At the command, the water in the bowl cleared, showing no evidence of the golden edelweiss beneath its surface. It depicted a woodland scene. Kai-lid suppressed a cry of joy. There was the half-elf, leading a

chestnut gelding through the early-morning grayness, and behind him, Kitiara Uth Matar and the other mercenary on black horses. A yawning lad trailed, gnawing at a large roll. The small band was deep in conversation, although her scrying spell allowed Kai-lid only to see, not to overhear. She could see a frown crease the half-elf's face as he pushed plants aside, poked at the soil, and, balanced on his haunches, elbows resting on his bent knees, hands dangling between, scrutinized the ground.

Kai-lid watched for some time, hoping to tell from the group's surroundings exactly where they were. Not Darken Wood, of course, but definitely some temperate woodland. She saw maples, oaks, sycamores, and pines, and an undergrowth of maple saplings. Thick, low shrubbery told Kai-lid the travelers were near the edge of a forest, where sunlight had more of a chance of nourishing the plants near the ground.

Suddenly she saw the half-elf stiffen and lean over, his gaze fixed on something on the ground. His whole attitude changed from watchfulness to action. He moved from the trail to a place just off to the right. He poked at something on the ground-a footprint?-while the two other mercenaries waited on their horses and the squire chewed and swallowed. Then the half-elf pointed to his right, virtually in the opposite direction, back the way they'd come. The mercenaries sat up in their saddles, impatience apparent in their stance as the half-elf returned to his horse. The group wheeled around.

"They're following something," Kai-lid said. She watched a few moments longer, then nodded. "Mort-megh, mortrhyan, merhet. End it."

The water once more was water, the bowl just a bowl; the edelweiss shone as before at the bottom. She pushed the purple shawl back and felt its folds at the back of her neck. Kai-lid rested her temples on suddenly weak hands. Her black hair slipped forward like silk, and elation vied with weariness. Xanthar remained silent at the cave's opening. He must know from the sounds that she had finished, but he also knew that scrying always exhausted her.

Finally she lifted her head from her arms and moved to open the curtain. A pair of worried orange eyes peered at her. "I found them," she said quietly.

"I've been thinking. Perhaps we should let this be," the owl interjected. He whetted his beak twice against the granite of the cave mouth. "After all, it was only a dream."

"It was real," Kai-lid began anew. "I saw the two mercenaries, the half-elf, and a boy. They're tracking something."

"Where?"

Kai-lid shrugged. "Near Haven, I'd guess. But north, south?… I'll have to watch them, look for landmarks." She was silent for a time, frowning. Then she spoke again, more tentatively now. "Do you think I can… persuade the four of them to take on such a quest?"

The owl cocked his head. "They are mercenaries, after all. You have no money. What can you offer them?"

"I don't know… yet." Kai-lid leaned against the doorway and gazed around the clearing-her clearing. For a few short months, it had afforded her a safety she hadn't known before. Now she must leave it.

"They may recognize me," she mused.

"As Dreena? You are disguised."

"No, not as Dreena. When I realized what Lida had done, I took on most of her appearance to… to honor her memory and to leave Dreena behind forever. They may recognize Lida."

The owl touched her shoulder gently with his beak, and Kai-lid intertwined the fingers of one hand in the soft feathers of his cream-colored breast. His voice came lightly to her mind. You can adopt a new guise, of course.

They moved apart, the mage shaking her head. "No. It may not be such a bad idea if they recognize Lida. I'll think about it. First of all, I must discover where they are and where they're going." She turned back toward the cave, but the owl's movement arrested her.

"Scrying tires you. Perhaps I can find them," Xanthar said aloud, switching once more to regular human speech. The owl flexed his wings. Kai-lid closed her eyes against the grit and dust that suddenly swirled around the clearing before her cave. Then the owl settled down again. "Hop aboard," he invited, spreading low one huge wing.

"I'll get my things," she said.

Chapter 9

"Morning. Time for bed."

"No. Lady soldier follows. Master says so."

"Too bad. Res sleep days."

"Not now!"

"Hunger. Food soon?"

"Maybe."

"Soldiers follow?"

"Yes, yes."

"Good," Res announced. "Eat them."

"No!" The ettin's left head struggled to recall the word the Master had used. A long word, and so long ago-nearly an hour. The Master had forced the left head to repeat the word, and the warning, many

times. "Capture!" Lacua finally crowed now, remembering. "Not eat. Not, not, not." Its watery eyes, shaped like a pig's, squinted. The ettin's left hand brandished a spiked club with each "not."

The right head spat. Then Res brightened. "Are four," he pressed. "Capture one, eat-" he hesitated over the impossible arithmetic- "eat rest?"

"Capture," Lacua repeated. "Not eat. Not, not, not."

"One? Only?"

Lacua argued the proposition with himself. The Master, whom he had spoken to through the Talking Stone just before dawn, had said to lure the lady soldier to the appointed mountain in Darken Wood, capture her, and wait. But Janusz had omitted rules about her companions. The lady was for capture, the mage had said. That meant… what? The others weren't for capture? Or were?

Lacua pondered. The range of choices gave him a headache. But he finally decided. "Capture girl, eat one not-girl." The two heads smiled, revealing rotten teeth. The ettin, its four beady eyes open for small game, continued north, careful to leave plenty of footprints as the Master had ordered.

Hours later, just as the sun passed its zenith, Tanis and his companions stood on the same spot, staring at the footprints-nearly three fingers deep, the right foot larger than the left-and then at the forbidding environs into which the prints were headed.

"Darken Wood," Caven whispered. Tanis nodded, his gaze probing the underbrush.

There was no gentle transformation from one type of forest to another here. Instead, it was as though the icy finger of an angered god had drawn a line among the trees. Those on one side remained normal in appearance, while the rest withered or twisted. A dank breeze flowed from the woods, prickling the hair at the back of the two men's necks. Although a light wind moved the tattered leaves in the woods, no sound came to their ears.

Wode was fidgeting with his horse's mane. "It's the silence of the Abyss," he said softly. Kitiara slugged him on the arm to silence him.

"Half-elf," Mackid said, just above a whisper. "I'll concede you this: I've never seen such an evil landscape in all my days on Ansalon." Tanis nodded again, deep in thought.

Without another word, the companions dismounted and drew their swords; even Wode carried a small knife, which he seemed to draw some slight comfort from. Suddenly the teen-ager spoke again, his voice cracking. "The trees bleed!" He pointed a quivering hand at one of the pines.

The other three looked where the squire gestured. A strange look crossed Caven's features. "By the gods, Wode, this is no time for jokes!" he exploded. He clenched his hands and started toward the teen-ager.