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"Become a virtual Sulla is what you mean! Proscribe! Is that what I'm to be in the time I have left, a dictator who proscribes! I won't. The voice of Amel misled Rhoshamandes! The voice of Amel drove him to kill Maharet. And I will not go back on my word to him. Listen, we can get these creatures to come to us. It's simple. I don't care how many human elves or apprentices Rhosh has in this world, he doesn't control the radio phone line."

"Gregory, Seth, Teskhamen, and I can do it," Marius said. "We can overpower him and destroy him."

"No," I said. I sat back. I shook my head. "No! It's wrong. Rhoshamandes is thousands of years old. He's seen things, he knows things....You don't do it with my blessing, and if you do it, you don't want a prince in me, you want a figurehead. And frankly, I think that's what you've always wanted. And you would be the ruler here, Marius, not me. You do this and you become the Prince. You begin your reign when he dies."

Spasm in my neck. Spasm in my temples. My right hand cramped suddenly. Amel was trying to make it jump. I looked down as if I were in my thoughts but I wasn't. I was trying to defeat his move to control my hand. And when I looked up again, I saw the eyes of all at the table were fixed on me. But only Gregory, Fareed, Seth, and Marius seemed aware of what was going on. Seth was staring at my hand. Add Gremt to that. Gremt was staring at my hand as well.

"Rhoshamandes's people have already searched Garekyn Brovotkin's house in London," said Teskhamen. "They frightened off his staff. They are no doubt tracking any and all banking connections they can find for this woman Kapetria."

Enough. I looked at Arion.

"I'm going to go on the air and invite them here," I said. I rose. "But before I do, I must talk to Arion here. It's about a personal matter. And then I need to go down to the village and make sure everything is done to protect the village and the Chateau, that the sprinkling systems are functioning in case Rhoshamandes does attack."

"That's all done, taken care of," said Marius. He too was on his feet. "But think what he could do if he sought to burn us out."

Thorne spoke up for the first time. "If Rhoshamandes attacks, we have to be able to attack back," he said. I knew how thoroughly he hated Rhoshamandes for killing Maharet.

There was a murmur of assent from those at the table.

"Of course," I said. "If he attacks, if he attempts to burn the Chateau, or the village, yes, of course, but he likely knows full well this will bring down the wrath of everyone on him. Yes, if he dares do any of this, burn him. Burn him with everything you've got. But he won't be so stupid."

"He can attack and withdraw very fast," said Gregory. "All of us, we must be on alert from the time you go on the air until morning." They were rising to their feet, pushing back their chairs. "We must make a plan for guarding the grounds."

A long miserable sigh came from Sevraine. She'd risen to her feet. "I'll stand guard with you," she said.

This was what they wanted, obviously, and they were right and there was no stopping them anyway. I hoped and prayed Rhoshamandes would stay away, but then if he were foolish enough to attack, well, he would get what he deserved.

I looked to Arion again. He was already moving towards me. And we went out of the Council Chamber together.

14

Rhoshamandes

HE HAD NEVER been in such a rage, not ever in his entire existence. Not even the night Benedict had left him did he know a rage such as this. His beloved Benedicta had just been found drifting off the coast of Northern Ireland with one life raft missing, and his poor feeble mortal caretakers had been in tears for having been duped by the supposed "guests" right after daybreak. Who had rescued that miserable Derek? How had the rescuer found him!

And what was t

he meaning of the strange description of the pair on the part of the old people, that they looked like twins except for the hair of one being filled with rampant streaks of gold? Otherwise they'd been identical!

"It's inconceivable, what you're thinking," said Roland.

They stood together in the huge drawing room of the Tudor-style house on Redington Road in London that belonged to the non-human Garekyn Brovotkin. It was silent and empty around them, just as it had been when they arrived.

"What do you mean 'inconceivable'?" said Rhoshamandes. He was growing weary of Roland, dim-witted Roland who'd kept the secret of the otherworldly Derek for a decade. "If I can conceive of it, it is conceivable, my friend. The arm grew into a duplicate being!"

"But if the creature could multiply in that way, surely he would have done it a long time ago."

"Not if he hadn't known how to do it," said Rhoshamandes. "Did you think he was a genius of his kind? He was a child, a pawn, a foot soldier at his best. He would have cracked easily if I hadn't had so much interference."

"You have to tell the Court," said Roland. "You have to tell them to turn off the radio broadcast. You have to go to them now."

"The Hell I do," said Rhoshamandes. He was humiliated, angry. The words of his frightened old caretaker echoed in his ears. "We thought they were guests. We provided them with food, wine...."

When he thought of the sight of Benedict's old room, in chaos with clothing and money and documents strewn all over the floor, he knew a rage he couldn't contain any longer.

"The creature is not coming back to this house," said Roland. "Whatever these things are, they're too smart to do that."

When Rhosh didn't answer him, Roland pressed again: