"I did not turn them," he rasped at her and then faltered. "But I did not stop him either… and have regretted it ever since."

Her gaze softened, but only briefly. "Are my companions safe?"

More suspicion-and still legitimate. Chane knew he did not have much time left.

"Magiere took Welstiel's head… and the orb he sought. I thought it would be a small thing, created by some forgotten undead who no longer wished to feed. But… it is much more. What is it, Wynn?"

Her small brows drew closer. "It was created in the time of the Forgotten. I have been trying to find pieces-hints and clues-written by one of its guardians on these walls. It may have been created by whatever made her and the other undead who first appeared in the war."

She was close enough for Chane to reach out and touch.

"The orb belongs with the sages," she added.

The sages. Once Chane had believed that he, too, belonged among them-and with her. She did not seem to fear him now, but she should.

What place was there in her world for such a beast?

One that would never stop hungering and straining at its bonds.

Chane stepped out, walking wide as he turned his eyes from Wynn's.

He tried to hide his expression by studying the texts upon the shelves. He should leave and get as far from her as possible. But he could not bring himself to go just yet and lowered his gaze to the unconscious elf.

Bitterness slipped out. "Who is that?"

"I told you. One of our guardians… an envoy of the elves. It is a long story." She glanced at stone doors. "You should go. If Magiere and Chap find you here…"

Chane shook his head at her wish to protect him.

Wynn Hygeorht the sage-and sweet, naive little guardian of monsters.

"So, you will take the orb to your guild?" he whispered.

"Yes."

Chane closed his eyes, seeing the Wynn he remembered, clothed in gray robes and drinking mint tea in a warm study full of scrolls and books.

He would never be part of that vision. He had been lying to himself for too long. If she ever saw that feral beast inside of him, he could not bear to exist any longer.

"I will not follow you anymore," he said with back turned. "You will not see me again."

He did not mean to turn and look, but he did.

Wynn stood with tears running down her olive-toned face.

It was last time he would cause her pain.

Chane strode along the dark row of bookshelves, and it was hard not to look back. He almost reached the side passage when his boot toe kicked something across the floor.

It rattled like hollow metal, and he glanced down. In the dark, he spotted an old tin scroll cylinder rocking slightly where it had come to rest by the wall.

Chane stepped into the passage, and then paused. He turned and stared back at the dark casements.

So much was here upon the shelves. Perhaps Wynn would salvage what she could before leaving, though likely she would not carry away much. It would have been good to be there when she returned with her finds to Domin Tilswith in Bela, especially after all she had been through to reach this lost place.

Chane stepped back out and looked down at that lone scroll case, now motionless where it lay. He stooped and picked it up, then turned back down the passage.

When he reached the stairway chamber, with its archway to the wide corridor of columns, the bodies of feral monks littered the floor, headless and still. He found his pack and tucked the scroll away with the books taken from the monastery. He slung both his pack and Welstiel's over his shoulders along with a piece of canvas and a length of rope. He left everything else behind.

Chane kept his mind empty all the way down the long corridor of columns. But it grew harder to stay numb inside as he left, passed through the iron gates, and stumbled out upon the snow.

Magiere carefully removed the circlet from the orb's spike and hung it back around her neck. Then she gripped the top of the spike and tried simply lifting the orb from its resting hole in the store stand. Now it felt heavy, like an anvil, and she used both hands to lift it out. With the spike intact, it did not illuminate again, and remained dormant.

Li'kan just stood there, eyes locked on the empty stand. She glanced once at Leesil, and her face wrinkled briefly.

Magiere was ready to drop the orb and step into the undead's path. Li'kan's world had changed for the first time in centuries. How would she react?

Confusion passed over the white undead's face. She turned back to staring at the orb's stone stand, as if she couldn't understand what the empty place meant.

"Start heading for the tunnel," Magiere whispered.

"What?" Leesil asked.

"Just do it."

Chap and Sgaile had already gone to the cavern landing, and Magiere waited until Leesil was well onto the bridge before she turned to follow. When she stepped off into the landing's hollow, she looked back.

Li'kan stood before the bridge's far end. Mist began to gather once more in the cavern as the chasm's heat rose to warm the wet walls.

Magiere could swear Li'kan was glaring at her, and that she tried to step upon the bridge. A wafting curl of mist blocked the ancient undead from sight and drifted into the cavern's upper air.

Li'kan stood still as ice on the platform before the bridge.

Magiere backed away toward the tunnel.

The orb had sustained Li'kan for centuries, and without it, that ancient thing would soon hunger again. Magiere remembered Li'kan lifting the iron bar from the wall doors, her frail body barely straining with the effort.

"We haven't found Chane yet," Leesil argued.

"It doesn't matter-just go!"

Leesil headed into the tunnel. As Magiere followed, she saw blood matting the fur on Chap's neck and the dark stain on Sgaile's cowl and vestment.

"It is a clean cut," he said without slowing. "I will dress it later."

They couldn't stop, not with Li'kan still free behind them. Whatever held the undead back, Magiere wasn't about to wait and see if it lasted. She felt little relief when they passed the last skeleton-filled hollows of the tunnel and approached the parted stone doors. She desperately needed her strength to last for one more task. Magiere stepped out behind the others into the dark library.

Wynn was kneeling next to Osha but gazing blankly at the floor. Such sadness lingered on her face, but it vanished when she looked up at all of them. Her eyes locked on the orb as Magiere crouched to gently set it down.

Magiere turned immediately, throwing her weight into one of the stone doors.

"Leesil!" she grunted, and he came in beside her. Sgaile joined them as well.

The door barely moved at first, and Magiere wished she had her hunger again.

Finally, the bottom edge grated along the floor. It took longer to close the other one, and both Sgaile and Leesil's faces glistened with sweat by the time it shut.

The iron beam still lay on the floor.

Realization passed across both Sgaile's and Leesil's faces, followed by doubt. Sgaile had only one good arm and couldn't be doing well with his wounded shoulder.

"One end at a time," he said. "And you must get it off the floor before we can assist you."

Magiere took hold of the beam's end. In place of hunger she tried to find fury, remembering her mother dying in bed. She thrust upward with her legs.

"Now!" Magiere grunted, as the beam's end reached her waist.

"Where is Li'kan?" Wynn asked.

Leesil and Sgaile ducked in, bracing one shoulder each beneath the beam.

They all heaved, pushing up with their legs, and Magiere's arms began to tremble. As Leesil and Sgaile pressed upward, she poured all the strength she could summon into one last thrust.

The beam grated over the stone bracket of the closest door. As it crested the bracket's top, Magiere shouted, "Get back!"