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"Knock it off, Chane," said Tal. He fixed his eyes on Dar-row. "What happened to her?"

"I don't know how she was captured, but she's been Lord Malveen's prisoner for over a year."

"There is no Lord Malveen," interjected one of the players. He was a pretty man with long black curls.

"Stannis Malveen still lives-if that's the word for it- in the ruins of House Malveen," Darrow said. "Everything that's happened to you started with him."

"Tell me everything," said Talbot.

"I will," Darrow promised, "but you've got to promise to help me get Maelin out of there."

"No promises," said Talbot, "but if you make yourself useful, I won't break your neck right now."

Darrow didn't believe the threat… not until he met Talbot Uskevren's unwavering eyes. They were the color of unpolished steel, dead and strong. He realized that he had put himself completely in the other man's power. He might be able to win past all the players and even Feena, if he were lucky, but he could not oppose this man that Rusk called the Black Wolf.

"Start from the beginning," said Talbot, glancing up through the open roof. "And make it quick. The moon is coming."

Darrow took a breath and obeyed. He hoped his new master would be merciful.

*****

Talbot was quiet for a long time after Darrow finished his tale. He had told it carefully, trying not to make too much of his desire to release Maelin from captivity, but leaving unspoken his own participation in the pack's High Hunts and callous defense of their territory. Judging by Feena's steady gaze, his guilt was not forgotten, nor forgiven.

The cleric had turned away from him only long enough to say her prayers at moonrise. Having listened carefully to Darrow's tale, she called on Selune for protections against the undead as well as spells to heal the wounded and harm the wicked. Afterward, she sat rocking slightly in a gesture that reminded Darrow of his own inner contest with the moon. She was calling to his wolf, and he had to concentrate to contain it. He had little doubt that his sudden transformation would be all the excuse Feena needed to execute him.

If Talbot felt the call, it did not show. He sat pensively, his fingers trailing the length of the gigantic sword he held on his lap. Whatever he was thinking, he did not share with the others.

Quickly lit a fresh bowlful of tobacco and broke the silence.

"Werewolves and vampires," she said. "This'll make a great play when it's all done."

Talbot began to protest, but then he sighed. "You might as well," he said. "There's no hiding it after last night."

"I want to play this Sorcia," said a slim, androgynous woman. Darrow was astonished at her aplomb.

"Sivana!" said Feena.

"Can I play Tal?" said a big, goofy looking fellow. He had the size for it, if no other resemblance to the Black Wolf.

"Not you, too, Ennis! Listen," said Feena sharply. "I know you're just trying to lighten the mood, but this doesn't help."

"Sorry," said the man with black curls. "Tell us what we can do to help."

"Absolutely nothing, Mallion," said Talbot. "I've already brought more than enough trouble to the playhouse. From now on, I'll deal with it on my own."

"Not alone," warned Feena.

"No," agreed Tal reluctantly. "I'll need your help."

"And mine," said a short, blond man who seemed somehow out of place among the players. He stood up and winced as if injured.

"Forget it, Chane," said Tal. "You've taken more than your share of lumps lately."

"It's my prerogative as the best friend," said Chaney. "I'm the-what do you call it in the plays, Quickly?"

"The male confidant," said Quickly, tossing him a wink.

"What does that make me, fifth business?" said Sivana. She twirled a polished long sword in her hand. It shone red under the light of the continual flame brands Lommy had set on the gallery support beams and the edge of the stage. "You taught us how to fight with these, Tal. It's time we returned the favor by putting them to real use."

Mallion agreed, stabbing one of the benches with his own blade. Quickly gave him a dire glance, and he pulled it out and hid the scar in the wood with his boot.

"This is not a play," said Tal. "You saw what happened last night, and that was nothing compared to what happened last time Rusk was here."

"He's got a point, dearies," said Quickly. "I was here for that, and it wasn't pretty."

"You were down in the abyss with me the whole time," protested Chaney. "Neither of us saw anything but that nasty severed arm and the mess he made of Tal's insides."

"I saw your insides right afterward," countered Quickly.

"Quiet!" thundered Tal. His voice resonated throughout the playhouse, and several of the players flinched at its unexpected volume. Seeing that he had their attention, he continued. "I love you all," he said. "Except you," he amended with a cold glance at Darrow. "One wrong move, and I will throttle you."

"I know," said Darrow.

"Good," said Tal. "The rest of you, I appreciate the sentiment. You're closer to me than my own family-"

"Damning us with faint praise," snorted Sivana.

"-and twice as disagreeable," said Tal. "But there's no way I can let you-"

"Tal Tal Tal Tal!" sang the tiny arboreal creature as it scampered down from the thatched roof. "They are here! They are here!"

"I knew it!" said Feena. "He led them to us."

She grasped her silver talisman and raised a finger toward him. Talbot laid a gentle hand on her arm even before Darrow protested.

"I didn't!" he said. "It's an obvious place for them to look."

"Who's here?" asked Mallion.

"Who else?" said Talbot. "Dark and empty, everyone get out of here, now! It's time I dealt with Rusk for good."

"Uh uh," said Chaney. "I'm staying."

"Me, too," said Feena.

Sivana and Mallion already brandished their blades, and Quickly adjusted her pipe and lifted a big spiked mace from behind one of the benches. "Sorry, sweetheart. You're a big, bad wolf, but this is still my playhouse. Nobody busts it up without coming through me."

Seeing the resolve in her face, Talbot gave in. "All right," he said, nodding at Darrow. "You keep an eye on this one, Sivana. That sword can kill him."

"Sugar," said Quickly, "every weapon in this house can hurt him."

"What do you mean?" said Talbot.

"After last year's 'incident,' I made a little investment. All the blades are silvered, and this is my fourth husband's enchanted mace. This pack of yours doesn't know what it's in for."

Talbot stared briefly, then plucked the pipe from the big woman's mouth and kissed her full on the lips before replacing it. She blew a smoke ring at him.

"If you're staying, then do as I say," he said to everyone. "Rusk's here for me, but we can't trust him. If he'll fight me alone, the rest of you stay back. Agreed?"

The players and Chaney nodded reluctantly, but Feena set her chin defiantly. Tal sighed but did not challenge her.

"If you beat him," said Darrow, "you command the pack."

"I'll believe that when I see it," said Tal. "It sounds too easy."

"Maybe so," said Darrow, "but they respect strength. Show them anything else, and-"

A tremendous crash shook one of the public doors.

Quickly hefted her mace and went through the lower gallery, where she could reach the bolt from the side. "Ready?"

Tal checked to make sure the others were well back. Chaney and Lommy had already slunk into the shadows of the lower gallery, and Darrow stood by himself on one side of the yard. The remaining players stood with swords in guard before the stage. They made an odd trio, giant, pretty man, and manly woman. Feena stood before them, silver talisman in hand.

Something slammed into the door again, but the bolt held.

Tal nodded to Quickly, and she stretched over the rail to grasp the latch. With a twist and a pull, she released the bolt.