a scroll to each
saying that I’m returning from Pamr and will look at the claims as soon as I return."
Jecks smiled. “You will gain two weeks by that.”
“If that."
“Oh... and the weapons smith, the one who was a wheel-wright, he was killed in a tavern brawl.”
“And we’re back to having no one in Falcor who can forge weapons?” Anna refilled her goblet,
knowing she shouldn’t be drinking so much so quickly, but she’d taken a little over a week to
repair something that needed to be fixed, and the moment she’d left, things had started to get
worse. She paused. “Was the brawl an accident?”
Jecks shrugged. “I would say so, but one could not rule out foul play.”
“No…not when we need an armorer to hold off enemies on half our borders.” Anna forced
herself to take a small sip of the wine.
“Hanfor has suggested you create the position of Armorer of Defalk and offer a ten-gold bonus
for an experienced smith.”
“Twenty’ said Anna. “Ten to be paid after the first two weeks and ten after the first year. Send
scrolls everywhere.”
“Tomorrow, I will talk to Hanfor.”
“Well... since we’re discussing problems, there’s one more."
Jecks waited.
“There was this youth... at the chandlery..." Anna swallowed. The one in the pools in your
seeking spells, the one who wants your destruction... “Shit!”
Jecks’ mouth dropped open.
“It’s hard to explain. Come with me.” She pushed back her chair and started for the door, and
Jecks rose, following.
Lejun and Kerhor followed them back up the stairs, first to Anna’s chamber, where she grabbed
the lutar, and then to the scrying room, the room that had once been a guest chamber and now
held only a mirror pool and a writing desk—and candles in wall sconces. The two guards
stationed themselves outside the door, while Jecks lit the candles and Anna tuned the lutar.
“You think you will see something now?” Jecks gestured toward the darkness beyond the closed
shutter.
“Enough,” grunted Anna, struggling with the tuning pegs.
A single vocalise was enough to clear her cords, enough for the simple spell she sang, at least.
Of those with power of the song
seek those who’d do me wrong
and show them in this silver cast
and make that vision well last.
As it had been the last time she had used the spell—there were three images, but one was
different. The blonde seer from Nordwei was in one silvered circle. The second contained a dark-
haired and thin-faced youth in an ornate cream-and-green tunic, lounging at a table beside a less
than fully clothed young woman. His face was familiar, though Anna had never seen it, and so
were the cream and green.
“Neserean colors there…” murmured Jecks.
“That has to be Rabyn,” concluded Anna. “He looks more like his mother.”
“He’s acting like his sire.” Jecks’ voice was dry.
“It’s the other one—the one in brown.” Anna gestured toward the young man at the battered-
looking writing table. “He was watching me in Pamr, and I knew I’d seen him. I just couldn’t
place where I’d seen his face.”
“A chandler’s son?”
“He’s the chandler’s son. He has to be. You remember? The one who tried to kill me with a bow
in Pamr when I was on my way to meet Behlem?”
“That was before you became Regent,” Jecks pointed out.
“He uses Darksong. The whole chandlery felt twisted when I looked at it, but I thought it was
me." Anna sang the release couplet.
Let this scene of scrying, mirror filled with light,
vanish like the darkness when the sun is bright....
Jecks tilted his head sideways. “He uses Darksong, and he’s opposing you, but he’s only a
chandler.”
“Until I became a sorceress, I was only a teacher and a singer,” she replied.
Jecks shook his head. “You were always a
saying that I’m returning from Pamr and will look at the claims as soon as I return."
Jecks smiled. “You will gain two weeks by that.”
“If that."
“Oh... and the weapons smith, the one who was a wheel-wright, he was killed in a tavern brawl.”
“And we’re back to having no one in Falcor who can forge weapons?” Anna refilled her goblet,
knowing she shouldn’t be drinking so much so quickly, but she’d taken a little over a week to
repair something that needed to be fixed, and the moment she’d left, things had started to get
worse. She paused. “Was the brawl an accident?”
Jecks shrugged. “I would say so, but one could not rule out foul play.”
“No…not when we need an armorer to hold off enemies on half our borders.” Anna forced
herself to take a small sip of the wine.
“Hanfor has suggested you create the position of Armorer of Defalk and offer a ten-gold bonus
for an experienced smith.”
“Twenty’ said Anna. “Ten to be paid after the first two weeks and ten after the first year. Send
scrolls everywhere.”
“Tomorrow, I will talk to Hanfor.”
“Well... since we’re discussing problems, there’s one more."
Jecks waited.
“There was this youth... at the chandlery..." Anna swallowed. The one in the pools in your
seeking spells, the one who wants your destruction... “Shit!”
Jecks’ mouth dropped open.
“It’s hard to explain. Come with me.” She pushed back her chair and started for the door, and
Jecks rose, following.
Lejun and Kerhor followed them back up the stairs, first to Anna’s chamber, where she grabbed
the lutar, and then to the scrying room, the room that had once been a guest chamber and now
held only a mirror pool and a writing desk—and candles in wall sconces. The two guards
stationed themselves outside the door, while Jecks lit the candles and Anna tuned the lutar.
“You think you will see something now?” Jecks gestured toward the darkness beyond the closed
shutter.
“Enough,” grunted Anna, struggling with the tuning pegs.
A single vocalise was enough to clear her cords, enough for the simple spell she sang, at least.
Of those with power of the song
seek those who’d do me wrong
and show them in this silver cast
and make that vision well last.
As it had been the last time she had used the spell—there were three images, but one was
different. The blonde seer from Nordwei was in one silvered circle. The second contained a dark-
haired and thin-faced youth in an ornate cream-and-green tunic, lounging at a table beside a less
than fully clothed young woman. His face was familiar, though Anna had never seen it, and so
were the cream and green.
“Neserean colors there…” murmured Jecks.
“That has to be Rabyn,” concluded Anna. “He looks more like his mother.”
“He’s acting like his sire.” Jecks’ voice was dry.
“It’s the other one—the one in brown.” Anna gestured toward the young man at the battered-
looking writing table. “He was watching me in Pamr, and I knew I’d seen him. I just couldn’t
place where I’d seen his face.”
“A chandler’s son?”
“He’s the chandler’s son. He has to be. You remember? The one who tried to kill me with a bow
in Pamr when I was on my way to meet Behlem?”
“That was before you became Regent,” Jecks pointed out.
“He uses Darksong. The whole chandlery felt twisted when I looked at it, but I thought it was
me." Anna sang the release couplet.
Let this scene of scrying, mirror filled with light,
vanish like the darkness when the sun is bright....
Jecks tilted his head sideways. “He uses Darksong, and he’s opposing you, but he’s only a
chandler.”
“Until I became a sorceress, I was only a teacher and a singer,” she replied.
Jecks shook his head. “You were always a
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