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attack and described as a tall noble with reddish hair, Magiere may wonder. We
must create some other creature for her to track. Sit, and I will cut your
hair, then use charcoal and oil to dye it black."
Welstiel took out his dagger and motioned to a chair. Chane hesitated.
"It will wash out," Welstiel said.
"But will my hair grow back?" Chane rasped.
The question surprised Welstiel. Not by its vanity, but that it was the first
time Chane had shown such concern over anything since crawling forth from his
second death.
"Have you ever seen a dead body months after it was buried?" Welstiel asked.
Chane shook his head.
"The hair is longer. And I will not cut much off."
He motioned again to the chair. Chane sighed but obeyed.
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Late into the night, Leesil was still awake. Magiere curled against him,
breathing softly, lost in deep sleep. He watched her pale face on the pillow.
He wished he could join her in the oblivion of sleep, but he couldn't.
Nightmares wouldn't let him.
The name of Hedí Progae opened dark cell doors in his mind that he'd long
been able to keep locked. He couldn't close them again.
Leesil tried to focus on the memory of Magiere's mouth, her body, both soft
and hard, and her hands all over him. But whenever his eyelids drifted shut
from fatigue, he saw the back of Baron Progae's bleeding neck.
Progae's hazel eyes opened where he lay dead as Leesil pulled the bedcovers
back into place. Those eyes rolled to glare at Leesil, and his pale lips
parted, speaking with Gavril's voice.
"Think only of your mother, father& of yourself& this is how you survive."
Leesil's eyes snapped open.
He'd slipped into sleep for an instant, but he couldn't face it again. Not
without smothering away the nightmares, drowning them as dead as his victims.
He'd sworn to Magiere never to do that again, but the moment stretched as he
watched her beside him. When his eyes drifted closed again, he snapped them
open.
He couldn't stand the faces in his sleep anymore.
Leesil slipped from under the blanket. Magiere rolled, and he froze until she
grew still once again. He pulled the blanket and sheepskin cover back in place
over her bare body, and walked softly to the door. He stopped for a moment,
looking back at Magiere's sleeping form, then stepped into the hallway and
gently shut the door.
The inn was silent. The stairs were empty, even of cats. He crept downstairs,
and two steps creaked lightly under his feet. All was quiet in the common
room, and he stepped around behind the bar and found the cask of red wine Byrd
stored there.
Leesil opened the cask and picked up a tin cup from under the bar. When he
poured out half a cup, he stared into the red liquid. His hand shook slightly,
and he gripped the cup with both hands.
He could put it down, go back upstairs to Magiere.
He knew this, even as he drew the wine to his lips and swallowed.
Chapter Nine
The next morning Wynn awoke from a deep sleep to a knock at her door. She
opened her eyes, disoriented at first, and remembered where she was."Leesil?"
She sat up, wiping at her sleepy eyes, as the door cracked open. Byrd stuck
his head in. Yellow scarf tied neatly about his head, he looked as if he had
been up for a while.
Wynn pushed her disheveled hair out of her face,then quickly pulled the bed's
sheepskin cover up to her neck.
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"Yes?" she asked.
Byrd smiled as his gaze fell upon the fat form of Clover Roll curled up on
the bed's end. Tomato and Potato lay tangled in sleep on a braid rug near
Chap. Head uponpaws, Chap was fully awake and glowering at the kittens.
"I sentParis word that I'd located Magiere," Byrd said. "But I didn't tell
him where. A messenger came back this morning. Lieutenant Omasta will meet her
below the bridge gatehouse at noon. No one gets into the keep without an
escort."
Wynn took a deep breath, still trying to come fully awake. "Have you told
Magiere?"
"No, I thought I'd leave that to you."
This was odd, but Wynn kept quiet about it. Byrd made her nervous, as she
knew his polite front was an act. After last night's confrontation in the
kitchen, it was obvious he wanted something from Leesil.
"Of course," she replied, "if you will close the door so I may dress."
He pulled his head halfway out and then stopped. He leaned in again to eye
Wynn curiously.
"You won't get out of Omasta's sight," he warned, "so watch carefully in the
chambers or corridors you pass through.Don't just look the place over. Pay
attention to the placement of guards standing watch and remember anything you
overhear."
Chap rumbled softly, and Wynn glanced toward the dog. His head was still
down, but his crystalline eyes were on Byrd.
"Thank you," Wynn said. "Chap and I know what to look for."
Byrd frowned. "He's just a dog."
"And your 'partner' is just a cat," she retorted, with a quick glance at
Clover Roll.
"All right," Byrd answered with a shrug. "Just be careful. Darmouth would
step on you without a blink."
He closed the door.
Wynn scrambled out of bed and pulled her heavy coat on over her shift. Chap
got up, shook himself, and followed as she hurried out the door and across the
hall. This time she knocked, quietly at first. When no one answered, she
knocked more sharply.
"Yes?" Magiere called from inside.
"It isI. May I come in?"
After a brief pause the door cracked open, and Magiere peered out. She looked
haggard, as if she had suffered a long night with little sleep. The room
smelled stuffy, even from the hallway, and an unpleasant scent floated to
Wynn's nostrils.
"What is it?" Magiere asked.
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"Byrd just came to me. Can I come in?"
Magiere hesitated,then stepped back. Wynn entered with Chap tagging along.
"Has someone been sick?" Wynn asked, wrinkling her small nose.
"No," Magiere answered.
Leesil rolled in the bed but did not sit up. His eyes wereclosed, strands of
his hair tangled over half of his face. Wynn quietly related everything Byrd
had told her. Magiere's eyes sharpened as she listened.
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