Seren opened her eyes just enough to study the captain. Was he half kuo-toa? She'd never heard of such a thing.

Not that that didn't make it possible. The eidolon to some hoary old kuo-toa exarch made the captain sentimental for his dear old missing mother, who he couldn't consciously remember. Which could mean he was either of kuo-toa lineage, or the exarch really was his—

She shook her head at such a foolish idea.

"What?" said Thoster.

"Oh, just considering some outlandish possibilities."

The captain snorted. "I don't think anything's too outlandish at this point!"

"Mmm, that's relative. Anyhow, Captain, I might be able to help you."

"You know what's afflicting me?"

She shrugged. "Close enough. You know it yourself. I don't even want to think about how it happened, but looks like your auntie had it right. You've got something of the kuo-toa in you."

"Why's it coming out now?"

"Something's triggered it. But like I said, I might be able to slow it down some or, if we're lucky, halt the change altogether."

"I'm listening."

Seren smiled. "Good. Now, before we get down to specifics, I'd like to discuss my fee."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Year of the Secret (1396 DR), Xxiphu

A lane of shadow stretched into existence between the world and its echoes. The massive hound named Tamur hurtled down the shadow road, hot on the trail of succulent quarry. That which fled before it was not flesh, though, and the hound was hard pressed to maintain the scent and the lane of shadow simultaneously.

Tamur's eladrin mistress strode behind it. Her mere presence froze water out of the air, the hound felt her like a chill wind behind it. Though her steps were measured and graceful, she easily kept pace.

The hound snuffled, momentarily, confused. The scent wavered. Ahead of them, the walls of gloom making up the corridor decayed and threatened to collapse.

"Do not lose it, Tamur," said the woman.

The ebony creature was far more intelligent than a normal animal, and more vicious too. Yet its loyalty to its mistress echoed that of a dog's to its owner. It wanted to please Malyanna.

Tamur redoubled its effort. It put its muzzle down, snuffling and snorting. The hound tracked an intangible mote embodying a splintered oath. The mote winged across the dimensions, pointing the way to an archfey its mispress wished to meet.

If it was possible to track such a thing, Tamur would do it.

The essence it tracked ceased moving. It was close! Unconsciously, Tamur allowed the shadow lane to begin to collapse.

Ahead, the corridor widened. Shafts of fiery light broke through the leading discontinuity. The orange gleams dissolved the shadow walls. The hound leaped from the shadow, which immediately tattered and faded. Its mistress was only a step behind Tamur.

They stood at the curbed edge of a stone balcony.

Tamur glanced over the edge, sniffing. It saw a fierywinged creature being pulled below the surface of a murky subterranean sea. A dozen thick, boneless arms wrapped the angel in an unbreakable grip. The red light quickly faded.

That was not the source of the scent. But it was close.

The hound turned to its mistress. Her pupil-less eyes glimmered with the phosphorescent glow of the wide cavern the balcony overlooked.

When she smiled, Tamur was glad. That meant it had done well. It watched her as she in turn took in her surroundings.

Malyanna murmured, "How convenient that of all places, I find myself here."

The hound could make out her basic words but couldn't put meaning to them. That wasn't unusual. That she was content was all that was really important. When Malyanna was happy, she indulged Tamur with treats that usually involved live prey.

A new smell sparked across the hound's awareness. It barked as it turned to the balcony's interior. They weren't alone.

A figure stood amid smoking metallic shards. It was a man, bald and pale, with narrow squinting eyes and pointed ears. He wore elaborately cut black clothing, as elegant as if he were dressed for a prominent theater production. An aura of needle-toothed bats swirled around him, He stood nearly seven feet tall, and the muscles of his lean form bunched beneath his clothing.

Tamur took an instant dislike to the man, despite that he reeked of the scent the hound had chased through shadow. Tamur loosed a low growl.

*****

The Lord of Bats preened. He couldn't recall how long it had been since he'd felt so fine. He smiled when the great black dog growled. It amused him to consider all the ways he could bring the hound's life to a swift and painful end.

And there was the eladrin noble.

"Malyanna," he said, his voice rich with barely contained triumph, "strange you arrive on the heels of my release. Stranger still you were able to find me at all, here in this place history never knew. I can only presume it was you who broke my pact stone? Do I have you to thank for my liberation?"

The woman bowed. "As you say, Neifion. I can see just by looking at you that you're nearly back to your old self. You're in my debt."

He laughed. As he did, the haze of bats surrounding him screeched in accompaniment. The hound's ears lay down at the volume. When his mirth subsided, Neifion said, "Yes. I have nearly regained my full vigor. I am the Lord of Bats once more, in more than just name. All that once was mine is mine again, save for my lesser skin. Which is not far from here—I'll have that back soon too."

"Have it back from the warlock Japheth? Is he nearby?"

"Yes... but where is your ally Behroun Marhana? I have a score to settle with him too. He should have been the one to sunder the pact stone the moment he stole it from the warlock, as he swore!"

"Forget about that scrap of mortal flesh. I left him bleeding on your castle floor. When you return home, he'll be waiting. Rather, let's speak of Japheth. Where is he?"

The lord of shadow-mantled Darroch Castle smiled. He fastened the full intensity of his gaze upon the eladrin.

An envelope of shrieking bats flowed from him to her, instantly surrounding the woman. She was buffeted by dozens of leathery wings.

He said, "If you've broken your alliance with Behroun, why do you still care about the warlock's whereabouts?

Why so interested, Malyanna?"

The woman raised a hand. The flapping creatures surrounding her frosted over and scattered away on their last trajectories, clearing the air around her. "Don't do that again, or you may anger me."

The Lord of Bats snorted. "Perhaps I'd like to see you angry. It would bring color to your ice white cheeks."

The shadow hound growled, baring teeth the size of Neifion's fingers.

He glanced at the canine. His eyes became pools of night.

The mastiffs growl choked off, becoming a whimper. Like a beaten cur, the dark beast sank to its belly and crawled toward the man. Its demeanor was that of a dog hoping for forgiveness but fearing a cuff.

"Do not," thundered Malyanna, "play with the loyalties of my servitors."

She snapped her fingers. An unseen force struck Neifion. He spun under the blow, but he did not lose his feet.

Instead, his cape flared outward, transforming into great wings. His limbs lengthened, and his pale skin sprouted ratty fur. The Lord of Bats called back to himself his greater shape of old. Energy raced through his expanded stature. He was a hybrid creature whose leathery wings stretched from one end of the balcony to the other. He shrieked, baring teeth far larger than the hound's.

He swept one enormous wing down. Its leading edge struck Malyanna's midsection, and she spun off the balcony, windmilling into the open space beyond the curb. She fell out of sight a moment later without making a single sound of pain or protest.