Incarceron

She nodded. She was wearing a dark blue traveling dress and cloak, with a special pocket sewn into it for the Key.

"A great morning for the House of Arlex, Claudia. The begi

She smiled and dropped a curtsy. "I'm ready, sir."

He nodded. "I always knew you would be. I always knew you'd never let me down."

Like my mother did? she wondered acidly. But she said nothing, and her father gave

Jared the briefest nod and led her out. They swept into the great hall, over the lavenderstrewn floor, down between the rows of fascinated servants, the Warden of Incarceron and his proud daughter, setting out for the marriage that would make her a queen. And on a signal from Ralph the staff cheered and applauded and threw sweet irises underfoot; they rang tiny silver bells in honor of the wedding they would never see.

Jared walked behind, a satchel of books under one arm. He shook hands with the servants, and the maids moped over him, pushing tiny packets of sweetmeats at him, promising to keep the tower safe, not to touch any of his precious instruments, feed the fox cub and the birds.

As Claudia took her seat in the coach and looked back, she felt a rueful lump in the back of her throat. They would all miss Jared, his gentle ways, his fragile good looks, his willingness to dose their coughing children and advise their wayward sons. None of them seemed at all sorry to see her go.

But then whose fault was that? She had played the game. She was the mistress, the

Warden's daughter.

Cold as ice. Hard as nails.

She raised her head and smiled across at Alys. "Four days' traveling. I intend to ride for at least half of it."

Her nurse frowned. "I doubt the Earl will. And he'll probably want you to sit in his coach for some of the time."

"Well, I'm not married to him yet. When I am, he'll soon find out it's what I want that counts."

If they thought her hard, she would be hard. And yet, as the horses were mounted and the outriders gathered and the coaches began the slow turn to the gatehouse, all she wanted was to be staying here, in the house where she had lived since she was born, and she leaned out of the window and waved and called out all their names, her eyes stinging with sudden tears. "Ralph! Job! Mary-Ellen!"

And they waved back, a storm of handkerchiefs and the white doves rising from the gables and the bees in the honey-suckle buzzing as the carriage rumbled over the wooden drawbridge. In the dark green waters of the moat she saw the house reflected, saw moorhens and swans arrow over it, and behind her in a great procession the wagons and coaches and riders and hounds and falconers of her entourage, of the household of the "warden of Incarceron, on the day his plans began to come to fruition.

Windblown, she threw herself back in the leather seat and blew hair from her eyes. Well, maybe.

THEY WEREmen and yet how could they be?

They were at least eight feet tall. They walked with an odd angular gait, stalking like herons, ignoring the vast drifts of sharp leaves, crunching straight through them.

Fi

"Stilts?

Of course. As one of them paced by he saw them up close, knee-high metallic calipers, and the men walked on them expertly, taking long strides, and he saw too that they used the height to touch certain points of the trees, small knots in the trunks, and that the trees instantly sprouted semi-organic fruits that the men harvested.

Turning his head he looked for Gildas, but wherever the Sapient and the girl were hidden, they were invisible to him.

He watched the line of men work down through the trees. As they moved down the hillside they seemed to shrink, and Fi

After a while only their heads and shoulders showed. Then they were gone.

Keiro waited a long moment before getting up. He gave a soft whistle and a heap of leaves convulsed nearby. Gildas's silvery head came up. He said, "Gone?"

"Far enough."

Keiro watched Attia scramble hurriedly out, then he turned. Taking one look at his oathbrother he said quietly, "Fi

It was happening. Looking at the shimmer in the air had done it. Fi

"Get hold of him," Gildas snapped.

From somewhere distant Keiro said, "Wait."

And then Fi

Through it, a draft blew.

Small flashes of pain stung him. He struggled through them, feeling, touching the edges, bringing his face close, putting his eye to the sliver of light, gazing through.

He saw a shimmer of color. It was so bright it made his eyes water, made him gasp.

Shapes moved there, a green world, a sky as blue as in his dreams, a great buzzing creature of black and amber hurtling toward him.

He cried out and staggered back, felt Keiro grab both arms from behind. "Keep looking, brother. What do you see? What is it, Fi

He crumpled. All the strength went from his legs and he collapsed in the leaf-litter. Attia shoved Keiro away. Quickly she poured water into a cup and held it out to Fi

Above him, voices raged. When he could hear, he realized one of them was Attia's, .. treating him like that! Don't you see he's sick!"

Keiro's laugh was scornful. "He'll get over it. He's a seer. He sees things. Things we need to know."

"Don't you care about him at all?"

Fi

Keiro kept his mocking grin. "He's my brother. Of course I care about him."

"You only care about yourself." She turned to Gildas. "And you too. Master. You ..

She stopped. Gildas obviously wasn't listening. He stood leaning one arm on a metal tree, staring ahead. "Come here," he said quietly.

Keiro put his hand out and Fi

The forest ended here. Ahead a narrow road ran down to a City. It stood behind walls in a fiery landscape of bare plains. Houses clustered together, constructed of patches of metal, towers and battlements built of strange dark wood, thatched with tin and copper leaves.

All along the road to it, in long noisy streams of laughter and shouting and song, in crowds and wagons, carrying children and driving flocks of sheep, hundreds and hundreds of people were streaming.

HER KNEES up on the carriage seat, Claudia read the small pad while Alys slept. The carriage bounced; outside, the green woods and fields of the Wardenry rattled by in a cloud of dust and flies.

My name is Gregor Bartlett. This is my testament. I pray those who find it to keep it safe, and when the time comes, to use it, because a great injustice has been done and only I am alive to know about it.