An elegant iron gate guarded the entrance, a dozen yards from the end of the garden wall. To Manner’s surprise it wasn’t locked; it swung open at his touch, silently, without the slightest creak or rattle. Hanner stepped through into the dooryard to find Rudhira standing by the door, tapping her foot impatiently.

“I could have opened this myself,” she said.

“Without breaking it?” Hanner asked, curious about just what warlockry could and couldn’t do.

“Ithink so-but I’m not sure, and you’ve got the key, so I waited.”

“Thank you,” Hanner said. Then it registered that no one was opening the door, and he turned. Alris was standing just behind him, the key in her hand, watching Rudhira warily and not approaching the door.

“I’ll do it, Alris,” he said, taking the key from her. He found the lock, and a moment later the door swung open.

The hallway beyond was dark, of course. Hanner stepped in and beckoned to the others, then stood still for a moment to let his eyes adjust.

A red glow appeared to one side, dimly illuminating the hall. Hanner turned, startled, and found Rudhira standing beside him, one hand raised-and that hand was glowing.

By that dull red light Hanner could see a look of intense concentration on Rudhira’s face. Her lips parted to reveal tightly clenched teeth as she grimaced and sucked in air.

The glow brightened from red to orange-and then brightened further, but stayed orange. Rudhira let out her breath in a long, ragged sigh and relaxed; the glow steadied.

Hanner quickly turned his attention to their surroundings and spotted a candle on a table by the door. “Does anyone have tinder?” he asked, pointing. “We don’t want to wear Rudhira out.”

Rudhira followed his finger and saw the candle. “I might be able to light it,” she said, starting to lower her glowing hand.

“No, don’t strain yourself,” Hanner said. Alris was already pulling a tinderbox from her purse, and a moment later the candle flared to life.

“You can relax now,” Hanner told Rudhira, nodding at her still-glowing hand as he picked up the candle. “It’s no trouble,” she said, but the glow blinked out.

“It looked like an effort,” Hanner said.

“Only at first, when I tried to see how to do it,” Rudhira said. “Once I started, it got easier. That’s how this magic always seems to work-the more you use it, the easier it is. The hard part is in understanding how to do something new.”

“You seem to be doing well at that,” Hanner said. “I haven’t seen anyone else make anything glow. Mostly they just seem to throw things around.” As he spoke he was looking around at the broad hallway.

As he would have expected from Uncle Faran, it was magnificent, but tasteful. It was perhaps fifteen feet across, with a twelve-foot ceiling, and he couldn’t see the far end by the single candle’s light. The walls were papered in gold and white above polished dark wood wainscoting, broken by ornately modeled plaster and gilt pilasters. Gleaming brass sconces were spaced evenly between the columns, except where arched doorways opened into other rooms. A splendid staircase, dark wood carpeted in red, rose ahead of Hanner and his party. To the left an archway opened into a darkened parlor; to the right was a closed door, painted white and trimmed with gilt.

“May a hundred gods bless me,” Zarek muttered as he looked at this opulence.

“Well, it’s a roof over our heads,” Hanner said wryly. He turned and beckoned everyone inside-some were still hesitating on the front walk. “Come in, all of you!” he said.

He counted off the party. Rudhira and Alris had come in with him; Zarek and Yorn were close behind. He still hadn’t learned the names of all the others, but he counted the four prisoners and the other twelve warlocks, and once they were all inside he stepped past them all to take a final look outside-he didn’t think he had missed anyone, but he wanted to be sure.

An elderly man was walking slowly past and glanced at him, but said nothing. Other than that the street was empty; satisfied, Hanner closed and locked the door.

As he did, he finally noticed the bell pull hanging just inside the door, a few inches from where the candle had been waiting.

“Oh, for...” he began. Then he bit the oath off short and tugged at the cord.

Somewhere he heard a distant tinkle.

It was possible that there were no servants in residence at present, but it seemed unlikely-the place was obviously clean and well maintained, and Uncle Faran would probably want to be able to drop in at any time, without notice, with his latest conquest on his arm, and be properly attended.

That done, Hanner turned to face the crowd gathered in the hallway. Some of them were barely visible by the lone candle’s light, but Hanner was sure they were all there. He cleared his throat, and every face turned toward him.

“All right,” Hanner said, “I don’t know whether anyone will answer that bell, but if someone does, he or she will know better than I what sleeping accommodations are available here. I, on the other hand, feel qualified to explain a few things that you ought to know before you agree to stay here. This is my uncle’s house — my uncle Faran’s. Yes, that’s the same Lord Faran who is chief advisor to the overlord. Knowing my uncle as I do, I’m sure he knows the exact location and value of every item in this house. Now, most of you are honest citizens who were caught up in tonight’s madness through no fault of your own, but a few of you are... well, perhaps not entirely honest, and you’ve suddenly had magical abilities thrust upon you. Furthermore, I’m sure most of you have never before been in such luxurious surroundings and may find yourself tempted to borrow a trinket or two, or to tamper with some unfamiliar device. Don’t. I know my uncle. If you interfere with any of his possessions, if you damage or break or steal anything, you’re risking your very life. We’re trusting you all to be on your very best behavior for your stay here. Thank you.”

“But we’re warlocks,” a young man-a boy, really-said. “Don’t we... won’t that mean anything?”

“I don’t know,” Hanner said honestly. “I don’t know much of anything about it. But I do know not to fool around with my uncle’s belongings.”

Because he was standing by the door and facing down the hallway, and the others were all turned to face him, Hanner was the first to see the light that sprang up beneath the stairs. “Ah!” he said, stepping forward.

A man in fine white linen and black breeches appeared from beneath the stairs, holding a copper lamp; the hallway brightened considerably. He stopped dead and stared at the crowd in the hallway in ill-concealed astonishment.

“Hai!” Hanner said, striding through the gathered warlocks. “I’m Lord Hanner, Lord Faran’s nephew.” He held up the key to the front door. “An emergency has come up, and my uncle agreed to let me and my companions stay the night here.”

“My lord,” the man mumbled, still looking about in confusion at the unexpected throng.

“This is my sister, Lady Alris,” Hanner said as he came even with his sibling. “And your name is...?”

“Bern, my lord.”

“Bern,” Hanner said as he came up to the man and clapped him on the shoulder. “Excellent. There are twenty-one of us in all, but if there aren’t sufficient beds for so many we’ll be glad to share, or to make do with couches or carpets.”

“There are... there are ten guest rooms, my lord, and Lord Faran’s own bed.” Bern was clearly hesitant, unsure how he should deal with this horde of unanticipated guests.

They did have a key, though, Hanner thought, and a gang of thieves would hardly have so many ill-assorted members. Hanner was fairly sure Bern would accept him at his word, and was trying hard to convey an attitude of absolute certainty.

“Excellent!” Hanner smiled broadly. “Lead the way, then, and we’ll settle in. It’s late, and we don’t wish to impose on my uncle’s hospitality any more than necessary.” “Of course, my lord,” Bern said, finally recovering his aplomb. “This way.”

It took another half hour to get the entire party properly distributed, at two to a room. All the bedchambers were on the second floor-Manner was briefly puzzled and asked Bern, “Why aren’t there any beds on the third and fourth floor?”

“There may be beds there, my lord,” Bern replied, “but I am not permitted on the top two floors. Those are Lord Faran’s private rooms, and no one but he is allowed up there.”

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