Wings of Omen

She rolled over on her side and let go a sigh. Despite her mood a small grin stole over her features as her gaze fell on a table across the room. On it stood a bottle of Vuksibah.

There was a gamble she certainly hadn't lost, she smiled to herself. That handsome little thief taught her a lot, and only a little of it about Sanctuary. After the first bottle of Vuksibah anything he said was merest accompaniment to what he did. Fortunately, she woke with a clear head able to recall every word. She doubted he could claim the same. She took the remaining bottle, reclaimed her circlet which he had slipped from her brow and secreted beneath a pillow, and left him asleep.

It would be good to see Hanse again, she thought. Why not? Not even her workouts with Dayme had been able to turn her mind from the danger to her cousin. Yet it served no purpose to continually worry. Perhaps Hanse could find a way to divert her.

She rose, slipped off her gown, and pulled on new leather garments from the chest at the foot of her bed. There, also, were her weapons. She strapped on her fancy sword. As an afterthought, she took up the two daggers. Hanse considered himself good with throwing-knives. It might make exciting play to challenge him.

Dressed, she tucked the bottle of Vuksibah under her arm and left her room. Her father was asleep or reading in his own chambers, and she did not disturb him. He worried when she went out, but never tried to stop her. She loved him most for that.

She descended stairs to the main floor, her boot heels clicking on the stone. Dayme must have heard her, for he was waiting at the bottom. Two more of her eight gladiators would be prowling about somewhere nearby as well. Ka-dakithis was not alone on Theron's list; her father had been friend as well as relative to the late Emperor.

"Bring Reyk," she instructed her dark-haired giant. "Then get someone else to stand your watch. You've walked the streets with me these past five nights, and the lack of sleep showed in our workout today."

Dayme frowned, then quickly hid it. "Let me go with you. Lady. The night is treacherous...."

She shook her head. "Not tonight, my friend." She indicated the liquor she carried. "Tonight, it's a little pleasure I seek."

He seemed about to speak, then thought better of it, turned, and left her alone. The falcons were caged at the rear of the estate, but Dayme returned promptly with her pet.

Chenaya wrapped the jess around her fingers, then removed Reyk's hood and gave it back to Dayrne. She did not need it to handle her favorite bird; it was a different story for others.

"Now to bed with you." She squeezed playfully at his huge bicep. "And in the morning be prepared for the hardest workout of your life!"

She passed into the warm night, feeling better now that she was free of the confines of her room. She would look for Hanse at his apartment first, at the Vulgar Unicorn if he wasn't home. It might take a little time, but she'd find him. He was worth the effort.

As she crossed the Avenue of Temples a young girl stepped out of the shadows and blocked her path. A small hand brushed back the concealing hood of a worn cloak, exposing dark curls and wide, frightened eyes. "Please, Mistress," she said timidly, "a coin for a luckless unfortunate?"

Chenaya realized she had forgotten her own cloak. No matter, the street people knew her well by now. She made to pass the girl by. .

The girl stepped closer, saw Reyk, and stopped. She chewed the tip of a finger, then said again, "Please, Mistress, whatever you can spare. Otherwise. I must sell myself in the Promise of Heaven to feed my little brother."

Chenaya peered closely at the thin face emaciated from hunger. Those large imploring eyes locked with hers, full of fear and full of hope. Beggars had approached her other nights, and she had kept her coins. Something about this one, however, loosened her heart and her purse strings. Several pieces of Rankan gold fell into the outstretched hand.

It was more wealth than the child had ever seen. She stared, disbelieving, at the gleams in her palm. Tears sprang into her eyes. She hurled herself to the ground, flung her arms around her benefactor's legs, and cried.

Reyk screeched and sprang to defend his handler. Only the jess held him away from the sobbing child. Chenaya fought to control him and to keep her balance as those arms entwined her. The bottle of Vuksibah slipped from under her arm and broke; the precious liquor splattered her boots. She let go a savage curse and pushed the silly beggar girl away.

"I'm sorry, Mistress," she wailed, scrambling to her feet, backing away. "So sorry, so sorry!" She whirled and fled into the darkness.

Bits of glass shone around her feet as Vuksibah seeped into the dust. She sighed, stirred the shards with a toe. Well, another could be gotten at the Unicorn.

Then a tingle crawled up her spine. She kneeled to see better, then cast a glance over her shoulder at the sky. The moon carved a fine, bright crescent in the night, and every piece of glass mirrored its silveriness.

The voice of her god screamed suddenly inside her head. When the splintered moon lies in the dust.

She released the falcon's jess. "Up!" she cried, and Reyk took to the air. She ran through the streets, her brain ringing with Savankala's warning, until she reached her father's estate. She burst through the doors, breathless.

"Dayme!" she called out. He had not obeyed her; he came ru

More words were u

"Where is Reyk?" Dayrne interrupted.

She raised a finger. "Always close by. I can't run and carry him too."

Together they ran back into the dark and up shadowed streets. The tall silhouettes of temples loomed on their left, and the voices of gods called from the gloom-filled entrances, urging them to hurry. Or, perhaps, it was the wind that rose mysteriously from nowhere, wailed down the alleyways, and pushed at their backs. The moon floated before them, beckoning.

They reached the granaries and stopped. The rear wall of the Governor's grounds rose up on the opposite side of the street, impossibly high and challenging. "The west side," Chenaya ordered.

They had pla

Another wall rose around the granaries themselves. It was to the west side of this wall that they ran. Dayme* unslung the pack, removed a grapple and rope. Here the wall was lowest and easy to scale. In no time they were atop it, racing along its narrow surface. Gradually, the wall angled upward to reach its highest point above the granary gate opposite the palace wall. Dayme prepared the second grapple.

Hanse had bragged how he had broken into the palace. No man was strong enough to hurl a grapple the height of the palace's wall, he claimed. Probably he was right. But the Street of Plenty which separated the granary and the palace was not as wide as the wall was high. Still, for an ordinary man even that was an impossible throw; but not for one possessed of Dayme's skill and rippling strength.

The night hummed as he whirled the grapple in ever-widening circles. She lay flat to avoid being knocked over the edge. Finally he let fly. Grapple and line sailed outward, disappeared. Then metal scraped on stone. Dayme tugged the line taut.