"Where did you lose it?"

"I d-d-dunno. I had it wh-when I slopped the pigs this morning! Then I could not find it!"

"Where are the animals penned?"

"B-behind the sl-sl-slaughterhouse! Two st-streets up fr-from the g-g-grain b-b-bin."

Kleg lowered the old man, so that he stood on shaky legs. "Is this true? Could you have dropped it at the pens?"

"Y-yes. I am sure that is wh-where I lost it."

Kleg felt a surge of hope within his breast. Could it be that he might still find the talisman and escape?

"What of my wine?" the old man said. His voice had lost its quaver and greed had replaced the fear.

Kleg looked at the old man. He could not have this drunken lout telling this tale to anyone else.

"The wine. Ah, yes. It is right there, behind you.

When the old man turned around to squint into the darkness, Kleg grabbed his hair with one hand and drew the sharp blade across his throat, hard. The old man gurgled and pitched forward, clutched at his neck, and tried to dam the outward flow of his life. He failed.

Kleg noticed that it was getting lighter inside. He glanced at the window and saw that the sky was a glowing yellow orange. The fire, it must be spreading!

The selkie did not spare the swinekeeper a backward glance as he darted from the stable.

By the Black Depths, half the village was in flames!

He had to get to the swine pens before the whole place went up.

He ran.

Conan realized that they were in danger when he saw a building next to the palisade collapse and fall against the wall. Flames licked at the wooden retainer, and in moments it, too, was being eaten by the raging fire.

Conan grabbed Cheen by one arm. "We must get out of the village!"

"What?"

"The fire is out of control, the whole town is going to burn. We will be cooked in here!"

Around them, people began to realize much the same thing, judging from the excited tones of their voices. Conan watched as a group of four men ran down the main street toward the main gate in the distance. Flaming structures lined both sides of the road, and when the four were only a hundred paces away, the tallest of the buildings lurched forward and fell, covering the men with burning wood and blocking the street with more fire.

The fires reached up toward the night sky as more and more buildings took light. The heat smote Conan on his exposed skin. The very air was hot in his lungs. Buildings exploded into flame now, popping and crackling and swirling like dust devils.

Screams filled the air as the inhabitants realized how bad it really was. A wall of mad, dancing fire sprang up, blocking any exit toward the village gate, and even the palisade itself now shot fiery fingers even higher, driving the darkness well back.

"The lake," Conan said. "We must go toward the lake."

"The lake is dangerous!"

"It is certain death any other way! Come!"

The two of them turned and ran in the direction of the only coolness left in the village. And even attaining that was not a.s.sured, as the pitch-covered docks sunk in the lake were beginning to smolder in places.

Conan looked up to see a Pili running the same way, and next to the lizard man, he spotted Tair and Hok, also fleeing. Whatever differences any of them had would have to wait, for when fleeing fire, all animals were brothers.

Chapter SEVENTEEN.

Thayla went from worrying about her husband to worrying about being roasted. Almost everywhere she looked flames filled the night. The whole village was on fire! What was going on here?

"Milady! This way!"

For a moment, Thayla allowed herself to be pulled along by Blad; he seemed to know where he was going. Then she saw an opening in the wall of fire, and she shouted at him. "That way is clear."

"That leads to the lake, milady!"

She took his point. Pili did not swim, there being little opportunity to do so in the desert. Then again, while the desert was hot, it hardly compared to a raging fire.

"There will be water craft of some kind. Hurry! "

They hurried. The crackle of light and heat was joined here and there by the collapse of buildings and the screams of villagers too slow to escape one or the other.

Thayla did not know what had caused the inferno but she suspected that her quarry had been in some way responsible.

The Queen of the Pili dodged a shower of flaming embers falling in her path. Time to worry about cause later, fool. Worry about escape now!

As the Mist Mage floated down one of the many corridors of his enclosed realm, he felt himself grow heavy. Could it be? Could he be about to gain solidity again, so soon?

With that very thought, he coalesced into the substance of a man and dropped to the stone floor.

A miracle! For this to happen again so soon after the last time surely must portend good fortune? His goal must be nearly attained!

None of his servants were near, and he needed to get to food and his mistress while he wore the flesh. So Dimma ran down the hall, glorying in his ability to do so. As he pa.s.sed a thick sheet of quartz that had been carved into a bat-shaped window and inset into the wall to admit light, he skidded to a stop. He very nearly fell, being unused to walking, much less running, but managed to maintain his footing. He returned to the window and stared through it.

The quartz was of varying thickness, so that anything viewed through it was somewhat distorted to a man's eye, but the mineral was of sufficient quality to allow Dimma to see in the distance, on a clear day, the village of Karatas, on the eastern edge of the lake. Under night's shroud as it now was, the village was usually invisible, the tiny lights being too far away to be viewed. But Dimma could see it now, Karatas. Or what was left of it.

Even from so great a distance, the flames that engulfed the town formed a bright flickering that lit the night.

Dimma stared at the sight. In his five hundred years, he had seen many towns destroyed-by wind, by fire, sometimes by magic. After such a long time, little surprised him. Some fool of a peasant knocks over a lamp and the tinder-dry wood of his but catches the sizzling oil and ignites, spreading to other hovels quickly. All too common a happening.

Still, as Dimma watched, a grin lit his face. Even though it was a sight he had seen many times, it was not one of which he had ever tired. The villagers' terror would be a delicious morsel, could he but be close enough to hear their frightened yells, could he but see their stricken faces. Ah, yes, some things never lost their appeal.

But as Dimma continued his vigil, he felt a ratlike worry gnawing at his thoughts. His Prime selkie would most likely come through the village on his way back with the final ingredient of Dimma's salvation. Had he already completed his pa.s.sage, there was no problem. Or, had Kleg yet to reach the town on the sh.o.r.e, he could wait for it to finish burning, also without any danger, a delay Dimma did not like, but could understand. But what if Kleg were in the village even as -Dimma watched? What if the fool allowed himself to be consumed by the fire, and with him the only remaining piece of the spell Dimma needed to remove his curse?

No, that would not do, not at all!

Dimma turned away from the quartz window and sought to run again. He would send more of his thralls to look for the selkie. Every beast under his command, if need be, for nothing was more important than that this quest be ended successfully, nothing!