Mandor cleared his throat as the flames dropped ten feet, shuddered, dropped again.

“I’ve some fine culinary spells,” he remarked, “should recent exertions have roused some appetites.”

Jasra smiled almost coquettishly, and I’d swear she batted her eyelashes at him. While he makes a striking appearance with that shock of white hair, I don’t know that you’d exactly call Mandor handsome. I’ve never understood why women are as attracted to him as they usually seem to be. I’ve even checked him out for spells on that particular count, but he doesn’t wear one. It must be some different order of magic entirely.

“A fine idea,” she responded. “I’ll provide the setting if you’ll take care of the rest.”

Mandor bowed; the flames collapsed the rest of the way to the ground and were damped therein. Jasra shouted an order to Sharu, the Invisible Guardian, telling him to keep them that way then she turned and led us toward the downward stair.

“Underground passage,” she explained, “to more civilized shores.”

“It occurs to me,” I remarked, “that anyone we encounter will probably be loyal to Julia.”

Jasra laughed.

“As they were to me before her and to Sharu before me,” she replied. “They are professionals. They come with the place. They are paid to defend the winners, not to avenge the losers. I will put in as appearance and make a proclamation after dinner, and I will enjoy their unanimous and heartfelt loyalty until the next usurpation. Mind that third step. There’s a loose flagstone.”

So she led us on, through a section of fake wall and into a dark tunnel, heading in what I believed to be a northwesterly direction toward the area of the Citadel which I had investigated somewhat on my previous journey this way.