Since overhearing the High Priestess’s plans for her, she was almost giddy with the prospect of the glittering future now open to her. They want to bind Kirshovto them, she thought, and they need me to do it. For the first time in her life, Marqel found herself grateful to Kalleen and Lanatyne.They had ridden through the streets of Avacas to the palace, through crowds that lined the roads watching the steady stream of important personages arriving for the ball. Some of the spectators wanted to see the lords and ladies in their finery, others merely wanted to gape at the Shadowdancers, to dream, perhaps, of a life they could only witness from the outside. Marqel rode in a carriage with Caspona, between Madalan and Olena, taking no notice of the crowd or the town. She had seen cities like Avacas aplenty, and they held no particular appeal for her. Outside of the Hall of Shadows and the Lion of Senet’s palace, Avacas was just another red-tiled seaport full of sleazy old men and cheapskate, jealous old women.The palace, however, was an entirely different matter.
