"Welcome back, Captain Entara," the attendant chimed with a dutiful bow as Nadine entered her tent.

"Leave me. I'm not to be disturbed."

"Would you have a guard posted, captain?"

The commanding officer threw aside her travel cloak and pack. Metal gleamed in torchlight as she reached back with her left hand and drew Yanna, the famed longsword. She gave a wry smile. These men. Always thinking she needed protection.

"That won't be necessary."

Knowing better than to insist, the page humbly bowed and made his exit. Nadine wasted no time in removing the uniform and settling into the basin of bathwater already laid out according to her directions. Holding her breath, she melted into the warm liquid and felt it wash over her body, convinced there was no greater pleasure in this life. She may love being a soldier, but she hated smelling like one.

Renewed and alert after days without sleep, she stepped from the basin and hugged a delicate green robe to her body, fastening it at the waist. Her knee-length black hair obstinately clung to the fabric in matted tangles as she fought to work it into a loose braid. Why does everything in my life always have to be such a battle? As she stooped to retrieve Yanna, a shield caught her reflection. It had been so long since she had seen herself—the full lips, determined jawline, and that piercing left eye. She frowned at the makeshift leather patch haphazardly tied to cover the hole that used to complete the pair. It was a strong face, not beautiful. But then that had been her choice. Lifting Yanna with something of reverence, she began to sharpen the blade against a rotating whetstone in smooth, graceful movements. I have to call a military council. We must assign at least two units to the growing threat on the western frontier...leaving only five in the north...impossible...

Her eye scanned the tent with the precision of a trained scout. Just as I left you...Nothing but regulation issue: a simple cot, a hanging curtain for clothing changes, a couple of collapsible chairs, a field table. The General had asked her to accept a few additional comforts when she was promoted to a captain, but she had refused. The men fight for me because they respect me...and they respect me because I am one of them...Her eye paused at the water basin. In all honesty, that was not regulation issue. Surely they don't begrudge me that...I can't exactly bathe in the river with the rest of them...

A shadow moved against the tent wall. An intruder. I was followed? In one continuous movement, Nadine whirled Yanna around to the right, the blade stopping no more than an inch from her guest's unsuspecting throat. "Dorian."

His eyes turned from fear to laughter. "I thought that was your blind side."

"I don't have a blind side."

Dorian smiled. "I just wanted to welcome you back. We missed you."

"Dorian, this is my private tent."

"There was no guard. I thought you were still out," he offered quickly in an unsuccessful attempt to justify his intrusion—or at least convince Nadine to remove the sword from his gullet. "Don't worry, I just got here," he glanced around at the wash basin, "a few minutes too late, it appears. I brought food—thought you might want company for dinner."

With Yanna still held in position, she carefully studied this man who had fought by her side for so many years. His dark hair and bronze skin only served to further set apart the cloudy grey eyes. A long scar ran from his right ear down to the jawbone. She remembered the stomach wound he had taken in that battle, and the sleepless night she had spent worrying for him—alone in her tent so no one would guess her concern. Without his usual bulky battle armor, the fitted uniform hugged every powerful muscle. This man could crush her with one hand. But then, if she trusted anyone, she trusted Dorian. If she trusted anyone...

Nadine lowered her sword. "You are certainly persistent in a hopeless cause."

"Why hopeless?"

"For one thing, I outrank you."

Dorian gave a devilish smile. "Actually...that's my favorite part."

Just as Nadine was beginning to surrender to a smile now creeping across her face, the knocking stone of her tent sounded.

"Enter," she replied, grateful for the intrusion.

Her attendant pulled back the tent opening and stepped in with his trademark bow. "Excuse me, Captain. There's a woman here to see you."

"A woman?" She flinched at the unusual word. "A civilian?"

"Yes, captain. Miss Fallant."

Nadine turned to Dorian, who shrugged his shoulders in response. With a slight nod of the head, she indicated the drawn curtain of her wardrobe as an ideal eavesdropping point and Dorian obediently concealed himself.

"Show her in," Nadine ordered.

In moments, the attendant was replaced by a dark figure completely veiled in a hooded cloak. Nadine sneered at her guest's obvious attempt at secrecy. "You were already announced, Orea. I don't think you need worry about being recognized." An elegant hand emerged from the cloak and drew back the hood, revealing a hypnotically beautiful woman with short blonde locks and bewitching eyes. Men would kill to know the secrets of those soft red lips. Some even had.

Nadine was unimpressed. "What do you want?"

"Now is that any way to greet an old friend?" Orea asked in a low, sultry tone.

Nadine smiled with mock pleasantry. "I didn't think anyone from Mosfin even knew the location of a battlefront," she jabbed.

"We make military contributions," Orea argued.

There was an uncomfortable pause. Nadine broke it. "What do you want?"

"I was sent by House Mosfin for diplomatic reasons. An ambassador, if you will."

Nadine gave a sarcastic grunt. "What—-they couldn't spare a real politician?"

Orea sighed in frustration as she realized that her normal tactics would avail nothing in the current situation. She dropped her seductive voice and stance, unceremoniously sat down in a nearby chair, and looked up to face Nadine directly in her solitary yet penetrating eye. "We need your help."

Nadine couldn't think of another sentence that would have surprised her. "Help? From the Veterans. That means it either requires some muscle or is too messy to dirty your hands with."

"Neither. Actually, what it requires is neutrality." With a fluid flick of the wrist, Orea spectacularly revealed a small gold object. Nadine maintained a blank stare, obviously unwilling to indulge her old friend's flare for the dramatic, until Orea felt it necessary to explain. "It's a ring."

"Yes, thank you, I see that."

"An engraved ring, Nadine, emblazoned with the Bluefane insignia."

"And?"

"And it was recovered yesterday morning in Strom's Tower. Next to Lord Perinfall's bloody corpse."

Nadine fought back a startled gasp. "Lord Perinfall. The First Minister."

Orea gave a half-smile. "Technically the election hadn't taken place yet...but yes. Obviously if Mosfin were to come forward with this allegation it would appear to be politically motivated."

Nadine nodded cynically. "I see. So you want me to abandon my army at the battlefront and march into a city investigator's office to show him a ring."

"Darling, you and I both know there is no reason to involve the city officials in this." Nadine's eyebrows raised. Orea stood and calmly walked toward her friend with all the cunning seduction of a snake. She took Nadine's hand in hers, then enclosed it around a heavy purse. Leaning forward, she whispered in Nadine's ear, "Just tell us whose it is."

Seemingly without movement, Nadine drew a dagger from nowhere and pressed it against the snake's low bodice. Orea took a few steps backward, evidently deciding to maintain her distance. The knife again disappeared. "Why look for an outsider? Surely there are enough bored mercenaries within Mosfin to fill the part."

"Well...maybe we do need a little muscle."

Nadine gave a knowing smile. "And maybe you don't want to get your hands dirty."

The captain held Orea's stare for a moment longer, then shrugged off the entire situation. She walked toward the makeshift field table, dropped the heavy purse to the music of many coins, and began to absent-mindedly look through a few military documents. "As much as I would love to further the position of House Mosfin...and use the extra money to add a few evening gowns to my wardrobe...I'm afraid I am a ranking captain in the Veteran's forces and therefore my responsibility keeps me here at the front. I suggest you take the matter up with the General."

"I did. He sent me to you."

The composure Nadine worked so hard to maintain crumpled as easily as the papers in her hands. "The General. Sent you to me." Orea gave a single nod of the head. Nadine knew when she was conquered. She extended a hand to the beautiful serpent and softly mumbled, "...the ring."

Orea was all confidence and sultry smiles, dropping the gold trinket into the soldier's expectant hand. She gave a flirty toss of the head and reached out to caress Nadine's face, touching the small leather eye patch. "I love this accessory. Very rugged. Darling, you're not still upset with me over Bellock's little humiliation, are you?"

Nadine's eye narrowed with hatred. "You nearly ruined our entire family...and single-handedly brought him to disgrace."

Orea gave a whimsical sigh. "He wasn't really complaining at the time..."

Nadine forcefully grabbed her at the wrists. "I keep waiting to hear that you have drowned in your own poison."

Orea pulled away with surprising force. She gave a light laugh, threw the hood over her beauty and turned to leave, stopping only at Nadine's voice.

"One more thing. Out here I'm a respected soldier and an officer..." Her voice faltered—a rare occurrence. "But within the city walls I'm nothing. I have no political influence."

Orea gave an understanding nod. "Use the gold. We will compensate you."

"Money only goes so far. In my experience, men don't like taking orders from women."

Orea looked surprised. "Really...in my experience, they quite enjoy it." She flashed one more alluring smile, blew Nadine a kiss, and slithered away.

The anger festered inside Nadine until she felt that familiar need to hold a blade in her hand. She stormed to the whetstone and recommenced the sharpening of her prized sword. A footstep. Nadine whirled around and Yanna was again within inches of her guest's throat.

Dorian blinked. "Please stop trying to kill me."

Nadine lowered the sword in embarrassment and mumbled the explanation, "I forgot you were here." The conversation Dorian had just witnessed played over and over in her head. Nadine could not recall a single instance in which she had battled Orea and actually won. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"I'm not." Dorian's roughish smile revealed he had enjoyed watching the exchange. "You don't respect Miss Fallant's career choice?"

"Respect isn't the word I would use."

"That surprises me. She's attained her position in essentially the same way you have attained yours." Nadine's eye pierced Dorian until he couldn't suppress a laugh. "I only mean...she's good at what she does."

She felt a sudden pain at the words. "And now you're speaking from your experience?"

"Give me a little credit." Dorian's eyes traced Nadine with something of longing as she placed Yanna on the table and settled dejectedly into a nearby chair. He knew every movement, every line of her body. And he knew something was wrong. "What is it?"

"Don't you see what's happening?"

Dorian got the sudden impression that he had overlooked an important part of the conversation. "What?"

"The General sent her to me."

"...I think I'm falling behind..."

"Do you know where I've spent the last few months? Patrolling the western border like a first-year scout. The General has removed me from any active combat and kept me away from a command position with my own battalion. Now he offers me out as a common bounty hunter. Without even the decency to issue the assignment as a direct order. I'm being retired."

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it? For one reason or another, he is no longer confident in my ability to lead his men. He wants my resignation."

Dorian fought back the possibility in his own mind. He marched toward the tent wall and indicated the red and gold banner hanging in a position of honor. "What is this, Nadine? What does it mean? Hero of the Crown. Don't expect me to admit this to anyone else, but I don't know if I could have done what you did at Bredsford." Nadine was unaffected. Dorian grabbed a corner of the banner and shook it to emphasize his point, though the action felt almost like sacrilege. "They don't exactly hand these out at enlistment, believe me."

Nadine's full lips submitted to a sad smile. "I don't know...maybe I should resign. Maybe I'm finished."

Dorian shrugged off his growing frustration. "You know what you are? Tired. Get some sleep, and forget all about this." He walked to the exit, turning just as he reached the tent opening. "By the way...I've been commissioned a captain."

A genuine smile warmed Nadine's face. She was almost beautiful. "It's about time. Congratulations."

"So you don't outrank me." He let his eyes pass once more over her before turning to go. "Just something to think about."

Some invisible force pulled Nadine to the tent opening after Dorian left. Looking out from her position on the hill, she could see him walk through the sea of scattered campfires below. A comrade recognized Dorian and pulled him into the group with a toast and much back-slapping. Congratulations well deserved. Something of envy struck Nadine as she thought of all the nights she spent alone in her tent while the men talked and drank below. She was a shrine, not a buddy...always a little on the outside. Still she had called this place home from the moment she could lift a blade. The only place she had ever called home. Turning inside the tent again, her eye glimpsed the coveted banner. Usually a source of pride and encouragement, now it seemed only to mock her. Before she could realize what she was doing, Yanna suddenly swung in anger and there remained only a few tattered red and gold rags on the dirty ground.

"So how we ‘sposed to know which one of ‘em done it?" Merion grunted as he scanned each passing Bluefane in the political forum's growing crowd and ran a hand through his greasy, shoulder-length red hair. His blue eyes hovered over permanent dark circles, low nostrils, cruel lips and a pointy chin. Several scars won in battle, as well as other less noble pursuits, served to make what already would have been an ugly face even uglier.

"I'm not so sure one of them did," Nadine replied. "We just need to find out which one is missing some jewelry."

They were standing in an open courtyard nestled between four structures and dotted with political monuments and statues. Facing them was one of the city's daunting political forums. Some fifteen or twenty steps culminated in the building's large porch with two towering columns and a domed roof. The immense doors, easily the height of four men, were always left open during daylight hours and guarded by two city patrolmen. Long, slender cathedral windows, almost as large as the doors themselves, lined the entire front of the building. The crowd seemed unusually numerous today—filling almost half the courtyard and apparently awaiting some kind of address from the forum porch. Patrolmen nervously mingled among the citizens and formed a dense half-circle at the bottom of the steps, blocking entrance to the political forum itself. Nadine didn't remember seeing so many armed guards on her last visit to the city.

Her fingers fumbled around the inside pocket of her travel coat unsuccessfully, and she turned to Merion with an impatient sigh. "Where's the ring, Merion?" Merion feigned innocence, then reluctantly reached into his belt pouch with inch-long fingernails that were more like claws to retrieve and surrender his prize. Nadine reclaimed it cheerfully. "You were much better that time—I didn't even notice when you swiped it. And from an inside pocket. Impressive." Not wanting to attract attention from bystanders, she led Merion to a secluded back corner of the courtyard and returned her attention to the gold ring. "Now...do you notice any distinguishing characteristics?"

Merion stared at the shiny metal lined in gemstones occupying almost a quarter of Nadine's palm. "Hugest thing I ever saw. Gotta be worth at least forty bellas."

"And not just the weight," Nadine added. "Look at the diameter. Whoever he is, he's not what you would call dainty..."

Before Nadine could finish her thought, the crowd let out a deafening roar. Her gaze swept to the forum porch and met with the obvious cause for such a disturbance. Duke Liban. A larger-than-life presence, in every sense of the phrase. His rotund body was clad in more than enough finery for a king, much less a duke. He had just emerged from inside the political forum with an entourage of Bluefane officials, but his horrified look gave the impression he was on the point of turning back again. The city patrol fought with all their strength to keep the crowd back, and courtyard occupancy seemed to more than double in a matter of moments. "Well that was too easy," Nadine joked as she returned the ring to her pocket.

"We can't exactly go accusin' that one, captain. I mean, we gotta know."

The crowd's taunting grew in intensity, picking up a distinct chant of murderer! Nadine shrugged. "I don't know...seems like now is the perfect time for open accusations. Besides, think of it. Liban is Bluefane's forerunner for First Minister, and the people had obviously already decided on Perinfall. He had more to gain from Perinfall's murder than anyone else I can..."

"What?"

"His ring. Notice it's on the smallest finger. Most every house official wears their insignia ring on the index finger, for convenience in sealing letters and documents. Besides...if the duke had misplaced his ring, what would be the odds of Bluefane being able to find a large enough replacement?"

"So he killed Perinfall."

"I didn't say that." Nadine hopelessly scanned the dense horde of citizens and armed patrolmen separating them from Duke Liban. "There's no way we can get through there."

"There's one way," Merion drew his knife with a cruel smile.

"Put that away. This isn't a tavern brawl."

"You sure ‘bout that?" A sickening crack echoed through the forum as a city patrolman's club crushed against the arm of a rowdy bystander. Suddenly, the mob surged forward over the patrol barricade and scaled the forum steps, attacking the Bluefane officials in one violent mass. Clubs and sticks flew. A few blades that had been successfully concealed from the courtyard's security were drawn. The multitude continued to press forward without any organization, spilling into the political forum itself and crushing countless people underfoot. Nadine climbed a nearby monument in a desperate attempt to determine the duke's fate, but could make out only confusion.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream broke through chaos. The crowd collectively began a mass exodus from the courtyard. As the area cleared, Nadine's sharp eye caught a glimpse of the duke...lying face down on the forum porch in a pool of his own blood.

She jumped down and grabbed Merion's arm. "Let's get out of here," she shouted as the flow of traffic forced them from the courtyard.

He grunted under the crushing tidal wave. "Don't think we have a choice..."

"Can I help you?" the haggard desk clerk at city headquarters asked, looking like he could use some help himself.

"I need to see the patrol sergeant," Nadine replied.

"He's not seeing anyone today, as you might expect," the clerk responded without eye contact.

"Let me rephrase," Nadine chimed sweetly. Several coins hit the desk with insistence. "I need to see the patrol sergeant."

"Third door on the left."

Nadine stalked silently down the narrow hallway to the appointed door and entered without knocking. The astoundingly small room was barely large enough to accommodate an undersized wooden desk for the sergeant. He looked younger than Nadine expected, even younger than she. That is, his light blonde hair and beard were youthful, but his sleepless eyes and deeply lined forehead and mouth seemed to have seen a few more decades. He might have been surprised at her intrusion, but then he'd already decided nothing else could surprise him on this particular day. Instead, he gave a frustrated sigh. "Who let you in?"

"I thought you might be interested in information regarding Perinfall's assassination."

"Sweetheart, considering our current situation, I'd be interested in information regarding any number of assassinations."

"I have a personal article recovered at the murder scene..." Nadine began, satisfied to notice she had peaked the sergeant's interest, "...which I will surrender to your custody in exchange for information on Duke Liban's murderer."

If possible, the sergeant appeared to be even more exasperated. "Look, partly to humor you, and partly because I don't have the energy to call security, I'll tell you everything we know. We've determined he was stabbed in the back by an individual who was most likely seeking political revenge. As you might guess, that narrows it down to several thousand suspects."

"There was nothing unusual?"

The sergeant hesitated. "Since when is the military involved in civilian investigations, captain?"

"You know who I am."

"Everyone knows who you are."

Nadine hadn't before considered the possibility of being recognized out of uniform. She couldn't even recognize herself. "The General just wants to keep abreast of important developments."

"Well, to tell you the truth, I don't think much of the General. I won't surrender investigative information to stubborn codgers who can't recognize where their jurisdiction ends."

Nadine debated whether this battle was even worth fighting, then determined what little information the sergeant possessed couldn't possibly merit the hassle. She turned to leave.

"But I will surrender investigative information to you." Nadine turned with a questioning expression and was met with the sergeant's admiring smile. "My brother was at Bredsford," he explained, then cleared his throat for business. "The truth is we don't know much. However, we did recover a holy Kalimite relic clutched in the Duke's hand, some kind of blue crystal with an eagle crest...I thought that was interesting."

"Why?"

"He wasn't exactly a religious man."

"I see." Nadine extended her hand. "Thank you."

The sergeant wrapped her hand in both of his and gave an affectionate squeeze. "Thank you."

Just before Nadine left, he called out to her again. "Oh...what was that personal article you recovered from Perinfall's assassin?"

Nadine reached into her cloak pocket only to find it empty, then smiled as she recalled Merion's scheming grin when they had parted company. "I seem to have misplaced it," she answered with a slight laugh.

Nadine gazed upward at the towering white stone of Ariam's Temple. Before her bubbled the fountain's crystal blue water. In the center of the fountain stood the statue of a Kalimite soldier, a drawn sword in each hand extending upward to the heavens. She feared this stone sentinel more than she feared most warriors of flesh and blood. With a deep breath she followed the pathway to the right and scaled the steps leading upward to a bridge. At the center of the bridge she turned to face the temple again. I guess even their entrance is so holy it can't touch the ground. Walking forward to the great doors, Nadine was acutely aware of Yanna hanging at her back and felt each drop of blood she had shed over the years. The stone eagles lining the roof above seemed to stare at her accusingly. Wonderful. If there was one place Nadine felt unwelcome, it was a temple.

She swung open the great doors with some effort, crossed the entryway, and was immediately met by a presiding deacon. He was an older gentleman with pure white hair and open, welcoming eyes. There was a softness in him that Nadine had not felt from a man in a long time.

"What do you seek here, daughter?"

Nadine shifted uncomfortably. Starlight reflected through the stained-glass roof with the beauty of heaven, and all she wanted was to run from it. "Actually I was wondering if you were seeking anything—a blue crystal bearing the sign of an eagle?"

The deacon's expression suddenly changed. "You have recovered such an item?"

"No...but I do know where you might find it."

"Daughter, you speak of a mystic relic blessed by Leshana herself. It is necessary for certain rituals. If you have any idea how we might regain--"

A shrill scream rang from somewhere inside the temple. Although Nadine was admittedly unfamiliar with religious practices, she doubted it was part of any holy ritual. The deacon ran around a circular walkway toward the central rooms with surprising agility, Nadine following at his heels. "It came from the inner sanctuary," he explained, throwing aside a silver curtain and entering the room in question. A trembling young woman in the floor-length, hooded garb of a novice stood frozen at the altar. Lying at her feet and facing upward, seeming to pierce the unseen realm of Kalim with his gaze, lay the motionless body of a frail old man.

"Archbishop Gleeson!" the woman exclaimed. "I just found him...like this. He won't move. I...I think he's dead." Nadine quickly dropped to her knees to examine the body. The distraught woman turned to her deacon for answers. "Perhaps the Goddess herself has taken him to the City of Light..."

Nadine interrupted. "Not unless Kalim's preferred method of exalting her followers requires a dagger to the back." The two worshippers turned their attention to Nadine. The body was turned face down and now revealed an irregular patch of dark purple blood slowly expanding as it soaked the archbishop's white robe. Nadine felt a pang of genuine empathy. "I don't see a weapon, it must have been removed..." Suddenly the captain's attention was drawn to a tattered piece of red cloth tied to the victim's forearm. Removing a knife from her belt, she cut the band free and held it to the light.

"That doesn't belong to him," the deacon assured Nadine.

"I know it doesn't. This is a warrior band...a talisman in battle..." Nadine slowly turned the red cloth until she could make out the insignia. "...the sign of the bear."

It hit her like a shattered lance to the eye. Without a word, Nadine ran from the inner sanctuary, around the circular walkway and past the temple's great doors. She bounded across the bridge and scaled the downward steps five or six at a time. How long do I have? Not long...Life reeled around her in fleeting images. Dark streets and sparsely lit lamps. Closed doors. The city was asleep. Nadine felt confusion as she ran through a strange land in the dark with only thoughts of what she might find in the end...but she knew where she was going. She had a firm resolve and determination, a steady pace. After some time, an abrupt turn to the right brought her to a familiar sign: the Rusted Dagger. She threw open the door.

"Captain Entara, what brings you to the city?" the buxom barmaid asked in greeting.

Nadine had no time for pleasantries. "I'm looking for Levin," she gasped breathlessly.

"Just missed him. He stopped by earlier to--"

Nadine had already left. Standing alone outside the tavern door, she desperately tried to determine her next move. Where would he be? It is a horrible, helpless feeling to not know where you should go, yet still feel you need to get there. She took a few trance-like steps in no particular direction. Where? Hurry...

An abrupt rattling noise in the tavern's adjoining back alley caught her attention. She drew Yanna almost without thought and turned into the narrow, secluded passage. The sudden stench of garbage and death almost choked her. Despite the soft night air, she felt something evil...somewhere close by...Her eye narrowed like a cat to pierce the darkness until she saw him. Dropping to her knees she cradled his head in her lap as he struggled for what she knew would be his last breaths.

Even in the blackness Nadine could make out the childlike face for which she had mercilessly teased him when he first enlisted. He was a pretty boy...just a boy...She fought to keep her voice even. "Levin...it's alright..." The warrior inside Nadine melted away and left only a woman. She felt the same suffocating heartbreak that she had known too many times before as she held a dying comrade on the battlefield. She could feel his blood slowly seeping up her cloak...stabbed in the back...warm tears fell down her cheeks and off the tip of her nose and chin. "Who did this..."

Levin was beyond speech. With the last effort of a dying man...a dying boy...he raised his arm to clutch an object at his throat. A silver medallion in the shape of a rose.

Nadine stood before her employer in the elaborate receiving room with an arched roof and large crystal chandeliers. The precious blood still soaked her worn travel cloak. Orea could discern by Nadine's sleepless eye and stooping posture that the soldier was dirty, aching, exhausted...and growing impatient. Lying back on the blue velvet sofa, Orea reached over to a fruit dish on the side table and casually placed another plump red berry into her mouth. The revealing silver gown clung to every curve and shimmered in the candlelight, bestowing on her an ironically angelic aura. Nadine watched her rival's graceful movements with a combination of hatred and awe, then gave another frustrated groan.

"Orea, for the last time, Duke Liban was not responsible for Perinfall's assassination. Think about it. The Duke stabs his political rival in the back...himself...then painstakingly removes his ring and leaves it behind as evidence?"

Miss Fallant gave a bored sigh. "Nadine, it's over. We no longer require your assistance. Go back to the front."

"I can't."

"Why not?" Orea questioned, though she didn't actually seem to care.

Nadine approached the sofa with the strong, determined step of a warrior. I can't lose this time. "They were all murdered by the same hand...probably the same weapon. Now the murderer has me trapped inside some kind of sadistic scavenger hunt..."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I can feel him laughing at me. Can't you see what's going on? Mosfin blames Bluefane who accuses Kalim who points to the Veterans. The only agenda this assassin has is chaos. He's trying to turn the city against itself."

Nadine dropped the silver medallion to the side table with a loud clink. Orea slightly jumped. "Where did you get that?"

"I think it belongs to the next victim...a twisted clue. I know this will never stop until I reach the killer's target before he does." Orea maintained her silence. "Look, you win, Orea. I'm not on your payroll anymore, and I don't have to answer to any of you...but I'm staying to see this thing through." She marched toward the door.

"Darling, don't leave this way...at least stay for dinner..." Orea pleaded with sudden warmth.

Nadine snapped back in disbelief, "As much as I sincerely enjoy your company, I really don't have the time for a leisurely chat." She turned again for the door. Orea followed persistently, softly touching the soldier's arm to hold her back.

"Nadine..."

The pleading tone of her voice struck a note Nadine had never heard before. She turned in curiosity to witness the moment when a confident manipulator melted into a frightened little girl. Orea's voice came in a tremulous whisper.

"...the medallion is mine."

Orea lit the candle sitting on her armoire. A faint, somewhat eerie light shone upward on her face as she sat before the mirror, casting disturbing shadows across her features. I look dead. She shuddered at the thought, and glanced around her bed chamber in hopelessness. It was no use—she wasn't sleeping tonight. Part of her was surprised she hadn't literally fainted from the pure, undiluted fear that seemed to pulse through her body.

And Nadine had left her. Alone. She supposed she could understand why, but this wasn't some petty argument over family dignity or whose lover was whose first. It was life and death. Orea suddenly felt her own mortality...her lungs filling with air...her heart pumping. It all seemed so frail.

A slight gurgling sound rang in her ears. Someone's throat being cut. She turned toward the door and understood everything. Just outside, her guard was gasping as the precious life flowed from his body...and she would be next. This was how she ended. Somehow she felt only a calm, surreal stillness as the door to her chamber opened slowly. It was over.

A sudden crash of falling furniture broke the spell. There was some kind of skirmish, but Orea could make out nothing in the darkness. The fight ranged from one end of the room to the other, punctuated by the clash of blade on blade. Orea hid behind the armoire, silently praying for the first time in her life...a child's simple prayer...Just let the good guy win...

And silence. A figure slowly approached in hazy candlelight before the huddled child. Nadine...and Yanna...both covered in blood. Orea rose to her feet in disbelief. "You came back."

"I never left," the warrior clarified. There was something in her expression and manner that was new and majestic to Orea. "...but I am leaving now."

Nadine turned to go. Orea desperately followed...she felt she needed to say something, but couldn't find her voice...or a clear thought. Suddenly she fell to the floor over a hunched and sticky form that could only be her attacker. Fumbling to her feet, she peered down, eyes adjusting to the darkness. "We have to find out who he works for. I mean, who he worked for..." Orea miraculously held down the bile rising in her throat as the scene below her clarified, "...when he was in one piece."

"You have to find out who he worked for...I was hired to deliver Lord Perinfall's assassin. And I just did." The door creaked open. Nadine was gone before Orea's trembling voice could find the word...

"Thanks."

"How did you get past my guard?" the General demanded, looking up from a long wooden table now clouded in papers.

"Guess it's time to consider forming a new guard," Nadine suggested. She beamed a smug grin that revealed satisfaction at once again proving her merit to the General.

The War Council Room at military headquarters whispered to her of many memories. She rarely visited now...only on her occasional trip to the city...but she remembered the strong dignity of this room through the eyes of a small girl. Walking slowly around the table, her fingers dragged along the wall, reminiscing. Her father had shown her these maps. Together they had planned many campaigns and invasions. Whenever he convened a meeting with the captains, she was always sitting at his feet, devouring every word. He was the one who had given her Yanna...a gift on her 16th birthday.

"Did you find Perinfall's murderer?" the General's booming voice broke through her reverie. She turned to face him. Even seated, he seemed to tower over her—a fact owing both to his large build and a strong, commanding presence. The raven hair now sprinkled with white cascaded in slight waves to his broad shoulders. His features all fell into place like a unit standing at attention...dark eyes, a perfectly-proportioned nose, a heavy-set mouth and jawline. Strong despite his years—or maybe because of them. He was a statue, a chiseled god.

"In other words, how went the bounty hunting?" she said with ice. The General flinched somewhat. "Sir, permission to speak freely..."

He gave a slight laugh. "Don't you always?"

"Are you looking for my resignation?"

The General shifted in his chair somewhat and set aside the documents in his hand. "Nadine...I'm looking for you to live your life out in peace. You've earned it."

She walked calmly toward the table, stopping within inches of him. "What does that mean...I leave the front? An official retirement?"

"No. The men need you. You're...inspiring..."

Nadine gave a wry smile. "Thanks. So I'm like the official veteran mascot."

Frustration vented from the General in a slow exhale...but then he had known from the beginning that she would not understand. Slowly rising from his seat at the head of the table, he gently enfolded Nadine's hand in his. Not the typical method of addressing a soldier, but then she was not the typical soldier. "All I'm saying is...let others do the dirty work."

Nadine threw aside his hand and took a couple steps backward. "What dirty work? The fighting? The dying? This is the life you gave me—how did you think it would end? Hero of the Crown and a peaceful retirement?" With a sweeping gesture, she indicated the mapped walls and long council table. "All I know is this. Where am I supposed to go?"

Pitying her childlike desperation, he hugged her to him until the angry trembling stopped. Perhaps it was his fault. Had he chosen this life for her? "Go back to the front. Inspire your men."

She pulled away and challenged him with her resolute gaze. "What kind of inspiration do you think I will be hiding behind my father's uniform?"

She turned, leaving the maps and the memories. Her father was frozen in place, watching her go as he had on so many other occasions, always wondering if this was the time he would send her to her death. She paused just before the door. "Oh...one more thing before I go..." with a sudden turn, she hurled a knife end over end toward the General. It landed blade down on the table in front of him. "I found it on Lord Perinfall's assassin."

"It's gold..." he observed, lifting the weapon and turning it over in his hands.

"Check the crested hilt," Nadine suggested. He ran his fingers over a dark shield bearing the simple insignia of a smiling crescent moon. Realization dawned on him as Nadine nodded slowly. "That's right."

"They're back."

"Welcome, Captain Entara," her attendant offered in typical greeting.

"Leave me. I'm not to be disturbed."

"Yes, captain. Would you have a guard posted?"

"That won't be necessary." He exited with a submissive bow, and Nadine stared at the fresh bath water in relieved anticipation. She removed the travel pack, placed Yanna gently on the table in front of her, and began running her fingers through the long, black locks of hair. A footstep behind her. Without turning, her lips widened into a woman's smile. "Captain Dorian...this is my private tent."

"I know."