Torin left the assembly hall, almost jogging to keep up with representative Delarin. He'd been shocked when the older elf had snubbed Ankeftel so blatantly. It struck him as a strange way to foster the spirit of inter-party cooperation which Delarin had talked about in his speech. There was no way Ankeftel would help out now, although Torin had to admit it hadn't been likely in the first place. The conservative seemed to hate the radicals with a single-minded ferocity, and he doubted something as mundane as an impending apocalypse would change that. Ankeftel's speech, filled with hyperbole and rabid invective, had reinforced this opinion.

He expected Delarin to turn into the wing of the hall that held the radicals' offices, so was surprised to see the representative keep straight on past it. Where was Delarin going, if not there? He was intending to ask, but then caught a look of Delarin's face. The older elf looked as if he would murder anybody who got in his way, so Torin decided not to push his luck. Instead, he followed silently as Delarin walked out of the building and into the streets of Tyr.

It was midwinter in Tyr, which meant that the people were wearing coats and hurrying about their business. In the summer, it got almost unbearably hot, and everybody hurried to avoid staying out long in the oppressive sun. The only time you would see casual pedestrians in Tyr was during the relatively comfortable fall and spring seasons. It had given the capital a reputation as a city of business that didn't brook any nonsense. The assembly, of course, benefited from that reputation by holding its sessions there. Torin suspected that was most of the reason that the assembly met here instead of in one of the cities with a more temperate climate year-round.

Delarin was joined outside by Representative Cleo, who said something Torin couldn't catch. He expected the two of them to talk, and was taken off guard when they started off again immediately; Delarin with a backwards-aimed wave of his hand for his protégé to follow. Torin resigned himself to his role as an aide and did so. They walked through the streets, just another three anonymous figures hurrying to their destination.

Delarin stopped in the middle of the street about four blocks from the hall. Torin at first thought the two representatives were stopping because Delarin had forgotten something in the hall. However, Delarin pushed open a gate set in the side wall of a house and motioned them inside. The house was a grey shade that was common in the town's centre, and the gate leading to its entranceway was practically hidden. Torin certainly hadn't seen it.

The house blended in so well, and was so at odds with Delarin's outgoing personality, that Torin had to admit it was the last place he would have looked for the representative. If it could fool even his own aide, it would certainly serve as an excellent place for Delarin to hide from those with less friendly attitudes.

Inside the entranceway was a staircase which went up to the top level. The room at the top was just as plain as the house's exterior. Torin watched as Delarin went over to a door opposite the stairs and knocked three times in rapid succession, then twice more slowly. The door's top panel slid open to reveal a pair of eyes. The eyes blinked and there was a grunt from the other side of the door.

“Delarin,” said a gruff voice. “There a problem?”

“There may well be one,” Delarin replied. “Anybody here?”

“Hollan, Mesalor. Few others, but that's it for the big names. Who's with you?” There was suspicion in the elf's voice as he spoke.

“Representative Cleo and Torin. He's my new aide, from the coastal city of Corralo. We were hoping that in a few years, he'd— Well, I suppose it's a moot point now.”

The door panel slammed shut as Delarin spoke, and Torin could hear the clicking and clanking of chains being removed and locks deactivated. The door opened, revealing an elf in his middle years. He was in excellent shape for his age; in fact, he was in excellent shape for an elf of any age. He held a metal canee in one hand, although he certainly didn't need it to stand. Judging from the way he was carrying it, the muscles on his arm clenching and unclenching, Torin suspected it was a weapon.

“Come in then,” he said. “I'll send a runner, if you've something important to discuss.”

“Please,” Delarin replied. “I'd rather not waste any more time than we have to on this.”

The elf gave another grunt as they filed in, then shut and locked the door behind them. “I'll send Geran,” he said. “She's our fastest.”

“My thanks,” said Delarin. “We'll be in the red room, I think.”

The red room was a large room with richly upholstered seats. They were velvet, if Torin was any judge, and whatever they were they put the seating in the assembly hall to shame. Those benches had been there hundreds of years, and it showed. They were well worn, although their age gave them a certain majesty. These seats looked like they hadn't been here more than a year, and flaunted it.

Delarin tossed himself down in one, and Cleo sat in another. Torin stood by the door, uncertain of his role in this place. Delarin seemed to notice his discomfort and motioned him to sit.

“Big change from the hall, right?” he said.

Torin nodded. “Very.”

“I know it makes us seem two-faced, what with our professed stance as defenders of the people. But this is nothing compared to what Ankeftel or the liberals have. They'd not be caught dead in a dump like this.”

“Where does it... I mean, who...” Torin couldn't figure out the question he wanted to ask.

Delarin saved him the trouble. “Wealthy merchants, mostly. They aren't generally a good match for our party goals, it's true, but at least a few of them seem to like the idea of putting the less fortunate before themselves. Who am I to deny them?”

He reached over to a burnished silver decanter resting on a chair-side table and pulled out the stopper. “Ahh, brandy. Excellent” He poured some into three glasses, then offered one to Cleo and Torin. He lifted the other to his lips. “To the people!” he said, and drained it in one go.

Representative Cleo looked amused as she did the same, and Torin drained his as well, coughing as the strong liquor coursed down his throat. He was a little uncomfortable about the whole thing, truth be told, but decided he'd just have to get used to how things were done here in the capital. Cleo and Delarin made small talk while they waited for the runner to return with the other elves, and Torin sat there feeling like a third wheel.

He was a little relieved when two elves he took to be Hollan and Mesolar entered the room a few minutes later. They looked much more like what he'd had in mind for radical representatives before he'd left Corallo for the capital a few weeks ago. Both elves were stocky, though not as much as the elf at the door had been, and neither would have looked out of place at a construction site. Next to them, Delarin's refined air was even more obvious than usual.

Neither they nor he seemed to care much about it, though. The two elves greeted him with obvious friendship, shaking his hand and slapping him on the back as he stood to meet them.

“What's the news, Delarin?” one said as the representative sat back down and poured himself more brandy.

“Not good, I'm afraid. Although it might work out in our favour if we're lucky and plan well. But wait until the others get here. I don't want to repeat myself.” Delarin pointed the two to where Torin was sitting. “Have you met my new aide? I don't think he's quite used to the capital yet.”

Torin spent the next twenty minutes or so being introduced to each elf as they arrived. He remained standing as the others sat; there weren't enough chairs in the room for all to sit. He took out his notepad and pencil again, preparing to write out the minutes of the meeting, but Delarin saw this and stopped him.

“What we say here is best kept off-record,” the representative told him.

Torin felt a thrill go through him. He knew there must be more to politics than long boring assembly meetings filled with bickering and self-important fools! Now he was about to see how the nation was really ruled. All the other parties must have a similar set-up, he thought. That would explain why the assembly was so rarely effective in deciding anything. All the real work was done off the record.

“Now that we're all here,” Delarin said, “it's time to get down to business. Earlier today, Elerea herself appeared before the full Lemorran Assembly.”

The response was almost the same as it had been at the Assembly, as well. All the elves started talking at once, but Delarin shouted them down.

“If you'll listen!”

“She said,” he continued once they'd quieted, “that there was a great disaster coming to the continent. Mount Tena will erupt, and the whole of Lemorra will be covered in a rain of fire. We have to leave somehow, go somewhere safe.”

“And where might that be?” The question came from an elf who had to be at least eighty years. From the looks of him, most of them had not been good ones. Torin remembered him introducing himself as Lacan.

“Damned if I know,” Delarin retorted, “but it doesn't really matter, as long as there's somewhere. We can set up the government the way it should be; finally get away from all those damn conservatives and liberals who run things the way they want to.”

“True enough,” Lacan said. “So how do we go about making sure that we find this supposed safe land before they do?”

“If the conservatives have their way, they're not even going to look for it. We have to start a two-pronged attack. We'll send out scouting boats from the port cities—we'll have to send runners for them soon, though; I suspect that Ankeftel's band are going to call in the army. Historically, it's what they do when they're trying to keep control of things.

“Once that's taken care of, we're going to stage a revolt and take the capital. Then there'll be nothing they can do to stop us getting our way. Hell, even if the disaster's a lie we'll be able to get our way.

“Now, here's how we're going to pull this off.”