teeth flatten and fuse into a long, sharp mass, its cheeks erupt with feathers, its small flippers stretch into wings.
It had become a bird-a great black pelican. In its ample throat, Felthrup was now riding like a rabbit in a hunter's sack. Below-dizzying sight! — he glimpsed sea and rocks and mainland, yellow lamps in Uturphe windows, a flash of lightning in the east. Then the bird croaked savagely and dived for the Chathrand.
They came in fast, right at the gallery windows. When they were but twenty feet away Felthrup saw that the bobbing light was a candle in a girl's upraised hand. Quickly she threw open the window and jumped aside. The pelican slowed at the last instant, fanning its wings. A final thump, and they were still.
Two dogs began to bark.
'Soaked!' the girl was shouting. 'Look at this rug, will you? What on earth will I tell Syrarys?'
The pelican rose, wobbled and spat Felthrup onto the bearskin, along with a last gallon of seawater.
'Tell her you left a window open,' it said.
Felthrup found himself looking up through a curtain of golden hair. The Treaty Bride, Thasha Isiq herself, was kneeling beside him, stroking his soggy fur. Then she turned to his rescuer and smiled.
'I like you better as a mink, Ramachni.'
He was soon a mink again, but it was many minutes before Felthrup could be persuaded to stop squeaking his thanks. As Thasha hung the rug over the washbasin, he limped about the stateroom, praising everything-her kindness, Ramachni's magic, her mother's necklace, a shiny spoon. Jorl and Suzyt followed him about like twin elephants: they had taken an immediate liking to the rat.
When Thasha had mopped up as best she could, they all squeezed into her cabin. Thasha closed the door.
'Now,' said Ramachni, 'tell me what I dread to know, Felthrup Stargraven. For I heard you one midnight, weeks ago, addressing your kind: I could tell you another story, brothers, about a monster of a man who soon will walk this ship. Niriviel the falcon spoke of him, proud as a prince. But you'd never believe me. If only they had let you talk! For I never heard your voice again, until tonight.'
'That is because the ixchel locked me in a pipe to die!' said Felthrup, his voice rising in pain again. 'They would not listen; they assumed I was just a plain, nosy, execrable, humdrum rat. And when the fair Diadrelu rebuked her brother and took my side, what did I do? I led them to Mugstur, and for all I know he killed them.'
He burst into tears again, and the mastiffs whined in solidarity.
'Hush!' said Thasha. 'Diadrelu's alive-at least Pazel thought so. But he also said her people would kill anyone who talked about them.'
'That is the code of the ixchel, Lady,' sniffed Felthrup. 'You kill them whenever you find them, so they try to kill you before you can reveal their presence. Rats would do the same, if they could. Master Mugstur plans to try.'
'We will speak of Mugstur later,' said Ramachni. 'But you should thank him when next you cross paths: it was the noise of his assault that led me back to you-just in time, as it proved. But speak! Who is this evil man you told your brethren of?'
Then Felthrup told them of the falcon's boasts: about the Shaggat Ness, and the hidden gold, and the Emperor's plan to drive the Mzithrinis to war.
'The Shaggat Ness!' whispered Thasha, paling. 'I read about him in the Polylex! It was strange-the book fell open to that page when I first looked at it, as if someone had left it open there a long time. What a monster! He became one of the Five Kings by stabbing his own uncle, and strangling his cousin. The other Kings were terrified of what he'd do next. He was completely mad, Ramachni. He declared himself a God!'
'And like a God, he will seem to conquer death,' said Ramachni, shaking his head. 'Ingenious.'
'It all hinges on your wedding, m'lady,' said Felthrup. 'The prophecy of the Shaggat's return demands a union between one of their princes and a daughter of an enemy soldier.'
Thasha turned away from them. She felt a sudden, physical ache at Pazel's absence. This still-unfolding horror felt infinitely harder to bear, now that he was gone. She had fought for his pardon every way she could think of. But something had come over her father, something vicious and unyielding: the same ruthlessness that had made him send her to the Lorg. Only this time Pazel had been the victim, not her. She felt an urge to weep, and with a great effort turned the feeling back into rage.
Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut?
'Pazel was right, then,' she said when she could speak again. 'They do want a war. But this time Arqual will sit back and watch as the Mzithrinis kill each other.'
'That is exactly the plan Niriviel boasts of,' said Felthrup.
'But Ramachni,' said Thasha. 'If the Shaggat wasn't killed at the end of the last war, maybe his sorcerer wasn't either! What if the sorcerer on this ship really is the one you feared?'
'Arunis himself?' said the mage. 'If that is so, then we face a worse peril than even I have dared imagine. But Dr. Chadfallow told me that Arunis was hanged, forty years ago.'
'Hanged?' said Thasha. 'Not drowned, like the Shaggat was supposed to be?'
'Hanged. Chadfallow was a young medical cadet, and present at the execution. You do not trust him, Thasha, and I will not advise you to ignore your suspicions. But it is difficult to lie to a mage, especially if that mage is Ramachni son of Ramadrac, Summoner of Dafvni, Ward of the Selk. Chadfallow knows better than to try.'
'Well, it's not hard to lie to the rest of us,' said Thasha. 'These horrid people, these conspirators: who are they, besides Rose?'
'Loyal subjects of the crown,' said Felthrup. 'Drellarek the Throatcutter, for one. And Uskins and Swellows, Rose's top men. And Lady Oggosk, his seer.'
'But none of these is the mastermind,' said Ramachni, thoughtfully. 'Nor, I think, is Rose himself. Your Emperor has often found him useful, but never trustworthy. No, there must be another conspirator in our midst-to say nothing of the sorcerer.'
'And if all the ship's officers are involved?' asked Thasha.
'One at least is not,' said Ramachni. 'Mr. Fiffengurt is pure of heart. Too pure, maybe, to see the wickedness around him.'
'Pazel liked him, too,' said Thasha. 'And, come to think of it, Firecracker Frix seems too simple to be bad.'
'Do not trust appearances,' said Ramachni. 'Some conspirators have fair looks indeed.'
'Syrarys!' said Thasha. 'She's part of it, isn't she?'
'If she is, you will not easily find her out,' said Ramachni gravely. 'Remember that she has your father's heart in her hand. And perhaps more than his heart: he is very ill, and might not survive the shock if she has indeed betrayed him.'
'Unless he's ill because she's betraying him,' said Thasha, clenching her fists.
'Such villains!' Felthrup squeaked. 'They've prepared for years-and we have just days! How can we possibly fight them?'
'Not with swords,' said Ramachni. 'At least not unless Hercуl is returned to us.'
'With tactics, then,' said Thasha.
Rat, mink and mastiffs looked at her.
'You called it a conspiracy,' she said. 'Well, we're going to prepare a little conspiracy of our own.' She rose and began to pace, frowning with concentration. 'They're secretive. We'll be doubly so. They have hidden allies. We'll find our own. The ixchel, to start with.'
'The ixchel look at humans and see murderers, m'lady,' said Felthrup. 'And they shall see the same in me after what happened in the tailor's nook.'
'Such lack of trust,' said Ramachni, 'is more dangerous than all our enemies combined.'
'Maybe the ixchel will trust us when we tell them about Rose's prisoner. Meanwhile, who else can we enlist?'
'Someone your own age, perhaps?' asked Felthrup. 'That young niece of the Chathrand's owner?'
'Pacu Lapadolma? Not likely! She's a fool, and mad for the glory of Arqual like her father the general. And she talks too much.'
'Other passengers?' the rat persisted. 'The soap man, the one who saved Hercуl?'
Thasha shook her head. 'He's a bit strange, that Mr. Ket. I thought he was a fool at first, but now I wonder if
