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Exquisite pain coursed through her, and her body jangled like a marionette's, dancing convulsively upon some unseen master's strings. Her blood pounded so hard through her veins that she could hear her own heartbeat. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and foam dripped from one corner of her mouth. The torment was unrelenting and all-encompassing. Finally it stopped. Wulfgar removed his hand from her forehead and the glow disappeared. She was drenched in sweat, but otherwise felt unharmed.

"Rise and face your new lord," he said.

Vivian smiled as she stood up from the chair. She had never before felt so alive. Raising her arms over her head, she stretched her lithe body like a cat. Wulfgar saw that her gaze held nothing but adoration for him.

"Whom do you serve?" he asked.

"Only you, master."

"And which side of the craft do you cherish above life itself?"

"Only the Vagaries."

"Extend one arm. I must be sure of my work. Do not be afraid. I will temporarily enhance your vision, so that you might see what I see."

Vivian held out one arm. Narrowing his eyes, Wulfgar caused a small incision to form in the soft underside of her wrist and a single blood droplet to well from it. The droplet hovered in the air and immediately began to twist itself into her blood signature.

As she watched it revolve before her eyes, Vivian gasped. Her blood signature had been altered. It now tilted slightly to the left, indicating her new proclivity to practice the Vagaries.

Satisfied, Wulfgar caused the blood signature to vanish and the incision to heal. Vivian stared at him with rapt admiration.

"How is this possible, master?" she breathed.

"In truth, I cannot take the credit," Wulfgar answered. "Your conversion was accomplished via a little known but immensely powerful Forestallment, handed down by Failee, Wigg's deceased wife. Ironic, wouldn't you agree?"

Vivian nodded.

Wulfgar explained her new role as his spy here in the Redoubt. He taught her how to mask her blood signature with an image of her old one. He told her who Bratach was, and described his role in their cause. And he taught her how to use the grains of wheat to leave secret messages in the fountain. Satisfied, he had then taken his leave of her to go to the palace roof to confront the Orb of the Vigors.

Wulfgar had not succeeded in polluting the orb that night. But upon reading the first message left for her by Bratach, Vivian had been overjoyed to learn that her new master had survived, and that he would soon return.

Setting aside those memories, Vivian turned another corner to find herself in the roundabout, where the indigo of the coming night played deftly upon the fountain and its dancing waters. She walked to it and sat down upon its edge.

This time she didn't have to wait for the traffic in the roundabout to lessen. There was no one there to see her take the grains of wheat from her pocket, or notice the narrow bands of azure escaping from between her fingers.

The azure slowly died, and Vivian placed her hand into the water.

CHAPTER LIII

As the door hinges creaked, tyranny realized her mistake. In their haste to prepare an ambush for the approaching demonslavers, she and her little band had neglected to drag the dead slavers along with them. The monsters they had killed still lay sprawled across the stone room.

As soon as they opened the door, the arriving demonslavers would surely see their fallen comrades, and any hope for surprise that Tyranny might have had would vanish in a flash.

Tyranny looked desperately at Scars. He grimly shook his head, telling her that it was too late to do anything about it. Swallowing hard, Shailiha raised her sword a bit higher.

Suddenly they heard a slaver call out, from somewhere along the guard path.

"You, there!" the voice shouted. "No rest for your group yet! Get back to your posts and stay on patrol!"

Still as death, the little war party in the stone room waited and listened. Then they heard some grumbling, and the door was pulled shut. The slavers' footsteps retreated into the distance.

Lowering her sword, Tyranny let go of the breath she had been holding. She closed her eyes for a moment. Then she looked over at Shailiha and winked.

Shailiha uncoiled a little and shook her head, but though she tried to scowl, she couldn't hold back a smile.

Placing one finger over her lips, Tyranny cracked open the door and peeked out. Then she shut the door and turned to the others.

"Those slavers are back on patrol," she whispered. "Now is as good a time as any to get going!"

Shailiha shot her a look. "Don't tell me you still mean to take us into the Citadel!"

Tyranny nodded. "Indeed I do! But we can't remain there for as long as I'd hoped. If these dead slavers weren't due to go on duty quite yet, it certainly can't be long from now. Once someone finds these bodies, this whole place is going to erupt. We have to go now!"

She opened the door and cautiously ventured out. The others followed silently. Glancing at the sky, the privateer winced. The clouds had departed, and the three red moons blatantly cast the invaders' dark shadows across the guard path.

Their only option now was to have the Minion warriors fly Tyranny, Shailiha, and Scars down into the courtyard.

K'jarr hoisted Tyranny into his arms. Then he suddenly froze, and his eyes widened. In the haunting moonlight, Tyranny could see the blood draining from his face.

"What are you waiting for?" she whispered urgently.

Letting go with one arm, he pointed out to the ocean. "Look! Perhaps now you'll believe me!"

Twisting around, Tyranny gazed out over the moonlit water, and her own eyes widened in terror and amazement. "Get us out of here right now!" she ordered. "Over the ocean, not down into the courtyard!"

Snapping open his wings, K'jarr took several running steps and launched himself into the air. The others followed.

But as the Minions' shadows rolled across the guard path, one of the distant, patrolling demonslavers saw them. He shouted an alarm. In mere moments the Citadel erupted into pandemonium as armed demonslavers began to pour out of the buildings below.

K'jarr started to carve out a turn that would take them all back to the litter, but Tyranny stopped him.

"No!" she shouted urgently. Removing one arm from around the warrior's neck, she pointed down to the sea. "Take us there! We must see this!"

Obeying at once, K'jarr changed course. As they watched, a large area of the sea roiled and burbled. Then a dark crow's nest broke through the waves. The Black Ships were surfacing.

Amid upheavals of dark seawater, all seven vessels burst from the ocean at once. As one, their black sails snapped open and the warships lurched forward, bounding across the waves.

Her mouth hanging open, all Tyranny could do was to hold on to K'jarr and stare at the vessels, awestruck. K'jarr stopped to hover, and the warriors carrying Scars and Shailiha came up alongside.

Each of the deadly looking vessels was easily five or six times the size of the Reprise. White-skinned demonslavers poured over their decks. In her current condition, Tyranny's flagship didn't have a chance of outrunning them, and the privateer knew it.

"Get closer." As she and K'jarr neared, Tyranny got her first glimpse of one of the Black Ships' skeletal captains. He rode the bow of his surging ship, holding on to the rigging with one fleshless arm. His bones were as black as the vessel that carried him. His tattered uniform seemed somehow familiar, but she couldn't place it. His eyes glowed with an eerie green; his teeth were white against the black of his skinless head. The moonlight glinted off the blade of the shiny sword he held aloft.

The nighttime sky began to glow with azure for leagues in every direction, turning night into day. Swiveling her gaze back toward the Citadel, Tyranny squinted against the brilliant light.

Two men and a woman stood on the shore. From this distance Tyranny couldn't identify the obviously pregnant woman in the red gown, or the fellow in the dark blue robe. But she knew the other man-the one in the emerald-green silk jacket and matching trousers. It was Wulfgar.