She led the way slowly along the row of stone and timber houses, all the while watching for signs of movement or life. She stopped one dwelling away from the one they sought and dropped down on her haunches.

Built of heavy, mortared stone, it wasn't what she'd expected. At least not compared to the warehouse backrooms and underground chambers used by Miiska's undeads. Leesil slipped forward to crouch beside her.

It sat sedate and respectable amongst its neighbors in this quiet and well-to-do street, front door to the left atop three steps. There was one wide window with heavy shutters closed over it. The next two floors up each held two windows evenly spaced but similarly protected.

"We can't do this out in the open," Leesil said. "For that matter, we may have already attracted attention we're not aware of. Best look for a rear entrance."

He moved out ahead, peered along the building's front, and then scurried back to Magiere's side.

"There's an access way on the far side," he said.

Leesil reached behind himself and pulled out the thin box he'd slipped up into the back of his hauberk. He glanced at Vatz and Wynn, and then Magiere.

She waited, expecting him to say something, but he gripped the box under his arm and dashed along the front of the house. Magiere unsheathed her falchion and followed him.

The rear door wasn't as wide as the front. Leesil removed a thin silvery strut from inside his toolbox's lid as he inspected the door handle again for anything notable.

"No lock, so it's latched or bolted from the inside," he whispered to Magiere.

He pressed slowly and firmly against the door until he could slip the tiny strut through the crack at its frame. Closing his eyes, he slid the strut upward until it reached and raised a latch. He pulled the strut out and placed it into its slot in the box's lid.

"Too easy," Leesil whispered. "Everyone stay clear of the door."

Leesil tugged the crossbow's strap over his head and set the weapon upon the ground. He cocked and loaded it, signaling to Vatz to do the same. The boy plopped onto the ground and braced his feet against the bow, working its string into the catch.

Again, Leesil examined frame and door but found nothing. He leaned against the wall on the door's hinged side. Then he pushed the door open with his right hand and quickly pulled back.

Nothing happened.

"If anything, and I mean anything, comes at you or Wynn," Leesil instructed Vatz, "you fire first and both of you get out of the way. Don't get fancy. Aim for the center of its body or the first part you can sight. Pain from the garlic water might buy you a moment, but that's all. If one of these things gets hold of you, it'll snap you in half."

Vatz blinked, suddenly very still and quiet. He nodded, tight-lipped and determined. Chap rumbled softly, and Leesil grabbed his jaw.

"You keep your head and watch out for them." He pointed to Wynn and Vatz.

Chap offered an offended look and growled at the door.

Wynn suddenly dug in her robe pockets and pulled out a small crystal much like one from a cold lamp. She rubbed it furiously between her hands, and it began to glow.

"Keep that covered until I tell you otherwise," Leesil admonished.

Wynn nodded, closing the crystal tightly in both hands. The light muted to a dull orange glow between her fingers.

Leesil motioned to Magiere, and she slipped around to the door's far side, falchion in hand.

In close quarters, any target would be near enough that little aiming would be necessary. The crossbow was heavy, but Leesil could still point and squeeze the firing lever with one hand. He gripped it in his left and slipped his right punching blade out of its sheath.

There was no turning back now.

Magiere appeared composed, but he knew better. She was the dhampir and played the council with cavalier confidence and mystery for their benefit. But in reality, this was only the second time they'd hunted undeads. He slipped through the door ahead of her.

As expected, they entered a kitchen, everything neat, clean, and in place. Only a few items of cookware hung on the walls, and most looked old and untouched, having probably been left behind by a previous owner. An immaculate hearth free of ash or char was on the right with a line of rough cupboards to the left. In the room's center was a solid, thick-topped scullery table, yet there were no knives, cleavers, or preparation implements in its block or hanging from its side hooks. There were neither dishes nor food. No bread, no tea, not even a shriveled carrot.

The kitchen hadn't been used in a long while.

Leesil led them across to the far side doorway, Magiere close behind him. He stopped long enough to check the entry for anything suspicious and then pushed it open to scan the room for any movement or presence.

This was the dining chamber. Stone walls were hung with simple tapestries, and an oval cherrywood table and matching chairs filled the room. Two silver candelabra rested upon the table. The candles were all new, having never been lit. Pulled to the ceiling upon its chain was a chandelier, dripping with an array of cut crystals.

An earsplitting caw filled the dark room, and Leesil crouched low. He felt Magiere's hand clamp on his shoulder from behind as a tinkling sound pulled his attention upward.

A large raven hopped about the crystal chandelier, flexing its wings, and its black beady eyes stared at them. It cawed again, louder, and Chap growled.

"Ssh," Leesil warned the hound. He had to quiet the bird quickly.

A snap and twang came from behind Leesil, and the crystals in the chandelier jangled loudly. The raven dropped with a hollow thump in the middle of the table, impaled through the body with a quarrel.

Leesil looked back over his shoulder.

Vatz's crossbow was empty. The boy shrugged. "It was loud."

"Reload," Leesil whispered back, and rose from his crouch.

At the room's far end was an open archway, and he stepped around the table toward it.

Another low growl filled the room, but before Leesil turned to admonish Chap again, two glittering eyes came into view around the side of the entrance.

A gray wolf as tall as Chap stood in their path, a low rumble issuing from its throat.

Chap leaped to the tabletop beside Leesil, knocking both candelabra to the floor in a clatter. He answered the wolf with a snarl of his own, jowls back to expose flexing jaws.

Before Leesil could fire, Chap lunged off the table, and the wolf launched himself forward. They slammed together, knocking the end chair over, as the room filled with sounds of snarls and snapping teeth.

Leesil shifted back in panic. So much for the element of surprise.

Chane lay fully clothed upon his bed in the cellar's back room, listening for any sound. Though he heard nothing, his nerves were tightly alert.

Someone was in the house.

His consciousness slipped upward through the building until it touched avian thoughts somewhere upon the main floor.

At first the perspective was disorienting. His raven, Tihko, looked downward from a height, its vision partially obscured by tiny reflections of light in the dark dining chamber. Yes, Chane made out the table clearly now. Tihko was in the chandelier, crystals blocking parts of the room, but why were those crystals sparking softly with light? Twinkling reflections began to move.

Dim light spread from one side of the room where the half-elf stood.

It was the first time Chane had truly seen this man. Hair hidden beneath a dark scarf, he was of average height. Surprising, considering his mixed blood, as most elves were taller than humans. Now armored in a leather hauberk, he carried in one hand a loaded crossbow, and the other gripped a strange, wide-pointed blade extending from his fist, the outside edge arching back along his arm.