Tila shifted in her seat, tucking her legs underneath her and tugging her cloak over them like a blanket. Then a thought struck her and she twisted herself around to look at the books lining the walls. 'Isak knows so little of our myths and ancient history. Perhaps I could be of some use to him while he is away. If he has prophecies to contend with, the knowledge in this room could prove vital.' She looked up at Lord Bahl, a note of pleading in her voice.

Bahl gave a curt nod. 'I think you are a very sensible young woman; one he will benefit from listening to.' He had said enough; now he left the room without another word.

Two weeks later, Bahl was preparing to start his journey east. News from Lomin was confusing, but better than he had expected. The linked mages had again allowed Bahl to speak to the scion, this time to follow the enemy's movements. Vitil had fallen and had been razed to the ground, with the loss of more than three hundred men, but more than half of the population had been saved by a heroic effort on the part of the garrison. Their sacrifice had drawn in the enemy attack and allowed nearby Kohm to safely evacuate along with Vitil's civilians. Kohm's garrison saw all the refugees to the greater safety of Peak's Gate.

With two full legions of troops there, and the townsfolk bolstering their number, the elves would not attempt to take the fortress-town of Peak's Gate. It would take months of siege to break that ancient stronghold, so the elves would be content to maintain a stand-off at

the gates.

When the effort had again become too much for the twinned mage, Bahl had sat in silence until everyone else had shuffled from the room-He felt a nagging guilt about sending the army off under Isak's command. General Lahk was more than competent; he would not allow the Krann to make any fatal mistake, and yet…

And yet Bahl knew he should be out there, leading his army himself, not walking down to the Great Hall to grab a last meal before he left Tirah. If he took the high mountain paths shunned by most Farlan, he would be able to travel undisturbed to his friend's deathbed. He had failed to find any trace of the vampire they suspected was in the city; this distraction at least he would see through.

It was evening, and muffled sounds of revelry came from behind the aged oak doors, garbled and distant, but nonetheless welcome after the empty apartments and corridors of the upper levels. He looked at the flags adorning the Great Hall: they were of similar age to his dying friend in the forest, and they looked as worn as the Abbot had been when Bahl had last seen him. Soon Bahl would have to choose replacements for both as he endured yet another lifetime.

On a rare impulse he sat at the foot of the great stairway and pressed his temple against the cold stone of the wall. As he did so, he imagined a tremble of age pass to him from the stone, but he knew it was nothing. He ran a hand over the worn steps and looked up at the flags, wondering when his own time would come. White-eyes could live past five hundred summers; however much Bahl felt like an old man, he had several lifetimes ahead of him. It was hard to welcome them.

In the Great Hall, the cooking fire spat and roared as a deer roasted slowly above its flames, the scent of it thick in the air. As Bahl entered, the noise waned briefly, but he ignored the faces turned in his direction and made for the fire. A maid pulled a bowl-shaped flatbread from the cauldron behind her and heaped dripping hunks of venison and vegetables into it for him.

'You're leaving now.7' Bahl turned to see Lesarl behind him and nodded as he slipped a chunk of meat into his mouth. 'So is Tiniq,' Lesarl continued. 'He's just had a message from the Chief of Rangers; he's setting out immediately, on foot again, as always. He claims he doesn't like riding.'

'At this hour? I take it the message was delayed in getting to him.' 'I might have kept the ranger waiting in my office a little longer

than necessary.' Lesarl smiled. He knew Tiniq had piqued his Lord's

interest.

Thank you. Where is he?'

'Pack hidden under the table, trying to be unobtrusive, behind you, door-side.'

Bahl nodded his thanks and gestured for Lesarl to return to his own meal, then turned to spot Tiniq, who was sitting with shoulders hunched, staring down at an empty cup. The ranger rarely came to the palace; he was here even less these days as the advancing years failed to mark his face. Tiniq Lahk defied all conventions: he was General Lahk's younger twin, a normal man, not a white-eye, and one

who should have died in the womb as twins of white-eyes always did.

Just as a white-eye's size would kill the mother in childbirth, so the

life of any twin would be squeezed out in the weeks beforehand. But

somehow Tiniq had clung grimly to life, and though a sickly child,

he had grown into a strong youth. He had had a lonely childhood,

fostered to a forester, and grew up suspicious of strangers. He appeared

to have taken on many white-eye attributes, and no doubt he was

touched by magic, a little, but just how much, he kept to himself. This

was a mystery Bahl was still waiting to resolve.

Bahl's cogitation was interrupted as Tiniq noticed him. 'My Lord?' he said as he rose from his seat and gave Bahl a short bow.

'I'm leaving for the Ked road now. I take it you won't be going too far off track if you accompany me part of the way.'

The tone of Bahl's voice left no room for argument, but still Tiniq tried. 'Actually, my Lord, I am bound for Siul.'

'A few hours will not make much difference, I think. Fetch your

pack.'

Tiniq suppressed a sigh and reached under the bench to pull out a shapeless canvas pack and an oilskin weapons-pouch, then followed

Bahl outside.

He kept his eyes low until Bahl stopped unexpectedly and spoke again. 'There are tales of the Saljin Man in the deep forest. Have you

seen it?'

The ranger frowned. 'Just peasants being foolish. We've got enough in our forests without borrowing the curses of other tribes.'

'I wonder. It's a strange thing to invent when we all know the Vukotic are as rooted to their lands as to their curses. I've heard this before, when a vampire was in the city almost a century back. Now we suspect another is here, do we call that coincidence?'

The ranger looked startled at the prospect, attempting to cover his discomfort by adjusting the baldric on his shoulder. 'I understand. I'll

pay attention.'

'Good. Now we should leave. You must have run with your brother, I expect you to keep up.' Without waiting for a reply, Bahl strode off through the moonlight to the stone fist of the barbican. The bridge was usually kept raised in times of war, but the guards had seen him standing outside the Great Hall and it was down by the time Bahl passed through the tunnel.

The wide main streets and narrow alleys of the city were almost

empty. Away to the left, Bahl could hear the stamp of hobnailed boots – Ghosts on patrol. Even the gutter runners would be holed up somewhere warm; the sparkle of frost on the gargoyles and overhangs showed how dangerous the roofs were this time of year. Despite that, the ancient city of covered streets, archways and statues was at its most entrancing when glittering in the moonlight.

Bahl walked easily down these cobbled roads. The many towers and complex architecture made Tirah a remarkable city to behold. In the moonlight, even the most fanciful stories set here became believable. Black shadows lurked in the covered streets, under arches and around the lights of taverns. Bahl knew that not all of the eyes above were empty stone, but there was a natural order and the predators that hunted the streets at night were wary of him. They would watch him for as long as they could, like deer following a wolf pack to avoid the chance of ambush.