Beside him, Eriale turned an anguished gaze up to Aeron. "Please, Aeron. Help us!"

Crow laughed out loud as he scorched Phoros with his sorcerous powers. "Considering my offer, Aeron? I'd hoped you would come around, sooner or later. Let's put an end to this, shall we?" His hands flashed and sparked as he tortured the nobleman with snapping arcs of black fire.

It doesn't matter what it costs me, Aeron realized. That's not Sarim anymore, and I can't let him win. He shouted out the words for the storm's stroke, pushing to the back of his mind the black tide from which he drew his power. A great bolt of lightning leaped forward from his fingertips, blasting Crow off his feet and smashing the door behind him into flying flinders. Aeron narrowed his eyes, surprised that Crow had not countered the spell.

In the scorched wreckage of the entrance to the room, Crow suddenly sat up. His robe was burned and shredded, but he seemed otherwise unhurt. "You'll have to do better than that, Aeron," he called.

Crow snapped out a word that sent Aeron and Phoros hurling toward the ceiling. Aeron flailed in the air for a moment before crashing into the hard stone with bone-jarring force. Bright light spun over his eyes, and suddenly he fell to the floor again, landing heavily on his left arm and side. Something crunched in Aeron's forearm and an electric jolt of pain raced up his arm. Raedel grunted as he landed flat on his back.

"What? No counterspell to that one?" Crow gloated. He gestured and sent both men slamming into the ceiling and then dropped them to the ground again.

Aeron's vision reeled, and he could hardly tell which way was up, but Baillegh bounded into his field of vision, worrying at Crow's arm. The sorcerer managed to gasp out a quick spell that repelled the silver hound, sending her skittering into a corner. In the momentary respite that Baillegh's attack earned him, Aeron raised himself to his knees and unleashed a spell of transformation, striking Crow full in the chest with a flickering green ray. "Let's see how you look as a mouse," Aeron muttered, concentrating on the transformation from human to rodent. Crow seemed startled for a moment as the shimmering emerald aura washed over his body, but again the spell did not affect him, vanishing like water draining into a sinkhole.

"A noble effort, Aeron," the sorcerer smirked. "But your spells are useless against me. Any enchantment you work, I will absorb and add to my own strength."

"Absorb this," said Eriale from somewhere behind Aeron. Her bow thrummed, and a white-feathered arrow suddenly appeared low in Master Crow's throat, just above the notch where his collarbones met. The sorcerer's eyes bulged in astonishment and he flailed his arms, trying to keep his balance. Crow opened his mouth as if to say something, but a dark rush of blood streamed over his chin. His eyes rolled up and he collapsed in a heap.

The chamber fell eerily silent. Aeron could hear the blood pounding in his ears, and he slowly pushed himself to his feet, watching Crow for some sign of movement. The sorcerer's body lay still. He turned slowly, and saw Eriale kneeling by Kestrel, her bow in her hands. "Thanks," he said. He moved over and dropped down beside her, hoping to help Kestrel.

The woodsman lay on his back, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. The rough homespun shirt was soaked with blood where the skeletal warrior's axe had split Kestrel's breastbone. "Kestrel," Aeron whispered, bowing his head.

Eriale's voice trembled. "Aeron, can your magic-"

"No," he answered. "He's far beyond my skill." He reached down and closed Kestrel's eyes, a hot ache growing in his chest. "Eriale, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"Why didn't you act, Aeron? What hold did he have on you?" Tears streamed down Eriale's face. "What were you waiting for?"

Aeron sagged back, unable to answer her. "I didn't want to face him," he said quietly. "I should have known that it would come to this."

"My father's dead, Aeron. Raedel and I would have been next. Wasn't that reason enough for you?" She looked over at the doorway to the chamber, where Crow lay with the white-feathered arrow protruding from his throat. Close by the sorcerer's body, Phoros Raedel wheezed heavily, one arm clamped over his wounds. "You'd better check on Raedel. We'll need him to explain why we're here."

Aeron reached out and caught Eriale's arm, turning her to face him. "You're right, Eriale. I wasn't ready for this. I didn't want to confront Crow, and my hesitation might have cost Kestrel his life. But I won't make that mistake again-I swear it."

He held her eyes for a tense moment, until she relented and looked away. Then he stood, picked up his staff, and faced the door. "Look after the count. I have work to do if we're going to put this castle back in his hands."

Sixteen

Aeron and Eriale spent several days in Maerchlin, helping to set things right as Raedel reclaimed his castle. Crow had left a tangled web of dangerous enchantments, wardings, curses, and magical coercions over the places and people of Maerchlin. Aeron worked for days expunging every rune and warding, dispelling charms and curses, and undoing as much of Crow's influence as he could. Kestrel's death demanded no less of him.

Phoros Raedel made no objection when Aeron and Eriale reopened Kestrel's old house at the edge of Maerchlin. The count had been badly wounded and burned during the fight against Crow and his undead minions, but through raw force of will he was on his feet again within a day, making certain that no one in Maerchlin had any doubt as to who was the lord of the county. He relayed no words of thanks to Aeron or Eriale for their service, instead ignoring their presence in his lands. If it had been anyone else, Aeron might have felt slighted by the lack of gratitude, but he knew that it must have angered Phoros beyond reason to be indebted to him. He intended to remove himself from the count's domain as soon as he was satisfied that Crow's magic would work no more mischief.

Three days after their confrontation with Master Crow, Aeron and Eriale burned Kestrel. Aeron used his sorcery to create a clean, pure pyre; he could not stand the idea of burning Kestrel with the sodden, sickly firewood at hand. A somber handful of their old friends and neighbors turned out for the ceremony.

Eriale and Aeron lingered for a long time by the pyre, watching the funereal flames dance and crackle. Eriale was silent and worn, with dark circles under her eyes, and Aeron was exhausted as well.

He was shaken out of his reflection by Eriale's voice. "Aeron? Why did this happen?"

"What?" He turned toward her with a startled look.

"What did we do to earn Master Crow's hate? Why did he come to Maerchlin, and why did he do what he did?"

Aeron tried to think of an answer and failed. Eriale looked up at him, the cold damp air plastering her hair to her cheeks like a dark hood. "He said that he came here because of me," he said at length. "I don't know whether I believe him, though."

"I remember what he said, but what I want to know is why. What did you ever do to him?"

"I knew him back at the college, Eriale. His name then was Sarim, and he was one of my mentors. A terrible wrong was done to him by Lord Oriseus after I left." He repressed a shudder as a cold tendril of water pierced his hood and ran down his back. "I'd thought that I was no longer of interest to Oriseus and his followers. Out of sight, out of mind. After all, they never tried to contact me or hunt me down after I left. I guess I was wrong."

"So you think that Oriseus made Sarim into Crow and sent him after you?"

Aeron thought it over. "Yes. I think he did."

"Do you think that Oriseus told Crow to use his magic to enslave the people of Maerchlin? Or do you think that was Crow's idea?"