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By Alma Alexander

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She had sensibly made Brynna from Miranei. March initially thought it dangerous, pointing an unerring finger to the place from which Anghara had fled; but then he saw the wisdom of it. It would have been nice to have made Brynna an exotic from Shaymir or from some seafaring family of Calabra, but Anghara knew little about either place, and her hesitations would have shown her as a fake within minutes to anyone who 48 Alma Alexander cared to probe the disguise. This way, nobody could trip her up on her story; she knew Miranei too well, even for one who had spent most of her short life immured within castle walls.

I may have found something,” he said diffidently. Sif stopped pacing, whirled in mid stride. ” he commanded. “There was a sudden flurry of departures in the wake of the first rumors of your coming, lord,” said Fodrun. “It’s hard to be sure. ” Sif rubbed his temples with his hands. “If she is there, the priests will never tell. And I cannot breach sanctuary with a raid. ” “But there is another way to find out. Not all who go into sanctuary go there for good. ” “What if a man sought sanctuary, a man who could learn from within who else the priests were harboring?

But Fodrun had seen Sif shy from it several times so far during their short partnership. It seemed to frighten him sometimes; it repulsed him always. He clearly saw it as something dreadful, inhuman. “Then Anghara could have it too,” said Sif, after a pause. “She may well be alive, but she’s out there somewhere biding her time, waiting until she comes into her power. ” “She is too young, Sight comes into its own only with adolescence,” Fodrun said. “In her own right, I don’t think she can be a threat, or even a factor in her own concealment.

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