So I turned at nearly every juncture, slamming into walls to brake my speed and give me something to push against as I sprinted away. I say this as if the wall slamming was deliberate on my part; it was not. If I had been able to reason through my abject terror, I might have retained a general sense of which direction I was going in. As it was, I was already hopelessly lost.

Fortunately, where reason failed, blind panic served well enough.

Spying one of the alcoves that Tvril had described, I flung myself into it, pressing against the back wall. He had told me to think up, which would activate the lifting spell and propel me to the next level of the palace. Instead I thought AWAY AWAY AWAY, not realizing the magic would oblige that, too.

When the coach had brought me from the Salon to Sky-the-palace, Id had the curtains closed. The coachman had simply driven us to a particular spot and stopped; my skin had prickled; a moment later the coachman opened the door to reveal we were there. It had not occurred to me that the magic had pulled me through half a mile of solid matter in the blink of an eye.

Now it happened again. The little alcove, which had been growing dim as the Nightlord closed in, suddenly seemed to stretch, its entrance moving impossibly farther away while I remained still. There was an inbreath of tension, and then I shot forward as if from a sling. Walls flew at my face; I screamed and flung my arms over my eyes even as they passed through me. And then everything stopped.

I lowered my arms slowly. Before I could muster my wits enough to wonder whether this was the same alcove or another just like it, a child thrust his face through the opening, looked around, and spied me.

Come on, he said. Hurry up. It wont take him long to find us.

* * *

The Arameri magic had brought me to a vast open chamber within the body of Sky. Dumb, I looked around at the cold, featureless space as we hurried through it.

The arena, said the boy ahead of me. Some of the highbloods fancy themselves warriors. This way.

I glanced back toward the alcove, wondering if there was some way to block it off so the Nightlord couldnt follow.

No, that wont work, said the boy, following my gaze. But the palace itself inhibits his power on a night like this. He can hunt you using only his senses. (As opposed to what else? I wondered.) On a moonless night youd be in trouble, but tonight hes just a man.

That was not a man, I said. My voice sounded high and shaky in my own ears.

If that were true, you wouldnt be running for your life right now. And apparently I wasnt running fast enough. The boy caught my hand and pulled me along faster. He glanced back at me, and I caught a glimpse of a high-cheekboned, pointed face that would one day be handsome.

Where are you taking me? My ability to reason was returning, though slowly. To Viraine?

He uttered a derisive snort. We left the arena and passed into more of the mazelike white halls. Dont be foolish. Were going to hide.

But that man Nahadoth. Now I remembered where Id heard the name. Never whisper it in the dark, read the childrens tales, unless you want him to answer.

Oh, so now hes a man? We just have to keep ahead of him and everything will be fine. The boy ran around a corner, more nimble than me; I stumbled to keep up. He darted his eyes around the corridor, looking for something. Dont worry. I get away from him all the time.

This did not sound wise. I w-want to go to Viraine. I tried to say it with authority, but I was still too frightened, and winded now besides.

The boy responded by stopping, but not because of me. Here! he said, and put his hand against one of the pearlescent walls. Atadie!

The wall opened.

It was like watching ripples in water. The pearly stuff moved away from his hand in steady waves, forming an openinga holea door. Beyond the wall lay an oddly shaped, narrow chamber, not so much a room as a space between. When the door was big enough for us both, the boy pulled me inside.

What is this? I asked.

Dead space in the body of the palace. All these curving corridors and round rooms. Theres another half a palace in between that no one usesexcept me. The boy turned to me and flashed an up-to-no-good grin. We can rest for a little while.

I was beginning to catch my breath, and with it came a weakness that I recognized as the aftermath of adrenaline. The wall had rippled shut behind me, becoming as solid as before. I leaned back against it gingerly at first, then gratefully. And then I examined my rescuer.

He wasnt much smaller than me, maybe nine years old, with the spindly look of a fast grower. Not Amn, not with skin as dark as mine and sharpfold eyes like those of the Tema people. They were a murky, tired green, those eyeslike my own, and my mothers. Maybe his father had been another wandering Arameri.