Ylith sat down beside the woman and the valet. "What is this demon offering?" she asked.

Kornglow said, "My master told me he has to do a magical pa.s.sage in order to be rewarded with his dearest wish. When I went to his room, he was gone. Vanished."

"Maybe he's just outside, walking around," Ylith suggested.

"We'd have seen him come downstairs," Kornglow said, "and he's unlikely to have dived from the window into the bramble below. He's off doing the demon's work, I tell you, and frankly, it sounds like work that would suit me."

"You wouldn't!" the female servitor said with an admiring glance.

"I'm thinking about it," Kornglow said. "I can be in the demon's play as well as any man, as long as it doesn't matter that I don't have a Sir before my name."

Ylith stared at him. "A play?"

Kornglow nodded. "That's what Sir Oliver told me. The demon is putting on some sort of play. We just have to do whatever it is we usually do, and we'll be rewarded greatly for it. That's the sort of life I want to lead."

Ylith got to her feet. "You must excuse me. I need to see someone."

She hurried off, went to the front door, and pa.s.sed through it into the darkness.

"Where do you think she's gone to?" the female servitor asked.

Kornglow shrugged and sucked his teeth. "If she has an appointment it must be with an angel or a devil. There's nothing else out there but wolves."

Ylith said to herself, "So, he's going to do it! Stage an immorality play! Wait until Michael hears about this!"

Chapter 4.

Mounting an immorality play?" Michael said. "So it would seem, sir."

"The effrontery!"

"Yes, sir."

"Go back there and keep an eye on his progress. If you should find a way ever so subtly to impede his plan, it wouldn't be amiss to do it. Nothing blatant, you understand."

"I understand," Ylith said.

"Then off with you," Michael said. "I may send Babriel down, also, to lend a hand."

"That would be nice," Ylith said, a little wistfully. Although she and Babriel were not currently keeping company, she still had good memories of their a.s.sociation. Ylith remembered very well what sinning was like, and at times her whole body ached for the good old days.

Memories of her affair with Azzie also came to mind. It had been what she had once considered great fun.

She shook her head, willing herself not to think so much. It could get her into trouble.

Chapter 5.

After dismissing Kornglow, Sir Oliver sat for a long time on the edge of the bed, thinking of the bold thing he had done. He was frightened, of course; what man would not be frightened after having such a conversation with a demon? And yet Sir Antonio's offer was just too good to pa.s.s up. Despite the churchmen's complaints that the Dark Forces were always out trying to seduce mankind, it actually happened quite rarely. Never to anyone of Sir Oliver's acquaintanceship, and certainly not to him.

Oliver liked the idea. A great pa.s.sion had burned in him since childhood-to get something big and valuable and important at the least pains possible to himself. It was not the sort of thing you talked to people about much. They didn't understand.

Although it was very late, he was not particularly sleepy. He poured himself a gla.s.s of wine and found a few biscuits he had secreted from the dinner for a late-night snack. He was just taking a biscuit out of his pocket when his gaze happened to fall on the wall to his right.

He gulped hastily, spilling wine down the front of his doublet. He was looking at a door in the wall. A common, ordinary door. But Sir Oliver was certain one had not existed there before.

He got up, went over, and examined it. Could he have overlooked it when he first came in? There was a k.n.o.b. He tried it. The door was locked.

Well, that was all right, then. He sat down again. And then another thought came to him, and he took Azzie's Moronia spell in the form of the silver key out of his pocket and walked up to the door again.

He pushed the key cautiously into the keyhole. It slid in with an unctuous click.

He put the slightest pressure on the key, toward the left, just to see what would happen. The key turned as though by itself, and the lock clicked back.

Oliver reached out and turned the handle. The door opened. He removed the key and put it in his pocket.

He peeked through. Behind the door was a long, dimly lit pa.s.sageway that seemed to extend for a great distance, losing itself at last in gloom. Sir Oliver knew this pa.s.sageway didn't lead to anyplace in the inn, or even in the forest outside. It led to G.o.d knew where, and he was expected to go in.

Frightening...

But think of the reward!

A momentary vision flared before him. It was himself, dressed in red armor, astride a mighty charger, at the head of a company of heroes, entering a city and being acclaimed by all and sundry!

"That would really be something!" Sir Oliver said aloud.

He stepped into the pa.s.sageway, not really ready to commit himself but more in the spirit of a boy putting his toe into what might be very cold water.

As he stepped in, the door to his room at the inn closed behind him.

Sir Oliver gulped, but he didn't try to retreat. Some faint presentiment had told him something like this was likely to happen. How else did adventures start but that something gives you a push and then there you are, committed?

He began to walk down the pa.s.sageway, very cautiously at first and then with growing energy.

Chapter 6.

There was enough light to see by, though Oliver was unable to make out how it was produced. It was an even gray light, like twilight, and it was a sad light, almost an ominous light. He kept on walking, and the pa.s.sageway seemed to stretch on and on. Thin, leafy branches hung from the walls on both sides; they gave a pleasing rural effect.

He continued walking. The floor beneath his feet changed slowly into a real forest floor, and a natural luminescence lighted his way. He couldn't see far ahead, however, as there were leafy branches everywhere.

After a while the tree cover became thinner, and he came out into a gra.s.sy meadow. At the end of that meadow was a small castle, situated on its own little island, with a moat and drawbridge. The drawbridge was down.

He entered the grounds of the inner keep and saw a door before him. It swung open as he approached. Inside was a nicely laid out living room with a fire burning merrily in the fireplace. A lady was sitting on a small stool to one side of the doorway; she rose to her feet and turned to him.

"Welcome, sir knight," she said. "I am Alwyn, with a y, and I bid thee welcome. My husband is away killing people, but the hospitality of my house demands that I ask you to stay for dinner, and then to offer you a bed to sleep in, and finally, breakfast in the morning."