“That woman is not Desdira!”
“Abadu, what are you saying?” Tion paced the floor of the mage’s chamber; there was no place for him to sit. Abadu was in his chair beside his table of charts and scrolls and crystal globes.
“Didn’t you notice it?” Abadu pressed him. “The fire in her eyes? The cruel smile? Her voice—thick and subtly accented?”
“Abadu, Desdira’s just suffered a miscarriage!”
“Tion, please listen to me, and listen to what I’m saying. And don’t speak of this to Oron!”
“Abadu, I think you should tell Oron before telling me!”
shoulme!Abadu waved peremptorily. “Oron will no longer listen to me. Besides, I don’t want him to lose all sense if—”
“What do you mean, that’s not Desdira?”
“Don’t you realize that Oron is the greatest threat Kossuth faces? Kossuth may be unfamiliar wi
