Under A Velvet Cloak by Piers Anthony Page A

find the right position. I also have not forgotten the quest for your lost man. Unfortunately no word has reached me on that score.”
    “Which suggests that a physical search is not enough,” Ona said. “Magic may be required, as was the case for me.”
    “Magic,” he echoed. “Are you hinting what I fear?”
    “I believe she could handle it. She’s smart enough.”
    “Am I missing something?” Kerena asked.
    “There is a woman who has use for talented women,” Hirsh said.
    “A woman? Not a man?”
    “A woman,” Ona said. “In the sense that the brothel madam is a woman. This one is far more talented and powerful, and dangerous when thwarted. Perhaps this is not a good idea.”
    “But she could help me find Morely?”
    “If anyone can, she can,” Hirsh said. “She could do more good for you than anyone else in the kingdom. But she could also do you more harm. Her temper is unpredictable. This may after all be too dangerous to risk.”
    Kerena was intrigued. “Who is she?”
    “Morgan le Fey. The king’s sister.”
    Kerena felt a chill of premonition. Danger, indeed. “I have heard of her.
    Is it true she can cut the heart out of a man without remorse?”
    “She can do it without even touching him,” Ona said. “No, this is a bad idea. We will find you some other position.”
    “Agreed,” Hirsh said.
    Kerena was relieved. She had no idea what use the Fey would want to make of her, but it surely would not be comfortable.
    “So that’s decided,” Ona said. “We will not send you into that lion’s den.”
    A servant appeared. “A coach is here, asking for the Lady Rena.”
    “What?” Hirsh asked. “Who has the temerity to claim a member of my household?”
    “The Lady Fey,” the servant replied.
    The three of them exchanged glances, similarly appalled. How could the Fey have known of Kerena’s presence here, let alone that she was about to be let go? The situation had changed only this morning.
    It had to be magic. Kerena knew with a sinking feeling that it would not be denied.

Chapter 3 Cloak and Dagger.

    The coach conveyed her to a hidden castle in the center of town. It looked like a seedy neighborhood, but as the coach entered its decrepit gate it shifted to become a glorious edifice overlooking a lovely estate. This was of course the magic of illusion. But which was more truly the illusion: the rundown collections of hovels seen from afar, or the massive ramparts seen from close in?
    Did it matter? Probably it was some of each. The point was that few would think to look for such a stronghold here. The faerie sister of the king could not be found unless she wanted to be.
    The coach halted. Kerena stepped out onto a stone platform and stood there. The coach moved on. Now she saw with surprise that the horse that had drawn it was actually a harnessed griffin: part lion, part eagle. That had to be more illusion, as griffins were too wild to be tamed or harnessed. It was probably the original horse clothed with illusion. Still, the magic was apt. The coach itself was probably mostly illusion too, and was really a wagon with a token covering. What did it matter, as long as the appearance was proper?
    No one else was there. Maybe the coach was early and she wasn’t expected yet. Uncertain where to
go,
she decided to find someone and inquire.
    She mounted the steps of a winding stone stairway that led up to a high door nestled between rounded turrets. But when she got there, the door was closed and bolted, and no one answered her knock and call. The stair continued up, so she ascended further, around a turret and beside a deep inner court. She peered down to see shrubs growing therein, and perhaps some small trees. But still no sign of human presence.
    Jolie was impressed. This was quality magic, of a level she hadn’t thought existed this far back. Fortunately the timelines aligned; she wasn’t sure how she would have changed them otherwise.
    At last the stair brought her to the top of