into a dead man’s words!” He drew his breath in slowly. “I
cannot believe you would do anything so … stupid! If I could
think of anything worse to call it, I would!”
“Coil. . .”
“No, don’t say another word to me! I have gone with you
everywhere, followed after you, supported you, done everything
I could to keep you safe-and now you plan to throw yourself
away! Just waste your life! Do you understand what you are
doing, Par? You are sacrificing yourself! You still think you have
some special ability to decide what’s right! You are obsessed!
You can’t ever let go, even when common sense tells you you
should!”
Coil clenched his fists before him. His face was rigid and
furrowed, and it was all he could do to keep his voice level. Par
had never seen him so angry. “Anyone else would back away,
think it through, and decide to go for help. But you’re not plan-
ning on any of that, are you? I can see it in your eyes. You haven’t
the time or the patience. You’ve made up your mind. Forget
Padishar or Morgan or anyone else but yourself. You mean to
have that Sword! You’d even give up your life to have it, wouldn’t
you?”
“I am not so blind . . .”
“Damson, you talk to him!” Coil interrupted, desperate now.
“I know you care for him; tell him what a fool he is!”
But Damson Rhee shook her head. “No. I won’t do that.”
Coil stared at her, stunned. “I haven’t the right,” she finished
softly.
Coil went silent then, his rough features sagging in defeat.
No one spoke immediately, letting the momentary stillness set-
tle across the room. Daylight had shifted with the sun’s move-
ment west, gone now to the far side of the little storage shed,
the shadows beginning to lengthen slightly in its wake. A scat-
tering of voices sounded from somewhere in the streets beyond
and faded away. Par felt an aching deep within himself at the
look he saw on his brother’s face, at the sense of betrayal he
knew Coil was feeling. But there was no help for it. There was
but one thing Par could say that would change matters, and he
was not about to say it.
“I have a plan,” he tried instead. He waited until Coil’s eyes
lifted. “I know what you think, but I don’t propose to take any
more chances than I have to.” Coil gave him an incredulous
look, but kept still. “The vault sits close to the base of the cliffs,
just beneath the walls of the old palace. If I could get into the
ravine from the other side, I would have only a short distance
to cover. Once I had the Sword in my hands, I would be safe
from the Shadowen.”
There were several huge assumptions involved in that last
statement, but neither Coil nor Damson chose to raise them. Par
felt the sweat bead on his forehead. The difficulty of what he
was about to suggest was terrifying.
He swallowed. “That catwalk from the Gatehouse to the old
palace would give me a way across.”
Coil threw up his hands. ‘ ‘You plan to go back into the Gate-
house yet a third time?” he exclaimed, exasperated beyond rea-
son.
“All I need is a ruse, a way to distract. . .”
“Have you lost your mind completely? Another ruse won’t
do the trick! They’ll be looking for you this go-around! They’ll
spy you out within two seconds of the time you …”
“Coil!” Par’s own temper slipped.
“He is right,” Damson Rhee said quietly.
Par wheeled on her, then caught himself. He jerked back
toward his brother. Coil dared him to speak, red-faced, but
silent. Par shook his head. “Then I’ll have to come up with
another way.”
Coil looked suddenly weary. “The truth of the matter is,
there isn’t any other way.”
“There might be one.” It was Damson who spoke, her low
voice compelling. “When the armies of the Warlock Lord be-
sieged Tyrsis in the time of Balinor Buckhannah, the city was
betrayed twice over from within-once by the front gates, the