no such thing. I will waste no more time on you. Guard!'
'Wait,' Thorn said. She heard an ogre moving behind her. 'Toli-'
'Take his hands.' Sheshka walked around the table. As she moved closer, Thorn could see that the queen was wearing a headband beneath her serpent mane; copper and silver disks glittered in the torchlight as she approached. 'If he strikes at me again, I will snap off his arm and feed it to Szaj.'
Beren said nothing; he merely glowered at the medusa. Thorn took hold of Toli's wrists. Then Sheshka bent alongside the petrified man. Her lips brushed the surface of his neck for a moment, then she stepped back. Her serpents hissed and the basilisk trotted to stand at her side.
Nothing happened, and Thorn wondered if this was all a game; she felt a fool clutching the arms of a statue. Then the stone grew warm beneath her touch, softened, and color flowed across the dark stone like the sunrise against a deep night. The instant his consciousness returned, Toli threw his strength against Thorn, struggling to break free of her grip. His lips drew back in a snarl, and it was all she could do to contain him.
'Toli!' she cried. His eyes were wild, and he gave no sign that he had heard her. She couldn't risk releasing his sword hand, but she let go of his other hand and slapped him across the cheek. 'Toli!'
'Stop.' Beren's voice was firm and steady, and it brought Toli back to himself. His breath came in deep, ragged gasps, and his eyes darted wildly about the room. 'We are leaving. Sheathe your weapon.'
Toli shook with rage when he caught sight of Sheshka, and his head darted to the side. Her eyes were closed, but the bodyguard wasn't taking any chance. He managed to slow his breathing, and Thorn released his sword. He turned to Beren, who nodded, and Toli slowly sheathed his sword.
'Take us away from here,' Beren told the ogre. 'Our business is done.'
Thorn took one glance back at Sheshka, preparing to turn away at even the hint of an open eye. The medusa watched them, eyes closed, idly stroking the head of her basilisk. She was a cold one, and Thorn couldn't tell if Sheshka was disappointed in this outcome, or if it was what she had anticipated all along.
Well, at least one thing came of this, she thought as they returned to the hall. I know she can restore her victims. Now I just need to find the right one…
Beren's mood grew darker as the day wore on. In the final meeting of the day, Drul Kantar opened the floor to demands, hearing what the envoys of the east expected in exchange for alliance. Many of the delegates had conditions or concerns. Minister Luala wanted assurances of full religious freedoms for the people of Droaam, including a pledge to erect a shrine to the Silver Flame in the Great Crag itself. Lord Tharsul of Karrnath wanted to know which ruler the Daughters believed held the greatest right to the throne of Galifar. Kantar laughed off both of these, telling Luala that religious freedom was why there wasn't a Temple of the Flame in Droaam, and that the Daughters weren't asking for an alliance with Galifar; they sought a place among the Thronehold nations.
Beren ir' Wynarn said nothing. Thorn was certain that he'd been sent with a list of demands; Breland was Droaam's closest neighbor, and Beren's story of Sora Maenya was just a taste of the Brelish blood that had been spilled over the years. Yet he maintained a grim silence.
After the session, he opened up slightly. 'I apologize for my behavior, Nyri. I… I'm not feeling well. I barely slept last night, and I don't think the food here suits me.'
'Should we find a healer?' The thought of Fharg examining Beren brought a faint smile to her lips in spite of her concern. Surely the Daughters would be prepared to care for the needs of their guests-all the more so given the dangers of the region.
'I can examine him,' Toli said. He might not be an adept of House Jorasco, but Thorn had seen Toli's talents when he bound his own wound in the Duurwood.
'Then I think we'd best retire,' Beren said. 'I'm trusting you to represent Breland at dinner, Thorn. This is a time for charm, and I don't have that in me.'
The evening meal was interminable. The medusa Sheshka was notably absent, and Thorn yearned to set her mission in motion, to match wits with the medusa queen. But Beren's orders were equally important. She might be a Lantern, but she was also an agent of Breland-and at the moment, her country needed her charisma as well as her blade. And so she laughed with the gnomes over the soup, discussed the aerial races of Sharn with the ambassador from the Mror Holds while enjoying a course of braised boar, and heard about the troubles with the Q'barran lizardfolk while considering the dessert.
Sora Katra chose not to make an appearance that evening, and Drul Kantar was the master of ceremonies. He moved from table to table, talking with envoys about the issues raised at the final debate. The oni paused at Thorn's table, where she was talking with the Q'barrans. 'Is Lord Beren in need of assistance?' he asked.
'He slept poorly last night,' Thorn said. 'All he needs is rest.'
'Good advice.' Drul smiled, revealing his tusks and pointed teeth. He was still wearing his robe of stars and necklace of moons, and the crystal spheres seemed to pull in the light. 'I fear the people of the east have no stomach for the ale of Droaam. Perhaps we went too far with last night's festivities.'
It was as good an explanation as any, for Beren wasn't alone in his absence; a number of delegates and their guards were missing from the hall. Drul chuckled, and there was something about his tone that bothered Thorn.
'What's funny?'
'Tonight is a special night for the people of Droaam, Lady Tam. The Midnight Dawn.'
Right-the convergence of the moons. Hence, the necklace. 'And?'
'The celebration on the streets of the Crag this evening will outshine last night's gathering as a full moon does the new moon. I was simply imagining how you easterners might take to the celebration of the Midnight Dawn, if you couldn't even stomach our welcome.' He placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled again. 'Please, Lady Tam, I meant no disrespect. I hope that we will someday share a meal in the palace at Wroat. Then you can show me how the Brelish enjoy themselves.'
'Let us hope so, Drul Kantar. And with that in mind, I think it's time for me to take my leave,' Thorn said, rising from the table. She smiled at the Q'barran delegation and curtsied to the oni. 'Good night to you all.'
Drul Kantar assigned a guardian ogre to escort her back to the Brelish dormitories. Walking alone through the corridors with the massive brute brought back unpleasant memories of the previous night, but this creature was peaceful enough; he was simply slow and ponderous, perhaps frustrated that he should be shepherding a little half-elf when he could be dancing beneath the moons. Thorn had to restrain the urge to run ahead of him, but eventually she was back in her chamber and alone.
'Sunset?' she said, drawing Steel.
You are not being observed through magical means.
A smile spread across Thorn's face. 'Then let's prepare for our audience with the queen.'
CHAPTER TWENTY — TWO
The Great Crag Droaam Eyre 19, 998 YK
Thorn spread her tools out on the bed. If everything went as planned, she'd be leaving the Great Crag tonight in the company of Harryn Stormblade. She had to take everything she'd need with her, but she wanted to leave enough behind for her disappearance to seem truly mysterious. As they'd been warned many times, the Great Crag was a dangerous place. Thorn wanted her hosts to believe that she'd wandered off the path and fallen prey to one of the lurking threats. So she was leaving behind a locket with images of someone's family, and a diary chronicling recent events in the life of a young diplomat named Nyrielle Tam.
Thorn considered the equipment laid out before her. She was wearing the black and gray uniform of the hunter that she'd stolen the night before. She studied her hands. Her bracers were fully extended, the interlocking plates of blackened mithral unfolded to cover her forearms. Ghyrryn's axe was hidden within her right glove, and the mystical book was in her left. Thorn still wasn't sure what she'd need it for, but until she found Harryn, she couldn't leave it behind.
She wound a coil of lightweight silk rope around her waist. She expected to leave through the latrines, and in all the stories she'd heard of Harryn Stormblade, none had involved descending down sewers; she guessed that he'd need all the help she could provide. Next she fastened her dark cloak over her doublet, brushing her hand across the
