“Karan?” yelled Lilis. “Wait!”

Karan reined in, swearing under her breath, then rode back. What with one delay and another it had been nine-twenty by the time they’d left Chanthed, and her nerves were as taut as fiddle strings. “What now?”

“Horse has gone lame,” said Ussarine, who had dismounted and was holding its front right hoof up in one hand while shining a lightglass on it with the other. “It’s picked up a spike.”

“Can you get it out?”

“I expect so, but it won’t be galloping on it for the next week or two.”

Shand swung down, inspected the injury and nodded. “It’s in deep. You’ll have to go without Ussarine.”

Karan swore. “No, I’ll ride back and get another horse. The stable boy can take hers back.”

She scrambled into the saddle and raced back through the darkness, calculating times and distances. She had planned on reaching the tunnel by ten, but at this rate they would be lucky to be there by eleven. Then they had to tunnel up and be in the grounds by one in the morning. Any later and they ran the risk of only finding Llian – assuming they could – in time to see him executed.

She galloped up the drive and roused the sleepy stable boy. “Sumey,” she yelled. “Ussarine’s stallion’s gone lame. We need another horse right away.”

He rolled out of his straw bed, rubbing his eyes. They heaved a saddle onto a strong, stocky grey mare and Karan tightened the straps.

“Come with us, lad. You’ll have to bring the stallion home.”

He mounted the mare, barefoot, and they galloped back, Karan compulsively checking the stars every minute or two. When they arrived, somewhat after ten, Ussarine had worked the spike out and Shand was rubbing horse liniment into the wound.

“Will you be all right with him?” said Ussarine to Sumey, who could not have been more than eleven.

“Course!” he said brightly. Clearly he would not have missed this for anything.

She shook his small hand, pulled a coin out of her pocket and handed it to him. “Thank you.”

“Wow!” said Sumey. “That’s – wow!”

They rode away. “How are we doing?” said Ussarine.

“An hour and a quarter behind,” Karan said grimly.

They raced through the darkness, slowing before they approached Pem-Y-Rum so they would not attract attention, and headed through the forest. At the tunnel Karan closed her fingers around her lightglass and shone a glimmer into the entrance.

“You expect me to go in there?” said Ussarine. “I’m not sure I’ll fit.”

Esea muttered something scurrilous. Ussarine merely grinned.

Karan felt as though she was choking. What if her calculations were wrong? What if Snoat had made Llian tell the tale before dinner? Or Llian only told a three-hour tale? Three hours was exhausting, even for an experienced teller, and he was out of practice. He might be finished by now. They might be taking him away for execution this minute.

She banged her forehead with her fists. Her back was aching, and her thigh bones, and she no longer had the strength she had once been able to rely on to do the impossible – like the time she had climbed the outside of the Great Tower of Katazza to save Llian from Tensor. That had been a climb to rival any in the Histories, but she could no more do it now than she could swim to the moon. She wanted to scream.

“There’s time, Karan,” said Lilis in her scratchy little voice. “We’ll do it.”

Karan, Shand, Esea and Lilis blacked their faces. Ussarine watched them, smirking. Lilis twisted her shining hair into a bun under her cap.

Karan crawled into the dark. Behind her came Lilis, making little squeaky sounds like a terrified mouse, then Shand, grimly silent, then Esea and finally Ussarine, muttering to herself. Karan left them well behind. She needed to be alone to settle her nerves.

The tunnel had a gentle down-slope for the first hundred feet, then rose slightly for another forty. She stopped at the highest point.

“What’s after this?” said Shand, his eyes reflecting the lightglass.

“Runs down a bit for another twenty feet, then stops. No way of telling how much further they planned to go. But we’re well inside the grounds here, and the land above should be in shadow, so if we tunnel up…”

“How far?”

“Maybe six feet. Maybe ten.”

“It’s going to take a long time.”

Karan probed the hard-packed roof with her pick and brought down a few clods onto her head and shoulders. She picked grit out of her eyes and attacked the soil furiously, but it was tiring work in such a cramped position, and after ten minutes she could barely hold her arms above her head.

Lilis wriggled past and began to toss the dirt down the tunnel with her trowel. Shand took over from Karan, then Esea, but after half an hour they were all exhausted and they had only dug up two feet.

“We can’t do it!” Karan wept. “It’s nearly midnight. It’s going to take another four hours at least.”

“Give me a go,” said Ussarine, who was lying further up the tunnel. All Karan could see were the whites of her eyes.

“You’ll never fit; it’s barely four feet high.”

“Better than lying here waiting for the tunnel to fall in. Move up.”

They got out of her way. Ussarine took the pick in her big hands and, with a mighty upthrust, jammed it a foot into the earth at the side of the hole. She levered and a bucket-sized piece of earth fell out. She pushed it aside with her knee.

“Get rid of that.” She attacked the roof, bringing down huge clods.

“You’re going up at an angle,” Karan said after a few minutes, when the shaft was twice its former diameter. The air was stale and she had a headache.

“Yes.”

“It’ll take even longer.”

“Actually it’ll be quicker. The dirt won’t be falling on my face.”

So it proved. In twenty minutes the shaft was four feet above the roof of the tunnel and Ussarine was bringing the clayey earth down as fast as they could clear it away. Karan watched in awe; she was a magnificent machine.

“I’ll take a turn,” said Shand. “You must be exhausted.”

Ussarine shook her head. “On my days off I practise with a heavy sword for six hours straight. Sometimes eight hours.”

“Why?” said Lilis.

“Soldiers don’t live long unless they’re the best and the strongest.” Ussarine rested the pick against the side of the hole, smiling ruefully. “And often, not even then.”

“What made you want to be a soldier, anyway?”

“When you’re a girl… and gigantic, people taunt you all the time. If you’re a good fighter they don’t do it to your face.”

“They taunt you if you’re little and skinny too,” said Lilis.

“Or if you’re Zain,” said Karan. “Llian…” She choked. “Llian suffered dreadfully simply because he was born a Zain.”

She glared at Shand, who looked away. Ussarine renewed her work, seemingly no more tired than she had been at the beginning.

The shaft was eight feet high now. No one else could have dug it; no one else had the reach.

“Must be close to one o’clock,” said Shand. “How far to go?”

“Won’t know till I reach the surface,” said Ussarine.

Karan’s headache was piercing. The air was really bad now; they should have waited outside. Her legs were twitchy but there was nothing she could do about it; they had tossed so much dirt along the tunnel that there was barely room to move. She felt a terrifying bout of claustrophobia, but fought it.

The minutes dragged like hours. Finally, when she was almost vomiting with despair, Ussarine gave an almighty thrust, jammed the pick in as far as it would go, levered, then threw herself back against the side of the shaft as a section of earth fell in. Thud. Beautiful cold air swirled around them and starlight filtered down.

“Someone take a look,” said Ussarine.

Karan crawled forward and Ussarine boosted her up the shaft. The hole was in shadow but they were only five yards from the wall. Judging by the stars it was around one-fifteen in the morning.

“We’ll have to go carefully,” Karan whispered. “Keep your faces turned away from the wall or the guards might see your eyes.”

Ussarine lowered her to the floor. Karan gathered her gear and they extinguished the lightglasses. “Our next problem is where to go,” she whispered.

“Ussarine and I will attack Snoat’s library,” said Shand, “making as much noise and chaos as possible so as to draw the guards, and Snoat, to us…”

“And then?” said Karan.

“We’ll kill the swine and run for it.”

“While I, Esea and Lilis look for Llian and Tallia.”

“How will you find the library?” said Esea.

“I know where it is,” said Shand. “In the old days I often dined here with the previous owner, Lanciver Gleag.”

“We’re wasting time. What do you want me to do?”

“You can’t use mancery until we find Llian,” said Karan. “But after that, do whatever it takes to get us out. You can bring Pem-Y-Rum down around Snoat’s ears for all I care.”

Esea’s eyes lit up at the thought of chaos and destruction.

“Any idea where Llian might be?” said Karan to Shand.

“For so great a tale, Snoat will want a beautiful setting. Either the gallery above the library, in the North Wing, or the Little Theatre on the top floor of the main building. Lanciver used to have his private concerts there; it’s a lovely chamber.”

Ussarine boosted them up the hole, took Shand’s down-stretched hand and scrambled up. For a few seconds Karan thought her weight was going to pull him in, then she was out and on the grass. Karan checked on the wall; no sign of guards. Silently, Shand indicated which way to go.

They made their way through the landscaped grounds, taking advantage of trees and shrubs to keep out of sight of the guards and, when they got close to the villa, anyone who might look out the windows. There was no moon yet but the starlight was bright enough to reveal them to a keen-eyed observer.

“The library and museum are there,” said Shand, pointing, “in the North Wing. It runs off the main house, there.” He indicated a taller building to the right. “We can’t see the South Wing from here.”

“How many people work here?” said Esea.

“Hundreds,” said Shand, “though mostly in the vineyards and gardens, a long way from here. Snoat’s got about twenty wall and gate guards, and there may be others patrolling the grounds.”

“What about house servants?

“They have their own quarters half a mile away. He likes his privacy. The only other people here at this time of night will be Tallia, Llian, Thandiwe, Ifoli and Unick. And perhaps one or two night staff.”

And Snoat’s executioner, thought Karan. Was he preparing to do the job… or had he already done it?

They reached the North Wing and Shand tried the first door he came to. Karan peered in through a window made of many lozenge-shaped panes, but the room beyond was in darkness. The door was locked, and so was every other door they encountered.

“I can soon have it open,” said Esea, flexing her fingers.

“If we use the tiniest peep of mancery,” said Shand sharply, “the Identity device will detect it.”

“Can you pick the lock?” said Karan.

“I don’t have the tools. We can’t force the door either; it’d make too much noise.”

“What about a window?” said Karan. “Those little panes are set in lead. If we cut it out we could remove enough panes to climb in.”

They went back and Karan attacked the lead with her knife, though after five minutes she had made little progress. It was old and brittle, and harder than she had expected.

“It’s taking too long,” she said.

“Shh!” said Lilis, who was on watch. “Someone’s coming.”

They slipped into cover behind a shrub whose leaves smelled like peppermint. Shortly a sentry appeared, pacing along the winding path from the greenhouses to the East Wing, then stopped twenty yards away. He yawned, scratched his backside, sat on a bench and got out a wrapped package.

“What’s he doing?” whispered Karan.

“Eating his dinner,” said Lilis.

After several minutes Karan said, “This is taking too long. What if we go for him?”

“It’s too risky,” said Shand. “We wait.”

Karan’s nerves felt like spiny wires. Even if Llian had done a five-hour telling, it must be ending by now.

Finally, after an agonising half hour, the guard moved on.

“We’re clear,” said Lilis.

Karan set to work again, but her hands were shaking and she made little progress.

“Give me a go,” said Shand.

He forced the point of his knife into a gap and levered. The pane cracked in two. He prised it out, then the panes around it, leaving the framework behind.

“It’s nearly two,” Shand said. “We can’t waste another minute. Ussarine, do you think…?”

She took hold of the lead, gave an almighty heave and, with a squeal of metal on metal and the crunch of cracking glass, the window came out. She propped it against the wall.

“The next time the guard comes past, he’ll see that,” said Lilis.

They climbed in. Shand took a number of egg-shaped objects from his pack and checked them one by one.

“What are they?” said Karan.

“A little bit of fire and a lot of smoke.”

“Make it good.”

“The Little Theatre is your best bet. It’s that way.” Shand pointed to the right, towards the main building.

“What if Llian’s telling his tale in the gallery above the library?” said Karan.

“We’ll see him. After making the diversion, we’ll head for the South Wing and Unick’s mancery workshop, trying to cause as much chaos as we can so we can get Tallia out. But don’t wait for us. Get out any way you can.”

Shand and Ussarine headed to the left. Karan, Esea and Lilis went right along a hall, then up a staircase.

Esea was limping badly. “Any idea where we’re going?” she said after they had been walking along empty corridors for several minutes.

“The Little Theatre is on this level,” said Karan. “Somewhere.”

She choked. Everything was taking too long, and Llian’s telling must have finished ages ago. Snoat might have killed him already.

They searched half the top floor without locating the Little Theatre. Then, from outside, someone yelled, “Fire!”

A bell began to ring. Clang! Clang! A deeper bell joined it. Karan ran to the nearest window. A ruddy glow was visible where she knew the library and museum to be, and smoke was gushing out through a broken window.

“There’s too much fire,” said Lilis. “They’re in trouble.”

“And there go the guards,” said Esea.