saw Captain Chetnik in a wagon coming straight toward them through the crowd. Vatz was seated next to the captain, and several guards sat behind. The crackling roar of the pyre and mill of the crowds had masked the wagon's approach.

As the wagon halted, Chetnik appeared stunned by the sight on the street. He jumped out, imposing with his wide girth and white surcoat and mass of dark curling hair hidden beneath the three-crested helmet. He strode purposefully toward Magiere.

"Have you lost all reason?" he demanded.

Magiere stood with arms crossed, facing the fire.

Leesil reached into the sack and pulled out Ratboy's head. "Look in its mouth."

Chetnik leaned away. He'd rarely spoken to Leesil, and he stopped, uncertain. Cautiously, the captain reached out and pushed back the head's stiffened, pale lips to reveal long, canine eyeteeth.

"We have bodies to burn," Leesil said. "It's the only way to be certain."

Chetnik's eyes flew up to Leesil's face and then to Magiere.

"You might have chosen a more discreet location. I would have helped."

"Yes," Magiere said coldly. "We should have quietly slipped away with all proof, so no one had to acknowledge anything happened at all."

Chetnik ran a hand over his face, trying to resume his professional posture. "Well enough. I understand."

Leesil realized then, that of all the people they'd dealt with in this city, aside from the sages, Chetnik was one of the few who cared what happened to its citizens, even the commoners. In time, word of this grisly scene would spread, and people would know what had happened. No more secrets and lies from the council. After that, well, Leesil didn't envy the captain when family and friends of the missing came looking for him.

"Is there anything more that needs to be done?" the captain asked grudgingly.

"We need to see the council immediately," Leesil answered. "Can you get us in?"

Chetnik sighed. "Get in the wagon. There's a meeting this morning."

Magiere turned from the pyre without a word, and Wynn followed her at a safe distance with Vatz. As the captain was about to join them, Leesil stopped him to speak privately.

"On the third floor of the house is the female's room. When the rest of this is finished, go there yourself and see what you find. Sell it all, and use the money for those who suffered loss. It won't bring back their dead, but it might help them get on with their lives. I doubt the council will do much, even now that all of this is out in the open."

Chetnik appeared suspicious for a moment. Then, with a firm clench of his square jaw, he nodded.

As they drove away, the bodies blackened in the flames.

Chetnik left two guards to watch the fire, with instructions to keep it burning until nothing but ash remained.

Magiere followed the captain down the long hall toward the ornate doors of the council chamber. Leesil was beside her, and Chap, Wynn, and even Vatz hurried along behind them.

"I take it this'll be as ugly as that scene you made in the street," Chetnik growled over his shoulder.

Magiere made no reply.

Chetnik grunted his approval. "Good enough."

The effeminate secretary, Doviak, scurried after them, nearly shouting, "Sir, you cannot bring them in without an appointment!"

The captain ignored him and, fortunately, the little man didn't try to step in the way.

Magiere's respect for Chetnik increased. Bela's city officials were a loathsome lot, but the guards' captain had a brain and a backbone behind his sense of duty to the people. Such a rarity left Magiere sad and stirred more guilt for all the years she and Leesil had preyed upon the poor.

The captain grabbed both latches and jerked the council room doors open. Magiere stepped straight up to the near end of the long oval table as Leesil joined her.

The men of Bela's council gasped at their arrival. The councilmen, in their fine black tunics and cloaks, with their perfectly clipped and combed hair, stared in astonishment at the ragged, band invading their sacred space. Surprise quickly faded from several faces to be replaced with anger, followed by exclamations of outrage and indignation at the intrusion. At the table's far end, Lanjov stood up.

Magiere hadn't seen him since the morning Au'shiyn's body was found. He looked haggard beneath his proper attire, and his hair appeared lead gray rather than the polished steel she remembered from her first day in Bela.

"Mistress Magiere," Lanjov said politely. "An appointment for an audience is customary, and Captain Chetnik knows this."

"It's done," she responded, ignoring