them, he could have outrun the men easily. He should have known when she didn't answer his summons through the pawn.
Sull dodged a thrust from his opponent's broadsword. The butcher was quick enough, but the sword still whistled close to his ear, too close for the man to last much longer in the fight.
Ruen aimed his next blow at the man's sword arm, putting all the force he could behind the punch. The man's arm spasmed; his sword fell from nerveless fingers. Ruen punched again. The man went down and did not rise,
Sull threw his weight backward to avoid another sword thrust. He landed on his backside in the sand. Scooting away, he kicked sand, spraying the air and creating a meager shield between himself and the flashing sword.
Ruen came at the man with the broadsword from behind. He grabbed the man's shoulder and turned him. Locking a hand on his wrist, Ruen twisted until the bones cracked. The man's sword fell to the sand to join his friend's. Ruen jammed his elbow into the man's throat, and he fell, unconscious next to his companion.
Ruen looked briefly to see if Sull was bleeding more than necessary and, satisfied he wasn't, began disarming the unconscious men. He took a dagger from one of them and slid it into his belt. He much preferred the fish knife-it was his favorite-but the wraith had stolen that from him.
He stood up and saw a red blur charging at him. He managed to dodge the bull rush, but Sull's fist still found his cheek. One side of Ruen's head erupted in pain.
Ruen danced back, retaining the presence of mind to raise the dagger before Sull could come at him again.
But the butcher seemed uninterested in continuing the attack. Instead, Ruen saw tears leaking from the man's wild eyes.
'You damn fool!' Sull bellowed. 'You let 'em get away.'
'I saved your life,' Ruen said calmly. He tucked the dagger away and rubbed his jaw. 'She wouldn't have wanted me to let you die.'
Sull hiccupped and seemed to consider this. His eyes were still furious. 'You led us right into their trap. Do you have any idea what they'll do to her? They'll-'
Ruen shook his head. 'They want her alive. They took a lot of trouble to remove her from the battle unharmed. We can track them now.'
'How?' Sull demanded.
Ruen crouched next to the smaller of the unconscious forms. He nudged the man, but he did not stir.
'We wait for one of these to wake up,' Ruen said. Sull made a noise of displeasure, and Ruen finally looked up at the big man. 'They won't get far-look.' He nodded to the horizon, where gray, pre-dawn light was giving way to sunrise. 'They're not stupid enough to move her out of Mistshore while it's light. With the Watch patrols out, they'll be seen. We'll question these, rest and move on.'
'What if they won't tell us anythin'?' Sull asked, glancing pointedly at Ruen's fists.
Ruen shrugged. 'We'll have to be convincing.' He got to his feet. 'Help me move them inside the ship's hull. We'll be sheltered there.'
Together they hauled the bodies, the dead and the unconscious, through the torn gap in the ship. The interior smelled of must and mold. Driftwood and the tattered remains of hammocks were piled in one corner. Rats scurried out of the lumpy mounds.
Ruen sat down on a pile of rigging next to the bodies. Sull moved around the ship with an air of ripe impatience. Ruen watched the chests of the unconscious men rising and falling. He had beaten them severely. He did not know when they would regain sense, and if they would be in a fit state to answer any questions.
Sliding forward, he removed his glove and reached across the closest man's prone body. He pressed his hand against the man's open palm. He wasn't sure what drove him to do it-he always avoided touching people when he could help it-but he needed to know. He ignored Sull's curious expression.
Faint blue light outlined the cracks between his fingers. Ruen curled his hand under the man's, but he didn't think Sull could see the light. The man's hand stung with cold; it was like pressing his palm flush against a frozen lake. He'd expected some degree of chill, but not this. The feeling repulsed him. Ruen removed his hand from the unconscious man's and put his glove back on.
'What are you doin'?' Sull said.
'Checking for signs of life,' Ruen explained. He turned his attention to the other man. 'We'll need to question this one. The other won't survive. I hit him too hard.'
'I didn't see you feelin' for a life beat-'
Sull stopped. The man's eyelids had twitched. A breath later they opened, and the man let out a rough moan. He focused on Ruen and the butcher with the bloody cleaver in his hand. His eyes widened.
'Welcome back,' Sull said, smiling cheerfully. He seemed to have forgotten Ruen's odd behavior. 'We've a few questions for you.'
Icelin knew she was dreaming. The scene was familiar. Barefoot, she walked on green grass, up the side of a wide, rocky hill. Shafts of sunlight shone on her white dress. There were wildflowers blooming, gold and purple, all around her feet.
She stopped at the crest of the hill. A stone tower rose up before her. A single window had been cut into the curve facing her, a dark and unblinking eye. The western side had caved in, leaving a gaping hole into which birds flew and nested. Their cries were the only sounds on the hilltop. But Icelin felt she was not alone.
There were other figures moving up the hill toward the tower, indistinct shadows darting in and out of her field of vision. She tried to grasp them with her eyes, but they had no more substance than the wind brushing her cheeks.
I will follow them, Icelin thought. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to stride across the grass to the gap in the immense tower. She put her hands on the exposed stone. Warm from the sun, bleached with age, and ribboned with thousands of miniscule cracks, the stone held secrets. Someone had told her this.
'All the ancient places of the world hold secrets. Who knows what manner of men walked here, be they beggars or kings-men who now lie in dusty tombs, their memories husks. Will the stones remember who touched them, when you lie beside these somber lords of the earth?'
Icelin remembered the words vividly, but for the first time in her life she could not recall who said them. The thought was vaguely disturbing, but she pushed it to the back of her dreaming mind.
She had entered the tower now. The stones blotted out the sun at her back. The tower's wood floors had long rotted away, leaving the interior open from earth to sky. Crushed grass and the remains of a small human body were strewn on the ground.
Icelin tilted her head as far back as she could, taking in the circle of blue rimmed by blackened stones through a gap in the ceiling. The tower had been damaged by fire; she could see the soot stains streaking the walls. Had this small human been the only person to die here? How had it come to be?
She felt tired now. Icelin sat down in the middle of the tower, still staring up at the sky. The shadow shapes moved around her, but she wasn't afraid of them. She felt that if they would only be still, she would be able to name them. It was the same with the tower-a living presence that, if she knew its name, would open its secrets to her and welcome her inside. Unnamed, it cast an immutable shadow over her dreams, dominating everything. ''Have you found anything?'
The voice, so loud in the peaceful place, made Icelin jump. The shadows flitted closer to her, and Icelin felt their urgency. Something was happening. The stones around her changed color and became bright orange and blue like storm clouds. The sun pouring through the tower roof was too hot, too hot.
She looked down at her skin and found it melting off her bones. She was burning alive.
CHAPTER 9
Icelin awoke to darkness and more shadows moving around her. This time she felt real terror, for she knew where she was. The gag stank in her mouth, and voices floated around her.
Cerest was there, somewhere in the darkness. She heard him say, 'We'll wait for gateclose. Bring her, if she's
