What was it, Terrel? he thought. What was it you were hiding for your zealots? Weapons? Money? Drugs? All three? What went through your head, brother, staying in that little shop, everyone gone/the light fading, the wheel spinning, your deformed hands forming the cheap clay, changing it. What was it you made-false bottoms, sides? Probably bottoms.

You little fool, did you think you were going to change things? Bring about a new Sanctuary, a new world? Make things better? Depose the Rankans you always despised so much? Ah, Terrel, don't you know, revo- lutions always fail in hell.

Cade stood up, sheathing his sword. He had the scent now. All he and Targ had to do was ask a few discreet questions, drop a few coins into sweaty palms. This trail would lead them to the truth, to the reason behind Terrel's horrid end. This would lead them to his brother's mur- derer.

Cade smiled. He had them now.

Sarah sat on the same bench Cade had used earlier that day. She watched the shadows sliding down the wall as the sun set and Sanctuary began its nightly ritual of madness. It was time to go inside, bolt the doors, lock the shutters. But why bother? That hadn't saved Terrel. In Sanctuary death followed you wherever you tried to hide. If it weren't for the children - . .

Toth was a good boy; he tried. He understood what had happened and tried to help. Little Dru had no idea what was going on. She was always asking where Da was, and no matter how many times Sarah had ex- plained to her that her father wasn't coming back, she refused to under- stand. And now, with Cade in the house, they were that much more confused. He had turned their lives upside down. Sarah couldn't decide whether she hated or feared Cade or if it was both.

He ordered everyone around like he owned them. Sarah still shook with anger when she recalled catching him teaching the children to fight with a knife.