As they passed a side opening in a widening of the passage, Chap swerved and leaped through the doorway. Magiere and Leesil turned, as well. As Wynn stepped in behind them, she glimpsed a blur, little more than a moving shadow, racing away.

She faltered as fright took a sharp hold on her.

A creature like Vordana would never flee. He would not need to.

Someone screamed out, "No, no! Please no."

Leesil and Magiere were in front her, weapons out but poised where they stood. The broken shelves and scattered pots and implements on the floor told Wynn they were in some type of kitchen. Vordana, or any undead, would not plead in fear. She pushed past her companions with a shout.

"No, Chap! Stop it!"

Leesil grabbed her from behind. Both blades were in one hand as he wrapped his other arm around her waist. He lifted her out of the way as if she were a small cat. Wynn struggled to see what they had cornered. The cold lamps jangling in her grip made light waver across the walls, and she could not make out anything beyond Chap but the arch of the cooking hearth.

Leesil dropped Wynn to her feet and grabbed Chap by the scruff of his neck. "Enough, get back."

Chap snarled but obeyed, and Wynn steadied one lamp, holding it up so that its light spilled out beyond the dog.

Cowering inside the barren hearth's hollow was a boy dressed in tatters turned dark by dirt and grime. Gaunt, with filthy brown-black hair to his shoulders, he squirmed to the hearth's far side and pressed one shoulder tightly into the comer. He covered his face as he looked out in horror, only one eye peeking between stick-thin fingers. There were fresh slashes down his arm from Chap's claws.

"Chap, what have you done?" Wynn cried.

Magiere crept forward in a crouch, ready to lunge at the boy, and her voice sounded forced and slurred. "Leesil, let Chap go!"

Wynn turned to Leesil, about to argue, but Leesil stood wary and tense with his gaze locked upon the cowering little figure. Wynn's own anger faded.

The topaz amulet Magiere had given Leesil hung in plain view, and it glowed brightly.

"It is only a boy," she whispered, looking back to the hearth in disbelief.

The boy shuddered continuously as he tried to force himself deeper into the hearth's corner.

Magiere glared back at Wynn. "I don't care what it was. "

Her irises were completely black, her words barely clear, as if her mouth wouldn't form them correctly. Wynn wasn't certain, but Magiere's teeth appeared longer between her moving lips.

'Think," Wynn insisted. "No one lives here. The village and keep were deserted long ago. Do you not find it strange that he is here alone?"

"Wynn, don't you do this again," Leesil warned.

"No!" she shouted back, and jerked out of his reach.

Chap tried to snap his jaws closed on her short robe's hem, but Wynn backed away to the wall by the hearth. She crouched down along the wall, set her lamps upon the floor, and peered around the hearth's edge. Languages came easily to her, and she had picked up enough Droevinkan now to converse in simple phrases.

"If you… attack," she said quietly, "They… take your head. Understand? Be still and we… not hurt you."

"Speak for yourself," Magiere hissed.

"Magiere, not now. " Wynn kept her gaze upon the boy. "What is your name?"

He studied her and finally pulled his hands from his face, glancing now and then at the others. "Tomas," he whispered, as if it were some secret he shared with her.

"Did you eat… the rats?"

The boy shrank back, eyes on Magiere. Wynn did not turn her attention away to see what had made him cower again. He shook his head.

"No. My food all dead now. Can't find any but dead ones. " His voice cracked. "I starve now."

Pity washed through Wynn.

"No toads, no rats, no snakes, and birds all gone," Tomas whispered, and his eyes half closed in exhaustion. "I sleep. I starve. I sleep more."

His face was so coated with filth, it was dun colored instead of the pale shade Wynn remembered of Chane and the undead of Bela. His gaunt body would not stop quivering.

Wynn dug blindly in her pack, watching Tomas cautiously. She felt the slick skin of an apple, and then another. When she had found three, she pulled them out.

"We have nothing for you," she said, holding out the fruit.

"These come from… living tree. Fresh. Perhaps some life in them."

Tomas lunged at her.

"Wynn, get back!" Leesil snapped.

She felt his grip close on the shoulder of her short robe as Chap rushed forward with snapping teeth. Before Leesil could jerk her away, Tomas's narrow fingers seized the apples. One crashed in his grip as he quickly retreated into the hearth. Wynn thrust out her arm in Chap's way, and the dog halted.

Tomas shrank into his corner. Sharp teeth and fangs sank through an apple's skin. His gaze fixed on Chap as he sucked, hunger overriding fear.

"Wynn, what are you doing?" Magiere demanded, stepping forward.

This time it was Leesil who held a hand out to stop her.

"Who did this to you?" Wynn asked.

Tomas looked at her, still sucking hard upon the apple, and his fingers made dents in the fruit from his tight grip. His brow furrowed over wide eyes, as if he did not understand the question. He glanced about the room before letting the fruit slip from his mouth.

"Long time back… very long," he said, staring at the floor before he looked up at Wynn again. 'Too many before me ran away. He said he would make me stay, wanted to be sure he could do this… good practice, he said."

Tomas set his other two apples on the floor. He flattened one hand there to lean in Wynn's direction.

"He drank me-like a rat," Tomas said firmly, as if the comparison had just occurred to him. "Like a toad, like a lizard, like a snake but not a bird, because those are too hard to catch. He made me be like him, Lord Massing, but I fooled him. Young master taught me how."

Wynn pressed her hand against the stone wall as a wave of cold sank through her, filling her with nausea. She looked up at Magiere.

Magiere crouched low, creeping forward toward Tomas. "Massing? Is mat who lived here? Was he lord of this fief?"

Tomas pulled back. He spat at her, pulling his spare apples closer to hold them between his bare feet.

"Stay away," Wynn warned Magiere.

"Warm… the warm girl is better," Tomas whispered.

He stared at Wynn and, for an instant, she thought she saw his irises fade to colorless crystalline disks. Tomas held up his mangled apple.

"Even nicer than the young master," he added.

"My name is Wynn," she said. "The young master… Did Lord Massing have a son? Tomas, do you… know the lord's first name?"

The boy shook his head and licked his fruit. "Don't know, didn't hear, never told. Wasn't here long before they went away. But the young master taught me of rats and lizards and snakes so I wouldn't need no folks from the village. Can't feed on kin, it's not right. Young master taught me."

"Cursed saints!" Leesil whispered. "Welstiel was here, and he had a son? Or was the son? What's the little monster telling us?"

Tomas looked blankly at Leesil. He seemed unaffected by the names he was called and returned to sucking on the apple.

"They left him here," Wynn said. "They abandoned him, and he's been living here on rats."

"You're eating rats?" Leesil asked the boy.

Tomas shook his head. "No more, just dead ones, all dried up the same day. All gone."

"All at once?" Wynn asked. "When?"

"Not long back. " Tomas frowned and dropped his gaze from Wynn's face. "I sleep some nights. Too hungry. I wake, not sure if same night. Don't remember but not long back."

Wynn looked up at Leesil. "The trees are not as far gone as those we saw in Pudurlatsat, and this boy says the rats all died at once. You know what this sounds like?"