underwent the Transfiguration."

Ulien regarded him with narrowed eyes. "The counsel voted to approve you. It was unanimous. The Emperor himself-"

"It is a long story," Shadamehr said, abruptly ending the topic of conversation. "As to the vrykyl, if they do walk this world"-he quirked an eyebrow-"they walk it safe from me. I came to gather information on them. Nothing more."

"Then we are lost," Ulien said in despair.

Shadamehr placed a kindly hand on the trembling hand of his friend. "You are weary. You have not slept in days. Alise will give you a potion to help you find rest."

Alise was already removing a small potion bottle from a belt she wore around her waist. She handed the

potion to Ulien, explained the directions for its use.

"We will return in the morning," Shadamehr said, rising to his feet. "I would like to meet this dwarf and the commander, at least. You will point them out to me. Good-night, Ulien. Rest well."

"I will try, my lord," Ulien said unhappily. He held tightly to the potion.

* * * "Vrykyl!" Alise repeated the word accusingly, as soon as they were well away from Ulien's house. "So this is why you brought me!"

"And you thought it was for your red hair," said Shadamehr.

Alise gave a little sigh, which he did not hear, for he was humming a dance tune to himself. The town's

streets were empty. Windows in the houses were dark and shuttered. All the inhabitants were decently abed. Or perhaps not all.

"After all, you are the acknowledged expert- What was that?" Shadamehr asked suddenly, stopping

and turning his head.

"What was what?" Alise said. She had been walking the street abstracted, absorbed in her own thoughts.

"Someone pa.s.sed us," said Shadamehr. "He was keeping to the shadows, but I caught a glimpse of him

in the moonlight."

"A vrykyl?" Alise asked with a slight curl of her lip.

"No," said Shadamehr, continuing to stare behind him. "A dwarf. And he was headed in the direction of

Ulien's house."

"Which is the same direction as the city gate," said Alise in exasperation. "And the barracks. And the six

ale houses we pa.s.sed on our way. You know how restless dwarves are. He might be out for a nightly stroll."

"That's true," said Shadamehr, but he did not move.

"If you want to traipse after him, do so," Alise said in exasperation. "But I am bone-tired. I mean to

sleep until noon."

"He's gone. I don't see him." Shadamehr turned back and fell into step beside her. "You are probably right. Now, tell me all you know about vrykyl."

"I gave you my report in writing, my lord," Alise returned.

"Ah, but you know that I am no great reader," Shadamehr said with a laugh. "I glanced at it. I read

enough to know that I want nothing to do with these fiends-or the old wives who made them up, for

that matter. Tell me again. Just the main points."

Alise sighed, this time loudly, so that he would hear. "Very well, my lord. The vrykyl are creatures of the Void. Perhaps they date back to ancient times. We do not know for certain. All we do know is that when Prince Dagnarus turned to evil and became Lord of the Void, he received a most powerful artifact of Void magic known as the Dagger of the Vrykyl. With this dagger, he killed a living man and brought him back to life, granting him a horrible immortality. The vrykyl must continue to kill to maintain his life, feeding upon the souls of mortal beings. Lord Dagnarus created many vrykyl, who were constrained

to serve him alone. Vrykyl wear magical armor that gives them strength and prowess in battle and immense power in Void magic."

"If the Lord of the Void had the ability to create beings of such power, I am surprised the world is not

overrun with vrykyl," Shadamehr observed.

"Ah, but there is a catch," Alise replied, ignoring his bantering tone. "The man or woman who becomes

a vrykyl must give free consent. He must be willing to choose death over life. And he dies with the knowledge that the magic may not work."

"All this happened two hundred years ago, you say, when Dagnarus was alive. And no reports of anyone

seeing vrykyl since?"

"But there have been reports of mysterious deaths during those two hundred years, my lord," Alise said.

"Entire families slain, their faces frozen in terror as if the last sight they saw was a horrible one. And

every death the same-a single, small puncture wound to the heart. The mark of the soul-stealer dagger.

Thus the vrykyl have remained alive, waiting-some believe-for their lord to return."

"Which, according to what we hear from the Dunkargans, he has. Well, well, this is all very interesting."

He yawned widely. "Poor Brother Ulien. He was always a bit moonstruck. I think it must have

whalloped him a good one this time."

The inn was dark. The landlord had gone to bed but had left them a candle to light their way to the not overly clean rooms.

"Good-night, Alise," said Shadamehr, handing her the candle. "My room is next door to yours. You know the code. Knock three times if you need me."

He entered his room and shut the door.

Alise spread out her bedroll on the floor, not trusting the bed, which was already occupied by at least one c.o.c.kroach, who came out to glare at the light.

She put her hand to the wall, tempted to knock three times. But she withdrew her hand, after a moment.

She closed her eyes and resolutely tried to banish the touch of his sensual lips, the glittering blue eyes and that ridiculous mustache.

A thunderous knock on her door woke Alise from a sound sleep. She could hear the sounds of crashing furniture and cries coming from the room next door. Roused and alert, she was on her feet, the words of a magical spell on her lips, when the door burst open and three armed guards entered her room. They were prepared to face an earth mage, for one immediately knocked the requisite spell component-a bit of earth-from her hand, while another clapped his hand over her mouth.

Once she was pinned, the guards removed the belt which contained her potions and vials of holy earth.

They even had the temerity to pat their hands all over her body, searching for hidden objects, a task they enjoyed, by the leering grins. This done, they dragged her out into the hallway.

Shadamehr was neatly trussed and bleeding from a cut over one eyebrow. Two guards had tight hold of him. One of the guards was rubbing a swollen jaw and another nursing a cut lip. Looking past him, into his room, Alise saw another guard stretched out unconscious on the floor.

"Good morning, my dear," said Shadamehr. "Sorry about the early c.o.c.k-crow. I told these banty-legged louts you wanted to sleep late but they wouldn't listen."

"I was having a bad dream anyway," Alise said. "What is all this about?"

Shadamehr shrugged and shook his head. There was no more time for talk. The two guards dragged them down the stairs, where the innkeeper stood pleading with a man in uniform, frantically disavowing all knowledge of them. A glance outside showed the sky just starting to grow pinkish gold with the dawn.

The uniformed man was tall and brawny, with the black curly hair and swarthy complexion of the people of Karnu. He wore trappings of a commander in the Karnuan military and he carried at his side a most uncommon sword.

Alise looked intently at the weapon. The hilt and the scabbard were encrusted with rubies and jet, set in a fanciful design. Since she could not touch it with her hands, she stretched forth her other senses to try to touch the magic. The taint of Void was palpable. She almost gagged with the corrupt odor. She shifted her gaze from the sword to its owner.

The dark eyes were flat and cold, small and mean. He had the sort of mouth that rarely smiled and then only at the sight of someone being hurt. But was he a vrykyl? Could she tell by sight? From what little she had read, she could not. Not unless he was wearing his magical black armor. For the vrykyl could take on the appearance of any mortal they chose and their victims would never know until the soul- stealing blade pierced the heart.

The sword, though. That was definitely of the Void. When Shadamehr looked at her with a question in his eyes, Alise nodded her answer.

"Take them to the prison," ordered the commander, the first words he had spoken.

"Excuse me, sir, but I wouldn't mind knowing why we are being arrested," Shadamehr said, his tone mild, as if this little misunderstanding could be easily rectified.