“Nothing,” Linsha admitted. “Something. I don’t know. Maybe I am just turning into a nervous old woman. For some days I’ve had this odd feeling that something is wrong. I feel as if someone is watching me. I see enemies in the marketplace. I hear rumors of disaster. I see shadows everywhere. Am I imagining things?” She didn’t want to ask, “Am I going crazy?”
Varia tilted her head in a thoughtful way. “This is a city out on a limb. Iyesta works very hard to keep Mirage safe, but any day another dragon could sweep over and chop that limb off. That is not fancy.”
“I know,” Linsha murmured. She thought of the centaurs and the tension on their faces, their longer patrols, and the array of weapons they carried. Perhaps their increased activity was nothing more than the orders of a new leader faying to prove his vigilance. Maybe the man in the marketplace had not been a spy but a mere brigand or sellsword checking out the territory. Maybe these feelings of gloom were nothing more than homesickness or loneliness or a growing irritability with the whole situation. After all, she
Linsha felt her thoughts begin to run in circles. She could “maybe” herself to death and still go nowhere. She either had to find some solid evidence to back up her imaginings or she should relax and let things be as they were.
Not tonight though. She had wasted enough time and angered Sir Remmik enough for one day. With care and some reluctance, she lifted the owl to a perch she had installed close to the open window. Varia fluffed her feathers once then settled down for a nap before her evening hunt.
“I am summoned to Iyesta’s lair tomorrow. Do you want to come?” Linsha asked as she moved toward the door. When Varia gave her a sleepy yes, Linsha added, “Meet me in the stable then, at sunrise.”
A tired hoot was the only reply.
Linsha spent the rest of the night in the Solamnic headquarters in the keep. The room was spacious enough for several desks, rows of shelves, and a large fireplace. It was comfortable enough even in the winter, well protected by stone walls, and centrally located so the officer of the watch could supervise the changing of the guards and be available for any emergency, late night advice, or minor disasters.
During the long, quiet hours before dawn Linsha read several reports left for her by three of her contacts.
As an erstwhile member of a clandestine circle, Linsha had learned how to make contacts, find snitches, and gather information not readily available to a circle of armed Knights. She knew the beggars who would watch the docks for a few coins, the fearless boys who would follow a suspect through the busy streets, the courtesan who sold her favors to the captain of the City Watch, the maid of the city’s busy mayor, the stable lads in the militia’s stables, and more importantly, those Legionnaires who were friendly to the Solamnic Knights. With charm, friendliness, a sincere interest, and a knack for finding just the right price, Linsha had set up a network of information gatherers in and around the Missing City that rivaled Iyesta’s in its efficiency.
It was mostly because of this network that Linsha began to see little things that did not make sense. A patrol of Iyesta’s militia was massacred, and no one could find out who was responsible. Another esteemed elder in the city council had disappeared, leaving his family behind. What did that make now? Two elders and a merchant who had disappeared lately without a trace. Then there was a shipment of iron bars ordered by one of the local blacksmiths that was stolen. Strangers were seen prowling around the streets for no obvious reason and then mysteriously vanishing. Did any of these things tie in together?
Most alarming of all, to Linsha’s mind, was the silence emanating from Thunder’s neighboring realm.
Stenndunuus, or Thunder, was aptly named. Loud, clashing, and brash, Thunder was one of the most malevolent of the minor dragonlords. He coveted Iyesta’s grasslands and fertile river valleys, but he was too wary of the aggressive brass to challenge her face to face. Instead, he constantly threatened and plotted and voiced his hatred for her at every opportunity. Lately though, he had been very quiet, and very little news had leaked out of his realm. Linsha wondered if the big blue was up to anything, or if he was just laying low to keep out of the attention of
At least there was one dragon neighbor who seemed to be complacent for now. Since the end of the Dragon Purge a few years ago, black Sable had spent more and more of her time in her lair in Shrentak where she indulged in her passion for experimentation and the study of parasitic beings. Her gruesome and revolting creatures had grown so numerous of late that no one in Iyesta’s realm ate anything brought out of Sable’s loathsome swamp or went anywhere near it. Although Sable was still a threat to Iyesta’s territory, Linsha did not believe Sable was planning anything more complicated than her next meal or another addition to her foul zoo.
A slight smile came to Linsha’s face at the memory of one creature she had seen delivered to the great black. During her brief duty as a bodyguard to Lord Governor Bight in Sanction, she had accompanied the governor through secret tunnels and passages under the mountains to trade a particularly nasty creature called a cuthril slug to Sable for information. She remembered her incredulity at the exchange and Lord Bight’s secret smile. She remembered, too, trying to explain this trade to the Solamnic Council. Few people could understand why Hogan Bight would make the effort to leave his city to take Sable a slug. Why did he do it? Why did Sable leave him alive?
It wasn’t until Linsha came to the Missing City and became friendly with Iyesta that she understood better the reasons behind Lord Bight’s occasional meetings with Sable. By luring her into face-to-face contact, Lord Bight was able to gather information from the dragon and spread his own news and gossip that kept her distracted and wary and too uncertain to move either north toward his domain or south toward Iyesta’s. From her place in the Plains of Dust, Iyesta did the same thing. Using lies, rumors, the occasional mention of Malys’s name, and a show of her own force, Iyesta had kept Sable away from the Plains for years and made her too wary of exposing her backside if she turned and attacked Sanction. A few herds of cattle sent periodically to Shrentak helped sweeten the precarious stalemate.
If only, Linsha thought for the countless time, there could be someone on the western side of Thunder to help keep him in line. Unfortunately, there was only Beryl, and she was too vicious and untrustworthy to pin any hopes on her. If she weren’t so busy plotting against the elves in Qualinesti, she probably would have looked to her east and tried something devious against Thunder already.
Linsha threw the reports on her desk and sighed. The political and draconic connections across Krynn were endless, mind-boggling, and tangled like a hag’s knitting. Even the wise could not sort them all out. If someone was plotting against Iyesta, or the Knights of Solamnia, or the Legion, or the city, or anyone for that matter, Linsha could not see yet who it was. She was too weary and too morose to think clearly this early morning.
Tired of her own thoughts, Linsha climbed the steps to the high wall and watched the sun rise beyond the red hills. People born before the Chaos War thirty-eight years ago told her the sun had changed when the gods departed and the war ended. It was strange, smaller and paler than before. Yet it was the only sun she had ever known. It seemed adequate enough to her. After all, what could you do about a burning sun far beyond your grasp? Complaining didn’t change anything. Even the mages in the height of their power could not change the sun. There were just some things you had to accept.
An image of her father came into her mind as he had been the last time she saw him. He had made a special journey to Sancrist to visit her in the Solamnic prison. Palin had been strong then, still filled with his magic, and his presence had been a blessing to her. He had listened quietly to her tale of Sanction-and she had told him almost everything-and when she finished he hugged her close and approved of her decisions.
She’d heard since then that life had not fared well for him. Last year she received a message from her brother, Ulin, that their father had been captured by the Dark Knights. She wanted to go home then, but by the time she arranged for an emergency leave and transportation she received another note telling her he was alive and home again. The last word she had from Solace told her of her grandmother’s death. She wondered how her father was faring. Where was he? How was he adjusting to these changes in his life when there were no gods to pray to? He had always told her that he truly believed the gods would return some day. What would he tell her now?
She watched the cool gold light of day swell and fill the sky, sweeping like a tide over the city, bringing it to life. The faded gray and black of night passed into brilliant colors-the blue of the bay, the red of the hills, and the green of the fields and meadows. Traffic began to fill the streets of Mirage, and at the gate of the Citadel, a silver horn blared a greeting to the new day. Around her, the banners of the Knights of Solamnia filled and fluttered from the battlements in the new breeze. It would be another warm day, a delightful day to a city accustomed to cold
