Kara ate in silence, purposely keeping her gaze from the ungodly pair as much as possible. The less she drew their attention, especially that of Tryst, the better. Unfortunately, just as she reached the bottom of the bowl, the more vocal revenant suddenly rasped, "Is it… does it taste… good?"

The peculiar question so caught her by surprise that she had to look at him. "What?"

One pale, peeling finger pointed at the bowl. "The food. Does it… taste… good?"

Some bit remained, more than Kara truly desired at the moment. She considered what she knew of undead, never recalling any with an appetite for fish stew. Human flesh, yes, in some cases, but never fish stew. Still, on the off chance that it might ease tensions a little, the necromancer held out the bowl and, in a steady voice, asked, "Would you like to try it?"

Tryst looked at Fauztin, who remained the immovable rock. The slimmer ghoul finally stepped forward, seized the food, then immediately returned to his favored spot. Kara had never known that a walking corpse could move with such speed.

With decaying fingers he took some of the remnants and stuck them in his mouth. Sadun tried to chew, fragments of fish dropping to the floor. Despite the fact that both he and the mage acted as if living, the dead man's body did not completely function as it had previous to his murder.

He suddenly spat out what remained, at the same time a monstrous expression crossing his rotting countenance. "Filth! It tastes… it tastes of… death." Sadun eyed her. "It's too long dead… they should have… cooked it… less… a lot less." He considered this crucial matter more, eyes never leaving Kara. "I think… maybe they should have… not cooked it… at all… the fresher… the better… eh?"

The raven-haired woman did not reply at first, having no desire whatsoever to prolong a conversation that might turn to exactly what types of meat the ghoul would think tasted best uncooked. Instead, Kara tried to turn back to the subject of most concern to her-the hunt for Norrec Vizharan.

"You were aboard the Hawksfire, weren't you? You were aboard until whatever happened that caused the crew to abandon her."

"Not aboard… underneath… for the most part…"

"Underneath?" She pictured the two clutching the hull, using their inhuman strength to hold on even through the most turbulent of waves. Only a revenant could have accomplished such a harrowing effort. "What do you mean… for the most part?"

Sadun shrugged, sending his head wobbling for a moment. "We came aboard… for a short… time… after the fools jumped… ship."

"What made them leave?"

"They saw… what they didn't like to see…"

Not a very helpful answer, but the longer Kara could keep the conversation going, the less time the pair had to think about what else they might need of her-and what it might cost the necromancer.

Once more Kara thought about their unholy perseverance. The revenants had managed to nearly catch up with their prey, even latch themselves onto the hull of his vessel like a pair of lampreys onto a shark. The vision of the two undead clinging to the underside of the Hawksfire throughout the violent storm they had earlier mentioned would forever be seared into the necromancer's imagination. Truly Norrec Vizharan would not escape their brutal justice.

And yet… he so far had, even with them within yards of his throat.

"If you and he were alone aboard the ship, then why is the hunt not yet over?"

A decidedly grim change came over Tryst's smile, managing to make his general appearance even more ghastly than previous. "It should… have been."

He would say no more and when Kara looked to Fauztin, his dark visage revealed nothing. She pondered their responses as rapidly as she could, finally deciding to try to play on their failure aboard the Hawksfire. "I can be of more help to you, you know. Next time, nothing will go awry."

This time, Fauztin blinked once. What that meant, the necromancer could not say, but the Vizjerei's action had been for some specific reason.

Sadun Tryst's eyes narrowed slightly. "You'll be… of all the… help… we need. Trust on… that…"

"But I could be more than your unwilling puppet. I understand what drives you. I understand why you walk the earth. As an ally rather than a prisoner, the possibilities of what you can accomplish grow tenfold and more!"

Silent, the wiry corpse tossed and caught his own dagger a few times, something he had done often since his arrival. Apparently even death could not break some habits. Kara thought he did it whenever he had to concentrate especially hard. "You understand… less than you think."

"All I am trying to say is that we need not be adversaries. My spell stirred up your murdered spirits, set you on this quest, and so I feel some responsibility. You seek this Norrec Vizharan, so do I. Why can we not work as allies?"

Again the mage blinked, almost as if he might have wanted to say something-an impossibility, of course. In lieu of that, he glanced down at his companion. The two undead shared a long gaze, which made the enchantress wonder if they communicated in some manner beyond her ken.

The grating sound of Sadun Tryst's unearthly chuckle filled the tiny cabin, but Kara knew better than to hope that Captain Jeronnan or one of the crew would hear. The Vizjerei had cast a spell deadening all sounds within. As far as the men of the King's Shield might be concerned, the necromancer made no more noise than if she now slept peacefully.

"My friend… he brings up an… amusing point. You… as our good ally… would surely… expect your dagger back… eh?" When she had no good reply, Trystadded, "Not a bargain… we could very much… live with… if you know what I mean."

Kara understood very well. Not only did the dagger give them power over her, but it likely served as a focus for that which let them function on the mortal plane. The ritual blade had been what had first summoned the phantasm of Fauztin and the probable result of taking it from them would be that both bodies would simply collapse, the vengeful shades sent back to the afterlife forever.

This pair would have none of that.

"You'll aid us… as we need. You'll serve… as the cloak covering… the truth from… those we meet. You'll do… what we can't do… in the light of day… where all can see…"

Fauztin blinked for a third time, a very distressing sign. He had never before taken such a visible interest in their conversations, preferring everything to come from his more vocal companion.

Tryst rose, ever smiling. The more Kara Nightshadow thought of it, the more she realized that the smile never truly left the slimmer ghoul's face save when its owner forcefully chose to make it go, as when the food had so disgusted him. What she had taken for humor looked, in part, to simply be what death had frozen on his countenance. Tryst would likely be smiling even when he ripped out the heart of his treacherous comrade, Norrec.

"And as we must… have your cooperation… my good friend's suggested a way… to make you even more… amenable… to the situation."

Both he and the Vizjerei approached her.

Kara leapt from the bed. "You have the dagger. You need no other hold over me."

"Fauztin believes… we do. I am so… sorry."

Despite the unlikely chance of anyone hearing her, she opened her mouth to shout.

The mage blinked for a fourth time-and no sound escaped the necromancer's lips. Her seeming helplessness both horrified and infuriated the pale woman. Kara knew that there were far more experienced practitioners of her arts that could have turned both undead into silent, obedient servants. A few more years and perhaps even she would have been able to do so. Instead, the ghouls had turned her into the puppet-and now they sought to further add to her invisible chains.