Teesha's focus shifted instantly back to Magiere.

Realization didn't dawn on Magiere until she found herself looking down at the red-clad body lying limp across her bed. The head still rocked on the floor where it had fallen, neck stump dripping dark fluid onto the floor and into its disheveled hair. The eyes were locked wide, but the pale face was blank of expression.

Instead of triumph, loss and regret hit Magiere. Two single tears slipped out, not at the death of this creature so much as the death of the illusion Teesha had painted in her mind.

Chap sniffed at the head, then barked low and soft.

"Take Rose back to the stable and protect the children," she ordered him.

He looked up at her with a low whine of obvious disagreement.

"Do it!" she said.

Chap hesitated briefly, then left the room.

Magiere stood there for a long time. Finally, she picked up Teesha's head by its hair and walked back downstairs.

Chapter Twenty

Leesil waited tensely inside the shack with no idea the battle had already begun. The dwelling he crouched inside was not a home; Barely large enough for Karlin and himself to hide in, it must have once been a kind of toolshed. Now only spiders and a broken rake inhabited the place.

"It's well past sundown," Karlin whispered. "Shouldn't something have happened?"

"I don't know," Leesil answered honestly. "If they've discovered we're prepared, they may wait a long time."

"People will already be shaking from fear. Much longer, and they'll be exhausted."

"Exactly. Hence, the waiting if they know something is happening."

Leesil peered out a crack in the door, hoping to see something, anything, when he heard Rose scream. The sound shot through him like an arrow, and he burst out into the street without thinking.

"Rose?" he called and started for the stable up the street.

Another scream rang out, and in confusion, he turned toward the tavern. Karlin now stood beside him.

More screams echoed through the town around him.

Turning, he saw two dockworkers run from their hiding places in panic. Snarls and growls followed frightened cries, and Leesil stood dumbfounded, not knowing what he should do.

Wolves.

Long-legged, enraged animals were running in the streets and attacking Miiska's citizens. Some were even jumping through windows. Geoffry, Karlin's son, was holding off an enormous black beast with a makeshift spear. Leesil dropped his ax, grabbed Karlin's crossbow out of the man's hands, and fired, catching the wolf through the throat. "Get off the ground!" he yelled. The streets turned to chaos. His simple but well-laid plan shattered into pieces as more canine creatures appeared from around side streets to savagely rout his people from their hiding places. Thoughts of undeads disappeared as weapons and terror shifted toward new targets.

The wolves were not starving, mangy beasts. They appeared to be healthy timber wolves, except they had gone mad and were attacking anything human that moved. He and Magiere had some experience with wolves on the open road in Stravina, but he'd never known one to attack a person, unless famine or disease drove it to desperate action. Wolves avoided areas where people settled. But now, these tall, gray-and-black furred creatures ran down and savaged random citizens. Screams and snarls filled the night air. "Leesil!" Karlin shouted. 'The tavern's on fire."

Rashed sent the wolves ahead, following rapidly through the trees toward Miiska. This time it would be the hunter who was caught off guard, distracted by carnage, and he would be the one with well-prepared forces. While he did not consider wolves to be complex creatures, they became quite single-minded when he set them to a task for which they were suited. With one thought image, he showed them that task, ordering them to attack and kill anything that moved. They obeyed.

Reaching the edge of town, he strode in without hesitation, carrying a burning torch in one hand and his sword in the other. There was no time or need to hide in shadows now.

He felt no satisfaction when the screaming began. Random violence was distasteful and lacked honor. Even killing to feed was a foolish act that raised suspicion and depleted the local food supply. But the hunter had retreated to hide among the townspeople, so the town itself must be otherwise occupied for him to pull her into the open and finish this conflict. The hunter had forced him to this slaughter.

The closer he drew to the tavern, the more people ran out of nearby buildings, and this puzzled him. Few mortals made their homes near the docks or as far south in the town as The Sea Lion. He saw armed men jumping off roofs to either save those on the ground or escape from a wolf that had found its way up.

Magiere, the spineless hunter, had set a trap, hiding behind simple townsfolk and laborers. The thought angered him.

No one noticed him as he strode purposefully toward the tavern. In fact, only when the dwelling was directly in his sight did one person even try to stop him. A young town guard was aiming a crossbow at a wolf across the street when he saw Rashed and started slightly. Instead of shooting at the wolf, he aimed at Rashed and fired.

At full strength and concentration, the Noble Dead simply caught the quarrel in mid-air and tossed it aside.

The young guard's eyes widened, and he ran away.

Rashed did not follow. Instead, he walked up to The Sea Lion, kicked a few boards at its base loose, and thrust the torch's head in among them. The tavern's wood was old and dry, and burst into flames. He quickly repeated this act on each side of the building, leaving the back until last, after which he threw the torch through the upper window of what he knew was her bedroom. Then he returned to the front to wait for Magiere. She was inside. He could feel her presence after so many close encounters. He watched the door and windows for any glimpse of her.

At first he saw nothing. Then a flicker of movement passed by the small window to the left of the front door. His eyes focused between the door and main window of the common room, one of its shutters torn off and lying on the ground.

Magiere stepped into plain view through the larger window.

He was not surprised by her sudden appearance, but rather by her composure. Hair pulled back and armor cleaned, her expression was calm. She appeared fresh and rested, not like someone who'd been fighting night after night. The fire was spreading and devouring the tavern, but neither that nor the battle in the streets affected her. Why didn't she run out?

They stood, staring at each other. She gripped her falchion in one hand and kept the other hand hidden behind her.

Without a word, she lifted her concealed hand. For a moment, Rashed could not see what she held through the fire's glare and the dark inside the tavern. A distinct shape dangled down from brown strands of hair clenched in her fist.

Teesha's head.

Leesil's body no longer functioned as he wished, and desperation ran out of him in sweat that chilled on his skin in the cool night air. He'd worked his way through the turmoil, trying to drive off beasts assaulting people in the street, and now found himself near the shore, with the docks to the north of him and the near side of the tavern just to the south. Everything had deteriorated into confusion. Then Karlin shouted at him.

The Sea Lion was on fire.

Two bodies with torn throats lay between him and the burning tavern. In his present condition, he could not help Magiere fight, even if he could get to her. Staying on his feet was becoming more difficult with each passing moment.

Leesil looked frantically around, but saw no one he could call to assist with putting out the fire. Of the few people still standing, most were running or fighting for their lives. Should he try to organize some semblance of a retreat? If so, how?