Twenty

The Hag sat in her cave staring deep into her cauldron. As she watched, Captain Evann scurried around her camp like a chicken with its head cut off, dragging the creature he thought was Orin Hawk to the stables, then to the armory tent, then back to his men. She chuckled. If he only knew the truth, it would frighten him as much as she had.

The serpents where her feet should have been led out a series of hissing sighs. They sensed her triumphant mood.

“What do you think, pretty-pretty?” she asked.

Beside her, the real Orin Hawk shifted. He was staring down at the cauldron as well, watching the scene outside.

“Will it work?” he asked. “Will that creature fool them?”

“Don’t my plans always work?”

“Yes,” he said. He kissed the back of her neck. She smiled.

“Yesssss …” she echoed. She began to scream with laughter.


Candabraxis woke suddenly from a light fever. He sat up, not sure where he was.

“Light!” he commanded in a croaking voice. A glowing sphere of energy sprang into existence overhead. Its wan glow showed him his bedchamber in Castle Graben’s east tower.

Suddenly everything came back to him. The market—the man who’d tried to stab him—

“Easy,” said a woman’s soft voice. “Lie back, now.”

He focused on her: an old woman with a plain face, graying brown hair, and clear blue eyes. She had a shawl around her shoulders. She’d been sitting up beside him.

“Who are you?” he said. “What happened to me?”

“My name is Mari,” she said. “You were nearly killed in the market.” She told him all that had happened and how she had saved his life.

“I am indebted to you,” he said softly. He sank back, staring up at the ceiling.

“You are indebted to no one,” Mari said. “It is our duty to strive against the dark forces whenever they appear among us.”

“You know magic?” he asked. He propped himself up on his elbows and regarded her with new interest. His master had talked like that at times. Duty, responsibility, fighting for justice—these things had been stressed to him time and again throughout his studies. He’d thought these lessons merely the eccentricities of an old wizard, but now …

“No,” she said, “I know no magic. I am just a poor old healer. But I listen and I learn. My grandmother, now, she had a real talent, bless her.”

“I think you sell your skills too cheaply, Mari. But perhaps that’s best, if you want to avoid notice by the dark forces.”

She smiled. “Perhaps.” Taking up her knitting, she began work again. It was another shawl, this one yellow and peach.

He looked off to the distance, considering all that had happened. Good and evil had seemed like such abstract concepts in his studies. Now that he’d encountered the dark forces, now that they had almost killed him, he felt as though a veil had been lifted from his eyes. No longer academic concepts, they had become all too real.

It had to have been the Hag, he thought. Somehow she’d become aware of him. Her attempts to scry on him told him that much. Perhaps his flash-of-light spell had done more than drive her away. Perhaps it had angered her enough to make her want to kill him.

But why? He had never done anything to her.

Or had he?

With a sick feeling in his stomach, he recalled suggesting the rescue of Orin Hawk. Had that been enough for her to have him murdered?

He pressed his eyes shut. Probably. One who attracts the attention of an abomination as powerful as the Hag has to expect things like this to happen.

Duty. Responsibility. Justice.

He understood now. It all came clear. He had been drawn to Grabentod not for some great personal destiny, but to learn the nature of life.

I have to fight for what I believe in, he told himself. I have to make a difference in the world.

Clearly the Hag feared his powers. Why else would she try to kill him at such a distance and at such a great effort? And for such a being as her to fear him, he must pose a threat to her, or at least to her comfort and security.

He sat upright, taking a series of deep breaths. For a second his head swam drunkenly, but then the universe steadied around him. Bandages swathed his right hand, and when he wiggled his fingers experimentally, a sharp stab of pain traveled from his palm to his elbow.

“You must rest!” Mari protested.

“I have too much to do,” he said with determination.

A thousand ideas surged through his mind— spells and counterspells, charms and elixirs and potions. And then he conceived of something new—a huge, powerful rune of protection like none he’d ever seen before. It hung in his mind, a vision of perfection.

He could do it, he knew suddenly. He could protect Castle Graben from the Hag.


The serpent reared back, looking Haltengabben in the eyes. Its fangs glistened with poison. Its tongue flicked out, tasting the air.

Haltengabben concealed her shudder of disgust and fear by picking up the small silver knife on her desk. She used it for a letter opener, but it could be a deadly weapon in her hands as well.

“Ssssooo,” the serpent said, “what of our bargain?”

“I have taken steps—”

“The wizard is still alive!”

“The wizard is under the protection of the regent,” Haltengabben said. “Things are difficult. I need more time to work—”

“No more time!” The serpent wove its head before her and gave a low hiss. “The contract is canceled! I will dispose of the wizard myself!”

Rearing back, the serpent faded from view, evaporating like a morning fog beneath a hot sun.

Haltengabben swallowed. She almost felt sorry for the wizard. Almost.

Mostly she felt sorry for herself. A pound of gold, lost… and now she’d have to make up for the assassin’s death from her own pocket.

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