Aoth meanwhile leveled his spear, set the head aglow with blue phosphorescence, and swung it in an arc to point at each oncoming guard in turn. They faltered, and so did almost every other stag man in the hall.

I told you they were mages, said Zyl. Jhesrhi noticed that he was sitting up on his haunches at the foot of the Stag King s throne.

Did you also tell him we claim guest right? asked Aoth. That means nobody should be trying to lay hands on us.

I trust Zyl s judgment within limits, the Stag King said. Still, it s one thing for him to tell me you have power and mettle, and another for me to see for myself. Now, I have. He beckoned. Come forward.

Jhesrhi drew her fire back inside herself, and Aoth raised his spear to point straight up again. They advanced side by side to the dais. Aoth s bow was deep enough to show respect, but no deeper. She copied it as best she could.

So, the spirit said. Interesting. Two mortals, both reborn in fire of one sort or another.

I didn t tell Zyl about that particular part of my past, Aoth replied. You fey are good at seeing what lies under the surface. Or else you ve heard of me.

The Stag King grinned. So close, his massive frame had a musky smell, pungent but not unpleasant. I d be a poor host if I said I hadn t heard of you, wouldn t I, Aoth Fezim, and so bruised your pride? he said. But then, I m a poor host anyway, offering no refreshment. He clapped his hands and called out in Elvish, Mulled cider for our guests!

It only took a moment for a female to enter through an archway carrying steaming earthenware goblets on a tray. The cups didn t all match.

Aoth shot Jhesrhi a warning glance, a reminder she didn t need. When she, the war mage, and the Stag King had each taken a cup and pledged one another, she only pretended to sip.

But apparently she or Aoth didn t pretend well enough, because the Stag King cocked his head and asked, Isn t the brew to your taste?

It might be pleasant, said Aoth, to spend a hundred years in revelry that would pass like a single night for us. But our business won t wait.

The hulking spirit laughed. It occurred to Jhesrhi that the action might have set the bells in his antlers chiming except that, as she observed, he didn t have any. Perhaps, since he possessed the ability to speak, unlike his subjects, he saw no need for them.

Evidently, he said, the two of you have heard your share of nursery fables and tavern tales.

Aoth shrugged. A person can only act on the basis of whatever information comes his way, he said. That s why you re fortunate that Lady Coldcreek, Zyl, and I are here today. We have important tidings to share.

Tilting back his head, and so clicking his antlers on the back of his throne, the Stag King drank from his cup and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Yes, he said. My trusty spy said the durthans have risen to resume their old quarrel with the hathrans, this time with new allies. But should that concern me? I helped the hathrans once. It entertained me. But who s to say it would do so a second time?

As I understand it, said Aoth, most dark fey sided with the durthans. Even though the fomorian lady you sent Zyl to spy on wasn t all that keen on the idea, it s a safe bet that many will again. And if they defeat the hathrans and the Iron Lord, isn t it likely that they ll want to settle old scores? You d be wiser to fight them now, before they build any more strength, and before they kill the folk who are willing to stand with you.

The Stag King grunted. Perhaps, he said. Or maybe, now that the hathrans have mighty wizards like you and the lady here to help them, my assistance is unnecessary. Or perhaps I ll simply go away, deep into the Feywild where no old foe will ever find me. He waved a hand in a gesture that encompassed the hall. You see the dreariness that passes for my court. My blood may have been a little too potent.

Jhesrhi scowled. You d forsake your own children? she asked. Abandon them to suffer and die without you?

The spirit grinned. Forgive me if, for whatever reason, that pierces to the quick. he said. But perhaps it doesn t have to be that way. I might be amenable to marching off to war if someone was willing to make it worth my while.

I d imagine, said Aoth, that when the war is done, the Rashemi will be happy to reward an ally.

But the hathrans and the Iron Lord aren t here, the Stag King replied. Nor do you truly have the authority to offer treasure on their behalf. Whereas you and Jhesrhi Coldcreek are here. What will you pay? Will she indenture herself to me as Zyl has done?

Are you sure? the Stag King asked as he turned his gaze on Jhesrhi. I m not such a bad master. Zyl will vouch for that. I can teach you a great deal, and make it easier to complete your transformation.

It is complete, she said through gritted teeth.

And I like it where I am.

The Stag King turned back to Aoth. Well, then, Captain, that leaves you, he said.

I have wealth to barter, the Thayan replied.

Gold, some talismans, enchanted weapons, and such. It s not all in Rashemen, but if we make a deal, I ll get it to you.

The enormous creature grinned. No need. Your greatest treasure is here: eyes infected with the Blue Fire that changed the whole world. Eyes with truesight. Give me one of them. You ll still see better than any other human in the world.

Aoth snorted and said, Unless some foe sneaks up on the wrong flank.

Then you decline the offer?

Of course. I explained that it s in your best interest to ally with the hathrans and me. That should be enough. I shouldn t have to haggle with you like I m trying to buy a carpet in a marketplace, and it s laughable that you think I d give up one of my most valuable officers, or mutilate myself, to purchase your help. With all due respect, it s nowhere near that important. So sit idle in this tumbledown pile if it pleases you. Jhes and I will find a way to beat the undead without you.

The Stag King glared. Is that your final word? he asked.

Yes, Aoth replied.

The spirit s glower softened into a crooked smile.

Well, I may not be a rug merchant, but you still can t blame me for trying, he said. But all right. My warriors and I will accompany you to the Fortress of the Half-Demon. We ll see what we can learn and whom we can kill.

SEVEN

Zyl had alluded to berserkers cutting themselves and frothing at the mouth. But though Vandar fought like a madman when the fury held him in its sway, Cera hadn t seen him do either of those things, and so she d assumed the hare was exaggerating.

She didn t think so anymore. Even though the warriors of the Griffon Lodge weren t headed into battle at the moment, and the excitement they were experiencing was likely only a shadow of what they would feel then, a few were indeed slicing their own brawny arms and chests. Others gnashed their teeth in a gesture seemingly intended to mimic a griffon snapping its beak, a gesture that often sent spittle flying through the air. Meanwhile, the rest had other ways of acting crazy. They screeched like griffons, swept their arms wide like griffons spreading their wings, or punched their neighbors for no particular reason.

Which was to say, with Vandar having delivered his news, his brothers were raising the feral spirit they d likely need when they reached the Fortress of the Half-Demon. Cera suspected that Jet, standing with Vandar and her in front of the crowd, was a potent source of inspiration. The berserkers might constitute the Griffon Lodge, but how many of them had ever been so close to their totem?

At first, Jet regarded the berserkers display with what Cera had learned to recognize as dour tolerance, an attitude of

Humans are idiots, but there s nothing to be done about it. Soon, however, he raised his black-feathered head high. Some of the Rashemi fell silent, and the echoing clamor inside the lodge diminished.