Blood of the Fold

She dove for her clothes, searching frantically through them. Her dacra was gone. That was probably why they had stripped her: to make sure she had no weapon. That was what had been done to Sister Simona, for her own protection, to be sure she wouldn't hurt herself. They couldn't let a crazy woman have a deadly weapon.

Her fingers found her belt. She yanked it from the pile of clothes and, fumbling along its length, found the bulge in the thickness of leather.

Trembling with hope, Verna held the belt near the candle. She pulled open the false seam. There, nestled inside the secret pocket, was the journey book. She clutched the belt to her breast, thanking the Creator as she rocked on the pallet, holding her belt tight to her. She had at least this much.

When she had finally calmed, she pulled her clothes close to the weak light and dressed, feeling better, at least, not to be naked and helpless. She was no less helpless, but at least she didn't have to suffer the indignation of being a naked prisoner. She was beginning to feel the least little bit better.

Vema didn't know how long she had been unconscious, but she realized she was ravenous. She devoured the crust of bread, and gulped down the water.

After her belly was at least partially satisfied, she turned her thoughts to how she had come to be in this room. Sister Leoma. She remembered Sister Leoma and three others waiting for her in her office.

Sister Leoma was high up on her list of suspected Sisters of the Dark. Though she hadn't been put to a test, she had been a part of putting Verna in here. That was proof enough. It had been dark and she hadn't seen the other three, but she had a list of suspects in her head. Phoebe and Dulcinia had let them in — against her orders. However reluctantly, they had to be placed on the list, too.

Verna started pacing the small room. She was beginning to get angry. How dare they think they could get away with this?

They had gotten away with it.

A scowl settled in. No, they hadn't. Ann had given her this responsibility and she would live up to that faith. She would get the Sisters of the Light away from the palace.

Verna touched her fingers to her belt. She should send a message. Dare she, in here? What if she were caught? I could ruin everything. But she had to let Ann know what had happened.

Her pacing halted abruptly. How was she going to tell Ann that she had failed, and that because of her, all the Sisters of the Light were in mortal danger and she had no way to do anything about it? Jagang was coming. She had to escape. With her in this prison, none of the Sisters would know to escape.

And Jagang was going to have them all.

Richard leaped from the horse as it skidded to a halt. He glanced down the road and saw the others far below galloping to catch him. He rubbed the horse's nose and then started to tie the reins to an iron lever on the dropgate mechanism.

He glanced over the gears and levers, and then tied the reins to the end of a gear shaft instead. The place he had at first started tying the reins was the release lever to the huge gate. A good yank, and the portcullis could come crashing down on the horse.

Without waiting for the others, Richard started into the Wizard's Keep. He was furious that no one had awakened him. A light is burning in the windows of the Keep for half the night, he thought, and no one has the nerve to wake the Lord Rahl and tell him.

And then, not an hour before, he had seen the lightning, and the bloom of light racing outward in an expanding ring through a clear sky, leaving in its wake a smoky layer of clouds.

A thought coining to him, Richard paused before he went into the Keep and turned to look down on the city. At the bottom of the Keep road other roads branched off, leading away from Aydindril.

What if someone had been in the Keep? What if they had taken something? He had better tell the soldiers to hold anyone trying to leave. As soon as the others reached the Keep, he would send one back down to tell the soldiers to bring back anyone leaving and to seal the roads.

Richard watched the people on the road. Most were coming into the city, not leaving. There were a few leaving, though: what looked to be a few families with handcarts; some soldiers going out on patrol; a couple of wagons with trade goods; and four horses, close together, trotting past the people on foot. He would have them all stopped and checked.

But checked for what? He could take a look at the people himself, after the soldiers brought them back, and maybe tell if they carried anything magic.

Richard turned back toward the Keep. He didn't have the time. He needed to find out what had been going on up here, and besides, how would he know if it were a thing of magic? It would be a waste of time better spent. He needed to get to work with Berdine and translate the journal, not paw through families belongings. People were still leaving, not wanting to live under D'Haran rule. Let them.