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Drul Kantar was accompanied by ogre guards, and Thorn saw many more of them as they marched through the curving halls. Thorn had encountered ogres before. During the Last War, the dragonmarked House Tharashk had brokered the services of monstrous mercenaries, and a small but significant population of ogre laborers still lived in Sharn and Wroat, where they used their great strength to haul vast weight.

Still, with the exception of a memorable battle in Sharn, she'd rarely been so close to so many ogres, and she'd never really noticed just how bestial they were. She'd always thought of an ogre as a large human, but with the chance to study one up close, she saw many differences. The arms of the ogre were far longer and bulkier than those of a man, while its legs were shorter. The knuckles of the creature brushed the floor, and if its hands were free, she'd almost expect it to move on all fours. Both of their ogre guards, though, carried heavy axes with long, jagged blades. Each ogre's head was a massive, wedge-shaped snout, almost half as large as its torso. Long, pointed ears and a mane of matted brown hair gave the creature a lupine look. Thorn could easily imagine the ogre dropping to all fours and howling at the night sky.

Drul Kantar was something quite different. His arms, too, were longer than his legs, but his bearing was more human. And despite the horns and the two short tusks rising from his lower jaw, Kantar's head was more like that of a man. He was even handsome, in a craggy, barbaric way. Thorn had recognized his nature by his size and blue skin; she'd heard stories from soldiers who had served on the Droaam front. She knew that Kantar was far more dangerous than his bestial cousins, but she knew little of his actual capabilities. She paused for a moment, slipping her arm away from Beren. As soon as the others were a few steps ahead of her, she drew Steel. Hiding the blade behind her back, she whispered, "Oni."

Ah! The origin of the oni remains a mystery, Steel whispered in her mind. He couldn't resist playing the role of sage. Despite the obvious physical similarities between the two species, onis are quite different from their mundane cousins. In addition to the formidable strength of the ogre, the oni possesses a host of magical abilities. Flight, invisibility, shape shifting, and the capability to heal from any normal wound within seconds are just a few of their powers. In addition, they are far more intelligent than trolls or ogres-or even humans. As a result, many take up the path of the wizard or sorcerer. This one has warded himself against divination, which means he has something worth hiding, and the ability to conceal it. Be careful.

At that moment, Drul Kantar stopped walking and turned to face her. Surely he'd just noticed that she'd fallen behind; no one could hear Steel's voice except Thorn.

"Is something wrong, young lady?" He sounded truly concerned; his voice was deep and soft.

Thorn slipped the dagger into its sheath and smiled at the blue-skinned giant, moving forward to rejoin the group. "I'm fine, Lord Kantar. I'm just not used to these tunnels. I felt dizzy for a moment. It's passed."

"I understand. You are a child of sun and Siberys, and you miss the air and open sky. My fellows and I are creatures of darkness, and we can forget how hard it is for you."

Thorn nodded as they began walking. "It's kind of you to meet us personally," she said. "If I were more suspicious, I might suspect that you were trying to curry favor with Breland."

"If that were true, I think we'd be in better quarters." Beren smiled to show that he was joking, but Thorn could sense tension in her companion. Kantar's earlier mention of Sora Maenya had set Beren on edge.

The oni chuckled. Thorn found it strange to meet a monstrous creature with such a pleasant voice. If she closed her eyes, she pictured a heavyset priest of Olladra, celebrating the Feast of Fortune with humorous tales and songs. Instead, the voice was owned by a beast who could take off her arm with a single bite.

"I intend to spend time with all the delegates. I've already shown the Thrane and Karrnathi envoys to the hall."

"Thrane and Karrnath?" Thorn said. "And you left them alone? Would you care to lay odds on which side is still standing when we arrive?"

Kantar's smile widened, revealing disturbingly sharp teeth. "Oh, they aren't alone. My ladies have called many of the warlords of Droaam to the Crag for this gathering. You'll see. But I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, lady. You are-?"

Beren stepped in to answer. "This is my aide, Nyrielle Tam."

"I see." The giant vizier paused for a moment to look at her, then glanced at Toli before he resumed his pace. "It's fascinating to see whom each nation chose to send. And I am sorry that you lost one of your men in that unfortunate attack."

"And what of that?" Beren said. "I trust you've learned something about the attack by now. Are we still in danger?"

"It is not my place to answer such questions," Kantar replied. "Tonight Sora Katra speaks with her own voice, and she will decide what is said. Be assured that the Daughters will not allow any harm to befall their friends."

"And are we friends?" Beren said.

"That's what this gathering will determine."

Beren stopped, and Toli stepped between the ambassador and the giant. "Let me make one thing clear," Beren said. "I am the voice of Breland in this place-your nearest neighbor and the mightiest of the Five Nations of Galifar. I am cousin to King Boranel, and I have fought at his side on the field of battle. Should anything happen to me, there will be dire consequences. Your gnolls knew to keep me alive, and I'm sure that you have the same orders. So don't play games with me, Drul Kantar. I have come here as a favor to your queens, to listen to their plea. We may stand in your castle, but don't think to threaten me. My death would cost you dearly."

The oni stared at Beren, and Thorn felt a faint charge in the air… magical power? Then he grinned, and the energy faded. The grin turned into a deep belly laugh. He raised a hand to Toli, whose sword was half-drawn from its scabbard. Thorn realized that she'd already drawn Steel, hiding the blade against her arm.

"Your lord is wise," Kantar said. "Sheathe your weapon, guardian. Yes, we seek the favor of all nations, but Breland is our neighbor and the foe we have fought before, and it is you we most hope to befriend. You are safe here, Beren ir'Wynarn. Enjoy our hospitality, and sleep soundly this night."

Beren gave a curt nod, and they began walking again. Thorn smiled. With the nerve to face down a giant, he'd be just fine without an aide.

The Daughters had spared no effort on the evening's feast. The hall was a spectacle of colors and sound, an overwhelming sight after the dull stone walls of the rest of the Crag. Sparks of golden light floated in the air, fey flames that drifted just beyond the reach of guests. A team of goblins darted around a central fire pit, preparing and distributing food. After a week of eating rabbits, the rich aroma of spiced meats and vegetables set Thorn's mouth watering. Tribex, gorgon, some sort of crustacean the size of a warhorse-there was enough food for an army, and it smelled delicious.

Long tables were set with Riedran crysteel, plates and goblets with the beauty of carved glass but the strength of iron. Music echoed through the hall, the work of a band of goblins in the far corner. The little creatures were producing a frenzied song on pipes, drums, and lute. A dancer accompanied them. Her skin was jet back, and as Thorn watched, flames seemed to dart across her flesh.

Skindancer, Steel whispered. Most changelings use their gifts to impersonate other living creatures, but when you can alter your body, there are many other possibilities.

The skindancer spun in place, and her hair flowed out from her body, taking on a brilliant red hue as it did, as if a cloud of fire had suddenly burst around her. The woman spun faster and faster as the music built to its climax. On the final note, her hair shifted to black and spun in toward her. From a distance, Thorn wasn't certain the woman was wearing clothes; it seemed that she had just painted patterns on her skin.