Elvenborn

were the chief ar­chitects of the Citadel, and it was time to consult with them.

She and Lorryn, Alara and Father Dragon sat together over a three-dimensional 'map' of the Citadel, sculpted in removable layers, trying to plan what next needed to be molded out of the rocks of their mountain. One grim consideration—escape tun­nels. Just in case the Great Lords decided to send the formida­ble Lord Kyrtian after them. Another, a duplicate of the Citadel far enough away to flee to, but near enough that an evacuation could take place by means of the transportation spell. There were enough Wizards able to use it now that the entire popula­ tion could be evacuated within hours, and the advantage of the spell was that there would be no tracks to trace them by.

The existence of this duplicate—which was near enough to Zed's iron-mines to provide extra protection, but at this point hardly more than a few chambers molded out of the rock by some of the youngest dragons—was for now a closely-kept se­cret. Even from the dragons working on it. Alara had told them it was nothing more than a new set of lairs.

Which we also need, Shana thought, wondering just how

thin their resources could be stretched before things started snapping.

'The prisoners—how goes the memory-making?' Father Dragon asked. He and Alara were in halfblood form at the mo­ment, or they would never have fit into the map-chamber. 'I do not wish to alarm you unduly, but the sooner we can drop those two where they can be found, the better.'

'Narshy's sorted out who's the best at planting the new memories, and he's got them stuffed with about a year's worth,' Shana replied, tracing a possible exit tunnel from the lowest storage chamber onto the model with a wax pencil. 'We de­cided to make the memories confused and foggy, as if they'd been kept drugged.'

'We nominated Caellach as the Chief Wizard of this imagi­nary lot,' Lorryn put in, getting a grin from Father Dragon and a head shake from Alara. 'We had to have somebody, and at least he's memorable.'

'Narshy says we should be able to plant them in a few days. He took the real memories of being captured, put new faces on the people doing the capture, then took it from there.' Shana brooded over the model. 'He's using as much of their real memories as he can, just changing the faces to Wizards, the tents to rock walls—and eliminating the iron collars. He's mak­ing those into something like slave-collars, so that the Elven-lords will think that this new lot of concocted Wizards are actually better at using elven magic than the Elvenlords them­selves are.'

'A good touch,' Father Dragon Said, admiringly.

'Now if only I could figure out a way to be in two places at the same time,' Shana said, staring down at the map.

Keman and Dora had not been able to get any nearer to Lord Kyrtian without revealing themselves, thanks in no small part to the suspicious Sargeant Gel. Shana had not dared ask them to take that final, irrevocable step. I need desperately to see Lord Kyrtian for myself! Only then would she know whether or not he was truly to be trusted—and if trusted, to be ap­proached. But if she was gone from here, there was no telling

what mischief Caellach might not get up to. If she was de­layed—if something happened—could Lorryn control the old troublemaker for long? Or would Caellach manage to regain his hold over his old faction and set this entire warren seething with so many quarrels and bad feelings that it would all fall to pieces?

'Your mind or your body?' Kalamadea asked, suddenly, with an odd birdlike twist of his head.

'What do you mean?' she replied, wondering what had prompted that sort of reply.

'Well—if it's your mind that needs to be in two places at once—that is, if you feel that you have to be able to see and make decisions yourself about things going on in two different places at the same time, then we can't help you,' Kalamadea said. 'But if it's your body that needs to be seen in two places— if, for instance, you wanted to leave, and had confidence in someone enough to let him make decisions for you but you needed a sort of figurehead or puppet of yourself so that certain people wouldn't decide to make trouble while you were gone—

'A certain person whose name rhymes with drain,' Alara put in, with a sly wink.

'Exactly—and if that's what's concerning you, well, that's entirely different. And it's something Alara and I can help you with.' Father Dragon looked particularly smug, and it didn't take long for Shana to realize why, what he meant, and she wanted to smack herself in the head for not thinking of it sooner.

'Of course!' she exclaimed. 'Oh, Mother—there's no reason why you can't shape-shift into me, is there? You know me well enough to counterfeit me for everybody—' She flushed, as Lor­ryn laughed and made a face. '—well, practically everybody!'

'No reason at all,' Alara said agreeably. 'And I don't know why we didn't think of this before, when You- Know-Who be­came so interfering and disagreeable. Unless it was because we were too worried about what had happened to you to think of it.'

Already her mind was racing; if Alara could do this, and was willing, then she could go in person to see this Lord Kyrtian

and make a decision about whether or not she should try to make an ally of him.

She exchanged a glance with Lorryn. 'Lord Kyrtian,' he said simply, their minds following the same track.

'I can't make a decision about him without seeing him my­self,' she replied, nodding.

'Nor should you,' Kalamadea said firmly. 'Keman and Dora are good children, but if they make a poor choice, they have the option of flying away from Wizards and Citadel and all. Not—' he added hastily '—that I believe that they would, but the op­tion is there, lurking behind their thoughts, and it could make them a bit less cautious.' He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'I believe that same option might have made me too cavalier in my own decisions at the time of the First War.'

Since Shana had occasionally wondered that herself, there was no good answer she could make to that.

Since she couldn't, she held her tongue. 'Lorryn can con­trol Caellach better than I can,' she said, with complete confi­dence and a wink to him. 'And Lorryn is someone the rest will listen to.'

They listen to him more than they do to me, actually. Maybe because he never was a wizard's apprentice. There were some profound disadvantages to having been the rawest of raw be­ginners within the old Citadel and the old regime itself, and that was one of them. 'There's only one difficulty, and that's— well, if anyone looks into Alara's mind, they're going to know she isn't me.'

'But the troublemakers are not the ones who are at all adept with the powers of human magic,' Lorryn pointed out logically.

Alara just shrugged off the difficulty. 'How often is anyone likely to snoop on the thoughts of the Elvenbane anyway?' she asked. 'I shouldn't think it happens often, and besides, I can probably learn mind-wall well enough to keep them out.'

Perhaps. Perhaps not. Dragon minds aren't like ours. But Alara was right that in all this time, Shana had very seldom felt the touch of another's mind on hers, and even then it was some­one wanting to communicate, not snoop.

'I can take you to where Keman and Dora are,' Kalamadea continued serenely. 'Now that Lord Kyrtian has taken leave of his command while the Great Lords debate whether or not to disband the greater part of the army, Keman and Dora have just today followed him to Lady Morthena's estate.'

'Lady Moth?' Lorryn's exclamation made them all turn to look at him—and this news must have come as a surprise to him. 'But that's where my mother is! Lady Moth is one of her oldest friends!'

'Really?' That was interesting, but not overly so, and it didn't seem particularly important to their current