that the Valemen will not be forgotten.”
Padishar Creel’s smile was quick and hard. “Not for a mo-
meat. Not by me, at least. You are free to do as you choose in
the matter.”
He wheeled away, moving off into the trees. After a moment’s
hesitation, Morgan swallowed his anger and pride and followed.
Par came awake for the second time that day toward midaf-
temoon. Coil was shaking him and me smell of hot soup filled
the close confines of their shelter. He blinked and sat up slowly.
Damson stood at a pruning bench, spooning broth into bowls,
me steam rising thickly as she worked. She glanced over at the
Valeman and smiled. Her flaming hair shimmered brightly in
the shards of sunlight that filtered through the cracks in the
shuttered windows, and Par experienced an almost irresistible
need to reach out and stroke it.
Damson served the Valemen the soup together with fresh fruit,
bread, and milk, and Par thought it was the most wonderful
meal he had ever tasted. He ate everything he was given, Coil
with him, both ravenous beyond what they would have thought
possible. Par was surprised that he had been able to go back to
sleep, but he was unquestionably me better for it, his body rested
now and shed of most of its aches and pains. There was little
talk during me meal, and that left him free to mink. His mind
had begun working almost immediately on waking, skipping
quickly from the memory of last night’s horrors to the prospect
of what lay ahead-to sift through the information he had gath-
ered, to consider carefully what he suspected, to make plans for
what he now believed must be.
The process made him shudder inwardly with excitement and
foreboding. Already, he discovered, he was beginning to relish
the prospect of attempting the unthinkable.
When the Valemen had finished eating, they washed in a
basin of fresh water. Then Damson sat them down again and
told mem what had become of Padishar and Morgan.
“They escaped,” she began without preamble. Her green
eyes reflected amusement and awe. “I don’t know how they
managed it, but they did. It took me awhile to verify that they
had indeed gotten free, but I wanted to make certain of what I
was being told.”
Par grinned at his brother in relief. Coil stifled his own grin
and instead simply shrugged. “Knowing those two, they prob-
ably talked their way out,” he responded gruffly.
“Where are they now?” Par asked. He felt as if years had
been added back onto his life. Padishar and Morgan had es-
caped-it was the best news he could have been given.
“That I don’t know,” Damson replied. “They seem to have
disappeared. Either they have gone to ground in the city or-
more likely-they have left it altogether and are on their way
back to the Jut. The latter seems the better guess because the
entire Federation garrison is mobilizing and there’s only one
reason they would do that. They mean to go after Padishar and
his men in the Parma Key. Apparently, whatever he-and you-
did last night made them very angry. There are all sorts of ru-
mors afloat. Some say dozens of Federation soldiers were killed
at me Gatehouse by monsters. Some say the monsters are loose
in the city. Whatever the case, Padishar will have read the signs
as easily as I. He’ll have supped out by now and gone home.”
“You’re certain the Federation hasn’t found him instead?”
Par was still anxious.
Damson shook her head. “I would have heard.” She was
propped against the leg of the pruning bench as they sat on the
pallets that had served as their beds the night before. She let her
head tilt back against me roughened wood so that me soft curve
of her face caught the light, “It is your turn now. Tell me what
happened, Par. What did you find in the Pit?”
With help from Coil, Par related what had befallen them,
deciding as he did that he would do as Padishar had urged, mat
he would trust Damson in me same way that he had trusted the