"Young Randall found him, your highness, he is Sir Derrik's squire. Right near the gate to the School of Thought. We thought to inform Lord Tralin but the magi said he was here, sir, so we came to you, begging your pardon." The king looked at the captain of the city guard with kindness mixed with severity. "That man was no citizen of Deren? You are certain?" "Positive, sir. He was dressed right to be sure, but his eyes, sir. His eyes were that odd shade of violet not found nowhere around Deren or even in Neld." "An enemy agent in the capitol?" "What? I saw the body: it was cyanotic."