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39

? hundred forks of lightning lanced upward from the palace ramparts, brightening the sky even in broad daylight. A long string of noisy crackles echoed across the city roofs. The still waters of Lake Azoun turned the color of a flashing silver mirror, and the air filled with a smell like fresh rain. The display was followed by an endless chain of fireballs. They arced out from the walls one after the other, trailing stubby tails of black smoke and roaring like dragons, then plummeting into the water to a sizzling, hissing end.

"That will attract his attention, don't you think?" asked Tanalasta. She was standing beside Owden Foley, watching the display from Vangerdahast's private tower outside the palace. "Even the Mad King cannot be so distracted he fails to notice that."

"Or misses its purpose," Owden added darkly.

"I think the ghazneths have known what we're doing for some time now." Tanalasta winced as the baby kicked her kidney, then continued, "Suzara didn't come down until we made her think she could snatch Vangerdahast and run. We'll use a different gambit on Boldovar."

As Tanalasta spoke, a green aura of visible magic began to glow above the palace. Despite its appearance, it was actually a minor spell Sarmon the Spectacular had developed, designed to create a powerful ambience of magic with a minimum of mystic energy. Even if Boldovar absorbed the spell, he would find it about as satisfying as Vangerdahast would a glass of water, but of course Tanalasta did not expect the Mad King to fall for such an obvious ploy. Like every Cormyrean monarch since Embrus the Old, he had been a student of chess and would recognize a diversion when he saw it.

And when he saw the diversion, he would start looking for the thing they were trying to hide. Tanalasta stepped away from the window.

"Shall we get started, Harvestmaster?"

"If you insist," Owden said, "but I still think you should take Vangerdahast at his word."

"Only because you do not know him as well as I do." Tanalasta crossed to the far side of Vangerdahast's study, slipping through a dozen of Owden's Chauntean priests, and dropped into a comfortable reading chair. "He knew Rowen and I were married."

"Perhaps he knows you better than you think," Owden said. "After you met Rowen, one of his first concerns was that you would end up marrying 'a ground-splitting Cormaeril.'"

"Even if he were that perceptive, there is still the matter of Rowen's holy symbol and the dark face." Tanalasta propped her feet on a stool. Her legs ached almost constantly now, and she was looking forward to the day when there would be a little less weight for them to carry. "Instead of explaining, Vangerdahast shifted the onus to you. He's a master of such tactics."

"That doesn't mean he was hiding something," said Owden. "Perhaps he really thought I could explain."

"Can you?"

When Owden shook his head, Tanalasta removed Rowen's holy symbol from her neck and held it out. "Then let's bring my husband home."

Owden did not take the symbol. "And what if that wasn't Rowen you saw? Why would Vangerdahast lie about a thing like that?"

Tanalasta gave a scornful look. "Why do you think?"

Owden shook his head. "He wouldn't. Not even the old Vangerdahast would leave a man trapped alone back there."

"I love Vangerdahast dearly, but he's done far worse to 'protect' Cormyr," Tanalasta said. "What better way to handle Rowen? If a Cormaeril must be Royal Husband, then at least let him be kept out of sight-permanently."

Owden's gaze dropped. "You can't believe Vangerdahast would do such a thing, not after all he's been through."

"I find no other explanation of the facts before us," said Tanalasta. It occurred to her that she was sidestepping Owden's question as neatly as Vangerdahast had sidestepped hers, but it really did not matter. If the dark face was not Rowen's, she was determined to know that as well. "When there is only one way to interpret a set of facts, then it must