The Twilight herald

A hush descended, cut only by a low siring of curses from Isak. The line of wall was broken by fat square lowers; Jeil had described them

on the way, and he had been sure there that there would be no one in them – a major design fault meant the arrow-slit windows had no real views of the approaching streets. As a result, each section of the wall was isolated. They had gained the wall furthest from the main part of the palace and, thus far, they hadn't been seen.

The Herald hadn't moved. It stood and stared straight at Isak, its lack of eyes apparently no hindrance to knowing exactly where he was. Something about its stance spoke of a readiness, of impending movement. Isak suddenly began to feel vulnerable without his sword, but Eolis lay behind the nightmarish Aspect of Death, catching the moonlight as it stood out from the soldier's impaled chest like a parody of the Herald's standard.

He fought the urge to step back. The minor deity had helped them in some small way, but he had this strange feeling that the Herald was on the point of attacking him. In that expressionless face Isak sensed rage, a boiling anger that was hardly contained.

'You see me,' whispered a voice in Isak's mind. 'You can smell your prey, but still I am beyond your grip.' He gave a slight start – then realised it was not the Herald, but Aryn Bwr, the spirit of the dead Elf king he held prisoner in his mind, on the threshold of Death's domain. Suddenly it all made sense.

Isak pulled his helm from his head, revealing the blue mask that echoed Nartis' face. As he did so, he felt the building tension break I ike a wave on the shore. Relief washed over him, but Isak was careful to bow deeply to the Aspect, ignoring the sharp flare of pain in his shoulder as the arrow-tip twisted in the shallow wound it had made.

'Thank you, my Lord,' he said formally. He had no idea if that was the correct way to address a minor God.

The Herald gave no indication of being either angered or flattered. The scarlet-robed figure inclined its own head and turned away. Isak caught a glimpse of an elongated ear on the side of its head before the night air blurred and the Herald seemed to collapse inward on itself, disintegrating into a fluttering mass of black shapes that exploded in all directions and then faded into the night.

'Lord Isak,' Vesna hissed, from the open doorway in the nearby lower housing the steps.

Isak blinked at the night, suddenly aware that he was staring into nothingness, exposed in the torchlight. 'Give me a hand here,' he said, dropping to one knee and fumbling at Siulents' hidden clasps.

His armour of flowing silver was remarkable to behold, mesmerising opponents and giving him a presence that no mere king could ever attain, but being unable to see joins and clasps until they were open presented problems sometimes.

'How deep is it? Can we dress it and go on?' Count Vesna sounded calmer, more assured. The distraction of battle had caused years of instinct to kick in. Isak was glad to hear the change in his voice, even though he was certain his most loyal of allies would never fail him.

'Sliced the skin, I think, no more. Just help me get this damn shoulder-plate off and the bloody thing out of me – anything more can wait; I'll not bleed to death from a scratch.'

Vesna did so, experienced hands sliding under the plate and bring¬ing it up off Isak's shoulder. The white-eye grimaced as the arrow jagged in the wound again, but Siulents had taken most of the force and the barb had hooked just inside the plate. Vesna quickly snapped the shaft and withdrew the crude iron head.

He checked the wound and, some of his old humour back, an¬nounced, 'It's bleeding happily enough, but you'll live.' Once Isak's armour was restored and the reflective helm was back in place, Vesna pointed towards the doorway. 'The others are waiting below there. Are you sure you know where we're going?'

Isak nodded and began walking briskly, calling Eolis to him as he did so. Turn is in there,' he said, pointing to a circular tower that rose from the end of a large hall on the eastern side of the palace. 'I can feel the magic'

'Can you be sure it's him? I thought the Circle still had a number of mages left.'

'It's him. I can feel powerful wards there, and I think the vampire is the only other person here with the strength for that. He's not tried to be subtle; they're a warning as much as anything.'

'But you can break them?'

'One way or another,' Isak said firmly, 'but it won't be neat, so let's get there quickly and quietly. I'm betting every servant left in the palace is holed up in a wine cellar somewhere, drowning their terror, so we move fast and we kill whoever is in our way, understand?'

There was the slightest of pauses from Vesna, and Isak felt the man's weariness like the glow of a flaring ember before the count agreed.

They walked through darkened corridors with weapons drawn. The palace had the air of the recently abandoned; tasks were left

unfinished, storerooms left open. There were no servants anywhere to be seen, no footsteps or voices echoing down the stone passageways, until they reached the i

The first hall they came to housed a pair of soldiers, and Tiniq and Leshi ghosted forward to kill them both, with nothing more than a cut-off cough of surprise from one. The rangers dragged the bodies out of immediate sight, leaving nothing but a red smear on the flanks of the stag painted on the tiled floor.

Isak looked around to gain his bearings, looking like a hunting dog sniffing the air. 'He's that way, still in his tower.'

'Surely he can sense you?'

Isak shrugged. 'He probably felt something happen on the walls, but I suspect he feels secure behind those wards. No point looking for a fight. He'll be wanting to save his strength.'

'So what do you want us to do?'

'A diversion of some sort,' Isak said. 'Set fire to a flour store or something, I don't really care what. Just draw whatever guards he might have away so I can get a clear run at him.'

'You're going alone?'

'Not quite,'replied a deep, booming voice behind them. As one the Farlan turned, ready to attack, faltering when they recognised the two figures standing in the shadows of the corridor.

'Ehla?' Isak gasped, 'Fernal? When- How did you gel here?'

'With rather more subtlety than you,' the witch of Llehden replied sounding like an exasperated older sister. At her side, Fernal flexed his massive taloned hands, staring fixedly at the weapons still levelled towards him.

Isak gestured and the blades were put up. Fernal stilled.

'Calling up an Aspect of Death to help you get over a wall? That smacks of showmanship, if you ask me.'

'It was hardly intentional,' Isak said hotly, not in the mood to be chastised by anyone.

'You can manage something like that by accidentV She sounded horrified at the suggestion. 'I don't know which would be worse; that yow at turn could have such consequences, or that a man with your power would warn to show it off so badly.'

'My Lord?' Vesna interrupted uncertainly, shilling his armoured body from one foot to the other. Isak nodded; they were rather too exposed for his liking as well.

'Go. Lord Fernal, they could use your help.'

The Demi'God shook his mane of midnight-blue hair and gave a soft growl, until Ehla laid a thin hand upon his arm. Vesna hesitated, looking from his lord to the newcomers before realising it would be better for them to leave. He strode away, the others close on his heels.

Ehla spoke a few words of her own language, soft and soothing, and Fernal fired a brief volley of thick sounds back. Their voices were so different Isak couldn't even tell if they had spoken the same language, but Fernal gave a curt nod and stepped forward to look Isak directly in the eye.