"I don't know," Leesil answered honestly. "If they've discovered we're prepared, they may wait a long time."

"People will already be shaking from fear. Much longer, and they'll be exhausted."

"Exactly. Hence, the waiting if they know something is happening."

Leesil peered out a crack in the door, hoping to see something, anything, when he heard Rose scream. The sound shot through him like an arrow, and he burst out into the street without thinking.

"Rose?" he called and started for the stable up the street.

Another scream rang out, and in confusion, he turned toward the tavern. Karlin now stood beside him.

More screams echoed through the town around him.

Turning, he saw two dockworkers run from their hiding places in panic. Snarls and growls followed frightened cries, and Leesil stood dumbfounded, not knowing what he should do.

Wolves.

Long-legged, enraged animals were running in the streets and attacking Miiska's citizens. Some were even jumping through windows. Geoffry, Karlin's son, was holding off an enormous black beast with a makeshift spear. Leesil dropped his ax, grabbed Karlin's crossbow out of the man's hands, and fired, catching the wolf through the throat. "Get off the ground!" he yelled. The streets turned to chaos. His simple but well-laid plan shattered into pieces as more canine creatures appeared from around side streets to savagely rout his people from their hiding places. Thoughts of undeads disappeared as weapons and terror shifted toward new targets.

The wolves were not starving, mangy beasts. They appeared to be healthy timber wolves, except they had gone mad and were attacking anything human that moved. He and Magiere had some experience with wolves on the open road in Stravina, but he'd never known one to attack a person, unless famine or disease drove it to desperate action. Wolves avoided areas where people settled. But now, these tall, gray-and-black furred creatures ran down and savaged random citizens. Screams and snarls filled the night air. "Leesil!" Karlin shouted. 'The tavern's on fire."

Rashed sent the wolves ahead, following rapidly through the trees toward Miiska. This time it would be the hunter who was caught off guard, distracted by carnage, and he would be the one with well-prepared forces. While he did not consider wolves to be complex creatures, they became quite single-minded when he set them to a task for which they were suited. With one thought image, he showed them that task, ordering them to attack and kill anything that moved. They obeyed.

Reaching the edge of town, he strode in without hesitation, carrying a burning torch in one hand and his sword in the other. There was no time or need to hide in shadows now.

He felt no satisfaction when the screaming began. Random violence was distasteful and lacked honor. Even killing to feed was a foolish act that raised suspicion and depleted the local food supply. But the hunter had retreated to hide among the townspeople, so the town itself must be otherwise occupied for him to pull her into the open and finish this conflict. The hunter had forced him to this slaughter.

The closer he drew to the tavern, the more people ran out of nearby buildings, and this puzzled him. Few mortals made their homes near the docks or as far south in the town as The Sea Lion. He saw armed men jumping off roofs to either save those on the ground or escape from a wolf that had found its way up.

Magiere, the spineless hunter, had set a trap, hiding behind simple townsfolk and laborers. The thought angered him.

No one noticed him as he strode purposefully toward the tavern. In fact, only when the dwelling was directly in his sight did one person even try to stop him. A young town guard was aiming a crossbow at a wolf across the street when he saw Rashed and started slightly. Instead of shooting at the wolf, he aimed at Rashed and fired.

At full strength and concentration, the n.o.ble Dead simply caught the quarrel in mid-air and tossed it aside.

The young guard's eyes widened, and he ran away.

Rashed did not follow. Instead, he walked up to The Sea Lion, kicked a few boards at its base loose, and thrust the torch's head in among them. The tavern's wood was old and dry, and burst into flames. He quickly repeated this act on each side of the building, leaving the back until last, after which he threw the torch through the upper window of what he knew was her bedroom. Then he returned to the front to wait for Magiere. She was inside. He could feel her presence after so many close encounters. He watched the door and windows for any glimpse of her.

At first he saw nothing. Then a flicker of movement pa.s.sed by the small window to the left of the front door. His eyes focused between the door and main window of the common room, one of its shutters torn off and lying on the ground.

Magiere stepped into plain view through the larger window.

He was not surprised by her sudden appearance, but rather by her composure. Hair pulled back and armor cleaned, her expression was calm. She appeared fresh and rested, not like someone who'd been fighting night after night. The fire was spreading and devouring the tavern, but neither that nor the battle in the streets affected her. Why didn't she run out?

They stood, staring at each other. She gripped her falchion in one hand and kept the other hand hidden behind her.

Without a word, she lifted her concealed hand. For a moment, Rashed could not see what she held through the fire's glare and the dark inside the tavern. A distinct shape dangled down from brown strands of hair clenched in her fist.

Teesha's head.

Leesil's body no longer functioned as he wished, and desperation ran out of him in sweat that chilled on his skin in the cool night air. He'd worked his way through the turmoil, trying to drive off beasts a.s.saulting people in the street, and now found himself near the sh.o.r.e, with the docks to the north of him and the near side of the tavern just to the south. Everything had deteriorated into confusion. Then Karlin shouted at him.

The Sea Lion was on fire.

Two bodies with torn throats lay between him and the burning tavern. In his present condition, he could not help Magiere fight, even if he could get to her. Staying on his feet was becoming more difficult with each pa.s.sing moment.

Leesil looked frantically around, but saw no one he could call to a.s.sist with putting out the fire. Of the few people still standing, most were running or fighting for their lives. Should he try to organize some semblance of a retreat? If so, how?

From around the back of the tavern came Chap, lunging hard with legs bent as he used shoulders and haunches to struggle forward as quickly as he could. Cloth was clamped between his teeth as he dragged something across the ground away from the fire.

If Chap had come from the tavern, then Magiere was still inside. Why wasn't the dog in there helping her?

"Chap," Leesil called. "Here, boy."

Leesil dropped the empty crossbow and leaned against the buildings as he struggled forward.

A building-and-a-half away from the tavern now, Chap spotted Leesil and stopped, letting go of his burden. The dog then ran back and forth and around whatever he'd been dragging, barking loudly and unwilling to leave it. When Leesil reached Chap's side, he understood.

Rose's half-conscious form lay on the ground. This was why Chap had left Magiere's side.

"It's all right," he said.

Crouching down, he caught himself from falling with one hand on the ground. Rose lifted her head, face tear streaked.

"Leesil!" she cried, reaching out her hands.

That was good. If she could still talk and move, then whatever had happened, it had likely not caused her any lasting harm. He doubted he could get to Magiere, and the townsfolk were now beyond his help. But he could save Rose.

The dog whined and licked his face. Rose crawled to her feet and grabbed his neck, hanging on tightly. Her slight weight hurt his ribs and back.

"Can you walk?" he panted. "I can't carry you."

She seemed confused, then nodded in comprehension. "Yes, I can."

"Take me to the stable, to the other children," he said.

For one so young and frightened, she grasped his meaning quickly. Leading him by the hand, she hurried toward the stable, moving faster than he could and attempting to pull him along. Chap ranged alongside, ears p.r.i.c.ked up at the sights and sounds of people fighting off wolves somewhere down the side streets. The night grew darker as they moved farther from the burning tavern. Leesil ignored everything but the need to keep moving. When they reached the stable door, he managed to jerk it open and then froze.

Two large wolves-one dusty black and the other gray- loped about inside, sniffing and pawing through the floor straw, searching for a way to get to what they smelled below. The children. Both of them lifted their heads and two sets of yellow eyes locked on the new arrivals.

The black wolf snarled, and Chap charged. Furred bodies collided.

"Rose, get up on the hay!" Leesil shouted, casting around for anything to use as a weapon. Every pitchfork and shovel had been cleaned out by the townsfolk earlier that day.

Rose scrambled as high as she could up the loose pile of hay strewn around two stacked bales. Chap and the black wolf rolled across the wooden floor like coiling snakes.

Leesil saw the gray wolf's sharp fangs and tensing muscles as it lunged two steps toward him and attacked. Fear and instinct took over, driving his actions.

One arm shot up to guard his head and throat, as his other swung down hard to his side in a flicking Motion. The strap that held his stiletto in place snapped free and the hilt dropped into his hand. The wolf's teeth snapped closed around his raised arm.

When the animal's forepaws. .h.i.t his chest, he felt his broken ribs stab deeper into his body, stopping his breath. He let the wolf's weight topple them both to the floor.

The impact sent another shock of pain through his body.

In the same fluid movement with which he'd once pinned Brenden to the tavern floor, he rolled with the wolf's weight, pushing its jaws upward with his forearm to trap its head against the floor. With the last inertia of his roll, he rammed the stiletto down through the animal's eye.

There was a crunch as the blade tip broke through bone and pa.s.sed into the skull. The furred body spasmed once, then ceased moving. Leesil flopped over to the floor and tried to get air back into his lungs again.

Chap snapped and battered with his paws again and again at the other wolf, the two of them twisting and turning about each other. Leesil tried to move, to help, but nothing happened. His breath came in short sucking gasps that hurt so badly he wanted to stop breathing altogether.

There was no sound from the children below. Either blind fear or good sense had kept them from giving their position away.

Chap caught his opponent's front leg and bit down. A loud snap and a yelp announced the end of the fight, and Leesil felt one small moment of pride. Stout Chap had been running down undeads. Dealing with a mere wolf was only a matter of moments.

The wounded animal stumbled out the stable doors on three legs, moving as fast as it was able. Chap let it go and reached Leesil about the same time that Rose climbed down from the hay.

"Get below," Leesil whispered. "You have to hide with the others."

Rose didn't move. She wouldn't leave him.

"Listen to me-" he hissed in anger, but he didn't finish before darkness filled his head, and he dropped limp and unconscious.

When Magiere held Teesha's head up, she expected to see rage and thirst for vengeance color Rashed's face. With the growing flames between them, she antic.i.p.ated the satisfaction of driving him to wild action.

At first, absolute incomprehension registered in his crystalline eyes-then horror-and finally something between fear and pain.

"Teesha?" he mouthed as a question, though Magiere could not hear his voice over the sound of the fire.

Magiere felt an unexpected and unwanted sensation of guilt, but swallowed it down.

"Here I am," she called, determined to finish what he he had started. "Why don't you come take my head?" had started. "Why don't you come take my head?"

He could not have heard her either, but at those words he cried out incoherently and came crashing through the window, the base of the wall below it giving way before his legs. Burning boards dropped around him, and he gripped his long sword as if it were the only thing that mattered.

Still Magiere felt nothing she expected. Sorrow danced around the edge of his cry, not rage.

"Coward!" he managed to yell before swinging so hard that Magiere dropped Teesha's head and jumped back instead of blocking. His attack now stirred the power and anger she longed for.

With Teesha, she had controlled that rage and how it affected her actions, and she believed she could have done so even now. But she didn't want to, and she let it take her, rushing through her body. The sharpness inside of her mouth was welcome, no longer unsettling. To destroy him, she would become him-one of his kind.

The common room had always felt large and open before, but standing inside the growing fire and forced to back away from Rashed, Magiere suddenly felt trapped in too small a s.p.a.ce. His physical presence felt too close, too immediate.

Rashed positioned himself between her and the open wall, standing his ground, waiting. She hated him for the murdering monster that he was, but admired his strategy in the midst of all this madness. He wasn't going to let her out. Whether he killed her with a sword or forced her to burn in the fire didn't matter. Before long, the second floor would cave in.

If that was his plan, then let him try. This time, she charged.

Steel clanked on steel, and Magiere forgot Rashed's grief at seeing Teesha's severed head.

Every move he made was familiar, as if she could feel his intent before the action. They each swung and blocked and swung again. Somewhere in the back of her thoughts a voice whispered that if they didn't run from the tavern soon, they would both burn to death. Did that matter? It didn't seem to matter to him. No, and nothing mattered to her but cleaving Rashed's head from his body.

Heat from the inferno around them caused her to choke, and the flames grew hotter and higher. His blade nearly caught her shoulder as she gulped in scorching air. He jerked his sword up and left himself wide open while attempting to cleave her skull. Instead of opting for a sane, defensive move, she thrust upward, aiming for his stomach.

"You fools!" someone shrieked.

The unexpected cry startled both of them and each missed their blow. Even through the smoke and fire, Magiere clearly saw a horrible visage that disrupted her bloodl.u.s.t.

Floating over Teesha's head was the ghost of a nearly beheaded man, his long yellow hair hanging from his tilted head. Magiere had thought nothing could shock her anymore, but even in her rage the bright hues of his open throat pulled her attention, flames flickering through his transparent body.

"You fools!" he repeated. His face exuded all the rage and venom she'd expected in Rashed's.

"Get away, Edwan," Rashed shouted over the fire. "Vengeance is beyond you."

"Vengeance?" the ghost answered in disbelief. "You murdered her. You and your pride. Can't either of you see what's happening? Did either of you want this?" He drifted down to kneel near Teesha's severed head, his face weeping, but without tears. "You slew my Teesha."

Magiere stumbled once. Nothing made sense. No action seemed correct. The heat inside her began to fade and, instead, she felt the bright flames around searing her flesh. Her leather armor smoldered in several places.

When she looked back to Rashed, she saw the tavern stairs behind him and realized they had maneuvered completely around each other. Her back was now to the opening in the front wall where he'd crashed through moments earlier.

Magiere backed up hesitantly.

"No!" Rashed shouted, flames reflecting off his hard crystal eyes.

An ear-splitting crack sounded overhead. Magiere's gaze turned up briefly. The upper floor began.to give way. The desire to survive won out.

She turned and dove through the jagged opening in the wall, shielding her face with one arm. Fresh air from the open street flooded inside her as she rolled once across the ground and came up to look back into the flames.

A heavy beam wider than his chest pinned Rashed to the floor, and he lay completely engulfed in flames, fighting to get up. His thrashing limbs were like waving branches of fire. Over the blaze's roar, she couldn't hear anything, and wondered if he was screaming.

The beheaded figure flitted about the room, in and out of the flames devouring Rashed. The ghost appeared to be laughing.

Magiere staggered back a few paces more and sank to the ground. She watched Rashed's writhing, burning form until he stopped moving. Then the entire upstairs floor caved in. Sparks flew like a thousand fireflies into the night air.

Aside from all the methods she had learned from villagers' folklore and legends, she thought burning an undead's body completely to ash was as good as any other way to destroy it.

Where was her earthen jar to trap his spirit now? Where were the peasants to sigh in relief? How brave, how very brave she was to have leaped away and watched her enemy become trapped under a flaming crossbeam. The topaz amulet around her neck glowed steadily.

A light brighter than the flames flashed beside her and the horrible visage of the beheaded man appeared close to her face. She cried out and fell backward.

"Over, over, over," the thing sang while floating in the air above her, its severed head close enough for her to see every minute detail. "Over, over, over, over..."