5

One person in the crowd was not the same as all the others, even though he looked like the rest of the people, and shouted and sang in celebration as loudly as anyone else. But he was different – unique.

As far as he knew, Sehaye, the islander spy, was the only Uloan left alive in Khambawe. He had not crossed paths with any others. There was no longer any danger of discovery; he had long since overcome the madness that had claimed him after Retribution Time had turned into a calamity, although some of it remained, touching his consciousness like strings of spider-silk. In the immediate aftermath of the battle, his disoriented behavior had not been noticed, for it was not unusual. Eventually, his mind calmed, and he did what he needed to do in order to stay alive.

He often thought a similar madness had afflicted the other spies in the city, whose identities in any case remained unknown to him. He did not want to know who they were, or whether or not they still lived. He only knew there had to be a purpose in his own survival. And that purpose would become clear when Legaba decided it was time for him to become aware of it.

In the meantime, Sehaye focused his attention fully on the royal platform: on the pretender who wore the crown that rightfully belonged to Jass Imbiah; on the foreign interloper who had wrongfully assumed the role of Leba. He sensed those two were somehow involved in his own destiny. But he did not yet know how, nor could he even guess what lay ahead. 

He knew the answer would come.  Legaba would give it to him.  And when he received it, he would be ready to act.