"We've been awaiting your return, my liege," Hassad's ghost said, bowing. "Much evil has been done."

"I know."

"Follow me," Hassad said, beckoning them to lead their horses to the back of the ruined inn. There, enough of a stable remained to both hide and shelter the horses. When the horses were tended, Hassad showed them to an opening in the inn's foundation that led down into the cellars. Tris longed in vain for a fire, but they ate a cold supper from the supply of dried meats and fruits, fresh cheese and wine that Lars had provided for their journey. Gabriel took his leave, returning a few can-dlemarks later with a satisfied smile, his pallor lessened.

"The spirits will watch over you," Hassad said. Other ghosts appeared from the mist to join him, standing silent and indistinct in the shadows. "The palace ghosts are still banished from Shekerishet," the slain soldier cautioned. "They've grown angry and impatient for vengeance. I don't know if even so strong a mage as yourself, my liege, can control their fury once Arontala's spell is broken."

Tris could feel the ghosts that swirled unseen around them. They were familiar, ghosts he had known since childhood, the ghosts of Shekerishet. This time the spirits did not come to him seeking intercession. These were the ghosts of his ancestors, of loyal family retainers, and of oath-bound guards who had died long ago in the line of duty. The ghosts came to him offering their support and condolences. If he was able to break the spell that banished the ghosts from the palace, Tris knew they would swarm back on their own accord to seek vengeance against Jared and Arontala. If so, they might help to turn the odds. Just knowing that the spirits supported his quest and pledged their fealty was enough to lift his mood from the fears and nightmares that had troubled his sleep.

"I'll stand guard," Gabriel said.

"I'll leave you now," Hassad said, his form growing less distinct. "The castle ghosts are watching over you. You'll be safe tonight." In the blink of an eye, the spirit was gone.

"Somehow, knowing that many ghosts are hovering over me just doesn't make me feel any better," Vahanian muttered as they picked their way through the littered cellar. Gabriel took up a post near the entrance, just beyond where the moonlight turned to shadow.

"How can it still be this cold in Margolan and it's nearly the Hawthorn Moon?" Carina muttered, wrapping her cloak around her. "I thought only Isencroft was cold this late in the year."

"Let's go over things again," Kiara suggested. "Having a plan makes me feel better." Tris conjured faint hand fire in the windowless basement, enough for them to see each other's faces.

Carroway leaned back against one of the thick foundation timbers and took a bite of his dried meat before he replied. "All right. Once we get some rest, Carina and I leave for the city, using the festival crowd for cover. I don't think we'll have any trouble finding help from the hedge witches. We'll meet up with Helki and the others, and see who they've recruited. That gives us most of the day to look for Alyzza and get the crowd going. We'll be in position before you head for Shekerishet."

"Once we're in the city, we raise as many diversions as we can," Carina chimed in. "If we do our job, the city garrison will be so busy they won't have time to worry about what's going on up at the castle."

"While we drop in on them from above." Tris double-checked the climbing ropes they had brought with them and Vahanian made a final inspection of their cuirasses. Kiara honed their weapons. Vahanian carefully counted the arrows for his crossbow, adjusted the bow's string, and assured himself that each arrow was sharp and straight.

"Let's hope they're not watching the moon when we scale the cliffs," Kiara added edgily.

"Gabriel and Jae can help with a diversion there," Tris replied. "Assuming Arontala doesn't sense me coming before we set foot inside the castle."

Kiara stopped what she was doing to rummage in her pack. She withdrew the spelled cloak and offered it to Tris.

"Take this," she said. "Maybe it will hide your magic just long enough to slip by Arontala."

When they were certain that their preparations were complete, they settled down to rest. Carroway stretched out on a board that gave him some protection from the damp dirt of the cellar floor. Vahanian offered to share a stone slab and his cloak with Carina. Kiara slipped close to Tris on a ruined door that kept them off the hard ground, nestling in his cloak while Jae slept at her feet.

Before long, Tris could hear the measured breathing that told him his companions were soundly asleep.

Gabriel left them at dawn for the deeper reaches of the cellar. When Tris was certain he would not wake Kiara he slipped away, covering her carefully with his cloak. He walked to the wall, where a chink in the foundation permitted the sun to send a weak shaft of light into the basement.

You have done well, Tris, a voice sounded in his mind. Tris recognized his grandmother's voice and wheeled. In the shadows of the cellar he could see the robed woman's outline, one hand upraised in greeting.

Grandmother, he said, falling to one knee. I've missed you.

The sorceress' face softened into a smile. You've learned the lessons required of you.

Will they be enough? Tris asked.

Bava K'aa's spirit gazed at him, her eyes both wise and stern. No one can see that. It's for you to determine. Beware the orb. It is the doorway to the abyss. The spirit of the Obsidian King is strong and terrible. I hope that when the spirits are freed, if they survive, that Lemuel may be among them. Serae and Kait as well.

She paused, her outline growing more and more diffuse as she made a sign of blessing. The Lady keeps Her own. And with that her form disappeared, but her words lingered in Tris's mind.

Still kneeling, Tris looked up at the rotting timbers overhead. "Lady Bright," he murmured, "I've sworn my sword to you to bring Jared and his mage to account. Take my life if you must, but let me free Margolan from this evil."

Nothing stirred, not even the rats that infested the cellar. Tris looked at his sleeping companions and felt his throat tighten. It would be a miracle of the Lady's own working if they all lived through this campaign. He had told no one, but the dreams of the dark sending had returned to him, making his sleep fitful. They would need the blessing of the Lady and more than a little luck to live to tell about their adventure.

Mid-morning, Carina and Carroway made ready to head into the city. Carroway checked the pouches at his belt one more time for his fireworks.

"It's time," Carroway said, managing a reckless grin. "Come on Carina, let's give them a performance to remember."

Carina hugged Kiara. Tris clapped Carroway on the shoulder, at a loss for what to say. In turn, Vahanian bid him farewell and wished him the blessing of the Lady.

"Watch your back," Vahanian warned Carina as he kissed her goodbye. "Good luck."

Even in the dim light, Tris could see the healer blush. "The Lady's hand be on you as well," she murmured. She took Carroway's hand and made her way out of the cellar.