

Theywould surely see her ifshe tried to toss the bundleinto the deepest water at thepond’s center. So sheretreated, back past thestables to the sump, but aglance down the pitconvinced her it had gottentoo shallow tohideanything.Sheheldhernoseagainst thestenchandconsidered.

There was the littleglade close beside the road.She’d gone there more than

once to meet the tinker.Hammondwenttheretoo,sheknew,buthewouldsurelybetoo preoccupied with thegoings-on in the house toventure out there today. Soshetookthesidepatharoundthehousetothelaundrycourtwhere she and her motherhungthefreshwashinginthesunshine. Then she went onthrough the herb garden andinto the orchard, and finally,she ducked into the wild

copse that shielded theestatefrom all prying eyes thatpassedalongtheroad.

Uihadmeanttoburythebundledeepwithin thefallenleaves beneath a thicket, butas she looked around sheheard the creak of a wagonand its grinding wheelsapproaching along the road.Suddenly,sheknewjusthowtogetridofthebundle.Withgreat caution and as littlenoise as she could manage

shemadeherwaythroughthethicket, until she was only acouple of feet from the road,but still hidden from sight.Twooxenploddedpast, theirhuge heads nodding. Thewagon they pulled was ofgoodsize,withawoodenbedandacanvasbonnet.Ayoungman sat alone in the driver’sseat, his face hidden in theshadow of a broad-brimmedhat.

Suddenly, Ui wasn’t so

sure this was a good idea.What if the man saw her?What if someone else wasriding in the back of thewagon?

Then again, the sheriffwould surely burn her if hefoundthebundle.

She waited for thewagon to pass. Thanks be toGod the rest of the roadwasempty.No—thanks be to theDread Hammer! Shewhispered a second brief

prayer to the woman god,“Please watch over me.”Then she scurried out of thethicket, ranup to thebackofthe wagon, and tossed thebundlelightlyupandoverthebackboard. It landed with asoftthump.

Sheexpectedtohearthevoiceofsomeoneinthebackof the wagon cry out insurprise, but no one did. Shedarted back into the thicket.Her heart hammered so hard

itmadeherdizzy.Shepeeredafter the wagon, dreading toseeitrolltoastop,buttoherrelief it kept on at the samesteady pace. She watcheduntil it grew small withdistance. Then she hurriedbacktothehouse,tofindhermother in the laundry courtpretending to be busyhanging dry laundry on theline. “Ui!” she said in afranticwhisper.

Ui saw Cook standing

with her arms crossed justinside the doorway, so shepoutedathermother,saying,“Iwentallthewayouttothecuttinggarden,but Icouldn’tfind the knife in the hutch.How am I supposed to cutfresh flowers without aknife?”

“One of the gardener’sboys must have stolen itagain,” Cook called frominside as she went back towork.“Hightimeyoulearned

tocarryyourownknife,Ui.”“Goinsidethehouseand

washyourflushedface,”Ui’smother snapped. “Eleanor isaskingforyou.”

But Ui found that Eleanorwasbusy.

The captain of themaster’s men-at-arms stoodwatch at the doorway to theinner court. Outside, the

steward served tea to thesheriff’s men who sat in theshade around the fountain.Themasterandthesheriffsatapart. Eleanor stoodtrembling before them,shieldedfromthegazeof theother men by a screen thathad been moved from thefrontroom.

Uipeeredatherbetweenthe slats of a half-closedshutter. She stood with hergaze fixed on the floor,

wearingthesamegreengownshe’d worn last night. Whyhadn’t she worn somethingugly? Not that it mattered.Given the high blush in hertawny cheeks and theshimmer of her glossy blackhair, Eleanor wouldn’t lookplain even dressed in rags—but at least she’d learned thevitalskillofactingsimple.

Ui heard her whineywhisper, sounding as if shewere on the edge of tears.

“But what is a Hauntén,Papa?Idon’tunderstand.”

“It’s a kind of demon,daughter.AnenemyofGod.”

Eleanor’s lovely handwent to her mouth as shegasped. “We must be indanger! Oh, Papa, whatshouldwedo?”

“We rely on our ownmen-at-arms, daughter, andthevalorof thesheriff.Beatpeace.”

The sheriff shook his

head. “Enough. There’snothingtolearnhere.Shehasthe innocence of a smallchild.”

The master scowled. “Iwarned you shewould knownothing.”Hewavedhishandin dismissal and Eleanorscurried back into the house,duckingpast thecaptainwhostood watch at the doorway.When she saw Ui, shepressed a hand against herheart, and they traded a

conspiratorialsmile.Outside, the sheriff was

speaking to the master. “Ithink the demon must havecomeherebychance,seekingfood, and sleep. If yourdaughterhadspokenaprayertosummonhim—”

Ui jumped as themaster’s hand came downhard against the arm of hischair. “Summonedhim?Youmakethisaccusation?”

“I have made no

accusation.”“Toevensuggestshedid

such a thing—it’s intolerablyinsolent! My daughter hashad the utmost supervision,and would never committreasonagainstourKing.”

The sheriff answeredthis in a cold, determinedvoice. “I meant only that ifsome woman here hadsummoned the demon, youwouldnotnowbealive—andthatwouldbegrievousforthe

King.”The master wasn’t

mollified. “You have doneenough here, terrifying mydaughterandmyconcubine.Iinviteyounowtoleave.”

The sheriff, though,wasa brave man and not easilyput off. “There are otherwomeninyourhousehold.”

“My slaves? You wantmetoparadethembeforeyouaswell?”

“No, Master. It’s

pointless to talk to suchstupid cows unless they feelthe fire at their feet. Withyourpermissionmymenwillsearch the servants’ quartersforanysignofheresy.”

Themaster said nothingfor many seconds. Ui didn’tknow how the sheriff couldendure his angry glare, butendure it he did. Finally, themaster said, “Make yoursearch.Andthenbegone.”

WehopeyouenjoyedthissampleofHepentheWatcher,byLindaNagata.Forinformationonprintandebookversionsvisit:MythicIslandPressLLC(MythicIslandPress.com)ortheauthor'swebsiteMythicIsland.com.

BooksbyLindaNagata

StoriesofthePuzzleLandsThe Dread Hammer -

Book 1: a fairytale of love, war,murder,marriage,andfate

Hepen the Watcher -Book 2: a fairytale of exile, rebellion,fidelity,andfire

TheNanotech Succession is

a collection of four stand-alone novels set in a sharedscience-fiction story world,beginning in the present dayand reaching into the farfuture.Followingthetimelineof the story world the booksare:

Tech-HeavenTheBohrMaker(winnerof

the 1996 Locus Award for Best FirstNovel)

DeceptionWellVast

OtherStoryWorldsGoddesses & Other

Stories (a short-fiction collectionincluding the 2000 Nebula AwardwinnerforBestNovella)

LimitofVisionMemorySkye-Object3270a(young

adult)

AbouttheAuthor

Linda Nagata grew up in arented beach house on thenorth shore of Oahu. ShegraduatedfromtheUniversityof Hawaii with a degree inzoology and worked for atime at Haleakala NationalPark on the island of Maui.Shehasbeenawriter,amom,a programmer of database-

driven websites, and lately apublisher and book designer.She is the author of ninenovels including The BohrMaker, winner of the LocusAward for best first novel,and thenovella“Goddesses,”the firstonlinepublication toreceive a Nebula award. Shelives with her husband intheir long-time home on theislandofMaui.

Findheronlineat:

MythicIsland.comtwitter.com/LindaNagatafacebook.com/Linda.Nagata.author

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TableofContents

TitlePageCopyrightMapTheHuntNegotiationsAPrettyWifeTrustEnchantmentANewGodTheClinkofCoins

NothingtoLoseNefiónTheMidwifeMercyKoráyosLoyaltyHeartbeatsTheMidwife’sBooksDemon-RiddenACruelWifeWhatPassesForTruthTheFortressofSamerhenDismayBloodlinePrayers

AWolfishSnarlRecoveryTheRoadEastLustTheWildWoodRetributionAftermathSample Chapters: Hepen theWatcher

BooksbyLindaNagataAbouttheAuthorAboutBookViewCafe