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She frowned, recognizing the answer as evasive. Marit had been wondering how Vasu was going to explain the dragons. One Patryn could not lie outright to another, but certain truths could be kept concealed. It would take a long time to explain the presence of the dragons of Pryan, even if he could.

“You are saying that these creatures come from your part of the Labyrinth, Headman?”

“They do now,” Vasu answered gravely. “You need not worry about them, Usha. They are under our control. They are immensely powerful and will aid us in our battle. In fact, these dragons may very well save us.”

Usha crossed her arms over her chest. She did not appear convinced, but to argue further would be to challenge Vasu’s authority, perhaps might be taken as a challenge to his right to rule. With several hundred Patryns backing him, obviously supporting him loyally, to do such a thing during this time of turmoil would be foolish.

Her stern expression relaxed. “I say again, you are welcome, Headman Vasu. You and your people and—” She hesitated, then said with a grudging smile, “these you call your dragons. As for saving us . . .” Her smile vanished. She sighed, glanced back at the fire raging in the Nexus. “I do not think there is much hope of that.”

“What is your situation?” Vasu asked.

The two leaders withdrew to talk. At this point, the tribes were free to mingle with each other. The Patryns of Abri advanced. They had brought with them weapons, food, water, and other supplies. They offered their own healing strength, to renew those in need.

Marit cast another worried glance at Alfred. He was, fortunately, keeping to himself and out of trouble. She noticed that Hugh had a firm grip on the Sartan’s arm. The gentleman in black was no longer anywhere in sight. Her mind at ease about Alfred, Marit trailed after Usha and Vasu, anxious to hear what they said.

“. . . serpents attacked us at dawn,” Usha was saying. “Their numbers were immense. They struck the city of the Nexus first. Their intent was to trap us in the city, destroy us there, then, when we were dead, they would seal shut the Final Gate. They made no secret of their plans, but told us, laughing, what they plotted. How they would trap our people in the Labyrinth, how the evil would grow . . .” Usha shuddered. “Their threats were terrible to hear.”

“They want your fear,” said Vasu. “It feeds them, makes them strong. What happened after that?”

“We fought them. The battle was hopeless. Our magical weapons are useless against such a powerful foe. The serpents hurled themselves bodily at the city walls, broke the runes, swarmed inside.” Usha glanced back at the burning buildings. “They could have destroyed us then, every one of us. But they didn’t. They let most of us live. At first, we couldn’t understand why. Why didn’t they kill us, when they had the chance?”

“They wanted you inside the Labyrinth,” Vasu guessed.

Usha nodded, her face grim. “We fled the city. The serpents drove us in this direction, murdering any who tried to elude them. We were caught between the terror of the Labyrinth and the terror of the serpents. Some of the people were half mad with fear. The serpents laughed and ringed us around, driving us closer and closer to the Gate. They picked off victims at random, increasing the terror and chaos.

“We entered the Gate. What choice did we have? Most of the people found the courage. Those who did not . . .” Usha fell silent. Lowering her head, she blinked her eyes rapidly, swallowed before she could speak again. “We heard them screaming for a long time.”

Vasu was slow to reply, his own anger and pity choking his voice. Marit could remain silent no longer.

“Usha,” she said desperately. “What of Lord Xar? He is here, isn’t he?”

“He was here,” replied Usha.

“Where has he gone? Was . . . was anyone with him?” Marit faltered, her skin flushing.

Usha eyed her, her expression dark. “As to where he has gone, I neither know nor care. He left us! Left us to die!” She spat on the ground. “That for Lord Xar!”

“No!” Marit murmured. “It’s not possible.”

“Was anyone with him? I don’t know. I couldn’t tell.” Usha’s lip curled. “Lord Xar was riding on a ship, a ship that flew in the air. And it was covered with those markings.” She cast a scathing glance at the wall, the Gate. “The runes of our enemy!”

“Sartan runes?” Marit said, in sudden realization. “Then it couldn’t have been Lord Xar you saw! It must have been a trick of the serpents! He would never fly a ship with Sartan runes. This proves it couldn’t have been Xar!”

“On the contrary,” said a voice. “I am afraid it proves it was Lord Xar.”

Angry, Marit turned to face this new accusation. She was somewhat daunted to find the gentleman in black standing near her. He was regarding her with deep sorrow.

“Lord Xar left Pryan on just such a ship. It was of Sartan make and design—a vessel formed in the likeness of a dragon, with sails for wings?” The gentleman glanced questioningly at Usha.

She confirmed his description with an abrupt nod.

“It can’t be!” Marit cried angrily. “My lord couldn’t have gone off and left his people! Not when he saw what was happening! Not when he saw that the serpents had betrayed him! Did he say anything?”

“He said he would be back!” Usha snapped the words off bitterly. “And that our deaths would be avenged!”

Her eyes flashed; she glared distrustfully at Marit.

“This may help explain, Usha,” said Vasu. Brushing Marit’s tangled, blood-encrusted hair from her face, Vasu revealed the torn mark on her forehead.

Usha gazed at it; her expression softened.

“I see,” she said. “I am sorry for you.”

Turning away from Marit, Usha continued her conversation with Vasu.

“At my suggestion, our people—now caught inside the Labyrinth again—have concentrated their magic on defending the Final Gate. We are attempting to keep it open. If it shuts—” She shook her head grimly.

“That will be the end for us,” Vasu agreed.

“The Sartan death-runes on the walls—so long a curse—now prove to be a blessing. After they drove us in here, the serpents discovered that they could not come through the Final Gate or even get near it. They attacked the wall, but the runes were one magic they could not destroy. Whenever they touch the runes, blue light crackles around them. They bellow in pain and back off. It does not kill them, but it seems to weaken them.

“Seeing this, we wove the same blue fire across the Final Gate. We cannot get out, but neither can the serpents seal shut the Gate. Frustrated, the serpents roamed for a while outside the walls. Then, suddenly, they mysteriously departed.

“And now the scouts report that other enemies—all the creatures of the Labyrinth—are massing in the forest behind us. Thousands of them.”

“They’ll attack from both directions, then,” Vasu said. “Pin us against the wall.”

“Crush us,” said Usha.

“Perhaps not,” said Vasu. “What if we . . .”

The two continued talking strategy, defense. Marit ceased to listen, wandered away. What did it all matter anyway? She had been so certain of Xar, so sure . . .

“What is happening?” Alfred asked worriedly. He had waited until she was alone to come talk to her. “What’s going on? Where’s Lord Xar?”

Marit said nothing. Instead, the gentleman in black answered. “Lord Xar has gone to Abarrach, as he said he would.”

“And Haplo is with him?” Alfred’s voice quivered.

“Yes, Haplo is with him,” replied the gentleman softly.

“My lord has taken Haplo to Abarrach to heal him!” Marit glared at them, daring them to refute her.

Alfred was silent a moment; then he said quietly, “My way is clear. I will go to Abarrach. Perhaps I can . . .” He glanced at Marit. “Perhaps I can help,” he finished lamely.

Marit knew all too well what he was thinking. She, too, saw the living corpses of Abarrach. Dead bodies transformed into mindless slaves. She remembered the torment in the unseeing eyes, the trapped soul peering out through its prison of rotting flesh . . . She saw Haplo . . .