"Unless I get some music very soon," Ca.s.siar warned, "everyone here will end up like her." He strode to the front of the room. The patrons moved back, frightened, clearing a place for him to sit. He did so. "You," Ca.s.siar said to a half-elf who clutched her flute like a staff. "I think I'd like to hear you."

Trembling, the woman rose and made her way to the front. The priest made way for her. Jander opened his mouth to warn Ca.s.siar about the young man's profession, but something made him hold his tongue. An idea, so daring it would have made him catch his breath had he still breathed, was beginning to form in the gold elf's brain.

The flutist's slim fingers shook badly, and her breathing was too shallow for performing. The sweet notes of the flute were fragile, hesitant, and Jander knew with a sick certainty what would happen next.

Ca.s.siar frowned. "No! Boo! That won't do at all!" He leaped up to seize the hapless woman. A quick bite opened her wrist, and the vampire sucked at the spurting blood. Laughing, he turned his crimson mouth to Erith. "A fine red, with a delicate bouquet but a full, robust flavor!" Ca.s.siar let the woman drop, not draining her, content with his sampling. Whimpering and clutching her ragged arm, she scuttled away.

Rhynn began to twitch again, but her movements were different this time. Speaking in Elvish, Jander hissed in her pointed ear, "Don't get sick. He'll notice you and make me rip your throat out. I don't want to do it, but I must obey him. If you'll be quiet, I'll take my hand away. Can I trust you?"

She nodded, and Jander, hoping desperately that she would keep her word, removed his hand. Rhynn gasped and shuddered, gulping in air. The elven vampire longed to hold her, to soothe her, but he knew she didn't desire such gestures from him now.

When Rhynn regained her composure, she hissed, "You're a traitor to your kind, Jander, and I hate you for it!"

Despite himself, Jander flinched from the insult. "No more than I hate myself," he whispered back softly, still speaking in his native tongue.

She glanced up at him, and he could see emotions warring on her delicate, lovely face. The priest was performing now. His voice was astoundingly steady, and his fingers caressed the strings of his instrument with a.s.surance despite the fact that Death was a yard away, staring him in the face. Ca.s.siar was pleased and made no move to interrupt the song.

"That bard's a priest," Jander whispered to Rhynn.

"Then why didn't he-"

"He's not a fool. He's biding his time."

"Are you going to kill him?"

Jander's look was angry now. "I am not what you think me to be, Rhynn the Fair. Wait until all the facts are in before you pa.s.s judgment upon me!" He paused, aware that his voice had risen slightly, and brought it back to a soft murmur. "I had not wanted you to be here, but perhaps it is best this way. I have an idea that could save at least some of the villagers."

"Why should I trust you?"

Why, indeed? He released his hold on her. "Go for your weapon if you wish. Or else trust me."

He half expected her to draw her sword. One hand moved toward the weapon, but at the last instant Rhynn clenched her fingers into a fist. Then, with a deliberate effort, she brought her hand down to her side. Jander permitted himself a slight smile.

The bard finished his song, and Ca.s.siar applauded. When the rest of the room stayed silent, he craned his neck to look back at the silent crowd. Merciless brown eyes took in the scene: Pogg and Trevys huddled behind the bar; four corpses sprawled on the floor; the half-elf clutching her mangled hand and looking paler by the moment; the sated, smug vampiresses; the overturned tables; the slack-jawed men and women at the seven remaining tables, staring in terror.

"Come now," Ca.s.siar chided. "Wasn't he wonderful? Don't you think you should clap for him?" The vampire threw back his head and laughed as the terrified crowd burst into frenzied applause. The bard bowed politely and returned to his seat.

Jander watched, knowing the next step of this grisly dance. Ca.s.siar rose and began to peruse the crowd until he found a woman who struck his fancy. Jander's heart sank as he saw that it was Aluise.

"Well, aren't you the pretty thing," Ca.s.siar said. He reached down and pulled her to her feet. "I like your eyes," he stated, heading toward the stairs. Aluise began to whimper, then suddenly shrieked and tried to pull free. The vampire lord paused halfway up the stairs, turned, and leveled his gaze at her. Aluise stared back. Her sobs turned to sniffles, then ceased. Ca.s.siar glanced around, his eyes finding Theorn. He pointed a finger at the Rider.

"You've fed and won't be hungry for a while. You can guard the door." He grimaced a bit at the Rider's blood-matted beard. "You are a messy eater, aren't you? Well, put your helm on and no one'll notice. You're one of the militia. Remember that, and you'll be able to allay suspicions if anyone should come." He caught and held the new vampire's gaze. "No one enters. No one leaves."

"No one enters. No one leaves," Theorn repeated dutifully.

Ca.s.siar turned to Erith and Marys. "Keep an eye on Jander, my dears. His heart's a little too soft for the sort of sport we enjoy."

"Aye, master," said Erith obediently, smiling a little. The wolf, Marys, whuffed. Ca.s.siar continued up the stairs. Jander watched him go, hatred twisting his face.

Rhynn's voice interrupted his dark thoughts. "You won't get away with this. If any of the Riders notice that no one's on guard duty-"

"Theorn will send them off on some fruitless search," Jander interrupted harshly. "Your Riders won't know you're here until they stumble across your body tomorrow."

She flinched at the brutality in his voice, but Jander didn't soften his words. She had to see the true horror of the thing and join him if he was to accomplish what he wanted tonight.

"He'll take Aluise-in every way possible-and when he's done he'll throw her away. It won't be that long. Then he'll come down and everyone will be systematically killed and the place set aflame. We'll flee like the G.o.ds-cursed night things we are, and wait until the talk dies down. And then we'll go to another town, and we'll do it again. And again."

"Stop it."

"Only if you help me stop it."

"Excuse me," came a tentative voice. Jander glanced toward the speaker, startled to see that it was the young priest. He's braver-or stupider-than I thought, Jander noted to himself.

"May we tend to our wounded?" the priest asked.

Jander's face flooded with compa.s.sion. "By all means, care for your injured," he said, raising his voice slightly. Erith overheard him and lifted a ruby lip in a snarl.

"Ca.s.siar's right. You are soft, elf," she hissed.

Jander growled. His eyes locked with hers, and she retreated a few steps, glancing over at her compatriot for support. Marys shrugged her ma.s.sive wolf shoulders, unconcerned. Erith frowned, but ceased to protest. She kept her eyes on Jander, however, and snapped acidly, "Have it your way. Do your bit of good and busy yourself with the cattle. Ca.s.siar will be down soon enough, and don't think I won't tell him."

Jander ignored her. "And clean up the floor," he told the priest "The scent-" He broke off and turned away.

Confused, Rhynn queried, "Don't vampires like the smell?"

"G.o.ds, Rider, are you blind?" he cried in Elvish. "I haven't tasted human blood since we met! Starve yourself for a month, then have someone lock you in a bakery. Perhaps you'll have some faint idea of what it's like! I haven't had so much as a rat in almost a week." The anger faded, and he made a halfhearted joke. "Pogg runs far too clean an inn."

"You do not feed," said the priest in perfect Elvish. Both Rhynn and Jander turned to stare at him. Few humans in Mistledale spoke Elvish. "You let us care for the wounded and even seem distressed by what is happening. You are not like the others. Why?"

Jander answered with a smile, also speaking in Elvish. "Of course a morninglord would know my tongue. Now you answer me, why have you not attacked us, priest?"

The young man's green eyes widened. At last he said, "I did not think I was so obvious. My name is Frajen. I have been a bard longer than I have been a priest, and the odds were hardly in my favor. I was waiting, watching you. Tell me, what keeps you from doing as your friends do?"

"My name is Jander Sunstar of Evermeet. I-"

A sharp hiss interrupted him. "Don't say things that I can't understand, eh0," Erith snapped.

"Ca.s.siar commands my movements, not my tongue. I'll speak my native language if I wish. Unless you want to force me to stop."

Erith knew the better part of valor and quieted. Jander returned his attention to Frajen, his voice gentling. "I followed your G.o.d, priest, and as long as I can remember the beauty of the morning, I will not willingly embrace evil. If you and Rhynn will trust me, we may be able to save lives here tonight."

Frajen nodded without hesitation. Slowly, Rhynn did likewise. Jander let himself relax. "Give me time to think. Frajen, be careful-keep your symbol well hidden and do not use any magic. Our kind can sense it. And tell Pogg to clean up the blood. It's becoming hard to resist."

The priest nodded and went to the innkeeper. Jander watched as Pogg brought in a bucket of water and three towels. He and Trevys wordlessly began to wipe at the puddles of red soaking into the floorboards while Frajen and Rhynn moved among the wounded. They recruited the rest of the patrons, more to keep the frightened people occupied than for the feeble a.s.sistance they could offer.

Jander glared at Marys and Erith, aware that they were still watching him. At first they were intent on watching the gold elf's every move, but the women were young and inexperienced, so he paid them little mind. Jander returned his attention to Frajen, and his eyes widened at what the priest was doing.

Frajen had gone to kneel beside Pogg and Trevys, ostensibly to help them clean the floor. To a casual observer, he did indeed seem to be doing that, holding onto the wooden pail with one hand and wiping at the b.l.o.o.d.y floor with a wet rag held in the other. Jander saw, however, that the morninglord's eyes were half closed and his lips moved slightly.

He was consecrating the water.

Why can I not sense the magic? Jander wondered fleetingly, then realized that creating holy water was nothing so arcane as magic, merely a holy blessing. Very clever, Frajen! he admitted silently.

The elf's gaze flickered to Erith and Marys. Erith was looking about for new amus.e.m.e.nt, and Marys, still in wolf form, lay curled up near the dead mage, though her eyes remained open and watchful. Soon, the two would notice what the priest was up to. Jander needed a distraction.

The odds would never be better-Jander had a trained soldier and a cleric on his side, and all three vampires nearby were newly undead. Ca.s.siar would be dangerous, and deadly. Jander knew that he was not up to that confrontation, not in his present voracious and weakened state. But he had to try.

"No more," he said softly to himself. "No more. Aluise is the last."

He strode to the wall lined with wooden pegs and tore down the cloaks. The movement drew the attention of mortal and vampire alike. He felt their eyes on him, their tension, as they wondered what the strange gold-skinned vampire was going to do next. The cloak pegs were about nine inches long-just long enough for Jander's purposes. Grimly the elf splintered off several of them, glancing back over his shoulder to gauge the reactions of the vampiresses.

Marys had risen to all fours, and the hair on her neck was standing up. She began to growl softly. Erith's eyes narrowed. "Beware, elf," she began menacingly.

Jander glanced surrept.i.tiously at Frajen. Imperceptibly, the priest inclined his blond head. The elven vampire glanced over at Rhynn, and he saw her expression harden into a mask of cold comprehension.

In one swift movement, Jander tossed a stake apiece to Rhynn and Frajen, keeping a third for himself. Erith rose as swiftly, the severed head tumbling from her lap and landing with a dull thump on the floor. Jander was no longer a fellow predator. He had crossed the line, and now, he was prey.

"Do it, Trevys!" Frajen cried.

The farm boy got to his feet and hurled the bucketful of b.l.o.o.d.y, blessed water directly into Erith's face. The sacred liquid acted like acid upon the vampiress's profane flesh. Her face melted, dripping like candle wax from a flame. Erith's wail was keen and sharp, and she clawed at her horribly disfigured, smoking face. She fell to the floor, no longer a thing of horrible beauty, merely a thing of horror.

Frajen cried Lathander's name as he lunged at Erith. He stabbed the writhing undead again and again in the chest. Her hands clutched and scratched at him, scoring his cheek, but the priest didn't falter. At last, he pressed the deadly point of wood deep into the vampiress's heart.

Marys, meanwhile, had leaped in deadly silence at Rhynn. Not even Jander had fully appreciated how swiftly the beast could move, and as he watched her attack, he knew he would be unable to reach the Rider in time to s.h.i.+eld her. Desperately he hurled the wooden dagger toward Marys's gray shape. The sharpened peg bit into the vampiress's hindquarters.

Marys arched in mid-leap, yelping from the sting of the wooden weapon, and landed heavily atop the Rider. Rhynn went down under the wolf's weight. Hot breath fanned her face, but before Marys could secure a deadly grip on the elfmaid's throat Jander was there. He twined his gold fingers into the thick ruff about the wolf's neck and yanked Marys's head back. Rhynn rallied, thrusting upward with the sharpened peg, plunging the wood deep into the wolf-thing's broad chest.

The vampiress's howl of outrage suddenly changed to a choked whimper. Blood flowed around the wood. Rhynn kept her hold, shoving ever deeper, grimacing only a little as Marys's blood dripped into her eye, stinging horribly. The Rider blinked it away. At last Marys ceased to struggle, and her weight pressed heavily down upon the slender elf woman.

Jander heaved the corpse aside. "Are you all right?" the vampire demanded.

Taking a shaky breath, Rhynn nodded and let Jander help her to her feet. Frajen stumbled over to them, covered with blood and breathing heavily.

"Jander," gasped the morninglord, "Pogg says there's a way out the back, through the cellar. May we go?"

"Of course. But you'd best hurry." Jander glanced up at the ceiling, toward the room where Ca.s.siar was having his sport. "I'll get the third. See them to safety. The boy should go first. Be careful, Frajen."

Frajen smiled ever so slightly. "The blessing of Lathander be upon you, Jander Sunstar," he said softly, then turned to help Pogg and young Trevys with the trap door in the kitchen.

"I must go too," said Rhynn brusquely. She was every inch the professional soldier now, and her face was hard and implacable. "I'm a Rider, and the villagers need me."

Jander smiled, but his silver eyes were sorrowful. "Of course, Rhynn. Hurry."

She nodded once, her blue eyes revealing no trace of softer emotions, and ran lithely to join Frajen.

The gold elf strode to the door, stooping to pick up one of the coat pegs, then heaved the oaken door open with a swift movement.

Instantly Theorn turned to him, indignant fury in his voice. "No one enters-"

"No one leaves," Jander finished smoothly, driving the makes.h.i.+ft stake home through the thick leather armor. "I'm not leaving."

Theorn made a small choking sound. Then, his chest heaving, he managed to bellow a single name. "Ca.s.siar!"

His dying cry mingled with a sonorous chiming, and Jander realized that someone was ringing Mistledale's warning bell. The other Riders would be alerted. Jander only hoped there was enough time to complete the b.l.o.o.d.y task he had set for himself before they arrived. The elf whirled as Theorn's body fell against the door frame with a heavy thump.

A movement by the bar caught Jander's eye. He jumped, teeth bared, hissing. "It's me," came Frajen's rea.s.suring voice as he climbed out of the trap door and closed it after himself. "Rhynn's taking care of the locals. I'm staying. You might need some help."

"No!" Jander cried. "You don't know what he is. You don't know what he'll-"

"What in the Nine h.e.l.ls is going on!" shrieked a shrill, nervous voice. Elf and priest looked up to see a very angry Ca.s.siar hastening down the stairs. He had removed his vest, and his open s.h.i.+rt fluttered as he ran. His copper hair was tousled. Except for the blood that had splashed on his bared chest, Ca.s.siar looked more like an interrupted libertine than a vampire. "Who called for me? Jander, what's- Bane's black heart! Where is everyone?"

"They're gone, Ca.s.siar," Jander said, suddenly laughing. "You'll not torture them, or anyone else, ever again. You die tonight, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d. And these-" he held up his golden hands "-are the instruments of your death."

Ca.s.siar frowned. "Jander, stop it. You were wrong to let them go, and you'll be pun-What have you done to them?" he cried, catching sight of the bodies of the vampiresses.

Jander continued to grin savagely, exposing his fangs. Raw excitement was coursing through him, fueled by his anger and his driving hunger. "They are at peace."

Ca.s.siar, full of wrath, turned upon the elven vampire. "On your knees!"

It was a ritual they had performed often before. Each time Jander had tried to thwart Ca.s.siar, urge him to mercy or pity or outright defied him, the vampire lord would command the gold elf's obedience. And Jander, weeping tears of blood at his impotence, could not help but comply. He would kneel and bare his throat. Ca.s.siar would then drink of his blood until he was satisfied his wayward slave had been sufficiently punished. For a vampire to be drained by another was excruciatingly painful, and Jander would be pathetically weak for several days.

Jander winced as he felt the force of Ca.s.siar's will, but stood firm. Gritting his teeth, he growled, "You were a spoiled, arrogant little aristocrat when you breathed, and you're a spoiled, arrogant little aristocrat now. I'll obey you no longer."

Ca.s.siar's face was flushed with fury. His elegant brows drew together over commanding, irresistible brown eyes. "Kneel!"

Jander could not hold out. Gasping in pain, he dropped to the wooden floor. But he still held out hope. Ca.s.siar was angry now, and when he grew angry, he was careless.

"I have indulged you because you were a novelty," the vampire lord continued, moving to stand in front of the kneeling Jander. "But the novelty's gone."

Against his will, Jander reached a hand toward one of the makes.h.i.+ft stakes. He gritted his teeth, fighting to disobey the mental command, but his slim golden fingers curled around the piece of wood. Slowly Jander's hand moved closer to his breast, the tip of the wooden stake pointed toward his heart.

"Your hands are the instruments of your death, not mine," Ca.s.siar gloated.

"No!" came a choked cry. Frajen shoved the holy symbol toward Ca.s.siar's face. "In the name of Lathander Morning-"

Ca.s.siar was an old vampire, far too powerful to be undone by the desperate actions of a young, inexperienced priest. He rolled his eyes and muttered, "Oh, please." With one pale hand, he reached out to pull the priest toward him. With the other he tore open Frajen's neck with a single swipe.

Jander cried aloud. Frajen's sweet voice would never again fill a room with music. The priest had allied with him. Now he was dead for the choice. In his mind's eye, the elf again saw the look of loathing upon Rhynn's face- she who had once called him friend-and the torn body of the little girl who had fallen victim to Ca.s.siar at the farmhouse outside of town. He remembered Aluise's girlish laugh, choked now by her own blood. He saw the frightened, helpless townsfolk and musicians. And he had doomed them, and dozens like them, by aiding Ca.s.siar on his rampages.

Ca.s.siar had relaxed his will for an instant, his attention diverted from the gold elf to Frajen. Jander had a second or two where his will was his own, but he did not squander that precious blink of time in fighting.

Instead, he called for help; he summoned Indigo. From the shadows leaped the black cat, a silent shadow himself, launching his lithe frame with deadly intent toward Ca.s.siar. Claws reached for the vampire lord's brown eyes and raked.

Ca.s.siar shrieked as blood spewed from his damaged eyes. He groped frantically for the cat. Indigo continued to scratch and claw until Ca.s.siar's own nails pierced the creature's sides. With a last frantic meow, the cat spasmed and died.

Blinded, Ca.s.siar could no longer focus his compelling gaze upon Jander, and his power over his minion was suddenly diminished. Jander sprang for his master. The two vampires crashed into a table, sending goblets flying. Despite his blindness, Ca.s.siar recovered swiftly. As Jander's mouth yawned open and descended to the vampire lord's throat, Ca.s.siar heaved. He rolled over, pinning the slighter elf beneath him.

The elven vampire managed to get one arm up to protect his throat-and cried out as Ca.s.siar's fangs sank deeply into his flesh. Teeth met in Jander's forearm, and Ca.s.siar ripped away a chunk of meat. The elf dropped the wooden stake.