"Here's your temple," Seregil announced.

"I think you may be correct," Nysander said, looking around in amazement.

"It's above the normal tide line now, but from the looks of the debris, the highest tides reach it. It's a sort of natural basin."

"It must have been used by the people who left the writing we found carved there," Nysander speculated. "I wonder what the holes represent?"

"So the eclipse and the high tide that fills this thing will happen at the same time," observed Micum, helping Seregil cover the holes as they had found them.

"The highest point of the tide will lag some minutes behind the completion of the eclipse," the wizard replied.

"Which means Mardus will have only a few moments in which to complete whatever ritual he plans before the sun returns. It is generally believed that the more rare the conjunction, the more powerful its effect. With the added factor of the comet, I should say this conjunction will be an extraordinarily potent and dangerous one. That it is so focused on a specific locale makes it all the more so."

"By the Flame!" Micum muttered. "And the three of us are supposed to take on that, with however many Plenimarans thrown in?"

"Four," Seregil amended darkly, shooting Nysander a pointed look. "When the time comes, there are supposed to be four of us."

45

Time passed like a slow nightmare for Alec.

By day the cart bumped and jolted over the rough coastal track the column followed. His mounted escort ignored him for the most part, talking among themselves in their own language. With only Thero for company, Alec spent the daylight hours dozing and watching the mountainous countryside go by.

And dreading nightfall. At night the bear cart was stationed somewhat apart from the camp. Alec quickly learned to fear the moment when his guards faded away into the shadows; this was the signal for Vargul

Ashnazai's festival of nightmares to begin.

Later, when the final horror was over and Alec had been reduced to terrified fury, the guards would reappear and whatever was left of the night would pass in relative peace.

The second night Diomis and his mother materialized in the cage, heads clutched beneath their arms as they cursed and accused him. Alec knew they were only illusions, but their accusations stabbed at enough of his own doubts to bring real pain. Turning his back on them, he stuffed his fingers in his ears and tried to ignore the prodding and buffeting of their cold, ghostly hands. It was pointless to fight back—they had no more substance than air.

Curling tighter in his misery, he waited for Ashnazai to tire of the game.

When it was over, Alec lay listening to the small sounds of the night-an owl's hunting call, the distant nickering of horses, the low murmur of the guards, who'd come back as soon as Ashnazai had gone.

Where did they go? he wondered, letting his mind wander where it would.

A better question: why do they go?

His eyes widened as he stared up into the night sky.

Every time Ashnazai had tormented him, on the ship and now, he did it without witnesses. This seemed to verify something Alec already suspected. Vargul Ashnazai did not want anyone, especially Mardus, to know what he was up to.

The following night there was no sign of Ashnazai.

Huddled close to Thero's sleeping form, Alec stared out into the shadows, bracing for whatever new horror was to come.

The moon rose. The stars wheeled slowly past the branches, but nothing disturbed the surrounding stillness.

A sweet spring breeze swept through the boughs, carrying to him the scents of resin, damp mosses, and tender green herbs sprouting from the forest loam.

Closing his eyes, he imagined himself walking through those wooded hills with his bow as he had with his father. In spite of his fear, he drifted off and dreamed of hunting and forest trails and freedom.

He was awakened by someone whispering his name. A dark figure stood next to the cart, beckoning him to the bars.

Alec crouched warily. "What do you want?"

"Alec, it's me," the man replied softly. He pushed his hood back and the moonlight struck his face.

"Seregil!" Alec managed a choked whisper. Scrambling over, he thrust his hand out to his friend.

Seregil clasped it and pressed it to his lips.

He was real, solid, warm. Alec clung to him, heedless of the tears of relief rolling down his own cheeks. "I never thought—How did you find us?"

Reaching through the bars, Seregil cupped Alec's face in his hands. "No time to explain, tali. I've got to get you out of there." Releasing Alec reluctantly, he went to the back of the cart to examine the lock.

"Be careful. Vargul Ashnazai put some kind of magic on it."

Seregil glanced up. "Who?"

"The necromancer who was with Mardus in Wolde. And he's not the only one around, either. They've got a dyrmagnos with them."

"Bilairy's Balls! But there's got to be some way. I'm not leaving you here!"

Alec's heart hammered in his chest as he watched Seregil inspect the lock. It was torture, being this close but still separated.

"Ah, here's something—" Seregil began, but just then torchlight flared behind him.

"Seregil, look out!"

Turning, they found Vargul Ashnazai leering up at them, flanked by a half-dozen armed soldiers.

"How clever of you to have found us," the necromancer gloated. "I much appreciate your effort. And your boy played his part very convincingly, no?"

Seregil shot Alec a startled look.

It was the cruelest blow yet, that accusing look. It froze Alec's throat, so that he could only shake his head imploringly.

Seregil drew his sword and sprang from the wagon, away from Ashnazai's men. But others were waiting for him in the shadows.

Flinging himself against the bars, Alec watched with horror as Seregil fought for his life. He ran a guard through and slashed another across the neck before the others leapt at him from behind, knocking him to the ground and pinning him.

The necromancer barked an order and they yanked Seregil to his feet. His face was bloody, but he held his head high and spat at the necromancer, eyes blazing with hate.

Ashnazai gave another order. This time Seregil was dragged up into the bear cart and lashed hand and foot to the bars facing Alec.

"I didn't help him, I swear," Alec whispered hoarsely. "Oh, Seregil, I—"

"It doesn't matter much now," Seregil growled, turning his face away.

"Not in the least," Ashnazai agreed, climbing into the cart behind him with Seregil's sword in his hand.

"It's a pity you were cut, but then I'd hardly dare chance putting the two of you together again." He grabbed Seregil by the hair, pulling his head back. "Who knows what mischief you'd make, eh?"

Stepping back, he placed the point of the sword against the small of Seregil's back and pushed slowly, twisting the blade.

Seregil let out a strangled cry and grasped the bars. Alec reached through, grappling for the sword, but one of Ashnazai's men pulled him away, holding him back as the necromancer drove the blade out through Seregil's belly and then yanked it free.

Seregil let out a harsh scream and sank to his knees. Struggling free, Alec caught at him, trying to hold him through the bars. He felt hot blood under his hands. More ran from the corner of Seregil's mouth.

Alec wanted to speak, but no words would come.

Seregil looked at him, his wide grey eyes full of sorrow and recrimination.

Pulling the dying man's head back again, Ashnazai drew the blade across Seregil's throat. More blood pumped from the severed arteries, spattering Alec's face and chest.

Seregil struggled weakly for a moment, his last breath gurgling horribly through the gaping wound. With a final spasm, he went limp, eyes open and vacant.