WHO YOUR FRIENDS ARE

ON THE WHOLE, she reflected with a loopy clarity while pain clanged back and forth in her head and the guard held her upright, she liked being rescued. It was better than not being rescued. Definitely.

But what had inspired King Joyse to send for her now? How did he know she needed rescuing?

How did he know she was under arrest?

Considering how little information she herself possessed, it was truly astonishing how much everybody else seemed to know.

'Are you all right, my lady?' asked the guard.

She heard relief and concern in his tone. On the other hand, no one had mentioned Myste. Hadn't they missed her yet? She speculated on that until she forgot the guard's question.

He shook her gently and repeated, 'Are you all right?'

Her vision appeared normal. Nevertheless she had the odd impression that everything was distorted. The angles where the walls met the floor looked false. The doorway was insidiously straight, not to be trusted. She was out of her mind, of course. She didn't object, however: this kind of craziness helped her bear the way her head hurt.

'My lady?' The guard's concern was becoming stronger than his relief.

Do you know-? she began; but no sound came out. She made an effort to clear her throat, hold her head more upright. 'Do you know why he hit me?'

'No, my lady.' The guard was standing beside her with one arm around her back and the other hand on her shoulder. She still had no idea what he looked like. 'I wasn't here.'

'He hit me,' she said precisely, 'because I insulted him.'

Suddenly, she wanted to laugh. Or cry: it was hard to tell the difference. She had insulted him, she, Terisa Morgan. It was worth getting hit for. Maybe. 'Oh, my head hurts.'

'Here, my lady.'

Carefully, the guard manoeuvred her into a chair, then pressed a goblet of wine into her hands. She drank deeply; for a moment she felt spikes hammering through her skull. After that, however, she began to feel better.

With an effort, she said, 'Thanks.' Now what she wanted was a nap. But there was some reason why she couldn't take one. What was it? Oh, yes. 'Did you say the King wants to see me?'

'Yes, my lady. When you're well enough to walk.'

She turned her head to look at him and smile. She didn't remember ever having seen him before. He was a relatively young man with a thin face and earnest eyes-perhaps not the most promising candidate to convey a message which would infuriate Castellan Lebbick. But he had carried out his orders. And she was grateful for his courtesy.

'We might as well try,' she said. 'Maybe the walk will do me good.'

Nodding encouragement, he assisted her to her feet. Then he gave her his arm to lean on. She took a few experimental steps and found that the condition of her head continued to improve. Incredible. Judging by appearances, it was actually possible to survive having a man like the Castellan furious at her. A man like her father. She could hardly believe it.

Moving cautiously, she let her escort guide her to the tower where King Joyse and his daughters had their suites. By the time she arrived at the high, carved door of the King's apartment, she felt reasonably stable-balanced between light-headedness and the after- effects of Lebbick's vehemence.

The King's guards opened his door without question: clearly they were expecting her. One of them announced her while the other bowed her inward. In a moment, she found herself standing for the second time in the richly furnished chamber where the king Joyse played his games of hop-board.

Lit by candles in candelabra and brass wall-holders, the thick blue-and-red rug contrasted warmly with the decorated blond wood panelling of the walls, bringing out the carving and the delicate black inlay-work. An ornamental mantel framed the fireplace. On the hop-board table, a game was in progress. No one was playing, however.

'My lord King,' the guard pronounced firmly, 'here is the lady Terisa of Morgan.' Then he withdrew, taking his companion and Terisa's escort with him and closing the door. But King Joyse didn't react. He sprawled in a gilt-edged armchair with his legs extended on a fat hassock and his head propped against the chairback. His purple velvet robe covered him like a shroud: it was starting to look as old and ratty as Adept Havelock's surcoat. A long sheet of parchment-an open scroll-was draped over his face; his arms dangled beside him, his swollen knuckles nearly scraping the rug. The floor around his chair was littered with more scrolls, some of them open, others haphazardly tied with string.

He was snoring decorously. The stiff parchment rustled whenever he breathed.

The King's Dastard wasn't present. Instead, King Joyse was being kept company by

Geraden and the Tor.

Involuntarily, she gaped at them.

'My lady,' rumbled the Tor. 'It is a pleasure to renew your acquaintance.' His fat overflowed his chair, and his plump hands gripped a flagon of wine as if he couldn't function without it. His thin white hair straggled disconsolately from his pale scalp. But his voluminous black robe was clean; his jowls were decently shaved. Although his small eyes were bleary, they seemed marginally less blurred than she remembered them.

Geraden met her surprise with a grin. Almost at once, however, his expression changed to distress. He jumped out of his chair, approached her: lightly, he stroked the hot skin of her cheek. That unscrupulous bastard,' he whispered. 'He hit you.' Then chagrin overcame him. 'I'm so sorry. It's my fault. I didn't think he would go that far. I thought I would be fast enough. I ran all the way-all the way-'

'Enough, young Geraden,' the Tor interposed, peering morosely into his flagon. 'You are a son of the Domne. Have more dignity.'

'I don't understand.' Terisa felt that she had abruptly become stupid. 'What're you doing here?'

'As little as I can,' the Tor replied as though she had spoken to him. 'King Joyse keeps good wine and an excellent fire. I have no other needs.

'It was awkward, I admit,' he mused, frowning to himself. 'He refused to see me. After that cell, I felt as cold as my son. I wanted to be warm again. And I thought I would share a last flagon with my old friend the King of Mordant. Did I say that I would not leave him? I meant to say so. But he refused to see me. Very awkward.'

Unexpectedly, he smiled. Under other circumstances, it would have been a happy smile; but it didn't touch the sadness in his eyes. 'He underestimated me. I sat down outside his door and commenced howling. Not polite, deferential howling, I assure you, but howling to alarm the dead.'

'You did that?' Geraden grinned in spite of himself, surprised out of his contrition.

The Tor nodded. 'It is well that my family did not see me. They would not have thought better of me for it. But I succeeded.' He glanced towards King Joyse and commented, 'Since admitting me, he has found it impossible to make me depart.'

This didn't make much sense to Terisa. She shook her head to clear ft, but the movement had the opposite effect. She needed to sit down. Or lie down-

'But why?' She couldn't forget how the Tor had looked standing in the mud of the courtyard with his dead son in his arms, or what Geraden had told her about King Joyse's reaction to the Tor's son's death. 'All the other lords left. Why do you want to stay?'

The Tor grimaced. 'Revenge.'

Geraden was starred. 'Revenge?'

Tor most of my life,' explained the lord in a husky voice, 'I have been haunted by the knowledge that I did not give King Joyse my full support when he needed it. This would have been wise policy-if he had failed. But he succeeded, thereby making me a conniving ingrate in the eyes of all Mordant. I mean to be revenged for that.'

'I don't understand,' Terisa repeated weakly. Maybe the Tor was joking. But what kind of joke was it?

'The King needs a chancellor.' The lord didn't raise his head. 'Someone who can put two coherent commands together better than that mad Imager. As long as I sit here'-he flopped one hand on the arm of his chair-'and speak as though I have authority, I will be obeyed. Whether he wishes it or not, Joyse will no longer be a passive ruler. Either I will take action in his name, or he must take action to stop me.'

Geraden's eyes gleamed appreciatively; but Terisa said, 'Wait a minute.' She was too slow: she had to catch up. She had believed that the Apt was abandoning her when he left her to Lebbick. 'You're giving orders in the King's name.' She turned to Geraden. 'You came here-you ran here-to get King Joyse to stop Castellan Lebbick.' Geraden nodded. She glanced over at the King. 'Does he really want to see me?'

With the exaggerated care of too much wine, the Tor scanned the room as if searching for eavesdroppers. Then he said, 'No.' At once, one plump finger jumped to his lips to hush himself. In a thick whisper, he added, 'But he would if he had any sense. He was asleep, so I took the liberty of speaking for him.

'Young Geraden is right,' he continued sententiously. The good Castellan should not be allowed to make decisions where women are concerned.'

She felt that she hadn't stopped gaping at him. She wanted to say several things at once. What do you hope to accomplish? Oh, Geraden, I'm sorry! Do you really think he'll let you get away with this? But that wasn't the point, of course. The point was to make King Joyse declare himself-to make Mordant's sovereign take a stand which

would reveal his true intentions. So she didn't ask any of her questions. Instead, she said sincerely, 'I'm glad you did it. I needed rescuing.'

The Tor gave her a lugubrious wink. To Geraden, he commented, 'You see? Already my revenge begins to bear fruit.'

'My father tells a lot of stories about you, my lord,' said Geraden. 'I don't think they do you justice.'

But Terisa wasn't done. She turned to Geraden. Because she had become brave enough to tell lies-and even to speak insults -she was brave enough to say, 'I'm sorry. When you left, I thought you were running out on me. I should have known better.'

He met her gaze sharply, and his shoulders straightened. That's right.' His tone was earnest. 'You should have known better. I would rather cut my hands off than run out on you.'

Almost at once, however, he relapsed to self-consciousness. 'I'm glad I did something right.' His smile was embarrassed and happy. 'Please don't count on it. It doesn't happen that often.'

Tush, young Geraden,' the Tor interposed. 'You malign yourself.' He drained his flagon and waved it until the Apt found a decanter and poured more wine for him. 'Your difficulty is quite simple. You have not found your true abilities. As the King's chancellor, I dispense advice freely to all. Born swordsmen make very clumsy farmers, as I am sure your brother Artagel would agree. Give up Imagery. A son of the Domne should not spend his life providing jokes for Imagers.'

Geraden's face darkened, not with anger, but with pain. 'I would if I could.' The quick distress in his voice went straight to Terisa's heart. 'I'm a disappointment to my whole family. I know that. But I can't-I cannot give it up.'

The Tor studied his wine with the air of a man who didn't want to meet Geraden's eyes. 'At least you are your father's son. Take comfort in that. He, too, is stubborn. I have heard King Joyse say that he would rather break his head on a stone wall than argue with the Domne.'

Privately, Terisa thought that if Artagel had been present he would have denied being disappointed in his brother at all.

Abruptly, the King made a snorting noise. A twitch of his head dislodged the scroll, and the parchment slipped aside, curling around itself among the others on the rug. Blinking, he raised his hands to his chest and flexed them as if they had gone numb. The

Domne,' he muttered at the ceiling. 'Stubborn man. Rather break my head on a stone wall.'

In an effort to push himself upright, he fumbled at the arms of his chair; but he seemed too stunned with dreams-or too weak-to succeed.

'My lord King.' Geraden went to him and helped him.

With awkward hands, King Joyse tried to rub the sleep off his face. Seen in this way, his old skin and watery eyes had a vulnerability which pained Terisa. He didn't look like a perverse or half-mad ruler who refused to defend his kingdom: he looked like a frail semi-invalid, nearly crippled by arthritis and age, who had lost most of the people he loved and now could barely keep his grip on reason.

But when he saw her-when he got his eyes into focus and saw who she was-he answered her unspoken concern with a smile of clean, uncluttered joy.

That was where the lady Myste had come by her look of sunshine: she had inherited it from her father. Terisa tried to distance herself from his transparent pleasure; but she couldn't. If he had simply smiled at her like that and done nothing to change the way she felt about him, she would have done anything for him.

Unfortunately, he spoke.

'My lady, have you come to offer me a game? How kind of you. I have a problem here'-he gestured towards his hop-board table-'which defies my poor brain.'

Her disappointment was so acute that she had to turn her head away.

He levered himself upright in a way which suggested his legs weren't as weak as his arms. 'Havelock set it up for me. If I understand him-which isn't always easy-he once found a solution. These are his notes.' King Joyse nudged a nearby scroll with one foot. 'Since I haven't been able to design a solution for myself, I've been reading his notes, hunting-' His voice trailed away as he lost the thread of what he was saying. His gaze shifted towards the Tor and Geraden as if he couldn't quite remember who they were. Then he looked back to Terisa and resumed, '-hunting for his answer.' He shrugged. 'Without success. Maybe you can give me some fresh ideas.'

Memories of her game with Prince Kragen made her stomach twist. King Joyse had lured her into that situation with his smile. She didn't want to find herself in a similar mess again. Carefully, she said, 'I'm sorry. I didn't come for that. The Tor'-she hoped the lord would forgive her for putting him on the spot-'had your guards bring me here.'

'Ah, my old friend the Tor.' King Joyse grimaced as though his mouth were full of bile. 'He is one of the few mummers in this masque who defies prediction.' He seemed to drift between colloquial and more formal diction according to his mood. 'Who could have foreseen that he would feel compelled to force his service upon me, after all the indignities I have required him to suffer?' He didn't glance in the direction of the old lord. 'This is not in the rules. It is enough to drive me mad, my lady.'

'My lord King'-the Tor's voice was quiet and harsh-'I am sure you understand that I am not motivated by benevolence.'

The King ignored him. 'Nevertheless,' he said to Terisa, working visibly to recover his equanimity, 'we must all bear our burdens as we can. Mine is hop-board.' Again, he gestured towards the table. 'This problem beats me. Are you sure you won't take a look at it for me? It's really quite demonic,' Slowly, the skin around his eyes crinkled with humour and enjoyment. 'And I think you know something about it.

'Please?'

Without quite intending to do so, she faced the table. After all, it wasn't entirely fair to say that his smile alone had seduced her into her game with Prince Kragen. She had had her own odd reasons for what she did. It wasn't fair to place all the blame on King Joyse.

When she saw the arrangement of the men on the board, she understood his idea that she knew something about it. The position was virtually a stalemate: it was the same position she had played for against Prince Kragen. Whose move was it? If white's, the game could go on: if red's, the only available play would complete the stalemate.

'It's red's turn,' answered the King, although she hadn't spoken.

'I see what you mean,' she murmured. 'There's no way out of that. Adept Havelock must be joking.'

'Oh, I don't think so. He doesn't have that kind of humour.' King Joyse frowned at the board. 'There is a way out. I'm sure of it. I simply can't imagine what it is.'

Terisa shook her head. The subject of hop-board held no interest for her. To dismiss it, she said, 'I haven't played for years. The only thing I can see is to back up and start over again. Try to avoid arriving in this position.'

He gave her another of his radiant smiles. 'My lady, I wish life were that simple.' Under the influence of his joy, she thought suddenly that she caught Havelock's joke.

'In that case,' she said, 'try this.' Without pausing to reflect, she took hold of the edge of

the table and tilted it back and forth just enough to slide most of the men off their squares. In an instant, the impending stalemate became chaos.

Grinning, she turned back to the King.

He obviously didn't think what she had done was funny. A look of nausea on his face, he stared at the board. His frailty came back over him; his eyes filled as if he were on the verge of tears.

Hastily, she tried to explain, 'I still think Adept Havelock was joking.' She indicated the board. 'Does he have that kind of humour?'

King Joyse gave no sign that he heard her.

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just a game.'

Without warning, his eyes flashed like steel glimpsed through water. To you, it's just a game. To me, it's the difference between life and ruin.'

Moving so feebly that he nearly tottered, he went back to his chair. The difficulty with which he lowered himself into his seat made her ache as if in some way it were her fault.

'My lord King,' Geraden asked, 'are you all right? Can I get anything for you?'

Slowly, King Joyse shifted his damp blue gaze towards the Apt. 'I notice you haven't been paying much attention to my orders,' he rasped acidulously. 'I distinctly told you not to see or speak with the lady Terisa. I told you not to answer her questions. Do you call what you've been doing obedience? I expected better loyalty from a son of the Domne.'

His accusation surprised Geraden. The Apt's head jerked up: his concern changed to a scowl. 'My lord King,' he replied slowly, holding his emotions like a bit clamped between his teeth, 'I would obey your orders if I understood them. But they don't make any sense.

'You've lost interest in Mordant. You insulted Prince Kragen badly enough to start a war with Alend. You let the Congery summon that champion, when the Fayle did everything he could to warn you. We need all the friends we can get. I'm not willing to treat the lady Terisa like an enemy.'

King Joyse looked too tired and old to keep his head up; but his gaze didn't waver. 'Are you through?'

Geraden took a sharp breath. 'No.' Stiffly, he said like a formal confession, 'My lord King, the day after you commanded me not to see or speak with the lady Terisa, I took her to the mirror which brought her here and attempted to return her to her own world.' Then he stopped, held himself still.

Like Geraden, Terisa expected anger from King Joyse. She wouldn't have been surprised if he had sent for the Castellan. Apparently anticipating the same reaction, the Tor shifted forward in his chair, braced himself to speak.

But the King only sighed. He leaned back and rested his chin on his chest. Staring vaguely into the rug, he murmured, 'One grows old so quickly. This should have happened when I was younger. I was strong enough when I was younger.'

Terisa wanted to ask-gently, gently-What should have happened? But Geraden had been too shaken by the King's accusation to let it drop.

'I tried to translate her back to her own world because I believe all the things you used to say about the reality and integrity of what we see in mirrors. I think she deserves the freedom to leave whenever she wants. If I had known you were going to let the Masters translate their champion-if I had known you were going to turn your back on the ideals you talked about when you created the Congery in the first place-I would have tried a lot harder to get her out of here.' What he was saying wasn't recrimination: it was an appeal. Terisa could hear his heart in it. 'Why did you do it? Their champion nearly killed us. He left a hole the size of a small village in the northwest wall. We might as well invite Cadwal and Alend to besiege us. And he's still out there, ready to tear down anybody who gets in his way.'

And Myste is out there, Terisa thought. Your daughter. She's trying to catch up with him.

'My lord King, the Fayle tried to warn you. Why didn't you let him warn you?'

King Joyse didn't bother to glance at the Apt. When Geraden finally fell silent, the King didn't reply for a moment. Then he said, 'Because I didn't see fit to do so.' A tremor of bitterness and pain ran through his voice. 'Do you think you're qualified to make my decisions for me? I was fighting to make Mordant and the Congery whole long before you were old enough to fall on your face in pigwallows.'

Geraden flushed at this jibe, but couldn't retort to it.

'I let the Masters have their champion because I didn't choose to stop them. 'Besides,' King Joyse added sourly, 'Eremis is under arrest.

That should make you happy. Lebbick will arrest Gilbur when he finds him. The perpetrators are going to be punished. What more do you want?'

'I want to understand,' cried Geraden.

Tush, young Geraden,' the Tor rumbled unexpectedly. 'I doubt that the Domne has any thick-skulled sons. Surely you are not stupid. It must be obvious by now that my lord King does not wish you to understand.'

Geraden whirled to face the Tor. 'But why? I'm just an Apt. I'll never become a Master.

What harm would it do if I understood? Who would it hurt?'

The Tor lifted his shoulders fatly. Speaking half into his flagon, he asked, 'How did I gain an audience with the King?'

Hauled up short, Geraden blinked at the old lord. Slowly, he said, 'You howled outside the door until he let you in.'

King Joyse snorted quietly.

In disgust, the Tor grimaced. 'You cannot convince me that you are stupid. I insist that you are not. How did I gain an audience with the King when I first arrived in Orison?'

Geraden opened his mouth. 'I-' Then he closed it again.

'Young Geraden'-the Tor emphasized each word-'the King does not wish you to understand. I suggest that you return to your quarters and beat your head against the wall until your skull cracks enough to let a little light shine in.'

'Yes, go,' King Joyse muttered at once. 'I'm tired of being reminded how little my own people respect their King.'

Sharply, Geraden turned back to the King. Now Terisa saw something wild in his eyes, something extreme enough to be dangerous. Nevertheless his balance had become steady, as if urgency improved his poise. 'Actually,' he said, 'I should be used to this.' His tone was almost calm. 'I was always the youngest. My brothers didn't have the patience to explain things to me very often.' Almost calm-and almost threatening. 'I probably do better when I figure it out for myself.'

Without glancing away from King Joyse, he asked Terisa, 'My lady, will you come with me?'

'She will stay here,' King Joyse answered for her.'I want to talk to her.'

So he did want to talk to her. Terisa didn't know whether to be relieved or concerned. To Geraden, she said, 'I'll see you later,' trying to reassure him. 'We'll think of something.' Then she waited while he made up his mind to leave.

Before he left, he gave her a look like an iron promise-a look that hinted at passion and authority. Then he was gone.

As the door closed, the Tor sighed thickly. He emptied his flagon and settled his bulk more comfortably in the chair as though he intended to take a nap.

Terisa faced King Joyse.

Instinctively, she felt sure she knew why King Joyse wanted to talk to her. And she meant to take advantage of the opportunity. She was angry. Castellan Lebbick had hit her. King Joyse insisted on causing Geraden pain. Master Eremis had been arrested. She was angrier than she had realized.

Her voice shook slightly as she said, 'You knew Master Eremis was arrested. Castellan Lebbick has been reporting everything to you.' That seemed a safe deduction. 'You knew he was going to arrest me. You let him attack me like that. If the Tor hadn't stopped him, I would be in a cell by now.

'I seem to recall hearing you argue I might be a powerful Imager-I was like an ambassador-I had to be treated with respect. Do you call this respect?'

As if he intended to answer her, he raised his head. He shifted in his chair to face her squarely. Now there was no petulance or bitterness in his expression. He looked grave with all the seriousness of his years, as intent on her as his watery gaze permitted-and so sorrowful that she was taken aback.

'My lady,' he asked softly, 'where is my daughter?'

So she was right. Her pulse beat faster. At last she had something somebody else wanted, something she could use. As long as she didn't betray Myste, this was her chance.

The prospect frightened her; but she clung to it with both hands. 'Which daughter?' she returned despite the tremor in her voice. 'You have several.'

She expected indignation and anger-that was what she always expected-but King Joyse remained quiet. His expression didn't change. For a long moment, he studied her through the moisture in his eyes. Then he indicated the chair across the table from him. 'My lady, will you be seated?'

At first she hesitated, Perhaps she would be stronger if she stayed on her feet. But his sadness was as persuasive as his smile.

She went to the chair, pulled it away from the table to dissociate herself from hop- board, and sat down.

When she was seated, he said in the same soft, grieving tone, 'My lady, my daughter Myste is gone. Where is she?'

Suddenly, her tongue was so dry that she could barely swallow. Like a frightened but stubborn child, she asked, 'My lord King, why did you let Castellan Lebbick arrest me?'

The room seemed uncomfortably warm. Again, the King's eyes gave a hint of steel. He held her gaze until he faltered and looked down. Then he breathed almost inaudibly, 'My lady, do not play this game with me. It is more dangerous than you imagine.'

For a few seconds while her heart hammered and her stomach knotted, she nearly backed down. She didn't have the strength to face him. Anybody was stronger than she was. As she had with Saddith, she felt that vulnerability and weakness were her only defence, her only weapon.

But backing down now wouldn't accomplish anything. The King would still want to know about his daughter. He would still demand answers. If she gave up what she wanted, she wouldn't make herself safer. And it would be more difficult for her to avoid betraying Myste.

And she was too angry to give up. Deliberately, she raised her eyes to the King's again. 'I don't have any choice. Geraden tried to take me back where I belong, but that mirror doesn't seem to work any more. I have to play.

'Why did you let Castellan Lebbick arrest me?'

Something shifted in the background of King Joyse's expression, like clouds moving their shadows across a distant landscape. Without any definable change, his attention became sharper and more cautious.

'My lady'-his tone was caustic in an oddly impersonal way, as if he didn't mean it-'do you know who your friends are?'

She stared at him in surprise and bit her lip and didn't try to answer.

'Well, I don't either. Having you arrested would have been a good way to find out. It would have been very interesting to see who tried to help you-or communicate with you-

or persuade me to let you go. But of course Geraden interfered. With his usual instinct for disaster. I already knew he was a friend of yours.'

This reply startled her. It drew a different sketch of him-of the way his mind worked- than she was expecting: it seemed to imply that he was paying attention to what happened in Orison. 'Wait a minute,' she protested weakly. 'Wait a minute. You mean you planned to have me arrested? It was just a ploy?'

'No, my lady.' He waved one sore-knuckled finger at her. 'You aren't playing the game.

It's my turn now. Where is my daughter?'

Terisa drew a sharp breath. For a moment, she considered trying to extort information from him without revealing anything herself. In spite of his age, however, he looked too strong for that tactic. And it wouldn't be fair. He was Myste's father.

Carefully, she responded, 'She came to see me yesterday afternoon. In my rooms. We talked for a long time.'

He nodded. 'I guessed that. But I don't understand it. What do you have that she wanted? What did she tell you?'

'No, my lord King. It's my turn now.'

She had so many questions. Too many to remember them all at once. And she didn't want to waste an opportunity like this on the one she had blurted out a moment earlier. So she concentrated on the issue which had brought her to the King's suite- on Castellan Lebbick and his behaviour.

'When I leave my rooms with someone-with Master Eremis, for example-my guards always want to know where I'm going. But when I leave with Geraden, nobody seems to care. Why is that?'

King Joyse snorted as if she had just made a particularly bad move. In the same caustic, impersonal way, he said, 'You should have figured that out for yourself. I already know Geraden is your friend.'

Right. Of course. She really should have figured that out for herself. A sense of panic rose in her. She wasn't thinking quickly enough.

Impatiently, the King continued, 'You were speaking of my daughter, my lady.'

'Yes.' She needed to be smarter. Sharper. She was tempted to turn to the Tor for help. But she could hear him breathing deeply, heavily, as though he were about to snore.

Groping for inspiration, she asked, 'Can you be more specific?' 'Certainly,' he snapped, 'Where is she?'

Fortunately, his tone brought back her anger. All right. If that was the way he wanted to play. 'I don't actually know where she is.' She made an effort to sound sweet. 'But you asked what I have that she wanted. There's an entrance to a secret passage in my wardrobe. She wanted to use it.'

Again, he nodded. Apparently, Terisa was only confirming his own suspicions. 'Why?'

Anger was a great help. She was being cruel to him-but only because she had been so badly treated herself. 'My lord King,' she said stiffly, 'the first night I was here a man tried to kill me. When he was chased away, Castellan Lebbick started a search for him. But you called it off.' Despite her inexperience, she worked to match his tone. 'Why?'

For an instant, King Joyse hesitated. The shadows shifted behind his eyes. Then he said trenchantly, 'Because I didn't want him caught.'

'What? Why not?'

'I didn't think he was stupid, so I didn't think he would lead Lebbick to his allies. And I didn't think he was a coward, so I didn't think he would tell me anything if Lebbick caught him. The only way to learn anything about him was to leave him alone and wait for what he did next.' His voice grew harsher; but it still sounded impersonal, as if his ire were calculated rather than real. 'Are you satisfied, my lady?

'Why did my daughter want to use a secret passage?'

'Because'-Terisa's anger made her stronger than she would have believed possible-'she wanted to leave Orison.'

That struck him, hurt him. 'Leave Orison?'

'She knew you would stop her if you could, so she used that passage to get down into the laborium. Then she sneaked out through the hole in the wall.'

'Leave Orison?' he repeated. 'Why?'

'No.' She clenched her fists to make herself ignore his distress. 'Why did you make me play hop-board against Prince Kragen? You did everything you could to force a war. I didn't enjoy being used like that.'

So suddenly that she had no chance to defend herself, King Joyse surged out of his chair. As if he had never been weak or old in his life, he knotted his hands in the front of her shirt and jerked her to her feet. 'This is intolerable! She is my daughter!' His eyes ran as if he were weeping. 'Her mother and one of her sisters left me. Her other sister holds me in contempt. Where did she go?'

Terisa should have broken then: she knew that about herself, She should have given up everything and betrayed Myste in simple fear. Her own anger should have evaporated.

But it didn't.

'Back to her mother,' she retorted. Myste was her friend. 'She wanted to be loyal. She wanted to help you. But when you insulted Prince Kragen like that, you broke her heart. She was raised to be the daughter of a king, not some petty tyrant who likes war and can't be bothered to defend his own people. She-'

Terisa stopped. His anguish stopped her. His sudden strength collapsed. He let go of her shirt: his hands dropped. His eyes squeezed shut, but tears went on spilling past his old eyelids. 'If you He to me-' he rasped far back in his throat. 'If you dare lie to me-' It wasn't a threat: it was a plea. Fumbling behind him, he found the arm of his chair and braced himself on it while he sat down. His robe covered him as if he were lost inside it. 'My daughter, what have I done to you?'

'Why did you do it?' Terisa asked so that his pain wouldn't tear the truth out of her. 'Why did you make me play hop-board against Prince Kragen?'

'To test him,' he replied like a man who had no idea what he was saying. 'No other reason. How could I trust him? Alend has been Mordant's enemy for generations. He has a personal grudge against me. If his mission were honourable, he would refuse to play. He would have no reason to brook that insult to the Alend Monarch. But if he intended treachery he would acquiesce because he could not risk my displeasure-risk expulsion from Orison before his work was done.' He covered his face with his hands, 'Oh, my daughter.'

So it was true. He knew what he was doing, what was happening around him. The thought seemed to chill her blood. Where had she gotten the idea that it was too warm in this room? She wanted to shiver violently. Ignorance or senility had nothing to do with it.

He was intentionally destroying Mordant.

And yet his distress swept her anger away. She could fear him, but she couldn't be angry at him. 'I'm sorry,' she said, trying to be kind. 'I guess this game is a stalemate,

too.'

Roughly, he pulled down his hands. They shook as he clasped them together in his lap. He didn't look at her. Quietly and distinctly, he said, 'My lady, I suggest that you give the matter more consideration before you once again attempt to end a stalemate by tilting the board.' Then he indicated the door with a twitch of his head, dismissing her.

She turned to leave as if she were fleeing.

The Tor was awake. He watched the King with a look that resembled hunger. As she passed his chair, he gave her a firm nod of approval.

She had already closed the door behind her before it occurred to her to wonder how King Joyse had been able to guess that Myste had come to her for help.