It was the stone statue that Caven and Maleficent had become.

Kitiara was back in the clearing with her companions.

Undaunted, Kitiara set off again for Haven, on a different path this time. An hour later, the swords-woman encountered the same tangle of burrs and weeds and landed back in the clearing again.

Then Kitiara, her jaw set with anger, sat down, sword across her knees, her back to a tree, to wait for dawn. Within moments, despite her vow of vigilance, she was fast asleep.

Perhaps a sixth sense warned her. Perhaps she awakened because of the intense emotions brought on by her dream, in which her dead mother stood in the middle of a bridge calling to her. At any rate, opening her eyes to slits, Kitiara tried to pierce the darkness around her, but she lacked the half-elf's nightvision. The darkness was opaque to her all-too-human eyes.

Inwardly she cursed her unfounded weakness. Kitiara Uth Matar did not fall asleep on watch. She had no way of knowing how much time had passed. Moving as though she were still asleep and merely finding a more comfortable position, she shifted a bit against the oak, letting her right hand drop to the earth, as near her sword's hilt as she could manage. She studied her surroundings surreptitiously.

Pairs of greenish lights glowed from the underbrush. Lightning bugs, she thought, even as she realized that the beetles didn't travel in pairs. She peered closely at one set of lights. Another wichtlin? The lights blinked. The wichtlin that had killed her companions certainly had not blinked.

Other pairs of eyes joined the first, and then more, until dozens of fiery orbs watched, fixed on her. Hearing no new sound, Kitiara finally rose cautiously to her feet, catching up her sword and shaking her head to clear it of the cloud of exhaustion that had seemed, in the last few days, to descend on her all too often. Was she ill again? Or had the wichtlin poisoned her after all?

Hundreds of lights now peered from the darkness around her. Teardrop-shaped green eyes. Round gold ones, with pupils shaped like diamonds. Horribly, a few single eyes. The shining orbs pressed toward her. Again she heard indistinct breathing. Were the woods themselves inhaling and exhaling? She cast the thought away.

Yet the creatures seemed to come only so close, and no more. Kitiara detected an odor-the sharp scent of sweat, which in anyone else she would have called the scent of fear. Her own fear? But Kitiara never admitted to fear.

Why in the Abyss did the things hold back? Why didn't they attack? They'd lost the element of surprise, but clearly they outnumbered her.

They fear me. With good reason, I might add.

The words came into Kitiara's head unbidden. The magic that had dispelled the wichtlin, the ettin's presence, the ice jewels in her pack-all pointed in one direction. Her voice hissed. "Janusz? If it is you, show yourself, you coward."

There was no answer, merely a muffled gasp-from where, Kitiara couldn't tell. The Valdane's mage, who certainly had more reason than anyone to plot revenge against her, would not have answered thusly. Therefore the presence was someone else.

Kitiara gazed around her at the pinpoints of eyes.

No. Up here, Captain Uth Matar.

Keeping her sword ready, Kitiara pivoted and peered into the branches of the aged oak above her. At first she saw nothing in the darkness. But then two horizontal slits appeared in the murk high above her. They opened, curved, and curved still more until she was gazing at two circular orange shapes the size of saucers. Within each flaming circle floated a smaller orb, as black as the night around her. As she watched, the orange circles narrowed to thin bands, and the black orbs within-the creature's pupils, she realized-dilated. The thing was studying her, by the gods! But what was it?

You'll see me better with your eyes closed, my dear captain. Look into your heart, Kitiara Uth Matar. Its message is plain, even when the eyes play tricks.

"What idiocy is this?" Kitiara cried. "Show yourself, vermin!"

Vermin? I?

At that moment, she heard a faint buzzing. "Are you a giant hornet? A venomous bee?" she demanded. Yet those creatures would hardly be about at night, and certainly they wouldn't be hovering in a tree making conversation with a human. She pulled her dagger with her left hand. Her right already held her sword. Kitiara backpedaled into the clearing, away from the danger.

Put away your puny weapons, Kitiara Uth Matar.

"Don't be ridiculous, creature."

We are no threat-to you, at least.

"I'll decide that. Show yourself. Now."

A long silence, and more buzzing. Finally Kitiara sensed a whooshing, like an otherworldly sigh.

You are rude, human. I should abandon you here with the undead and your pathetic, ensorcelled friends. But that might hasten your own death, which I have promised to prevent-for the time being, at least. But do try to stay on my good side, Captain.

Kitiara had stopped listening halfway through. "Ensorcelled? Tanis…? So they're not dead?"

You are so easily fooled, human. I said you trust your eyes too much.

"Show yourself, monster."

There was a sudden ruffling noise above her, as though something large had fluffed out its feathers in a sudden huff. Then the air warped around her and wind buffeted her-the beating of wings, she realized. A screech like a banshee's rent the darkness. "Oh, by the gods," Kitiara said dismissively, letting the point of her sword drop. "You're just a big, dumb bird."

There was more buzzing from above. The creature screeched again. The tree creaked as the thing shifted from clawed foot to clawed foot. Then silence reigned, broken only by that strong buzzing that seemed trapped inside Kit's head. Finally a new voice sounded, a woman's voice, threaded with warmth and humor. "I fear you've alienated my companion, Kitiara Uth Matar."

"I've heard this voice before. Show yourself."

A pause. "Shirak." A glow emanated through the clearing. A huge owl, as tall as two men from ear tufts to stubby tail and obviously piqued, glared down at the swordswoman. "A giant owl," Kitiara said softly. "I've heard of your kind. Yet you speak Common and have some magical ability, which I'd not thought possible."

A dark human face with delicate features peered over the side of the bird's wing. "You are in Darken Wood. And my friend Xanthar is extraordinary in many ways," the woman said softly. Even in the greenish magelight, Kitiara could see that her eyes were startlingly blue.

"I know you," the swordswoman said slowly. "You were a maid to Dreena ten Valdane. And a magic-user, if I recall. But I do not recall blue eyes."

"Lida Tenaka," the woman whispered. Kitiara could barely hear her next words. "I have come looking for you, Kitiara Uth Matar."

The owl sprang into the air, spread his wings, and landed, astonishingly softly for one so large, between the frozen forms of Tanis and Caven. Then the owl extended a wing, and Lida Tenaka glided gracefully down its feathered surface to the ground. For all her delicacy, she seemed comfortable being in Darken Wood at night. Kitiara studied her but didn't sheath her sword. This Lida Tenaka might be an apparition, a manifestation of some evil that had tunneled into Kitiara's consciousness as she slept. There was no proof that this slim, robed woman was the real Lida Tenaka. Kitiara observed her carefully.

Over her shoulder she carried a large drawstring bag, heavy from the looks of it, the leather thongs that kept it closed gathered into a knot. The sack showed the outline of a large circular object, appearing to be flat on one side, and, when the woman's movements caused the contents to shift, convex on the other side. The woman's face was expressionless, her lively eyes the only sign of humanity in her somber face. But her voice was kind. "Xanthar and I have flown long hours looking for you, Captain Uth Matar. I am glad to have finally found you."