The Floodgate   ::   Каннингем Элейн

Despite his size, Basel could be quick andsilent. He reached into his spell bag for a small iron nail and eased himself into the room. His hand flashed in a quick circle as he spoke a single, arcane word. The nail vanished, and the intruder froze in the act of whirling toward him.

Basel paced into the room for a closer look at the would-be thief. The woman was of medium height and extraordinary beauty. Her hair was a glossy blue-black, her features delicate, her curves lavish. She wore a pale blue robe-an attempt at disguise, no doubt. A startled expression was carved onto her immobile face, and a medallion swung from her still hand.

The wizard's heart quickened as he studied the trinket. That was Keturah's talisman! There was no magic left to it other than the memories it evoked. No doubt Tzigone had left it there for safekeeping rather than risk losing it in her travels.

Basel tugged the chain from the woman's frozen fingers. Her trapped eyes followed his movements and glazed with despair.

He recognized the woman as Sinestra, a minor wizard married to one of the Belajoon brothers. The family was a well-established wizard line, and they held considerable wealth and respect in the king's city. What would prompt a pampered young wife to thievery?

More curious than angry, Basel released the holding spell with a flick of one hand.

The woman exploded into action, throwing herself at the talisman in Basel's hand. "Give it to me! It's mine!"

He deftly sidestepped, and the intruder tripped and fell facedown on Tzigone's cot. Her muffled oath was both pungent and familiar. Basel had heard it from Tzigone, and from her mother before her.

His heart skipped a beat. "Who are you?" he breathed.

She sat up and tossed a pinch of powder into the air over her head. The sparkling bits caught and hung in the air, then melted together to form a thin, shimmering sheet. This floated down, molded itself to her, and disappeared-leaving a very different woman in her place.

Her features were not as delicate as Basel remembered them, and time had dimmed her eyes and blurred the lines of her face.

Basel stared in disbelief at the faded image of a woman he'd thought long dead. Although he'd mourned her for over a dozen years, his heart did not respond to her with joy.

"Keturah?" he said, not quite believing it "That's what we wanted them to think, wasn't it?" Memory flooded back. "Of course! You're Keturah's friend, the lady who helped her escape a near capture!"

"Friend, yes," the woman said. Her lips twitched into a brief and bitter smile. "Lady, no.