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watched the gate was forced open by a well-disciplined troop of men who pushed through and attacked the guards. A huge group of people flooded through the breached gate behind them. A roar of triumph rose outside, then the mob came to a stunned halt. A pale flash of lightning illuminated the hundreds of faces staring at the burning wing of the palace.

Thunder and a distant crash reverberated through the building. The smoke grew thicker.

Gabria turned back to the dim, smoky hal . A boy rushed by her carrying an armload of jeweled goblets. The sorceress coughed and stared through the open double doors into the Fon's wing, where the dancing red and yel ow glow of fire revealed more and more people fleeing with the Fon's valuables.

Athlone drew back from the window. "Where is the Fon in all of this madness?" he yelled above the noise.

"And where is Branth?" Gabria shouted.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Piers." Athlone grabbed the healer's arm. "What are the chances Branth could Still be alive if he is in those lower storerooms?"

The healer tore a strip off his shirt and tied it over his nose and mouth to filter out the thickening smoke. "None, Lord. The whole corridor was on fire."

"If the Fon had moved him, where would she have taken him?" Athlone had to shout over the noise of the people and the increasing roar of the fire.

"If there was time?" Piers lifted his hands. "He could be in her apartments or in the guardrooms of the other wing. He could be anywhere."

The chief thought fast. "Then we'l have to split up. Search what you can, then get out fast. If anyone finds Branth, either bring him or kil him. Everyone understand?" They nodded. "Piers, you know this place. Take Gabria and Keth. Look where you think he is the most likely to be. Bregan, you come with me. We'l go upstairs to the Fon's rooms. Secen, Valar, and Sayyed, you take Tam and the dog and check the other wing.”

They hurried into their groups and started to leave. Only a few of the fleeing palace inhabitants glanced their way before rushing on.

"Don't wait too long to get out,” Athlone shouted after the men. Gabria was about to follow Piers when the chieftain took her hand. He wanted to say something to her before they parted in the smoke and fire, but sensible words failed to come to mind.

Gabria looked into his face, still bruised, bearded, and smeared with mud and dirt. She pul ed off the strip of cloth tied over her nose and mouth and lightly kissed his cheek.

Then she ran after Piers and vanished into the smoke.

Athlone looked after her in surprise before a quirk of a smile touched his mouth. He gestured to Bregan and left the banquet hal to find the stairs leading up to the next floor.

As Athlone and Bregan disappeared in one direction, Piers led Gabria and Keth through a set of doors, down another dim corridor, and into the audience hal where the Fon usually held her large public festivals, court functions, and celebrations. A few lamps were lit in the room despite the late hour, and Gabria looked around in amazement at the rich furnishings.

The wal s of the vast room were covered with tapestries, colorful banners, and hangings of silk embroidered with the ship emblem of Pra Desh. Padded benches and chairs lined the wal s, and a huge fireplace dominated one end of the room. Gabria noticed the big room was empty and was already filling with smoke.

Piers came to the center of the room and slowed down to get his bearings.

Gabria grabbed his sleeve. "Where are we going?"

The healer continued to study their surroundings as he answered. "The Fon should know where Branth is. If we can find her, maybe . . .” He paused as another crash reverberated through the palace.

Screams echoed down the corridor. "Floor gave way,” he muttered. He glanced at the stone wal s. "It won't be long before enough floors collapse to bring down all the walls."

"Then let's hurry,” Keth suggested nervously.

"Do you know where she might be?" Gabria asked.

Piers curled his lip. "If I know that woman, she's in the vaults trying to save the treasury." He hurried his companions out of the audience hal and into the first of the Fon's two waiting rooms. These rooms, where supplicants waited for personal interviews with the Fon in her throne room, were even more luxurious than the hal . They were filled with precious rugs, wallcases of delicate porcelain, handsomely carved furniture, and shelves of valuable books.

This room was empty' of people, so Piers walked through to the next. That room was much like the first. Here, her personal secretaries usually screened the people who would be al owed in the Fon's presence. At that moment, the only people in the room were two noblemen and one palace guard. The courtiers were older men in various stages of night dress, and they were shouting and frantically pounding on an arched wooden door. The guard was beside them, trying to hack at the door handle and frame with the point of his sword. .

Piers came to a quick halt and cursed under his breath. The men had obviously been there for some time, because the door handle was splintered from the guard's blows.

"What is it?" Gabria whispered behind the healer.

"The vaults are behind the throne room and that door is the only way in."

The guard shouted angrily at the clanspeople, "What are you doing here?"

"Quit yelping and help us," one of the noblemen ordered, ignoring the newcomers.

The guard gave a sharp laugh. "You'll never get that door open. She's barred it from inside."

"She?" Piers demanded. "The Fon?"

The guard glared at him. "Who else? Now, get out of here!"

Piers shoved past the guard, ignoring his sword, and shouldered into the group

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