Egil grunted and said, "Then we have, I believe, from now till morning to make our escape, for Ordrune slays but a victim a day. He'll not come for another until tomorrow."

"Art thou saying that Alos…?"

"Yes, love. That is Ordrune's way."

"Oh, chier." Arin buried her face in her hands.

Ferret glanced at Arin, and then at Alos's empty cell. Finally she said, "All right, let's not waste his death. Assuming that I can get my hands on something which will free us, what then? What's our next move?" She looked across at Burel. "What choices lie before us, my fatalistic friend? What predestined path will we take?"

Burel grinned wryly, then turned to Egil. "You have been here before, Egil. What would you advise?"

Egil took a deep breath, then said, "Well, assuming we get free and have weapons in our hands, here is what we can do…"

Near sunset by Arin's reckoning, their deliberations were interrupted by a muffled singing from beyond the iron-clad door. The warder window clanked open and a Drokh peered in, the sound of the boisterous chanty blaring in as well. Then the door was flung wide, and inward came two Drokha bearing up an old man singing at the top of his lungs:

"Old Snorri in a cog

With his three-legged dog

Sailed off on the Boreal Sea.

And the Mystical Maid

At last was well laid,

So she set Snorri Borri's son free."

It was Alos.

Drunk.

The Drokha opened Alos's cage and shoved him within, the oldster reeling forward to collapse facedown in the rot of the sour straw.

Muttering to one another in Sluk, the Drokha slammed and locked the cell door and withdrew.

"Alos, old man," called Delon, "you're alive!"

Alos rolled over and peered at the ceiling. "Who said that?"

"We thought you were dead," said Ferret.

Alos craned his head up and bleared at the cell. Then he rolled back over and, levering up to hands and knees, he crawled to the bars and rapped a knuckle to one and then hissed, "Oh, no. I'm back in gaol." He began weeping.

"Alos, old man, tell us what happened," called Delon, kneeling at the bars between their cells.

Snubbing and snuffling, the oldster looked over at the bard. "We're trapped, you know," he whined.

In her cell across the way, Aiko turned her back to Alos, but Delon said, "Indeed. Nevertheless, what happened? What did Ordrune do to you?"

"Do?"

"Yes. Where did he take you? What did he do?"

"Why, he gave me some wine. Splendid wine." Alos slumped sideways, then hitched about until he sat with his back to the bars. Then he squinted his good eye and growled, "And he told me who raided the Solstrale with his crew of Trolls, the bastard who sunk her down in the chill waters of the Boreal Sea."

Aiko turned. "That's all, Alos? Nothing more?"

Alos frowned in concentration. "It seemed that there might be something else, but-"

"… Indeed, my friend, it was Durlok and his black galley who did the deed, Durlok who thinks to be Gyphon's regent on this world, but it is I, Ordrune, who will be His agent instead…"

"… Yet tell me, good Alos, just why would a mere seven of you come to my tower?…"

"… A rutting peacock, eh? Why, I would not have guessed. Here, have some more wine…"

"… Cut off her hand, you say?…"

"… One eye in dark water? What might it mean?…"

"… From the High King's cage with what? Oh well then, that explains how she opened locks I thought beyond any thief's skill to broach. Let me refill your cup…"

"… They slew Ubrux the Demon? Oh, they are indeed formidable…"

"… Here, my friend, inhale the fragrance of this vial, and then we'll have some more wine. That's right, just inhale as I tell you in spite of your misgivings, unlike before, you will never again desert your shipmates in their time of need, and you have said nothing of any consequence-yes, yes, inhale-nothing of any consequence at all…"

"-but I am certain that I told him nothing of any consequence."

"You were gone much too long for that to be the whole of it," said Aiko. "What else did you speak of?"

Alos frowned. "The weather. The stifling jungle air. The blood-sucking bugs. Durlok and his black galley Trolls overwhelming the Solstrale simply because her captain and crew knew the way into Serpent Cove." He turned and glared at Aiko. "Say, what are you accusing me of?"

"There's more here than meets the eye," hissed Aiko.

It was after sundown when the portal to the outer door was opened and a Drokh peered in. Then keys rattled in the lock, and a warder entered lugging an iron pot and he kicked the door to behind. He was alone, yet he was cautious and, with snarling gestures, he made each prisoner move to the back of the cell-all but Alos, that is, for the old man was unconscious and slumped down against the bars-before he dipped gruel out of the kettle and into the crusted wooden bowls at each cage.

Aiko glanced at Ferret and received a nod, and when the Drokh came to Aiko's cell-"Sate!" she called.

The guard looked up.

The hurled wooden spoon, its handle sharpened to a cruel point, took him in the throat. The iron pot clanged down on stone, and gargling and clutching at the air, the Drokh staggered back, crashing into bars behind, where Burel grabbed him and wrenched his chin sideways, breaking his neck.

Aiko reached out and dragged the pot to her and wrested the soft iron bail forward and back, freeing it from the eyelets, then she handed it through the side bars to Ferret.

Ferret set the tip of the iron into a crevice in the stone, bending the nib into a sharp crook. Quickly she inserted the angled end into the lock, and in mere moments- click!-the door was open.

Moving from cell to cell, she opened the locks to each, Aiko's first, Alos's last.

The iron-clad outer door was still unlocked. Cautiously they edged it open a crack. The key ring yet dangled from the latch. The guardroom was empty of warders.

Aiko glanced at Egil, a question in her eyes.

"Perhaps they are at mess," sissed Egil.

Silently they slipped through to the armory, and lo! there on a table were arrayed their own weapons and gear.

"Something is not right," growled Aiko.

Arming themselves, Delon went back for Alos, and he came carrying the oldster across his shoulders, Alos dead to the world.

They scooped up as many lanterns as they could find, and following Egil, up a stone stairwell they crept. At the next level they peered out into the courtyard. A crescent moon hung low in the west and in the shadows immediately at hand they saw no one, though up on the torchlit walls warders patrolled.

Again Aiko growled and shook her head, but she said nothing and instead, with Burel, stood guard at the door, while Arin, Egil, and Ferret emptied lantern oil across the wooden floor.

Ferret set it alight, and then they all scurried out into the night, Delon yet bearing unconscious Alos.

As they came into the shadows of the battlements, a Ruptish horn blatted, and Drokha cried in harsh alarm, for smoke poured from the building behind. Amid shouts and clamor Spaunen rushed down from the parapets, and others came tumbling out from the main building. And in the confusion, none noted the seven who ran the opposite way, up the ramp to the castellations, and then over the wall, Burel now bearing the burden of Alos as he clambered down the rope in the pale moonlight.

Down the switchbacks to the dark, unwarded docks they ran, where, as some made the sloop ready, others set the sails of the moored dhow aflame. And then, in the light breeze now flowing down the cove toward the sea, wing-on-wing the Brise fled the conflagration behind.