The masked witches

She cha

For a moment, she felt fierce satisfaction. Then she remembered the Aglarondans and looked down.

Though Jet s light was dimming as she d stopped cha

The skull lord stood amid the carnage. Cera made out a pair of shadow demons hovering above him. The undead captain beckoned, challenging her.

She yearned to accept. It was a sunlady s duty to destroy the walking dead, and in that instance, the obligation meshed perfectly with her desires. She hated the things below her. For massacring the Aglarondans in such a foul and treacherous way. For nearly killing Jet and her. For making her fail when she d wanted so desperately to succeed.

Still, she recognized that it would be suicide to continue a fight against such overwhelming odds, so she didn t protest when Jet wheeled and fled. She simply used more of her rapidly diminishing mystical strength to close his wounds.

After a time, she said, That was a trap. A trap for the griffonriders specifically.

I think so, too, said Jet. The horses gave it away.

But does that make sense? she asked. How could the enemy be sure of catching them and no one else?

You humans with your kinked way of thinking are better at figuring out things like that, Jet said with a grunt.

Maybe they were. But no matter how Cera turned the matter over in her mind, all she could see was that five groups of outlanders had taken up Yhelbruna s quest, and there were only four remaining.

Dai Shan had observed long before that the important moments in life weren t spaced out evenly. Either nothing happened, or situations that demanded attention arrived in quick succession.

So it was that night. He d only just dismissed the shadow he d created to spy on the Griffon Lodge, when the thing he d retrieved from the spot where Falconer had instructed him to look for it gave a little bleating cry from the brassbound leather chest where he d hidden it.

He crossed the chamber to the chest, unlocked it with the proper word, and opened it. Raking aside layers of clothing, he lifted out the undead demonbinder s gift if gift was the appropriate term for such a grotesquerie. Though Dai Shan too had studied what many considered to be an unsavory form of the mystic arts, as well as the techniques his family used to interrogate and chastise prisoners, touching the thing made his skin crawl.

It looked like the right-hand side of a baby that had been split lengthwise, a freakish baby born under a curse. What there was of the head was abnormally big and bulbous, and patches of its skin were as scaly as a snake s. The body s three fingers and two toes ended in black claws. When Dai Shan had smuggled it into the castle and hidden it away, it had seemed dead, as by all rights it should certainly have been. But it squirmed feebly and opened an eye that, though it rolled from side to side, was all bloodshot sclera, with no discernible pupil or iris.

Dai Shan assumed that once the creature had been a complete imp. Falconer had presumably called it forth from one of the lower worlds, cut it in two, kept one half for himself, and had some swift, stealthy servant carry the other to Immilmar.

The half-imp s eye stopped moving, presumably because it was looking at Dai Shan, although it was impossible to tell for certain. Then it spoke his name in Falconer s deep, hollow, oddly accented voice.

Noble captain, Dai Shan replied, and imagined his own voice issuing from the mouth of the half-imp still in the undead mage s keeping. I trust you have good news.

The Aglarondans are dead, Falconer said.

Excellent, the Shou replied. I told you my drug would make the griffons particularly susceptible to enchantment. And it hadn t even been especially difficult to contaminate the winged steeds food supply. While it would be an exaggeration to say that Folcoerr Dulsaer had come to trust him, once they had sealed their pact, and the griffonriders had grown used to seeing him in their encampment, the opportunity had almost inevitably presented itself.

He wished it was as easy to juggle the half-imp. Dai Shan needed to hold onto it to strengthen the magic, but he couldn t find a way to keep the cold, slimy exposed organs from coming into contact with his skin.

I suppose it did, the skull lord said. But something else happened that we didn t foresee.

Dai Shan frowned slightly. And what was that? he asked.

There was another griffonrider there, a sun priestess on a black mount, Falconer said. And she got away.

Interesting, said Dai Shan. And it was. He hadn t realized that anyone else who d undertaken the quest was spying on the competition, and his respect for Aoth Fezim and his compatriots went up a notch. But if the Aglarondans didn t tell her I sent them to their doom, that shouldn t be a problem. And apparently they didn t, or by now someone would have called on me with inconvenient questions.

The thing in his hands jerked and shuddered like an epileptic in the throes of a seizure. To his disgust, its convulsions squeezed out fluid and sludge to stain his hands and sleeves. Then the fit subsided.

Who can you kill next? Falconer asked.

I don t know, Dai Shan said. Do the worthy magus and his circle trust me now? Do we have an arrangement? If not, then I fear the answer must be no one.

Yes, Falconer said. We have an agreement. Continue helping my allies and me, and when we win, you can have the griffons.

That s splendid, replied the Shou.

It would also be splendid if my new partner would tell me at least a little more about himself and his comrades. Such a display of trust would make me feel even more confident about the commitment I ve made. It might also give me added insight into how I can best assist you.

The half-imp convulsed again, biting down so hard that one of its jagged teeth cracked. Squeezed out of its body cavity, a little green egg of an organ fell and splatted on the floor.

Undead have come to these lands from somewhere far away, Falconer said at length. I myself don t understand where exactly. I gather that the face of the world has changed significantly since my former master made me as I am and charged me with my thankless tasks. But the newcomers are waking and rallying all those who once craved dominion, even the filthy Raumvirans.

Dai Shan considered himself an expert on many things. The history of long-dead empires was not among them. Still, he knew enough to ask,

And are the proud and valiant Nars pleased to welcome such wretches into the ranks?

For now, they serve a purpose, Falconer said.

We look forward to the time when that will no longer be that case.

Dai Shan smiled. I fully understand, he replied.

And I thank you for all the information you ve confided so far. But I d also appreciate one or two details. Perhaps the mighty and sagacious captain will tell me where he s established his stronghold.

You don t need to know that, said the skull lord.

Your trick with the imp is ingenious, said Dai Shan, but my half is deteriorating rapidly, and I suspect yours is as well. We can t count on being able to use this form of communication whenever we need it. If I know where you re based, I can dispatch a messenger.