Cenedra stared across the desk at them with eyes as tired as Mitchell felt. The elf was probably close to two hundred years old, which gave her a face that looked like a youthful sixty. She had a delicate crow's feet framing golden-yellow eyes and laugh lines around a supple mouth. Her dark brown hair had a few lines of gray in it and Mitchell could also detect the slightest drooping in her pointed ears. Truth be told, she was the oldest elf he had met thus far and she was still attractive, in a cougar sort of way. In her hands, she held the three flax lilies which had been the only thing that had gotten her out of her bed at this pre-dawn hour.

"Gilriel said you would be coming, be it Stollar's will, and it seems it was. Faster than I expected, but we'll make do."

"Did she say when she would arrive?" Allora asked. "I don't know how much time we have before those that hunt for me locate me in the city."

"I expect she will be here within a day or two, with the others in tow."

"Do you know how many other knights will come with her?" Mitchell asked. "She wasn't sure how many would return."

"She told me to prepare space for six, so if they've all agreed to join you in taking back the city, that's what you'll have."

Allora inhaled in surprise.

"Almost a full squad."

Lethelin whistled.

"What can you tell us about the mood of the city," Mitchell asked. "Are people generally happy with how things are going?"

Cenedra snorted.

"Hardly. It wasn't so bad up until about a month ago. That's when they started checking everyone and everything that arrived. Looking for you, no doubt," Cenedra said with a grin aimed at Allora. "But that's put skitterbacks down everyone's pants and there have been more and more skirmishes with what passes for the city watch these days. Troops were brought in last week to help deal with the additional disturbances. Trade has slowed to a crawl, foodstuffs are rotting waiting to be shipped, merchants are near to rioting, and even the thieves have been getting fed up. They can't steal what's not there to steal."

"Sounds perfect for what we need," Mitchell said, smiling at their bit of good fortune.

Cenedra arched a dark eyebrow.

"What do you have in mind?"

"A distraction," he told her. "A very big distraction that I hope pulls enough people away from the palace perimeter so that we can get inside. Feel like lending a hand?"

Cenedra held up one finger, indicating he should wait. With her other hand she pulled open a drawer in her desk and took out a flask, which she promptly unscrewed and added to her steaming mug of spiced wine. Then she tossed it back and hissed. Her whole body shuddered.

"Stollar's balls!" she shouted as she settled back down and opened her eyes, which Mitchell could see now were wet with tears. "That will put some hair on your sack, no doubt about it!"

An acrid scent wafted across the desk and assaulted Mitchell's nose. For a moment he thought his sinuses had started bleeding and he sneezed violently. Then his eyes started to water.

"Balls," he croaked. "What is that?"

"Orcish ale," Cenedra said with a raspy laugh. "Puts fire in your belly and I think we're going to need it. Want a swig?"

She held it out to the three of them and Mitchell passed, as did Allora. Lethelin looked tempted, but in the end she declined as well.

Cenedra shrugged and put the flask back in her drawer.

"Alright then. Tell me what you need me to do."

***

About an hour later, with Mitchell's eyes burning from lack of sleep and his head throbbing, Cenedra told them they needed to rest.

"You'll be no good to anyone exhausted as you are. I'll take care of it from here. I'll have runners going at first light. You all get some rest. I have a warded bedchamber in the basement. It hasn't been used in a fair while, so give me twenty minutes or so that me and my girls can get it aired out and stocked with some fresh linens, so you'll have a warm bed to sleep in. It will be a little cramped with three of you, but it's what we've got."

"It will be fine, Mistress Cenedra," Allora said. "We are most appreciative."

"Mistress Cenedra," Lethelin said suddenly. "You mentioned runners. I wonder if you could see to something for me."

"I'm sure I can. What is it you need?"

"There is a young girl, about twelve high suns old, at a tavern in the Maka called The Drake Rider. Her name is Eraphys."

Mitchell turned then, looking at Lethelin, suddenly curious.

"Would you send a runner for her and bring her here? Tell the runner to tell her that Leth sent him and if she still has doubts, tell her that my pet shadow cat is getting hungry and I need her hand."

"Your pet shadow cat?" Cenedra said.

"It's a joke between us. And when she gets here, don't be shy about putting her to work if we're still sleeping. I'll talk to her when I get up."

"I'll see it done," the innkeeper nodded. Then she left to see to the room.

"Something you forgot to tell us?" Mitchell asked her.

"I... sort of adopted a stray. She tried to pick my pocket and I hired her instead. She set me on the path to Jonan."

Lethelin went on to explain the short encounter she'd had and, while Mitchell wasn't sure what they were going to do with a tween half-elf, he agreed that getting her out of the Maka and away from this Erik fellow was a good idea.

"So we will have two thieves now?" Allora said. "Wonderful."

"Oh, be quiet, you dried up reef carp," Lethelin said and put her weary head on Allora's shoulder and closed her eyes. "You'd have done the same."

"You cannot talk to me that way, dock rat. I am the..." Allora began but stopped mid-sentence for a powerful yawn. "I am the Lord Captain now. I could have you whipped."

Allora rested her head on top of Lethelin's.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," Lethelin mumbled, already half asleep.

Mitchell wasn't even sure Allora heard that last part as she was fading fast as well. He leaned his head back against the sofa, his right hand in Allora's, and smiled. He would just close his eyes for a minute. Cenedra would be back shortly and then they could get into a real bed.

***

"So that's the palace," Mitchell said, staring at the slightly opaque barrier across the parkland that filled the area from the end of the Cloud District to the Onyx Palace's main gate.

"That's it," Falen said, standing beside him.

"It's both bigger than I thought and also kind of smaller, too."

Falen grunted, but didn't comment. Instead, he studied the patrols of the city watch as Mitchell took in the sight. They began walking as casually as they could, trying to look like two gentlemen out for a stroll. Their attire didn't match very well as Mitchell was wearing his traveling gear and Falen was dressed up like an Awenorian dandy, with his tight breeches and somewhat foppish toga shirt again, but there were enough people that they didn't stand out. Even under occupation, business needed to get done.

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Feeling much better after a decent sleep snuggled up between Allora and Lethelin, Mitchell had met Falen in his carriage early that afternoon and they had traveled to the palace grounds as had been agreed upon the night before. Mitchell needed to get a lay of the land before everything was set into motion. They'd received a message from Gilriel that she expected to be in the city by the next morning, which Mitchell thought worked out well as it gave them some additional time to plan. Allora, sadly, was confined to that warded basement room as it sounded like they knew she was nearby, while Lethelin was seeing to her new charge, whom Mitchell had not yet gotten a chance to meet.

Falen had received reports from some of his people that squads had started moving into the city early that morning and street patrols had been increased, which indicated that they knew Allora had made it to the city. Any elfin woman with dark hair was stopped and questioned, and this further soured the mood of the citizenry. Thankfully, he was still an unknown. As much as he'd hated having to kill that squad in the forest the week before, he saw the wisdom of it now. This would have been much harder if he had had to hide from the patrols as well.

The palace was surrounded by thirty-foot high walls of onyx, which he supposed fit the whole motif. It was made of five foot-by-five foot blocks of gray stone veined with various different hues. He could make out silver, pale white, some cream colors, and what looked like blues and reds, all swirled together.

The main gate itself had a large and imposing guard station on the right-hand side and the huge metal doors, nearly two-thirds the height of the wall made of black steel. It was engraved with the figure of a man with his arms spread wide, and a tall nude woman behind him with her arms spread as well. When Mitchell had asked about it, Falen had said it was Lorivast, the first monarch, and the nude woman behind him was, of course, Awen. Mitchell had surmised as much as he'd seen her in that form when he had first received the heart stone, but had not been so sure about the man. From this vantage point Mitchell could see nothing beyond the walls, so the actual palace grounds remained a mystery.

The wall was not the most imposing structure, however. Granted, it was massive, and he could only imagine the difficulty in getting through it when it was fully defended by soldiers and casters, but what impressed him the most were the giant statues of pure black onyx carved into the barrier. Spaced every hundred feet or so and glistening in the afternoon sunlight, each one was different. Elves, humans, just about every race was represented by at least one statue, although he didn't see any cambions.

"What's the story with the statues?" Mitchell had asked Falen, as they'd made a circuit of the entire palace.

"They're called the Defenders," Falen said as they tried to keep a careful distance from any patrolling guards. "Each one is a likeness of either a monarch or a member of the Council of Eight, or a former Lord Captain of the Knights. The last one was added, oh, fifty or sixty years ago, after Travelor's successor died. You know about him, right? Allora's father?"

Mitchell nodded.

"He was a good Lord Captain. He tried to get Baylor in line, but ultimately the old whoreson succumbed to drink and sex and could barely be bothered to dress himself towards the end. I doubt the bastard will be getting a statue on the wall. Baylor, not Travelor."

They walked along a little bit more and Falen pointed out one.

"That one. Lord Captain Thurgulf Warbreaker. Ne Warbreaker, if you follow the regular naming convention, but not everyone does that. Humans and elves do, dwarves sometimes and orcs occasionally, but it varies from region to region. But the Defenders are supposed to come to the city's aid if it's ever threatened. It didn't seem to matter when Milandris showed up, though so take that with a fairy's promise."

Despite neither Mitchell nor Allora saying he was from off world, Falen seemed to have worked it out, and Mitchell made a mental note not to forget that the man was sharp.

"Why are all their eyes closed?"

"No idea. It does seem a strange convention, though, I'll admit."

Mitchell stared at the statue and noticed that Thurgulf did look a bit newer than the others. Like the other ones, each was done up in armor that looked similar to what he'd seen Allora wearing at Gilriel's when she'd been making her adjustments to her own set. As he studied the statutes while they walked, he could notice style changes or what appeared to be ornamentation that varied slightly from one statue to the next. All of them were carrying real weapons, though. At least weapons that had been resized for the statues. No normal-sized person could wield them. Even the statue of Thurgulf Warbreaker was nearly eighteen feet tall, if Mitchell had to guess, and he was on the shorter side as he was a dwarf.

They made a full circuit of the palace grounds, and it took the better part of two hours. Despite himself, Mitchell found that he was warming to Falen. He thought under better circumstances, they might have become actual friends. As it was, he found that he was hesitant to reveal anything more than he absolutely had to.

"You know," Falen told him as they walked out of earshot of a squad of several soldiers who were questioning a trio of women, one of which was an elf. "There was a bit of an uproar around my manor this morning."

"Really?"

Falen gave him a sidelong glance that was close cousin to a glare.

"It seems that my neighbor's prize jivi was eaten at some point in the night. It was a racing breed. Worth close to a thousand crowns."

Mitchell tried not to let shock show on his face.

"That sounds terrible," Mitchell said, as casually as he could manage.

"Guards were called. They brought in a caster, and even dragged a ranger in from somewhere who said it looked like a shadow cat attack. But that would be impossible, wouldn't it? A shadow cat, here in the city?"

"As I understand it," Mitchell said cautiously, "shadow cats are quite deadly. Unstoppable killing machines. If one was in the city, surely it wouldn't have stopped at just a single jivi."

"Indeed. It's just the kind of thing that could kill three armed and trained men if they approached it in the dark."

"Yeah," Mitchell said, nodding. "I think you're probably right. If there was one in the city," he added quickly. "But, as you said, that would be impossible."

"And, as I recall, you said that when it comes to a certain warrior woman we both know, that word doesn't mean much."

It was Mitchell's turn to glance at the crime boss, and he couldn't keep the grin from his face, this time.

"Still," Falen continued with a sigh of only mild frustration, "I suppose I should thank whomever or whatever did slaughter that arrogant ass's jivi for not doing the same to any of my guards or my gnolhounds."

Mitchell grunted his agreement, then added, "And, maybe rounding up some dohas or some athis and letting them run around your grounds would be a good way to show your thanks, also."

Falen arched his eyebrow again, which he seemed to be fond of doing.

"I'll see what I can do."

Much of the rest of the walk was spent discussing what Falen knew of guard tactics and their general preparedness level. Mitchell asked a lot of questions about civil disturbances in the past and if they were likely to have much experience in dealing with them. Falen seemed impressed by the quality of his questions.

"Are you a military strategist, or did you serve in the regional forces of this Jamka?"

Mitchell chuckled.

"Not quite. But I went through a phase when I was younger where I devoured a lot of military history from my… uh, from the lands around Jamka."

At last, they came full circle, arriving back at the palace's main gate. All of it awash in the pearlescent, slightly transparent shield that sparkled lightly as something small came into contact with it. Mitchell studied the open areas that, in happier times, served as a public park and garden but was now somewhat of a no-man's land that had been left to become overgrown and used only for patrolling groups of soldiers or city watch. Anyone who tried to enter the park proper was turned away immediately. Knowing he had as much as info as he could get at the moment, Mitchell probed at that connection between himself and Awen. It was something he didn't do often as he felt like it was a struggle for the elemental to focus solely on him. She had said that it was easier now that they were in Awenor, but he tried not to bother her unless he felt it was pressing.

"I don't suppose there are any secret passages underneath the palace that would let us sneak in," he asked Awen, once he felt that spark across their connection.

"There are not," she told him, almost mournfully. "In fact, the ground beneath the palace has been hardened over the years to make any attempts to tunnel beneath it or shift the ground as difficult as possible. A powerful transmutation magic user could do significant damage, otherwise."

Of course it wouldn't be that easy, Mitchell thought to himself.

"I am afraid I have some additional bad news," Awen added.

"What's that?"

"The barrier wards are failing. After our last discussion, I devoted considerable effort into examining them as closely as I could. It took many days for me to focus my awareness into the runes and the gemstones powering them. Between the occasional attacks on the barrier carried out by the forces in the city as they probe for weaknesses and the time it has been in place, it is near to failing."

"Well, we are here now. Hopefully I'll be inside the palace by the end of the day tomorrow and I can complete the ritual. Will they last another day?"

"Yes, but that is not the problem," she told him, and Mitchell could almost feel the hesitation in her voice. "It is likely that you passing through the barrier will bring it down."

Mitchell felt his stomach drop into his balls.

"Oh, fuck," he said aloud, which got Falen's attention, but Mitchell held up a hand to forestall any questions as he focused back on Awen.

"The plan was to pass through the barrier, hopefully with the girls, and make it to the throne room with the barrier still up," he told Awen, working hard to keep the panic out of his thoughts. "If the barrier comes down when we enter, we'll have every soldier in the city on our heels."

"I am sorry, Mitchell. There is no way for me to reinforce it. The barrier, in allowing you passage, has to weaken a section of itself to permit you through. So many runes have degraded and so many gemstones have burned out, that I do not think it would survive the power fluctuations as it tried to reestablish itself after you gained entry."

"Well, that would solve one problem, at least," he told her, trying to find something positive about the situation.

"What is that?"

"I had worried about the girls not making it through the barrier with me. But if it's going to come down anyway, they'll be able to join me in the palace."

"There is that, I suppose."

"We need to get back," he told Falen. "I need to talk to the girls. We have a problem."

The edrokii, not liking the dour look on Mitchell's face, nodded, and they headed back to where they had parked the carriage.

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