In fact, hunger may have been the wrong word. Balcombe wondered, as he often did, precisely what use Hiddukel had for the souls he received from his faithful. Did he consume them as food, or was he beyond the need for nourishment of any kind? Perhaps they became slaves in some nightmare realm mortals could never imagine. Or, what Balcombe considered the most interesting possibility, perhaps Hiddukel used them as a form of currency in dealings with beings even more loathsome than himself. Ultimately, Balcombe did not care what became of the souls; his curiosity was completely academic.

Balcombe hesitated, staring at the enormous, nightmare gem for many minutes before reaching into the depths of his black robe. He loathed conversations with Hiddukel. Still, it was the only way to get what he desired.

The mage's fingertips met with the slight, almost un-detectable seam located just above his left breast. He tapped it four times-two quick taps followed by two slow ones. The secret pocket he had magically placed there opened, and he extracted from it a large golden coin, cold to the touch. For a time after he had received the conduit to the evil god Hiddukel from the swirling whirlpool of autumn leaves in Wayreth Forest, he had absently carried it with his other coins. Until the mind-boggling day he nearly-absently-traded it for a chicken at a local market. For the first time he began to think of the potential consequences of such carelessness. That very afternoon he had created a secret pocket in his robes; the coin never left his person again.

Balcombe reached for the lit candle standing nearby on the counter, then hesitated again. He examined the coin in his hand. Each of the two faces had a distinct personality, a fact that he had initially found both intriguing and useful. Often, a deal that could not be struck with one would appeal to the other. He frequently switched from one to the other several times during a single conversation. But more and more he found both aspects of Hiddukel odious and his demands intolerable.

At last, after selecting the more severe face, Balcombe held the coin by the edges between his thumb and forefinger. Slowly he passed it over the candle flame, feeling the metal grow hot in his grasp. As the temperature of the coin rose, Balcombe felt his fingers burn. Just as the heat became deliriously unbearable, the face on the coin suddenly sprang to life. The animated mouth gaped and the candle's flame leaped through it; the eyes popped open and scanned the room, locking onto Balcombe.

"You! I was in the midst of an extraordinary transaction," snarled the stout face. "It is too early in the moon's cycle for your usual delivery. Tell me instantly why you have summoned me, or I will flay the flesh from your frame and let the fiends suck the marrow from your bones!"

"No, you won't," Balcombe said, having learned long ago that Hiddukel valued bravado more highly than true conviction. "You still need me for the souls I provide you."

"I need no mortal!" bellowed the wrathful face.

Balcombe placed his thumbless hand to his chest in mock astonishment. "Has my knowledge been faulty all these years? I thought the true gods could enter Krynn only through avatars, such as this coin, and without their powers. If you can, in fact, enter this World and gather souls for yourself," he said, beginning the bluff, "I will happily declare our deal completed and deliver no more souls."

"Our score will be settled when I deem it so!" Both faces on the coin suddenly gave a hiccoughing laugh that was annoyingly out of synch. "Besides, you dare call souls those wretched things you have sent me of late? Rabid dogs and goblins would better satisfy my needs. You are dangerously close to forfeiture of contract, human."

Balcombe forced his voice to remain even. "Just how many worthwhile bodies and souls do you think can disappear unnoticed in a village the size of Tantallon? I take what I can get away with."

Hiddukel's eyes bulged. "Your petty problems are no concern of mine, mage! I made you what you are, and I expect little enough in return."

"Then you will be extraordinarily pleased to hear what I have for you this time." Crimson shafts flashed from the large ruby as it caught the light of a torch on the wall. Biting his lip in rapturous anticipation, Balcombe caressed the ruby's faceted surface before lifting it up to the level of the coin.

Hiddukel's expression was stormy. "I have seen gems before, mage. Why do you waste my time with games?"

"Look inside, my lord," Balcombe said smoothly. He swung the enchanted prison gem closer to the face on the coin.

The golden trinket flipped itself over in Balcombe's open palm. Hiddukel's wily face squinted into the depths of the gem. "I see the visage of a pretty young man. It is not unlike others you have sent me and tells me nothing of his soul," he said skeptically.

"Ah, but look into his eyes," Balcombe intoned. "His is not the face of an ordinary cobbler or street loiterer. He is Rostrevor, the sole offspring of Lord Curston. Raised by the Code and Measure of the Knights of Solamnia, his soul is as pure and steadfast as a mountain stream. I'll wager there are few less sullied on the whole of Krynn." He paused for effect. "This I give to you-"

Even Hiddukel's crafty side could scarcely disguise his lust at the prospect.

"-in exchange for one last service."

"Remember who is the master here."

"I have never forgotten."

Balcombe's gaze was locked with the image on the coin. Show no weakness, he reminded himself. "For ten years I have served you faithfully, exchanging souls for the life you restored to me. In the shadows of the towers, you vowed to help me exact revenge for my treatment in the Tower of High Sorcery during my test. Now I ask to see that promise fulfilled. Grant me LaDonna's position in the Conclave of Wizards."

Hiddukel was aghast. "That's impossible!"

"Nothing is impossible for a god."

Hiddukel recognized that he stood on the brink of a trap; the animated face on the coin fell still in reflection.

"You are a god of evil. LaDonna is the highest wizard of the black robes. Think of a way." Balcombe held the gem up to Hiddukel's eyes again, scarlet shafts of light dancing crazily on the walls.

"When?"

Balcombe swallowed an ecstatic smile. "I will summon you from the temple, as usual. We will make the exchange then."

The coin flipped back to the defiant side. 'Time is needed to prepare! LaDonna is no fool."

"Surely she is no match for a god." As the words slipped out, Balcombe gasped inwardly at his own effrontery. Had he pushed too hard, overestimated Hiddukel's conceit, when he was so close to getting what he wanted?

"Have a care, mortal," warned the coin in rigid tones. "I am not easily moved to true anger, but you have pushed me long and hard. I am not in your debt. You are in mine. As long as that condition persists, all I have granted to you can be withdrawn, including your life. Consider that well before next you question my power."

Balcombe had never truly tested Hiddukel's power on Krynn, but what he had seen in the past was impressive. It was entirely possible, he knew, that Hiddukel could enforce his threat, if not directly then through other followers. Few people openly worshiped the cunning god of bargaining, but Balcombe had good reason to suspect that many people, like himself, served Hiddukel secretly. More than once in the past, Hiddukel had demanded that Balcombe deliver a specific person's soul. While Hiddukel had never said it directly, Balcombe had no doubt that those victims were also followers of Hiddukel who had either betrayed or displeased the god. The thought that such assassins could be stalking in his own shadow chilled Balcombe, especially as it meant that his soul would be forfeit to Hiddukel's evil pleasures.