An accusing finger points at Mallory. 'Stay back!' she says, and then to Decebalus, 'He tried to kill me!'

'When?' the barbarian asks.

'Not five minutes ago, during the attack.'

'Impossible. Mallory was at my side then, up on the roof.'

Marie wavers, her eyes flashing from side to side. 'He tried to kill me, I tell you!'

Decebalus motions for Mallory to step back as he attends to the young woman. 'This is not the truth, Marie. Either you are mistaken, or it is some kind of magic.'

'Magic, then!' She stares at Mallory accusingly. 'His face, Decebalus. He came at me as the fire rained down, in the dark of the upper floors. Instinct made me turn at the last. Good fortune was all I had, but it was enough. I did not see his weapon, but I felt it as it tore through my flesh. I did see his face.' She points again. 'And I ran… here-'

'Think, Marie,' Decebalus says sharply. 'You ran into us – Mallory was not pursuing you. He was ahead.'

The woman wavers, tries to make sense. 'Then who…?'

'The one who's already killed two Brothers and Sisters of Dragons,' Mallory says. 'The Enemy's sent an assassin to pick us off one by one.'

'If it uses your face, then it attempts to undermine our spirit,' Decebalus says gravely. 'If it can use any face, then who can we trust?'

Troubled, Mallory and Decebalus deliver Marie to a healer and then seek out comfort and the sun in the herb garden, which lies beyond a maze of lavender in a walled area at the rear of the palace. The air is heavy with rich perfumes. Decebalus and Mallory find Aula tending her herbs, as she does at that time every day. At first Mallory does not recognise her. Her blond hair shimmering in the sun, the Roman Briton's face is strikingly peaceful as she immerses herself in the garden's atmosphere, a far cry from the fierce looks that usually accompany her caustic tones. Her mask returns when she sees them both.