The shorter soldier trotted to the edge of the balcony, where the trees were thickest. Spots danced across the king’s vision, but he was sure he saw what happened next. One of the trees moved to meet the soldier. The king blinked, but the tree was still moving. It leaned over as far as it could, stretching out a thick branch to make a nice little step up off the railing. So great was his astonishment, the king barely felt the bigger soldier heft him over his shoulder like an oat sack. Then they were up on the tree branch, and the tree was bending over to set them gently on the ground.
“Thank you,” said the shorter soldier as they stepped onto the grass.
And the king, though his ears were ringing horribly, could have sworn he heard the leaves whisper, “Anytime, Eli.”
That thought was too much for him, and he dove into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER 2
The ghosthound appeared at the gates of the royal city of Allaze without warning. One moment, the guards were standing beside the gatehouse playing divel shanks and speculating on what all the noise in the palace was about, the next they were on their backs, staring up at an animal that only lived in stories. From the way it was showing its teeth, the guards would rather it had stayed there. Twice the size of a horse and built like a racing dog, it had to swivel its head down to look them over. The great orange eyes, each the size of a dinner plate, twinkled with amusement, or perhaps hunger. But most horrifying of all was the way the white patterns on the animal’s silver fur moved like night clouds in a high wind, forming terrifying, shifting shapes above its dagger-sharp teeth.
“Excuse me,” said a voice, “but I need you to open the gates. I have an urgent message for King Henrith.”
The guards cowered on the sandy ground. “Great powers,” the left one muttered. “I never knew they could talk.”
There was a long sigh, and the beast lay down in a fluid motion, bringing the woman on its back into view. She was very well dressed in a handsome green riding suit with a crisp white shirt and tall boots. Red hair hung in a cascade of curls around her pretty, girlish face. Overall, she had a very striking look that was entirely out of place for a woman who rode a monster.
When she was sure she had their attention, the woman said, very slowly and with a charming smile, “My name is Miranda Lyonette, and I am here on behalf of the Spirit Court with a warning for your king. Now, I’m on a very tight deadline, so I would appreciate it very much if you would open the gate and let me on my way.”
It was the older guard who gathered his wits first. “Um, lady,” he said, picking himself up off the ground, “we’d like to help, but we can’t open the gate without the Master Gatekeeper, and he’s been called off to the castle.”
“Well,” she said, “then you’d better run and get him.”
The men looked at each other, then back at the woman. She made a little shooing motion, and the guards ran off, falling over each other as they rushed the tiny gatehouse door.
When they were gone, Miranda slid down the hound’s back and began to stretch the last few days out of her joints.
“I could have just jumped it,” the hound growled. It eyed the two-story wall and snorted dismissively. “Saved us some time. I thought you said we were in a hurry.”
“We are in a hurry,” Miranda said, shaking the road dust out of her hair as best she could. “But we’re also trying to make a good impression, Gin. Mellinor has a reputation for not liking wizards.”
“Good impressions are wasted on this lot.” Gin shook himself vigorously, raising a small cloud of grit from his ever-shifting coat. “We should have just jumped and saved the act for the king.”
“Next time I’ll just leave the negotiating to you, then.” Miranda stepped clear of the hound’s dust cloud. “Why don’t you worry less about the schedule and more about keeping your nose sharp? He has to be skulking around here somewhere.”
Gin gave her a withering look. “My nose is always sharp.” His long ears twitched, then swiveled forward. “The guards are coming back, and they brought a lot of other clanky metal types with them.” He flopped down, resting his chin on his paws. “So much for doing things the quick way.”
Miranda ignored him and put on a dazzling smile as the two guards, and a small squad of spearmen, marched through the gatehouse.
The gate guards had had no trouble finding the Master Gatekeeper. He was in the throne room, standing in a rough clump around the empty throne with every other official in Allaze.
“Sir,” the older guard said, tapping him on the shoulder. “We have a situation outside.”