for a moment. 'She must be dead by sunset.'
Alvarro blinked, thinking hard. The thought of Erix, alone and in his power, was like a powerful drug. Still, he wasn't an innocent recruit. Cordell had ordered the woman held prisoner. He regarded the elfmage suspiciously.
'What about the general?'
'I will see that he never knows who is to blame,' Darien replied confidently.
It just might work, Alvarro told himself. He remembered Erix on the ground at Palul. His mind flamed at the prospect of holding her in his power.
'Why are you so anxious to have her dead?' he demanded.
Darien leaned back, her dress clinging seductively to her skin. 'She makes me furious. She stands against my magic, she draws the eyes of men — Cordell's eyes,' the albino replied. Her voice was like an icy wind. Alvarro thought briefly that the wizard didn't look furious, but then he thought again of Erix, and suddenly the wizard's motive didnt seem to matter.
The black-robed figure awaited Hoxitl in the darkened confines of the temple building below the Great Pyramid. 'Greetings, priest,' whispered the Ancient One.
The patriarch froze, wondering instinctively if this was an assassin sent to end his days. But the graceful figure advanced, speaking soothingly. 'The death of Naltecona will occur tonight, after moonrise,' said the Ancient One.
Hoxitl froze, taut with excitement and alarm. He thought of Erixitl, and of Shatil seeking her in the passages below the sacred plaza. Could he find her in time?
'My priest is seeking the girl, Erixitl of Palul, now. He will kill her as soon as he sees her!' Hoxitl blurted the explanation, fearing for his life again. Perhaps the Ancient One had assumed that she was already dead.
'That is fine.' The words came from the robed figure dispassionately. The high priest stared in puzzlement, wondering why he didn't detect the heated insistence on Erix's death that had always been the tone of the Ancient Ones previously.
'But — but what if he doesn't find her? Did you not say that disaster would result if the attack began while she stili lived?'
Finally the voice grew harsh. 'Do not concern yourself, priest. How fares the cult? Will it be ready?'
'Come with me and see for yourself,' Hoxitl invited. 'I go to address them from the pyramid.'
'Answer my question!' hissed the Ancient One. He faced away from the afternoon light spilling through the doorway. Hoxitl remembered other things, of the robed figures searching the city at night, of their subterranean lair. He guessed that, whatever the nature of Ancient Ones, they couldn't bear the light of the sun.
'Very well. The cult gathers within the sacred plaza. We number twenty-five thousand brands now,' the patriarch said proudly. 'At the sign, we will fall upon the legions of Kultaka and the Payit gathered outside the palace. When their allies have been slain, we attack the strangers themselves. We will be ready tonight.'
'Splendid. Do you have sufficient numbers for the task?'
'The rest of the Nexalan army will certainly join our attack,' Hoxitl said confidently. He knew that the Jaguar and Eagle Knights chafed at the truce and were eager to fight. They would be incapable of holding themselves aloof once the fighting erupted. 'All they require is an initial spark, and the cult of the Viperhand is the spark that will kindle the blaze. Within a few hours, a hundred thousandmen or more will attack.
'And the blaze of their anger will drive the invaders from the True World!'
The Ancient One nodded, apparently pleased. Then, with a suddenness that stunned the high priest, the dark figure disappeared.
For long hours, Halloran and Poshtli probed through the darkened confines of the tunnels below the palaces and the sacred plaza. They found corners and niches, connecting passages and dead ends. Working their way around the corridor that had led to their ambush, they investigated every feature that they could find.
Several ladders ascended shafts that led to the sacred plaza itself, rather than the palaces. They could plainly hear the talking or moving about of warriors overhead, and they knew that just beyond the flagstone cap to the shaft, they could find legions of Kultakans or Nexalans.
But they couldn't find another passage that would lead them toward Erixitl.
Halloran's light spell illuminated their path for a while, but finally the power of the spell waned. Then they made do with the dim illumination cast by Helmstooth. The glow of the magic sword did little more than prevent them from tripping over obstacles and walking into walls.
Finally they collapsed, out of breath, discouraged, and apparently lost. Halloran tried to avoid thinking about Erixitl, but with every moment of rest, a new image of her, alone among the likes of Alvarro, Darien, Bishou Domincus, and Cordell himself, formed in his mind. Who knew how enraged the commander might become at one of his former captains, who now attacked in the night and slayed his men?
Wonderingly, Hal thought of the tiny rings of plumage that had given him such powers. They felt soft and comfortable now, exerting no apparent effect on his body. Only when he pressed his own strength to the limit, it seemed, did the pluma affect him.
Suddenly they heard a sound, a shuffling of footsteps in the distance. 'Look,' Hal whispered, discerning the flickering glow of torchlight emerging from a side corridor.
He put his sword behind him to mask its light, noticing that the torch and its bearer came closer. Orange light suddenly flared before them as a man emerged from the side corridor, unaware of their presence.
'Who are you?' challenged Poshtli. They recognized the man as a bloody-scalped priest of Zaltec. The thin figure had a stone dagger. His arms and legs, dirty and scarred, seemed to be mere skin covering the bones of his limbs.
'The priest stopped and turned toward them, surprised but apparently not frightened. 'I seek my sister. I fear she is lost in here.'
'Are you mad?' demanded Poshtli.
'What's her name — your sister?' Halloran added.
'She is Erixitl of Palul.'
'And you are Shatil, then.' The young man nodded at Hal's statement. Erix had told Hal much of her brother, whom she had given up for dead atop the pyramid at Palul. The altar and statue had burned with such a conflagration that the identification of bodies had been impossible.
'Where is she?' asked Shatil suddenly. 'Is she in danger?'
Halloran studied the priest. Everything about the man brought back memories of Marline's sacrifice and all the other rites of the brutal worship of Zaltec, routines of murder. He couldn't entirely suppress the revulsion he felt for everything this man stood for.
Yet Erix had spoken of Shatil kindly, and Halloran knew she had truly loved her brother. The man must certainly reciprocate the feeling.
'Yes, she is,' he replied finally. 'We're trying to rescue her. She's been taken by the legion.'
Shatil's face twisted with a look of genuine shock and dismay.
'What are you doing down here?' Poshtli demanded. 'Why do you seek her?'
Shatil's eyes met the warrior's squarely. Their dark eyes flashed in the torchlight. 'Because I feared for her. Because Zaltec has warned me that she is in danger and told me where to look, that I could help her!' The priest held his voice level but urgent.
'Please, let me help you!' he urged. All the while, the Talon of Zaltec lay smooth and deadly in his hand.
'You must believe me! The danger is terrible, and it is tonight!' Erixitl stared into the black eyes of the man before her and he, not unsympathetically, looked back.
'But because you've had a dream?' Cordell replied, exhaling sharply in frustration. Some vague feeling made him want to trust this woman, yet all his years of caution warned him against such madness.
'Under the full moon,' Erixitl explained again. 'Naltecona will be slain by one who is of your legion. And when he dies, the True World dies soon afterward.'
She and the captain-general had waged this discussion for nearly an hour. He stalked about the room where
