They all looked around, but they saw nothing except the magnificent orbs. The laugh came yet again, mocking them.

Then an azure glow began to build on one side of the roof. Turning, his hand clamped tightly around the hilt of his sword, Tristan watched as the glow took shape. As it coalesced, he and Shailiha found themselves staring at their long-lost sibling, the half brother they hadn't known existed until only a short time ago.

Wulfgar was wearing emerald silk trousers and a matching jacket that lay partially open, exposing his muscular chest. His sandy hair was pulled back from his forehead.

In his arms he held the Scroll of the Vigors.

If Wulfgar had the scroll, that meant he had found Faegan, Tristan realized. Was the wizard dead? And what had happened to Celeste?

Placing the precious scroll down on the roof, Wulfgar gave them all a menacing smile and took several brazen steps nearer.

At that moment, Wigg raised his arms and sent twin azure bolts at Wulfgar.

Casually, almost lazily, Wulfgar also raised his hands and caught a bolt in each. Then, placing his hands together, he joined the two bolts into one and took another step forward. As he did he looked squarely at Wigg and smiled again. Then he spread his fingers.

The azure bolt went screaming back toward Wigg and struck him squarely in the chest, throwing him high into the air, and across the roof. He landed hard on his back, unconscious. The front of his robe was scorched and smoking, and his arms were outstretched, as if in supplication.

Tristan, Shailiha, and Tyranny ran to him and knelt down. Wigg didn't seem to be breathing. Standing slowly, Tristan glared back with hatred at the monster that had just dared call him brother.

"Is he dead?" he asked, his body shaking with anger. He wanted to attack Wulfgar then and there. But after all he had just seen, he knew it would be hopeless.

Wulfgar simply smiled.

"I asked you a question, you bastard!" the prince raged. "Is Wigg dead?"

On hearing the insulting reference to his parentage, Wulfgar's face fell for a moment, and his gaze hardened. Then his composure resurfaced again.

Wulfgar pursed his lips. "Probably," he answered shortly. "I don't really know. Nor do I care, any more than I care about Faegan, or the daughter of the so-called lead wizard." Then the smile came again. "Don't you see?" he asked. He gave a sarcastic laugh. "I'm still rather new at all this."

Completely beyond anger, Tristan took a determined step forward, but Shailiha grabbed his arm. Tristan stopped, but continued to stare into Wulfgar's eyes.

"You had best listen to our sister," Wulfgar said. "You are untrained, and I could kill you with a single thought."

"Then why don't you?" Tristan snarled.

"I may do that yet," Wulfgar answered softly. "But as you have apparently guessed, I have other, more important business to finish first. A mission that your late son first entrusted to Krassus, and then Krassus entrusted to me." A new thought seemed to cross his mind, and he smiled at Tristan.

"Tell me, Jin'Sai," he said nastily. "What does it feel like to know that you have not only murdered your own father, but have also lost your only child, as well?"

Tristan took a slow, measured step forward. "The same way it will feel when I kill my only brother," he growled quietly. "Sad, but necessary."

Wulfgar shook his head. "Krassus told me you would be inordinately stubborn in your beliefs," he said. He looked down into the courtyard to see that the prince's Minions were finishing off his demonslavers. Strangely, he seemed quite unconcerned.

"Don't you care about what is happening to them?" Tristan asked.

"Why should I?" Wulfgar answered. "You have apparently done away with my fleet, or you wouldn't be standing here. I don't know how you did it, and I don't care. None of that matters any longer, for neither of your wizards can help you. The demonslavers, the screechlings, and the sea slitherers were only a means to an end. Besides, the slavers were all originally your subjects, not mine.

"And by the way," he continued, "order those Minion warriors behind you to go back down into the courtyard and tell the others not to come up. If any of them approach, our lovely sister-your famous twin-will die."

Turning, Tristan looked at the warriors and gave them a nod. Reluctantly they jumped from the edge of the roof and soared toward the courtyard.

Trying hard not to look up at the hill above them, Tristan turned back to Wulfgar. He could only hope that after hearing what Wigg had told them in the litter, Shailiha and Tyranny would have the good sense to do the same.

He thought desperately, as if by willing it hard enough he could somehow make them hear him. If Wulfgar turned his gaze there, they would all be finished.

"Now then," Wulfgar said, almost politely. "Shall we begin?"

Raising one arm, he encased everyone before him on the roof in a wizard's warp. Tristan couldn't move any of his limbs, but he found that he still controlled his powers of speech. Apparently satisfied, Wulfgar stared calmly at the people trapped in his warp.

"You're going to destroy the Orb of the Vigors, aren't you?" Shailiha asked. "That's what this has been about all along!"

"Of course," Wulfgar answered calmly. "But before I do, there is something I would like the two of you to know. It will pain you to hear it, I'm sure. But then again, making my brother and sister happy isn't really why I have come."

"What is it?" Tristan asked.

Looking over to one side, Wulfgar pointed down at the Scroll of the Vigors.

"That scroll," he began, "the one you held in your possession so briefly, holds many of the answers you seek. Yes, Jin'Sai, it even tells of the potential coming of your azure blood, and of how you might eventually rid yourself of it. But now, with the scroll in my possession, none of those things will ever happen. For until your blood reverts you cannot be trained, cannot wear the Paragon, and cannot read the Tome, and you will be unable to fulfill your so-called destiny. You will even be barred from siring children, for your tainted blood would be far too dangerous for any woman's to join with. Have your friends the wizards told you that yet? Your famous, all-powerful blood that was to have empowered you above all others is now the very thing you must most despise." The wicked smile came again.

"Aside from me, of course," he added knowingly. He turned to look at the orbs.

"How can one of our blood be so evil?" Shailiha shouted at him. "Doesn't any part of you care about the horrific, irreparable damage you are about to cause?"

Turning back from the orbs, Wulfgar looked directly into his sister's eyes.

"Evil, you say?" he asked her. "Don't you understand? I have no concept of the word 'evil.' As Krassus was so fond of saying, we of the Vagaries simply have a different point of view."

Turning again, he raised his hands. Almost immediately the orbs began burning brighter.

Never taking his eyes from his bastard brother, Tristan turned his thoughts toward the hill.

A bbey saw Wulfgar turn toward the orbs and saw them glow even more brightly. She levitated the parchment Wigg had given her so that it hovered in the air before her. Opening the cinch bag at her waist, she took out a pinch of precious herbs and placed them on the tinder she had prepared and lit. Then she stood back and used her gifts to force the fire higher and higher. When it was at last about two meters high and a meter wide, she crooked a finger toward her, ordering the flame to divide into two unequal branches. Curling her finger again, she pointed to the right, and the smaller of the two flames flattened out, coming dangerously close to scorching her hands and face. Looking down, she blessed the Afterlife that Wulfgar's back was still toward her.