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So we set out toward the north gate. Even carrying the staff that I had used so little over the past year, all I could sense was a vague confusion in the direction of the palace, even after we reached the gate.

The guards scarcely gave them a second look, although I did weave a light cloak around the sacks and packs.

When we reached Brettel’s I reappeared. It was still mid-afternoon, with the dusty dryness that comes when the crops are nearly all in and the grass has browned. In the unseasonable heat, I felt like I had been up for two days straight.

“You were here.”

“I said I would be.”

“Lerris?”

I turned to the approaching mill-master, feeling my legs tremble, and sat down abruptly before I fell, still holding the staff.

“You’re hurt!” Deirdre exclaimed.

“Just tired.” I glanced up at Brettel, who looked like an angry giant from my viewpoint on the ground.

“I should have known.” His eyes were focused on the black staff.

“All hell is breaking loose,” I added. Not only was I exhausted, but my speech was getting repetitious.

“What did you do?” The mill-master looked less than amused.

“Me? I just created a little order.”

Brettel snorted. “Get Destrin into the guest wing, the bed in the small room.” He was talking to Dalta, the blond vision.

Enough energy returned to my legs that I could stand.

“…Bostric will stay in the mill quarters with Arta, and Deirdre will sleep somewhere in the main house…” He turned to me. “What about you?”

I shook my head. “I need some food and rest, but staying here is too dangerous to you. Even being seen here isn’t good.”

“No one here will speak.”

“No one saw me come here,” I affirmed, leaning on my staff.

He looked both worried and relieved.

I waited until the others began to follow Dalta. Then I handed him what had been in the strongbox. “That’s Deirdre’s.”

He didn’t insult me by insisting it was mine or any such nonsense, just accepted it gravely. “Thank you.”

“Thank you. I regret having to leave so soon, but…”

“Now—” he began.

“Do you really want to know?” I asked. My voice was hoarse and tired.

He nodded.

“Antonin set up a fountain of chaos in the palace. They must have bathed the soldiers in it or something. That’s why…” I shook my head. I couldn’t explain exactly why the fountain had turned them into mindless creatures ready to follow any order, but I knew it had. That was why the officers stayed away. They had to think. Besides, they were already corrupted.

Brettel frowned. “You seem to think Antonin is evil, Lerris.”

Was a goat stubborn? “Yes.”

“Does that make the autarch good? How do you know she isn’t worse?”

I nearly shivered right there, in the heat and all. Given the history of Candar, the legacy of Frven and the White City, it was a good question. And I didn’t know the answer. Finally, I shrugged. “If that’s the case, neither one is going to be very happy with me.”

Brettel smiled wryly. “I’m glad you feel that way, but I’m also glad you refused Deirdre. You’re either going to be very powerful or very dead before long.”

The sadness in his eyes told me which he thought it would be.

I slept the rest of the afternoon, although I had never been able to sleep in the light except when I was sick. But then, I’d never melded chaos and order before.

Deirdre woke me. She did it with a kiss on the cheek—a gentle one—then sat down at the foot of the bed—Brettel’s bed. Who his wife had been, I had never learned, except she had to have been beautiful and special.

“Will you come back?”

“Not unless you treat me like Brettel.”

“That will be hard.”

We both knew that.

“Would anything else be fair to Bostric? Or you?”

She kissed me again, lightly, as she stood up. “Supper is ready.”

By the time I washed, everyone was gathered around the big table—Dalta, Deirdre, Bostric, and Brettel. Destrin, they said, was still resting, but seemed fine, if pale.

The stew was good, the berry biscuits better, and the conversation nonexistent. It was time to go.

Deirdre, Bostric, and Dalta stood on