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grip away.

By some exertion of tremendous strength, the once-knight gotone leg under himself and managed to drive himself up and fling her away. Shecareered backward, twisted as she reeled, and tried to take flight. But the menwere onto her, swords flashing and stabbing.

Blood spurted, and she screamed. It was not a scream ofpain, but of shear hatred, and she launched into the men knocking several over.The ones that were still upright began to scatter, but just then Caludrethreturned to the fray and fire spurted again from his fingers. Like strands of ropethe flames were, and they wrapped around her legs and climbed upward engulfingher in an inferno.

She was not done though, and Menendil feared she could neverbe killed. She came at Caludreth, fire twining up her body and sparking in herhair. Her hands reached for him, but one of the men struck her from behind andshe stumbled.

Caludreth had used up all his strength in magic, or else hetrusted more to steel and skill at arms. His sword flashed through the air in amighty blow and hewed her head off her neck.

Still the body came tumbling at him, and he kicked it away.The head rolled over the cobbles, and Menendil thought even now he saw her eyesfixed on the once-knight in hatred as her hair fully caught alight.

A terrible stench filled the air, and Menendil fought offthe urge to vomit. He glanced over at the palace gate and saw that the soldierswere gathering there, and there were more of them. With the creature dead, itwould not be long before they raced out.

His glance also took in the work the man with the chisel haddone. The seventh knight comes was carved there in large letters. It waseasily visible by the light of the burning corpse, and very soon daylight wouldreveal it to the world.

Their work was done, and all that remained now was to flee.

“Get home, boys!” he cried, and at his word they turned andran.

One they left behind, and he was dead. But the othersscattered to all corners of the square, for there were alleys and streets thatran onto it from many places.

Menendil raced over the cobbles. He was not a fast runner,and the others that had gone this way were ahead of him. Behind him he heard aclamor of shouting and knew the soldiers had hastened into action and were inpursuit.

It was not that though that sent a shiver of fear stabbingthrough him. From above, came that terrible but now familiar cry. AnotherelĂą-drak.

Menendil looked upward, and the thing hurtled from the skyat him. He dived and rolled. At least he tried to, but he was not as young ashe was. Somehow he cracked his head against the cobbles.

His fall might have saved him, for he remained low to theground. The creature passed over, but even as he tried to stagger to his feet awave of dizziness washed over him.

Desperate, sword in hand, he ran for the street that he hadbeen hoping to escape down, but blood dripped in his eyes from a gash he hadnot realized he had, and somehow he came to the wall of a building. He turnedto his right, wiping the blood away, but even as the street opening beckoned hesaw this new elĂą-drak land in front of him, blocking off his route.

She advanced, naked and terrible, her wings outstretchedlike shadows behind her, her chest heaving for breath and death in her wickedeyes.

Almost, Menendil hoped the soldiers would arrive to captureand save him, but from the corner of his eye he saw that they had halted again.They dared not approach.

He was going to die here, alone and unaided, for all his menhad scattered and were gone. Not that he blamed them, and two deaths for whatthey had achieved this night was a small price to pay.

18. You are Mine

Ferla cursed her stupidity. She had allowed herself to betaken, and she had never felt such fear in her life.

The bonds of magic burned into her spirit form like lashesfrom a whip. They were like fire, if fire could burn as ice.

Worse though was her humiliation. Bound, taunted and unableto fight back. She was at Savanest’s mercy, and she knew he had none.

His spirit form reached out and traced a cold hand down hercheek.

“You’re pretty, for a knight. But a knight doesn’t need goodlooks.”

She was not sure if that were a threat, but it could notreally be taken any other way. For the first time, she wondered if injuriesreceived during spirit walking could appear on her real body. How little sheknew of the magic she had invoked, and how foolish she had been to invoke itwithout proper knowledge.

Savanest looked deep into her eyes. “I see your fear, girl.You cannot hide it. You can hide nothing from me, for I own you now. You aremine, now and forever. I will treat you as I will, and you will learn to begfor a good word from me.”

He paused and considered her. “Would you like to learn thatnow? Will you beg for my favor now, or must I break you first?”

His eyes gazed deep into hers. “It may be that I will enjoybreaking you.”

Ferla’s fear redoubled. His words were bad enough, but indefiance she did not look away from his terrible glance. And she saw somethingin it that forced panic to rise up inside her.

Savanest’s pupils were large and dark, but it seemed to herthat she saw something more. She saw, in each eye, the black Morleth Stone. Shefelt the power of it, and the unnamed sorceries that churned within.

And she felt the will of the artifact. It was alive, and itthought, and considered and plotted. She felt it stir, and it began to reachout to her.

All her fears from before had been as nothing. Now, sheunderstood what it intended. It would bend her to its will. It would make her aMorleth Knight, and she would betray her friends, and Faran, and all Alithoras.She would be turned to evil, and she would know but be unable to halt heractions.

Savanest laughed softly, and

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