Michael Sullivan - The emerald storm

"Thank you, Nimbus." Arista hugged the beanpole of a man, bringing a blush to his cheeks.

"Are you sure this will work?" Modina asked.

"I don't see why not," Arista said. "I'll do just what I did last time. I'll become " and Hilfred will be a fourth floor guard. You're sure you took the right uniform?"

Nimbus nodded.

"I'll order the guard to open the entrance to the prison. We'll grab Gaunt, and leave. I will instruct the seret to remain on duty and tell no one. Believing I'm Saldur, no one will know he's gone for hours, maybe even days."

"I still don't understand." Modina looked puzzled. "Amilia said there was no prison in the tower and that all the cells were empty."

"There is a secret door in the floor. A very cleverly hidden door, sealed with a gemlock."

"What's a gemlock?"

"A precious stone cut to produce a specific vibration that when held near the door trips the lock open. I used a magical variation on my tower door back home and the church used a far more sophisticated version to seal the main entrance to Gutaria Prison. They are doing the same thing here, and the key is the emerald in the pommel of the sword the Seret Knight wears."

"So, you will make your escape tonight?" the empress asked.

Arista nodded. The empress looked down, a sadness creeping into her eyes. "What's wrong?" Arista asked.

"Nothing. I'm just going to miss you."

Arista's stomach twisted as she looked out the window and watched the sun set. Am I being foolish? Her plan had always been to merely locate Gaunt, not break him out. Now that she knew exactly where he was, she could return home and have Alric send Royce and Hadrian to rescue him. Only that was before-before she found Hilfred, before she was reunited with Thrace, and before she knew she could impersonate Saldur. It seemed like such an easy thing to do that leaving without Gaunt seemed an unnecessary risk. The smoke verified he still lived, but would he be alive several weeks from now?

She was alone with Modina. They had not said a word to each other for hours. Something was troubling the empress-something more than usual. Modina was stubborn, and no force could move her once she decided on a course. Apparently, the course she decided on was not to talk.

The gate opened and the hay cart entered.

Arista watched intently. Nothing seemed amiss, no guards, no shouting, just a thick pile of hay and a slow walking donkey pulling it. The farmer, an elderly man, parked the cart by the stables, unhitched his donkey, hitched it to a new cart, and led the animal out again. Staring at the cart, she could not help herself. The plan had been to wait until just before dawn, but she could not leave Hilfred lying there. She managed to restrain herself only until she saw the harvest moon begin to rise, then she stood.

"It's time," she said.

Modina lifted her head.

Arista walked to the middle of the room and knelt.

"Arista I…" Modina began hesitantly.

"What is it?"

"Nothing…Good luck."

Arista got up and crossed the room to hug her tightly. "Good luck to you too."

The empress shook her head. "You keep all of it-I'm not going to be needing any."

Arista traveled down the stairs, disguised as Regent Saldur, wondering what Modina had almost said. The excitement of the night, however, kept her thoughts jumping from one thing to the next. She discovered she could remain in her disguise for a long time. It broke when she slept, but it would last beyond what she would need that night. This gave her greater confidence. Although she was still concerned about bumping into the real Saldur, the thought of seeing Hilfred again was overwhelming.

Her heart leapt just thinking about traveling home to Melengar with Hilfred once more at her side. It had been a long and tiring road and she wanted to be home. She wanted to see Alric and Julian, and to sleep in her own bed. She vowed she would treat Melissa better and planned to give her maid a new dfor Wintertide. Arista was occupied in a long list of Wintertide presents for everyone when she stepped outside. The broad face of the harvest moon illuminated the inner ward, allowing her to see as clear as if it were a cloudy day. The courtyard was empty as she crept to the wagon.

"Hilfred!" she whispered. There was no response, no movement in the hay. "Hilfred." She shook the wagon. "It's me, Arista."

She waited.

Her heart skipped a beat when the hay moved. "Princess?" it said hesitantly.

"Yes, it's me. Just follow." She led him into the stables and to the last stall, which was vacant. "We need to wait here until it is nearly dawn."

Hilfred stared at her dubiously, keeping a distance.

"How…?" he began but faltered.

"I thought Nimbus explained I would appear like this?"

"He did."

Hilfred's eyes traveled up and down her figure, a look on his face as if he had just tasted something awful.

"The rumors are true," she admitted, "at least the ones about using magic."

"I've known that, but your hair, your face, your voice." He shook his head. "It's perfect. How do I know you're not the real Saldur?"

Arista closed her eyes, and in an instant Saldur disappeared and the Princess of Melengar returned.

Hilfred stumbled backward until he hit the wall of the stall. His eyes wide and his mouth open.

"It is me," she assured him. Arista took a step forward and watched him flinch. It hurt her to see this, more than she would have expected. "You need to trust me," she told him.

"How can I? How can I be certain it's really you, when you trade skins so easily?"

"Ask me a question that will satisfy you."

Hilfred hesitated.

"Ask me, Hilfred."

"I have been with you daily since I was a very young man. Give me the names of the first three women I fell in love with and the name of the one I lost because of the scars on my face."

She smiled and felt her face blush. "Arista, Arista, Arista, and no one."

He smiled. She did not wait for him. She knew he would never presume upon her to take such a step on his own. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. She could feel the sudden shock in the tightening of his muscles, but he did not pull away. His body relaxed slowly and his arms surrounded her. He squeezed so that her cheek pressed against his, her chin resting on his shoulder.

"Maribor help me if you really are Saldur," Hilfred whispered in her ear.

She laughed softly and wondered if it was the first time she had done so since Emery died.

The Harvest Moon Royce and Hadrian began investigating the spouts, the giant tunnels bored out of the rock through which molten lava would blast on its way to the sea. There were dozens, each one aiming in different directions, their access to the mountain's core sealed off by gear controlled portals. They climbed the interior until they reached the opening and the sky.

The sun was up and the sight below forced Hadrian's stomach into his mouth. They were well above the bridge level. The world looked very small and very far away. Tur Del Fur was a small cluster of petite buildings crouched in the elbow of a little cove. Beyond it rose mountains that looked like little hills. Directly below, the sea appeared like a puddle with tiny flashes of white that took Hadrian a moment to realize were the crests of waves. What he thought might be insects were gulls circling far below.

None of the spouts were blocked, none of the portals tampered with.

"Maybe it's in the other tower?" Hadrian asked after they climbed out of the last tunnel.

Royce shook his head. "Even if that one is blocked, the pressure will vent here. Both have to be closed. It's not the spouts or the portals, it's something else-something we've oerlooked-something that can seal all the exits at once to make the mountain boil over. It has to be another master switch, one that locks all the portals closed."