"Kestrel, Eriale! What happened? Why are you here so soon?" Aeron ushered them into the tower's entry hall.
Kestrel stepped inside, his face blank. "We had to talk to you, Aeron." He glanced back at the third member of their party-a large, broad-shouldered man-and waved him forward. "I've brought Phoros Raedel to see you."
Aeron started in surprise as the nobleman took off his dripping hood and fixed an angry glare on him. After a long moment, Aeron managed to say, "I never thought I'd find you on my doorstep."
"I would have avoided this if there were any other alternative, Morieth." Phoros shifted uncomfortably, his face set in an uncompromising scowl.
"Alternative to what?" Aeron demanded.
Eriale stepped forward and laid her hand on Aeron's arm. "Aeron, listen. He's come to ask your help."
The mage snorted in anger. "You're joking."
"It's true, Aeron," said Kestrel. "Hear him out."
Raedel glowered until his face shone red. He said, "That black-hearted scoundrel Crow has turned me out of my own castle. I want your help in getting rid of him."
Aeron folded his arms and turned a flat stare on the nobleman. "You sought his services to put me in my place. If you don't want Master Crow under your roof anymore, get rid of him yourself."
Raedel bridled. "I knew this was a bad idea," he rasped.
He spun on his heel and strode toward the door, fuming.
Eriale glared at Aeron. "You're better than that, Aeron," she snapped. She started after Raedel and caught him as he opened the door. "Wait, my lord. You need his help."
"I'll be damned if I'm going to beg for it!" the count roared, wheeling on her. "If he can't be bothered with driving a black-hearted necromancer out of the town he grew up in, then so be it! I'll find a way to do it myself."
Kestrel stepped in front of Aeron and pointed out the open door. "Aeron, this is foul sorcery. The land suffers under a curse of some kind. You're the only person we know with knowledge of these things. You might not care a whit about Phoros Raedel's troubles, but the count's woes are the woes of all Maerchlin. The villagers and forest-folk don't deserve this." He fixed his keen eyes on Aeron's face, refusing to allow the mage to look away. Eriale and Phoros paused by the door.
Aeron glanced at Phoros and back to Kestrel. He sighed and waved his hand to indicate the midday gloom and the filthy, clinging damp. "This isn't Crow's doing. They're both symptoms of the same disease. I don't have any idea of how to break the spell that's poisoning the land."
Phoros weighed Aeron for a long moment. "You say that Crow's just a part of this. Fine. But if you don't have any other place to start, it can't hurt to treat a symptom. He's using sorcery to eat the minds of my people, Morieth. My people, the people who look to me to defend them! I've never sought to rule by holding a man's will in my fingers. If you let Crow stay in Maerchlin, he's going to turn this entire province into a charnel house."
Aeron grimaced. "All right. Master Crow is the least of our worries, but there's no sense in allowing him a free hand to ruin Maerchlin. We'll see what we can do." And it might be that I can get some answers from him, he thought to himself. He looked at Kestrel and Eriale. "Do you want to rest here tonight and set out tomorrow morning?"
Phoros shook his head. "I don't want to give him any more time to consolidate his position."
Kestrel nodded in agreement. "We've still got a few hours of daylight. Let's make use of them."
Aeron acquiesced. He took his cloak and satchel from the pegs by the door, and summoned his gleaming staff to his hand from its place in the library. "Baillegh!" he called. The silver hound appeared in the door, tail wagging. Aeron shrugged. "I'm ready," he said.
They set out through the mist-shrouded forest. Aeron guided them along a series of hidden tracks that he used whenever he was in a hurry; the paths were enchanted with an old elf spell, ancient when Chessenta was young, arrowing straight through the Maerchwood but ghosting through another realm, winding and twisting in and out of a world of silver mists and dark, silent trees. They camped a few miles south of Maerchlin, enduring a cold meal and the damp chill of the night without the comfort of a fire-no suitable wood could be found. As they ate, Raedel bitterly described how Crow had worked his wiles against the knights and officers of his court, slowly turning them against their rightful lord until every command Raedel issued was referred to Crow before it was carried out.
"Did you try to make him leave?" Aeron asked.
Phoros nodded with a savage jerk of his head. "The bastard laughed at me. He laughed! I went after him, of course. I had my hands around his scrawny neck before he could even mutter the first word of a spell. But my own guardsmen pulled me away from him and locked me in my chambers."
Aeron watched the count for a long moment. He had little liking for Phoros Raedel, but he still felt a fleeting sympathy for the noble. For a man born and bred to lordship, it must have been humiliating in the extreme. He chewed his lip, thinking. "To break Crow's influence over your captains and officers, we'll have to force him to release his spell. Or slay him."
Phoros grinned ruthlessly. "I don't think I'll bother to ask him if he wants to cooperate."
* * * * *
The next morning, they rose early and returned to the trail. The clinging mists lifted somewhat, revealing a motionless gray overcast that brooded with the threat of rain, and the temperature plummeted. At first Aeron thought that the change in the weather might be a sign of improvement, but as the day grew colder and grayer each hour, he realized that they were seeing nothing more than a change in the face of the ubiquitous gloom that had fallen over the land. The seasons were out of order, and he could only perceive the dimmest threads of the Weave flickering dully in the sodden landscape.
"Where is everyone?" Eriale asked, studying the village and the outlying farms. "At this time of day, there should be people out and about."
Phoros Raedel spat and knelt down to seize a handful of water-logged earth. Fat white worms squirmed through his fingers as he straightened up and showed it to the girl. "What's the point in reaping these fields?" he snarled in disgust. "It's all like this. Come on."
"How are we going to do this?" asked Aeron. "If we're careful, we can get right up to the castle without being seen, but how are we going to get in? The postern gate?"
"Don't you have some magic to whisk us into my hall from right here?" Raedel asked over his shoulder.
"I'd rather save my magic until I'm certain we need it," Aeron replied. "The last time I was here, Crow had a warding set around the castle to counter spells of that sort."
Raedel snorted. "Wonderful. Well, I've got another idea."
Aeron nodded, understanding. "You must have had a secret way out. You said Crow had had you locked in your chambers, but you never told us how you got away."
The count scowled at Aeron. After a long moment he said, "The tunnel emerges in the underbrush by the mill pond. He'll know that's how I got out, though." Raedel led them through the back streets of the town, staying out of sight of the castle's gate, until they'd circled around to the pond a hundred yards or so behind the angular keep. A stout wooden hatch was tucked away out of sight, covered with years of dirt and undergrowth that had recently been brushed aside.