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Vangerdahast’s heart sank. “The last time you saw her?”

“I am afraid the ghazneth has her,” said Owden. “The king has seen her once, as he was closing in on the creature’s lair and it was forced to move her.”

“By Thauglor’s scales!” Vangerdahast started to rise, only to find himself still tied into bed. He stared at the silken bindings in confusion for a moment, then said, “Get these things off of me! We’ve got work to do.”

“Your work can wait a little longer,” said Owden. “You will not be fully cured until you have faced the demon within.”

“The demon within?” Vangerdahast demanded.

“Each of us carries our own demon inside,” Owden explained. “Most of us keep it imprisoned in the deepest, darkest part of our souls where it can do no harm. But when we undergo a terrible trauma such as you and the king suffered, these demons can escape.”

Vangerdahast turned to Azoun. “What nonsense is this?”

“Vangerdahast, maybe you’d better listen.”

“To a groundsplitter?” the wizard huffed. “Has Tanalasta finally gotten to you?”

A pained expression came to the king’s face, and he looked away without speaking.

“I’m afraid that would be impossible,” said Alaphondar, speaking for the first time. “We haven’t been able to convince you to tell us what became of the princess.”

Vangerdahast scowled. “What do you mean, ‘convince’? She’s with Rowen Cormaeril. They pulled away from me when I teleported back here.” He looked from Alaphondar to Azoun to Merula. “Is somebody going to tell me what’s happening here?”

“Of course,” said Owden. “Your inner demon escaped, and you need to recapture it.”

“Recapture it?”

“Before it consumes you entirely,” confirmed the priest. “You must look deep within yourself and face it, here before these witnesses. You must tell us what the demon wants, then you will have the strength to control it.”

Vangerdahast grew instantly suspicious. They were trying to extract a confession from him, but why? After all he had done for the realm, could Azoun actually be frightened of him? Or jealous of his power? The wizard turned to berate the king for his pettiness-and realized that was exactly what Owden wanted. Rebuking the king would only feed Azoun’s suspicion and breed resentment, while confessing to a secret envy of the royal birthright-as farfetched as that might be-would make it all but impossible for Azoun to trust him completely again. In either case, Owden would be standing by, ready to replace Vangerdahast’s counsel with his own-and to replace the war wizards with his Royal Temple of Chauntea.

Vangerdahast whirled on the priest. “You dirt-grubbing worm! You fork-tongued, scaly-bellied, lying snake. Do you really think you can meddle in royal affairs? I’ll see you growing mushrooms in the dungeon cesspits before I name my demons in front of you!”

Vangerdahast summoned to mind a spell he could cast with voice alone and began to utter his incantation. Owden reached for something, but the king raised his hand and waved him off.

“I’d say Vangerdahast is back to normal.”

Vangerdahast finished his spell, and in the next second was lying on his bed in the form of a small mink. He rolled to all four feet and dashed out from beneath the sheet, darting between Alaphondar and Merula into a nearby corner. There he stopped and changed back to his normal form, then turned to face his nervous-looking companions.

“Are you going to stand there and stare, or hand me a robe?” he demanded. “We’ve got work to do.”

Owden started around the bed. “You can’t do this,” he said. “You’re not ready.”

“Harvestmaster Foley, if you mention my inner demon one more time, I swear you’ll spend the rest of your life dodging thrushes in the palace gardens.”

Owden stopped at the foot of the bed and looked to Azoun.

The king only smiled and shrugged. “What can I say? Vangerdahast has always had a bit of the demon in him.” He looked to Merula, then added, “You heard the royal magician. Find the man his robe.”

As Merula scrambled to obey, Vangerdahast bowed to the king and said, “Thank you, Sire. It’s good to see that someone around here has returned to his senses.”

The wizard smoothed his beard, then ran a hand through what remained of his hair and noticed the slashes across the top of his head. He ran his fingers along the scars, noting that they had already sealed themselves.

“By Thauglor!” he cursed. “How long did you let me sleep?”

Azoun looked uncomfortable. “You’ve been… asleep for five days.”

“And you couldn’t wake me?” Vangerdahast whirled on Owden. “Aren’t you priests good for anything?”

Owden’s expression turned stormy, but before the priest could say anything, Azoun took Vangerdahast by the elbow and guided him toward a table and chairs.

“We’d better sit down and have a talk, old friend,” he said. “We’ve got some planning to do, and there are a lot of things we both don’t know.”

13

The swarm hung low in the northern sky, a whirling flock of dark specks almost invisible against the looming wall of Anauroch’s golden sand dunes, spiraling down toward the jagged vestige of a lonely keep tower.

Alusair’s trail ran toward the ruin as straight as an arrow.

Tanalasta did not have the courage to voice her thoughts, but there was little need. After four days of dodging gnolls and ghazneths in the dusty vastness that separated the Stonelands from the Goblin Marches, she and Rowen had developed an uncanny instinct for what the other was thinking. The ranger removed the saddlebags from his shoulder and opened the flap, then passed the princess her weathercloak and bracers.

“I wouldn’t worry,” said Rowen. “If Alusair thought she was in more trouble than she could handle, she’d put on her signet and call Vangerdahast.”

“And how many times have you seen her do that?” It was a rhetorical question, and Tanalasta did not wait for an answer. “Besides, what good would Vangerdahast be? With so many ghazneths, his magic would be useless.”

Rowen regarded the distant specks for a moment. “I still think there is good reason to hope. If the matter were decided, why would they still be in the sky?”

He closed the saddlebags again and picked up his makeshift pike, which Tanalasta had fashioned by binding the iron dagger to the end of a sturdy elm branch. Though the weapon was more cumbersome to carry and use than a knife, it would also allow Rowen to strike with more power-and perhaps help keep him out of his foe’s reach. The princess draped the weathercloak over her shoulders, then followed the ranger’s lead and crouched down behind a waist-high clump of silvery smokebush. It would be a long crawl to the ruined keep, but the dusty plain was as level as a lake and cover was scant.

They moved in short bursts, running from bush to bush in a low crouch or crawling across open areas on hands and knees. They were careful to keep one eye fixed on the distant swarm of ghazneths and the other on the underbrush, since the plain’s deadly assortment of snakes, arachnids, and chilopods all liked to hide in the relative safety of the spindly thorn bushes. Several times, Tanalasta found herself backing away from the widespread mandibles of a charging centipede or the upraised stinger of an angry scorpion, and once Rowen had to catch the fangs of a striking wyv snake on the butt of his pike.

As they drew nearer to the keep, they began to notice individual specks swooping down into the ruins or rising up from behind the bailey wall to rejoin the main swarm. Tanalasta’s stomach grew hollow with dread, and she chafed at the delay of their stealthy approach. She and Alusair were not the closest of sisters, but they were sisters, and she kept having gruesome visions of ghazneths quarreling over Alusair’s lifeless body.

Rowen seemed to sense Tanalasta’s growing disquiet. He ran faster and for longer periods, paying less attention to concealment as they went. The princess appreciated his concern, but she also knew they would be no help at all if the ghazneths saw them coming. Already, she could see the distinctive shape of the creatures’ outstretched wings, and it would not be long before they drew close enough for the things to spy them rushing through the brush. Tanalasta was about to remark on her concerns when the ranger suddenly stood up straight.