the point of Colo's sword.
The Iron Guard was frantically trying to pull out his other knife when Kit swung the tracker's sword and smacked him in the head with its hilt. The blow knocked the guard off balance and caused him to drop his second knife.
Kit jumped up and stumbled backward. She managed to steady herself as the Iron Guard rose to his feet. Now she was the one with a sword, and he was weaponless.
Her opponent glided backward toward a wall. Kit wrapped both hands around the sword's hilt, lowered her head slightly, and charged, thrusting upward at his helmet. Her aim was good. The sword ran through his mouth slit. The guard was effectively pinned against the wall, groaning and twitching.
Kit felt spent; her clothes were torn, nicks and bruises covered her body. It took all the effort she could muster to pull out her sword. The Iron Guard slid to the ground.
Kitiara turned toward Luz Mantilla. She had returned to her chair in the center of the room, encircled by the cone of pale light.
Kit picked up her own sword and approached her warily, scanning the room for other enemies or magical devices. The Lady observed her with a smirk.
'Pity about your friend,' oozed Lady Mantilla. 'Colo? Was that her name?'
The Lady made a subtle hand gesture that, if she had not known about such things from Raistlin, Kit might not even have noticed.
Kitiara had come within a few feet of the Lady, but now found herself unable to get any closer. Some sort of force field, something like an invisible wall, stopped her. Stooping, Kit felt around with her hands to try and determine where the barrier started and ended.
'I lost a friend once,' said Lady Mantilla in her baritone. 'The only dear friend I ever had. The only person I ever loved, who ever loved me. Now you know how it feels, Kitiara Uth Matar.'
Kit realized, with a shiver of apprehension, that the force field did not protect Lady Mantilla. It was surrounding her. Kit could move only a few feet forward or backward or sideways. The wall rose so high over her that she could not feel its top. She was caught like a spider in a jar.
Looking at Luz Mantilla, Kitiara noted that the Lady's eerie gaze rested on the sword in Kit's hands. Where the sword moved, Lady Mantilla's eyes followed.
'My beautiful sword,' said Lady Mantilla in a low moan, stroking her white, tangled hair abstractly. 'My precious gift of love. I should like to have it back. I should like to have it as a… memento.'
'You will get it back, witch,' murmured Kitiara, 'right through your heart.'
'What did I ever do to you, Kitiara Uth Matar?' the Lady crooned mournfully, her eyes following the sword as Kit shifted it from one hand to the other. 'What did I ever do to you that you would help kill my beloved?'
Kit said nothing.
'I don't understand you,' said Lady Mantilla. 'Now that I know your name, I am even more mystified by your behavior. By your allegiances.'
Kit stared at her. 'What do you mean?'
'Your name-Matar. Your father was Gregor Uth Matar?
'What do you know about my father?' asked Kit, her confident tone wavering.
'I told you I gathered a long file on Ursa,' said Lady Mantilla, almost petulantly. 'I told you I found out all about him-where he had been, what he had done, how he operated.'
'What are you saying?'
'What am I saying?' repeated Lady Mantilla. 'I mean to say, how can you be in league with the turncoat who betrayed your own father?'
'What!'
Lady Mantilla's eyes revealed complete astonishment. 'You don't know,' she murmured. 'You really don't know…'
'What trick is this?' Kit took an angry step toward the lady. Futile. The invisible barrier stopped her.
Lady Mantilla tilted her head back and gave a long, high-pitched shriek of laughter. 'It was in Whitsett, far to the north, four years ago. Ursa was part of a force of mercenaries that fought a climactic battle under the leadership of your father. Gregor's men were successful, and when the contest was over it was Gregor who set the terms of surrender. Surrounded by his loyal entourage, he waited in an open field as the other army rode in to relinquish its arms.
'What your father didn't know was that among his own men there was a faction that thought he did not fairly divide the spoils of his victories, who thought that he was growing rich at their expense. Among them was a man, a first lieutenant who until then had ridden faithfully at Gregor's side. He organized the faction in a secret conclave. They pledged to betray Gregor. This group, under the leadership of Ursa Il Kinth, helped to fake the victory and conspired to arrest Gregor at the peace council.'
'Liar!' Kit shouted, but the accusation was half-hearted. The tale Luz told was very similar to the one that Captain La Cava had told Kit aboard the
'No,' cooed Lady Mantilla, reading her thoughts, 'not a lie. Too terrible a truth to be a lie, don't you think? Ursa's men surrounded your father, bound him in leather straps, and delivered him to the other side. Ursa took twice the purse your father had agreed to, apportioned it among the conspirators, and then they split up. Your father was led in chains to the dungeon to await his beheading. What a coincidence that his daughter would turn out to be partnered with his traitor!'
Again Lady Mantilla tilted her head back and let go with screeching laughter. The cackling went on for several minutes before, strangely, it disintegrated into choked sobs.
Kit's head reeled. She clenched her fists and buried her face in them. As she turned away from the lady, a tremor went through her body. She dropped Beck's sword.
A rustling made her look up. Lady Mantilla, her face changed, her composure almost placid, had stood. She was pointing toward the door behind the tapestry where Colo had entered.
There was a moment of silence.
Kitiara made a quick movement and kicked Beck's sword, which lay at her feet, over to her captor. Lady Mantilla stooped to clutch it fervently. As she did. Kit heard a sibilance-the release of the force field. She dashed toward the tapestry door.
Behind her, Lady Mantilla, a strangely serene smile on her face, sat down again, fondling the sword of her beloved.
Kit bounded down the steps, only to come face to face with Ursa, who was squatting at the far end of his cell. The mercenary leaped up excitedly and grabbed the first row of bars.
'Kit! Where's Colo? Can you get me out of here?'
For a minute, she couldn't say anything, just stared at Ursa, remembering when she had first met him, entirely by chance, and how, in unexpected ways, he had marked her life. He looked more dead then alive now; so did she, probably. Yet his eyes gleamed at her. Through it all, he'd kept that likeable, roguish aspect.
In other circumstances she would have been drawn to him, far more than to El-Navar. Yet she knew what Lady Mantilla told her was true, and at this moment she hated Ursa with all her heart.
'What's the matter?' he asked when she did not respond immediately. 'Did something go wrong?'
Kit leaned her back against one wall, and slid to the ground, exhausted. 'Colo is dead,' she said simply.
'Dead!' He seemed genuinely shaken. 'First Radisson, then El-Navar, Cleverdon, too, I suppose. Now Colo…'
'El-Navar isn't dead,' she said in a flat tone.
'No?'
'I've seen him. He's in another of these tunnels, changed into a panther. He didn't recognize me. Lady Mantilla said she tried to kill him but couldn't.'
'You've seen her then! You've bested her.' That old grin of his.
'No,' Kit said dully. 'She bested me.'
'But,' said Ursa, bewildered. 'You're still alive. How-?'
She stood up. 'I gave her Beck's sword. That's all she really wanted-the sword that you took from Sir
