"That's horrible!" Veltan exclaimed.

"The next question is, would it work?" Sorgan said.

"I don't think so," Veltan replied, "but let's not take any chances." Then he frowned. "I didn't know that my sister had any women priests," he said.

"As far as we know, this Alcevan's the only one," Sorgan said. "The other priests don't seem to like her very much, but your sister spends a lot of time listening to her." He smiled. "I think Eleria might refer to her as one of the 'teenie-weenies,'" he said. "That particular term showed up fairly often in Zelana country. Eleria herself was a teenie-weenie, and so was Rabbit. Then, when we encountered the bug-snake-people, Eleria called them teenie-weenies as well."

Veltan shrugged. "There are small people here in Aracia's Domain. From what you just told me, this Alcevan priestess throws a lot of weight around—quite possibly because Aracia told her to. Let's go give Lillabeth some protection. We don't want to take any chances here."

"She almost never comes here to spend any time with me," the little girl complained. "I think she hates me because I had that Dream."

"No, Lillabeth," Veltan replied. "It's the war that's bothering Aracia so much. It'll be over soon, and then things should go back to the way they're supposed to be."

"Do wars always take this long, Uncle Veltan?"

"I really don't know, child," Veltan replied. "This is the first war we've ever had here in the Land of Dhrall. Torl here knows much, much more about wars than I do."

Lillabeth looked at Torl. "How long do the wars last in your part of the world?" she asked.

Torl shrugged. "Sometimes they're over in about half an hour," he replied. "Others can go on for years and years. This one here is supposed to be over by springtime."

"And then everything will go back to the way it's supposed to be?" the little girl asked.

"Who knows?" Torl said. "The world changes all the time, and that means that nothing ever really stays the same."

"They get better, you mean?"

"Sometimes they do, but sometimes they get worse."

Veltan winced, but he didn't say anything.

Then the door of Lillabeth's room opened, and a young priest who couldn't have been much older than fifteen or so came into the room. He was just a bit pale, and his hands were shaking. "What are you people doing here?" he demanded.

"We just came by to visit my niece," Veltan replied.

"Your niece?"

Veltan nodded. "I'm Aracia's younger brother. We don't get chances to visit very often. Did someone tell you to stop by for some reason?"

"Ah—I was just supposed to look in to make sure that the little girl is all right and doesn't need anything," the young fellow replied just a bit too quickly.

"I'm here now," Veltan told him, "and I'll take care of anything she needs. Was there anything else?"

"Well—no, I guess not."

"Good. You can go now then. Tell whoever sent you that Lillabeth is just fine and that I'm here to make sure that she stays that way."

"I'll do that," the young fellow said, nervously backing toward the door.

Veltan smiled. "You have a nice day," he said blandly.

The young man fled.

"That was the one, Torl," Veltan said. "Alcevan promised him a quick elevation in rank if he did what she wanted him to do."

"You can hear what people are thinking, can't you, Veltan?" Torl asked.

"Usually, yes. I don't always want to, but it's there if I need it. I'll stay here with Lillabeth. Why don't you follow that nervous young priest? He might be the only one Alcevan hired, but let's make sure, if we can."

"I'll get right on it, Lord Veltan," Torl replied, going to the door.

Chapter Two

The pale young priest was trembling noticeably and not walking very fast as he moved along one of the dusty corridors of Aracia's temple. Torl was quite sure that he knew why the young man was reluctant to report his failure to Alcevan. The little priestess was quite obviously not the sort who'd be willing to accept failure, so the young man was almost certainly moving toward a blistering reprimand.

He finally reached one of those dusty, unoccupied rooms that didn't even have a door, but, unlike the other chambers on both sides of the corridor, there was a dim light in this one. "I'm back, Holy Alcevan," the young fellow said in a trembling voice. "I wasn't able to do what you asked, though. The little girl wasn't alone. There was a stranger who called himself Veltan there, along with one of those barbarians. I think I'll have to wait a while before I try again."

"There's no real problem, Aldas," the priestess replied. "We have plenty of time, so try again some other day."

"Oh, I will, I will," the young priest vowed. "Believe me, the time will come—sooner or later—when I'll find the little girl alone, and then I'll do that which you want me to do."

"Excellent, Aldas," the little priestess said. "I knew that I could depend on you."

"I'll go back immediately, Holy Alcevan," the young man promised. "I'll watch for days and days until I can get the little girl alone, and then—" His voice abruptly stopped, and Torl heard a gurgling sound.

Torl blinked. "She didn't!" he exclaimed under his breath. The stream of red blood coming through the doorway, however, said that she had. Alcevan quite obviously was not prepared to accept failure.

"I stayed back out of sight until she left the room, Veltan," Torl said somewhat later after Lillabeth had gone to sleep. "I'm not sure just exactly how she did it with a stone knife, but the poor boy's throat had been cut from ear to ear. First she told him that everything was all right, and then she killed him right there on the spot."

Veltan's face hardened. "She's even worse than I thought," he said. "She's after something here, and it's obvious that she'll go to any length to get it. I'm quite sure that she's not what she appears to be."

Torl suddenly grinned. "I don't really think fat old Bersla will be around very much longer, do you?"

"Interesting notion, Torl. Be very careful, but try to keep an eye on her. We might just be looking at extreme ambition here. If that's the case, she'll do almost anything to replace Bersla as the high priest—or Takal, as the local term has it—but it might go even further."

"Are you saying that she wants to replace your sister?"