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s a wilderness scout, Teo had trained himself to notice anything unusual, anything that didn’t fit the pattern. There was nothing unusual about Habiloho’s sensual firelight dance; she loved that kind of attention. But the figure lurking in the woods behind her, wearing the garb of the monks of Astrebril—that was not to be expected at the Pon-Revel. For a long time, Teo stared at the spot where he had glimpsed the unknown man. Nothing moved. Evidently the visitor had left. It was probably of no consequence. Yet somehow it didn’t seem right. He turned. “Anastasia, I just want to—” She was gone. Teo glanced around but didn’t see her in the vicinity. He hoped she had overcome her misgivings about the party and had gone to obtain some wine. Wherever she was, she wouldn’t go far—not in these dangerous forests. In the meantime, he wanted to take a closer look for clues about the mysterious visitor. Dodging an amorous couple rolling around on a bearskin, Teo stepped out of the bonfire’s circle of light into the dark forest. He stared into the shadows for a moment to let his eyes adjust, then began to scan the ground. With the firelight screened by the trees, finding tracks in the dirt was no easy task. Teo was about to give up when he noticed a single footprint. Kneeling, he inspected it. The print was a sandal from a monk of Astrebril, like the ones Lewth had worn when Teo had visited him at the High Priestess’s 121
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