The wave of relief and pure, incongruous joy that flooded Naoni left her weak-kneed. "Korvaun!" she cried.

He raced up to her, eyes blazing, and thrust his blade right past her as an angry shout rose right behind her-a hout that twisted into a startled shriek of pain, dying swiftly into a gurgling howl… and trailing away.

Korvaun turned from the leatherworker's body, blue eyes still afire. "Are you hurt, Mistress Naoni?"

Naoni shook her head, gasping, and managed to say, "N-no. Thanks to you, my lord."

Korvaun winced as if the word 'Lord' had been a blow across his face. "You'll not mind if I accompany you until we can get out through the gates?"

Naoni managed a tremulous smile. The ghostly clawings seemed to be gone, but the doorless arch of the tomb yawned like a dark and hungry mouth just a few paces away.

"No, I'd not mind that at all," she said gratefully.

Korvaun cast a swift, searching glance all around to ensure no one was approaching with drawn steel, then gave Naoni a smile. His long hair was tousled and spattered with someone else's blood, and there was a lot more of it all over his splendid clothes. His cloak Naoni put a hand to her mouth. "Where's your cloak?"

Strangely, its absence troubled as much as all the bloodshed. There'd been something reassuring about seeing her handiwork swirling grandly about his shoulders.

"I left it with a servant before I came in here; I didn't want to be so brightly marked as a noble in this crowd."

Naoni stared at him. "Is it your custom to come strolling through the Deadrest before dusk? When it's full of an angry mob killing each other?"

"'Tis my custom to go seeking friends who may need aid and stand with them," Korvaun replied quietly. "Born with coins enough to do as I please, in a city that has more well-to-do wastrels than any great kingdom might need, 'tis almost the only deed of worth I can do."

Naoni swallowed. There'd been clear bitterness in his voice, but… "Friend? You came seeking me?"

"Yes," Korvaun said simply.

Then his gaze went past her, and his face changed.

"Into the tomb," he snapped, reaching out a long arm to gather her in. "I can defend-"

"No!" Naoni almost shouted. "There's a ghost-"

"Well of course there is," Korvaun replied, plucking her up like a bundle of cloth. "Every tomb in the City's crawling with them."

"No, no, no!" Naoni cried, struggling to get free. "It was clawing at me!"

Korvaun swung around to look behind him, whirling her like a rag doll to do so. "Inside," he said urgently. "There're six-no, seven-men running right at us, with swords out! I wear a talisman that can ward spirits away!"

"Well, give it to me!" Naoni said, finding her feet at last. "I'm not going in there withou-"

"Naoni, I've no time to-'tis my belt buckle! I can't fight with my breeches half down-get in, woman!"

With a roar the foremost man arrived, a giant of a dockworker in a tattered black-buckle jerkin swinging a wicked, blood-smeared scythe.

Korvaun shoved Naoni back at the darkness-where three pale, watching faces now floated, with no bodies beneath them at all-and raised his slender sword in a desperate, ducking parry. He dare not let steel meet steel squarely, or his blade might snap off like There was a ringing clang, sparks danced, and the docker was snarling into Korvaun's face as his scythe rebounded. Two more dockers were coming up fast; Korvaun knew he had to down the man quickly. He spun up out of his crouch dagger-first, driving it in under the man's ribs and ripping up and out.

Blood spouted, and the wounded man wailed. Letting go scythe and his last meal in untidy unison, he staggered away, clutching his gut. His stagger took him right in front of one of his fellows, giving Korvaun time to slash at the face of the other man. When that docker threw up his knife to parry, Korvaun hooked the man's feet out from under him and landed on him, knees first, to stab once and spring back up.

Then the rest were arriving in an untidy, shouting knot, and Korvaun was sprinting back to the tomb, where a white-faced Naoni stood trembling, tiny shears held up before her like a dagger. Korvaun scooped her up like a babe, despite her wail of fear, and plunged right at the three-no, four, now-glowing ghostly faces.

The ghostlight promptly winked out. Korvaun lost his footing in the sudden darkness, and they landed hard on the cold stone floor. Naoni rolled away and promptly screamed. Korvaun cursed his way up to his feet and whirled to face the first charge.

Two of the men who'd come to slay him skidded to frantic halts, wide-eyed, and started to shout in fear.

Ghosts were all around them, half-seen and chilling, all skull-faces and wasted limbs and horrible battle-wounds gaping. Naoni was sobbing on her knees with long-fingered phantoms clawing at her. Korvaun ran to her, waving his sword.

A horrible boneless thing-the phantom of someone who'd been crushed by something heavy-reared up before him, mouth working horribly. It melted away into tatters as Korvaun and his talisman rushed right through it.

He fell again and skidded to a halt on his knees, his arms around a weeping, quivering Naoni Dyre. The ghosts melted away from them.

"Easy, love," he murmured awkwardly. "All will be well, I swear!"

She turned and sobbed into his chest but then went stiff and silent, pulled herself away, and looked toward the tomb-mouth, eyes wide and wild.

Korvaun followed her gaze. It was almost night outside the tomb now, and he could see distant figures running frantically and hear a great chorus of iron clangings, followed by terrified howls of "The gates! They've closed the gates on us!"

In the deeper, closer darkness of the tomb, a silent host was gathering in a pale ring close around Korvaun and Naoni. Not all the ghosts tarried: phantom after phantom slid out through the arch into the falling night, but ever more were seeping out of burial runes and rising up from the flagstones to join the silently staring throng.

Korvaun stared at them, and they stared back, their eyes so many cruel, patient points of light. Coldly menacing. Waiting.

He shivered despite himself, as Naoni whispered, "They've closed the gates. We're shut in here until morning, aren't we?"

"It seems so."

The lass in his arms hadn't yet seen the ghosts gathered all around them, but she was trying to turn around now, pushing firmly against him. "Are those men gone?"

"They are," Korvaun replied nervously, watching the ghosts drift a little closer. One got too close and melted into tatters, its darkly furious eyes vanishing last of all. They were testing the strength of his talisman, seeking to wear it down or find some weakness…

"Lord Helmfast," Naoni said more calmly, "I thank you for your timely aid, but if you don't mind, I'd like to get up now, and-"

"Keep still," Korvaun hissed. "Please."

She froze, and peered up sharply. "Why?"

Korvaun drew a deep breath. "The ghosts are all around us, lass. My-all my talisman does is keep them a little at bay. If you stand away from me, I can't stop them from… from…"

Naoni shuddered. "So cold," she whispered, remembering. "Like searing frost."

There was a sudden commotion outside, the thudding footfalls of a large, booted man running as fast as he could. He panted past, then someone else screamed suddenly, "No! Noooo! Take them away!"

"Are-" Naoni started to ask, voice rising in fear, and Korvaun held her tightly, wincing. Outside, something pale glowed and flashed-and the screaming man fell silent and toppled, staring forever at nothing.

The ghost whirled away from its victim, giving Lord Helmfast a grin of coldly savage glee. Lifting skeletal hands, it moved bony digits in a brief, complicated dance.

Korvaun was no wizard, but he knew a spell when he saw one. So, apparently, did the watchful ghosts. They drifted closer, well within the range of the talisman's power.