"The Cobbler," Ganelon hissed.

The answer shocked Inza into silence, but only for a moment. "You're lying" she snapped. The dagger's point pierced the lobe and continued into the corner of his jaw.

"A few nights ago," Ganelon said through gritted teeth. "He gave me the brace then, too."

The girl paused again and regarded the brace more closely. After a moment, a look of recognition crossed her face. "Well, well," she said finally. "You have some important friends, giorgio. Tell me what I want to know, and you can count me one of them."

"I can't tell you what the Cobbler said."

"Won't tell me," Inza corrected. "You're capable of doing so, at least right now."

"I swore an oath. I can't break it."

Inza raised the blade again. "You'd be surprised at what you can do, given the proper motivation."

As she brought the knife down, Ganelon didn't struggle. He went slack. To compensate for the sudden weight in his arms, the Vistana holding him jerked backward. The moment he did, Ganelon pushed up with his legs.

Instead of slashing Ganelon's face, the blade struck the Vistana's arm. It was a glancing blow that should have left nothing more than a scratch. But the dagger Inza carried was enchanted by magics older than the Vistani themselves. Its steel bit down to the bone.

Ganelon crashed to the ground and was immediately set upon by the other Vistani. They kicked him and pummeled him, blackening his eyes and loosening more than a few teeth. The man who had been holding him tried desperately to stop the bleeding from his slashed arm. His attempts proved as futile as Ganelon's hopes of escape. Before long he had slumped against the log, his lifeblood flowing into the dirt.

Only Inza remained calm. Once Ganelon had been subdued again, she cleaned her dagger's blade and walked slowly to where he lay pinned to the ground.

"I swore on my love for Helain," he cried. "I will not betray that."

"Of course not," Inza said. She lifted the dagger, positioning the blade so that it would catch the sun. The flare of light struck Ganelon full in the face. At the same time, she focused her eyes on his.

When his eyes cleared, Ganelon found himself stretched out within a beautiful bower. Vines curled around him, caressing him and shading him from the sun. The leg brace was gone, as were his wounds and the terrible chill that had clung to him since the meeting with the Cobbler. He was safe here. Nothing could harm him, not the Vistani, not the beasts of the Fumewood, not even Lord Soth.

He marveled at that sensation of utter security. It was one he had experienced before only rarely and only in Helain's arms.

"As it should be," a cool voice said. "You are only truly safe with someone who loves you absolutely."

Ganelon shifted, looked up, and was startled to find Helain cradling his head in her lap. The taint of madness was gone from her face. She smiled down on him in perfect contentment. One hand rested upon his cheek. The other was entwined in her red hair. How vibrant that hair was, a bright flame against the forest's deep green. Her eyes sparkled like two still pools reflecting the first morning sunlight as she said, "You freed me."

She bent to kiss him. As she did, her tresses flowed around his face. Ganelon's senses reeled. He breathed in her perfume and hugged her fiercely. They lingered there as the morning became afternoon and the afternoon dwindled to twilight.

Finally, Ganelon broke the embrace.

"I can't believe you're here," he sighed as he pulled back a little to study her face.

Hugging him again, this time more playfully, she replied, "Believe it. You have yourself to thank. Only you could have saved me."

"You're really here."

Helain mocked annoyance and pushed him away. "If my method of proving that isn't sufficient for you, sir, I suggest you find another lap to rest your head upon."

"It is far beyond sufficient," he said, laughing. "It's just… I think I must have lain here too long. I'm having a hard time recalling exactly what happened."

"Oh, come now," Helain scoffed. "Surely you remember finding me in the lair of the Whispering Beast." At his blank look, she said, "You're starting to worry me, love."

A wave of dizziness washed over Ganelon. Disoriented, he put his hand to his eyes. "I remember the Cobbler helping me. You're right-"

Helain took his hand from his eyes and pressed it between her palms. Her brow furrowed with concern. "Why don't we start at the beginning, from when the Cobbler told you how to find me. That will help you put things back together."

Ganelon tried to sit up, but Helain held him fast. "Rest," she said. "Please, love." A shadow of worry stretched across her face, making her blue eyes appear green.

As green as the bower.

As green as the creeping vines that were even now encircling his legs.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ganelon felt panic rise. "No!" he shouted

With trembling hands he grabbed Helain by the shoulders and began to shake her. She shouted for him to stop, but it was too late. Streaks had begun to appear in her hair, the crimson tresses quickly darkening to the black of ravens' wings. Her eyes gave up their facade of blue. They were the green of serpent's scales and just as emotionless.

"Enough," Inza said. She slumped forward, exhaustion withering her young face. As in the dream, the day had run its course and night once more perched upon the Fumewood. "Your heart may resist me," she said wearily, "but there are other ways to break you, other agents to impose my will upon you."

Inza nodded to one of her tribesmen, a grim-faced man of middle years named Alexi. Like most of the Wanderers, he'd been left without a family by the butchery Duke Gundar inflicted upon the Vistani in his domain. After joining with Magda, there were few creatures of the night he had not faced. In all the world, the only thing that truly frightened him was the girl who now led their caravan.

At Inza's signal, Alexi pulled Ganelon up from the ground and brought him to the small cook fire the gypsies had started. There was no smoke, and the logs seemed to burn readily enough. Ganelon wondered numbly if the Vistani had some sort of magic that made the wood more compliant. Perhaps they'd hauled wood with them somehow.

"You don't have to hang on to him," Inza said. "Find a decent tree and pin him to it."

"As you wish, raunie? Alexi said.

It took only a short time for the Vistana to bind Ganelon to the trunk of a large, moss-covered tree. As he did, another of the Vistani made a show of setting a trio of large metal pokers in the cookfire's coals. Inza supervised silently, her form bathed in the fire's glow. "I will have what I want from you," she said to Ganelon. "Make no mistake. I always win."

The young man snorted, displaying a bravado he most certainly did not feel. "Hot pokers? Isn't that a bit primitive for the Vistani?"

"Oh, those are only my reserve tools," Inza said cheerfully.

The raunie reached into a hidden pocket in her cloak. With a smile of satisfaction, she withdrew a small, ornate box, and presented it in her palm. "One last chance, Ganelon, before I loose this on you."

"I will not dishonor myself or my love for Helain," he answered simply.

Inza gave the young man a last thoughtful look before she placed the tiny box on the ground and opened it.

A soft black shape slid out of the box. It expanded as it slithered forward, its saline stench overpowering every other odor in the camp. Ganelon gaped at it for a moment before the shock wore off and the horror set in.

He closed his eyes and conjured an image of Helain. It would be the last time he could envision her with the same passion in his heart. The shadows knew nothing of love and did not tolerate such emotions in their slaves.