She lifted her chin and gazed at him directly. "Then why are you speaking to me? Why do you not go to the door?"

"The magicks I will be working are best performed after darkness falls. Given the inaccuracies of the almanac of late, I couldn't be quite certain precisely when to arrive. Besides, I am enjoying our conversation. After hearing so much about you from my wife and Captain Branfort, I have been anxious to meet you myself."

He glanced at a nearby window; outside, the last light of afternoon was faltering. "It looks like we have a bit more time, Lady Quent. Come-a curious mind such as yours must be filled with questions. Ask me anything you like. I will tell you whatever you wish to know."

The last thing Ivy wanted was to engage in idle conversation with the man who had betrayed her father, and who had architected the plan to betray her by means of Lady Crayford and Captain Branfort. All the same, her mind schemed, trying to fathom how she might get away; the longer she could delay him, the more time it would give her to think of what to do.

"How is it you are a viscount?" she said. "There were many who stood between you and the t.i.tle Lord Crayford, were there not? I must suppose you murdered them all."

He affected a frown. "Really, Lady Quent, I am disappointed you would pose such an uninteresting question. There were not all that that many men in my lineage who had to pa.s.s away before the t.i.tle fell to me, and contrary to what you might think, there were none I did away with directly. Though if there were some who many men in my lineage who had to pa.s.s away before the t.i.tle fell to me, and contrary to what you might think, there were none I did away with directly. Though if there were some who were easily enticed to try a hand at magick, and to attempt things that were beyond their power..." He shrugged. "Well, it is not my fault if they lost their minds or their lives through such foolish acts." were easily enticed to try a hand at magick, and to attempt things that were beyond their power..." He shrugged. "Well, it is not my fault if they lost their minds or their lives through such foolish acts."

Ivy could imagine what encouragements Gambrel might have offered to the men who stood between him and the t.i.tle of viscount-men who, like him, were descended of one of the seven Old Houses of magick.

He strolled toward the marble fireplace, examining the crest above it, then turned around. "Now, Lady Quent, ask me what is really on your mind. I see you have found a fine example of the Dratham crest. Surely you have questions about him him."

Despite her dread of this man, and her antipathy toward him, Ivy could not deny that she was indeed curious to know more about Dratham.

"Was it he who made the door?" she asked. "Did he fashion Tyberion?"

"Fashion it?" Gambrel shook his head. "No, he did not fashion it, not precisely. From what we learned, Tyberion was a thing he discovered, and it is exceedingly ancient-a relic from a time long before history began. Yet he did work to shape it, giving it the form of a door it now holds."

"If it is a door, where does it lead?"

"It leads just where you would think from its name-to Tyberion."

She stared at him, fear replaced momentarily by astonishment. "You mean to the moon of Dalatair?"

"Precisely."

"But that cannot be!"

He stroked his chin as he regarded her. "I would not think you would make such a claim, Lady Quent. After all, did you not see through the Eye of Ran-Yahgren a place that was similarly far distant in the heavens?"

He was right. Through the Eye she had glimpsed the world Cerephus. If the artifact was a window to a planet, could not a door open to a moon?

Gambrel nodded. "Good, I see that you comprehend now. As did Dratham when he pa.s.sed through the door. He discovered that Tyberion was a sort of way station, for on its surface were a number of magickal doors, all of them protected from the frozen emptiness of the aether by a magickal dome. Long ago, the doors would have opened to many different places here on our own world, allowing one to travel swiftly over vast miles."

She struggled to comprehend this. "But why place the way station on a moon? If the doors led to places in this world, why wasn't it here?"

"Who can say what the intentions of the builders were?" Gambrel shrugged. "Perhaps there was some inherent property of the moon that lent a power to the doors, or perhaps the builders wished to keep them in a place that would not be easy for others to reach. Only someone did reach them, for as Dratham and his companions explored, they discovered that the doors no longer functioned-they had been destroyed. Except, after much searching, they at last came upon one door that was not completely broken, and which still retained a fraction of its enchantment. After much time and study, they were at last able to restore the door to working order, and in so doing they discovered that it led to a very interesting place."

A chill came over her. "What sort of place?"

"To a tomb," he said. "The tomb of a G.o.d."

"A G.o.d!"

He made a small flick of a hand. "Well, to the primitive peoples who knew the power of Neth-Bragga, he was as a deity. The Broken G.o.d, they called him, for his shape was so deformed, so twisted and hideous to look upon, that the mere sight of it induced delusions and shattered the mind."

Ivy shuddered at these words. "You said the door led to his tomb. This G.o.d-this being-you speak of must be dead."

"Can you really slay a G.o.d, Lady Quent?" Gambrel shook his head. "No, Neth-Bragga is not truly dead, not as we know the word. He merely slumbers, waiting for the time when he is awakened by the proper incantations. You see, many eons ago there was a great war-a war in which the stakes were no less than the whole of our world. Some believe that this war was won by mankind, but that is not true. The war never really ended. It has gone on in secret through the ages, even up to this very moment. A time comes soon when the war will no longer be waged in the shadows. It will be played out in the open, and we will all of us be made to choose whether we will fight against them and perish, or join them and be rewarded." was a great war-a war in which the stakes were no less than the whole of our world. Some believe that this war was won by mankind, but that is not true. The war never really ended. It has gone on in secret through the ages, even up to this very moment. A time comes soon when the war will no longer be waged in the shadows. It will be played out in the open, and we will all of us be made to choose whether we will fight against them and perish, or join them and be rewarded."

A horror had descended over Ivy as he spoke; the twilight seemed to press in from all around. "Who do you mean?" she said, hardly able to voice the words. "Who must we fight or join?"

"The Ashen, of course."

Ivy thought of the world of Cerephus, which she had glimpsed through the Eye of Ran-Yahgren, and of the dark creatures that had swarmed over its crimson surface. Her heart seemed to freeze in her chest.

"The Ashen," she murmured.

Gambrel glanced at a window. "I believe we have a little more time, Lady Quent. Let me tell you a bit more of the Ashen, and what I am doing to prepare the world for their coming."

One can be sensible to only so much terror. After a certain point is reached, no further fear can possibly be suffered. So it was with a kind of numbness that Ivy listened as Gambrel spoke.

It was her father, he said, who first learned of the door Tyberion, and those he entrusted this secret to-Gambrel, Bennick, Fintaur, Larken, and Mundy-helped him to further his research. In time they learned of the society of magicians Dratham belonged to, which met in a hidden room beneath a tavern on Durrow Street. It was from Dratham's order-the Occult Order of the Sword and the Leaf-that the tavern gained its name.

While the magicians who belonged to the order were gentlemen of modest fortune and family, they all rose to great wealth and prominence. The secret to their rise was the door Tyberion-or rather, what they found beyond it. On the cold, barren moon, they pa.s.sed through the one working door they found, and so reached the tomb of the Broken G.o.d. There, they discovered that the stone from which the tomb was built had remarkable properties. It had the power to increase the potency of any magick; that was surely the reason why it had been employed by the nameless magicians eons ago, during the war with the Ashen, to imprison Neth-Bragga. Where it was hewn from, Dratham did not know, though that its origin was not of this world, he had been certain. from which the tomb was built had remarkable properties. It had the power to increase the potency of any magick; that was surely the reason why it had been employed by the nameless magicians eons ago, during the war with the Ashen, to imprison Neth-Bragga. Where it was hewn from, Dratham did not know, though that its origin was not of this world, he had been certain.

Dratham and the other members of his order found that the stones could be arranged in ways that would greatly increase the effect of any spells they worked or arcane energies they summoned. They knew, with these stones, they could all become very powerful magicians. So they conspired to pry some of the stones from the walls of the tomb and bring them back. This they did by summoning daemons for slaves, and by fashioning a new path from the tomb of the Broken G.o.d. At last, by their efforts, they were able to retrieve some number of the stones.

"Did that not weaken the enchantment upon the tomb?" Ivy said, fascinated despite herself.

"Of course," Gambrel said. "They studied the enchantments wrought upon the tomb and decided it was a risk they were willing to bear. In the end, while the Broken G.o.d's prison was weakened, still it was not enough that he was awakened."

An idea came to Ivy, one she was suddenly certain was correct. "These stones they brought from the tomb-were they reddish in color, with darker flecks that catch the light?"

Gambrel laughed-a sound of genuine delight. "Once again, you know more than I would have thought you did. You are correct, Lady Quent. Dratham worked a number of stones from the tomb into the walls of this house-that is a great part of the power of its defenses. He hid them in plain view, blending them with stones of a more mundane origin, but which were a similar hue. The others of his order used the stones as well, employing them in various ways. Thus all of them were able to become greater magicians than they ever would have otherwise-though none so much as Dratham himself, for he gained more of the stones than anyone."

"That's why you want to go through the door," Ivy said, her voice quavering. "You want to gain some of these stones for yourself!" voice quavering. "You want to gain some of these stones for yourself!"

"I'm afraid this time you do not know as much as you think you do, Lady Quent," Gambrel said pleasantly. "My purpose is not to take stones from the tomb. Rather, my intention is to break open the tomb altogether."

A gasp escaped her. "Surely that will release the Broken G.o.d!"

"So it will."

Ivy held a hand to her brow; she felt as if she were the one who had gazed upon some hideous thing and had lost her senses. "You cannot think you could control such a being to use for your own gain. Why then would you seek to release one of the Ashen into our world?"

"Because they cannot be stopped," he said in his soft but compelling voice. "Cerephus returns, drawing ever closer in the heavens. One day, the Ashen will enter our world again, and the war against them will be waged anew. Only this time they will not be defeated."

"Why not? Reason holds that if they were defeated once, then they can be again."

He shook his head, his expression grave. "No, Lady Quent. The world is a different place now than it was then. This time, the Ashen will be victorious. Which means you can either struggle against them and be destroyed, or you can ally yourself with them and help to shape the future of our world."

A revulsion came over her. "No sane person would help you do such a terrible thing!"

"On the contrary, there are many who are doing so even now. Some of them are great men. There is a cleric I have met-a remarkable man who rises quickly in the Church of Altania. I have had him to my house on occasion. You should see the work he is doing in the name of the Ashen! It is because of men like him that the victory of the Ashen is a.s.sured. Your husband could be a great man as well, he could play an important role and be rewarded for it-if only you would encourage him to be so."

Now it was a kind of outrage Ivy felt. Who were these people, to make such decisions that would affect the fate of all people in the world? "If they would do such awful things, then they cannot be wise at all!" she exclaimed. "I do not know who these persons are who are helping you, Mr. Gambrel, but I a.s.sure you my husband will never be one of them, and neither will I." to make such decisions that would affect the fate of all people in the world? "If they would do such awful things, then they cannot be wise at all!" she exclaimed. "I do not know who these persons are who are helping you, Mr. Gambrel, but I a.s.sure you my husband will never be one of them, and neither will I."

Gambrel let out a sigh. "No, I don't suppose you will. I am saddened, but I cannot say I am surprised. Lady Crayford held out a hope that you might choose otherwise, but I knew if Lockwell had any influence upon you that you would not. Lockwell was never a pragmatist, not like me or Bennick. He was never willing to put aside his own silly notions of what was right and wrong and instead do what circ.u.mstance required. I see you are very like him in that regard."

He glanced at a window. "Well, the umbral falls. I'm afraid I must leave you now, Lady Quent. Or rather, you you must leave me. There's no need for you to take me upstairs-I am sure I can find Tyberion myself." must leave me. There's no need for you to take me upstairs-I am sure I can find Tyberion myself."

As he said this, he took something out of his coat pocket and held it on his palm: a piece of wood carved to resemble a gem. It looked, she thought, like just the sort of jewel that might fit in the pommel of a sword.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Quent. I have waited long years to use this key. To think, all this time it has been right above my head!"

She thought surely she had misheard him. "What do you mean?"

"In our meeting room beneath the tavern, there is another door-one that was also created by Dratham. Carved upon it are the shapes of a sword piercing a leaf. The door leads to a chamber we use as our innermost sanctum. Yet that chamber is not, in fact, located beneath the tavern. Rather, by a trick of magick, it lies beneath this very house."

Ivy could only stare, beyond words.

"Dratham wanted the chamber where the order performed their deepest magicks to be near his house," Gambrel went on. "That way their spells might gain the benefit of the stones from the tomb he had worked into the walls of the house. Magick was not at all tolerated then, so he wanted to make certain any who ever managed to find the chamber would not know where it was truly located. That was why there was no pa.s.sage leading from the house to the chamber below. Or at least, no pa.s.sage large enough for a person to move through. I have come upon a tiny hole in the ceiling of the chamber. No doubt he used it to eavesdrop upon other members of his order, for it would have carried sound up here into the house." "That way their spells might gain the benefit of the stones from the tomb he had worked into the walls of the house. Magick was not at all tolerated then, so he wanted to make certain any who ever managed to find the chamber would not know where it was truly located. That was why there was no pa.s.sage leading from the house to the chamber below. Or at least, no pa.s.sage large enough for a person to move through. I have come upon a tiny hole in the ceiling of the chamber. No doubt he used it to eavesdrop upon other members of his order, for it would have carried sound up here into the house."

He smiled at her. "I hope we have not ever kept you up at night with any of our incantations, Lady Quent. If so, do accept my apology. And now"-he closed his fingers around the wooden jewel-"it is time for you to leave me. I have sent one of the younger initiates in my order on a little errand, and he will be ready by now."

"Ready for what?" she said, edging farther away from him.

"To open a way for me, and then to be consumed by the Broken G.o.d," Gambrel said blithely. "Neth-Bragga will be angry after eons of imprisonment, and I do not wish for him to turn his wrath upon me."

Despite the awful things she had heard, this struck Ivy anew. "Turn on you? Should he not reward you instead?"

"No, that will be for the rest of the Ashen to do when they have won the war for this world. For Neth-Bragga will not endure long after he is released. Rather, he will be destroyed. But in his destruction he will work a great deed-one that will shape the events that are to come!"

Ivy could not imagine how the destruction of the being he sought to free could possibly be of a benefit to Gambrel, nor did she ask him about it. For as he spoke, she had edged farther away from him. She eyed the distance to the door of the library, planning the steps in her mind, and how she would shut the door behind her and throw the lock.

Before he could move, she sprang into action. She dashed across the front hall so rapidly he could not possibly have caught up to her. In a few swift strides she pa.s.sed through the door to the library- across the front hall so rapidly he could not possibly have caught up to her. In a few swift strides she pa.s.sed through the door to the library- -and found herself racing across the front hall.

It was as if she had run into a mirror, then had come back out of it just as her reflection might have. She stumbled to a halt. Before her, Gambrel raised his right hand. The ring upon it glittered with purple sparks.

"No, not that way," he said. "I have arranged a little affair for you out in the garden. You may think of it as your farewell party. I trust you will enjoy it. Now good-bye, Lady Quent."

Before she could try once more to flee, he spoke several sharp words and made a motion with his hand.

Again she was racing through the front hall, only this time it was not her feet that moved, but rather the hall itself. The room elongated and contracted around her in jarring spasms. Then, suddenly, she found herself standing on the step outside the front door.

"No!" Ivy cried out.

The sound of her voice was cut off by a thunderclap as the front door swung shut before her. There came the noise of a lock turning, and by the time she reached out to grasp the handle, it was too late.

FOR A TIME Ivy merely stood there, staring stupidly at the locked door, as the purple air thickened in the garden behind her. She could not move, could not think; she did not know what to do and so did nothing.

At last a sudden clatter of hooves drifted from off the street, and as if freed of a trance she drew in a gasping breath. Her heart soared. Mr. Quent had returned! She would tell him everything that had happened; he would know what to do.

Ivy turned from the door and ran past the stone lions, down the steps. Even as she did she saw a broad figure walking up the darkened path. Relief flooded through her.

"Mr. Quent!" she cried, running down the path to meet him. "Mr. Quent, something awful has-"

Ivy stopped short. The moon had just risen over the roofs of the Old City, and a pale beam, tinged crimson by the light of Cerephus, fell into the garden. The short, broad-shouldered figure drew closer along the path, stepping into that sickly light.

Ivy's elation was replaced by fear. She took a staggering step back, then started to turn to run.

"No, don't go!" Captain Branfort called to her, holding out a hand. "Please, Lady Quent, I won't hurt you, I swear it!"

It was not because she believed these words that she stopped; rather, her eyes went to the pistol that gleamed at his hip.

"If you mean what you say, then come no farther," she said, trying to master the trembling in her voice.

He stopped on the path and spread his arms wide. "As you wish, Lady Quent. As I said, it is not my intent to cause you any harm."

She could only be incredulous at these words. "Was it not your intent to cause harm when you went to the West Country to learn about me at the bidding of your master? Was it not your intent to harm when you deceived me as to your true intentions?"

A grimace crossed his handsome face. "It was never my intent," he said, his voice going low. "Yet I own that I did cause you harm, even as I harmed my own honor and reputation."

Now it was not fear she felt, but a most awful sorrow. She had thought him so kind, so gallant; she had thought Lily would favor him. And poor Mrs. Baydon-she was so fond of him. "Why?" Ivy said, and the word was hoa.r.s.e for the way her throat ached.

"He told me that the Wyrdwood must be destroyed."

Ivy shook her head; she did not understand. "The Wyrdwood?"

His eyes were lost in shadow. "You may already know this, Lady Quent-how all of my family was lost at the colony of Marlstown. I always wondered what had become of them; I thought I would never know. That ignorance was a burden that weighed upon me. Only then Captain Daubrent introduced me to Lord Crayford. The viscount told me he had discovered the truth-that it was the ancient forest that covers the New Lands that did it, that the Old Trees turned against the colonists. Just as they've begun to turn against people here in Altania." Crayford. The viscount told me he had discovered the truth-that it was the ancient forest that covers the New Lands that did it, that the Old Trees turned against the colonists. Just as they've begun to turn against people here in Altania."

Ivy could only stare, unable to speak.

"You have to understand," he said, taking a step toward her, his arms still outspread. "I never had the chance to save my parents in Marlstown, nor my brothers or sisters. But after I spoke to Lord Crayford, I thought perhaps I could at least save others here in Altania. So when he asked me to go to the West Country, I did."

"You were deceived!" she cried at last.

He gave a grim nod. "I know that now. He wanted me to learn as much about you as possible. I don't entirely know the reason why, but he told me that it was important. And I believed him after what I learned in the West Country, what I learned about the things you did there."

Ivy shivered. Again her eyes went to the pistol at his hip.

"I know what you are, Lady Quent. I heard rumors about it in County Westmorain, though I doubted its veracity at the time. Only then..."

"Then what?" she whispered.

His face was pale and anguished in the moonlight. The b.u.t.tons of his coat glittered in the pale illumination. It was then she noticed that, while there were four b.u.t.tons on the left cuff of his coat, there were only three on the right. A b.u.t.ton was missing.

One bra.s.s b.u.t.ton.

"You were there!" she gasped. "At the Evengrove. You saw Mr. Rafferdy and me at the wall."

He nodded, his expression grim. "I did. I looked into the pa.s.sage, and I saw the way you called to the trees-and how you calmed them. Lord Crayford said that women like you were a danger, that you would incite the Wyrdwood. Only you didn't incite. You stopped it."