The Ruby Guardian

bird and have no intention of leaving things unfinished. I'm here with you, and will remain so for as long as you need me, until we settle this.

Now. Something has happened to Marga, to the twins. I don't know what, yet, but I sense deception. Grozier is up to something, and Marga is not acting herself. Where is Xaphira?

Emriana's heart ached. I don't know, she confessed. She disappeared last night. I was attacked, nearly drowned. I tried to contact her with my pendant, once last night, once this morning, but she would not answer. She could feel anguish radiate from the presence inside her.

That is truly wretched news, Hetta said solemnly. But we have no time for that now. Xaphira's a strong girl. She'll survive without our help for the time being.

I hope so, Emriana thought.

Yes, that is all we can do for the moment. Hope. Right now, we must get away, seek help. I want you to go to the Darowdryn estate. We need their help. I have a lot to tell you along the way.

Grandmother Hetta?

What is it, child?

Did you know that Vambran and Kovrim are lost at sea?

Yes, the woman said, with a kindness and warmth that made Emriana want to cry. But do not believe it. Grozier Talricci is a snake filled with lies. Vambran and Kovrim may very well be alive. If they can, they'll get word to us.

My pendant! Emriana thought. I can reach them with my pendant!

Before Emriana had a chance to do that, however, a voice calling her name got her attention. It was Mirolyn, hurrying down the path toward the front gate. Emriana was almost to the end of the path, was almost prepared to step outside of her family home for perhaps the very last time. She turned back to the young woman, only a few years older than she.

'I have a message for you,' Mirolyn said breathlessly as she caught up to Emriana. 'My mother says to tell you that she remembers where she once heard the name 'Roundface.''

Emriana turned to face Mirolyn, her heart filling with newfound hope. 'Well?' she said, thinking that the news could be a lead to finding Xaphira. 'Where?'

Mirolyn took a deep breath and said, 'Her sister used to talk about a little boy where she worked, a youngster, the son of a courtier named Blackcrown. All the serving staff nicknamed him Roundface, because he had such chubby cheeks. 'Little Roundface,' they all used to call him. She doesn't know what the child's real first name was, but she thought that might help. Blackcrown, she said, and she was very certain.'

Emriana tried to keep from sounding exasperated when she asked, 'And where did your mother's sister work?'

'Oh, sorry,' Mirolyn said, blushing. 'It was at the Generon. She was a maid at the Lord's Palace.'

CHAPTER 14

Vambran sat peering through the bars of the cage, watching the druids at work on the rock shelf beyond. The five other soldiers imprisoned with him lounged quietly, some of them sleeping. None of them were fettered any longer, having worked together to remove the rope bonds around wrists and ankles. The hardwood saplings holding them in place within the shallow cave were another matter.

'You are a long way from home, mercenary,' the woman with the piercing green eyes said, approaching the cave and looking through the bars at Vambran. 'We do not see many of the Order of the Sapphire Crescent here.'

Vambran returned her stare curiously. 'I'm surprised that you know of our order,' he replied. 'Though we are not here by choice in any event.'

The woman raised an eyebrow. 'Truly?' she said, sounding skeptical. 'Do not all men come here to the shadows of the Nunwood to fight their fights for others? Do the idle rich of the cities not pay you to wage their wars for them out here, where the killing won't stain their precious cities with so much blood?'

Vambran began to shake his head. 'Many do, but the Crescents do not.'

'You are a soldier,' she said, 'and you fight at the direction of others. Reth or Hlath, Arrabar or more distant cities, it is always the same.'

Vambran gave the woman a level look. 'If you're so convinced that we're all alike, then why did your people bring us here, rather than simply kill us where they found us?'

'I have asked myself that question, too,' the woman said, giving Vambran a peculiar smile that was a little unnerving. 'Edilus thought perhaps that you could be ransomed for prisoners held by the enemy army. He saw the value in holding you, with your three dots.'

Vambran blinked, having nearly forgotten that he bore the three symbols of reading, writing, and magic upon his forehead. 'He thought I would be valuable to the enemy,' the lieutenant reasoned.

'Yes. I told him that we would not negotiate with the mercenaries, that the Emerald Enclave did not parlay. Those of our order who are taken are considered dead and grieved for. He was not happy with my decision.'

'Why?'

'Because his brother was among those taken,' the woman replied. 'I told him we would avenge his brother by spilling the blood of many soldiers again tonight.'

Those words were uttered with such force, such finality, that for a moment, Vambran could only stare at the woman across from him. Her intensely emerald eyes blazed with a primal fire, and he knew beyond a doubt she meant every bit of it.

Vambran was going to try, anyway. 'It doesn't have to be that way,' he said, hoping she would see his own earnestness as sincere. 'I can help you find a more peaceful solution. My soldiers and I have no quarrel with the Emerald Enclave. Indeed, we work toward similar goals. If you resign us to this cage, then a resource you have at your disposal will be wasted.'

The woman laughed, but it was a bitter laughter, without mirth. 'A resource. I would expect nothing less from a priest of the Merchant's Friend. The world simply is, it exists. 'Resource' is but a word your kind uses to measure what you wish to make your own. I do not acknowledge your notion of resources. Here, in the woods, everything belongs to all beings, and no one takes more than he needs right then, right there. I drink from the stream, yet there is still plenty of water for others, both downstream from me and those who would come later to the same spot I did to drink. The stream, the water, is not a resource; it dwells as an integral part of nature. You and your resources are laughable.'

Vambran's jaw clenched in anger and frustration. 'And you and your ilk seem so determined to belittle others' ways of life, though not all who walk a different world than yours subvert your ideals so robustly,' he said, raising his voice at the woman. She blinked and sat back ever so slightly. Vambran doubted she had been spoken to in such a manner in a very long time. 'I was born and raised in a city of merchants, and it is the life I know. To expect me to abandon all that I was groomed for because you see your way of life as superior to mine is both short-sighted and arrogant.

'I would not presume to tell you that you should leave the woods behind forever and come dwell in the city. It is not your element. You, having most likely never been to Arrabar, would not be at ease there. You would not be able to find your way from street to street. The first cart vendor you came upon would most likely rob you blind and convince you it was a bargain. But these shortcomings do not make me a better person than you. I would not see myself as superior because I better understand the life I lead than you do. Why must you view me that way? Our paths may be different, but our values are not necessarily so separated. Though I may not care and nourish the forest as the Enclave does, that does not mean I cannot appreciate the work that you do, that I cannot value your ideals.'

The woman sat and stared at Vambran for a long time. All around the great platform, no one said a thing; indeed, none of the other wood folk present were doing anything at all. They had all stopped their work at the mercenary's outburst. Vambran wondered if that was because of the passion in his words or because they were