“Thursgad?” Karigan asked.

“Hard to say, since he was in on old Mirwell’s original plot to replace the king with Prince Amilton. My guess, however, is that he’s not as culpable as, say, Immerez. We’ll see.”

Karigan nodded. Even though Thursgad, under Immerez’s orders, had hounded her halfway across Sacoridia a couple years ago in pursuit of the message she bore, she did not see him as evil.

“Word is,” the captain said, “he confessed freely about how he obtained the book, and undoubtedly that will aid his cause.”

Both Karigan and Mara awaited an explanation, but the captain gazed thoughtfully into space.

“Well?” Mara demanded.

The captain smiled. “Sorry. I’ve only heard pieces thus far, but it seems he stole the book from a pair of elderly ladies—sisters, he said—who lived somewhere deep in the Green Cloak. He described their manor house as very fine and full of wonders.”

A chill prickled up Karigan’s spine. Could it be? By the look on Captain Mapstone’s face, she had made the same guess at the identities of the two elderly sisters.

“You will—you will tell me when you hear more?” Karigan asked.

The captain nodded.

Thought of the Berry sisters brought to mind the portrait of Professor Berry back in Selium, and a ghostly moan of Liiibraaary. She dismissed it as her imagination at the time, but had the professor been trying to pass on a message? Then it occurred to her that if this were the case, he’d not been speaking of the Selium library despite the location of his portrait there, but of his own at Seven Chimneys.

It was not inconceivable that among his collections of arcane objects and books that he had somehow acquired the book of Theanduris Silverwood. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more it made sense to her, that of anyplace the book could have been hidden, Seven Chimneys was the most perfect location. Professor Berry had collected objects of arcane interest when most others shunned them.

Why hadn’t she thought of it to begin with? Why hadn’t she listened to Professor Berry’s message? She groaned. As much as she disliked dealing with the dead, she would do well not to dismiss their ghostly whispers as figments of her imagination in the future.

“She’s doing it again,” Mara said.

“Huh?” Karigan asked, glancing about.

“I’d say it was more a groan than a sigh this time,” Captain Mapstone replied.

Karigan furrowed her brow.

“We were just talking about Fergal’s new ability,” the captain continued.

Karigan sat up, now very attentive, wondering once again what she missed. “And?”

The captain smiled. “It’s been about twenty years since an ability like his has surfaced, according to our records.”

“What is his ability?” Karigan asked.

The captain’s smile deepened, and Mara chuckled. “If you’d been listening—”

“Please,” Karigan pleaded. “I’m listening now—I promise.”

“Very well. His ability has to do with being able to read the aural energy around magic users. It was a more useful ability during the Long War when Riders could pick out enemy mages and detect the type of magic they wielded. After the Long War, when magic users died out with the Scourge, the ability was not as useful. Any Rider who had it pretty much saw only the auras of other Riders.

“When Fergal saw the old woman in Mirwellton, he was definitely picking up on some nasty magic. If there are more magic users emerging now, I’d say that Fergal’s ability is going to prove quite useful.”

Karigan wondered about what he detected when he looked at her—darkness. Did it simply represent her ability to fade, or something deeper? He’d mentioned “dark wings,” and she didn’t like the sound of that.

Just then a knock came upon the door and a Green Foot runner entered the chamber. “My pardon, Captain,” he said, “but His Majesty summons you to the throne room.”

A look of disappointment crept across the captain’s face as she set aside her cup. “Duty never takes tea,” she said.

“I could go in your stead,” Mara offered.

“Not in your nightgown,” the captain replied. “I trust you two will stay out of trouble?”

“Yes,” Karigan said with fervor.

“No,” Mara said. “Leastways, I wouldn’t mind a little trouble. Life has been so dull.”

Chuckling and shaking her head, the captain left them.

Had Karigan been confined as long as Mara, she’d go batty, too, but seeing as she had had more than her own share of trouble of late, she reveled in the rest both Master Mender Destarion and Captain Mapstone had ordered her to take. It looked like Mara did her best to amuse herself during her confinement—a pile of books towered on the table next to her bed and the captain had brought her a fresh stack of paperwork. Not to mention she was frequently visited by her friends, lately, mostly by Karigan.

“Maybe we could switch places for a while,” Karigan mused.

“I said I wanted a little trouble,” Mara replied. “Not a whole heap. For heavens sakes your stories have been wilder than any in those novels Tegan picked out for me. I want nothing to do with white worlds or icky tombs, or rescuing noble ladies, for that matter. Although,” she added, “I wouldn’t mind meeting Damian Frost. And Lady. Is that really her name? She’s not a noble? If it was her name and she was gentry, we’d have to call her Lady Lady. ‘Hello, Lady Lady. It’s so nice to meet you, Lady Lady.’” Mara had taken on a sophisticated tone and sat poised with teacup held with pinky raised. “‘Would you like one sugar or two, Lady Lady?’”