Chapter I

'Roong./

The lute string snapped, whipping across Kevin's

hand. He yelped, just barely managing not to drop the

lute. Instead, he placed the instrument gendy down on

his cot, then brought his stinging hand to his mouth.

Blast it all, that had Aurt! Of course it had. He knew bet-

ter by now than to try tightening a string too far. After

all, he'd been a bardling, an apprentice Bard, for what

seemed like all his nearly sixteen years.

The welt finally stopped smarting. Kevin got to his

feet with an impatient sigh. He didn't really mind prac-

ticing; it was something every musician had to do every

day, even his Master. He didn't even mind being stuck

in his cramped little room. Or at least he wouldn't mind

practicing and being cooped up in this stupid room in

this stupid inn if only he knew this was all leading

somewhere!

If something doesn't happen soon, something exciting...

Picking his way across the piles of clothes and music

scrolls uttering the floor, the bardling stared out the

one window, down to the Blue Swan's cobblestone

courtyard. A merchant was climbing onto his fine bay

horse, his travelling robes rich purple in the

springtime sunlight. With him rode his bodyguard,

two men and a woman in plain leather armor, straight-

backed and alert as falcons, hands never straying too

far from the swords at their sides. Kevin sighed in envy.

They were probably nothing more heroic than com-

mon mercenaries, and the journey they were taking

2 Mercedes Lackey^'Josephs Sherman

was probably nothing more exciting than a ride to the

next town, but at least they were going- somewhere,

they were doing something! While he —

"Blast iti" the bardling swore under his breath.

He couldn't stand being stuck here a moment

longer. Clattering down the inn's wooden staircase,

Kevin hurried across the common room — empty at

this early hour — and headed out into the courtyard.

But then he stopped short on the cobblestones. What

was he hoping to see? The merchant and his party

were already out of sight, riding down the old North

Road that ran just outside the inn's gateway, and there

probably weren't going to be any more travellers today.

Discouraged, the bardling turned and went back

through the inn to the back entrance, stepping out into

town.

Ha. Some town.

Bracklin was litde more than a collection of a dozen

small, thatched-roof houses clustered behind the inn.

A neat, pretty, orderly place, one where nothing dif-

ferent had ever happened and nothing ever would.

And people here actually like it that -way!

Kevin leaned back against the inn's half-timbered

side, the wall chilly on his back, the sun warm on his

face. There had never been a day he could remember

when he hadn't dreamed of being a Bard, of singing

wonderful songs and travelling to wonderful places,

maybe even working the rare, powerful Bardic Magic,

healing people with his music or even banishing

demons. How could those dreams have turned into

something so unbearably dull7

"Morning, Kevin," a woman's cheerful voice called

from across the unpaved strcet-

The bardling started. "Uh, good morning, Ada."

"That's just like you bard-folk, always off in a world

all your own."

Ada was a round, chubby, middle-aged hen of a

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 3

woman. Right now her brown hair was tucked up out of

her way in an unddy bun, and the sleeves other plain

white blouse were pushed back above the elbows as she

filled a washtub full of soapy water. "Come for Master

Aidan's clothes, have you? Told you they couldn't be

ready till this afternoon. Had to spend all day yesterday

washing the travel dust off the robes of His Nibs." Ada's

jerk of the head took in the departed merchant and his

party. "Eh, won't bad-mouth die fellow; paid me down to

the last coin, with extra added." Her bright black eyes

studied Kevin. "What's with you, lad?"

-Nothing."

"Oh, don't give me 'nothing.' What is it?"

Kevin sighed. "Ada, you remember when I first came

here."

The woman smiled warmly. "Don't I, though. You

were such a little boy, almost too small for the lute on

your back, clinging to your music teacher's hand and

all wide-eyed with wonder."

"Mistress Malen was very kind."

"Well, of course she was! Imagine after all the years

of having to teach merchants' kids without a drop of

talent to them coming across someone like you with the

true gift for music! No, no, don't start blushing like

that You know it's true."

Ada plopped a shirt into her washtub and started

scrubbing. "Look you, lad, before she left. Mistress

Malen told me all about you: how you were pluck-

ing at the strings of your family's old lute the minute

you were old enough to hold it, making up your

own litde tunes till they didn't have a choice but to

hire her."

Kevin had to smile. Mistress Malen had been a

wonderful first teacher, endlessly patient with her eager

pupil. She had also been honest enough to admit his

talent was more than she could shape. A litde shiver of

wonder raced through the bardling as he remembered

4 Mercedes Lackey 6f'Josephs Sherman

how she'd shaken her head and told him, "You have the

makings ofa Bard, boy, a true Bard."

Ada's chuckle dragged him back to the present. **So

there you were, poor chick, standing in the courtyard

of the Blue Swan, fall of wonder, yes, but maybe just a

touch scared, too. And no surprise, being apprenticed

to Master Aidan like that, a Bard—an^ a hero as well!"

Kevin glanced up at his Master's room. "You

remember how it was, don't you? When my Master

helped King Amber keep his throne, I mean.**

"Bless you, child, how old do you think I am? That

was a good thirty years ago! I was a chick myself back

then, much younger than you." She paused thought-

fully. "But I do remember all the celebrating. My, yes!

Everyone couldn't stop chattering about how it had

been a Bard, your Bard, who'd used his magical songs

o> stop that witch ofa would-be usurper."

"Princess Cariotta."

"Oh. she might have been a princess, the nasty tittle

creature, but she was a sorceress, all right, dark-

hearted as they come! She turned our good king into

stone — stone, can you imagine that! And if it hadn't

been for Master Aidan, stone. King Amber would have

remained. Bah! Good riddance to her, I say — and all

praise to Master Aidan for stopping her."

Kevin sighed. "That must have been a wonderful

time.... **

"Wonderful! Those were the most dangerous days

nobody ever wanted! And 1 don't blame your Master

for coming here after it was all over. If anyone ever

earned some peace and quiet, it was he!"

That wasn't what Kevin wanted to hear. At first every

day with his Master had seemed wild with excitement

After all, with a hero Bard to teach him, why shouldn't

he, too, do great deeds someday! But it hadn't taken

long to learn that his Master had, somewhere over the

years, forgotten all about heroism.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

"Ada, you've lived here in Bracklin all your life,

haven't you?"

"You know it. Never left this town. Never saw any

need toF

"But don't you ever want to meet new people?"

"I do! Enough travellers come into the inn for that.**

"That's not what I mean. Don't you ever get bored?

Want to see new places, do new things?"

Ada looked at him as though he'd gone mad. "Why

should I want something as foolish as that? I have a

nice house, good, steady work. Love you, lad, I think

the spring's gotten into you." She shooed him away

with soapy hands. "Now, get along with you, Kevin. I

have work to do."

The bardling wandered on down Bracklin's one street

to the end. It didn't take long. He stood looking out over

the fields beyond die edge of town, each neatly plowed

strip of land exactly like the next, and shuddered.

Making his way back towards the Blue Swan, Kevin

politely returned the greetings of baker and seamstress

and butcher. All of them, he realized, were quite

peacefully going about their various tasks just as they did

every day. And not a one of them seemed to mind! Sud-

denly frustrated to the point of screaming, Kevin hurried

back into the inn and his room. At least he could learn a

new song!

There wasn't a sound out of his Master's room. Of

course not The old Bard probably had his nose buried

in old manuscripts, just as he had whenever he wasn't

playing himself, or giving the bardling a music lesson

—just as he had for almost all the time Kevin had

studied with him.

/ know he's hunting/or something important. But he won't

tell me what it is! And while he hunts through all those dusty

books, I'm stuck here in Bracklin with him. Fm not a child

anymore! I can't be content Hke this!

The bardling snatched up his lute and struck a few

6 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Sherman

savage chords. But he couldn't play anything with that

broken string.

"Blast it all to Darkness!"

Kevin rummaged through the mess on floor and

table till he found a replacement string. This was

ridiculous? All Master Aidan had to do was say the

word, and King Amber would gladly name him the

royal bard. They could be living in the royal palace

right now.

And wouldn't that be grand? Kevin pictured his

Master in elegant Bardic robes, people bowing respect-

fully as he passed. He would be a major power in court-

And his brave young apprentice would be a figure of

importance too....

"Right," Kevin muttered. "And pigs could fly."

His Master had tremendous musical talent, no

doubt about that; every dme the old Bard took his own

well-worn mandolin and showed the boy how a song

should be played, a litde shiver of wonder ran through

Kevin, and with it a prayer: Ah, please, please, let me some-

day play Uke that, wrth such grace, such—such glory! Of late

he had begun to hope that his prayers, if not answered,

had at least begun to be heard. But even Ada insisted

Master Aidan was also an adept at Bardic Magic....

Idon't understand it! IfIhad such a gift, fdbeusmgit, not

—not fading it away m the middle of nowhere!

Oh yes, "if," Kevin thought darkly. It wasn't as

though every Bard had the innate gift for Bardic

Magic, after all. Master Aidan seemed to believe he pos-

sessed it, had assured Kevin over and over that in some

bardhngs the gift blossomed fairly late. But surely if he

was going to show any sign of magic, it would have sur-

faced by now. After all, he was nearly a man! Yet so far

he hadn't felt the slightest angle of Power no matter

how hard he'd tried. To him, the potentially magical

songs his Master had taught him remained just that:

songs.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 7

The bardling gave the lute an impatient strum, then

winced. Sour! Lute strings went out of pitch all too easily.

As he retimed them, Kevin admitted to himself that

yes, he did take a great deal of joy in creating music,

and in creating it well. But aside from that music, what

did he have? Of course it was true that a musician

seldom had time for much else; if he was to succeed at

all, a musician must give himself totally to his craft.

Kevin could accept that But did the rest of life have to

be so — drab? What did he do from day to day, really,

but run his Master's errands like a litde boy, keep all

those old manuscripts dusted, see the same dull town

and the same dull people?

/ might as well be apprenticed too — a baker!

"Kevin," a weary voice called from across the hall, and

thebardlingstraightened, listening. "Come here, please."

"Yes, Master."

Now what? Maybe he was supposed to order their

supper from the innkeeper? Or go find out from Ada

exactly when their wash would be done?

But when the bardling saw the old Bard's pale face,

his impatience slipped away, replaced by a pang of

worry. He had never known the Master as anything

but a white-bearded old man, but surely he'd never

seen him look quite this tired. Quite this... fragile.

It's because he never goes out, Kevin tried to persuade

himself. Never even gets any sunlight, cooped up in here •unth

his books. "Master? Is — is something wrong?"

"No, Kevin. Not exactly."

But a hint of fire flickered in the man's weary blue eyes,

and Kevin tensed, all at once so wild with hope he nearly

cheered. "You've found what you were looking for!"

"Alas, no."

"Then ... what is it? Are we going somewhere?" Oh

Rtease, ohplease, say yes!

"We? No. boy. You."

Kevin felt his heart thunder in his chest. Yes! At last

8 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

something new was going to happen! "You w-won't

regret this!" he stammered. "Just tell me what the quest

is, and I—"

The old Bard chuckled faintly. "I'm afraid it isn't a

quest, my fine young hero. More of an errand. A

longer one than usual, and further away than most,

but an errand never the less."

"Oh." Kevin struggled to keep the disappointment

from his face. I should have known better. Just another stupid

errand.

"What I want you to do," the Bard continued, "is go

to the casde of Count Volmar — "

"And deliver a message from the King?" At least that

would be something halfway dramatic!

"And copy a manuscript for me," his Master cor-

rected, looking down his long nose at the bardling.

"You're to copy it — copy it exactly, understand — and

bring the copy back to me."

Kevin barely silenced a groan. "Is it very long?"

"I believe so."

And it was probably unbearably dull, too. "But,

Master," Kevin asked desperately, "why don't you just

ask them to send the manuscript to you?"

"No! It's too valuable to be moved."

Naturally. "If you want it copied exactly," the

bardling said as casually as he could, "why not hire a

trained scribe — "

"No!" For a startling moment, the Bard's face was so

fierce Kevin could almost believe the heroic tales- But

then the fierceness faded, leaving only a weary old man

behind. "I have given you your orders. The

manuscript you are to copy is known as The Stvdy of

Ancient Song. It is approximately three hands high and

one and a half hands wide, and is bound in plain, dark

brown leather that, I imagine, must be fairly well worn

by now. The title may or may not be embossed on the

spine, but it should be printed clearly enough on the

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 9

cover." He paused- "In brief: the manuscript cannot be

moved from the count's library. And only you are to

copy it. Each day's work must be hidden. It must not be

shown to anyone. Is that understood?"

Kevin frowned. Had the old Bard's mind turned?

Or, more likely, was he simply trying to enliven a dull

job for his apprentice with a touch of the dramatic?

The bardling bowed in resignation. "Yes, Master," he

muttered.

"Good. Now, here's a letter of introduction to the

count from me. He should recognize my seaL Be sure

you keep it safe in your belt pouch; nobles are suspi-

cious sorts, and unless they know you're really from

me, you'll never get past the casde gates."

Kevin obediently stuffed the parchment into his

pouch. Ah well, he'd try to make the most of this. At

least it meant getting out of this dull old inn for a few

days. Yes, and he would be staying in a castle. Hey now,

maybe even rubbing elbows with the nobility!

The bardling fought down a sudden grin, imagining

himself at court, impressing somebody important,

maybe even the count himself, with his talent. Who

knew? If he was really lucky, he might get a chance to

really prove himself. He might even end up being

named a true Bard!

Oh, right If he didn't wind up spending all his time

stuck in the count's library.

"Kevin? Kevin! Listen to me, boy," his Master fussed.

**You must hurry. I have a way to get you to the count

safely—friends are coming through—but time is short

Can't have a lad your age travelling all by himself."

The bardling straightened, insulted. "Your pardon,

Master, but I'm not a baby. I'll be all right, don't worry.**

"It's notyou I'm worried about, boy. It's what you

might meet along the way. You're a bardling, not a

trained warrior."

"I can handle a sword!"

10 Mercedes Lackey S^Josepha Sherman

"But you won't," the Bard ordered bluntly. "A

musician doesn't dare risk injuring his hands."

"Well, yes, of course, but— "

"I repeat, you are not a trained warrior. If someone

attacked you, you wouldn't stand a chance of defend-

ing yourself."

"I'm nearly sixteen!" Kevin began body. "I can take

care of myself!"

But the Bard was no longer listening to him. Head

cocked, the old man murmured, "Well now, do you

hear that?"

"Singing?" the bardling said in surprise. Who in that

quiet town would suddenly be frivolous enough to

burst into song? And raucous song at that!

"I wonder," the Bard murmured to himself. "Can it

be... so soon?"

He moved slowly to the window. Kevin followed,

looking over the man's shoulder at a laughing group of

folks on horseback clattering into the courtyard, sur-

rounding two gaudy red and blue wagons. The riders'

cloaks and tunics fluttered in the wind, their many

colors so bright he could have sworn they were cut

from scraps of rainbows. The man who seemed to be

the leader, driving the first wagon, wore a robe that edit-'

tiered like the sun itself.

"It^sjust a troop of minstrels," Kevin began, but his

Master was already calling out the window: "Berak!"

The leader glanced up, his sharp-featured, green-

eyed face suddenly alert. "So it was your Summons, old

man!" he yelled back. "You're still alive and kicking, I

see!"

Kevin gasped, but his Master only laughed. "And

you're still the same disrespectful soul as ever! Come

up here, if you would."

Berak brought his whole troop with him, twenty

men and women and their offspring, all with sharp,

suntanned faces and bright, wild eyes. Chattering and

CATTLE OF DECEPTION 11

laughing, they filled the small room almost to overflow,

their gaudy clothing making it look even shabbier than

it was.

Berak held up a hand for silence, "What would you,

old Bard?" he asked, making the man a fantastic bow.

The Bard didn't seem at all disturbed by the curious

stares. "A favor, Berak, if you would. My apprentice here,

young Kevin, needs to travel to Count Volmar's castle— "

"A far way for such a child," a woman murmured,

and Kevin gave her an indignant glare.

"Exactly," his Master said. "I doubt you restless but-

terflies will be staying here longer than one night."

"NotinAis dull town!"

"Then since your route seems to be taking you along

the North Road anyhow, if you might happen to see

your way to the count's castle, and take Kevin with you

when you go... ?"

For a moment, the Bard's eyes met Berak's fierce

green gaze.

Almost, Kevin thought in sudden confusion, as though

they're exchanging secret information.

But in the next moment Berak laughed and bowed

another of his intricate bows, and Kevin told himself

not to be ridiculous. The man was nothing more than a

common minstrel.

"Of course, old man," Berak said. "Kevin, bardling,

we leave at sunrise tomorrow!"

Whether I like it or not. the boy thought drily.

That night, the troop of minstrels sang for their sup-

per, standing to one side of the open fireplace, the

gaudy colors of their dothing turned muted and glow-

ing by the flickering firelight. Kevin listened to their

music for a long time, trying to figure out exactly what

they were doing. No two singers seemed to be follow-

ing the same tune, and the two harpers, three fiddlers

and one flutist all seemed to be playing their own

12 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sfierman

melodies as well. And yet somehow all that wild sound

managed to blend into one whole, intricate song. He

couldn't say whether or not it was a beautiful song, he

couldn't even say whether or not he liked it, but the

bardling had to admit it certainly was interestingr

The innkeeper and his wife didn't seem to know

what to make of the music, either, nor did their guests.

When the troop had finished, there was a fair amount

of applause, and everyone agreed they had earned

their dinners, but Kevin suspected from their uncer-

tain glances that the rest of the audience was as

confused as he.

"How did you like it?" The old Bard had appeared

so suddenly at Kevin's shoulder that the bardling had

tobitebackayell-

Tm not sure... I mean, it was music, all right, not

just sound, but... well... it was wild. Like something

the forest would sing, if trees could only — I mean —

I'm sounding stupid, aren't I?"

His Master chuckled. "No. Not at all. You sound like

a youngster who's suddenly realized that the world's a

good deal wider, with a good deal more strangeness in

it, than he ever suspected." He patted Kevin's

shoulder. "Come along, bardling. The night's growing

late, and you must be up eariy in the morning."

Kevin stood in the courtyard of the inn, dad in good,

serviceable tunic, breeches and boots, the whole thing

covered by a woollen doak, its warmth welcome in the

chilly morning air. His lute was in its waterproof

travelling case, slung across his back, because no Bard,

not even a bardling, ever travelled without his instru-

ment.

All around the bardling, the minstrels were chatter-

ing and scuttling about, somehow never getting in each

other's way, reloading their wagons, scooping up gig-

gling children, tightening a saddle girth here,

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 13

readjusting a pack there. But Kevin didn't really notice

all the bustle. He was too busy staring at the animal

placidly looking back at him. His heart sank.

A mule! The Master hadn't even trusted him with a

horse. An adventurer needed a stallion, a destrier, a

war horse — not a stupid old long-eared mule!

"Eh, bardling!" Berak called from his wagon seat.

"Mount up, boy! We have a long way to travel."

"My name is Kevin, not 'bardling,' " Kevin mut-

tered, but Berak didn't seem to hear him-

"That's a wise old mule, bardling. He'll carry you

safe and sound to Count Volmar's castle. If he doesn't

dedde to dump you in the mud instead!"

The minstrels all burst into laughter. His cheeks

flaming, Kevin made sure the saddle pack with his

spare dothes was secure, then climbed into the saddle.

As he did, the lute whacked him painfully across the

back. The mule wiggled a long ear back at him as

though it coo was laughing at him.

"If you bray at me, I'll whack you\" Kevin warned it,

but the mule only shook its head, ears flapping.

As the minstrels rode out of the inn's courtyard,

hoofs dopping and wagon wheels rattling against cob-

blestones, Kevin glanced up at his Master's window.

But if the old Bard was watching, the bardling couldn't

see him.

Feeling abandoned and very sorry for himself, Kevin

kicked the mule's sides to get it moving. The mule

rolled a reproachful eye back at him, but started

grudgingly forward.

"Hey-ho, off to adventure!" Berak laughed, and

burst into song.

Some adventure, Kevin thought bitterly.

Chapter II

As the minstrel troop rode and rattled along the wide

dirt road, the day was as bright and cheery as something

out of a story, full ofbird song and pleasant Htde breezes.

Kevin hardly noticed. He was too busy struggling

with his mule to keep it from lagging lazily behind.

"Here, boy." One of the musicians, a red-dad fiddler

with instrument case strapped to his back like Kevin,

handed the bardling a switch broken from a bush.

"Wave this at him. He'll keep moving."

The fiddler's eyes were kind enough, but it seemed

to Kevin that his voice practically dripped with conde-

scension. Tkmfss Fve never ridden be/ors, Kevin thought,

but he managed a tight smile and a "Thanks." It didn't

help that the man was right; as long as the mule could

see the switch out of the comer of an eye, it kept up a

nice, brisk pace.

The North Road cut through brushland for a time,

then through stands of saplings, then at last through

true forest, green and lush in the springtime. This was

royal land, not ceded to any of the nobles, and the road

was kept clear, Kevin knew, by the spells of royal

magicians. But those nice, neat spells hardly applied to

the wildness on either side. The bardling, trying to

pretend he'd travelled this way a hundred times,

couldn't help wondering if bandits or even dark crea-

tures, ores or worse, were hiding in there.

Oh, nonsense! He was letting his Master's fussing

get to him. It was forest, only forest. No one could see

anything sinister in that tranquil greenery.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 15

He'd let the switch drop and the mule was lagging

again. Kevin waved it at the beast yet again- When that

didn't seem to do any good, he gave it a good whack on

the rump. The mule grunted in surprise and broke

into a bone-jarring trot, overtaking the wagons and

most of the riders. The equally surprised bardling

jounced painfully in the saddle, lute banging against

his back. For a moment Kevin wished he'd kept it in its

case rather than out for quick playing. Struggling to

keep his stirrups and his balance, he was sure he heard

snickers from the troop.

Then, just as suddenly, the mule dropped back into

its easygoing walk. Kevin nearly slammed his face into

the animal's neck. This time, as he straightened himself

in the saddle, he knew he'd heard muffled laughter.

Without a word, he pulled the mule back into the

troop.

Although the minstrels kept up a steady patter of

cheerful conversation and song all around him, Kevin

damped his lips resolutely together after that. He had

given them enough entertainment already!

It wasn't helping his increasingly sour mood that

every time someone looked his way, he could practical-

ly hear that someone thinking. Poor little boy, out on his

own!

*Tmno( a baby!" he muttered under his breath.

"What's that?" A plump, motherly woman, bright

yellow robes making her look like a buttercup, brought

her mare up next to his mule. "Is something wrong,

chfld?"

**I am not a child." Kevin said the words very careful-

ly. "I am not a full Bard yet, I admit it, but I am the

apprentice to — "

"Oh, well, bardling, then!" Her smile was so amused

that Kevin wanted to shout at her. Leave me alone!

Instead, he asked, as levelly as he could:

"|ust how far away is Count Volmar's castle?"

16 Mercedes Lackey S^Josepha Skerman

"Oh, two days' ride or so, weather permitting, not

more."

"And we're going to stay on this road?"

"Well, of course! We can hardly go cross-country

through the woods with the wagon! Besides, that

would be a silly thing to do: the North Road leads right

to the castle. Very convenient."

"Very," Kevin agreed, mind busy. He hadn't dared

hope that the casde would be so easy to find, even far

someone who'd never been there before. Even for

someone who just might happen to be travelling alone.

That night, the minstrels made camp in a drde of

song and firelight that forced back the forest's shadow.

Dinner had been cheese and only slighdy stale bread

from the inn, water from a nearby stream, and rabbits

the older children had brought down with their slings.

Now Kevin, sitting on a dead log to one side, nearly in

darkness, watched the happy, noisy circle with a touch

of envy. What must it be like to be part of a group like

that? They were probably all related, one big, wild,

merry family.

But then the bardling reminded himself that these

were only minstrels, wandering folk whose musical

talents just weren't good enough to let them ever be

Bards. He should be pitying them, not envying them.

Maybe they even envied him... ?

No. Two of the women were gossiping about him, he

was sure of it, glancing his way every now and then,

hiding giggles behind their hands. Kevin straightened.

trying to turn his face into a regal mask. Unfortunately,

the log on which he sat picked that moment to fall

apart, dumping him on the ground in a cloud of moiety

dust,

Predictably, every one of the troop was looking his

way just then. Predictably, they all burst into laughter

Kevin scrambled to his feet, face burning. He'd had it

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 17

with being babied and laughed at and made to feel a

fool!

"Hey, bardling!" Berak called. "Where are you

going?"

"To sleep," Kevin said shortly.

"Out there in the dark? You'll be warmer — and

safer — here with us."

Kevin pretended he hadn't heard. Wrapping himself

in his cloak, he settled down as best he could. The ground

was harder and far colder than he'd expected. He really

would have been more comfortable with the minstrels.

But then, he didn't really intend to sleep .. . not

really.... It was just that he was weary from the day's

riding....

Kevin woke with a start, almost too cold and stiff to

move. What — where — AH around him was forest, sdll

dark with night, but overhead he could see patches of

pale, blue-gray sky through the canopy of leaves and

realized it wasn't too far from morning. He struggled to

his feet, jogging in place to warm himself up, wincing

as his body complained, then picked up his lute. Safe

and dry in its case, it hadn't suffered any harm.

Stop stalling! he told himself,

Any moment now, one of the minstrels was bound to

wake up, and then it would be too late. Kevin ducked

behind a tree to answer his chilly body's demands, then

tiptoed over to where the horses and his mule were

tied. One horse whuffled at him, but to his relief, none

of them whinnied. Although his hands were sdll stiff

with cold, the bardling managed to get his mule bridled

and saddled. He hesitated an uncertain moment, look-

ing back at the sleeping camp, wondering if he really

was doing the right thing.

Of course I am! I don't want the count to think I'm a baby

who can't take care of himself.

Kevin led the mule as silently as he could down the

18 Af encodes Lackey ^Josepba Shennan

road till the camp was out of sight, then swung up into

the saddle.

"Come on, mule," he whispered. "We have a lot of

ground to cover."

The minstrels would be discovering his absence any

moment now. But, encumbered with their wagons and

children as they were, they would never be able to

overtake him. Kevin kicked the mule; frisky from the

still chilly air, it actually broke into a prance. The bard-

ling straightened proudly in the saddle.

At last! He finally felt like a hero riding off into

adventure.

By nightfall, Kevin wasn't so sure of that. He was

tired and sore from being in the saddle all day, and

hungry as well. If only he had thought to take some

food with him! The mule wasn't too happy with its

snatches of grass and leaves, but at least it could

manage, but the few mouthfuls of whatever berries

Kevin had been able to recognize hadn't done much to

fill his stomach.

Overhead, the sky was still clear blue, but the forest

on either side was already nearly black, and a chill was

starting up from the cooling earth. Kevin shivered, lis-

tening to the twitter of birds settling down for the night

and the faint, mysterious rusdings and stirrings that

could have been made by small animals or... other

things. He shivered again, and told himself not to be

stupid. He was probably already on Count Volmar's

lands, and there wasn't going to be anything

dangerous this close to a casrie.

He hoped.

"We're not going to be able to go much further

today," he told the mule reluctantly. "We'd better find a

place to camp for the night."

At least he had flint and steel in his pouch. After

stumbling about in the dim light for a time, Kevin

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 19

managed to find enough dead branches to build him-

self a decent little fire in the middle of a small, rocky

clearing. The firelight danced off the surrounding

trees as the bardling sat huddling before the flames,

feeling the welcome warmth steal through him.

The fire took off the edge of his chill. But it couldn't

help the fact that he was still tired and so hungry his

stomach ached. The bardling tried to ignore his dis-

comfort by taking out his lute and working his way

through a series of practice scales.

As soon as he stopped, the nightflowed in around him,

Iris small fire not enough to hold back the darkness, the

tittle forest chirpings and rusdings not enough to break

the heavy silence. Kevin struck out bravely into the

bouncy strains of "The Miller's Boy." But the melody that

had sounded so bright and sprightly with the inn around

it seemed chin and lonely here. Kevin's fingers faltered,

then stopped. He sat listening to the night for a moment,

feeling the weight of the forest's indifference pressing

down on him. He roused himself with an effort and put

his lute back in its case, safe from the night's gathering

mist- Those nice, dull, safe days back at the inn didn't

seem quite so unattractive right now....

Oh, nonsense! What sort of hero are you, afraid of a little

hnelmess9

He'd never, Kevin realized, been alone before, really

alone, in his life. Battling with homesickness, the bard-

ling banked the fire and curled up once more in his

doak.

After what seemed an age, weariness overcame

misery, and he slipped into uneasy sleep,

Scornful laughter woke him. Kevin sat bolt upright,

staring up into eyes that glowed an eerie green in the

darkness. Demons!

No, no, whatever these beings were, they weren't

demonic. After that first terrified moment, he could

make out the faces that belonged with those eyes, and

20 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Sherman

gasped in wonder. The folk surrounding him were tafl

and graceful, a touch too graceful, too slender, to be

human. Pale golden hair framed fair, fine-boned,

coldly beautiful faces set with those glowing, slanted

eyes, and Kevin whispered in wonder:

"Elves..."

He had heard about them of course, everyone had.

They were even supposed to share some of King

Amber's lands with humans — though every now and

then bitter feelings surfaced between the two races. But

Kevin had never seen any of the elf-folk. White or

Dark, good or evil, never even dreamed he might.

"Why, how dever the child is!" The elvish voice was

dear as crystal, cold with mockery.

"Clever in one way, at least!" said another.

"So stupid in all other ways!" a third mocked. "Look

at the way he sleeps on the ground, like a poor litde

animal."

"Look at the trail he left, so that anyone, anything

could track him."

"Look at the way he sleeps like a babe, without a care

in the world."

"A human child."

"A careless child!"

The elf man who*d first spoken laughed sofdy. "A

foolish child that anyone can trick!"

So alien a light glinted in the slanted eyes that

Kevin's breath caught in his throat. Everyone knew

elvish whims were unpredictable; it was one of the

reasons there could never be total ease between elf and

human. If these folk decided to loose their magic on

him, he wouldn't have a chance of defending himself.

"My lords," he began, very, very carefully, "if I have

somehow offended you, pray forgive me."

"Offended!" the elf echoed coldly. "As ifanythinga

child such as you could do would be strong enough to

offend us!"

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 21

That stung. "My lord, I — I know I may not look like

much to someone like you." To his intense mortifica-

tion, his empty stomach chose that moment to

complain with a loud gurgle. Kevin bit his tip, sure that

those keen, pointed elf ears had picked up the sound.

AH he could do was continue as best he could, "But —

but that doesn*t give you the right to insult me.**

**0h, how brave it is!" The elf man rested one foot

lightly on a rock and leaned forward, fierce green gaze

flicking over Kevin head to foot "Bah, look at yourselfl

Sleeping on bare ground when there are soft pine

boughs to make you a bed. Aching with hunger when

the forest holds more than enough to feed one scrawny

human. Leaving a trail anyone could follow and carry-

ing no useful weapon at all. How could we not insult

such ignorance?"

The elf straightened, murmuring a short phrase in

the elvish tongue to the others. They laughed and

faded soundlessly into the night, but not before one of

them had tossed a small sack at Kevin's feet.

"Our gift, human," the elf man said. "Inside is food

enough to keep you alive. And no, it is not bespelled.

We would not waste magic on you."

With that, the elf turned to leave, then paused, look-

ing back over his shoulder at the bardling. With

inhuman bluntness, he said, "I hope, child, for your

sake that you are simply naive and not stupid. In dme,

either flaw will get you killed, but at least the first can be

corrected."

The alien eyes blazed into Kevin's own for a moment

longer. Then the elf was gone, and the bardling was left

alone in the night, more frightened than he would ever

have admitted.

He's wrong! Kevin told himself defiantly once his

heart had stopped radng./urt because Fm a bardling, not

a, — Q, woodsman who's never known anything but the forest

doesn't make me nawe or stupid!

22 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Shenmn

Deciding that didn't stop him from rummaging in

the little sack. The elvish idea of food that would keep

him alive seemed to be nothing more exciting than flat

wafers of bread. But when he managed to choke one of

the dry things down, it calmed his complaining

stomach so nicely that the bardling sighed with relief

and actually slipped back into sleep.

Kevin stood with head craned back, sunlight warm

on his face, feeling the last of last night's fears melting

away. How could he possibly hold onto fear when it was

bright, dear morning and all around him the air was

filled with bird song?

Maybe the whole thing had been only a dream?

No. The sack of wafers was quite real. Kevin gnawed

thoughtfully on one, then gave another to his mule,

which lipped it up with apparent delight. He saddled

and bridled the animal, then climbed aboard, still

trying to figure out what the purpose of that midnight

meeting had been.

A. last he shook his head in dismissal. All the stories said

the elf folk, being the nonhuman race they were, had truly

bizarre senses of humor, sometimes outright cruel by

human standards. What had happened last night must

surely have beenjust another nasty elvishidea ofajoke.

"Come on, mule. Let's get going." At least he wasn't

hungry.

The road sloped up, first gently then more steeply,

much to the mule's distaste. When it grew too steep,

Kevin dismounted now and again to give the animal a

rest, climbing beside it.

But at last, after a quiet day of riding and walking, they

reached the crest. Kevin stared out in awe at a wild

mountain range of tall gray crags, some of them high

enough to be snowcapped even in spring. They towered

over rolling green fields neatly sectioned into farms. On

the nearest crag, surrounded by open space stood:

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 23

"Count Volmar's castle!" Kevin cried triumphantly.

"It has to be!"

The casde hadn't been built for beauty. Heavy and

squat, it seemed to crouch possessively on its crag like

some ancient grey beast of war staring down at the

count's lands. But Kevin didn't care. It was the first

casde he had ever seen, and he thought it was wonder-

ful, a true war casde dating from the days when heroes

held back the forces of Darkness. Bright banners flew

from the many towers, softening some of the harsh-

ness, and the bardling could see from here that the

castle's gates were open. By squinting he could make

out the devices on those banners: the count's black

boar on an azure field.

"We've done it," he told the mule. "That is definitely

the casde of Count Volmar."

He forgot about elves and hunger, loneliness and

mocking minstrels. Excitement shivering through him,

the bardling kicked his mule forward. Soon, soon, the

real adventure was going to begin!

Chapter III

The closer Kevin got to Count Volmar's castle, the

more impressive it seemed, looming up over him till he

had to crane his head back to see the tops of the towers.

The North Road ran right past the base of the crag, but

the count's own road led its winding way up and up to

the castle gates. Just when the bardling had almost

reached the top (riding all the way this time, in case

someone in the castle was watching him), the mule

stopped short, long ears shooting up. In the next

moment, two knights in gleaming mail, faces hidden by

their helms, came plunging skillfully down the steep

road on their powerful destriers, trailed by two

younger, more cautious, riders — squires, Kevin

guessed — on smaller horses.

"Get out of the way, boy!" they shouted.

Kevin hastily kneed his mule aside. With a shout of

"Peasant fool!" the riders were past him, showering

him with dirt and pebbles, and gone.

"Peasant fool, is it?" Kevin muttered, brushing him-

self off. "At least I know better than to force a horse

down a steep hill at full speed!"

The bardling glanced down at himself. He had saved

his best tunic and breeches for now; the neat red tunic

and brown breeches and cloak might not be of the most

noble quality, but they were, he thought, quite suitable.

Definitely not what a peasant would wear. Not even a

rich one who owned his farm; the doth might in such a

case be finer, but there was such a thing as style and

taste.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 25

Feeling better about the whole thing, Kevin prodded

his mule up the last few feet to the open gates, huge,

heavy brass-sheathed things —

Which were slowly shut in his face.

"Hey!" he yelled indignandy.

"Servants use the postern gate," an officious voice

called down from one of the narrow tower windows.

"But I'm not—"

"Use the postern gate," the voice repeated.

Kevin sighed. He was hardly about to shout out his

business here for everyone to hear. Tfas is just someone's

imstak^ he told himself. They'll correct it once Tm inside.

He rode around the massive base of the castle to the

humble little servants* entrance, which was sealed by a

heavy, brass-bound oaken door. Standing in the stirrups,

Kevin gave it a solid rap with his fist, then, when that got

no results, managed a more satisfying thump with a foot

"Hey! Anybody in there?"

A tiny window creaked open high in the door. "State

your business," a voice demanded. This one, Kevin

thought, sounded more bored than officious,

"My business," he said firmly, "is with Count Volmar.

I have a message here from my Master."

The bardling drew out the sealed parchment the old

Bard had given him and held it up so whoever was

behind die door could see it There was a long moment

of silence. Then Kevin heard the sound of a heavy bolt

being drawn. The door creaked open.

"Enter."

"At lasti" the bardling muttered, and kicked his mule

through the doorway.

As he'd expected, he was faced by a long stone tun-

nel; the outer walls of a war castle could hardly be

anything but thick!

FU never get the nude in there.

But the animal, after a brief hesitation about enter-

ing this narrow, shadowy cave, sniffed the air and

26 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepfw Sherman

moved eagerly forward, so eagerly Kevin suspected it

must have smelled oats.

As they came out from the tunnel, the bardling

Found himself in what looked almost like a small town,

tucked into the outer ward, the space between the ring

of the outer walls and the inner walls of the count's

keep. To one side was the casde stables, and the mule

did its best to get Kevin to let it head off that way. But

the bardling kept a dght hold on the reins, trying to see

everything without making it look like he was gawking.

Sonumy people!

He'd never seen so many crowded into so small a

space, not even on market day. Here was the blacksmith's

forge, the smith hard at work shoeing a restless gray

destrier, calmly avoiding the war horse's attempts to bite;

there, the carpenter's workshop echoed with hammer-

ing; and next to that, the armorer sat in the sunlight

before his shop, mending the links in a mail shirt. A

tangled crowd of casde folk chattered away as they did

their tasks, while their children ran squealing and laugh-

ing all around the ward. Maybe the whole place did smell

a hit too strongly of horse and dung and humanity, but it

was still such a lively place that it took Kevin's breath

away. He drank it all in, only to come back to himself with

a shock when someone asked shortly:

"Name and business?"

Kevin glanced down to see a guard watching him

warily. Mail glinted under a surcoat embroidered with

the count's crest, and the weather-worn face held not a

trace of warmth.

"Uh, yes. My — my name is Kevin, I'm a bardling,

and my Master has sent me here with a message for

Count Volmar."

He showed the guard the sealed parchment. To his

dismay, the man snatched it from his hand. "Heyi"

"Leave your mule with the stablehands. Your bags

wifl be brought to you —Am!"

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 27

A small boy, a page clad in the count's blue livery,

came running. "Sir?"

"Take this bardling to the squires' quarters."

"But my message!" Kevin protested-

"It will be given to Count Volmar." The guard's con-

temptuous stare said without words, Did you really

think a mere bardling would be allowed to bother a

count? "Go get your mule stabled."

With that, the man turned and disappeared into the

keep. Kevin hesitated, toying with the idea of hurrying

after the guard and insisting he be admitted to the

oowxt-atoncel

Oh no. Not only would something like that destroy

what little was left of his dignity, it would probably get

him thrown out of the casde!

Kevin's shoulders sagged. So much for being able to

rub elbows with nobility!

"I'm supposed to wait hereV

"That's what I was told," little Am answered. "In the

squires' quarters."

"But here?" the bardling repeated. "There's nobody

—Am! Wait!"

The boy had already scurried away. Kevin, feeling

helpless, stood looking uneasily about. The squires'

quarters was nothing more than this long, dark, chilly

hall broken up by a row of cots and clothes chests. The

high roof was supported by thick columns, and the

only light came from narrow windows set high in the

walls. The silence was heavier than anything back in

the forest.

The bardling sat down on (he edge of one of the cots

to wait. And wait. And wait.

Kevin had just about decided he'd been abandoned,

and was wondering what would happen if he went

hunting for Count Volmar himself when he heard a

sudden rush of cheerful voices and sprang to his feet. A

28 Mercedes lackey f^Josepha Sherman

crowd of boys in their late teens came ambling into the

hall, all of them in blue livery.

These must surely be the missing squires. Kevin

watched them in sudden uneasiness, painfully aware

that his sedudcd musician's life hadn't given him many

chances to spend time with anyone his own age.

A stocky blond boy stopped short, staring at Kevin

with bright blue eyes. "Holla! Who*sthis?"

"My name is Kevin," the bardling began, "and I — "

"You've got a lute. You a minstrel?**

"No!"

"You seem kinda young to be a Bard."

The boy's voice was brusque, but a hint of respect

shone in his eyes. For a moment Kevin toyed with the

idea of claiming that yes, he was a Bard. But he could

picture his Master's disapproval only too well. A Bard,

after all, was always supposed to be truthful. With a

sigh. Kevin admitted:

"I'm not. Not yet. I'm apprenticed to a Bard, but — "

"Abardling," someone said in a scornful voice. "He's

nobody."

The squires turned away. Blatantly ignoring him,

they set about changing their clothes or cleaning then-

boots, chattering and joking as though he wasn't even

there.

"Did you see me in the didng yard?"

"Sure did. Saw you fall off, too!"

"The saddle slipped!"

"S-u-r-e it did! Uke this!"

He pounced on the other boy and they wrestled,

laughing. Watching them, totally excluded, Kevin

ached with a loneliness more painful even than what

he'd felt in the forest. As the horseplay broke off, he

heard the squires argue over which of them was most

skilled with sword or lance, or who would be the first to

be knighted. A great surge of resentment swelled up

within him.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 29

Listen to them boast! I bet there isn't one of them who knows

anything but weaponry and fighting, the empty-headed idiots.

But as the squires began to boast instead about the

exploits of the knights they served, ofSirAlamar who'd

taken on an enure bandit band and bested them, or Sir

Theomard, who might be aging but who had sdll

managed to slay three enemy knights in battle, one

right after the other, Kevin's heart sank. These boys

who were his own age had already done more than

he'd even imagined. As squires to their knights, they

had almost certainly shared in those mighty deeds.

They would probably soon be heroes themselves.

Kevin bit his lip as resentment turned to envy. No

wonder the squires scorned him! Here he was, a bard-

ling, a mere music apprentice, someone who hadn't

done anythmg\ He must seem like a weakling to them, a

coward, no better than a peasant.

Asmall hand shook his sleeve and he started. "Bard-

ling?" It was little Arn. "Follow me, if you would.

Master D'Krikas, Count Volmar's seneschal, wishes to

speak with you."

D'Krikas? What an odd name!

Who cares how odd it is! At least I haven't been forgotten.

The bardling followed Am through a maze of cor-

ridors, across the rush-strewn stretch of the Great Hall,

and up a winding stairway, stopping before a dosed door.

"Here we are," Am said, and scurried away once more.

Kevin took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Enter!" a scratchy voice commanded.

Within was a cozy room, hung with thick hangings of

deep red velvet and furnished with a scroll-filled book-

case and a massive desk, behind which sat a truly

bizarre figure. Although it sat upright and had the

right number of arms and head, it most definitely was

not human. Kevin stared at the shiny, chitinous green

skin, set off by a glittering golden gorget, and the large,

segmented eyes and gasped out:

30 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

"You're an Arachnia!"

"The boy is a marvel of cleverness," the insectoid

being chittered. "If he has satisfied his curiosity?**

"Oh, uh, of course- I'm sorry, I — I didn't mean to

stare."

"Why not? You have plainly never seen one of my

kind before. Why should you not stare?"

"I..."

Kevin blinked. The Arachnia had snatched what

looked like a handful of sugar cubes from a small bovd

on the desk and popped them into its beaked mouth.

The crunching sound reminded him uncomfortably of

praying mandses devouring beetles. In fact, now that

he thought of it, the being did look a good deal like a

giant mantis....

"Now you wonder anew." The dry chitter might

have been a laugh. "Have you never heard that my

kind are always hungry? For logic as well as food. Boy,

dme is a precious thing, and we have already wasted

enough of it. I am, as I am sure you have already real-

ized, D'Krikas, seneschal, major-domo if you wish, to

Count Volmar."

"My lord." Belatedly, Kevin bowed, but D'Krikas,

writing busily in a huge open ledger, hardly seemed to

notice.

"Here are the arrangements that have been made

for you. Yes, yes, I know why you are here. You are to

be housed and fed with the squires, and you will be

permitted to copy the manuscript in the library

between dawn and dusk. You are not to intrude upon

the count's private quarters. You are not to bother any

of the knights. You are not to interfere with any of the

castle personnel. You are not to handle any weapons.

You arc not to enter the tilting grounds. You are not to

interfere with any of the servants. You are not to steal

food from the kitchen..."

As the list of prohibitions went on and on. Kevin

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 31

thought wryly he could almost wish he was back with

his Master — at least there'd been fewer rules!

/ can't stand this place! he decided suddenly. The sooner

I finish the stupid job, the better.

"Master D'Krikas," Kevin asked as soon as the being

fell silent, "is there any reason I can't continue my

copying after dark? I mean," he added cajolingly, "it

would save predous rime."

"No, no, no!" the seneschal snapped. "Have you no

idea of how expensive candles are? Have you? No!

Burning candles so a human can do some copy work

would be a waste of good wax." D'Krikas stood, gray

cloak swirling, tall, thin body towering over Kevin.

"And no one your age, boy, can be trusted with open

flame around so many fragile manuscripts!"

The seneschal folded himself back behind the desk.

Once more writing in the huge ledger, D'Krikas said

curdy, "That is all. You may leave."

Kevin hardly wanted to return to the squires*

quarters. But where else was there? By now, it was too

late to start copying the manuscript. And after

D'Krikas' never-ending list of prohibitions, he hardly

dared go exploring! Since Am didn't seem to be

anywhere around, Kevin retraced his steps as best he

could, and didn't get lost more than once or twice.

Dinner, he suspected, wasn't going to be any brighter

than anything else that had happened this day.

It wasn't. Dinner was a miserable affair served on

rough trestle tables set up in the squires* quarters.

Even though the bardling had been assigned a seat

among the squires, he'd might as well have been in the

middle of a desert, because no one would talk to him.

Kevin busied himself in trying to chew the stringy beef,

and in trying to convince himself the squires* coldness

didn't matter; as soon as he'd finished copying that

cursed manuscript, he would never have to see any of

these idiots again.

32 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

Once they had finished eating-and the food scraps

and trestle tables had been cleared away, the squires

disappeared, still without a word to Kevin. He

gathered, from the bits of their conversations he over-

heard, that they were going off to wait on their knights.

Who areprobably just as brainless.

Left alone in the now empty hall, the bardling

shivered, grabbing for his cloak. The place seemed

even more silent than before, and twice as chilly. Evi-

dently Count Volmar didn't believe in pampering

youngsters, because there wasn't a fireplace anywhere

in the hall.

Never •mind, Kevin told himself. A true hero doesn't nand

a Uttle discomfort.

Or a litde loneliness.

The silence was getting on his nerves. The bardling

took out his lute and practiced for a long, long while,

trying to ignore everything but his music. At last,

warmed a litde by his own exertions, Kevin put die in-

strument back in its case and stretched out on the

lumpy cot he'd been assigned. The hour, he thought,

was probably still fairly early — not that there was any

way to tell in here, without so much as a water dock or

hourglass. But there wasn't anything else to do but

sleep. The pillow was so thin it felt as though the

feathers had been taken from a very scrawny bird. "He

one blanket was too thin for real comfort, but by

adding his doak to it, the bardling was almost warm.

He had nearly drifted off to sleep when the squires

returned. Kevin heard their whispers and muffled

laughter, and felt his face redden in the darkness. They

were laughing at him. He knew they were laughing at

him.

Miserable all over again, Kevin turned over, and

buried his face in the pillow.

INTERLUDE THE FIRST

Count Volmar, tall, lean and graying of brown hair

and beard, sat seemingly at ease in his private solar

before a blazing fireplace, a wine-filled goblet ofpre-

cious glass in his hand. He looked across the small

room at the woman who sat there, and raised the

goblet in appreciation. She nodded at the courtesy, her

dark green eyes flickering with cold amusement in the

firelight.

Cariotta, princess, half-sister to King Amber himself,

could not, Volmar knew, be much younger than his

own mid-forties, and yet she could easily have passed

for a far younger woman. Not the slightest trace of age

marred the pale, flawless skin or the glorious masses of

deep red hair turned to bright flame by the firelight

Sorcery, he thought, and then snickered at his own

vapid musings so that he nearly choked on his own

wine. Of course it was sorcery! Cariotta was an

accomplished sorceress, and about as safe. for all her

beauty, as a snake.

About as honorable, too.

Not that he was one to worry overmuch about

honor.

**The boy is safely ensconced, I take it?" Carlotta's

smfle was as chill as her lovely eyes.

"Yes. He has a place among the squires. Who, I

might add, have been given to understand that he's so

far beneath them they needn't bother even to acknow-

ledge his presence — that to do so, in fact, would

demean their own status. By now, the boy is surely

34 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Shannon

thoroughly disillusioned about nobility and question-

ing his own worth."

"He suspects nothing, then? Good. We don't want

him showing any awkward sparks of initiative." Carlot-

ta sipped delicately from her goblet. "We don't want

him copying his Master."

Volmar's mouth tightened. Oh, yes, the Bard, that

cursed Bard. He could remember so clearly, even

though it was over thirty years ago, how it had been,

himself just barely an adult and Carlotta only ... how

old? Only thirteen? Maybe so, but she had already

been as ambitious as he- More so. Already mistress of

the Dark Arts despite her youth, the princess had

attempted to seize the throne from her half-brother.

And almost made it, Volmar thought, then corrected

that to: We almost made it.

Amber had been only a prince back then, on the

verge of the succession. His father had been old, and

there hadn't been any other legal heir; Cariotta, as the

court had been so eager to gossip, was only Amber's

half-sister, her mother quite unknown.

But there were always ways around such awkward

litde facts. Once Amber had been declared dead — or

so it had been believed — in heroic battle (when actual-

ly, Volmar thought wryly, Carlotta's magics had turned

him to stone), the poor old king would surely have...

pined away. Volmar grinned sharply. Why, the shock

alone would have finished him; Carlotta wouldn't have

needed to waste a spell. The people, even if they had,

by some bizarre chance, come to suspect her of wrong-

doing, would have had no choice but to accept

Carlotta, with her half-share of the Blood Royal, as

queen.

Ambitious Uttlegvri... Volmar thought with approval.

What a pity she didn't succeed. Sorceress or no, she would have

been too wise to try ndmg alone. She would have taken a consort.

And who better than one of her loyal supporters?

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 35

Even one whose role in the attempted usurpation had

never become public.

Volmar suddenly realized he was grimacing, and

forced himself to relax. His late father had been an avid

supporter of the old king, and if he had ever found out

his own son was a traitor...

But he hadn't. And of course if only Carlotta had

safely become queen, it wouldn't have mattered. The

only traitors then would have been those who failed to

acknowledge her!

If only... Bah!

Carlotta would have become queen if it hadn't been for

die bo/s Master, chat accursed Bard and his allies....

"Forget the past, Volmar."

The count started, thrown abruptly back into the

present "You -.. have learned to read minds... ?" If the

sorceress suspected he planned to use her to place a

crown on his own head, he was dead. Worse than dead.

"You must leam to guard your expressions, my lord.

Your thoughts were there for anyone with half an eye

to read."

Not all my thoughts, the count thought, giddy with relief.

Cariotta got restlessly to her feet, dark green gown

swniing about her elegant form. Volmar, since she was,

after all, a princess and he only a count, stood as well:

politic courtesy.

She never noticed. "Enough of the past," the sor-

ceress repeated, staring into the flames. "We must

think of what can be done now."

Volmar moved warily to stand beside her, and caught

a flicker of alien movement in the flames. Faces... ah.

Carlotta was absently creating images of the boy, the

bardling. "Why do you suppose he sent the boy here?"

the princess murmured- "And why just now? What

purpose could the old man possibly have? You've con-

vinced me the manuscript is merely a treatise on lute

music." She glanced sharply at Volmar. "It is, isn't it?"

36 Mercedes Lackey S^Josepha Sherman

"Of course," Volmar said easily, hiding the fact that

he wasn't really sure which of the many manuscripts

stored in tfae library it might be; his father had been the

scholar, not he. "My father collected such things.**

**Yes, yes, but why send the boy now? Why is it sud-

denly so urgent that the thing be copied?"

"Ah... it could be merely coincidence."

"No, it couldn't!" The flames roared up as Cariotta

whirled, eyes blazing. Volmar shrank back from her

unexpected surge of rage, half expecting a sorcerous

attack, but the princess ignored him, returning to her

chair and dropping into it with an angry flounce.

"You're the only one who knows how I've been in

hiding all these years, lulling suspicions, making

everyone think I was dead."

"Of course." Though Volmar never had puzzled out

why Cariotta had hidden for quite so many years. Oh.

granted, she had been totally drained after the break-

ing other stone-spell on Amber, but even so...

"Maybe that's it." Carlotta's musings broke into

Volmar's wonderings. "Maybe now that I've come out

of hiding, begun moving again, the Bard has somehow

sensed I'm still around. He is a Master of that

ridiculous Bardic Magic, after all."

Volmar was too wise to remind her it was the Bardic

Magic she so despised that had blocked her path so far.

"Eh, well, the bardling is safe among the squires," he

soothed. "I've been debating simply telling him the

manuscript isn't here and sending him away."

"Don't be a fool!" Sorcery crackled in the air around

Cariotta, her hair stirring where there was no breeze.

"The boy was sent here for a purpose, and we wffl both

be better off when we find out just what that purpose

might bei"

"But how can we learn the truth? If the boy becomes

suspicious, he'll never say a thing. And I can hardly

order the imprisonment or torment of an innocent

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 37

bardling. My people," Volmar added with a touch of

contempt, "wouldn't stand for it."

"Don't be so dramatic. The boy is already quite

miserable, you say. No one will talk to him, no one will

treat him kindly, and he's faced with a long, boring,

lonely task." Cariotta smiled slowly. *Just think how

delighted he would be if someone was race to him! How

eager he would be to confide in that someone!"

"I don't understand. An adult— "

"No, you idiot! Don't you remember what it's like

being that young? The boy is only going to confide in

someone his own age."

As usual, Volmar forced down his rage at her casual

insults. Ah, Cariotta, you superior little witch, if ever I gain

the throne beside you, you had better guard your back! As

innocuously as he could, he asked, "Who are you sug-

gesting? One of the squires?"

"Oh, hardly that"

Her shape blurred, altered ... Volmar rubbed a

hand over his eyes- He'd known from the start that

Cariotta was as much a master of shape-shifting as any

fairy, but watching her in action always made him dizzy.

"You can look now, poor Volmar." Her voice was an

octave higher than before, and so filled with sugar he

dropped his hand to stare.

Where the adult Cariotta had sat was now a coyingly

sweet little blonde girl of, Volmar guessed, the

bardling's own age, though it was difficult to tell age

amid all the golden ringlets and alabaster skin and

large, shining blue eyes.

"How do I look?" she cooed.

Honest words came to his lips before he could stop

them. "Sweet enough to rot my teeth."

She merely threw back her head and laughed. Her

teeth, of course, were flawless. "I am a bit sickening,

aren't I? Let me try a more plausible form."

The sickening coyness faded. The girl remained the

38 Mercedes Lackey ^josepha Sherman

same age, but the blonde hair was now less perfectly

golden, the big blue eyes a bit less glowing, the pale

skin just a touch less smooth. As Volmar grit his teeth,

determinedly watching despite a new surge of dizzi-

ness, he saw the perfect oval other face broaden ever so

slightly at the forehead, narrow at the chin, undl she

looked just like...

"Charina!" the count gasped.

"Charina," the princess agreed. "Your darling little

niece."

Too amazed to remember propriety, Volmar got to

his feet and slowly circled her. "Marvelous!" he

breathed at last. "Simply marvelous! I would never

know you weren't the real — But what do we do with

the real Charina?"

Her voice was deceptively light. "I'm sure you'll

think of something."

"Ah, yes." Volmar smiled thinly. "Poor Charina. She

always has been a bit of a nuisance, wandering about

the castle like a lonely wraith. How unfortunate that

my sister and her fool of a husband had the bad taste to

die. Poor little creature: too far from the main line of

descent to be of any use as a marriage pawn. No politi-

cal value at all. Just another useless girl."

"Not so useless now." Carlotta/Charina dimpled

prettily.

"Poor Charina," Volmar repeated without any

warmth at all. "So easily disposed of. She never will be

missed."

Chapter IV

Kevin woke with a jolt as something smothering

landed smack across his face, molding itself over his

nose and mouth- Gasping, he clawed the monster aside

—and found himself holding a damp towel.

"Very funny!" he began angrily, only to find himself

talking to empty space. The last of the squires was just

leaving the hall, laughing with the others.

Fuming, Kevin got to his feet and found the garde-

robe facilities, grateful that at least the count didn't

insist his underlings use lowly chamber pots. Going to

the communal washing trough, he discovered the

squires hadn't left him more than a few inches of water,

barely enough to splash on his face.

I should just be glad the water's clean1

Grumbling, he dressed, pulling his clothes from the

chest at the foot of his bed, and sat down to a solitary

breakfast — at least they'd left him something to eat! —

of a roll and some scraps of cheese, washed down with a

lukewarm goblet ofkhafe.

Now, all he had to do was find the count's library.

Easily said. Kevin wandered helplessly through the

castle corridors for a time, sure he was going to be

shouted at by D'Krikas for being where he shouldn't

be. At last, to his relief, he intercepted a page, a wide-

eyed boy even younger than Am, who shyly gave him

directions, then hurried away.

At last, the bardling thought wryly. Someone whose

status here is even lower than mine.

The library was a large, dusty room lined with tall

40 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

shelves piled high with scrolls and books of all sizes. It

was so redolent with the scent of dusty old parchment

and leather that Kevin sneezed. Obviously scholarship

wasn't high on the count's list of priorities!

As he glanced about the crowded room, the bardling

shook his head in gloom. The room faced onto an

inner courtyard, safely away from attack, so at least the

windows were large enough to let him see what he was

doing. But there wasn't a title anywhere, not on books

or scroll cases. There wasn't any sign of a librarian,

either. There probably wasn't one, judging from the

dusdness of the room.

All right The sooner he started looking, the sooner

he'd get this whole stupid job finished.

By mid-afternoon, Kevin was dusty, weary of climb-

ing up and down the rickety library ladder and sick to

death of the whole room. Ha, by now he probably

knew more about the contents of the count's library

than anyone, including the count! And what a weird

collection it was, without any logic to it! Why in the

world would anyone want to keep not one but three

copies of The Agricultural Summaries ofKendall County for

the First Twenty Years of King Sendak's Reign? And what

was a treatise on politics doing tucked in between two

volumes of rather bad love poetry?

How can the Master even know for sure the manuscript's in

here?

By Bardic Magic, of course. Kevin started to sigh,

then coughed instead. Blast this dust!

The bardling stopped his hunt long enough to snag

some lunch from a startled page, then dove into the

library once more. A book about farm tools. Another. A

catalog of cattle diseases. One on swine, wild and

domestic. A book on —

"Ow!"

Kevin nearly fell off the ladder, just barely managing

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 41

to catch his balance in time. Something in the shelves

had bit him!

No, no, it hadn't been a bite at all, more of a weird

tingling in his fingertips. Kevin looked warily at the last

book he'd touched — and let out a whoop of joy. Yes,

yes,yes, he'd found the manuscript he needed at last!

The bardling scurried down the ladder clutching his

prize, and took it over to the library's one desk, wiping off

dust from the manuscripts leather binding as he went. A

good chunk of the day was already gone, but at least he

could get the copying started. Someone, presumably at

D'Krikas' command, had left him supplies. Kevin found

an inkwell and two quill pens on the desk, and a nice

stack of parchment in a drawer. Sitting with the

manuscript open before him, the bardling paused for

one anticipatory moment, then dove into his work.

But after a moment, Kevin straightened again,

blinking in confusion. He could have sworn the whole

manuscript had been written in the common script

used by most of the human lands here in the West —

yet now some of the words seemed to be in a different

language completely.

The bardling rubbed his eyes. He'd spent too much

time in this dusty place, peering at old books.

Manuscripts did not change themselves from one lan-

guage to another.

Yet when Kevin took a second look, he saw, without any

doubtabout it, that some of the letters were actually, slowly

and gracefully, changing before his eyes, altering from the

human scriptintoelaborate, beautiful, alien figures.

Elvish, he realized with a shock, recognizing the

script from some of his Master's music books.

Kevin bit back a groan as he realized what lay ahead.

He could only read a few words in elvish. That meant

he'd have to copy the symbols line for line, much more

slowly and carefully than he would the script of a lair-

guage that meant something to him.

42 Mercedes Lackey f^Josepha Shermcm

Ohf wonderful. More tine wasted.

But as the bardling started copying the manuscript

word by word and symbol by symbol, a sudden little

shiver of wonder raced through him. Even though the

elvish wasn't miraculously translating itself for him,

even though he had no idea what he was copying, the

very fact that he'd been able to see the letters transform

could only mean one thing: his long-sleeping gift for

Bardic Magic had finally started to wake up! His

fingers fairly itched to try his lute and see if the magical

songs finally had some Power to them!

First things first There was sdll the manuscript to finish.

Maybe his magic was starting to wake, but his eyes were

beginning Go ache. It was getting more and more difficult

to see the pages. Kevin looked up, mildly surprised to real-

ize how dark the library had become; he hadn't been

aware of the passing hours, butbynowitwas very obvious-

ly too latetodo any more copying. Srifl, he'd made a good

start. And. ..magic, he thought with a renewed thrill of

wonder. Bardic Magic was going to be his.

Kevin got slowly to his feet. But in the middle of

stretching stiff muscles, he froze. Acting on an impulse

he didn't quite understand, the bardling warily hid the

manuscript behind a shelf of books.

There. That should keep it safe till tomorrow.

He scooped up his copy. Returning to the squires'

quarters, the bardling followed his Master's orders

(though they seemed unnecessarily wary) and hid the

copy in a secret pocket in his saddlebags, which in turn he

hid under his dothes in the chest- Withadredsigh, he sat

down on the cot and picked up his lute. Warily, he tried

one of the magical songs. Nothing much happened —

except for a faint, yet very real ringing in his fingers.

It was true. Grinning, Kevin knew he really did have

the gift for Bardic Magic. And who knew where that

might lead?

"Bard," Kevin whispered joyously.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 43

In the morning, not even noticing how the squires con-

tinued to snub him, Kevin ate and dressed in a rush and

hurried to the library, eager to start the day's copying. Lef^s

see, he'd hidden the manuscriptbehind this row...

"No, oh no!"

The manuscript was gone.

That's impossible. I— Imust have just mistaken which row

it was.

The bardling started searching in the next row and

then the next, carefully at first, then more and more

frantically- Ithad to be here! Elvish words or no,

manuscripts just didn't get up and walk!

Kevin was on his knees, facing denuded shelves and

surrounded by piles of books when a gentle cough made

him start. He whirled so sharply he lost his balance, sitting

downhardonsomeofthebooks.andstaredupat...

At one of the loveliest giris he'd ever seen. Her long

plaits of hair were such a beautiful gold, her eyes were

the clearest blue, the same shade as her silky gown,

while her face and figure were... were...

Reddening, Kevin scrambled to his feet, trying to

brush off as much dust as possible. "I... uh ... was

working in the library." Oh, you idiot! She can see that for

herself." I mean, I was copying out a manuscript For my

Master. He's a Bard. And I — I'm Kevin, I mean his

apprentice, I mean, a bardling."

The lovely eyes widened. "How wonderful! I've

never met anyone studying to be a Bard before. You

must be very wise."

"Uh ... well, I don't know about that It's not easy

being a bardling, though."

"I can imagine! All that musk to leam — I never could

manage to do more than pick out me simplest tunes on die

harp, no matter how my tutors insisted. Arc you a harper,

too? No? Whatinstrumentdo you play?"

For a moment, staring into those warm blue depths,

44 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepfu Shennan

Kevin couldn't remember to save his life. "The — the

lute," he stammered out at last.

"My goodness," she said respectfully. "Tnat's a very

difficult instrument, isn't it?"

"Not for me." Wonderful. Now, instead of an idiot I

sound like a braggart.

"I'd love it if you'd play for me. If you want to, that is."

"Oh. I do!" Kevin exdaimed.

The girl gave the most delightful litde giggle. "But

I'm forgetting my manners! Here I'm asking you to

play for me, and you don't even know who I am. My

name is Charina, and I am Count Vohnar's niece."

Kevin hastily bowed. "My lady."

"Please!" Her sweet laugh sent a litde shiver through

him. "I hear enough formalities at my uncle's court.

But I didn't mean to startle you, or interrupt you

in..." Her glance took in the empty shelves and pfles

of books. "In whatever it is you're doing. Please,

continue."

How could he, with such a wonderful creature

watching him? One eye on Charina, Kevin did his best

to look for the missing manuscript, but at last sank back

on his heels with a groan. "I can't find it."

To his wonder, she knelt by his side in a feint, sweet

cloud of perfume. He heard himself say, "YouTlget

your gown all dusty," even as he was hoping she

wouldn't listen-

Charina shrugged impatiently. "Gowns can be

cleaned. Now, if you'll tell me what the manuscript

looks like, I'll help you look."

He couldn't concentrate with her face so dose to his,

her eyes so earnest, her lips...

To his horrified embarrassment, his body was

responding. Kevin turned hastily away, praying she

hadn't noticed. "It's c-called The Study of Ancient Song,

but I don't think that's its real name, and it's about so

big, so wide, in a worn brown leather binding."

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 45

"You don't think that's its real name?" Charina

echoed softly. "Why ever not?"

Kevin felt her warmth like a fire against his arm. He

hastily moved that arm away, and the giri laughed-

"Why, bardling, are you afraid of me?"

She made it sound so ridiculous that Kevin found

himself starting to laugh, too. "No, of course not," he

Hed. "But I... you ..." Quickly he changed to a safer

subject- "The manuscript's too weird to be just a study.

I mean, part of it's in elvish."

"How odd! But I said I'd help you look, and I will."

It was, Kevin thought, as they searched together,

easily turning out to be both the worst and the most

wonderful day of his life-

Aday that ended all too soon.

"I'm sorry we couldn't find the manuscript,"

Charina said. A smudge of dirt covered the very tip of

her nose, and Kevin had to fight down the impulse to

brush it away, to touch her soft cheek — No! He didn't

dare. If he touched her once, he wouldn't be able to

stop. And she was the count's niece, after all.

"Yes, uh, right," he got out. "Blast the thing! It has to

be here somewhere^

"I know what you need," Charina told him with a

smile. "You need a day away from this dusty old place."

"I can't— "

"You can! You'll be more likely to find the

manuscript if you get out in the nice, fresh air. I know!

I'm going riding tomorrow. Why don't you join me?

You... do ride, don't you?"

Hewasn'tabout to tell her aboutthe mule. "Ofcourse."

"Well, then! Meet me by the stables tomorrow morn-

ing, and we'll make a whole day of it."

I shouldn't. I should stay here and find the manuscript and

finish copyvngtt,and—and—

And a day away from it couldn't possibly matter.

46 Mercedes Lackey &fJosephs Sherman

"I'll be there," Kevin promised, and smiled.

Of course they weren't allowed to ride out alone. A

dull-faced groom went with them, several tactful

strides behind so they could at least pretend to be

alone.

Kevin hardly noticed the man. Charina sat her pret-

ty white palfrey with graceful ease, her deep blue

riding gown matching the little mare's blue-dyed bridle

and saddle, her hair tucked neatly up under a

feathered cap. As for the bardling, well, he was

mounted not on a mule but on a horse, a real, spirited

horse! Maybe it wasn't so easy to keep his seat, maybe

he nearly fell a dozen times, but at last he was riding a

proper hero's mount

They didn't ride very far, only as far as a flowery

hillside.

"I thought this would make a lovely picnic site,"

Charina said, jumping lighdy down before the embar-

rassed Kevin could help her. As they munched on

fresh, buttery bread and the first peaches of

springtime, the girl coaxed, eyes bright, "But there's so

much more in my uncle's demesne! Tomorrow is

market day. We can ride down into the town and see all

the sights."

"Well..."

"Oh, you can't say no! Please! It'll be such fun.

Besides, I see so few people my own age!"

"There are the squires," Kevin said, hating himself

for reminding her.

To his delight, she dismissed them all with a con-

temptuous wave of the hand. "Mere boys. Servants no

better than their masters. While you are almost a Bard.

You are going to be somebody. You are somebody!

Besides," she added shyly, "I like you."

Another day away from the library can't hurt, either, Kevin

told himself.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 47

But two days stretched into three, then four. A full

week passed, then another without him noting it, a

rime out of time during which Kevin and Charina rode

together all over the count's lands, hunting out pretty

glades and awesome mountain vistas. He played his

lute for her, searching for the most romantic songs he

knew, half amazed to hear how wonderfully alive his

music sounded, how full of strength. This was the true

dawning of his Bardic Magic, Kevin realized with a

touch of awe. And surely Charina, just by being her

own sweet, wonderful self, was helping it awaken.

Surely he wouldn't have long to wait before it woke

completely. When it did. -.

Kevin smiled, seeing himself released from appren-

ticeship, seeing himself returning in triumph to

Charina, no longer a mere bardling but a full Bard, the

equal of almost any rank of nobility.

"KevmuHis Master wasfacmgfmn, looking so reproachful

the bardUng asked warily:

"What'swrong? What have I done?"

"It's what you haven't done, Kevin. Where is the

'manuscript, boy? Where is the copy I asked you to make?"

"ravaake it. Master, don't/ear!"

^Vbufiwst. Your Ufe depends on it. Do you hearme, Kevin?

$6w Ufe depends on it."

^o,!—"

W

Kevin's eyes shot open, staring up at a stone ceiling

high overhead. What — Where —

A dream, he realized, sinking back in relief. He was

in the squires' quarters in Count Volmar's casde, and

he'd merely had a bad dream.

And yet, Kevin thought uneasily, there had been a

germ of truth to it. He really had been neglecting his

duty for... how long had it been? Mentally adding up

the days, the bardling gasped to realized he hadn't

even thought of the manuscript for nearly two weeks.

48 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepka Sherman

Overwhelmed by guilt, he sprang to his feet — and

gasped anew.

Someone in the night had most thoroughly gone

through his belongings-

Mylute!

To his immense relief, though its case had been

opened, the lute hadn't been harmed.

But what about the copy of the manuscript? I/anyone's

takenit...

The bardling hastily knelt by the clothes chest. His

clothes were strewn all about, but nothing at all seemed

to have been taken. Suddenly wary, Kevin deliberately

didn't grab at the saddlebags. Instead, he slipped his

hand casually into the hidden pocket, just in case he

was being watched, as though he was merely rummag-

ing through the clothing.

Ah! The copy was still in there, undisturbed.

The bardling straightened, glaring about at the

squires. "All right, whose idea of a joke was (his?"

"Look at the poor little boy!" someone jeered.

"Musta been sleepwalking."

"Sleep rummaging, you mean!" someone else

yelled, "rustlike some ragpicking peasant!"

The squires all burst into raucous laughter, and

Kevin turned away in disgust. He wasn't going to learn

which one of them was the jester, not without fighting

the whole pack. Which would be truly stupid; every

one of these buffoons practiced combat daily. Besides,

although he burned to wipe some of those grins off a

few of those jeering faces, he'd been a bardling too long

to risk damaging his hands in a fight, particularly not

now, when his magic was starting to blossom.

I wish I cmdd really use it! Then vw'd see v)ho had the final

lavgh!

No. A true Bard never used his talents for harm.

Blast it to Darkness!

Clenching his jaws in frustration, Kevin set about

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 49

putting his belongings back in place. By the time he

was done, he was alone in the hall, and by the time he

had eaten and dressed, he'd gotten his emotions under

control.

After all, he had been spending his time with Count

Volmar's niece, equal to equal. Nothing these silly boys,

these... mere servants could do was worth his notice!

At least Kevin thought he believed all that

As he was on his way to the library, determined once

and for all to find the missing manuscript and copy it, a

sweet voice called to him, "Where are you going in

such a hurry?"

Why did he suddenly feel so guilty? "Charina, I — "

"The weather's so nice and warm today! And I have

a wonderful idea for a picnic, just the two of us.**

Oh, how could he resist those lovely blue eyes?

Grimly, Kevin reminded himself of the dream and his

neglected duty. "I'm sorry, Charina," he said with very

real regret. "I can't. I really would love to go riding or

picnicking or anything else with you, truly. But, well, I

have a job to do, and I'd better do it."

Charina stared at him as though he'd just told her

something obscene. "You'd turn me down?" she

gasped.

"Please, I didn't mean — "

"You would! No, no, don't try to argue. I quite un-

derstand. You're bored with me."

"No!"

"Yes, you are." She tossed her head. "If you don't

want to come with me, you don't have to. I can do very

well without you, you — you boy\"

With that, Charina flounced angrily away, leaving

Kevin standing lost and unhappy behind her.

INTERLUDE THE SECOND

Count Volmar looked up in surprise as Cariotta

stormed into the solar, shedding the persona of

Charina like a cloak and throwing herself down in a

chair, eyes wild, red hair crackling about her.

"I cannot bear being that simpering litde fool of a giri

a moment longer!" she raged.

She looked so totally inhuman in her sorcerous fury

that Volmar shuddered. "I can't say I blame you," he said

soothingly, and sawjusta touch of that fury fade. "I never

did like litde girls. All sweetness and cuteness— Bah." He

moved to the small table by the wall that held decanters of

wine. Without asking her, Volmar filled a goblet and

handed it to her. As Cariotta sipped, he took his seatagain

and asked, "Do you really need to be her any longer?"

The princess glared at him over the goblet's rim in

suddenly renewed anger, sorcerous hair like wildfire

about her. "/don't know!" she snapped. "I feel as

though I don't know anything any more!"

Warily, like a man tiptoeing on the edge of a fiery pit,

Volmar asked, "You haven't been able to find the

manuscript, I take it?"

"Curse the thing, noi You either, obviously."

"Obviously." Ambitious though he was, Volmar ad-

mitted to himself, he was not about to do anything as

reckless as trying to hide a probably magical artifact

from a sorceress- Particularly one who right now was

ablaze with rage and frustration. "You're sure the boy

isn't deliberately hiding it somewhere in the library."

Cariotta shook her head. "He may have tried to do

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 51

so at first, but he was quite definitely on the verge of

panic while hunting for the thing when I entered as

Charina. No ..." she added thoughtfully, "he has

nothing to do with its disappearance. There is almost

certainly a spell surrounding the manuscript."

"A spell! I thought you could detect such things."

"Oh, it's a very subtle one if even my sorceries

haven't been able to sense it. And, since the manuscript

seems to be designed to deliberately hide itself, even

from me, it must be a very powerful spell indeed."

Volmar fought down a new shudder. Bad enough to

have a sorcerous ally; he understood Cariotta and the

dangers she represented after all these years. Or at

least he hoped he did. But the thought that there

might be some new, unknown, alien magic lurking in

his castle as well, magic even Cariotta couldn't identify,

Just waiting to strike...

"What about the boy?" That came out more sharply

than he'd intended; he was struggling to keep his voice

from shaking- "You told me he has the rudiments of

Bardic Magic about him. Could he have somehow — "

"The rudiments. It's a nuisance that it should have

begun waking now, but the boy hasn't yet mastered

even the least Powerful of magic songs."

"He still might know more than he admits."

"I doubt it." Cariotta sighed impatiently. "I've seen

more of him in the past two weeks than I ever want to

see of anyone. Still, he is the only due we have to the

manuscript."

"But what if his magic does come to life?" Volmar

stirred uneasily in his chair. "I don't like the boy. He's

too... too..."

"Honest?" Carlotta's voice was sly.

"Unpredictable," the count countered. "I think we

should be rid of him now, while we still can."

"Not yet." Her glance held a disconcerting hint of

contempt. "Volmar, you always were a nervous sort.

52 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

Let me try to explain this to you as dearly as I can: the

boy is not a threat to us."

"Not yet,** the count echoed darkly.

Carlotta's eyes flashed. "Challenging my wisdom?**

she asked, ever so softly. "Volmar, dear little Volmar,

don't try to cross me. I could destroy you, little man,

with a glance.**

The count froze, all at once very much aware of how

dose Death could be. One wrong word... "Why, Prin-

cess!" He forced the words from a mouth that suddenly

seemed too dry for speech. "Havel ever been anything

but your loyal ally?"

"To serve your own goals."

"Well, yes, I won't lie about that. But in doing so I

serve yours as well, for both our sakes! Someday, my

princess, you will wrest the throne from that fool— "

" *That fool,* as you so charmingly put it, is my

brother."

"Your half-brother only. Carlotta, we both know you

aren't bound by any misguided sisterly love. Someday

you will take the throne- And when you do, my dear

princess, I know you will remember your friends."

"Friends." Carlotta's glance flicked over him. the

contempt now only just barely hidden. But then she

shrugged. "We shall watch the boy a bit longer. I will

make one last effort to win him, body and mind. And if

I still cannot subvert him to my side, I give you permis-

sion to rid us of him." She paused. "Even as you did

our poor, sweet Charina."

Volmar waved that off. A giri hadn't any business being

up on the ramparts anyhow, not without even a guard

for company, let alone doing something as foolish as

leaning over the edge of the crenelladons to watdi birds

fly by. It had almost been too easy to help her join that

flight. However briefly. And not a soul could say it had

been anything but an accident. "We shouldn't wait," the

count insisted. "I havea feeling—**

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 53

"Come now! Leave presdence to me. We can't be rid

of him just yet. We still may need him to find the

manuscript if we cannot." She shuddered delicately.

" Even if it means I must once more take on the persona

of that pretty little fool of a — No, wait..." The prin-

cess straightened in her chair, eyes fierce. "That may

not be necessary. The boy has a head full of wild

romance. What if...? Ha, yes, of course! I already laid

the groundwork without realizing it when I told him I

would go riding alone."

"My princess, whataw? you talking about?**

"You'll leam, soon enough. Yes, I do believe that I

shall go riding alone again tomorrow." Her smile was

all at once so alien, so full of dark, sorcerous promise,

that Volmar's heart turned chill. "And then," Carlotta

added softly, "we... shall see what we shall see."

More than that, she would not say, leaving Count

Volmar cold with nameless dread.

Chapter V

Kevin sat: on a wobbly pile of books, head in hands.

He'd searched the library from end to end; the

manuscript just wasn't here!

No one could have taken it. Not even the count knew which

manuscript I was copying!

Right. No one had taken the thing. The dust that

covered much of the floor showed pretty deariy that, save

for that one brief visit by Charina, no one other than he

had even been in the library recently: her neat footprints

were in a direct line in and out of the room, his were all

over the place, but had a distinctive deft in one sole. If

anyone else had entered, they'd done soin mid-air.

This was insane! Nobody around here could fly —

but manuscripts didn't up and vanish all by them-

selves!

I should have gone riding with Charina, Kevin thought

in misery.

He had passed her in the hall — or, rather, she had

passed him, on her way for another solitary ride,

sweeping regally by with her head in the air as if he

hadn't even existed. Kevin winced, wondering if she

would ever even speak to him again. He had been

right, of course, painful though it was; he was here to

do a job, not enjoy himself with a beautiful young

woman—

A job he couldn't do because the cursed manuscript

was gone!

A sudden frantic pounding on the library door

brought Kevin to his feet in alarm.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 55

ft

"Bardling!" a voice shouted. "Count Volmar wishes

to see you!"

The count! The bardling stiffened in sudden panic.

Why did Count Volmar want to see him now? Was it

something about the manuscript — or about Charina?

Kevin hastily smoothed his hair with his hands and

brushed the dust off himself as best he could, wishing

he had time to make himself more presentable, then

hurried out of the library.

His first impression was of an anthill someone had kick-

ed. The usually quiet corridors were packed with people

rushingbackand forth, panic in their eyes and voices.

"What is it?" he asked. "Are — are we under attack?"

"No, no." The servant who'd knocked on the door

was in a frenzy of impatience. "No dme to talk, bard-

ling. Hurry!"

Kevin had expected Count Volmar to be holding court

in the Great Hall, as was usual for the lord of a castle.

Instead, to thebardling's surprise, he wasbusded up to the

count's private solar and pracdcally shoved inside. A tall,

lean, richly dressed man who could only be Count Volmar

was padngresdessly back and forth.

He stopped short as Kevin entered, staring at the

bardling with frantic eyes. "Good, good, you're here.

Bardling, I know you and my niece have become

friends. No, no, don't look so guilty! I know you haven't

done anything dishonorable."

The count resumed his nervous pacing. "It's

Charina." The words were choked out. "She's gone."

"Gone! What — how — "

"Charina went riding this morning," Count Volmar

said softly, "with only her groom to protect her. I — I

never should have let her go, but..." He held up a

helpless hand- "Charina can be so very persuasive. And

I never really believed she could come to any harm,

never! Not on my lands!"

"My lord, please!" Kevin cried. "What happened?"

56 Me/cedes Lackey ^Josephs Sherman

"Her horse returned without her, its coat all sweaty

with fright. I thought there had been an accident, that

Charina had been thrown and the groom was staying

with her. But when I sent men out to hunt for my niece,

they returned white-faced and trembling. They had

found the groom, all right. Dead. Killed by sorcery —

elvish sorcery." The count shuddered. "There was no

sign at all of Charina."

"Elvish?" Kevin protested, remembering the elves

who'd appeared to him back in the forest. He never

doubted those so-superior beings could have been

capable of great cruelty if the fancy moved them. But

surely they never would have committed murder!

They were alien, not evil! "Are you sure? I mean, why

would elves — **

"Don't you know anything?" Count Volmar

snapped. "Don't you have the slightest idea of what the

world is like out there? Bardhngs! All wound up in

your music — Did you think that everyone in the land is

loyal to the King?"

"I... suppose not. But — "

"There are rebel elves throughout the king's realm

— yes, and not just White Elves, either! At least those

have a code of honor, even if a man can't understand it.

But there are others far worse!"

"Dark Elves, you mean?" Kevin wanted desperately

to show he knew something about the world.

"Of course Dark Elves! Necromancers, the lot of

them!" The count shook his head in disgust. "Should

have been exterminated years ago!"

"I don't understand? I always thought the elf-folk,

even the — the Dark Elves, kept pretty much to them-

selves. Why would they — "

"They aren't human!" the count exploded. "These

are Others; who can comprehend anything they do?

They hate humans, bardling, every one of them, par-

ticularly any who try to rule 'their' country. And they

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 57

have Powers we can't hope to understand. The Dark

Elves, with their foul, foul sorceries ..." He shud-

dered. "Yes, and even the White Elves wield magic

strong enough to twist human minds! They can turn

child against parent, friend against friend — They can

even destroy a human mind and soul, leaving nothing

behind but an empty shell to be filled with whatever

they will"

Volmar broke onabruptly, turning sharply away.

After a moment, he muttered, "Forgive me. I didn't

mean to shout at you, bardling. It's simply that I — I

am so very worried about Charina.... **

"They wouldn't dare harm her!" Kevin said inanely.

"You think not? Look you, at first I hoped she had

simply been kidnapped. But there have been no ran-

som demands, no messages at all! I fear they hate

humans so much they're not going to even try to get

anything from me. No, ah no, they'll hurt her just

because she is who she is!"

"They can't!" Kevin cried in anguish- "I — uh, we

won't let them!"

The count let out a long, shuddering sigh. "No," he

said, "we won't Bardling., - Kevin, is it? Kevin, I plan

to mount several expeditions to find her. And I want

you to lead one."

"Me?"

"Yes. You and Charina became such good friends in

so short a time that there must be some psychic link

between you. And that will certainly help you use

Bardic Magic to find her."

Somehow Kevin forgot that whatmagic he happened to

possess was only now starting to wake, its range still

unknown. "I'll do it!" he cried, "When do weleave?"

"Tomorrow." The count smiled faintly. "Thank you,

Kevin. I'm sure a talented young man like yourself will

succeed where knights, with all their brainless heroics,

would only fail."

58 Mercedes Lackey S^Josefiha Sherman

A small part of Kevin's mind wasn't so sure of that.

What, he, an untrained bardling, succeed over batde-

proven warriors? But he didn't dare let himself start to

doubt, for Charina's lovely sake. "Your niece will be

safely returned to you, Count Volmar," the bardling

said somberly, and bowed his most courdy bow.

That night, Kevin slept not at all. His mind kept

insisting on conjuring dreadful images ofCharina in

her captors' hands. He couldn't shake the count's dark

words: "They can destroy a human mind and soul!" The

thought ofCharina left so hopelessly ... empty bit at

his soul. "No! I won't let that happen to you! I'll save

you, I swear it!" Or die trying...

He wanted to shout it, but such hysteria would only

bring the casde folk rushing around him, wanting to

know why he was making so much noise. So Kevin lay

still, aching with impatience, and waited as the slow,

slow hours passed.

As soon as the sun was just barely lightening the sky,

he was down in the courtyard, so wild with excitement

he couldn't stand still, eager to meet his fellow

searchers and get going. His lute was slung across his

back, since no Bard could work Bardic Magic without

the aid of an instrument, and the few pages he'd

managed to copy from the missing manuscript were

safely tucked into the case as well. But now a mail shirt

burdened Kevin's shoulders with unaccustomed

weight — though fortunately it was dwarven work,

lighter than human-made armor — and a sword from

the casde armory hung at his side. Kevin closed his

hand about the hilt, trying to feel like a seasoned war-

rior but guiltily remembering his Master's warning: a

musician must always be careful of his hands.

/ will, he promised the old Bard silently. But...

weS. ..this is something that I-must do.

Odd. He had expected the courtyard to be full of

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 59

knights and squires preparing to set out on their own

rescue missions. Yet there didn't seem to be anyone

around but himself. Suddenly panicky, Kevin

wondered if, early though the morning was, he was

already too late. Had everyone left without him?

No. That was ridiculous. Even the boldest knight wasn't

going to try riding down the castle's steep hill in the dark.

Evidently the count meant to send die different parries out

atdifferent times during the day. His mustbe the first-And

that had to mean the count truly trusted him!

Yes, but where were his —

"You?" the bardling said in dismay. "You're my

troop?"

"You?** a throaty voice echoed in wry humor. "You're

our leader?"

The woman who'd spoken was tall and rangy, a

hunter and warrior, quiver on her back, sword at her

side. Her short, curly black hair was held back from her

face by a leather thong, and her dark eyes were the

most devilish Kevin had ever seen. Her olive skin was

deeply tanned — and a good deal of that skin was

revealed, because her leather armor and breeches

didn't seem to be hiding very much other lithe form-

Kevin realized how (and where) he was staring, and

reddened. The woman only laughed.

"Never mind, boy. Nothing to be ashamed of; not you,

not me." She held out a rough hand for him to shake; for

all her undeniably feminine shape, there was nothing

fragile abouthergrip. "I'm Lydianalanthis, butlet's make

things easier on you: Call me Lydia."

"I'm Kevin." He added with reluctant honesty, "A

bardling."

"A bardling, huh? Count couldn't afford a full

Bard?" She grinned at his look of dismay, teeth daz-

zlingly white against her skin. "Don't look so hot and

heavy, boy! I'm only teasing."

"I knew that," he muttered.

60 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

"He is paying you, isn't he?" Lydia asked with a note

of genuine concern in her voice. "I mean, a kid like you

— he isn't trying to cheat you?"

The bardling straightened indignantly. Yes, the

count had given him a purse of coins, but it had been

for travelling expenses, not payment! "I'm not a — a

kid! Or a mercenary!"

Lydia shrugged. "In other words, he's not paying

you. Powers save me from idealistic youngsters!"

"The count's niece is in terrible danger! How can

you possibly be worried about money!"

"Because," the woman drawled, "I've gotten into the

habit of eating regularly. Can't do that very well

without coin in the purse."

"You're not one of Count Volmar's subjects?"

"Powers, no! I'm subject to me, boy, not to any count!

I was making my way across the world — never did it

before, that's why!" she added before he could ask.

"Anyhow, I got as far as this castle when I heard the

news about the count's niece and a reward for her safe

return."

"Oh."

Lydia grinned again, but this dme Kevin thought it

looked more like a snarl than a smile. "Let's set things

straight from the start. Yes, I'm a mercenary. But don't

you look down your nose at me, boy! I earn my own

way, give good value for service bought, honor my

agreements, and sleep nice and sound at night. You

find anything wrong with that, or with me, best get it

outin the open now."

"I don't. And I didn't mean to insult you. It's just

that... well, I've never met anyone like you before."

She gave a bark of a laugh. "1 bet you haven't! Look,

Kevin, I'm not angry at you. It's just I've seen too many

men — and boys like you — try to take advantage of

any woman who isn't under some man's protection.

I'm lucky; my people believe in letting a girl grow up

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 61

knowing how to defend herself. But I've travelled

enough to know it sure as hell isn't an easy world for

most of my sex."

"And so you're trying to protect other women?"

"Hell, no! I'm trying to protect any helpless soul!

Damned if I'm going to let anyone, male, female or

whatever, be turned into a — a thing to be used, not if I

can do something to stop it- Besides," she added, her

quick grin back so suddenly Kevin wondered if she was

ashamed of having been serious for even a moment,

"the pay is good!"

"But what—"

"Look," she interrupted brusquely, "here comes the

rest of our party."

The bardling watched them leaving the keep, first

one, then another, then ... two? Only two? Staring in

dismay, Kevin realized that despite all those encourag-

ing words, the count couldn't have trusted him that

much after all.

Ah well, what was, as the saying went, was. Trying to

keep the disappointment out of his voice, he waited till

they were within earshot, then began as firmly as he

could, "Welcome. I am Kevin, a bardling, and this war-

rior is Lydia."

As the first figure shook back the hood of its gray-

green cloak, revealing slanted green eyes, pale, silken

hair and fair-skinned, ageless features so fine-boned

and elegant they never could have been human, the

bardling added with a gasp, "You're an elfi"

The elf-man looked at him without expression.

Except, Kevin thought glumly, for a hint of contempt

in those slanted eyes. "You are observant."

Oh yes, this was an elf, all right. The sarcasm in the

cool voice reminded Kevin all too well of that night in

the forest. "I'm sorry," the bardling said as courteously

as he could. "I didn't mean to be rude. I was just

surprised."

62

Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Sheyman

That earned him the barest dip of the head from the

elf. "Understandably. I am Eliathanis, of the

Moonspirit dan of White Elves." He was also obviously

a warrior, his lithe figure dad in silvery scales of elvish

armor, a straight sword with an intricately wrought sil-

ver hilt at his side. "My people do not enjoy being

accused by humans of harm. I was here at court when

the girl was stolen — and I intend to prove those ac-

cusations wrong."

/ bet you haven't got a crumb of humor in your whole body,

Kevin thought, eyeing that rigidly controlled face.

Stealing from one of the old ballads, the bardling said

formally, "We shall be glad of your help, good warrior,"

and gave a formal little bow.

"But will you be so glad of my help?" the second figure

wondered softly. Slowly, with a fine sense of drama, it

drew back the hood of its black doak. revealing a face just

as inhumanly fine-boned and elegant as that of

Eliathanis, framed by a fall of straight, silvery-btond hair

—but this face was so dark of skin it was nearly as black as

the doak. The elf was dressed entirely in black as well,

tunic, hose, boots, all save for a chin silver belt. The dasp,

Kevin noted uneasily, was worked in the shape of a skull.

Blue eyes, eerie against so much darkness, glinted coldly.

"A Dark Elfl" Lydia yelped, hand flying to the hilt of

her sword.

"Nithatlttir the White Elf hissed, eyes blazing.

The Dark Elf bowed, so very graciously it was an in-

sult. "Yes," he said in his soft voice, "Nithatfiil, Dark Elf;

indeed." The blue glance flicked lighdy over Kevin and

Lydia, then back to the odier elf. "Call me Naitachal if

you must have a specific name for me."

**I have a name for you!" Eliathanis snapped.

"Necromancer!"

Kevin stepped hastily between the angry elves, hoping

he wasn't about to get blasted by either side. "Uh... might

we ask what you wish, my... uh... my lord Nahachal?**

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 63

"Why, I am here to help you return the lost human

girl to her unde, even as you," the Dark Elf purred.

But Kevin, being as dose to the elf as he was, caught

the barest glint of pain in the eerie blue eyes. He

expects us to hate hnn! the bardling realized in surprise.

And the idea hurts him. f didn't think Dark Elves cared what

anyone thought of them!

As Kevin hesitated, uncertain, Naitachal drew back

the barest step, drawing his doak about his lean form.

"I do not wish to force myself on you," he murmured to

Kevin. "But even as you. White Elf, I will not see my

people accused of a crime that is not theirs."

"Since when did your kind worry about what others

thought?" Eliathanis challenged.

"Since the humans have become so numerous," the

Dark Elf answered. "Even the mightiest of dragons can

be brought down by a large enough pack of hounds."

"Ah. Well. Yes," Kevin said. Great, here was his first

big decision as a leader, and he was stammering like an

idiot! "Lydia, Eliathanis, we can hardly deny a man the

right to defend the honor of his people."

"They have no — "

"Of his people," Kevin repeated hastily, before the

White Elf could finish his insult. "Whatever we may

think of each other, we've been thrown together on the

orders of Count Volmar. Do any of you wish to back out

now? Well? Do you? You'd better speak now, because I

don't want to find myself in the middle of— " Of what?

Thinking frantically, the bardling continued, almost

smoothly — "of some heroic battle only to see my sup-

posed comrades battling each other instead. Or

running away like little boys yelling, 'I don't wanna

play with him!*"

"How dare you!" Eliathanis began in outrage, but

Kevin continued, using his trained musidan's voice to

swell over the White Elf's words, "Look at you two

elves! You think yourself superior to us humans? Well,

64 Mervedes Ladey ^Josepha Sherman

maybe you are —but I haven't seen any sign of that

superiority yet!"

"Bravo," murmured Lydia, but the bardling ignored

her. continuing hotly, "While you two waste precious

time by bickering, an innocent girl may be suffering,

may even be dying! We all want the same thing, and

that's to free her! I ask you, all three of you: will you or

will you not stay with me?"

There was a long, tense silence. Then:

"Hell, I'm willing," Lydia said with a shrug-

"And I," murmured Naitachal.

Eliathanis hesitated a moment longer, glaring at the

Dark Elf, then shrugged. "No one has spoken of aban-

doning you. human. Besides, I would not have it said 1

was less brave than a Nithathil.w

Kevin nearly laughed aloud, all at once so shaky with

relief he wasn't sure he could move. "Good! And

together we shall stay — until the Lady Charina is

returned safely to her uncle!"

Chapter VI

"What do you mean, this is all we get?" Lydia

thundered at the starded stable hand.

"But — but my lady, there are four of you. The

count's offering you four horses — "

"And what about grain for those horses? And sup-

plies for us? Hell, I can hunt down enough meat to

keep us going, and I'm sure the boy or one of these

elves knows how to find nuts and berries, but I am not

going to sleep on bare ground or go without a change

of clothes! You throw in at least one pack horse, fully

provisioned, mind you — and do it now!"

As the terrified servant scurried off, Lydia winked at

Kevin. "That's the way to do it," she murmured. "Act as

if you know what you're doing, keep *em off balance,

and they'll give you anything you want"

"I — I see." The bardling struggled to imitate

Eliathanis and keep his face an impassive mask. But

he was sure everyone knew exactly how inept he

felt! Here he was supposed to be the leader of the

group and it hadn't even occurred to him to ask for

grain!

"Don't worry, kid." The woman gave his shoulder a

light punch. "1*11 look out for you."

Wonderful. Just what he wanted: a babysitter. Kevin

tried not to scowl as he watched Lydia prowl up and

down the rows of stalls. "Which is Lady Charina's

horse?" she called out. "This? Should have known.

Dainty little creature. A real lady's palfrey. Couldn't

stand a day on the trail... Hold still, horse."

66 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Shennan

She lifted a foreleg, examining the hoof and shoe,

then waved the others to her side-

"Disdncdve shoeing. See the slight ridging here, and

here? If this beast left hoofprints, I can follow them."

"My... uh... lady?"

Lydia glanced up and grinned. "Ah, here we go!"

As she had ordered, the stable hand had brought them

not only their horses, but a laden pack horse as well

As they rode down from the casde and out over the

fields, Lydia crouched low over the neck other horse,

studying the ground, finally dismounting to study

what looked like a perfectly unremarkable patch of

earth to Kevin.

"This is where the girl was seized, all right," she said.

"See how the grass has been torn up?"

Elialhanis dismounted as well, then drew back in dis-

taste. "It sdnks of sorcery."

"It does," Naitachal agreed softly, joining him. "Sor-

cery cold enough to slay a man." Wrapped in his black

cloak, hood up against the sun (which must be uncom-

fortably bright, Kevin thought, to someone used to

darker lands), the Dark Elf was a sinister, faceless fig-

ure. "Do you not feel the echo of his death?" Naitachal

sighed in regret. "Were it only a tiny bit stronger, I

could call his spirit to us and learn the truth."

"Necromancy!" Eliathanis spat,

"Oh, indeed." Kevin thought he caught the barest

hint of a sardonic smile from under that black hood.

"What was worked here." the Dark Elf continued soft-

ly, "was not the magic of my folk, nor yours, nor even

that of the humans. Not... quite, at any rate. Intrigu-

ing. But I can't pick up a clear enough trace for it to be

very helpful. What of you. White Elf?"

Eliathanis shook his head. "Whoever it was took

great pains to cover his tracks."

"His?"

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 67

"Or hers. Or even theirs. I can't be sure."

Lydia glanced from one elf to the other, then

shrugged. "We didn't expect things to be easy, did we?"

Bending to examine the ground, the woman gave a

soft laugh of triumph. "Maybe there aren't any clear

magical traces, but at least there is a physical track. See,

here's where Charina's palfrey bolted back to its stable.

But here... these are the tracks of a different horse.

Bigger... heavier ... maybe a destrier?" She swung

Uthely back into the saddle. "It has to be the horse the

kidnapper was riding. Look, the tracks are faint

enough as they are. Let's get going before something

destroys them altogether."

As the small party rode on out of field into scrubland

then forest, following an overgrown trail that must

originally have been cut by woodsmen, Kevin

wondered bitterly if he really mas the leader. Lydia was

doing the tracking, and the two elves had their magic to

help them, while he — he was nodung but an untried

bardling who didn't even know about —

Hey, wait a minute! "Naitachal?"

The Dark Elf had pushed back his hood as soon as

the first trees had screened off the sun- His fair hair

gleamed, startling bright against the darkness of skin

and clothing, as he brought his horse up beside

Kevin's. "Yes?"

Naitachal's eyes, disconcertingly, glinted red in the

dim light, sending echoes of every eerie tale he'd ever

heard flashing through Kevin's mind. Don't be stupid! he

scolded himself. He's an ally. For now, anyhow. "Were

you in the casde when the groom's body was brought

in?*"

**1 was," Naitachal said softly. "And yes, I did ask to be

allowed to examine it"

Eliathanis' keen elf ears caught that murmur. "To

work your spells on it, you mean!"

The Dark Elf smiled widiout rancor. "Exactly. I have

68 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Shennan

been well trained in the sorceries that can draw back

the dead. One would think Count Volmar would have

been anxious to learn anything that might have helped

him recover his niece. And yet I was refused."

"Not surprising,** the White Elf snapped. "He didn't

want anything tainted by Darkness in his castle."

"Ah, my touchy cousin-elf, you don't understand.

One would also think the groom would have been

buried with honor, having died defending his lady. But

there was no public burial, and even I have no idea

what became of his body."

Odd, Kevin admitted to himself uneasily, very odd.

But before he could continue chat thought, a small,

shrill voice called out:

"Here you are! It cook you long enough!"

With a laugh, Lydia reined in her horse. "Well, for-

give me, Tich'ki! You knew it was going to take some

dme! I went as fast as I could."

"A fairy!" Kevin cried.

"A human!" the fairy mocked in return. "My, my,

what a clever little boy!"

The bardling tried in vain not to stare. As with all her

kind, Tich'ki was small, barely coming up to his horse's

knee. She was undeniably female, an adult woman other

kind, almost beaudful in a sharp-edged, predatory wild

creature way. Her bright, sharply slanted eyes, green as

those of a White Elf, seemed enormous m her triangular

face, her hair was caught up in a tangle of auburn braids,

and even her irridescent wings seemed to have a

predatory glint to them, like those of a dragonfly.

She was, if half the stories about her kind were true,

just as likely to stab a human with that gleaming little

spear she bore as talk to one-

That didn't seem to bother Lydia. / never heard of any

human making friends with a fairy, Kevin thought. But

friends they did seem to be, or at least acquaintances.

"We're off on an adventure," the warrior woman said.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 69

"No-0," Tich'ki drawled, "really? I drought you were

just out for a ride in the woodland." Her green gaze

sharpened. "With a White and Dark Elf together, no

less. So, Lydia? Are you going to give me a hand up?"

"You — you're going with us?" Kevin asked, then

had to hold fast to his startled horse's reins as Tich'ki

darted upward in a blur and buzz of wings, landing

lightly behind the warrior woman-

"You going to stop me?"

" No, no, of course not It's just... well... I never knew

one of your people to be friendly with one of mine."

"No, and you're not likely to again."

Lydia laughed. "Tich'ki and me, we're a lot alike. Don't

like staying cooped up in one place too long. I first met her

when she was pinned down by a hunting hound."

"And I saved you later from the angry hunters."

Tich'ki gave the woman a sharp little pinch. "So don*t go

getting all superior." She squirmed about to stare at

Kevin with her hard green gaze- "That's it, boy. Lydia

and me, we sometimes travel together. But don't think

because I tolerate her, I have a love for all you humans."

"Ah." For a fairy to be out on her own like this, travellust

or no, could only mean she'd been cast out from her

people — possibly for associating with a mere human. Not

knowing what else to say, Kevin stammered, "Uh, wel-

come to our group. We're searching for die nieceof—**

"I know all that!" Tich'ki said impatiently, wings stir-

ring. "I have every bit as strong a scrying talent as those

hulking elf-men. The only reason I wasn't up there in

that castle with you is because I didn't want to get

stepped on by some clumsy lout of a human."

More likely, Kevin thought, the humans wouldn't let

such a perilous litde creature in!

Tich'ki settled herself more comfortably sidesaddle

behind Lydia, folding her wings, too small to ride

astride. "I want to find out what happened to that

simpering little girl, too."

70 Mercedes Lackey ^Jasepha Shennan

"She doesn't simper!" Kevin said hody, then stopped

shon at Tich'ki's sly grin. Too late, he remembered

another nasty litde trait about fairies: they delighted in

tormenting humans, one way or another. And I fell right

mtofiertrap.

"Now we are five," Naitachal murmured wryly.

Tich'ki glared. "And you'll be glad of it. Dark Elf! All

right, enough of this. Let's go!"

As they rode deeper into the forest, dense brush all

but engulfed the trail, forcing them to ride single file.

Thick canopies ofleaves shut out more and more of the

tight. At last, surrounded by dim green twilight, Lydia

swore under her breath and dismounted, peering at

the ground in disgust "Damn.*"

"What's wrong?" Kevin asked. "You've lost the

track?"

"No, no, the track's still there — I just can't see it in

all this gloom."

"Acorch—"

"Torches flicker too much, create too many distort-

ing shadows." She glanced up at the elves. "One of you

give me some nice, steady light"

Eliathanis hesitated, then admitted reluctandy, "I

can't I'm a warrior, not a magician. The only magic I

possess is that innate to my race."

"No light-spells, eh? Tich'ki, I know you don't have

any, either."

The fairy shrugged. "Can't know everything. Better

things to do with my time than waste it studying spells."

A fairy who wasn't too much of a magician? Kevin

had never heard of such a thing. Maybe that was why

she'd been cast out by her people.

Lydia was turning to Naitachal. "What about you,

Dark Elf?"

Naitachal's eyes glinted eerily in the darkness. "My

people have no need for tight-spells."

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 71

"Oh, great." Lydia got to her feet. "Might as well

make camp, then. We're not going anywhere."

"Wait" Heart radng, Kevin took out his lute, tuning

it carefully. One of the magical songs his Master had

taught him was known as the Watchwood Melody, and

its purpose was to create tight "I don't know if this is

going to work, but..."

He cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and

started to sing.

At first nothing happened. But halfway through the

melody, Kevin felt a tingle run through him, head to

foot Magic, he prayed, let it be magic...

And it was. For the first dme in all the weary years of

study hefeU the song, felt each syllable, each note, as a

separate wonder ringing in his mind. Listening to that

wonder, he slid more and more deeply into his

music... though he was vaguely aware of something

outside himself being different... the darkness... ?

Surely it wasn't quite as dark... ?

Powers! He and his lute were —glawmgl They were

actually glowing with a pale, steady light!

"Terrific!" Lydia yelled- "Keep it going, just like

that"

But all at once Kevin was terrified of what he had

done. A childish part of his mind jibbered that he

should stay what he'd been, ordinary, unimportant,

safe. The bardting's concentration slipped. His fingers

stumbled on the strings, breaking the spell. As the pale

light began to fade, his voice faltered to a stop. Kevin

slumped, suddenly so weary from (he energy loss of a

failed spell he could barely stay in the saddle.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Sorry!" Lydia echoed. "Thatwasamflzw^!"

"No, it wasn't. If I'd done it right, the light would

have lasted even after I stopped singing."

"Well, never mind," the woman said cheerfully.

"You'll get it right next dme."

72 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Sherman

Kevin clenched his jaws before he could say something

he'd regret The last thing he wanted right now was to be

patronized, even by someone who meant weB.

What VMS Ilrymg to provef I couldn't hold onto even the

simplest song-spell. Fin not a Bard. Maybe I never will be.

At least the two elves weren't trying to be kind. But it

didn't help to hear Tich'ki chortling to herself, "Just like a

human! Disappointed because he's been de-lighted!"

Once the party had fed and watered the horses, and

picketed them in a line, and eaten a dinner of cold meat

and bread, there wasn't much else to do. Kevin tried to

start a conversation with the others, but nobody else

seemed to want to talk. He sat back, disgrunded. This

camp was hardly like those in the old songs: those

songs in which a cheery group of comrades on the road

gathered beneath the stars. If there were stars, they

were totally hidden by the roof of leaves. And except

for Lydia and Tich'ki, the comrades were strangers to

each other, and not in a very cheery mood.

Naitachal sat as silendy as a black-wrapped statue, a

darker part of the night just outside the ring of

firelight. Eliathanis, polishing his silvery elf-sword with

slow, methodical strokes, light glinting off the blade

with each upstroke, was almost as silent, though he

kept shooting wary, hostile glances at the Dark Elf.

Kevin attempted a few practice scales on his lute, not

daring to try any magic lest it fail, just keeping his

fingers limber. But he gave up after Tich'ki sneered

every time he missed a note. And Lydia prowled round

and round their camp like some cautious wild thing

until the bardling couldn't stand it any longer.

"Whatan? you doing?"

"Checking," came the short answer, "just checking.

Don't like the idea of something sneaking up on us

without us having some way out"

"Nothing lurks out there." Naitachal's soft voice

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 73

made everyone start. "Nothing living." With superb

timing, the Dark Elf waited till the others had a chance

to imagine undead horrors before adding lightly,

"Except, of course, for the small, normal creatures of

the forest."

"Oh, thank you," Lydia muttered.

Naitachal glanced up as the woman passed him in

her drclings. "There is a rather large skeleton under

the leaves just to your left. It was a wolf, I believe, and it

is still in fairiy good condition. If you wish, Lydia, I can

summon it up to stand guard."

She gave him a look of sheer horror. **Uh, no, that

won't be necessary. I — "

"We will have none of your foul sorceries!"

Eliathanis' sword glinted in his hand.

"You melodramatic fool." Naitachal's voice was

quiedy deadly. "Don't ever point a weapon at me. Not

unless you intend to use it."

"Push me too far, Dark Elf, and I will."

"Go ahead, White Elf- Try."

«I_"

"Stop that!" Kevin snapped, and both elves turned

to him in surprise. "You sound like little boys daring

each other to fight! Look, I know you two don't like

each other, but we're stuck with each other. For the

sake of our mission, can't you declare a truce?"

Eliathanis frowned sternly.' 41 is not in elf natures to lie."

"Well then at least pivtend\ And you, Lydia, will you

please stop paring? Naitachal told you there's nothing

dangerous out there. We have three Faerie-kin here

and five horses; surely one of them will be able to warn

us ifanything's approaching." He glared at them all.

"Is that all right with everyone? Yes? Fine! And now,

goodnight!"

There was startled silence. Amazed at his own bold-

ness, Kevin wrapped himself in a blanket, turned away,

and curled up to sleep.

74 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherrnan

I didn't mean to explode like that. But I couldn't stand lis-

tening to that stupid bickering any longer! Charina would

have laughed and said —

Charina, who might not even still be alive. Kevin

swallowed hard. You are alwe. I — 7 know it, Charina. You

areaiwe. And we'll/ind you, I promise.

Bit by bit, he managed to relax. All around him was

quiet, save for the peaceful chirpings and rustlings of a

forest at night, soothing sounds...

But just as the bardling was drifting off, timed to

exactly the right moment to annoy him the most,

Tich'ki murmured, "Cute little puppy dog. Thinks he

has fangs!"

Kevin sat bolt upright. The fairy was watching him

from beyond the banked campfire, her green eyes the

eyes of a sly predator. As he stared, she smiled. "Sleep

well," Tich'ki whispered, and blew him a kiss.

Kevin woke, disoriented, somewhere in the small

hours of the night There, just barely visible in the dark-

ness, were Naitachal and Tich'ki, talking softly together

in the elvish tongue as though they were old friends.

But as though they felt him watching them, they

turned as one- Two pairs of alien eyes, glowing eerily,

looked at him, sending a shiver through the bardling at

the thought that the darkness was no barrier to them.

Why had they been whispering together? The Dark Elf

and the perilous fairy: what could they be plotting?

Kevin swallowed drily, trying to find an innocuous way

to ask them, but before he could open his mouth,

Naitachal murmured:

"Go back to sleep, Kevin."

A trace of sorcery must have hidden behind the

simple words, because for all his sudden worry, Kevin

found himself sliding helplessly back into slumber.

Chapter VII

"Oh, hell," Lydia said.

For two full days they had been riding through

forest so dense Kevin thought that any one of them

could have followed the track- The trail had been so

overgrown a horse's body could hardly have kept from

breaking telltale branches; there had been no way for

the kidnapper to avoid leaving a track, let alone to

leave the trail. But the forest had been thinning for

some dme as the land grew increasingly more rocky.

And now they had broken out of forest altogether.

The trail melted into a series of paths and one true road

winding their way through a limestone wilderness, a

time-eroded maze of tall, gray-white stone walls.

"Are we out of luck?" Kevin asked.

Lydia shrugged. "Can't follow a trace over solid rock!

Still, it's notall rock...."

She dismounted, searching with her face so dose to

the ground that the bardling was reminded of a hunt-

ing hound searching for an elusive scent.

"Yes..." the woman said at last. "This way. I think.**

They rode on, following the road, the only sounds

the creak of saddle leather and the dick of their horses'

hoofs against stone. Kevin glanced at Lydia, not at all

happy about the uncertainty he saw on her face.

The walls of the gorge towered over them as they

rode, weighing down his spirit. Staring up at the nar-

row slash of sky, Kevin couldn't shake the sense of

being a very small, insignificant creature in the middle

of a very small, insignificant party- Now that he wasn't

76 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

so overwhelmed by the mere thought of adventure, he

had to admit that five... ah... beings hardly seemed a

big enough group to have any hope of success. Yet if

the count had sent out any larger expeditions, the

bardling hadn't seen any sign of them.

I don't understand thai. 1 don't understand any oftfas! We

don't even know/or sure that whoever -we'refollowing actually

hasCharma!

Kevin sighed. None of his doubts were going to mat-

ter if he couldn't hold his team together long enough to

accomplish something.

Team, ha! The last thing they were was a team. Oh,

everyone was nicely polite to each other — if you

ignored the subtle snipings of White and Dark Elf at

each other, or the jibes ofLydia at these silly males, or

the nasty little jokes of the fairy.

The bardling gritted his teeth. Tich'ki seemed to have

decided he was the best butt for her humor she'd ever

seen. She never said anything out-and-out hostile. Oh

no, that would have been too simple! Instead, the fairy

would wait till he'd finished practicing a particularly dif-

ficult melody on his lute, then ask innocently, "Are you

going to actually play something now?" Or worse:

"When are you going to work some Bardic Magic?"

knowing he was too scared of failure to risk trying

another spell- Or perhaps she would simply wonder

aloud what it was like co be a leader when he hadn't really

had a chance to be one. Anything, Kevin thought, to

undermine what litde self-confidence he had left!

The only two who did seem to be getting along were

Naitachal and Tich'ki. After that first night, Kevin was

still keeping a wary eye on those two, but so far they

hadn't done anything even remotely suspicious.

Except... last night, there had been that bizarre

whatever-it-had-been. Kevin frowned, remembering

how he had caught the Dark Elf and the fairy huddling

together mysteriously, so involved in what they were

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 77

doing they hadn't even noticed him. The bardling had

gotten close enough to hear Tich'ki urge, "Try it

again." And Naitachal had actually responded with,

"Pick a card, any card."

At that moment, they'd spotted him. The Dark Elf

had suddenly straightened, looking important and

mysterious, but Kevin could have sworn Naitachat was

embarrassed. And hadn't he caught a glimpse of

Tich'ki hastily hiding a fairy-size deck of cards?

Card tricks? A necromancer learning card tricks?

It made about as much sense as anything else so far.

"We're not still on Count Volmar's lands, are we?"

Kevin asked warily-

"Hardly." Lydia glanced up at the sky, judging direc-

tion. "I'm pretty sure we're on the outskirts of crown

lands. If we keep riding east like this, we'll probably

wind up in the dty ofWesterin."

"If we get that far." Eliathanis glanced up at the

steep, brooding walls on either side, his usually

unreadable eyes glittering with uneasiness." I don't like

this place. Anyone could be lurking up there."

"Claustrophobic el0" Tich'ki taunted. "Scared of the

shadows in his mind!"

The White Elf glared at her. "I'm not imagining

things! Westerin is an important trading city, is it not?

Thanks to the rocks, this must surely be one of the only

roads available for anyone who wishes to reach the city

from the west. What better place for an ambush?"

"Don't say something like that!" Lydia snapped. "It's

bad—"

A savage shout from overhead cut into her words.

" — luck," she finished ironically, whipping out her

sword.

Kevin didn't have a chance to act, to think, before a

heavy body hurtled into him, hurting him from his horse.

My lute!

The bardling twisted frantically sideways to save it as

78 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Sherman

he fell, by luck slamming into earth rather than rock,

mail shirt bruising his ribs. Aching and breathless, Kevin

struggled to draw his sword, handicapped by the lute

case's strap. The bandit's face leered into his own, foul-

smelling and ugly as an ogre—and as deadly. Kevin saw

the man raise the dub that was going to bash out his

brains, but he couldn't get the stupid sword free —

So the bardling did the only thing he could, smash-

ing his fist up into the ugly face.

Ow!0h—damn!

He hadn't been able to get much force into the blow,

not tying sprawled on the ground, but it was enough to

send pain flaming up his arm, because he'd connected

with the man's battered helmet, not his face. The ban-

dit grunted in surprise, falling back just enough for the

bardling to wriggle free. He squirmed out of the lute

case, leaving the instrument safe — please, let it be safe!

—behind a rock.

As Kevin frantically tugged at the hilt of his sword,

the weapon came free of its scabbard so suddenly he

nearly dropped it Hearing the bandit rushing him, the

bardling whirled — and the man impaled himself on

the blade.

For what seemed like an eternity Kevin stared help-

lessly into his foe's disbelieving eyes, too horrified to

move. Then those eyes glazed and the bandit slowly

sagged, nearly dragging the sword from Kevin's hand.

The bardling swallowed hard and pulled the blade

free, trying not to look at the blood darkening it, trying

not to think about how dreadfully easily metal had slid

into flesh. His hand still throbbed with pain, and part of

his mind was yammering, It's broken, it has to be broken!

But it wasn't, not if he could grip the Sword hilt so tight-

ly, and there wasn't any time to worry about what other

damage he might have done.

Panting, Kevin glanced wildly about. For one con-

fused moment he was reminded of a dog pack

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 79

dragging down its prey. But these dogs were armed

with clubs, knives, and homemade spears — and this

prey was fighting back. Lydia, swearing fiercely, sword

Hashing, still sat her horse, caking advantage of its

greater height, or trying to: the confused, frightened

animal, unused to batde, was more of a hindrance than

a help. At least its frantic whirling and kicking kept

anyone from closing with the woman- Tich'ki, her

wings a blur, darted in and out of the battle with

waspish speed, her spear jabbing savagely at bandit

eyes. The two elves had given up their mounts and

stood fighting back to back. White and Dark forgetting

their differences for the moment- Eliathanis' blade

shone dear silver, mere human blood unable to stain it,

while Naitachal —

Kevin stared. Naitachal was wielding a night-black

sword that seemed to swallow up the light and that

laughed softly every time it struck a foe. After the first

few blows, the bandits, understandably, cringed away,

putting themselves within Lydia's reach.

He didn't have that sword before, I know he didn 't!

But the sight of that eerie sorcery reminded the bar-

dling that he, too, had some combat magic. Granted,

the song-spell wasn't strong enough to hurt anyone.

All it could do was confuse a foe's attack. But surely that

would help — if the magic would only work for him-

No, no, there wasn't time to doubt! Kevin dove for

his lute, for a moment terrified that his bruised hand

wasn't going to let him play. Forcing his stiff fingers

over the strings, he started at full speed into the open-

ing bars. His voice was almost too dry for song, rasping

out desperately, and he knew that even if he did sum-

mon his Bardic Magic, it wasn't going to last long. It

didn't even seem to be coming out right! But some-

thing was happening, because the whole battle was

beginning to glow a faint but very real blue.

Oh, great. AH I'm domg is makingpretty colors!

80 Mavedes Lackey ^Josephs Sherman

"Damned sorcerer!" a voice muttered. Before Kevin

could turn, a harsh arm was about his throat, choking

him. The bardling lost his grip on the lute, heard it hit

the ground —

Please, please, don't let it break!

He kicked back and felt his boot hit bone. The bandit

swore, losing his strangling grip. Kevin felt a jolt

against his already sore ribs as the man tried to stab him

but hit the mail shirt instead. The bardling pulled free,

lunging for his sword, then cried out in pain as che ban-

dit kicked it viciously away, tearing the hilt from Kevin*s

aching hand. The sword came to rest wedged between

two rocks. Kevin and the bandit both scuffled after it,

but the bandit got there first, stomping down hard. Tb

the bardling's horror, the sword snapped halfway up

the blade.

For a moment. Kevin and his foe stared at each

other, frozen. Then the bandit slowly grinned, reveal-

ing a mouthful of ugly Eeech.

"Too bad, boy. I win, you lose!"

With that, the man leaped at him. Kevin scrambled

to his feet, looking frantically about for another

weapon. Out of the corner of his eye, the bardling saw

the bandit's knife flash again, this time aimed at his

unprotected neck. He twisted about, just barely

managing to catch the man's wrist in dme.

But I... can't... hold fwn... he's just ...too strong...

The bandit continued to grin. Slowly he began

bending the bardling's wrists back and back... Kevin

gasped as renewed pain shot through his bruised

hand, and lost his grip. The knife began its plunge —

But then the bandit froze as a dark-skinned hand

dosed on his neck. The man's eyes widened, gaping in

sudden blind horror. As Kevin stared in sheer disbelief,

he saw the man's hair fade from black to gray to white.

The leathery skin sagged, wrinkled. The bandit let the

bardling go so suddenly Kevin fell, dragging himself

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 81

frantically away as what had been a living man a

moment before crumbled to ancient dust

Naitachal stood revealed, eyes still blazing red from

the force of his spell. But in those eerie eyes, Kevin saw

such bitter despair that for a moment the bardling

could do nothing but stare in helpless fascination.

Then, with a quick flip of his wrist, me Dark Elf pulled

up the hood of his black cloak, hiding his face.

Only then did Kevin realize what was happening

around them. That last horrific sorcery had been coo

much for what was left of the bandit gang. Yelling in

terror, they fled back down the gorge. Lydia started to

knee her horse after them, then reined the animal in

again.

"Nah," she muttered. "Not worth it. Everyone all

right?"

Tich'ki fluttered to a landing behind Lydia. Cleaning

her spear with a scrap of cloth from a bandit's tunic, she

grinned fiercely. "No problems here."

"I am unhurt." Eliathanis was disheveled, golden

hair wild, cloak gashed and elven mail darkly stained,

but his voice was as calmly formal as ever.

"And I," added Naitachal softly. "What of you,

Kevin?"

The bardling snatched up his fallen lute, examining

it carefully, then let out a sigh of relief. "It's only

scratched a little."

"Yes, bardling, but what of you? I saw how carefully

you moved your hand."

Reaction set in, as abrupdy as though the words had

been a spell. Kevin clutched the lute to him. trying to

hide his sudden trembling, realizing only now how

narrowly he'd escaped permanently damaging his

fingers. Powers, oh Powers, Master Aidan had been

right to warn him. He'd come so close to ending his

Bardic career before it had started....

"It's nothing," the bardling said gruffly. 'Just a

82 Mercedes Lackey WJosepha Sherman

bruise." He retrieved what was left of his sword, glanc-

ing ruefully at the fragments, then slipping them back

into their scabbard. "C-come on, let's get out of here

before the bandits recover."

"They're not going to recover so quickly!" Tich'ki

jeered, pointing with her spear at crumpled bodies.

"But the boy's right. Let's go."

"Wait," Eliathanis said softly, approaching the Dark

Elf. Naitachal stiffened, murmuring something in the

elvish tongue that was plainly a wary question, but the

White Elf shook his head. "No. Let the humans under-

stand this as well. Naitachal, I have always believed that

theNithatkUi, the Dark Elves, hated life, that they cared

nothing for any but themselves."

"Well?"

"You had no need to risk yourself guarding my back.

Yet you did. You had no need to risk yourself saving the

bardling. Yet you did."

"What are you laying to say, Eliathanis?"

"Just that I..." The fair skin reddened. "I may have

been too hasty in judging you."

He held out a hand. The Dark Elf hesitated for a

long moment, then raised his own hand. As they

pressed palm to palm in the elvish version of a hand-

shake, Tich'ki snickered.

"Touching," she said. "Now. can we please get going?"

A lilting call in the elvish language coaxed the

strayed horses back to them. As they rode off, Kevin

resolutely refused to look at the dissipating mound of

dust that had been a hvmg man.

To the bardling's relief, the gorge widened again

after a short time of uneasy riding, the stone walls

dropping off into a tangle of greenery. Dazed by shock

and exhaustion, he sank into a weary stupor, clinging

bhndly to the saddle, barely aware of the world around

him.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 83

"Hey, Kevin! Kevin!"

Lydia was calling him. The bardling roused himself,

realizing with a start that night had stolen up on them.

They were stopped in the middle of a small meadow,

their horses grabbing greedily at the lush weeds and

grass. "We're stopping for the night?"

**I think that's a good idea, boy, don't you?"

Oh, he did, indeed.

Lydia, experienced traveller and adventurer that

she was, carried a pouch of healing herbs with which

she treated everyone's cuts and bruises, including the

bardling's sore hand.

"Now let's try to get some sleep," she ordered after

they'd finished a brief meal of cold rabbit and stale

bread. "It's been one hell of a tiring day!"

But for all his weariness, Kevin couldn't sleep. He

kept seeing death, and blood, and a man dying on the

point of his sword, another man withering to dust....

At last he moved away from the others to sit wrapped in

darkness without and within.

After a time a shadow stirred: Naicachal, moving

silently to join him.

"What's wrong, Kevin?" the Dark Elf asked softly.

"Nothing. I just can't sleep."

"You're still thinking of the battle, aren't you?"

"No — Yes — " The bardling broke off with a choked

little gasp. "Naitachal, t-this isn't going to mean much to

you, I mean you're a Dark Elf and a necromancer, you're

used to death and all that, but I... killed a man today."

"So you did."

Kevin stiffened at the casual reply. "That really

doesn't mean anything to you, does it?"

"Oh, it does." It was the barest whisper. " I cannot

remember the first time I was forced to take a life. But 1

have never totally forgotten the horror of it"

"You c-can't remember? How could you not

remember—"

84 Mercedes Lackey S^Josepha Shenwcn

"Kevin, I don't know how much you know of my

people. Humans tell some truly bizarre stories about

the NitfwthiK, those you call the Dark Elves. But one

thing they say of us is quite true: we are indeed raised

without love, without anything that might weaken us. I

was singled out eariy in my childhood as one who held

sorcerous promise. That means only one thing to the

NithatfaU. For all the years of my life I have studied dark

magic, the magic of death. Necromancy, as you call it-

But ... ah. Powers, I am so very weary of it!"

Kevin glanced at the Dark Elfin surprise. "Then I

was right, wasn*t I? You were every bit as horrified as I

was when that bandit died from — from age."

"When I killed him, you mean? That life-draining

spell is called Archahai Necrawch, Spectre Touch in your

language." Naitachal shuddered, ever so faintly. "It is a

very dark thing, indeed. But there wasn't much time to

act, not with that knife about to slay you, and I couldn't

think of any other way to save you."

"You had a... sword."

"A Death Sword, Kevin, a temporary thing drawn

from sorcery's heart. You heard its joy in taking life, did

you not? That soft and empty laughter? I couldn't run

the risk of even scratching you with it."

Hearing the bitter self-loathing in the Dark Elf's

voice, the bardling cried, "I don't understand! If you

don't want to work death-spells, why do it? Why not try

something else?"

"There is nothing else, not for one of my kind. Not

yet, at any rate," the Dark Elf added softly. "I meant it

when I told you 1 intended to prove my people had

nothing to do with the stealing of Count Volmar's

niece- Love or hate, they are my people. But I have no

intention of ever returning to them."

"What will you do?"

"Aye, bardling! I don't know, not yet." Naitachal

paused. "You don't know how I envy you."

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 85

"Me?"

"You know what you want from life. You have the joy

that is your music, and with it, the promise of bright,

happy, living magic."

"I don't understand! Surely your people have music,

too? I mean, they're elves, and I thought all elves — **

"We are not like the other elven races. We alone have

no music."

"No music! B-but that's terrible!"

"Oh, it is. Listening to your songs, bardling, has been

untold delight for me." The Dark Elf gave a soft, rueful

laugh. "Ay me. Here I try to help you, and end up tell-

ing you my problems instead 1"

Kevin blinked, all at once realizing that somewhere

during this strange conversation, the specter of the

bandit he'd killed had ceased to haunt him. "You haw

helped."

"Misery loving company, eh?" Whatever else he

might be, Naicachal was still Dark Elf enough to be

ashamed of showing weakness. "Ah, enough of this!"

he said abrupdy, getting to his feet. "The night is late,

boy. Go get some sleep."

But then Naitachal paused, teeth flashing in a sud-

den grin. "And if you tell anyone about this

conversation," he said, a touch too lightly, "I shall deny

it all!"

Chapter Vin

Something damp was hitting his face. For a sleepy

moment, Kevin thought he was bade in the castle, with

the squires playing one of their pranks on him. He

opened his eyes with a cry of:

"Will you stop— "

"The rain?" Lydia cut in wryly. "Don't think any of us

can manage that**

Kevin sat up in dismay, clutching his cloak about

him. It wasn't much of a rain, more of a light but

persistent drizzle. "But it's going to wash away the

tracks!"

"Probably. Let's get going, boy. I want to get as far as

we can before that happens."

Gathering up his damp belongings, the bardling

muttered, "It never rains in the songs." At least the day

wasn't cold, but the ride was still going to be an

unpleasant one.

He hadn't guessed just how unpleasant As though

the previous day had never happened, the two elves

began bristling towards each other once more. And

Naitachal showed not the slightest sign of the lonely,

music-hungry soul of the night before.

I give up! Kevin thought. I just give up!

Of course the weather had a good deal to do with

deteriorating tempers. Kevin knew that. Not that such

wisdom helped him any. Discovering that even a rela-

tively lightweight mail shirt became incredibly

uncomfortable when wet, the bardling had to keep a

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 87

tight rein on anything he said, particularly when

Tich'ki made some waspish remark.

She can't help u, he forced himself to accept

The fairy, after all, had to be the most uncomfortable of

them all, constandy fluttering her wings in a vain attempt

to keep them dry- No wonder she was snapping at elf and

human indiscriminately! Too waterlogged for flight, she

must fed frighteningly helpless.

Lydia, meanwhile, fairly radiated angry frustration,

bent nearly double over her horse, muttering under

her breath as she hunted for the rapidly fading trail

It didn't help uncertain tempers to realize that they

were almost out of supplies for people and horses both.

Granted, the animals would probably be able to find

enough forage to keep them going, but it wasn't going

to be much fun hunting for game in this weather.

At least, Kevin thought, struggling for any sign of

good humor, the drizzle did seem to be letting up. Who

knew? Maybe the sun would even deign to put in an

appearance and dry everybody off.

But even as the first feeble rays did at last break

through the clouds, Lydia threw up her hands in dis-

gust "That does it"

"I take it the rain washed away the cracks?" Naitachal

asked.

"Hell, no! They aren't washed away, they simply dis-

appear, just like that! As though horse and rider, up

and vanished into the air." Lydia let out her breath in

an angry hiss. "I've had trails go cold on me before, but

I've never had onejust — stop!"

"Wonderful," Tich'ki said flatly. "Now what?"

What, indeed? After a moment, Kevin began, "I

think—"

"We're going to have to go on to Westerin," Lydia

said, just as if he wasn't there.

Eliathanis shook his head. "There's no evidence they

rode that way."

88 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Shennan

"There's no evidence they didn't! Besides, the horses

need grain, and a hot meal and a bath wouldn't hurt

any of us, either."

"Ah, I think — " Kevin began again, but Naitachal

cut in:

"Lydia has a point. We would be more likely to leam

something important in a dty than out here in the mid-

dle of open country."

"That's a human city!" Eliathanis snapped. "How

willingly do you think they're going to admit a Dark

Elf?"

Naitachal shrugged. "About as willingly as they

would a White Elfin these uncertain days. But our

cloaks are hooded, after all. No one need know our

races, as long as we're careful."

"Huh! No one's going to bother a fairy!" Tich'ki

boasted.

"No one's going to bother vfith a fairy!" Lydia cor-

rected with a grin. "Not a little thing like you!"

"Little, is it?" Tich'ki pinched Lydia so hard the

woman jumped. "Little, is it?"

"Well, you ore little —Aie, stop that! I apologize!"

"Hey. remember me?" the bardling asked. "I've got

some say in this, too, and I—"

"This is nonsense." Eliathanis shook his head again,

stubbornly. "I think we should continue to search out

here."

"Search what?" Lydia exploded. "I tell you, there isn't

the slightest due. There isn't even the slightest trace of a

clue! In the city, it'll be a different matter. Give *em

enough money, and we'll be able to bribe nearly

anyone to tell us whatever we need to know."

The White Elf straightened, staring at her as though

she'd uttered an obscenity. "Humans lie," he said

shordy." How much truth do you think you will get out

of anyone who can be bought?"

"He's scared," Tich'ki taunted. "Poor elfis scared the

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 89

humans will throw things at him. Dirty his pretty face."

Eliathanis took a furious swipe at her, but the fairy,

fluttering heavily because of her still-damp wings, soil

managed to evade him, mocking him with, "Temper,

temper!"

"Stop that, Tich'ki!" Lydia caught one small foot and

pulled the fairy back down behind her on the horse. "I

say we go to Westerin."

"And I," Naitachal voted.

"Me, too." Tich'ki grinned sharply. "I lake human

dues. So many folks careless with their belongings. So

many... opportunities."

"Huh," Lydia muttered. "Just don't get us thrown

into prison."

"Have I ever?"

"Yes!"

The fairy ruffled her wings. "Thought you'd forgot-

ten all about that- It wasn't wy fault the gems fell into

your pouch!"

"Oh no. The pouch just happened to come open at

just the right time,"

"Well... it might have had a litde help..."

"And it's not going to have any more help! If I find

your fingers anywhere near that pouch, Tich'ki, I

swear I'll cut 'cm off!"

"Spoilsport."

"I sure hope so! What about you, Eliathanis? Are

you with us or not?"

After a reluctant moment, the White Elf nodded.

"Not that it will do any good."

"Hey!" Kevin shouted with all his breath, and the

others stared at him as though seeing him for the first

time- "Remember me? I get some say in this, too!"

"All right, Kevin," Lydia said, a litde too cheerfully. As

though she's hwnormg a chM! Kevin fumed. "What do you

say?"

What could he say? No matter what Count Volmar

90 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

had said, Kevin knew he certainly wasn't the leader of

this group! "I say," the bardling grumbled, "we go to

Westerin."

Kevin reined in his horse without even being aware

he'd done it, staring in sheer wonder.

"Westerin," he breathed.

Oh, he had been taught his geography as a child. He

knew that the walled city lay at the junction of two trad-

ing routes, on a wide, fertile plain fed by a tranquil

river. But hearing about it and actually seeing it were

two very different things! Westerm was a beautifully

picturesque sight beneath the dramatically cloudy sky,

the thick, crenellated wall that girded it broken at

regular intervals by pointed towers topped in bronze

that gleamed like gold in the shifting rays of sunlight.

The city was also much larger than the bardling had

ever imagined —no, no, he thought, it wasn't merely

iarge, it was enormoits\

Particularly, Kevin added wryly to himself, com-

pared to quiet little Bracklin.

The others were riding on. The bardling urged his

horse after them. trying to ignore Tich'ki's mocking,

"Boy acts like he's never seen a dty before."

Well, all right, maybe he hadn't! What of it?

With an indignant sniff, Kevin straightened in the

saddle, doing his best to pretend there was nothing at

all amazing about those thick stone walls towering over

them as they approached, nothing at all amazing about

the mass of buildings he glimpsed through the open

gates.

But for all his attempts at keeping calm, the

bardling's heart had begun pounding wildly.

Westerm. Westerin!

Why, the very name rang with adventure!

Chapter IX

Despite Eliathanis' worries, they had no trouble at an

getting into Westerin. In fact, the dty guards hardly

glanced their way, waving the party inside with bored

indifference.

Kevin struggled to copy that indifference. But how

could he possibly keep from gawking? The street up

which they were riding was wide enough to hold them

easily even if they had been riding abreast And it was

paved with cobblestones! Only the innkeeper of the

Blue Swan back in Bracklin had been able to afford

those expensive things.

And how could Kevin not stare at all the buildings?

He'd never seen so many in one place. He'd never

dreamed so many could exist! They seemed to have

been set out helter-skelter, as though each owner had

put his house wherever he wanted it, without worrying

about how the whole thing was going to look. The

casual jumble of buildings created a maze of smaller

streets branching out in all directions.

Kevin shook his head in confusion. Not only was

there no pattern to the way the buildings were laid out,

no two houses looked alike. Some of those he glimpsed

were small, low to the ground, looking somehow meek

amid all ihe busde, of the homey, watde-and-daub sort

familiar to him from Bracklin, even if their roofs here

were of red tile rather than thatch. Other houses were

eccentrically painted half-timbered buildings, their

upper stories leaning drunkenly together over their

narrow streets, only wooden props keeping them

92 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sfwnnan

apart. Kevin gave up trying to be aloof and stared

openly when he saw a row of out and out mansions of

beautifully worked stone, some of them, amazingly,

three or four stories high.

And the people! There must be thousands here

inside the encircling city walls, all of them speaking a

jumble of languages. Their tunics and gowns and

cloaks were a dazzling confusion of colors: red, blue,

gold, even some hues he couldn't name.

And despite the White Elf's uneasiness, not all those

folks were human. In one block alone. Kevin saw two

haughty, elegant White Elves stride arrogantly by,

acting as though humans didn*t even exist, a couple of

more relaxed people whose not-quite human features

and ever so slightly pointed ears revealed them as half-

elven, three hulking guards who almost certainly were

nearly full-blooded ogres, even a pair ofArachnia

dressed in priestly robes, chittering together in a lan-

guage that seemed made up only of consonants.

Rows of shops lined the street, and the air rang with

the cries of merchants bawling out their wares in half a

dozen dialects. The bardling ached to examine the pile

of scrolls one dealer offered, or the harps and lutes

hanging in another booth, but he didn't dare let the

rest of his party get too far ahead. He'd never be able to

find them again in this crowd!

"It stinks," Eliathanis muttered.

Well, maybe it did, of animal and cooking oil and too

many people of all sorts crowded in together, but over-

whelmed by wonder as he was, Kevin hardly minded.

Lydia unerringly led the way to a livery stable, a well-

kept place warm with the friendly smells of horses and

hay.

"Smells better than the city," the White Elf muttered.

"Stop complaining." As Kevin dismounted, the

woman asked in an undertone, "Before we start spend-

ing: you do have the bribe money with you, don't you?"

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 93

The bardling started to pat the purse Count Volmar

had given him, but Lydia caught his hand in an angry

grip. "Don't be a fool! You want to bring every thief in

town down on us?"

Stung, he straightened. "I am not a fool."

But Lydia, bargaining with the stablekeep, ignored

him. Only after she was finished, and she and the stolid

man had shaken on the deal. did she turn back to

Kevin.

"I don't like the idea of you wandering around

without a weapon. The first thing we do, kid, is get you

a new sword." She glanced at the elves. "We'll be back

as soon as we can, okay?"

They nodded. Lydia grinned.

"Come on, Kevin."

As they stepped back out onto the streets of

Westerin, the bardling was overwhelmed — and this

time not by wonder- While he'd been up on a horse's

back, he'd been raised up out of the worst of it, but now

the crowd surrounded him like a noisy, smelly ocean

trying to drown him.

"This way," Lydia called, and he struggled after her.

After the first few "Excuse me's" and "Pardon me*s,"

Kevin gave up and pushed and shoved his way like

everybody else, elbows jabbing his ribs and feet tromp-

ing on his toes- City life might be exciting, but he

guessed it wasn't so glamorous after all!

"Looks like a likely place," Lydia noted.

Kevin frowned, puzzled. The only indication that

this might be a weaponry shop was the sign creaking

back and forth over the door, roughly painted with a

weather-worn picture of crossed swords. Ah, of course!

With all the different races in Westerin, who knew how

many of them could actually read the common tongue

— or read at all? But anyone could figure out what a

simple picture meant!

He followed Lydia inside, and found himself in a

94

Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sfierman

small, crowded room, facing a counter piled with a

staggering variety of knives. Behind the counter a cur-

tained doorway presumably led to a storeroom, and

axes and swords and the occasional shield — its surface

left blank so it could be painted with a customer's coat-

of-arms — covered most of the walls.

"What can I do for ya?" a rough but undeniably

female voice asked.

Kevin jumped. He could have sworn the room was

empty except for Lydia and himself.

"Down here, boy."

He looked. The look became a stare.

A woman she most certainly was, but one who barely

came to his waist —and who was definitely not of

human-kind. Buxom and brawny, she was almost as

wide around as she was tall, but Kevin suspected that

little of that roundness was fat. Her flat, high-cheek-

boned face was no longer young, and gray streaked the

red braids coiled in an intricate knot on her head, but

she looked about as fragile as a boulder.

"I'm Grakka, owner of this place." The woman

stopped with an amused snort. "What's the matter,

boy? Never seen a dwarfbefore?"

"I... uh... no. I mean, yes. I mean, one of your race

stopped in Bracklin once, my — my village. But he was

a/^! And all the songs say—"

"That dwarves only come in one kind: male?" She

gave a sharp bark of a laugh. "Where'd ya think we

came from? Jumped up outa rocks all full-grown? Bah,

humans! Va come to gawk, boy, or to buy?"

"To buy," Lydia said. "The kid needs a new weapon."

Kevin shook the fragments of the broken sword out

of the scabbard. "Can you fix this?"

"What d'ya take me for, a miracle-worker?** Grakka

lifted the broken blade to the light, squinting along its

length. "Piece a* junk."

"A count gave it to me!"

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 95

"Then his armorer's been cheating him." She pulled

aside the curtain, yelling into the back of the store,

"Elli! Yo, EUi\ Wake up, girl, we got customers! Get me

the rack ofone-handers — Yeah, that's the one."

A slightly smaller figure staggered out with an

armload of swords, which she dropped on the counter

with a clatter. Kevin stared all over again, but this time

in appreciation.

Elli was almost certainly Grakka's daughter, but even

though the bardling couldn't deny she was almost as

squat and powerfully built as her mother, she was still

as pretty in her own nonhuman way as any girl in

Bracklin. Her eyes were big and blue, sparkling with

mischief as she looked at him, her nose was pertly up-

turned, and her long yellow braids curved smoothly

down her simple blue tunic and skirt and the curves of

her buxom young body in a way that made Kevin swal-

low hard.

He froze in panic as she swayed that curvy body to

his side.

"I'm Elli. But you already know that. What's your

name?"

"I — I — I'm... uh... Kevin."

"Uh-Kevin?" she teased.

"N-no.Just Kevin."

"That's a nice name." She fixed her big blue eyes on

his face. "Do you think my name is nice, too?"

ttT ___ »

"Elli!" her mother snapped, "Stop bothering the boy.

You, boy, come here."

Elli flounced away, pouting deliriously. Sheepishly,

Kevin went up to the counter. "Here," Grakka said

shortly. "Try this."

Kevin looked at the sword in dismay. "It's so..."

"Plain?" Grakka finished. "Pretty never won battles.

Go ahead. Try it out."

Kevin took a few practice swings, then tried an

96 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Sherman

experimental pass or two. He straightened, smiling. "I

like it. It feels... right."

"Good. Because from what your warrior buddy here

tells me, there's no dme to design a sword specially for

you." She gave him a speculative glance. "Too bad. It's

always a challenge to make a sword that'll be useful for

a reasonable while for you younglings who are still

changing build almost every day." Grakka shrugged.

"Ah well, some other time. That'll be five gold crowns."

"Five..."

"Go wait outside," Lydia murmured to him. "1*11 take

care of this."

Kevin knew that an adventurer as professional as

Lydia would know how to bargain much better than

someone from a small town. But that didn't stop him

from feeling a surge of annoyance at being sent away

like a little boy.

"Hi, Kevin," a voice purred.

"Uh,hi,EllL"

She smiled up at him as brightly as a sunny day. "I

have to spend all my time in this dull old place. I never

get to go anywhere. But an adventurer like you must

have seen all ants of wonderful things."

Westerinrfaff?

"I, uh ... " Kevin wasn't about to confess the truth

about Bracklin and his drab life to this lovely creature.

"Sure. Why don't we sit down " — he patted a bench

along the wall — " and I'll tell you all about them."

Maybe this wasn't going to be such a painful wait

after all. Kevin began weaving a tale of Bardic wonder

about his adventures in Count Volmar's casde and on

the road to Westerin. As Elli stared at him adoringly, he

turned the skirmish with the bandits into epic adven-

ture, spinning it out until he and his party had

overcome a whole army of outlaws.

"Why, that's wonderfull" Elli breathed, edging closer

to him.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 97

She was, he discovered, wearing some sort of sweet,

flowery perfume, a heady scent Warily, he let his hand

slide towards her, and felt a shock race through him

when her own small hand, rough with work but deli-

cate all the same, dosed about his fingers. Breathless,

the bardling sat frozen, not daring to move, wondering

what would happen if he tried to put an arm around

her. About him the bustle ofWesterin seemed as distant

and remote as a dream.

Kevin nearly yelped when Lydia tapped him on the

shoulder. "Wake up, lover boy. Here's your sword."

Blushing, Kevin released EUi's hand and scrambled

to his feet

"You owe Grakka two gold crowns, four silver,"

Lydia continued blandly. "And you, Erii — "

"That's Elli!" the dwarf girl said indignantly.

"Whatever. Your mother's calling you. Here's the

money we owe her. Now, scoot!"

Elli scuttled into the shop. But she paused just long

enough in the doorway to blow Kevin a kiss.

Lydia chuckled. "Pretty, isn'tshe? Can't be a day over

fifty."

"Fifty!"

"Young for a dwarf. Momma Grakka has to be push-

ing a hundred, if not more. Yup, little EUi's got to be

fifty, all right, just about the dwarven age of puberty.

Hot for marriage, too, or ... ah ... whatever. Grakka

has her hands full!"

She glanced at Kevin, who was still staring towards

the weapons shop, and chuckled anew. "Forget it, kid.

These human-Other romances never work out. Be-

sides, in a few more years, sweet little Elli is gonna be all

grown up and look just like her tough old momma."

Oh. Well. The bardling sighed, disillusioned.

"Come on, Kevin. The elves must be bored out of

their minds. And who knows what mischief Tich'ki's

working!"

98 MercedesLackey S^Josef)ha Sherman

What Tich'ki had been doing was trying to teach the

two elves how to play cards. She had already, it turned

out, won one night's free lodging for their horses from

the stablekeep.

"Never even noticed the cards were marked, eh?**

Lydia murmured wryly. "And don't give me that 'in-

nocent litde me* look, either, my dear. I know you far

too well! Let's get out of here before we wind up in

prison."

If anything, the crowds seemed to have gotten worse

as the day progressed. Kevin, one hand on his new

sword, the other on his purse, struggled his way along,

beginning to long for the nice, peaceful, open

countryside.

All at once, a particularly rough body barrelled into

him.

"Hey!" the bardling yelled. "Why don't you watch

where—"

A second man hurded into him, nearly sending the

bardling sprawling. For one horrifying moment he was

sure he was going to go down, and be trampled by the

heedless crowd, but then Naitachal's hand closed about

his arm, pulling him back to his feet. The Dark Elf ges-

tured the whole party into an alcove where they could

be out of the stream of traffic,

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, I — " Kevin broke off abruptly. Something

didn't feel quite right... "Wait a minute." Oh no, oh

no, this couldn't be! The bardling searched himself

frantically, then cried in panic, "It's gone! The purse

Count Volmar gave me is gone!"

Chapter X

"Oh hell," Lydia muttered. "I knew this was going to

happen."

"That man — " Kevin gasped out, "the one who

josded me — he must have stolen my money! We have

to—"

"Have to what? Do you see him anywhere?"

"No, but the guard — "

"Did you see his face? No? Can you tell them any-

thing about what he looks like?"

"No..."

Lydia let out her breath in a gusty sigh. "Give it up,

boy. The money's gone."

"But..." Kevin struggled to keep his voice from

shaking from sheer panic.

All about him, the city continued its busy life, not

caring whether he lived or died, and he had nothing

left but the few small coins in his own purse. They

weren't enough to let him survive, let alone bribe

anyone. He'd failed the count. Worse, he'd failed

Charina!

Hopelessly the bardling asked, "What are we going

todo.-.?"

"Well, we can't do anything without money, that's for

sure," Lydia said brusquely.

"Then it's foolish to remain here." Eliathanis pulled

his cloak about himself, adjusting his hood with fas-

tidious care. "I said we should never have come to

Westerin."

"But—"

100 Mercedes Lackey ^Sjosepha Sherman

"We've wasted enough time, I am going to do what I

should have done from the start, and explore on my

own."

"No!" Kevin cried. "You can't abandon — " But the

White Elf had already vanished into the crowds. " —

the team," the bardling finished helplessly. "Naitachal!

You can't leave, too!"

"No?11 The Dark Elf's eyes glinted from beneath his

hood, cool and unreadable as blue ice. "'There is more

to be learned here if I'm not burdened with... anyone

else."

"But — wait — ** Kevin whirled to Lydia. " I suppose

you're going to go offon your own, too!"

"Hell, no. I don'tabandon the helpless, remember?"

All at once she grinned. "Hey, cheer up, kid. It's not so

bad."

"Not so bad! We don't have any money!"

"I've been stuck penniless in cides before, some of

them a lot nastier to strangers than this one, and I've al-

ways managed to land on my feet. Let me think a

minute... Ha, yes. Tich'ki, what do you think of this?"

She murmured in the fairy's ear- Tich'ki laughed

and yanked a lock of the woman's hair- "Ah yes, of

course!"

"All right, then. Come on, Kevin."

"Where are we going?"

She didn't answer. Kevin, struggling to keep up with

the woman, who was knifing her way skillfully through

the crowd, hardly noticed the buzz of fairy wings in his

ear. But he did notice tough little fingers snatching the

pouch holding his last few coins.

"Hey! Tich'ki, give that back!"

The fairy ignored him, dropping the pouch into

Lydia's hands. Kevin hurried after her.

"Lydia! Come back here' Where are you going?

What are you — Lydia!"

He stopped, staring up at the building blocking his

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 101

path. Where in the world ... ? A temple? Oh yes, such

an overblown stone and plaster monstrosity couldn't

be anything but a temple! Kevin glanced briefly up at

the busy, brighdy painted facade. Over the door was an

ornately carved and gilded relief of a very smug group

of merchants kneeling in prayer. Praying to whom? In

this city, the bardling thought drily, it could only be the

Great God Money!

Ach, no, that wasn't nice. Besides, the last thing he

could afford right now was getting Heavenly Powers

angry at him!

Tich'ki didn't have any such qualms. She vanished

into the temple with such an evil titter that Kevin stared

after her, particularly when Lydia chuckled and fol-

lowed.

Oh Powers, the/re going to rob the temple, I know it. How

can /possibly stop them before —

But Lydia strode boldly down the length of the vast

inner chamber without pause, her boot heels clicking

on the smooth stone floor Ignoring the busy religious

murals on walls and columns (at least Kevin assumed

they were religious murals), ignoring the few worship-

pers and the gaudy gilded shrine (the bardling still

couldn't figure out to whom the temple was sacred),

she pulled aside a curtain shrouding the far wall.

revealing a tiny door. The woman rapped on it three

times, then two, then three again, and Kevin cried in

sudden comprehension:

"You've been here before!"

Lydia grinned. "The boy's a genius! How do you

think I found the livery stable and Grakka's shop so

easily?"

"Oh." Feeling exceedingly stupid, the bardling mut-

tered, "Of course."

The door swung open soundlessly. "Come on, kid,"

Lydia said- "Churches are always where the money is.

Let's go."

102 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

Kevin warily followed her down a short flight of

stairs. He paused halfway down, glancing about

The room at the bottom of the seeps was small and

windowless, but elegant enough, with walls and tables

of sleekly polished wood. It was full of people sitting at

or standing around those tables, some of them so richly

— or gaudily — clad the bardling's eyebrows rose in

surprise. The only sounds were the faint rustle of

cards, the clink of coins, and an occasional sigh or

smothered oath.

"This is a gambling house!" Kevin exclaimed, feeling

a wicked little thrill of excitement run through him.

They hardly had this sort of thing back in Bracklin!

"Lydia, what do you think you're doing?"

"Earning us some funds."

"B-but those are the only coins we've got left! If you

lose them..."

Lydia shrugged. "Whatever the Fates decree." As a

man threw down his hand and stalked off in disgust,

the woman flopped down onto the vacant chair.

"What's the game?"

No one even glanced up. "Five-card Tarot," some-

one muttered. "Pentades wild."

"Fine." To Kevin's horror, she dumped all his coins

out on the table in front other. "I'm in."

The bardling had no idea what the rules of Five-card

Tarot might be. He'd never even heard of the game

before! Chewing anxiously on his lower lip, he watched

as Lydia thoughtfully kept or discarded the brightly

colored cards, or glanced every now and then at her

equally pensive fellow players: three middle-aged

human men and an elven half-blood of indeterminate

age and gender. With each round, the bardling saw

with a shudder, more and more of his precious coins

were added to the pot.

"I'm out," one of the humans muttered suddenly,

throwing down his cards and leaving.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 103

The others never even noticed. After another hand:

"Me, too," said the half-elf with a shrug, vanishing

into the crowd.

Lydia and the two remaining men never flickered an

eyelash. One of the men, Kevin noted, was a bushy-

bearded fellow in somber red robes, while the other

was a thin, clean-shaven man, smooth of skin and

dressed in an elegant tunic ofblue velvet, but they were

alike in their impassive concentration. The game went

on, cards being selected, discarded. The pile of coins in

the center of the table grew ever larger.

If she loses now, the bardling thought with a shudder,

we'll have nothing left!

But without warning, Lydia threw down her hand

with a cry of triumph.

"There! Beatthat!"

Kevin saw that the cards she'd been holding were

the King, Queen, Knight and Page of Swords, and the

Five of Wands. It was obviously a good hand, because

Bushy Beard and Smooth Skin threw down their cards

in disgust. Smiling sweedy, Lydia raked in the pot

"Come on!" Kevin whispered. "We've got our

money back. Let's get out of here!"

"Are you joking?" she whispered back. "That's not

enough to bribe anyone! Besides, I've just begun."

"What do you mean? Lydia, if you lose— "

"I'm not going to lose- All right, gentlemen," the

woman added in a bright voice. "Shall we try one more

time?"

Bushy Beard and Smooth Skin grumbled. But to

Kevin's horror, they agreed. This time, as the winner of

the last round, Lydia was the dealer, sending the cards

flashing out in neat, colorful piles to the other players.

"Same stakes?"

"Same stakes," they muttered, almost as one.

She's going to lose. I know she's going to lose. Wewon'thave

a coin Ie ft and—Oh,fknewit!

104 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Shennan

Bushy Beard impassively raked in his winnings.

"Lydia!" Kevin whispered frantically. "That's

enough! Let's get out of here while we still have some-

thing left!"

"Hush. One more round, gentlemen?"

Smooth Skin nodded. Bushy Beard, fingering his

winnings, was slower to agree.

"All right," he muttered at last

Lydia smiled. "But we've been playing a kid's game

so far. How about some real risks, eh? Major Arcana

and double stakes, this rime? And winner takes all?"

Both men hesitated this time. Then Bushy Beard

shrugged. "Why not?"

"What about you, my friend?" Lydia crooned.

Smooth Skin sighed. "All right. Butjust this one

hand. I have... other engagements."

"We'll try not to keep you too long," Lydia said drily.

Fuming and terrified, Kevin watched Bushy Beard

shuffle the entire deck this time, Major and Minor

Arcana together, and deal out the bright-hued cards.

Fists denched, he watched Lydia thoughtfully pick up

then discard card after card, her face a studious blank.

"Raise," she said after a while, pushing a few coins

towards the center of the table.

"Raise," echoed Smooth Skin, doing the same.

Bushy Beard hesitated a long time, but at last added

his share of coins.

The game went on. And on. Each time it was Lydia's

turn, she studied her cards for a time, then called out:

"Raise."

That's the last of our winnings! Kevin realized. If she loses

this hand, we'll be beggared!

It was Smooth Skin who hesitated this time, hand

toying with the coins in front of him. "Raise," he said at

last.

Bushy Beard swore under hisbrcath. "Too rich forme,"

he muttered, throwing down his cards and stalking away.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 105

Lydia smiled. "Show 'em," she said.

Smooth Skin showed his teeth in a sharp grin. "Beat

this."

He held The Emperor. The Empress, The Fool, The

Knight of Swords and The Five of Wands.

"Interesting." Lydia's voice was grim.

She's lost, I know she's lost. We're lost.

But then the woman's gloomy face broke into a grin.

"What a shame you didn't have another Major Arcana

card! BeatAis/"

Her hand held The Magician, The Hanged Man,

The Sun, The Tower, and The Lovers.

All Major Arcana cards. Does that mean...?

it did. With a snarl. Smooth Skin got to his feet and

stormed off, leaving Lydia to rake in the entire pot.

"Now can we please get out of here?" Kevin asked,

sure Smooth Skin was going to return with thugs.

"Hey, kid, 1 know when to quit!" Lydia paused just

long enough to make the bardling's heart race, then

grinned. "And now, my friend, is definitely the timel"

Only when they were outside and halfway down the

block did it occur to Kevin that he hadn't seen Tich'ki

since they'd entered the temple. As though just diinking

other was enough to coryure her up, the fairy suddenly

appeared at his side, wings fluttering, grinning her feral

grin and waving a colorful piece of parchment

"Wait a minute," Kevin said. "That's a tarot card!"

"Two points to the clever lad with the lute!"

"But — Let me see that!" The bardling snatched the

card from Tich'ki's hand before she could dart away.

"This is one of the cards from the deck Lydia was using!

It's The High Priestess, one of the Major Ar—Ha! No

wonder that man couldn't get all the Major Arcana

cards! Lydia, you were cheating}"

"Shh! You want the guards after us?"

"But — but — you were! You and Tich'ki were in it

together, weren't you? What did you do, Tich'ki? Use

106 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Sherman

fairy magic so no one would notice you? That's it, isn't

it? You looked at the other players' hands and slipped

Lydia the right cards — You were both cheating!"

Lydia stopped. Placing her hands firmly on the

bardling's shoulders, she told him, "My naive young

friend, what did you think the others were doing? Hell,

boy, we were all cheating, I realized that from the first

hand! ljust cheated better, that's all." Grinning, she

released him. "You know who those two men were?

The fellow with the beard — well, I don't remember his

name; it's been a while. But he is a very successful gem

merchant. The other one, the beardless guy, hasn't

changed much at all. His name is Selden, and he sits on

the dty council. Neither one of them are going to miss

what we took from them!"

"You Stole from a city official!"

"He's not going to let anyone know he was — let's

see, how does the formal term go? — participating in

an illicit gambling operation* Come on, Kevin: smile!

We've got our funding back, and more. Now let's go

bribe ourselves somebody useful."

But just then an angry voice shouted, "There she is!

That's the woman who robbed me! Guards, after her!"

"Oh, right," Kevin said sarcastically. "He's not going

to let anyone know."

And then he and Lydia were running for their lives.

Chapter XI

As the guards charged, Tich*ki leaped straight up

into the air, wings a blur. "See you later!"

She darted offat top speed as Kevin and Lydia raced

through the crowded streets ofWesterin, weaving in

and out of knots of people, the guards' heavy footsteps

pounding behind them. The air rang with cries of

"Thieves! Stop them!" But no one even tried to block

their path.

Of course not! Kevin realized. Nobody wants to risk get-

ting involved!

"This way!" Lydia gasped, pointing to a narrow alley.

But Kevin stumbled to a stop, staring. In there^ The

place stank! It was filthy with piles of garbage and who

knew what else. Worse, it also looked like a dead end!

He almost hesitated too long. "Got him!" a guard

yelled. A rough hand grabbed at the bardling*s arm,

nearly pulling the lute from his back. Kevin kicked out

savagely and heard a grunt of pain. The guard lost his

hold, and the bardling dove inco the alley.

Wonderfrd.NowrveassatiUedacitygtwrd.Ju^wcmder^

Trying not to breathe too deeply, he raced after

Lydia, struggling to keep his footing on the slippery,

muddy earth, telling himself the puddles he couldn't

help splashing through were water, only water.

None of it seemed to bother the guards. They came

pounding after him, swearing, armor and weapons

dashing as they ran.

"Kevin!" Lydia whispered, snatdiing at him.

Where did she think she was going? That didn't even

108 Mercedes Lackey ^josepha Sherman

qualify as an alley! It was only a — a crevice, a space

where the backs of two buildings didn't quite meet.

"Come on, Kevin!"

Well, if she could fit...

The bardling hurried in after her, trying not to let his

lute bang against a wall. How weird! None of the houses

in this area seemed to meet exactly, and as a result there

was a whole little maze ofnot-quite alleys back here. He

hoped the woman knew where she was going, because if

she didn't, they were going to wind up good and lost —

Lydia stopped so suddenly Kevin nearly crashed

into her. She held up a hand, listening. "Damn!"

"They're sdll after us."

"Right. They don't usually follow anyone in here.

Must be an election year." The woman shrugged-

"We'U have to try something else.**

She started off again. Kevin, who had just barely

caught his breath, groaned and followed. They sud-

denly came out into a wider way, the back alley of a

street of shops. The bardling noticed the rickety piles of

storage crates and barrels and thought in sudden in-

spiration, What if...?

"Lydia, wait!"

He pointed. She stared, then grinned in com-

prehension. "You're catching on fast, kid!"

As the guards charged out into the alley, they yelled

to see their prey standing as if winded, leaning help-

lessly against a wail. "There they are! Take them!"

But the boy kicked at a crate and the woman at a bar-

rel, and a whole avalanche of crates and barrels came

thundering down, nearly burying the guards and

totally blocking the alley.

"That does it!" Lydia crowed. "Let's get out of here

before they can dig themselves out."

The small, open square might have been grand at

one rime, but Westerin had grown out and away from it

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 109

long years back. Now it was a shabby little place, cob-

blestones cracked and broken where they hadn't been

stolen outright. In the center of the square stood a

fountain so chipped and worn Kevin guessed water

hadn't flowed in it since Westerin had been founded.

Its rim made a fine place for two fugitives to sit and

catch their breach. "No sign of the guards," Lydia said

after a time, "Guess they finally lost us."

"What do you suppose happened to Tich'ki?"

Lydia shrugged. "She can take care of herself. No

one's going to find a fairy who doesn't want to be

found!" She glanced at Kevin. "That idea with the bar-

rels was pretty clever. How*d you think of it?**

"I didn't," the bardling confessed. "I remembered it

from an adventure ballad."

"Ha! Looks like music's good for something more

than just pretty notes!"

Oh no, he wasn't going to fall into her trap. Biting

back his indignant reply, Kevin asked instead, "Where

are we, Lydia?"

The woman glanced about. "Pretty much where we

want to be. In the.. -shall we say... less elegant section of

town. The section that every dty has, where the guards

don't go too often and never alone, and where no one asks

too many questions." At his raised eyebrow, the woman

addedjauntily, "Just trying t& talk like a proper Bard!"

/ will not let her bait me! " In other words, we're in the

slums."

"Exactly. Just the spot for a few carefully placed

bribes."

"Merer

"Of course here. You don't find the weasels and rats

we need in palaces!"

"What's to keep those rats from calling the guards?"

Lydia laughed. "The kind of folks we're going to

meet are hardly going to be on the best of terms with

guards. They're not going to call 'em down on us."

110 MercedesLackey ^Josepha Sherman

"Sure. Just like that city official wouldn't."

"Huh! This adventure's turning you too cynical, kid!

Come on, let's go rat-hunting."

The first tavern was small and crowded, and stank of

stale beer and staler humanity. But at least, Kevin

thought warily, the men inside looked reasonably nor-

mal: sweaty, thick-set laborers and dock workers who'd

stopped in for a quick drink.

Lydia shook her head in disapproval. "This won't

do. Too honest Come on."

The second tavern hid in the basement of a half-

collapsed tenement It was so dark in there that for one

nervous moment Kevin, poised on the top of a short, rick-

ety stairway, couldn't see anything at all. As his eyes

adjusted to the gloom, he swallowed drily. This duster of

men and... not-quite humans lurking down there in the

shadows coukm'thave had anything honest to thematalL

"Better," muttered Lydia, her busy eyes checking

out the dientel and scouring out possible escape routes

at the same time. "Stay here."

She moved easily through the crowd, stopping a

moment here to ask a question or two, slapping away a

roving hand there, never losing her smile or her padence.

After what seemed an eternity to the bardling, Lydia

returned to Kevin's side. "Three invitations to ...

ah ... bed, two to sic and party a while, one to buy

you — " she grinned at his outrage — " but no useful

information. Besides," the woman added teasingly,

"the price for you wasn't nearly high enough!"

She scurried out before he could find an answer.

The third tavern was almost as murky. The furnish-

ings consisted only of a few splintery tables and chairs,

and the thin layer of sawdust covering the floor was

sticky with what Kevin prayed was only beer. The cus-

tomers were an ugly lot, quite literally, hunched over

their drinks like so many bitter predators, making the

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 111

crowd in the last place look almost wholesome.

Not a one of them showed the slightest interest in

kidnappers or a missing noblewoman. But before

Lydia and Kevin could leave, a hulk of a man, big and

ugly enough to be almost all ogre — lurched to his feet

and staggered towards Lydia.

"H'Uo, b'oot'ful. Come 'n have uh drink."

"Some other time, handsome."

"I said, have uh drink!"

"And I said, some other time."

As she turned to leave, the man caught her arm in a

meaty hand. "You ain't goin' nowhere, b'oot'ful."

Lydia sighed. "They never learn," she murmured.

Before the bardling could even start to move, the

woman whirled on her captor, knee shooting up with

devastating force and deadly accuracy. As the man

doubled over in speechless agony, Lydia pulled free and

smiled sweetly at Kevin, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

"Shall we leave?" she asked.

The bardling glanced warily around the room. No

one seemed to have noticed what had just happened.

Even so, he had to fight the urge to back out of there,

hand on sword hilt. Once they were safely outside on

the street, Kevin exploded:

"What in the name of all the Powers did you think

you were doing?"

"Avoiding an unwanted drink."

"But — but he might have been armed! He might

have killed you!"

"And the roof might have caved in on us all. It didn't

He didn't. Kevin, credit me with enough wit to know

when someone's carrying weapons. Or is sober

enough to be dangerous. The poor idiot had it coming

to him, and I just hope his less-than-friends back there

don't slit his throat while he's helpless."

"But—you—"

"Look, kid, this son of thing happens all the time

112 Mercedes Lackey ^josepha Sherwan

when you happen no be both a warrior and a woman. **

"Well, maybe it wouldn't happen so often if you just

didn't dress so —so — "

"So what, Kevin?"

He shook his head, miserably embarrassed, wishing

he'd kept his mouth shut "You know."

"Ah, our litde bardling is a prude!"

"I am nod But you — "

"Go around asking for it? Is that what you're trying

to say? Listen to me, and listen well: I am a woman in a

man's world. I'm not complaining; that's just the way

things are. And as a woman, sure, I could wear a nice,

proper gown that restricted every step I took, the sort

of thing a lady wears — and get killed the first time I

needed to move quickly. I could wear full armor, too,

always assuming I could afford the expensive stun*—

but I spend a lot of my life on board ships. People who

wear full armor on ships tend to have really short lives

if they fall overboard!"

"I... uh... never thought of that..."

"I realize that!" All at once, Lydia grinned. "Besides,

when I do have trouble, the fools are generally so busy

looking at my ... ah... endowments that they never

see my knee or fist coming. So now, enough lecturing.

We sdll have some rat-hundng to do!"

She strode boldly away. Kevin gulped and followed,

deciding that Lydia wasn't as dumb as she looked. She

might be rough in manners and language —but she

certainly wasn't dumb at all.

Kevin sank wearily to a bench, hardly caring that the

cheaply made thing creaked alarmingly and

threatened to collapse. How many taverns had it been

now? Ten? Fifty? A hundred? By this point he'd seen so

many roughnecks, so many weird, ugly humans and

Others, so much emptiness or depravity in so many

eyes, that he didn't think anything could shock him any

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 113

more. If Death Itself came up to this table, the bardling

mused listlessly, he'd probably just tell It to go have a

nice day somewhere else.

Lydia, who in the course of their hunt had dealt with

a half-dozen would-be suitors, showed not the slightest

sign of weariness.

Well, sure. She's probably ttsed to tavern-hopping. This is

probably tame to her!

He looked down in dismay at the warm, watery beer

in the flagon before him. At least he wasn't expected to

finish the stuff. How anyone could actually want to —

"Hey, kid, look who I've found."

Lydia was returning, pulling someone with her.

Kevin stared. An Arachnia! But clearly one that had

fallen on hard times. Where D*Krikas had been an

elegant figure, spotlessly dean, dark chitin shining

with health, this being was downright shoddy, its com-

pound eyes lacking any trace of animation, its tall body

folded into a weary stoop chat left it no taller than the

woman. The gray cloak that seemed to be an Arachnia

trademark was worn and ragged, so filthy it looked as

though it had never been washed, and the being's

chitin was so dull and scaly Kevin wondered if it was

possible for an Arachnia to have the mange.

Lydia didn't seem to care. Slapping the Arachnia on

its back, making the thin being stagger, she said heart-

ily, "This is... what did you say your name was, pal?"

"D'Riksin," the being murmured.

"D'Riksin," Lydia echoed. "Sit you down here,

D'Riksin, my friend, and have a drink with us."

She pushed. The Arachnia sat with a thump, as

though already too far gone to resist. Kevin glanced

sharply at the woman, wondering what was going on,

but she was busy flagging down a barmaid. "A bottle of

Mereot for my friends and me."

Mereot turned out to be a dark red wine, so sweet

that Kevin nearly gagged on his first sip. He noticed

114 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Shennan

that Lydia wasn't drinking much other flagon, either.

But D'Riksin guzzled down the sweet stuff with undis-

guised delight.

"Good," the being murmured.

"Have another, pal, on Kevin here."

D'Riksin dicked its beak in what was presumably an

Arachniad smile. "Thank you, friend." It swilled down

the second flagon almost as quickly as it had the first

and dicked its beak with more abandon. "Good stuff.

Good friends. Not like some others."

"Someone betrayed you, huh?" Lydia leaned for-

ward, elbows on the table, resting her head on her fists.

"That's tough."

"Betrayed me," the being echoed.

"Why don't you tell us all about it, pal?" Lydia's voice

oozed concern. "Troubles are a lot lighter to bear when

they're shared."

TheArachnia helped itself to more Mereot "It's the

king's fault," D'Riksin whined. "All his fault."

"How so?"

"Shouldn'ta supported him- Big mistake. No one'U

hire me, 'cause they know I backed King Amber."

Htth? That doesn't 'make sense! They won't fwe a supporter

of the kmg? But Westerm is a crown city! There can't be that

many foes of King Amber here!

Lydia didn't seem to be bothered by the weird logic, or

lack of logic. "I know how it is," she purred. "Can't trust

anybody, can you? Here, pal, have some more MereoL"

"Don* min' if I do." D'Riksin chittered anArachnia

giggle. "Show *em. Show 'em all. Know something they

don't know, any of them, none of the fine humans."

"Sure you do."

TheArachnia straightened slightly. "1 do\" it insisted.

"Know all about the girl."

Kevin tensed. "What girl?"

"Hee hee! The girl! The one who was swiped,

'course, the daughter of that fool of a count."

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 115

"Charina!"

D'Riksin tried to shrug, hampered by the lack of true

shoulders. "Eck, whatever. Know who took her?" It

paused, staring at them with the idiot slyness of the

truly drunk. "It was Princess Cariotta, that's who!"

"That's impossible!" Kevin snapped. "Carlotta's

been dead for over thirty years.**

"No, no, no, no! That's what she wants everyone ta

think! Dead, dead, dead... whee! Sorceresses don't

die, not so easy, not she!" D'Riksin took another long

swig of Mereot, then leaned forward as much as stiff

chitin would allow, whispering confidentially, "It was

rebels took the girl, rebels led by Princess Cariotta."

"But why?

The Arachnia chittered to itself, then tried to pour it-

self another drink. Nothing happened. It upended the

bottle, looking blearily inside. "Empty," it said sadly.

"No more Mereot for poor D'Rikish — D'Rishkin —

DTfffaw."

But Lydia had already ordered a new bottle. "Here,

pal. Drink up. Tell us why Princess Cariotta stole the

giri."

D'Riksin chittered and drank, "^heeee!" it laughed.

"She wants to use the girl against King Amber!"

"That's ridiculous!" Kevin said. "Charina may be

Count Volmar's niece, but she's not all that important."

The Arachnia blinked and leaned forward again,

studying the bardling dosely. Kevin stared back, trying

not to flinch at this close-up view of the being's com-

pound eyes. "You're the one was copyin' the manshu

— manshi — the book."

"How would you know — Ow!"

Lydia had kicked him under the table. She glared at

the bardling, warning him to keep quiet. D'Riksin con-

tinued, heedless, "Wanna know a secret? Bet you don'

know the stuff you were copyin* had a spell hid in it"

The being nodded, pleased with itself. "Yup, did!"

116 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Sherman

It fell silent, staring moodily into its flagon. Lydia

asked, very gently, "What kind of a spell, pal?"

chidden spell!"

"Well, yes," she said with more patience than Kevin

would ever have believed, "we gathered that. What

fund of a hidden spell?"

"Don* think I should tell ya."

"Maybe you don't know. Maybe you're making this

all up." Lydia folded her arms in pretend indignation.

"A fine thing when you can't even trust a drinking

buddy to tell the truth."

"I am. tellin' the truth," D'Riksin whined. "Not sure,

y'unnerstand. But rumor is, it's a spell to keep Princess

Carlotta from changin' shape- 'Cause if she did, if the

spell works, she'd be stuck in her true self forever 'n*

ever."

"Her -.. true self," Kevin said warily.

"Sure! Din'cha know? She's not human, not al-

together. Naw, she's more fairy 'n' anythin' else. And

she'd be stuck as a fairy!" The Arachnia chittered in

laughter. "No way a fairy can sit the throne. Not legal!

Gotta be a human."

"You sure about that spell?" Lydia asked.

"Eck, who knows? Thing's never been tried, never

been tested. Might work. Might blow up in the user's

face!"

The Arachnia swayed in its seat. "I was there," it said

confidentally. "I was in the guard, you know, guard of

Count Volmar's daddy. Yup, his daddy, that's who it

was, Count Dalant-1 saw the elves give the book to him,

to ole Count Dalant. Told him to keep it safe. Guess

they figured if Princess Carlotta went lookin' for the

thing, she'd think the elves had it"

"But why leave it with the count's father?" Kevin

asked.

D'Riksin started to pour itself another flagon full,

then stopped, blinking thoughtfully. "I 'member they

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 117

said something 'bout it bein' too dangerous to leave

with anyone who could act'ly use the thing. Yeah. Just

in case Princess Carlotta did think ID look there. Yeah,

s'right. It's keyed so only two folks can see it. One of

*em a Bard. Ardan, Aydan, somethin' like that"

The bardling tensed, heart racing- "Aidan?"

"Yeah! That's it! It'll only appear to him, or to his

suchsec — shuchessor — successor!" the Arachnia

finished triumphantly. "Wheeeee!" it added in glee,

and fell flat across the table.

"So much for that," Lydia muttered. She glanced up.

"Uh, Kevin, I think we'd better get out of here."

"Yes, but—"

"Now, Kevin."

Startled at the urgency in her voice, the bardling

looked up. "Oh."

Six ugly... things were peering through the gloomy

tavern, looking for something.

Things, Kevin decided, was definitely the word.

None of the six was truly human, or a member of any

other recognizable race, except for their leader, who

was the most depraved-looking elf the bardling could

ever have imagined. Pasty-skinned and gaunt, the

man's fair White Elf hair hung lankly to his shoulders.

and his green White Elf eyes were flat and cold and

empty. Kevin wondered what depravities could have so

corrupted a creature of Light, and shuddered.

"Guess not everyone liked the idea of D'Riksin talk-

ing to us," Lydia murmured.

"You don't know they're looking for us," Kevin

whispered back.

Just then, the empty-eyed elf pointed their way and

yelled something at the others. All six started stalking

forward, radiating menace, sending customers scram-

bling out of their way.

"Hell I don't," Lydia said drily.

Chapter XII

"All right," Lydia said under her breath. "I've been in

tighter fixes than this. Gotten out of them, too. Follow

my lead. Kevin. Ready? Here we go!"

She stood up, grabbed a customer at random, and

flattened him with one mighty punch. The man stag-

gered back into another table, which collapsed, spilling

their drinks all over the men who'd been sitting there.

"Hey, watch it, you stupid£rticA!"

"frttcft, is it?" growled an ogre at the next table- "7'm

an£rricA, you idiot humans!"

He dove into the humans, swinging wildly, sending

men and chairs flying. For one shocked moment,

Kevin froze. Then he realized exacdy what Lydia was

doing and grabbed another man, about to imitate her.

No, no, I nearly wrecked my hand the last time I tried to

punch someone! Can't risk that agam!

What to do? The bardling snatched up a half-empty

flagon instead, and whapped the man soundly over the

head. Mereot splashed all over a heavy-set, scaly

whatever-it-was at the next table. The creature sprang

up with a furious hiss, only to collide with one of the

men from the first table, who was blindly throwing

punches right and left. The creature flattened him,

and went looking for other prey. Those customers who

hadn't already taken cover found themselves caught in

the middle of an ever-growing melee — and joined in

with savage glee. The empty-eyed elf and his men

swore helplessly as the brawl engulfed them in a

whirlwind of fists and botdes.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 119

Lydia, standing safely out of the way, gave a sharp

laugh. "Nothing like a good old-fashioned tavern

brawl for a diversioni Come on, Kevin, let's get out of

here."

She slipped out through the tiny kitchen, Kevin

dose behind her, struggling past harried servants who

were heading out into the brawl armed with dubs and

broom handles.

Hey, where had Lydia gone?

"Out here!" the woman called, and the bardling

scrambled out the narrow window after her. "Now you

know why I'm always scouting for ways out of places!

Come on, let's put some distance between ourselves

and those guys.**

More rwmmg, Kevin thought wearily.

They made it all the way back to the shabby square.

The bardling sank gladly to the lip of the dry fountain,

panting, the lute an awkward weight on his back. He

shifted it around in front of him, leaning on it. "Think

we're safe?**

Lydia straightened, listening to nothing but silence.

She shrugged. "For the moment. By the time old

Empty Eyes fights his way out of that tavern, our trail's

going to be cold."

We hope. "Now what do we do?"

"Look for the others, I guess, and — '*

"There you are!" a shrill voice snapped.

Kevin glanced up to see the fairy fluttering fiercely

overhead. "Hello, Tich'ki!"

"Never mind 'hello, Tich'ki!' I've been flying all over

the dty. Where the hell were you two?"

"Hunting rats." Lydia grinned. "Learned a lot from

them, too."

The fairy landed lightly beside her. "And nearly got

bit by them, I see. Oh yes, I heard all the fuss. What's

the matter, the guards weren't good enough for you?

Robbing a councilman wasn't exciting enough?"

120 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Sherman

"Ah, you're a fine one to scold! It wasn't me who set

that inn on fire back in Elegian — "

"An accident. I never knew the spell would backfire

like that."

" — or dropped the chamber pot on the mayor's

head in Smithian."

The fairy grinned. "Nearly tore a wing lifting the

thing. Worth it, though."

"Besides," Lydia added, "you know I didn't rob Sel-

den. Not exactly. Look, Tich'ki, you were there! It was

a game of cards, that's all. He wasn't any more honest

than me."

"Tell that to the guards." The fairy glanced sharply

from one human to the other- "You reek ofexdtement-

Haven'tjust been eluding guards, have you?"

"Uh, no," Lydia admitted. "We seem to have gotten

somebody's gang after us, too."

"Huh. And you tell me to keep out of trouble? Tell

me, just how do you plan to get out ofWesterin?"

Lydia shrugged. "We'll think of something."

"We can't leave without the rest of our party," Kevin

cut in.

"Sure, but they could be anywhere."

"They're both still in the city." Tich'ki restlessly

folded and refolded her wings. "Wouldn't have left

without their horses. And those horses are still here. I

checked."

Kevin straightened, hands tightening on the lute

case- "Tich'ki, you're friends with Naitachal."

-Well..."

"All right, all right, maybe you're not friends. But at

least you two must have something in common. I saw

you doing those card tricks together."

"What's this?" Lydia asked, eyebrow raised.

Tich'ki's dusky skin flushed. "He asked me. What

was I supposed to do? Tell him he wasn't bright

enough to leam?"

CASTLE OF DECEmON 121

"Teaching him tricks, eh?"

"Card tricks!"

"Of course."

"It's true!"

"And was that all you were doing, hmm?"

"Lydia, that's ridiculous! Look at the size of me! He's

more than twice my height!"

"Why, Tichid! Aren't your people wonderful shape-

changers? I should think you could be any size you

want to be."

Kevin stared from Lydia to Tich'ki. "I don't under-

stand you two! We've got all sorts of people out to get

us- How can you possibly waste time in —in banter?"

They both looked at him in surprise. Lydia shook

her head. "Would anything be changed if we acted like

scared little kids?"

"No, but—"

"Morale, Kevin, got to keep up morale. Just as," she

added slyly, "Tich'ki was keeping Naitachal's morale

up."

Cornered, the fairy took to the air. Still blushing, she

yelled down,

"You know I don't date outside my species!"

"Since when are elves and fairies separate — "

"All right! All right! I'll go look for him. You stay

here."

As the fairy darted up and away. Lydia murmured a

bemused, "Card tricks?"

"That^s all it was, really," Kevin said.

"Oh, I figured that But how often do I get a chance

to rib a fairy?" All at once she frowned. "Eh, I know I

said something about keeping up morale, but this

hardly seems the time for a song! Why are you taking

out your lute?"

"I'm going to try something." Kevin paused, one

hand caressing the polished wood. "I only hope it

works."

122 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

"What are you talking about?"

"There's a song that's supposed to draw someone

you know to you. I'm going to try it on Eliathanis."

"You don't exactly know him."

"Well, no. But he's an elf after all. Even if I can't

manage the whole force of Bardic Magic, he should

have enough innate magic to sense something."

"Always assuming he wants to listen."

"If the song works properly, he... uh... won't have

a choice."

Lydia raised an eyebrow. "Only hope you don't call

up Empty Eye from the gang as well. He's an elf, too.

More or less," she added in distaste.

"Oh. Well." Kevin hadn't thought of that. "It. . .

should work only on Eliathanis." I hope.

Bending over the lute, the bardling tuned it careful-

ly, then took a deep breach and began his song, trying

to picture the White Elf and only the White Elf, hear-

ing the coaxing strains soar out and out....

The bardling came back to himself with a start,

startled to realize he didn't know how much time had

passed. It must have been quite a while, because his

fingers were weary and his throat was dry. "What —

Naitachal!"

The Dark Elf bowed wryly. "Surprised to see me?

Returning was the only way I could get that fairy to

stop pestering me!"

"Huh!" Tich'ki said indignandy. "You were the one

who kept asking me questions!"

"And you were the one who wouldn't answer any of

them." Naitachal grinned. "I confess; Tich'ki keptafter

me till she'd roused my curiosity."

"I'm sure," Lydia murmured.

Kevin nearly choked. But then the urge to laugh

faded as he realized: "I guess my song didn't work."

"Oh, it did!" an angry voice snapped, and the

bardling shot to his feet. "It did, indeed!"

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 123

"EUathanisI"

"You just would not stop pulling at my mind! I was in

the middle of learning some important information,

and you—**

"What's this?" Tich'ki wondered, fluttering around

the White Elf. "You're such a fair-haired fellow. What

are red hairs doing on your shoulder?"

"Never mind that!" Eliathanis hastily brushed them

from him.

"Mmm, and what's this?** She sniffed audibly. "You

taken to wearing perfume, elf?"

"No!" His fair skin reddened. "It—I—"

"Oh, you were learning something, all right!" the

fairy taunted. "And I'm sure it was pretty important,

too! Maybe nothing to do with the stolen giri, but— "

"I was talking to a troop of dancing girls," the White

Elf said with immense dignity. Struggling to ignore

Lydia's delighted whoop, he continued, "They travel

all over the country. I thought they might know

Charina's whereabouts."

"And they really hated talking to such a pretty fellow,"

Tich'ki teased, then darted sideways in the air as

Eliathanis, his face a fiery red by now, took a swipe at

her. "You never will catch me like that, elfl" she mock-

ed.

"Can't you be serious for even a moment?"

"Now, now. Eliathanis." Naitachal's voice was

studiously serious, but his eyes glinted under the black

hood. "Seems to me you're hardly the one to accuse

anyone else of frivolity. Tsk, should have known there

was something warmer than ice under that grim

facadel"

"Don't you dare criticize me, necromancer!"

"Oh for Powers' safces!" Lydia cried. "You two aren't

going to start that again, are you?"

"What do you expect of elves?" Tich'ki laughed.

They're almost as bad as humans!"

124 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

"Hey, whose side are you on, fairy!"

"My own, of course!"

Ehathanis frowned at Lydia. "Woman, I don't need

to be defended from the likes of her!"

Tfw is getting out of hand, Kevin knew. If we don't work

everything out now, we're going to wind up m prison. Ordead.

Kevin licked his dry lips, thinking feverishly. Maybe

he hadn't acted like a leader up to now. Maybe diat was

because he had been trying too hard to imitate the

leaders in the heroic songs, those miracles of bravery

who were gifted with unfailing charisma. Well, that was

nonsense! The boy who had left Bracklin might never

have accepted it, but he was no longer so naive. Such

marvelous, infallible heroes like that could never have

existed — but those like Master Aidan most certainly

did. Master Aidan and those other good, sensible,

down-to-earth people who'd saved King Amber.

People who tried to understand those they were sup-

posed to lead, who brought them together and got

them to concentrate only on their goall

"All right," Kevin began.

Nobody noticed.

"Isaid^r^!"

As the others turned to him, he added sternly,

"Aren't you ashamed of yourselves? Did you really

mean to rob Count Volmar?"

Ha, that made them start. "What do you mean?"

Ehathanis asked coldly. "I am not a thief."

"No? You certainly aren't earning your keep! You

were hired to rescue the Lady Charina —not to fight

with each other! But bickering seems to be all you can

do!"

"Now, Kevin," Lydia began, "that's hardly fair — "

"Let me finish!" He glared at them all. "You,

Eliathanis and you, Naitachal: I know there are long

hatreds between White and Dark Elves. 1 know those

hatreds go back for generations. I don't expect either

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 125

one of you to settle such andent grudges overnight. I

don't even ask you to try! But I don't think elves of

either race had anything to do with the kidnapping —

and if you really mean to show your peoples' in-

nocence the way you boasted, you had better stop

fighting and show some of that famous elvish self-

control! Or is that just a myth to make humans respect

you?"

"It's not," Naitachal said shortly. "And you do have a

point, bardling."

Tich'ki snickered. "Such a daring boy — "

"Andyoul" Kevin's finger stabbed at her with such

fervor that she flinched. "You've done nothing so far

but snipe at everyone else- I don't care about your

background, I don't care what unhappiness you're

trying to hide — "

"I'm not!" she protested.

" — but I 'm beginning to wonder if you're in the pay

of the enemy!"

The fairy froze in mid-air. "I most certainly am not!"

"Then stop acting like it!"

Lydia cleared her throat. "Don't you think that's

going a bit far, kid?"

Kevin whirled to her. "And as for you, Lydia: look, I

know I'm young, I know that compared to you I'm as

ignorant of the world as they come. But one thing I am

not is an idiot!"

"Oh, I never said — "

"But you think it. And as long as you go on thinking

it, you're not letting me do my job."

"Which is?"

"The same as all of us: freeing Charina!"

They were getting restless. These weren't naughty

children, after all. If he didn't change his tone, Kevin

realized, he was going to lose them.

"Listen to me." The bardling pitched his voice as

smoothly as ever he'd been taught. "Lydia and I

126 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

learned something truly alarming, something that

makes all our quarrelling the petty thing it is. Cariotta

is alive."

"The sorceress?" Eliathanis exclaimed. "But that's

impossible! Everyone knows she died years ago!"

"So we were led to think. Cariotta, I repeat, is very

much alive. And you and I know there is nothing she

would like better than to discredit King Amber's

reign." Kevin look a deep breath, stalling, trying to fig-

ure out what he was going to say next. "Look you, we

all know there's always been an undercurrent of un-

easiness, of mistrust, between the different races in the

realm. That's not so surprising. It may not be logical,

but elf or human, we fear the unknown. And if that un-

known takes the form of someone with a different

shade of skin " — he glanced at Naitachal — " or a dif-

ferent way of life — " this dme his glance took in Lydia

" — well, it's all too easy to let fear turn to hate."

"True enough," muttered the Dark Elf, and

Eliathanis nodded.

"But for thirty years," the bardling continued,

"those different races have managed to live in peace.

And why is that? Because King Amber has been such a

just, impartial ruler."

This time it was Lydia who nodded-

"Well, Cariotta doesn't like that!" Kevin said. "The

more popular a ruler her brother becomes, the more

difficult it's going to be for her to replace him. She tried

to kill him once before. We all know that. We also know

how she failed. But Cariotta has had thirty years to

think things over. I guess she's decided to be more

devious."

The bardling paused to catch his breath, glancing at

the others. They were watching him quite seriously;

even Tich'ki showed no sign other usual mockery.

"Cariotta has to know exactly how things stand

between the races," Kevin continued. "What better

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 127

way for her to destroy King Amber's reign than to use a

kidnapping to stir up all that latent hatred? Once the

land is torn by strife, what better way for her to seize

control?"

"Could be," Tich'ki muttered.

"Not 'could be,' " Kevin corrected. "Will be, if we

don't do something to stop her."

"Why us?" Lydia asked.

Why, indeed? He couldn't blame the woman —who,

after all was a mercenary, not a subject of the king —

for asking. But before Kevin could find a good argu-

ment, Naitachal said thoughtfully, "I believe I can

guess why Cariotta would choose Count Volmar's

niece to kidnap. His father was a true diplomat"

"He was," Eliathanis agreed. "Someone who tried

his best to reconcile grievances among the races."

"But Count Volmar," the Dark Elf continued, "is ...

shall we say, a bit less friendly towards both our races."

The White Elf nodded wryly.

"That's just it!" Kevin exclaimed. "Cariotta knows

about him, she must! That's why she kidnapped

Charina, and that's why she made it look as if elves

were to blame. Ha, yes, and she probably plans to plant

hints in the count's ear — you know, that his handpick-

ed team isn't having any success because the elves in

the party are deliberately hindering the hunt, because

they don't really want to find Charina!"

**Yes," Lydia agreed. "But you're sdll not giving me a

good reason to risk my neck. These aren't my people or

my land, after all."

"No," Kevin admitted. "But if Cariotta wins here, do

you think she's really going to stop with one realm?

She's a sorceress, Lydia, who can muster the forces of

Darkness to her side."

"But why us, Kevin? How can we possibly make a

difference?"

"Ah. Well. Because of the manuscript." I'm sorry,

128 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

MasterAidan, but Idon't darekeep it a secret any longer. Has-

tily, Kevin told the others the reason he'd come to

Count Volmar's castle — and what he'd learned about

that manuscript

"You mean Carlotta is partfairy'?" Tich'ki yelped.

"Her mother mated with a human'?"

"So it seems."

"B-but that's disgusting!"

"Thank you." Lydia gave the fairy a sarcastic bow.

"Kevin, go on. Tell us more about this manuscript."

"My Master must have realized Carlotta had

returned.1'

"Then why didn't he go straight to die king?"

"He didn't dare!" Thinking it out as he spoke, Kevin

added, "Not while Carlotta had her full powers,

anyhow. No, that would be putting King Amber in

direct danger. So he sent me after the spell."

"You being expendable, eh?" Naitachal asked.

"Uh, well, I wouldn't put it quite that way, but the

king's life is more important."

"Of course," Eiiathanis agreed, a little more

emphatically than Kevin would have liked. "Kevin,

what do you want us to do?"

What — Hey, they're listening to •me! They realty are! Fve

won!

Sure, but what was he going to do about it? "I think

we're going to have to return to Count Volmar's

casde," the bardling said slowly. "We have to retrieve

that manuscript. IfCarlotta's people really do have

Charina, they might be willing to trade her for it"

"What! No!" the White Elf cried. "That's insane!"

"I'm not going to give them the real manuscript! No,

no, I'll work up a forgery."

"They'll surely know the difference," Naitachal aigued.

"They won't. You see, I had already started copying

the manuscript before Charina was kidnapped. I'll put

a few pages of the real copy in with the fake, and only

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 129

Carlotta will be able to tell the difference. But by the

dme she leams the truth, Charina will be free! Yes, and

while we're in the castle, we can tell Count Volmar what

we've learned. Who knows? It just might force him to

rethink how he feels about elves!"

"Sooner force a stone to walk," the Dark Elf mur-

mured. "But it's worth the attempt."

"I agree," Eiiathanis said-

Lydia shrugged. "Me, too- Hey, Tich'ki, you in?"

The fairy shrugged. "Why not? Now all we have to

do is get out of the dcy- Easy. There's only one gang out

to get us, and guards watching for us at every gate."

She grinned sharply. "If we can escape all that, why,

anything else will be a laugh!"

"Ha," Lydia said dourly,

INTERLUDE THE THIRD

Count Volmar sat brooding before the fireplace in

his solar, chin resting on fisted hand-

How could things have gone so wrong so quickly? As

soon as that stupid bardling, that Kevin, was safely

gone from the castle, the count had ordered the library

emptied down to the bare stone walls, under the guise

of giving the place a good cleaning. He had personally

examined every volume, no matter how useless or

bizarre the contents. By now the newly cleaned books

gleamed in the newly cleaned library. But Volmar was

willing to swear on every sacred relic that not one of the

whole lot was the missing manuscript.

Nobody took it. It didn't walk out of there by itself. There is no

place in that Ubrwyfor the thing to be hiding. Then where is it?

Not that it mattered. None of his plans mattered, not

now, not when Carlotta was —

"You idiot! You utter idiot!"

Count Volmar leaped back from his chair with a

startled yell, flattening himself against a wall, staring in

horror at this sudden apparition. "In — in the Seven

Holy Names," he began, tracing holy signs in the air

with a hand that shook, "I bid you begone — "

"Oh, stop that! I'm not a ghost! You can't exorcise

me!"

"Carlotta ... ? Are you ... real?"

"Of course I'm real!" The sorceress threw herself

down in a chair in a swirl of green silk, flaming red hair

crackiing in a cloud about her. "What nonsense are you

spouting now?"

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 131

"I th-chought you were dead." Volmar took a deep,

steadying breath. "Carlotta, I really did think you were

dead." Returning to his chair, he sat, a little more

abruptly than he'd intended. "When your horse

returned without you, when the court sages all swore

something terrible had happened, something

sorcerous — "

"Bah."

"Well, what did you exfxct me to think? You're a sor-

ceress, dammit! Anything powerful enough to overcome

you wasn't going to be content at stopping at a mere kid-

napping. I was sure you'd been killed by a demon!"

Struggling for control, the count continued, "If you had

only deigned to share your plans with me — "

"You never would have been able to play your role

so convincingly." Carlotta's eyes glinted with scorn.

"The boy never would have believed you. This way

there was genuine terror in your voice when you told

him of poor little Charina's disappearance."

"But you were gone so long!"

"Poor frightened litue boy!"

"Carlotta—"

"I didn't have time to hold your hand! Do you

imagine it was easy to leave a false track halfway to

Westerin?"

"Uh, no, I would think not."

"Ha! You don't think, there's the truth ofit!" Cariotta

sprang to her feet, green gown rippling about her as

she paced. "How could you be so hopelessly, totally

stupid?"

Volmar nearly choked himself in the battle to keep

from shouting back at her- "What do you mean?" he

managed.

"How could you choose thatArachnia!"

What Arachnia? Surely the woman couldn't be refer-

ring to his seneschal. "D'Riksin?" the count asked

warily.

132 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Shernvan

Carlotta waved an impadent hand. "Whatever it calls

itself. The Arachnia in Westerin!"

"Ah- Yes." Coldness settled in Volmar's stomach. Choos-

ing his words very carefully, he began, "Granted, D'Riksin

isn'talways themostreliableofmy agents, but— "

"Reliable! D'Riksin isadrunken.Mrf!"

"Well, yes, the creature does drink too much. It's a

shame that alcohol affects the Arachniad system as it

does our own. But D'Riksin has never failed me before.

Besides, it was already in place in Westerin, it had its

orders, and—"

"And it ignored them completely! Yes, yes," Cariotta

added impatiently. "I was watching the whole thing

with my magic. That stupid drunken insect was sup-

posed to lead the boy and his party away from this castle,

not towards it! And it was not supposed to tell them any-

thing about the manuscript!"

Volmar stared in disbelief. Was that a glint of uneasi-

ness he saw in Carlotta's eyes? Or could it possibly even

be ... fear? Just what strange magic was in that

manuscript? Frustrating, to have to rely only on one litde

scrying crystal! Oh yes, the count knew it was as potent an

artifact as someone with no innate magical ability could

use, but it was still such a maddeningly inferior thing!

He'd only been able to guess at what D'Riksin had been

babbling. Something about a spell... a fairy -..

A fairy?

The count stiffened in sudden comprehension-

Struggling to keep the shock from his face, he thought,

Ofcourse! No wonder Carlotta had been in hiding for so

many years! Once she had recovered her strength

after the failed attempt on Amber's life, she would have

sensed the existence of the magical manuscript. Ha,

how that must have alarmed her! Volmar supposed

Carlotta had been struggling to control the thing from

afar, terrified that if she came too close she would spark

the magic into life and end everything for her.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 133

Andthen nasty old Master Aidan decided to up the stakes, as

the gamblers say, and send forthe manuscript. Thatforcedyou

out of hiding, Cariotta, didn't it?

Imagine that. All these years he had been wondering

at Carlotta's uncanny, precocious gift for sorcery when

the answer had been so very obvious! Her mysterious,

unknown mother hadn't been human at alii

Volmar only barely stiOed a triumphant laugh- If news

ever got out that the high and mighty princess-sorceress

wasn't truly human, that she was half fairy.... The law

stated quite firmly that no one of fairy blood could ever

wear the crown. If she were unmasked, it would turn a

sure thing into a very dicey proposition.

Well now, isn't that interesting? I'll keep your little secret,

Carlotta. After all, if you fail, I fail, too.

But once she gained the throne, once he sat beside

her, why then some changes would be made. They

would, indeed!

Cariotta was still pacing so restlessly Volmar ached to

order her to stand still. "You still haven't found the

manuscript," she said without warning, and he started.

"Don't look so surprised, man. I was watching you, too."

All at once the sorceress did stop, staring into the flames,

eyes fierce with impatience." 11 has to be somewhere in the

library, of course it does, even if we can't see it There are

such things as Spells of Hiding, after all. But what can be

enchanted can be disenchanted. With time. And without

interference. Such as that fool of a bardling will provide!

Damn him! We must keep him away from the casde!"

"But he's stuck in Westerin," Volmar soothed. "My

hirelings are hunting for him."

"Ha! That gang of failures! If they're anything like

your Arachnia, they probably can't find their own feet!"

"There's no way the boy can get out of that city," the

count said flady. "If my men don't catch him, he'll wind

up in prison or — "

"I don't believe that for a moment! So far the boy's

134 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Shennan

had uncanny luck, and there's no reason for things to

be different now."

"Can't you... ah... remove him—"

"Kffl him, you mean? From this far away?" Carlotta gave

a fierce litde laugh. "I'm not a goddess, man! No mortal

can throw a death-spell that far! Besides," she added

thoughtfully, "I'm not sure I want him dead... not quite

yet... not till I have rime to lay a proper trap for him. One

tocatchboth the boy and the manuscript... "tes!"

She whirled to stare at the count, eyes wide and

radiant with a cold, alien light. "You may watch this,

Volmar. But do not move from that spot. Do not utter

one word. On your life, do not seek to interfere."

Interfere with sorcery? Did she think him insane?

"Of course not," the count said fervendy.

What it was Carlotta murmured, Volmar had no

idea. He wasn't even sure of the language. But each

precisely uttered syllable seemed to ring in his ears

long after it was spoken, seemed to prickle along his

arms and ache in his bones till he longed to turn and

run. But that, Volmar knew, would be the end of him,

so he stood and watched and endured. And just barely

kept from crying out his shock when the firelight all at

once went hard and slick as ice. Or a mirror.

A mirror, indeed, though what it reflected ... Not

daring to move from where he stood, Volmar peered

over Carlotta's shoulder to see a the figure of a man

suddenly come into sharp focus, seen as clearly as

though through an open window.

Now, who... ?

No youngster, this- He was a fully human man — or

at least appeared to be — somewhere in late middle

age, his thick-set, powerful form half-hidden by the

folds of a black cloak. Its hood nearly hid the severe,

harshly planed face and its graying beard. The

stranger's eyes were gray, too, blazing out from the

hood's shadow with sorcerous force. But an ageless

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 135

weariness was there as well. As though. Volmar

thought uneasily, their owner had tried and been

bored by every depravity known to humanity.

Whoever, whatever he was, the man plainly knew

Carlotta. No warmth lightened the terrible eyes, but he

dipped his head, almost reluctantly, in reverence.

"Princess." The words were faint but clear. "What

would you?"

"You have not forgotten, have you, Alatan? You have

not forgotten your debt to me?"

The gray eyes flickered angrily. "No. I have not. The

fools would have burned me as a sorcerer had you not

intervened. Name what you would of me, Princess

Carlotta. It shall be done."

"It shall, indeed," the sorceress purred. "Listen,

then." She slipped back into the alien language with

which she'd created the flame-mirror. The language of

sorcery, Volmar thought, and wished with all his heart

he was somewhere else.

But he didn't dare be squeamish. Not if he meant to

sit beside Carlotta on the throne.

As the sorceress continued to give her orders to the

reluctantly obedient Alatan, Count Volmar forced him-

self to stand proudly as any king.

But once Carlotta had banished the mirror-spell,

and the flames were nothing more than flames, he let

himself sag-

"Who is this Alatan?" he dared ask.

"Anally, willy-nilly."

"He said you saved him from burning as a sorcerer."

Volmar said it doubtfully; charity hardly seemed pan of

Carlofcta's character- "Someone falsely accused him, I

take it?"

Carlotta's smile was deceptively sweet. "Oh no.

Alatan a a sorcerer, indeed. A most powerful, most

unpleasant one. Poor Kevin!" she added. "I Find I

almost... pity him!"

Chapter XIII

Kevin sighed. He and the rest of his group had been

trying for what seemed like an age to find a gate out of

Westerin: a gate that wasn't watched over either by the

gang or the guards. So far they hadn't succeeded. After

all this hunting, his feet hurt, his lute seemed to have

picked up extra weight, his stomach was clamoring for

food — and now the night was coming on.

"I think all we can do," he said wearily as they

regrouped in the small, ruined square, "is find a place

to spend the night and try to see if we can't figure out a

way to get out of here in the morning."

"Good idea." Lydia grinned ruefully. "I can go all

day on sea or land, but these cobblestones are cursed

hard on the feet!"

"It is going to look rather suspicious if we all march

into an inn together," Naitachal pointed out. "We're

not exactly an ordinary mix of people."

"That's no problem to me." Tich'ki laughed, flutter-

ing her wings. "All I need is a window, and I'm in!"

"The same is true of Naitachal and me," Eliathanis

added. "We are elves, not clumsy humans."

"Ill remind you of that the next time you trip over

something," Lydia muttered.

"I never—"

The bardling held up a warning hand. "First we find

an inn. Then we quarrel!"

That got grudging chuckles from everyone.

Well, what do you know? the pleased Kevin told him-

self. Maybe I am starting to get the knack a/being a leader!

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 137

But before he could congratulate himself too much,

a shout from the far side of the square made them all

start and whirl.

Oh-no, not now.

"Well, well," murmured Lydia. "Look who found us.

It's the Gang of Things."

"Ugly, aren't they?" Tich'ki mocked. "Bet they make

even uglier corpses."

Kevin couldn't be so casual about it. Somewhere

along the way. Empty Eyes had picked up a few more

supporters. "There are ten of them," he pointed out to

Lydia and Tich'ki, "and only five of us."

"They are also," the warrior woman reminded

Kevin, "nicely within bowshot." She nocked arrow to

bow in one swift, fluid movement. "Come on," Lydia

taunted the enemy. "Come and die."

"You have only the one bow, woman," Empty Eyes

purred. "And I have some tricks of my own."

Faster than a striking snake, he thrust out his hand,

shouting out a savage Word of Power. Lydia cried out

in shock as her bowstring snapped in two.

"That's better," Empty Eyes said. "Take them!"

Kevin had barely enough time to whip out his sword

before the gang was upon them. They've got swords! a

startled part of his mind noted. What's a street gang doing

with something as expensive as swords?

They had to be in someone's pay. Selden? No, he

had the guards at his beck and call. Then who... ?

No time to worry about it. Ten against five was ter-

rible odds, no matter what Lydia and Tich'ki thought.

Naitachal had summoned up his sorcerous black

blade again — but Empty Eyes only laughed, moving

to counter its attack with a dead gray blade of his own.

Naitachal's eyes widened in surprise and the other elf

laughed anew.

"That's right. Dark Elf. Some of us have played with

sorcery, too."

138 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

Kevin lost the rest of chat conversation as a sinuous

being that seemed some unholy cross of man and

snake lunged at him, sword in scaly hand. The

bardling parried, two-handed, just in time, the shock of

impact shivering all the way up to his shoulders. He

staggered back, closely followed by his foe, who moved

every bit as fluidly and unpredictably as a serpent

I don't know what style of fencing he's using! I — I've never

seen it before and I don't know how —

Kevin's frantic thought ended in a gasp as he came up

hard against the rim of the fountain. The being grinned

at him, a flash of alarmingly sharp fangs, and lunged yet

again. Trapped, Kevin did the only thing he could, and

leaped up onto the rim, slashing down at the being, who

was cutting savagely at his legs. Suddenly inspired, Kevin

sprang aside and down, into (he wide basin of the foun-

tain, just as the being lunged. The creature's blade

danged harshly against stone, and Kevin, remembering

the bandit back in the rocky gorge, hastily brought his

foot down on the flat of the blade as hard as he could.

There was a gratifying snap. The being hissed — his

tongue narrow and forked as that of a snake — and

hurled the broken sword at Kevin's head. The bardling

ducked, tripped over rubble in the basin, and went flat,

narrowly missing cracking his skull against stone.

Before he could catch his breath, the being came hurl-

ing down at him. The bardling grabbed a sinuous

wrist, slippery with scales, and kicked upward. The

being went flying over Kevin's head, landing with a

crash on the cobblestones. The bardling scrambled out

of the fountain, thinking in delighted wonder. Hey, that

really does work!

He wound up just behind the grim Naitachal and

Empty Eyes, even as the Dark Elf countered a vicious

cut at his head. As sorcerous black and gray blades

clashed together, fountains ofblood red sparks flew up,

casting an eerie, fiery glow over the square.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 139

"Sorcerous games," Naitachal panted. "Some of us

haven't let those games destroy our souls."

"Souls?" Empty Eyes taunted. "What are human

things like souls for such as we?"

"You are not like me, you pathetic thing! You.

who've forgotten your own kind!"

"No more than you. Dark ElfT Empty Eyes retorted,

and lunged.

Once more, fiery sparks lit up the square. Kevin

glanced up at the surrounding houses. Didn't anyone

hear or see what was going on? Didn't anyone care?

Someone did. From one side came the sound of

running footsteps and the dashing of mail.

"Oh hell," Lydia said. "Just what we needed: the

guards. Come on, guys, no time for heroics now. Let's

get out of here!"

The gang, equally illegal, thought the same thing,

scattering in all directions. Empty Eyes, panting,

paused long enough to hurl his gray sword at

Naitachal, but the Dark Elf struck it cleanly with his

black blade. Both sorcerous things blazed up in a blind-

ing surge of bloody light and were gone. Oh, blast,

Kevin thought, why was I looking that way just then ?

Vision dazzled, afterimages dancing before his eyes,

Kevin staggered away as best he could, stumbling over

the broken cobblestones. He gasped when someone

grabbed his arm and tried to strike out, but a familiar

voice said:

"It's me. Lydia. It's all right, kid, I had my head

turned away. I can still see where I'm going."

Unfortunately, so could the guards. And a whole

troop of them was flooding into the square, weapons

drawn, far too many to fight.

"Damn," Lydia muttered. "Selden really is out for

blood. No worse damage to a politician than injured

pride." She looked over the grim, well-armed troop

and sighed. "I hate to simply surrender, particularly

140 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

since Selden isn't going to make things comfortable for

us, but..."

"Then don't," Tich'ki snapped.

Hovering in mid-air, wings a blur, she stared at the

guards, shouting out twisting, intricate, commanding

Words in the fairy tongue, her eyes blazing green fire.

And to Kevin's amazement, the guards stopped in

their tracks, blinking in confusion.

"Where'dtheygo...?"

"Coulda sworn they were here a minute ago..."

"Who... ? Who are we looking for... ?"

"Don't know ... can't remember .. - Hey, come on,

guys! Day's not getting any younger, and we have a city

to cover!"

With that, the guards turned and marched away.

"I don't believe it," the bardling gasped. "Tich'ki,

what did you — Tich'ki!"

She came tumbling down into his arms, panting- For

a moment Kevin gingerly held her small body,

astonished at how light she was, even for her small size.

Of course she's light! he realized. Tich'fd's a winged creature;

she has to be lightweight if she's going to get off the ground.

Probably has hollow bones, like a bird or—

A sudden sharp stab in his arm made Kevin gasp and

drop her. The fairy, who'd pinched him with her hard

little fingers, fluttered away, grinning in mischief even

though her eyes were weary. "Whoo-oo! That, I don't

mind telling you, was hard work."

"What was that?" Lydia asked. "That 'influence-

their-minds' spell of yours?"

Tich'ki nodded. "You know it. And you know the

thing works."

"Sure. If you can get enough force into it."

For once, Tich'ki didn't argue. "Right. It's not the

sort of thing I want to do too often." But then her sharp

grin returned. "It'sw much easier lifting purses!"

"I'm sure that's true," Eliathanis cut in coolly. "But

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 141

rather than discuss thieving triumphs, don't you think

we had best find shelter before one or another of our

enemies returns?"

"Excellent idea," Lydia said with a wry little bow. "I

need to repair my bowstring anyhow, curse that filthy

excuse for an elf."

Eliathanis stiffened indignantly, plainly torn be-

tween the evidence of his own eyes and his refusal to

accept that one of his people could sink so low. "Have

you any idea where we should be heading?"

"Yup." Lydia pointed. "North, guys- The inn's called

the Flying Swan. You'll know it by the sign. Innkeeper

doesn't ask awkward questions of his guests and keeps

the beds vermin-free."

"What more could we possibly want?" Naitachal

asked wryly.

Lydia shrugged. "Kevin and I will register as ..."

She glanced the bardling's way, mischief in her eyes.

"As friends. Good friends. Very good friends. Right, my

lover boy?" She grinned as he reddened, and took his

arm. "See you later, everyone!"

Ah well, the bardling told himself resolutely. Let her

have her fun. Not much you can do to stop her, anyhow.

Lydia's teasing aside, it would be wonderful to be in a

nice dean room again, with a nice hot meal and maybe

even — oh miracle of miracles — a soft bed'

Chapter XIV

A half-turn of the hourglass later, Kevin wasn't feeling

quite so smug. Lydia, the bardling's doak draped not quite

conceahngly about herself and her scanty garb, was ding-

ing to his arm, giggling all too convincingly as he signed

the register and tried to act as though "Estban Eitar"

checked into inns with attractive older women all the time.

He was still blushing even after they had settled into

their room — particularly when he saw that the fur-

nishings consisted mosdy of one large bed.

"You could hardly have asked for two beds, sweetie,"

Lydia cooed. "Not and keep up this cuddly-wuddly

pretense." To his utter mortification, she snuggled up

against him, fluttering her eyelashes elaborately, and

pinched his cheek. "Cute li'I* lover boy!"

"Stop that!''

"My, my, you do blush prettily!

"Aw, don't—"

A sharp rap on the closed shutters of the single win-

dow interrupted him. With a silent sigh of relief, Kevin

unlatched the shutters and let; in the rest of their party.

Lydia might be a warrior, but she was far too attractive

for his nerves!

"And you complain about clumsy humans, do you?"

Naitachal was murmuring to Eliathanis as they

climbed into the room.

The White Elf glared." How was I to know the drain-

pipe wasn't secure?"

"You did make a most convincing spider, clinging to

the wall with every digit,"

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 143

"You could have helped me!"

"What, and spoil your acrobatic demonstration?" As

Naitachal removed and neatly shook out the folds of

his black doak, he gave Kevin a secret but undeniable

wink. "Apretty thingitwas, too."

Eliathanis straightened. "I don't think — "

"Apity."

"Uh, fellows?" the bardling cut in. "I know you're

enjoying this bickering, but can we please leave it for

some other time? We've had a rather busy day,

agreed?"

"Oh, agreed." Naitachal raised an eyebrow. "I think

we'd best keep watch tonight. If Eliathanis and I could

dimb up here, so could someone else."

"Empty Eyes?" Kevin asked. "Ah, I mean, that elf,

the leader of the gang." The bardiing paused.

"Whatever he is."

"Empty Eyes," Naitachal echoed darkly. "Well put,

Kevin. Empty, he most surely is. I don't know what his

problems might be, what he's doing here, why he's an

exile from ha dan — Oh, don't give me thathaughty stare,

White Elf, you know I'm right about that And frankly, I

don'tcare about those problems. Ifelt Death hovering over

him. Between drugs and alcohol and botched attempts at

sorcery, he hasn't much longer to live."

"Botched!"

The Dark Elf shrugged. "You've seen my conjured

blade. His should have been just as impressive. But it

was as dull and nearly dead as the fading life force

within him." Naitachal shrugged. "Enough about

him."

"I'd just like to know who hired him," Kevin cut in.

Eliathanis glanced at the bardling in respect. "The

swords those thugs were carrying bothered you, too?

Swords are expensive things; most brigands just can't

afford them, or the time needed to learn how to use

them."

144 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

"Great," Lydia muttered. "Just what we need:

another enemy. The sooner we get out of here, the bet-

ter we're going to sleep,"

"Exactly. And," Kevin added sternly, "that's why we

can't waste any more time. We have to start working on

exacdy how we're going to manage to escape."

"Bossy human," Tich'ki ceased, but for once there

wasn't much sting in her voice. "Ai-yi, I'm getting pretty

tired ofWesterin myself," she confessed. "Too many

touchy guards for my taste. Let's see, now... I can not

control every blasted guard that's going to be watching

the dty gates. Anyone else here able to work invisibility

spells?"

Silence.

"I guess not," the fairy said with a sigh.

"What about illusions, though?" Lydia asked. "What

if we cast some really terrifying illusion, something that

would scare the guards away from one of the gates — "

"By *we' you mean me, I take it?" Naitachal said drily-

He shook his head. "Oh, I probably could work up

something to frighten a human mind, even if illusion-

casting is a bit outside the scope of my... art But these

are trained warriors, not children. Some of them might

run, yes — but the rest would almost certainly attack. I

don't care to test my body against their spears."

"We need something more tangible than illusion,"

Kevin mused. "Shape-shifting... except only one of us

can shape-shift." He glanced at the Dark Elf. "What

about disguising us by magic?"

Naitachal held up a helpless hand. "Now that really

is out of the scope of my sorcery. Anyone else?"

"Hey, don't look at me!" Tich'ki said. "I can't change

anyone but myself."

"I have no such talent," Eliathanis admitted.

"Well, / certainly don't!" Lydia added. "Besides, I've

heard those spells are just as easy to break as illusions.

The last thing we'd want is to suddenly change back

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 145

right in the middle of the guards- And you know. Fate

being the fickle lady she is, that's just what would hap-

pen! No, we need some more mundane disguises.

Something that doesn't depend on magic... Naw, any

ordinary disguises would be too easy to penetrate."

"Would they?" Kevin wondered- "Go on, Lydia.

Whatofroid physical disguises?"

She gave him a doubtful glance, but continued,

"Well, let's see ... By now both the gang and the

guards know they're looking for three men and a

woman: two humans and two elves, one Dark, one

White. Don't have to worry about disguising Tich'ki."

The fairy stretched her wings. "Right. I can always

shrink and hide in your hair, the way we did when we

were getting out ofSmithian."

"But it's hard to hide elves...."

"Not too easy to disguise such a ... charmingly

endowed woman, either," Naitachal added gallandy.

Lydia raised a brow. "Flattery from a Dark Elf?"

His smile was wry. "ltdoes happen."

""Yes, yes, I know you're full of surprises," Kevin in-

terrupted. "But can we please get back to the subject?"

'Jealous?" Tich'ki prodded.

"No! I just don't want to spend the rest of my life in a

Westerin prison. Or a Westerin graveyard, either'"

"Right." Lydia returned to her musing. "All right.

We agree that it's hard to disguise elves."

Naitachal held up a hand. "To disguise male

elves ..." he corrected slowly. "Particularly serious,

combative types." He turned to look at Eliachanis, who

narrowed his eyes.

"I don't think I like what you're thinking."

Naitachal shrugged. "You're the one who was ..,

interrogating the dancing girls. I'm sure they'd be

happy to help their dear elfy-welty."

"They didn't call me that! And I can't — I won't..."

The Dark Elf smiled alarmingly. "You can. You will.

146 Mercedes Lackey (^Josepha Sherman

They did. Listen to me, my friends. I think we're about

to find a way out ofWesterin!"

Kevin squirmed uncomfortably in the saddle of the

riding mule, trying to get the yards and yards of gauzy,

gaudy skirts to spread out properly, grimly trying to

ignore the pretty chiming of little silver bells every dme

he moved.

"Don't squirm, dear," Lydia cooed. "It tears threads."

Kevin glared at her. The warrior was a sugar-sweet

confection, her tanned face softened with powder and

paint, her lithe, muscular form disguised by a frilly

bodice and layer after layer of gauzy skirts in a dozen

shades of pink. A silky cloak of dusty rose shot through

with gold threads was thrown over the whole thing, her

black curls — and Tich'ki — hidden under its cowl. Yes,

but at least she's a woman! I feel like an idiot.

What made it worse was that he knew he looked

rather alarmingly like a girl in all this frippery: a slight-

ly scrawny one, perhaps, a bit too athletic even for a

dancer, but a girl nevertheless. The bardling rubbed a

reflexive hand over his chin, not sure whether to be

discouraged or glad right now that at almost sixteen he

still didn't need to shave very often. Smooth cheeks

would help the illusion.

If only the illusion wasn't quite so good!

Eliathanis, riding beside Naitachal, was plainly feel-

ing the same way, sitting his mule in silent misery.

Kevin bit back a laugh. What a pretty girl the White Elf

made!

Both elves were, of course, slim and beardless as all

their kind, and despite Eliathanis' martial calling, their

long, silky hair and elegant, fine-boned faces made it

quite easy for them to pass as women. Naitachal's dark

skin had been lightened to a more nondescript tan with

judicious use of powder, making him look more like a

half-elven hybrid than a perilous Dark Elf.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 147

Unlike the unhappy Eliathanis, he seemed to be

having a wonderful time.

After <tU, Kevin mused, how often does a necromancer get

a chance to act silly?

It had been Eliathanis' dancing girls, of course, who

had lent them all this gear, with the understanding that

it would be left for the dancers to gather up again out-

side the walls. The dancers, the bardling decided, were

definitely getting the better of the deal, winding up

with what was left of Lydia's not quite honesdy gained

coins as well as getting their gear back.

Well, actually, it was Councilman Selden who was

paying for the whole thing. In a manner of speaking,

anyhow.

Kevin censed suddenly. There to one side stood

Empty Eyes, the elven leader of the street gang.

"Gently," Naitachal murmured. "You're a harmless

dancing girl, that's all you are." The Dark Elf

straightened slightly, startled, then chuckled. "Well

now, what do you know?" he continued softly. "Our

disguises really do work! Did you feel that slight tin-

glingjust now?"

"Yes."

"That dissipated shame of an elf tried casting a Dis-

pel Magic spell on us!"

Naitachal leaned sideways in the saddle to give

Empty Eyes a flirtatious wink and a blown kiss- Kevin

exploded into laughter, just in time managing to turn it

into girlish titterings.

"L-look at his face! He — he — he doesn't know

what hit him!"

Naitachal swept back his silky hair with a toss of his

head. "loo skinny for my taste!" he declared in a light

tenor so unlike his usual baritone that Kevin burst into

laughter all over again.

Eliathanis shot the Dark Elf a dour glance. "Stop

that! Show some — some self-control!"

148 Mercedes Lackey ^SJosepha Sherman

Naitachal grinned. "Loosen up, dear! You look

ravishing."

"Leave me alone, will you? Or are you really enjoy-

ing this?"

The Dark Elf's grin widened. "Of course I am!

Come now, cousin-elf, where's the harm in it? It's

rather fun to play pretend!"

Eliathanis only growled. Kevin wiped his eyes, trying

not to smear his makeup, hearing Tich'ki, there in

Lydia's hair, tittering so hard she was having trouble

catching her breath.

"Straighten up, dears," Lydia cooed. "Here are the

guards. Look pretty, now!"

Kevin tensed all over again, seeing the men's grim-

faced competence, the weapons never far from their

hands, hearing the guards muttering something about

"Selden" and "Those thieves aren't going to get past

us." Sure, their disguise had been good enough Co fool

Empty Eyes, who had probably been drunk or half-

drugged anyhow. But these were sharp-eyed

professionals. Could it possibly fool them as well?

Apparendy it could. "Look at the girl in pink," one

said, nudging another. "Bet she'd warm a cold night!"

"Warm it, hell, she'd set it on fire!"

"The one next to her's not bad, either." Mortified,

Kevin realized they were discussing him now.

"Awfully stringy," someone muttered.

"But there's something to be said for those acrobatic

types!" The guard who'd first spoken leered up at the

bardling. "Come on, sweetie, give us a kiss for the

road."

Feeling tike a prize idiot, Kevin managed to work his

lips into what he hoped was a flirtatious smile. To his

horror, the guard reached up, trying to pull his head

down. Before the bardling could panic, Naitachal

leaned down to whisper conspiratorially:

"You don't want to kiss her."

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 149

"Oh, I don't, do I?"

"Heavens, no! The last man she kissed got so hot and

worked up he followed her for days. We finally had to

throw him in a lake to cool him off. You would not have

believed thesteam\"

All the guards laughed. "Hetyou could raise some

steam," one of them shouted.

"Oh, darling, you wouldn't believe what 1 can do!"

Naitachal gave them all a dazzling smile- "My, my, my,

what handsome fellows you all are! What a shame we have

to leave just now." The very essence of a delighted

dancing girl, the Dark Elf laughed and simpered and

blew kisses at them all- Only Kevin caught the faint hint

of contempt flickering in the kohl-rimmed blue eyes.

"Now, we really must say good-bye," Naitachal said,

pretending to pout- "We have sitch a long way to go!"

"Stay here, then!"

"Oh, darlings, Vdadors that. But..." He waved a help-

less hand. "What wauM the troop do without me? They

would be simply lest, the poor dears. Ta-ta, darlings!"

Fun was fun, but once they were safely out of sight of

the city walls, the party was of one mind, searching

until they'd found a small pool screened by a grove of

trees. Kevin practically threw himself from his mule

and gladly stripped off his girlish finery, scrubbing and

scrubbing till he'd washed every last trace of paint and

powder from his face.

"Ugh. Can't see how women can stand wearing all

that stuff."

"Frankly, neither can I!" Lydia straightened, shaking

out her damp black hair and tousling the curls dry with

her hands. "I mean, I like looking nice as much as any

other woman." She winked at Kevin. "You should see

me when I dress up pretty! But all thatstuff I was wear-

ing just now made me feel like I was carrying a prison

around with me!"

150 Mercedes Lackey ^josepha Sherman

In the middle of strapping on her sword, she

paused, looking out over the lake, eyebrows raised.

"My, isn't that a pleasant sight!"

Naitachal, some distance away, had stripped to the

waist to wash off the last of the disguising powder. His

body was inhumanly slim and graceful but undeniably

male, smooth musdes rippling and dark skin gleaming

with every move. Realizing the others were watching

him, he disappeared into the bushes, emerging

shrouded once more in his black cloak. And now every

trace of frivolity was gone.

It's almost as though he was drunk before, and now he's sober

again, Kevin thought.

Maybe that wasn't so bizarre an idea. After all, for a

Dark Elf, a necromancer used to a grim world of sor-

cery and death, being suddenly thrown into the middle

of so much vibrant, busy life really must have been

intoxicating!

As the bardling retrieved his lute from the pile of

dancing girls' gear, he heard Naitachal mutter:

"Powers, I'm glad that's over."

"I thought you were enjoying yourself." Eliathanis'

voice was cool with disapproval.

Naitachal glanced sharply at the White Elf- "Up to a

point. One moment more, though, and I think I would

have thrown up."

"From fright?" Kevin asked in disbelief.

"Hardly!" The Dark Elf gave him a fierce Bttle grin.

"From a surfeit of sugar!"

Chapter XV

As the party rode up the gentle slope from the river

plain in which Westerin lay, Kevin suddenly reined in

his mule. "Lydia, if we have to retrace all our steps back

to Count Volmar's castle, we're going to waste too

much time."

"Agreed. Besides, I don't want to risk going through

that gorge again, either; one ambush is more than

enough, thank you." The woman hesitated, chewing

thoughtfully on her lip. "I do know a much shorter

route. The only thing is... well -.. let's put it this way:

anybody have any objections about riding through a

battlefield?"

"Awhat?"

"An ancient one. I'm not even sure what the whole

thing was all about, it happened so long ago. Shouldn't

be anything left to bother us." She shot an uneasy

glance at the Dark Elf. "Unless, of course, someone

tries to disturb things."

Naitachal's eyes glinted coldly. " I am not in the habit

of rousing that which should not be roused. Lead on."

Kevin struggled against the urge to keep looking

over his shoulder. This was ridiculous! An easy ride, a

nice, bright, sunny day, a smooth, grassy meadow

stretching out before him without any obstructions at

all and a splendid array of mountains in the distance —

there was not the slightest thing to fear.

Then why oh why was his mind insisting on sending

these constant thrills of nervousness through him?

152 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

"Naitachal," the bardling asked uneasily. "Is this. ..

was this..."

"The battlefield?" The Dark Elf's voice sounded

strained and distant. "Yes... you would sense that, too,

wouldn't you. Bard-to-be that you are? So many lives

lost, human and Other ... I can feel their auras even

now, calling to me...."

"Well, don't answer them!" Lydia snapped, and

Naitachal blinked like someone suddenly shaken from

a dream.

"No," he said, and then more confidently, "no!"

But as they rode on across the meadow, the others

could see shudders racking his slender frame. The

Dark Elf was plainly fighting some terrible inner battle

of his own, struggling against all the long, cruel years of

childhood conditioning screaming at him, You are a crea-

twe of the Darkness! Leave the light behind you!

Unexpectedly, Eliathanis brought his mule

alongside. "Take my hand," he said softly.

"What—"

"Take it. Hold fast. Yes, like that. Think of sunlight,

Naitachal. Think of life and joy. They are the only

realities here."

Kevin saw the White Elf wince with the force of

Naitachal's desperate grasp- But Eliathanis refused to

let go, as though willing peace into the Dark Elf

through that link.

And little by little the tension left Naitachal's body.

He shuddered one last time, then released the White

Elf's hand, looking at Eliathanis in confusion.

"Thank you," the Dark Elf said after a moment. "I hard-

ly expected you to wish to help me, but— thank you."

"Ah. Well." Eliathanis flushed, embarrassed by his

own kindness. "I... didn't want you rousing anything

undead against us."

"I wouldn't willingly." Then Naitachal added, very

softly, "But it was a near thing."

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 153

Alatan, sorcerer, necromancer, paced impatiently

back and forth on the ramparts of his small, square

keep, glancing now and then out over the smooth,

treeless expanse of meadow without really seeing it.

He was alone up there, the only living being in all the

keep, alone save for a few silent, soulless aides.

"Damn her!" he hissed.

And damn him for a fool for ever letting himself be

forced to be responsible to her! So much time had

passed without a word from her. He'd almost let him-

self believe the rumors that the sorceress was dead, or

so far from here that she'd forgotten all about him and

the debt he owed her: the debt of his life.

Oh no. She hadn't forgotten. All at once there had

come that summons, and with it the infuriating

knowledge that he still wasn't free, any more than he'd

been free so many years ago... when the peasants had

caught him weak from the aftereffects of a failed spell,

had caught him and condemned him to death by

fire-- -.

The sorcerer stopped short, black cloak swirling

about him. Unbidden, his mind conjured up the

hardwood stake as clearly as though it were with him

now instead of far in the past, the stake and the chains

pressing him cruelly back against it, his hands bound

so he couldn't gesture, his mouth sealed with a wooden

gag so he couldn't call out the slightest spell, and the

flames crackling at the wood beneath him, the heat

already starting to eat at his feet, his legs...

Alatan spat out a savage curse, forcing his mind back

to the present. It was done, he was safe, and he should

have banished such ridiculous memories long ago!

The sorcerer resumed his angry padng. What non-

sense this was! He had seen and done and summoned

horrors enough during his career, horrors that would

have sent any other man screaming — aye, and he'd

154 Mercedes Lackey ^josepha Sheman

seen many of those horrors do him homage, too. He

would not act like some raw boy haunted by his own

mind!

Ah, no. Fear wasn't the problem. What truly rankled,

what stayed in his mind after all this rime was having to

admit chat for all his Power, he hadn't been able to do a

thing to save himself. Oh no, ifCarlotta hadn't chanced to

see what was happening, chose stupid, fearful peasants

would have won and he would be ashes in the wind, spirit

lost in the Outer Dark. If she hadn't seen, and thought,

and realized what a fine tool was about to be lost —

"Damn her," Alatan repeated aloud, but by now

most of the anger was gone from his voice. A tool he

was, and a tool he would remain till the debt of his life

was repaid. No successful sorcerer survived by denying

What Must Be. And he dare not fail.

Grimly resigned, Alatan went down from the ram-

parts to his private chambers, to a dark room crowded

with sorcerous implements. A few careful Words of

Power sparked a silver-rimmed scrying mirror into life.

Alatan focused his will, bringing into sharp focus an

image of the boy, the bardling, and those with whom he

rode- A woman... a warrior by the lithe look other...

and quite human. He smiled coldly. No threat there.

The others .. . The sorcerer's mouth tightened. A

White Elf, that one, but again, a warrior, not a mage.

And again, no threat to him. But that other Figure,

draped all in black ... Alatan frowned and leaned for-

ward, staring. Whoever, whatever was shrouded under

that cloak knew at least enough to block anything more

than this casual scan.

You may yet be trouble, rny mysterious friend.

And then again, there might not be any trouble at all.

For look at the direction in which they rode! Tensing in

sudden predatory delight, hardly believing his good

fortune, the sorcerer urged them. Further, ridejttst a Uule

further....

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

155

With a sharp crack! the mirror shattered. Alatan

sprang back in shock, dodging shards of glass. No

doubt about it: that black-dad figure was another sor-

cerer! No, no, more than that: the stranger could only

be a necromancer. No one else could have forced his

spell back on itself so powerfully.

Alatan's laugh was sharp as the glass. So, now! It had

been long and long rill he'd found an enemy worthy of

combat! Burning with eagerness,'the sorcerer sprang

to his feet. calling for his undead servants, and hurried

down to the meadow below, to the field of battle-once-

was and battle-yet-to-be.

Naitachal straightened as sharply in the saddle as

though he'd been slapped. Eyes blazing with sudden

sorcerous force, he gestured imperiously, shouting out

savage, alien Words that tore at Kevin's ears and sent

the mules shying wildly.

"Naitachal!" Lydia yelped, struggling to keep her

seat. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Reining in his own panicky, curvetting mule, the

Dark Elf said shortly, "Someone was spying on us.

Through sorcery. I turned his spell back upon him."

Eliathanis tensed. "Then it wasn't my imagination

just now. I really did sense ... something." His hand

tightened on the hilt of his sword. "Do you know who

the sorcerer is, or where?"

"Who, no. Where: nearby. But I've shattered his

scrying tool."

"That's not going to be the end of it."

"I doubt it." Naitachal glanced sharply about, a

predator hunting elusive prey. "The sooner we are

dear of this batdefield-that-was, the bettor."

And then the earth shook. Kevin's mule screamed in

terror, rearing up so violently the bardling went flying.

He twisted frantically in mid-air, landing with a jolt on

his feet, lute smacking him in the side, noting out of the

156 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

corner of his eye that only Naitachal had managed to

keep his seat and staring as the meadow writhed, tear-

ing itself apart. Out of the shattered earth rose:

No. That's notpossible, his mind insisted, over and over.

Climbing up into the land of the living were the

long-dead, the skeletons of humans and Others, the

fallen victims of that now-forgotten battle returned,

fleshless skulls grinning, fleshless hands gripping

swords and axes. Sightless sockets stared blankly at the

horrified living.

Behind them, wrapped in a cloak as black as that

worn by Naitachal stood a figure who could only be the

necromancer who'd dragged them forth. All Kevin

could see of the face under the dark hood were a gray

beard — proof the man at least was human — and

fierce, pitiless gray eyes: sorcerous eyes. In the man's

hand a wooden staff topped with a serpentine carving

crackled with blue-white force.

To his right, the bardling heard Naitachal let out his

breath in a long hiss. "So..." the Dark Elf said softly. "I

thought as much."

He flung himself from his frantic mule, slapping it

out of the way of his magic. "Get out of here, all of you."

Eliathanis' sword glinted in his hand. "Are you mad?

We can't leave you here alone!"

"You can't fight what isn't alive! Get out of here!"

But it was already loo late. The other sorcerer thrust

out his staff, and the undead army charged.

"You shall no;!" With that, Naitachal shouted out

fierce, ugly, commanding Words in the harsh language

of sorcery, hurling his arms up in denial. The skeletal

enemy stumbled back from the force of his will — but

behind them,'the human necromancer cast up his own

arms, staff raised, shouting out his own dark spell.

Kevin, near-Bard that he was, saw the psychic flames of

sorcery that blazed out from both foes, crashing

together in a shower ofblinding, blue-white sparks. He

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 157

heard Naitachal gasp at the impact, but the Dark Elf's

will held firm.

So, unfortunately, did that of the human foe.

But as the sorcerers stood locked in their savage,

silent battle, both lost their hold on the skeletal war-

riors. They, empty things that they were, followed the

only command they had received, and resumed their

interrupted charge.

"Look out!" Lydia cried. "Here they come!"

Kevin gripped his sword as tightly as he could, trying

not to let it shake in his hand. Powers, Powers, how do you

hurt a skeleton?

All at once, the arch of sorcery vanished with a roar

of whirling air. Naitachal shouted out new Words of

command, the sound alien, hating, the essence of Dark

Elf necromancy. The Words enfolding the undead

bending them to his will. For a moment the deadly

things hesitated, caught, quivering with the strain.

Then, slowly, they turned to threaten the human

necromancer instead. His eyes widened in shock, and

for a moment Kevin thought the man was going to

break from sheer surprise. But after that startled

moment, the gray eyes blazed up in renewed fury. The

necromancer thrust out his staff with such force the

undead reeled and fell back — only to be caught anew

in the net ofNaitachaI's Power.

"Th-the/re fighdngeach other!" the bardling gasped.

"They're fighting their own battle all over again!"

Well and good, but not all the skeletal army had found

foes. Some of them came spilling up towards the living.

Lydia loosed an arrow — but it passed harmlessly

through a fleshless rib cage.

"Damn!"

"Try for their joints," Eliathanis said grimly. "Cut

those apart, and the creatures cannot move."

Kevin didn't have time to worry about it. He just

barely had a chance to put his lute aside before a

158 Mercedes Lackey ^josepha Sherman

skeleton headed right towards him, axe raised. The

bardling could have sworn that fieshless grin had sen-

dent malice behind it-

Can't parry an axe with a sword. But an axeman can't be as

quick as a swordsman; once he's swung, it has to take him a

moment to recover, and — Now!

As the axe came whistling down, Kevin threw him-

self to one side, slashing out sideways with his sword.

He missed the knee joint, the blade clanging harmless-

ly off bone. But at least the impact staggered the

skeleton slightly; it might be an undead thing, but it

was still subject to the force of gravity! Kevin swung

again, hoping to knock it over completely, but to his

horror, a skeletal hand shot out and closed on the

blade.

Of course, of course, he — it — doesn't have any fingers to

get cut!

The thing was far, far stronger than anything mor-

tal. Kevin struggled helplessly with it, clutching the

sword hilt with both hands — only to have the skeleton,

still grinning its inane grin, begin reeling him in, bony

hand over hand up the blade. If he kept holding onto

the hilt, Kevin realized, he was going to be dragged

into the skeleton's reach.

So he suddenly let go. To his relief, the skeleton,

which had been braced against his weight, went right

over backwards. Kevin kicked it as hard as he could,

and heard ribs crack, but the thing was already climb-

ing back to its feet, apparendy unhurt.

And it's still got my sword and its axe!

Now, what?

The bardling backed away, looking about for a

branch, a rock, anything he could use as a weapon. He

found a rock, all right: he stepped on it, and the

treacherous thing turned under his foot, sending him

sprawling.

As the skeleton lunged down at him, Kevin did the

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 159

only thing he could think of: he caught the bony arms,

and kicked his legs up with all his force, just as he had

with the swordsman back in Westerin. To his amazed

wonder, he sent the skeleton sailing neady over his

head, to land with a satisfying crash. It lost his sword in

the fall, and the bardling snatched up the weapon,

hacking and hacking at the undead thing before it

could rise till he'd cut right through its skeletal neck.

The skeleton collapsed in a bony heap.

/—laid it! I won!

Fierce with triumph, die bardling looked about to see

how everyone else was faring. Lydia and Eliathanis were

surrounded, fighting back to back, skeletal hands snatch-

ing at them fi-om all sides, while Tich'ki, swearing savagely,

tried in vain to ward offthe undead with her spear.

I've got to help them before —

A bony hand closed with painful force about his

ankle. Headless or not, the skeleton was still very much

animated.

"No! Curse you, no' No!" Nearly sobbing with

panicky strain, Kevin hacked and hacked and hacked

at the hand till it shattered, releasing him. But the

headless horror was getting to its feet once more.

This is impossible! The thing is never going to gwe up!

No, it wouldn't, the bardling realized. None of the

undead would. Not while the human necromancer's

spell bound them.

Panting, Kevin glanced to where the Dark Elf stood.

Naitachal was still battling his foe as fiercely as ever,

eyes blazing with will. But to the bardling's alarm, signs

of strain showed all too clearly on the elegant face. Of

course! Determined though he was, strong magician

though he was, the Dark Elf had no sorcerous staff to

feed him extra Power, nothing but the strength within

his own slim body.

He c-can't hold out much longer, Kevin realized, not

without help! But I don't know any spell-songs to help him!

160 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

Wait a minute. .. Maybe he didn't know any useful

Bardic Magic — but maybe he wouldn't need it! Didn't

all the old ballads claim when magic failed, plain com-

mon sense would save the day? There was one very

practical thing he could do.

Before the headless monstrosity could grab him

again, Kevin snatched up the rock that had tripped

him, hefting its weight experimentally in his hand as

he ran, radng past the battle ofundead against undead

till nothing stood between him and the enemy sorcerer.

If he sees me now, I'm dead.

But the necromancer, absorbed in his magical

trance, showed not the slightest sign he knew the

bardling was there.

Please, ohplease, let this work....

Kevin threw the rock with all his strength- Ha, yes! It

hit the necromancer smartly on the side of the head!

The man staggered helplessly back, trance shattered,

and from the other side of the field, Naitachal gave a

hoarse cry of triumph as his magic blazed free. A blue-

white bolt of magic slashed through the air, engulfing

his human foe in flame. Frozen with shock, Kevin

heard the necromancer give one wild scream of pain

and terror. Then that sorcerous flame flared up so fier-

cely the bardling flung his arms protectively up over

his eyes.

It took no more than a few heartbeats' rime. The fire

vanished as swiftly as it had begun. Kevin warily

lowered his arms, fearful of what he might see. But

there was nothing, not man, not cloak, not staff, noth-

ing but a small swirling ofash-

The necromancer's death shattered the binding

spell. As simply as puppets with cut strings, the undead

fell where they'd stood, the jumble of their bones melt-

ing quietly back into the earth. In only a few moments,

the meadow had returned to grassy serenity, and noth-

ing at all remained of the horror that had just been.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 161

I don't believe... IcouUn't have seen...

Kevin hurried back to Ehathanis, Lydia, and Tich'ld,

suddenly wanting nothing so much as to be near other

warm, living, mortal beings. Ah, he was glad to clasp

their hands, glad to let Lydia hug him and to hug her

back, glad even to feel Tich'ki tousle his hair with

rough affection. All three started at the same dme:

"Are you hurt? I'm — "

'Tm not, not—"

" — really. Just bruised and — "

"—tired and—"

They broke off at the same time, too, then burst into

laughter.

"Hey, Naitachal!" Lydia called. "Don't you —

Naitachal?"

Arigid figure swarthed in his somber cloak, the Dark

Elf never moved from where he stood.

"Naitachal?" Eliathanis echoed hesitantly. "Are

you ... ?"

Without a sound, the Dark Elf crumpled to the

ground and lay still.

INTERLUDE THE FOURTH

"My lord. My Lord Count."

Volmar, hurrying down the corridors of his castle,

grit his teeth, trying to ignore that dry, precise voice,

but it. continued relentlessly:

"Count Volmar. Please stop for a moment."

The count sighed silently. When D'Krikas got an

idea m its insecloid head, nothing would do but to hear

the Arachnia out. Reluctantly, he turned to ask, "Yes-

Whatisit?"

"You told me yesterday that you would read and sign

these scrolls today."

Curse it! An Arachnia never forgot anything^.

I don't have time for this nonsense now!

Carlotta was hidden in the count's solar, studying

her scrying mirror, and if he wasn't there when she

learned whatever she learned — He didn't dare let the

sorceress gain any advantages over him.

"These are nothing," Volmar said, glancing at the

scrolls. "Small matters. Sign them yourself."

D'Krikas1 silence held a world of disapproval.

"All right, all right!" The count held up a helpless

hand. "I'll sign them later. I don't have time now."

"No. I can see that."

Something in the dry voice made Volmar stare up at

the Arachnia. And all at once, the count felt the smallest

prickle of unease run through him. Usually he

managed to ignore the fact that his seneschal wasn't

human; D'Krikas kept pretty much to itself, after all, so

quietly efficient Volmar could almost forget the being

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 163

was there. Efficient, yes, meticulously so. The castle was

never going to be short so much as a single copper coin

or a loaf of bread as long as the Arachnia was in charge.

But in this narrow, dose corridor, D'Krikas seemed

Co loom over him. Volmar had never stopped to realize

just how tall an adult Arachnia grew, how tall and thin

and alien, so alien .. . The great, compound eyes

studied him without blinking, the shiny chidn, half hid-

den by the being's cloak, gave off a faint, spicy scent

that was never a human scent, and Volmar, all at once

overwhelmed, forced out a brash:

"You don't like me, do you?"

D'Krikas drew back slightly in surprise. "What has

'like' or 'dislike' to do with matters? When my home

hive grew overcrowded, I left co ease the burden of

feeding all. I swore the proper oath to your father. You

know that. I keep my oaths. You know that, too. I

served your father the count and I serve you, as I will

continue to serve the master of this castle, whomever

that may be. As long as honor is not compromised."

Was there a hint of warning in the precise voice? Vol-

mar fought down a shudder. He had once seen

D'Krikas save a servant's child from a rabid dog by

calmly tearing the beast in two with those segmented,

fragile-seeming arms, neatly and effortlessly as a man

would tear a piece of parchment. And that precise

Arachnia beak could sever bone. Everyone knew the

one thing no Arachnia could endure was a loss of

honor. If D'Krikas somehow suspected — No, no, that

was ridiculous! No Arachnia wielded magic, and

without magic, even clever D'Krikas would never be

able to learn how his master was aiding the crown's

worse foe.

"Your honor will not be compromised," Volmar said

shortly.

He sent a page for pen and ink and signed the scrolls

one after another, hardly bothering to read them, and

164 Mercedes Lackey ^fJosepha Sherman

hurried off, D'Krikas' speculative gaze hot on his back.

Carlotta never looked up from her scrying mirror as

he entered, but Votmar knew she could tell perfectly

well by her arcane senses who he was.

"I don't believe it." The sorceress straightened in her

chair, voice sharp with disbelief." I simply don'tbelieve it"

"Don't believe what?" Volmar craned his neck, trying

his best to see past the woman to the mirror. But to his

frustration, what he could see of the images looked, to

his non-sorcerous sight, like nothing more than blurs

of color swirling on the smooth surface. "What's hap-

pening? What's wrong?"

"That ridiculous nuisance of a boy just killed

Alatan!"

"The sorcerer?" Volmar gasped. "But that's impos-

sible! The boy is just a bardling, a nothing! Come now,

Carlotta, from what I've seen of him, he couldn't have

managed enough Bardic Magic, or any other kind of

magic strong enough to — "

"He threw a rock." Each word was savagely bitten

off. "It was the Dark Elf who did the rest. Ann, damn

him, damn them both!" She glanced sharply up at Vol-

mar. "You wovM include a Dark Elfin the party!"

"Hey now, don't blame me!" the count exclaimed. "It

wasn't my idea. Not mine alone, anyhow. We both

agreed having one of that cursed breed in the group

would help discredit the unholy elven lot."

"Unholy, is it?" Carlotta purred, her eyes narrowing

to green slits. "In all the years I've known you, Volmar,

you've never yet been able to shed this obsessive hatred

of the elf-kind. It is beginning to grow quite . - -

wearisome."

Oh Powers. He'd forgotten all about her being half

of fairy blood. Horrified, Volmar remembered the

woman's quick temper, and realized he might just have

doomed himself.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 165

"I d-don't," he stammered, struggling to find the

words to soothe her, "I didn't— I — I mean..."

Ignoring his helpless attempts at placation, she

returned to studying her mirror.

"Poor Alatan," Carlotta murmured after a moment,

without a hint of softness in her voice. "Poor fool. For

all your Power, you never could control the weaknesses

within your own mind. You let yourself be haunted all

these many years by the memory of flame. And now the

fire has snared you after all." Her chuckle was soft and

chillingly cold. "What a pity."

She was silent for a moment longer, staring into the

mirror. Volmar stood frozen, hardly daring to breathe,

wondering what other bad news the woman was going

to announce.

He jumped when Carlotta straightened with a sharp

little cry. "So-o! Is that the way of it?" She glanced quick-

ly up at the count again, one eyebrow raised in

surprise- "It appears that at least the late Alatan

managed to take die Dark Elf with him."

"Did he, now?" Volmar breathed an inner sigh of

relief. "One less would-be hero to concern us."

With a wave other hand and a commanding Word,

Carlotta banished the images, and got resdessly to her feet

"Yes, one dead elf, but the others remain. And with that

cursed hunter, that warrior-woman, to guide them, such a

small party is going to be able to elude almost anything."

Well now, wasn't this interesting! For once the mighty

Carlotta seemed to actually be at a loss! Her pet

necromancer's death must have shaken her more than

she'd admitted.

Volmar straightened in dour delight. Good. Let her

know for a change what it felt like to be uneasy and un-

sure. And in the meantime, let him at last take charge of

the situation!

"Never mind," the count said, his voice gende with

false concern. "Let them come."

166 Mercedes lackey ^Josefsha Shennan

She glared at him. "Have you gone mad?"

"Please. Hear me out Don't, hinder them, I say." Vol-

mar smiled at her, enjoying her confusion. "Who

knows? While the boy is here, perhaps he'll find that

elusive manuscript for us."

"Yes. but—"

"Carlotta, my dear princess, you worry too much."

"Don't patronize me." It was all the more alarming

for having been quiedy said.

"I didn't mean — "

"Ah, but you did."

He could have sworn she hadn't done anything

more than raise a hand. But suddenly Volmar was - -.

nowhere, floating helplessly in empty grayness with no

sense of up, no down, no light; or dark or life... Chok-

ing, the count fought in vain to breathe, but oh gods,

there was no air here, either. His lungs were aching, his

heart was pounding painfully, he was dying....

Carlotta, no! Please, no!

All at once there was a real world about him once

more. All at once he was fallen to hands and knees on a

hard stone floor, able to think of nothing but drawing

air into his lungs.

After a time, Volmar realized he was back in his

casde, with Cariotta standing over him, face impassive.

"Never underestimate me, either," she murmured.

The count dragged himself to his feet, collapsing

into a chair, bathed in cold perspiration. "Never," he

echoed weakly.

Illusion. It had to have been illusion. He couldn't

have actually left this realm. He couldn't really have

just been trapped in — in that deadly emptiness.

Volmar took a deep breath. "You misunderstand

me." He forced a ghost of sincerity into his voice. "I

never meant to belittle you. Nor," the count added

honesdy, "to deny your powers."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow, then smiled sweetly.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 167

"No. You wouldn't dare, would you? All right.

Continue."

"This is my castle, these are my people. What, did

you think I'd been idle all this while?" Little by little,

Volmar felt self-confidence stealing back into him. Of

course it had been illusion. "Once the boy and his

misguided comrades are actually here, I have a few

surprises of my own to spring on them. And I don't

believe," the count added with dark humor, "that

they will enjoy them."

Chapter XVI

"Naitachal!"

Eliathanis raced to the fallen elf's side, dosely followed

by the others. Kevin got there an instant before Lydia and

the fluttering Tich'ki, dropping to his knees beside

Naitachal's still form. The White Elf glanced across at the

bardlmg,gi-eeneyeswide."Id-don'tt.hmkhe'sbreathing."

"Oh no, that can't be right, he has to be!"

Kevin hastily snatched up a dark wrist. For a panic-

stricken, seemingly endless while, he couldn't find any

pulse at all.

Come on, come on, you can't he dead, not now.

All at once the bardling felt... yes. Kevin released

Naitachal's wrist with a sigh of relief. "He's alive. I...

think he's just asleep. Deeply asleep. That sorcerous

duel must really have worn him out."

Eliathanis shuddered faintly. "Yes." He straightened

slowly, fussing with the set of his now sadly tattered

cloak, plainly struggling to regain his composure. "Of

course it did. I should have realized that."

Well, what do you, know? Kevin stared at the White Elf

in surprise. You really were worried about him!

Not that such revelations mattered right now. Kevin

glanced doubtfully down at Naicachal. Sleeping like

this on bare ground couldn't be doing the Dark Elf any

good. Particularly not on this ground. Everybody else

seemed to be too battle-dazed to suggest anything, so

the bardling said as firmly as he could:

"Eliathanis, why don't you see if you can coax our

mules back here?"

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 169

"Ah. Yes."

"And, Lydia, can you help me lift Naitachal? The

sooner we get him — and us — away from here, the

better."

"Right."

For all his worry and ever-growing weariness, the

bardling couldn't help but feel a little thrill of wonder at

the way they were obeying him without question.

Maybe I am o leader after all. Sort of, anyway, he added

wryly. For now, anyhow.

Naitachal slept without stirring all during Eliathanis'

finally successful efforts to persuade the snorting, still-

trembling mules to return. He slept during that entire

day's ride through field and forest, alternately sup-

ported in the saddle by Kevin, Lydia and Eliathanis- He

continued to sleep while they set up camp for the

night, lost in so deep and still a slumber that Kevin

began to worry.

He'il wake up soon enough. Of course he will.

But Naitachal continued to sleep. And at last Kevin's

worry grew to the point where the bardling couldn't

stand it any longer. Glancing uneasily at the others, he

burst out with the question he suspected they were all

thinking:

"What are we going to do if Naitachal doesn't wake

up?"

"He'll wake." Eliathanis, tending the campfire,

didn't sound quite sure about that.

"But what if he doesn't?"

"He will," Tich'ki said firmly. "Look, I'm the only

other one of us who has any real magic, and believe

me, this isn't the first nme I've seen a magidan overtax

himself to-the point of collapse. There's only so much

strength in a body, you know."

"Yes, but—"

"Very true."

170 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Sherman

It was little more than a whisper, so unexpected a

sound that they all started.

"Naitachal!"

"So I am."

The Dark Elf sat up, very slowly and carefully, as

though he wasn't quite sure his body would obey him.

Lydia made an abortive little move towards him, then

stopped with a cautious, "How do you feel?"

"Like something dragged up by one of my own

spells," Naitachal admitted wryly.

"But you'll be all right?" Eliathanis' eyes were oddly

wary.

"Indeed."

This is ridiculous! This is Naitachal, the comrade who's been

rid&ng with us all along. He hasn't turned into a monster.

But even as he thought that, Kevin knew they were

all a little leery of Naitachal now, this Dark Elf who had

suddenly revealed himself as a fearful necromancer

who could destroy a foe with one blast ofsorcerous

flame-

/ will not be afraid of him!

After all, how could he forget how the Dark Elf had

comforted him after he'd killed that bandit? Whatever

else Naitachal might be, that hadn't been the act of a

cruel being, or an evil one.

The bardling deliberately moved to the Dark Elf's

side, and received a faint smile in return.

"That was a marvelously clever thing you did, Kevin,

hurling the rock at the sorcerer to break his concentra-

tion."

"Oh, well. It was the only thing I could think to do."

The bardling couldn't stop himself from adding in a

rush, "Even if I didn't expect what was going to hap-

pen after that."

"Don't shed any tears for him." Naitachal's voice was

suddenly cold. "I touched his mind during our battle,

and it was... foul. The man had deliberately killed all

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 171

goodness within himself, all hope of joy, deliberately

turned himself into a being almost as empty as those

poor dead ones he conjured. So it can be," he added,

almost reluctantly, "with many necromancers."

"Not with you! Anyone who could enjoy being silly

with those guards the way you did hasn't given up on

life!"

That earned him a chuckle. "No. I haven't. Nor will I,

Powers willing." The Dark Elf paused, eyes glinting. "He

was strong, though, that stupid, evil man. So strong, with

nothing but hatred left within him to drive him, with that

hellish staff of his to aid him. Without your help, Kevin,

I... don't think I would have survived."

He glanced at the bardling. "But the memory of that

fire is still shocking you, isn't it? Ha, yes, you others, it

shocks you all."

"Well, hell, yes!" Lydia exclaimed after a moment "I

never thought you could — "

"1 didn't. Not deliberately."

"What do you mean? I saw what I saw!"

"You don't understand." Naitachal hesitated, then

sighed. "I don't know if I can put this so easily into

human terms. Look you, our Power was trapped, his

and mine, stalemated, each against each. What hap-

pens when a dam breaks?"

Lydia shrugged. "The water bursts free and — Oh."

"Exacdy. When his sorcery all at once gave way, mine

— yes — burst free. Even I didn't expect it to explode

quite so fiercely, though. A pity it did," Naitachal added

grimly. "I meant only to stun the man."

"In the name of all the Powers, why?"

The Dark Elf's eyes glinted in the gloom. "Why do

you think?"

Kevin straightened. "You don't believe he was work-

ing on his own, do you?"

"Hardly. Even a necromancer such as that isn't

chaotic enough to attack at random."

172 Mercedes Lackey ^fJosepha Sherman

"Then... do you think he was in Carlotta's pay?"

"Something like that." The Dark Elf stretched

wearily. "But we seem to have drawn the lady's fangs."

At least for now, Kevin thought, and fought down a

shudder. "I bet you're hungry."

A hint of returning humor danced in the Dark Elf's

eyes. "Ravenous. As, 1 would think, we all are. It's been

a... shall we say... rather strenuous day."

"It has indeed." Eliathanis was rummaging in their

packs, coming up with a fair amount of smoked meat

and some rather squashed bread. He looked ruefully at

his catch. "It's not going to be an elegant meal."

Lydia rubbed sore muscles in her arms. "I've had

worse. Worse days, too. Though I have to admit, I can't

remember when. Most of the guys I've fought," she

added with a wry grin, "had more flesh to *em!"

They rode all the next day, still sore and weary from

the battle, nerves dght. But what they rode into was noth-

ing more alarming than a mild, sweet spring day. The

land sloped gently up and up towards the mountains, so

gradually that the mules climbed it without complaint. A

gentle breeze played with hair and clothes, birds darted

cheerfully all about them, and there was not the slightest

sign of trouble anywhere.

It was so very uneventful a day that by nightfall

Kevin was amazed to find himself almost disappointed.

What's the matter with you, you idiot? Do you want to be

attacked?

No, of course he didn't. What he was feeling, Kevin

knew, wasn't anything so foolish. After all they had

gone through so far. this sudden peacefulness simply

seemed too... anticlimacdc to be believable.

Now that was silly. Maybe it was true, maybe

Cariotta's fangs had been drawn. Maybe she couldn't

attack them herself for some arcane reason. Maybe

she'd had nothing to do with the attack at all!

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 173

Ah well, Kevin told himself, he would try to enjoy

anticlimax.

Or an almost anddimax. The only thing chat was jar-

ringly wrong in all this quiet was the way Lydia,

Eliathanis and even Tich'ki still radiated uneasiness

every dme they glanced Naitachal's way.

ICan't let that go on. IfCarlotiadoes attack us again, wehad

better beabletopresentaunitedfront, or she's going to destroy us!

But Kevin admitted reluctantly that he just didn't

know what to do about it.

Sitting by the campfire that night, the bardling

sighed, overwhelmed by a surge of guilt that had noth-

ing to do with their quest: what with all the excitement

of the past few days, he had pretty much forgotten

about his music. Now, imagining Master Aidan's

reproachful stare for his neglect, Kevin took out his

lute and tuned it, gendy since it hadn't been played for

a while, then tried a few practice scales.

Ugh. His fingers v/erestijf. Butashekeptafterthem,

they finally limbered up and remembered what they

were supposed to be doing. Kevin ran through his

scales, from the simplest to the most complex and back

again several times, till he heard Lydia give a not so

subtle yawn. With a grin, the bardling switched over

instead to a cheerful little springtime song common to

almost all the human lands, "The Maiden's Garland."

As he played, Kevin felt eyes on him- He glanced up

and caught Naitachal in the ace of staring at the lute. The

slanted blue eyes were, for the moment, unguarded, so

full of yearning that a pang of pity shot through the

bardling. He remembered Naitachal admitting that the

Dark Elves had no music of their own.

What a horrible thing! What a horrible, lonely thing!

Naitachal suddenly realized Kevin had noticed him,

and turned sharply away, pretending to be fixing some

bit of his gear-

174 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Shemum

"Oh no, you don't," the bardling murmured, and

scrambled over to sit beside the Dark Elf. Moved by an

impulse he didn't quite understand, Kevin held out the

lute. "Here. Take it."

"I — I can't. I mean, I wouldn't know how..."

"I'll show you. Take it."

Naitachal took the lute as gingerly as though it was a

baby. Kevin sighed.

"Not like that. It's not that fragile, honest. You hold it

like this, here, and here. Right! Now, give it back to me

for a minute and I'll show you something. This is how

you get single notes." He strummed a single string,

running his finger up from fret to fret. "See? The pitch

gets lower the further my finger gets from the body of

the lute. You try it."

Warily, Naitachal touched a string. When it twanged,

he almost dropped the lute in shock, then gave a rueful

grin at his own reaction. But then, to Kevin's surprise,

the Dark Elf ran up and down through the notes

without missing a one.

"You have a good ear! Now, shall we try a chord or

two?"

Naitachal shrugged uneasily. "Whatever you say."

Showing the Dark Elf the proper fingering, Kevin

strummed the basic chords, then handed the lute back.

Naitachal stumbled over the strings the first dme, then

echoed Kevin flawlessly.

"Hey, terrific!" the bardling said.

The Dark Elf grinned, this time in self-conscious

delight. And to the bardling's amazement, Naitachal

began to pick out, very slowly and carefully, the melody

to "The Maiden's Garland."

"That— that's wonderful! And you only heard me

play it once!" Kevin fought down the faint, irrational

little touch of jealousy that didn't like anyone else being

able to play Ais lute, and added honestly, "Do you know

how long it took me to figure out what you're doing in

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 175

one tiny lesson — " The bardling stopped, mind

racing.

"Naitachal, listen to me, you can't stop here." The

words came tumbling out of Kevin in his eagerness. **I

mean it, when this is all over you've got to get musical

training, you must! No, no, don't shake your head at

me. Music would be such a wonderful comfort for you

—and you've got talent, true musical talent!"

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

But for all his protest, Naitachal didn't surrender the

lute. As though driven by some inner demon, he bent

over it once more, playing "The Maiden's Garland**

again and yet again, gradually bringing it up to proper

speed.

Suddenly the Dark Elf stopped. With an embar-

rassed, delighted litde laugh, he tried to give the lute

back to Kevin. But Kevin was aware of how the others

were staring at them in sheer confusion. The terrible

necromancer wasn't supposed to be acting like this!

Oh yes, this was too good a chance to waste! The

bardling waved Naitachal on. The Dark Elf frowned,

but obligingly played "The Maiden's Garland" yet

again. And this time Kevin sang the light, silly, happy

words along with the music:

"As I was walking one spring day,

I saw a maiden fair,

Come gathering the fragrant may,

The lilac and the roses-o,

The daisies and the violets-o,

To make a pretty posy-o,

To wear upon her hair."

At first Naitachal stumbled, distracted by trying to lis-

ten to what Kevin was singing. But all at once he

caught the performer's knack of hearing but not really

listening to the words, and played on, smiling faindy.

As the bardling had hoped, the bouncy, cheerful

melody and lyrics quickly reached out to snare the

176 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Shennan

others. First Lydia, hardly aware of what she was doing,

started tapping her foot in time to the music. Then

Tich'ki began humming along, fairy voice high and

sweet as birdsong. Eliathanis fought it for a dme, but at

last gave up, murmuring the words in his dear, elven

tenor.

"Oh, come on!" Kevin teased. "You all can do better

than that!"

They could. They did. Pushed on by the bardling's

taunts, they laughed and set the echoes ringing with

their singing. And Kevin, leading them on, grinned as

he sang, watching the walls of suspicion come crum-

bling down, dissolved by the sheer joy that was music.

At last, breathless, they had to stop. Eliathanis

coughed nervously, made a few abortive movements,

then got to his feet and moved to the Dark Elf's side.

"I seem to be forever begging your pardon," he told

Naitachal, "but... I must do it yet again." The White

Elf shook his head. "I'm a warrior, not a magician, but

that's no real excuse. Even so, 1 should have recog-

nized liathama safainias when I saw it."

Naitachal glanced at the bewildered Kevin. "That

doesn't translate very well into your human tongue. It

means ... mmm ... 'explosion of pent-up Power* is as

close as I can get, with the implication that the

explosion wasn't the magician's fault."

"Exactly!" Eliathanis cut in. "Naitachal, we've fought

enough foes together — and each other as well — for

me to know something of who and what you are."

"A Dark Elf," Naitachal said drily. "A necromancer."

"Bah, forget that!" The White Elf waved a dismissive

hand. "You had no choice in either." He paused, and

Kevin could see his fair skin reddening even in the dim

light. "Prejudice isn't a logical thing," Eliathanis began

anew, "but it's damnably difficult to forget- As I've been

proving so far."

"We are as we are."

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 177

"Don't mock me. This is difficult enough to say as it

is. Naitachal, I... well... look you, I admit I've had

things fairly easy all my life. I was raised with love and

Light. I never had a moment's doubt about who I was

or about the career I chose- But you — 1 can only guess

at the struggle you had to be you, to be your own free

soul."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Ah... I don't know. Maybe that theyou you're creat-

ing is a being of whom you should be proud. Maybe

that no matter what my people think of yours, or yours

of mine, I know you, Naitachal, are not, you cannot be,

my enemy. Agreed?"

The Dark Elf's teeth flashed in a sudden smile.

"Agreed."

"Great," came Lydia's wry voice from the darkness.

"Now can we all kiss and make up, and get some

sleep?"

That created such a silly picture in Kevin's mind that

he started to chuckle. The bardling was still chuckling

as he settled down for the night, but mixed in with the

humor was sheer relief.

Peace at last, he thought, and added a silent TJumkyou

to whatever Spirit of Music might be listening-

Chapter XVII

By the second day of peaceful riding through peace-

ful fields and forest, climbing ever higher into the

mountains, with nothing to be seen but countryside,

Kevin felt his tight nerves beginning to unwind. He

started to relax in the saddle, enjoying the quiet beauty

of the scene around him, almost daring to hope:

Maybe Carlotta really hadn't had anything to do

with the necromancer's attack. Maybe she wasn't after

them after all.

The rest of the party were obviously feeling just as

relaxed as he. Naitachal and Tich'ki were busily mur-

muring together as they rode; from what scraps the

bardling could make out, they were trying to figure

out a way to combine fairy magic with the Dark Elf's

own to trace the missing Charina and enjoying the

challenge. Lydia and Eliathanis were trading war

stories, arguing good-naturedly over the compara-

tive merits of sword and bow. Kevin smiled, and let

his mind wander over various bits of music, puzzling

out how he would transcribe this piece for lute or add

counterpoint to that piece. It would be nice to show

offsome new musical skills once they were back in the

casde.

All at once the inanity of his thoughts hit him like a

blow. Kevin sat bolt upright. What in the name of all

the Powers did everyone think they were doing?

"This is ridiculous!"

"Kevin?"

"Look at us! We're all acting as though we'd been out

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

179

for a — a pleasant little ride in the country, without a

care in the world!"

"Well, yes," Lydia admitted. "But — "

"But we know Carlotta is alive. We know she had

something to do with Charina's disappearance. What

do you think we're going to find when we get back to

Count Volmar, eh? Look you, all of you, we're talking

about a sorceress who thought nothing of trying to

murder her own brother! She's not going to stick at

getting rid of nothings like us!"

"Nothings!" Tich'ki said indignantly.

Kevin ignored her, glaring at the others. "Think

about it. For all we know, Carlotta's already figured out

where we're going. Ha, for all we know, she already has

agents in place in the castle!"

"Oh, you're not saying the count's in her employ!"

Lydia protested. "Hepaid us to go on our hunt, for

Powers' sake!"

"I'm not saying anything. Except that we don't know

what we're going to be fadng. So let's not be so — so — "

"So fat and lazy," Lydia drawled. She straightened in

the saddle, adjusting the angle other quiver. "You have

a point, kid. Much as I hate to admit it, you do have a

point."

Tich'ki came fluttering down to land, panting, on

Lydia's saddle. "All right, I scouted ahead as best I

could."

"And...?"

She shrugged. "And all I could see was a perfectly

normal casde full of perfectly ordinary humans. From

what I could overhear, no one seemed to be talking

about anything interesting."

"But you can'tbe sure," Kevin prodded-

"No, I can'tbe sure!" Tich'ki snapped. "I'm a fairy,

not one of your heavy, earthbound breed! I don't know

how you think!"

180 Mercedes Lackey ^josepha Sherman

Kevin sighed. "Never mind- Just sic and get your

strength back." He looked at the others. "I guess all we

can do is go on."

They rode up the steep road to the castle in renewed

tension, all of them wondering just how accurate

Tich'ki's report might be. Could a fairy's judgment be

trusted? Was this to be a refuge — or a trap?

"You're on your own," Tich'ki told them. "Once in

that castle was enough. I'm not going to risk being

trampled underfoot by some hulking human. See you

later!"

She took wing, darting off without another word.

"Eh well, here we are," Lydia said, staring up at the

watchtowers guarding the main gates.

Here they were, indeed. Kevin licked suddenly dry

lips and called out their names to the tower guards.

There was a brief pause, during which he had far too

much time to wonder if they'd have time to get away if

someone threw spears down at them. Or boiling oil.

The gates creaked open....

And a storm of shouting castle folk came rushing out

to meet them- For one panicky moment, the bardling

fumbled for his sword, sure he and his party were

under attack. But before he could do anything to

defend himself, Kevin made out some individual

shouts amid the sea of noise:

"They're here!"

"They made it!"

"Oh, you brave, brave heroes!"

Kevin glanced at the rest of his party, seeing on their

faces the same shocked disbelief he felt. "Uh, yes," the

bardling began warily. "We're here, all right. But why

are you — "

The rest of his question was drowned out in a storm

of cheers. Eager hands reached out to grab his mule's

bridle and lead it through the entryway into the

crowded outer bailey.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 181

"If it will please you to dismount, my lords, lady?"

No, it doesn't please me, Kevin thought. This is all just too

wevrd.

But he couldn't think of any convincing argument

that would let him turn around and ride out of here.

Exchanging uneasy looks with the rest of the party, he

dismounted and followed their guides.

They were led into the shadowy depths of the

count's Great Hall, the sound of their footsteps muffled

by the carpeting rushes. The vast, torchlit room was

fairly stuffed with courtiers and servants alike. At the

sight of Kevin and (he others, they all burst into a fren-

zy ofmurmuring-

At the far end of the Hall sat Count Volmar himself,

splendid in robes of somber blue, there on his red-

canopied chair of state on its dais. And beside him was;

"Charina!" the bardling gasped.

"Kevin!" She came scurrying down the steps to

Kevin's side in a wild swirling of blue velvet and long

golden hair, and caught the startled bardling in a pas-

sionate hug. "Oh, you brave, brave hero! You saved

me!"

"Ch-Charina," Kevin stammered, too shocked and

embarrassed for anything else, overwhelmed by the

soft sweetness other. At last he managed to disengage

himself, gasping out, "I'm delighted to see you're free,

and I — I wish I — we — could take credit for it, but we

didn't—"

"Don't be so modest, young man." Count Volmar

stepped down from his chair to shake Kevin's hand.

"The elven traitors who'd captured my niece released

her as soon as they learned just who I had sent out to

track them down." The count smiled heartily. "If it

hadn't been for your reputation, all of you, and the

dihgent search I know you undertook, my poor dear

Charina would still be a captive."

If it hadn't been for their reputation? What

182 Mercedes Lackey dfJosepha Shennan

reputation? Unless Lydia and the elves had been

holding out on him ... ?

But they looked every bit as baffled as he.

Before any of them could say or do anything, though,

the count's servants swarmed down on the party.

"Hey, wait!" Kevin cried.

The last thing he wanted was to be separated from

the others. But he didn't have much of a choice. Still

trying to protest, Kevin was almost dragged away by

the flock of eager servitors.

Chapter XVIII

To Kevin's momentary surprise, the servants

deposited him not back in the chilly, barren squires'

hall, but in a luxurious suite of rooms whose expensive

die floors and tapestry-hung walls marked them as the

count's prized guest quarters.

"But I don't — I'm not — You can't — Hey! Isn't

anybody listening to me?"

The servants, who were busy dragging out a hip

bath and hanging the room round with heavy linen

draperies "so the hero will not be bothered by drafts,"

stopped to stare at him.

"My lord?" one asked, glancing at Kevin's well-worn

clothing and mule-scented self. "Do you notwish to

bathe before meeting with Count Volmar again?"

"Uh, yes, of course I do! But — "

Too late. They were already off in a new flurry of

excitement. Almost before Kevin could catch his

breath, he was bathed and hustled into the most

elegant silken hose and velvet tunic he could ever have

imagined, a rich sky biue trimmed with gold thread.

Somewhat to the overwhelmed bardling's relief, the

whole thing was ever so slightly too big for him, espe-

cially in the shoulders: at least something wasn't totally

bizarre — at least the clothing hadn't been conjured up

specifically for him! A gold chain was draped about his

neck, an ornamental dagger was fastened at his side,

and Kevin was hurried back down to the Great Hall.

The rest of his party was already down there,

arrayed in similar splendor. Lydia was truly beautiful in

184 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

an amber-dark gown (Kevin could imagine what she'd

had to say about having her legs hindered by skirts),

her curly dark hair caught up in a net of gold thread,

while the two elves looked inhumanly elegant, like

some princely brothers, light and dark, out of the dawn

of magic. Eliathanis* pale coloring was exquisitely set

off by the softest of blue silk robes, while Naitachal's

dark complexion was made yet more exotic by the

deep red of his velvet robes.

Not one of the party looked any more comfortable in

all that borrowed finery than Kevin felt.

**Ah, here you are!" Count Votmar cried heartily.

He, coo, was more richly dressed than before, a rich

blue robe trimmed with costly ermine about his

shoulders, the gold chains of his office glinting across

his shoulders, a jewel-encrusted velvet cap glittering

on his head. At his side, in a chair only slightly lower

than the count's own, sat Charina, her eyes modesdy

downcast, her hair caught back by a crystal drclet, and

an elegantly outfitted semicircle of the count's warriors

stood behind the dais.

"Now," the count announced, "we may begin the

ceremony!"

"Ceremony... ?"

"You don't mind swearing fealty to me, my boy, do

you? Just a formality, of course, but appearances must

be kept up."

"Uh, yes, I mean no, I mean — "

"Good! I'm glad that's setded. Now, come along. We

must do this thing properly!"

" What thing? What are you — "

"No, no, questions later! Now, if you " — Volmar's

sweep of arm included Lydia and the elves — " will go

back to the head of the Hall and reenter at the

trumpeters' signal..."

Kevin glanced at the others in confusion. Lydia

shrugged.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 185

"Why not? The sooner we get this over with,

whatever 'this' is, the sooner we can ask questions."

"Exactly," Nailachal agreed. "Come, my friends."

The trumpets blared. The blasts of sound certainly

did fill the Hall, Kevin acknowledged, even if, he noted

painfully, the instruments were all ever so slighdy off-

key. Feeling like an idiot, the bardling marched

solemnly back towards Count Volmar, stopping at the

foot of the dais, uneasily eyeing that semicircle ofmen-

at-arms. One of them, he noticed, held a small, gilded

lance, a ceremonial thing topped by a glittering pen-

non ofdoth-of-gold.

Now, what?

Count Volmar stood. "Don't look so worried, lad,"

he murmured. "Just follow my lead. Come up here and

kneel."

Sure he was going to do something stupid, like

tumble over backwards down the steps, Kevin climbed

the steps and carefully went down on one knee. The

count extended both hands.

"Go on, lad, take them."

The bardling obeyed, feeling Volmar's palms as soft

as those of any pampered nobleman but so cold he had

to wonder if the count was really as at ease as he looked.

Following Volmar's prompting, wondering if he was

getting himself into some binding oath he might regret

later, Kevin parroted:

"My Lord Count, I herein enter into your homage,

and become your man by mouth and hands. I swear to

keep faith and loyalty to you, saving only the just rights

of His Majesty King Amber. And I swear to guard your

rights with all my strength."

There. That didn't sound so bad. Nothing in there to

compromise his honor or his loyalty to King Amber.

Count Volmar was returning his own part of the

vow. "We do promise to you, our friend and vassal,

Kevin, that we and our heirs will guarantee to you with

186 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

all our power, ail the rights due to you. Let there be

peace between us."

"Let there be peace," Kevin echoed, then tried not to

start in surprise as Volmar kissed him on the cheeks.

"Get up," the count whispered. "Take the lance."

Kevin obeyed, and everyone cheered.

"There, now!" Volmar exclaimed. "That's finished!

Sorry I can't cede you any lands, my boy, but that, un-

fortunately, is the way of things. But from here on in,

you may sign yourself as a court-baron!"

"I, uh, thank you," Kevin said helplessly. "Now, can

we-

"Now, my boy," the count cut in, slapping him so

heartily on the shoulder the bardling staggered, "we

celebrate!"

And celebrate they did, even if Kevin and his party

still had no clear idea what they were celebrating. So

quickly it seemed positively magical, the Great Hall was

filled with long trestle tables spread with fine white

linen and covered with elegant gold ewers, drinking

cups and plates.

Plates, too! Kevin was used to the far more common

thick bread trenchers. Count Volmar really was trying

to impress them!

As guests of honor — for whatever reason, the

bardling thought— Kevin and his party were seated at

the High Table with Count Volmar. To the bardling's

embarrassment, he found himself seated beside

Channa, so close to her that he could smell the faint,

flowery scent she wore (cosdy stuff, imported from the

lands far to the east) and feel the warmth other. When-

ever she reached for food or drink, somehow their

hands always managed to brush. Each contact seemed

to burn through Kevin like flame, pleasant flame that

sent heat surging through his whole body. He knew the

count, sitting on Charina's other side, was asking him

questions, he knew he must be answering, but Kevin,

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 187

dazed by Charina's presence, was hardly aware of what

he was saying, any more than he was aware of what,

out of the interminable courses offish and meat and

poultry, he was eating.

The air in the Great Hall rapidly grew heavy with

the varied smells of food, torch smoke and too many

people crowded into one place (Kevin was vaguely

aware of Eliathanis' fastidious distaste), and for all

Charina's allure, the bardling found himself struggling

not to yawn.

Ah, at last! Here came the subtleties, the spun sugar

confections — at this dinner, a castle upon a marzipan

hall and a swan swimming through a marzipan sea —

that marked the end of a feast. Soon, Kevin thought

with longing, he would be able to escape and get some

rest.

No, he wouldn't. Dinner was followed by a seem-

ingly endless procession of jugglers, acrobats,

dancers, and an illusionist mediocre enough to make

Naitachal snort in contempt. Charina oohed and

ahhed over each performer, applauding vigorously,

jarring Kevin awake every time he started to drift off.

Powers, if this interminable celebration didn't end

pretty soon, he was going to end up snoring away

with his head in the crumbs.

Atlast, though, the ordeal did come to an end. The last

of the performers bowed his way out of the Hall, and

Count Volmar got to his feet, looking as crisp as ever.

"The hour is lace. And so, my friends. I bid you good

night" Beaming, he held up both arms in benediction.

"1 declare a week of celebration!"

As all the courders cheered, Kevin bit back a groan.

/ don't know if I can survive a week of this!

Struggling not to stagger, the bardling followed a

bevy of obsequious servants back to the guest quarters,

blinking wearily as they fussed over him and removed

his borrowed finery. As they finally left him alone,

188 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

Kevin yawned mightily, sure he was going to fall asleep

the moment he fell into bed.

But of course as soon as he was settled comfortably in

the big, canopied bed, his mind and body, perversely,

woke up. After a time of restlessly tossing about, Kevin

gave up trying to sleep altogether. Pulling back the

canopies so he could get some fresh air, the bardling sat

alone in the dark, puzzling over the weird events of the

day.

Charina free? Himself a hero?

But I haven't done anything!

Nothing made sense. Oh sure, there had been the

fight with the bandits and that necromancer. But

everything else about their quest had been so — so

easy, so ridiculously, frustratingly easy that —

Kevin froze, listening to the sudden faint creak of

wood. That was the door! Someone was sneaking into

his room.

The bardling shot off the bed, groping blindly for a

weapon. His hand dosed about a heavy candlestick, and

he hefted it experimentally, heart pounding, trying to

figure out exacdy where the intruder might —

"Kid? Hey, kid?"

Lydia!

"Come on, Kevin," added a high, shrill voice. "We

know you're in there!"

Wings buzzed in the darkness. Now that had to be

Tich'ki!

Kevin put the candlestick back on the bedside table

from which he'd snatched it and fumbled with flint and

steel till he'd gotten the chick, expensive, beeswax

candle burning. By its flickering light, he saw Lydia

grin and Tich'ki come to a graceful landing on the bed.

Two more figures moved silently out of the shadows:

Eliathanis and Naitachal, the latter nearly invisible,

shrouded once more in his cloak of necromantic black.

"We must talk," the Dark Elf said softly.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 189

"We certainly must!" Kevin agreed. "I don't know

about you, but I feel like all this glittery splendor is

going to explode in my face."

Eliathanis grimaced. "Oh, indeed. The whole affair

stinks, as you humans would say, like old boots.*'

Kevin nodded eagerly. "What it is, is that they're all

trying their best to dazzle us."

"But just who are *they'?" the White Elf wondered.

"And why are 'they' doing this?"

"Why, indeed?" Naitachal mused. "I wonder ...

could someone have deceived Count Volmar? Perhaps

told him of heroics we simply didn't do?"

"Why would anyone bother?" Lydia asked. "That

doesn't make sense."

Tich'ki shrugged. "A weird sort of human joke?"

Kevin shook his head. "Not with Charina here. Her

disappearance was hardly ajoke!"

"The only other possibility." Naitachal said slowly, "is

that the count himself is involved."

Lydia stirred impatiently. "Involved in what? All we

know is, he hired us to find his niece. We returned to

find said niece already free. Everyone thinks we're

heroes. Yeah, it's a weird situation, but where's the

crime in it?"

"Oh, Powers..."

"Kevin? What is it?"

He stared at them all. "I just had a horrible thought

Remember what the Arachnia back in Westerin told us?

About Cariotta? Well, what if... what if that isn't Charina

after all. I know she's no illusion, I sat next to her at din-

ner and all, but..." He shook his head in misery.

"You mean," the Dark Elf murmured, "that she

might be no one else but Cariotta in disguise?"

"I d-don't want to believe it, but what if that's the

truth? Then this whole thing, all this ridiculous, empty

celebrating, starts making sense. It could all be part of

her plot."

190 Mewedes Lackey ^Josepha Shernwn

Naitachal swore under his breath. "Could be, no. It

ttl And here I thought I sensed something odd about

that girl, a hint of sorcery hovering about her. But I

told myself no, that couldn't be, I had to be mistaken. 1

let myself get just as bedazzled as the rest of you."

The Dark Elf straightened resolutely. "What hap-

pened. happened. If that really is Cariotta, the count is

almost certainly under her sway."

"And that means they're both probably waiting for

me to find the manuscript again," Kevin added. "After

all, I'm still supposed to be copying it so I can bring the

spell back to Master Aldan."

"Well, you can forget about all that!" Lydia

exclaimed. "The last thing we want to do is play into

Carlotta's hands. We've got to get out of here before it's

too late. Yes, and warn King Amber, too!"

"No, wait." Eliathanis' voice was thoughtful. "If this

really is Cariotta, we can't risk her finding the

manuscript. That means we can't Just go running off

fike so many frightened children."

"She probably wouldn't let us go anywhere

anyhow," Kevin added, "particularly not in the direc-

tion of her brother." He hesitated, biting his lip

nervously. "I — I think we have to go along with the

deception, let Charina — or whoever she really is —

get dose to me again. And then... well... I guess then

well see what happens."

For all his brave words, the bardling was half hoping

someone would talk him out of it But to his dismay, the

White Elf only nodded. "That seems like thebest idea. But

since you're going to be playing the bait in what could be a

most complicated trap, someone bad best armor you

against the weapons you're likely toencounter.**

" "Someone,"" Naitachal muttered. "That 'someone,'

of course, is going to be me. Unless one of you has

miraculously gained some useful protection spells?

No? I didn't think so."

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 191

Tich'ki grinned, unabashed. "Now why would a

fairy deign toprotect someone?"

"Why, indeed?" The Dark Elf's voice dripped sar-

casm- "Let the weak get what they deserve, eh?"

"Ha!" the fairy exploded. "Never knew your folks to

be concerned with protecting anyone, either!"

"Point taken."

"Tich'ki," Lydia cut in, "couldn't you use fairy magic,

though, against Cariotta?"

"How? By influencing her mind, the way I did to

those guards?" Tich'ki shivered, wrapping her wings

about her. "Not a chance. Look you, I know my limita-

tions- If that really is Cariotta, she'd shrivel me like a

moth in a flame."

"Never mind." Naitachal glanced at Kevin. "I'm sure

you realize that when our White Elf friend mentioned

armor, he didn't mean armor against anything as

simple as swords."

"Uh.-.no."

"I admit I'm not the most experienced of magicians

when it comes to protective spells, as our dear Tich'ki

so kindly reminded me."

She Uttered.

"But I shall do my best," the Dark Elf continued.

"And," he added wryly, "I promise not to damage you

in the process." Naitachal paused, then gave a heartfelt

sigh. "It's not going to be an easy thing; if I make the

spells too obvious, Charina/Carlotta will be sure to

sense them. Hey-ho, who needs sleep?" He glanced at

the others- "But those spells are for defensive pur-

poses. Now let's plan what we're going to do about

fighting back."

"Kevin shouldn't be left alone for a moment,"

Eliathanis suggested.

"That's easy to say," Lydia retorted. "I have a feeling

that if Charina 01- Cariotta or whatever she wants to call

herself really is worried about that manuscript, she's

192 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

some to concentrate all her attention on Kevin."

"All we can do is our best," the White Elf said simply,

and Tichid snickered.

"Might have known you'd say something ail fine and

noble and useless. Never mind the pretty words, elfl

We've got some concrete plans to make: what we're

going to do if the... ah. ..witch tries to isolate our boy

here; what we're going to do if she asks him about the

manuscript or makes him go get it — that sort of thing.

All the nice, practical details."

Kevin nodded in fervent approval. "By all means,

let's be practical!"

He and the others sat and plotted for some time. At

last, satisfied with the results, Naitachal straightened in

his chair.

"All right, enough of this. We all know our roles.

Now, I have work to do. Lydia, Eliathanis, Tich'ki, if

you can't help me cast spells, you can at least raid the

kitchen and castle gardens and get me the components

111 need."

The Dark Elf rattled offa list of ingredients. Some of

them, like rosemary, Kevin recognized; it was a com-

mon element of the protective amulets people wore

back in Bracklin. Other items bewildered him totally.

"Naitachal? I didn't knowAAo/i? had any magical

properties."

Naitachal's smile was wry. "That's for me, boy, not

for you. This is going to be one long night's work, and I

don't want to risk falling asleep in the middle of it Oh,

and by the way," he added sharply, catching the others

in a warning stare, "once I begin that work, I do not

wish to be interrupted. Understood?"

"Totally." Lydia grinned. "After all, some of us have to

look pretty in the morning!"

She dodged as Naitachal threw a pillow at her, and scur-

ried out of the room, her laughter trailing behind her.

INTERLUDE THE FIFTH

The night was late, at the very witching hour, and very

dark, moonless and still, without the faintest breath of

wind. Not a sound was to be heard without Count

Volmar's casde save for the faint footsteps and chinking

of mail of the guards wearily trudging back and forth up

on the ramparts. Their torches were small, flickering

things barely cutting through the vast mass of darkness.

Within the casde, silence reigned as well. All slept —

Or almost all. Cloistered in Count Volmar's solar, two

people sat in secret conference, sharing a midnight

flagon of mulled wine.

Hands cupped about his warm goblet, Volmar

chuckled suddenly. "Now you have to admit," he said,

glancing over at Carlotta, "that things are going nicely.

Very nicely, indeed."

The sorceress, in her rightful form once more, red

hair pouring over her shoulders and green gown like a

stream of flame, stared broodingly down into her own

goblet. "So far."

"Oh my dear princess, don't be so wary! Kevin may

bear the seeds of Bardic Magic as you say, but he is still

only a boy. So far it's been ridiculously easy for me to

quite overwhelm him with riches and the trappings of

power, you must admit."

Carlotta glanced up at that, her smile wry, "Granted.

Between the two of us, he hasn't even had a chance to

think."

"Exactly. And I intend to go right on overwhelming

him."

194 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Shennan

The sorceress stretched wearily, graceful as a

predator. "Ay me, and I will endure being simpering lit-

tle Charina a bit longer, and continue casting my

beguilements and love-spells on the boy."

Volmar pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Now that's

something I don't understand. Carlotta, you know

there's such a thing as too much caution. Why don't

you just enthrall the boy in one quick burst of sorcery

and be done with it?"

Her eyes flashed in sudden angry warning. "Don't be

ridiculous. The only spells I dare use are subtle ones."

"But why? Surely you can — "

"Surely I can tell you not to meddle! Have you for-

gotten about that Dark Elf?"

The one you thought dead? Volmar thought but didn't

dare say aloud- "No, of course not But — "

Carlotta's hands tightened about her goblet "Magic

leaves a disdncuve/ee/, if one has sufficient training to

identify it. One magidan can almost always recognize

another in action, no matter which sorcerous dis-

ciplines are involved, no matter how many cloaking

spells are used. I had a nervous enough moment when

that elf first saw me; I swear he nearly sensed who and

what I am on the spot. I only just managed to project

enough girlish innocence to distract him."

The sorceress paused. staring at Volmar." I don't have to

remind you that I don't want my true identity discovered

yet, not by anyone. The elf is a skillful necromancer, no

doubt about it And that makes him Talented enough to

detect the working of any strong magksby anyone. And so

I mustlimit myself to subtle spells."

"I see."

"Oh, don't misjudge me!" Carlotta smiled without

humor. "The spells may be subtle, but that doesn't

mean they aren't powerful. And their effect, I might

add, is nicely accumulative."

"Ah, clever. Between the two of us, we should have

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 195

the boy beautifully cooperative before the week is out.**

The woman's smile thinned ever so slightly. "I

should think so. Assuming, of course, that you don't

make some mistake."

"I won't," Volmar said as casually as he could. "And

once he's under our control, of course he'll go fetch us

his manuscript"

"Ah, yes. That's going to be the true test of his

enthrallment Rather than doing the copying himself

the boy must be persuaded to surrender the

manuscript to one of your scribes, then let our mes-

senger carry that copy off to his cursed Master"

The count frowned. "That's not going to be easy.

He's such a disgustingly honorable boy." He raised a

hopeful brow. "That isn't something that's going to

change once he's enthralled, is it?"

"No. Such spells delude and lull the will, but they can't

change a person's inner self." Cariotta paused. "But the

boy is, as you say, still very young. If we're careful, we

should be able to so beguile him that he forgets duty. Then

hell be quite willing to let the messenger have the copy of

the manuscript— so that he, himself, can continue enjoy-

ing this so very flattering noble hospitality."

Volmar sat bolt upright "Ha, I have it! If he seems

reluctant, all we need to do is propose that he marry

Charina."

"Hewfwtr

Volmar laughed. "The poor fool is too unworldly to

realize I'd never let my ward marry a mere nothing. He'll

take the whole thing quite seriously. And then, of course,

there will be no way he can take the copy of the manuscript

back to his Master, he'll be toobusy with wedding prepara-

tions even to consider doing the copy himself!"

Carlotta raised her goblet in a wry toast "I like it A

maximum of result from a minimum of effort Oh yes,

I like it. Ah, poor Kevin," she crooned, "poor little

bardling. You don't stand a chance!"

Chapter XVIX

Something that sounded like a giant mosquito was

droning away in his ears. Kevin came awake with a

start, ready to swat whatever. But then he sank back in

his chair, realizing it was just the residue of yet another

spell.

The bardling rubbed a tired hand over his face.

Naitachal had been right: it was turning into a long,

weary night's work, even if it was the Dark Elf who had

to do most of that work.

Whatever it is that he's doing.

There had been a confusing barrage of spells so far,

some of them briefly entangling Kevin in a whispery

net of sound, some of them blanketing him in comfort-

ing warmth, some of them — the bardling shook his

head. He couldn't even interpret how some of them

had felt

"Naitachal?"

"Stay still." The Dark Elf's voice was thick with

fatigue. "Only a few more to go.**

"Can't you stop and rest? I mean, I know I've been

asleep half the time, but you haven't had a chance to so

much as dose your eyes."

Naitachal smiled wryly. "Thank you for your con-

cern, but the sooner I finish the lot, the happier I'll

fed."

He began murmuring incomprehensible spell-

words once more, and Kevin sighed, feeling a new

tingling travelling all through him, a soothing sort of

sensation, odd, but not at aD alarming... not at all...

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 197

As the bardling relaxed, his eyes slid closed once

more....

This time it was the total absence of strange sensa-

dons that woke him. Kevin straightened in his chair,

blinking in confusion at the faint gray light ofnot-quite

morning.

Morning! Powers, had the Dark Elf been working

through the whole night without a pause? He glanced

towards where Naitachal was slumped in his own chair,

eyes shut.

Wish I could just let hsm sleep; he's certainly earned it!

But they'd both agreed it wasn't such a good idea for

anyone to think they'd been conspiring together.

"Naitachal?" Kevin whispered, then repeated, a little

more forcefully: "Naitachal!"

The Dark Elf opened his eyes with a groan. "Yes. I'm

awake." He staggered up from the chair, straightening

carefully, adding with wry humor, "So weary I could

sleep on my feet like a horse, but awake,"

"You look terrible. I wish you didn't have to wear

yourself out like this."

"Ae-ye, no one ever said magic was easy. At least this

way the sorceress isn't going to be able to turn you into

her love slave."

Kevin assumed that was meant to be a joke.

Naitachal stretched every muscle, plainly trying to

force some energy back into himself, then ran his fingers

through his pale, tangled mane. "Remember, though,

that these are only faint copies of true protective spells

I've cast over you. Don't expect too much of them. I don't

dare put too blatantly powerful magics upon you. Car-

lotta would be sure to sense them. But what may be

lacking in force, I'm making up in volume." The weary

blue eyes suddenly darkened with worry," I hope.**

"I can do it," the bardling assured him, trying to

sound more certain than he felt.

"Again, I hope." Naitachal hit back a third yawn. "Ay

198 MercedesLufwy^JosephaSherman

me, I'd best get back to my own room before I fall over.

Or before the servants start wondering what's going

on. Till later, Kevin."

"Till later," the bardling echoed uneasily.

"What's wrong with Naitachal?" Lydia, who'd shed

her finery for more comfortable tunic and breeches,

whispered that to Kevin as they stood on a wide casde

balcony pretending to be engrossed in an archery con-

test taking place in the courtyard below.

Kevin stole a wary glance back to where the Dark Elf

sat in as much concealing shadow as he could find up

here on this sunny morning. Naitachal's black cloak

was wrapped dghtly about his slender form, the hood

pulled forward to hide his face, making him look like a

truly sinister figure, a sliver of Darkness amid the Light

—but Kevin suspected the Dark Elf was actually just

asleep with his eyes open.

"What do you think?" the bardling retorted softly.

He applauded politely as one of the archers down in

the courtyard below scored a near bull's-eye. "He was

up all night casting spells on me."

"Ah. Right Of course. Feel any different?"

"No, but—"

"Oh, nice shot!" the woman called out She added so

softly only Kevin could hear, "Not a decent archer in

the lot. Huh, and look at die way Charina's eying you

from the doorway, like a cat watching a tasty little fish."

This fish has some surprises m store, Kevin thought, or at

least I hope I do.

The idea that the pretty young woman approaching

him might really be a murderous sorceress seemed

impossible on such a bright, sunny day. And yet... A

sudden nervous prickle racing up his spine, Kevin got

courteously to his feet to bow to Charina. Or whoever

she really was.

"My lady."

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 199

"My! So formal!" Charina's glance at Lydia was ever

so subtly edged with contempt as she took in the

woman's warrior garb. "What's this? I should think you

would be down there, too. Lady Lydia. Are you not an

archer?"

To Kevin's ears, she made that occupation sound as

unsuitable for a lady as pig-farming. Lydia couldn't

have missed the snub, but she only laughed. "Oh, I

hardly thought it fair to compete. I mean, I'm not one

of the count's people."

"But surely you would like a chance to demonstrate

your skills." It was a very thinly veiled command.

Lydia only shrugged. "Nope! Much nicer just to sit

and watch. Besides, at such a short distance how could

I miss? Right, Kevin?"

Thank you, Lydia! he thought gratefully. The last

thing he wanted was to be left alone with Charina. "Uh,

right."

"Ah, but I think you really should go down there," a

suave voice purred. Kevin saw Lydia tense as Count

Volmar stepped forward to take her arm. "My dear

young lady, you would hardly wish to deprive us of the

pleasure of watching a true professional at work, now,

would you?"

She shrugged free of the count's grip. "I'll say the

same thing I told the Lady Charina: it doesn't seem fair.

I mean, how is it going to look if a mere mercenary like

myselfbeats your guys?"

"That hardly seems likely," the count muttered,

miffed. "My archers are not exactly children. But

please," he added, urbane smile returning, "do give us

a chance to judge your skill for ourselves."

It wasn't a request. With a sigh and a glance at Kevin,

Lydia shouldered her bow and went down to join the

other archers. Charina moved closer to the bardling

with a pleased little coo. But before she could take his

arm, a cheerful voice called out:

200 Mercedes Lackey S^Josepha Sherman

"How goes it, my lords, my lady?"

"Eliathanisi" Kevin cried in relief.

The White Elf swept down into a bow far more

graceful than any human could have managed.

Slanted eyes glinting with wry amusement, he said,

"What a fine day for an archery contest! Ah, I see our

own Lydia is among the contestants."

"You would have a better view of them down there,"

Charina suggested, but Etiathanis only smiled.

"Why, no, lady, if you will forgive me for correcting

you. I have a much better view from up here. A better

view of... everything." Fair face impassive, the elf

crossed his arms with the air of someone who has no

intention of moving or being moved.

That's all well and good, Kevin thought uneasily,

seeing the anger flickering in Charina's eyes.

Apparently she and the count thought more forceful

measures would be out of character just now. Butyou,

and Lydia and Naitachal can't keep watching over me forever.

Sooner or later, danger or no, the bardling knew he

was going to have to face the sorceress all by himself.

It was sooner. That night Kevin found a guard at his

door "to protect him from unwelcome disturbances."

In the days that passed, the bardling caught no more

than distant glimpses of his friends. But, he tried to

convince himself, there was something comforting in

knowing that they were taking turns watching over

him, even from afar.

Not that mere watching was going to do any good if

the sorceress decided to attack.

Ah, yes, but Charina wasn't showing any more interest

in the bardling than a properly brought-up young lady

might show in a young man she fancied. In fact, if it

hadn't been for the undercurrent of uneasiness running

through his mind, Kevin knew he probably would have

enjoyed her attention. Or even, amazing thought, to

have become a little surfeited by it Somehow Charina

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 201

was managing to almost always be at his side, the very

image of a slightly spoiled but charming niece to a count,

cooing and fluttering until the bardling found himself

wondering just why he'd been foolish enough to be

attracted to her in the first place-

But then, I didn't really have a choice about it. It -wasn't real-

ty Owrina I was attracted to after all. Or at least f don't think

it was.

Or—

Ach, he didn't know what to think any more! Kevin

wandered blindly through the castle gardens, for the

moment blessedly alone, the gravel path crunching

under his shoes, sweet, spicy herbal scents filling his

nose, and puzzled over the fact that the girl or woman

or whatever she was hadn't tried anything blatantly

sorcerous on him.

Or had she? Now chat he thought about it, Kevin

could have sworn that from time to time during the

week he'd felt the eeriest tingling, as though

Naitachal's protective armor of spells was being tested

again and again. So far that armor had held up.

Oh, nonsense! The whole thing was probably the

product of his own overwrought imagination. How

could Charina be anyone but Charina?

She couldn't.

But then again, maybe...

Kevin shook his head impatiently. Enough waver-

ing! Whatever was happening or not happening, he

didn't dare let his guard down. The week of celebration

was over today, and if Charina really was Carlotta, this

would be her last chance to try ensnaring him. And if

she couldn't get the manuscript from him, then she

would surely try to —

The bardling nearly jumped straight into the air

when a soft hand brushed his arm. "Kevin?" Charina's

sweet voice asked. "Is anything wrong?"

**Uh, n-no, no, of course not." Trying to get his

204 Mercedes Lackey ^josepha Sherman

to shout to her that he wasn't under her power as she

believed. Thank the Powers that Naitachal's anti-

beguilement spells had worked — and that they'd been

too subtle for Carlotta to detect Thank the Powers as

well that Cariotta too had been constrained to subdety;

otherwise even his feigned cooperation would have

been transparently false.

I only hope EUathams can let the others know I might be m

trouble. The bardling glanced at Carlotta and caught,

just for an instant, a suspicious glint of hardness in

those lovely blue eyes, a hardness all out of place for

one other supposed youth and innocence. A hardness

that smacked of sorcery.

Really big trouble, Kevin amended unhappily.

Chapter XX

"Comeon, Kevin!**

Carlotta batted her eyelashes at him in a way the

bardling might have found adorable — if it wasn't such

an incongruous gesture on the part of a sorceress

who'd kill him if he made one wrong move.

"Why, if I didn't know better," she chirped, "I'd think

you were trying to avoid being alone with me." Cariotta

giggled girlishly. "That's not true, now, is it?"

"Uh... no- Of course not." Yes, dear Powers, yes! How

am Igoing to get out of this alwe?

Not by letting Cariotta think there was something

wrong with her beguilement spells, that was sure! But

what else could he do? There wasn't much time to

waste, yet his thoughts seemed to be racing around and

around his mind like so many terrified wild things. The

only thing Kevin could decide to do was play the befud-

died bumpkin. Ha, that shouldn't be so difficult! Right

now it was going to be far easier to fake stupidity and

bedazzlement than to say or do anything clever!

Aren't there any servants around? Anyone who might suggest

that the niece of a count shouldn't bealone with ayoungman?

No, of course not That would be far too simple. The

casde corridors were as empty as though there wasn't

anyone else alive in the whole place. Besides, Kevin

thought wearily, all the servants were probably under

Cariotta's control, anyhow.

All too soon, they reached the library.

Kevin tried the handle. "The door seems to be

locked," he said, stalling desperately for time.

206 Mercedes Lackey &fJosephs Sherman

"No, it's not It's never locked. Here, let me see."

Carlotta tried the handle, which turned with

treacherous ease. She glanced sharply at Kevin, and

the bardling gave her a weak smile.

"Must have been stuck."

**Well, it isn't stuck now. Come on."

But Kevin stopped short in the doorway, hunting

frantically for some other excuse.

"Ca-Charina." Gods, he'd almost called her by her

real name! "Charina, I... uh... I chink I'm getting a

headache. Maybe tomorrow really would be a better

rime to—"

"Don't be siily\ The sooner we take care of the

manuscript — Oh, don't look at me with such horror,

Kevin! I meant to a scribe!" She smiled teasingly.

"What did you think 1 meant?"

"I...uh..."

"Anyhow, the sooner we get rid of the manuscript,

the sooner we can do what we want. Whatever we

want. Like this."

Without warning, Carlotta threw her arms around

his neck, her lips all at once temptingly dose to his.

Temptingly? the bardling thought in panic. Her body

pressed against his, the sweet scent other perfume filled

his nose. At any other time he would have done almost

anything to be embraced like this by a lovely young

woman, but now—Powers, Fd be saferfussinga spider! Bvtif

1doa'tfass her, shellknow something'swrong....

Just before he forced himself to choose the lesser

peril, Charina pushed him away, giggling. "You

haven't got a headache. Or if you do, it will go away

now that we're out of the garden. It's just the result of

breathing in the smells of all those herbs." Her smile

was a marvel of fake innocence. "Some of them make

me sneeze every dme I go near them! If the cook didn't

need them for his recipes... Never mind. Let's find

that silly old manuscript and get out of here."

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

207

Oh please, Kevin told the manuscript, hide from me the

way you did before!

He couldn't pretend not to search, not with Carlotta

watching his every move. Oh no, even chough Kevin

realized she didn't really know what the manuscript

looked like, she certainly could tell what it didn't look

like; he couldn't try to fool her with the wrong tide. And

so the bardling did the only thing he could, and

examined each and every item in the library as slowly

and carefully as possible.

Delaying like this was a dangerous game. Kevin was

all too well aware that Carlotta's sweet expression hid

barely restrained impatience. If he pushed her too

far...

An age passed, or so it seemed, while he searched the

library, then a second age, this one surely long enough

to wear away rock. But at last, to Kevin's despair, he

realized he had gone through every manuscript in the

library save one.

As though his hand had a life all its own, the bardling

watched with fascinated horror as it pulled the

manuscript from the shelf, feeling the strange, magical

tingling that told him what he held even before he read

the title:

The Study of Ancient Magic.

Of course. You pick a wonderful time to come out of hiding,

he told the manuscript with bitter sarcasm.

"Kevin!" Carlotta snapped, "What do you chink

you're doing? Why are you staring like that at an

empty shelf?"

"But it's not—"

"Oh, stop clowning!" There was very little of the

innocent young girl in that sharp command. *'I don't

want to spend all day here. Get on with your search!"

Bewildered, Kevin turned to face her, the

manuscript in his hands.

Carlotta's eyes widened in shock. "You — you<&

208 Mercedes Lackey ^josepha Sherman

have it!" she gasped. In the next moment, the sorceress

had hersdfback under control. "Here, let me have it"

She hadn't been able to see the manuscript until he

took it off the shelfl Stunned by this new bit of magic,

the bardling couldn't find a thing to say except an

awkward, "Uh... sorry, Charina."

"Kevin? I'm not in the mood for games. Give it to me."

"I...uh...can't."

"Kevin! Give it to me!"

The bardling backed away towards the door, stam-

mering the first words that came into his head. "I — I

have to keep it, to — to — to take it to my room and — "

**I don't think so." Suspicion flickered in her eyes.

"You've figured out the truth, litde boy, haven't you?"

"Id-don't—"

"Oh, but you do. A pity."

There wasn't the slightest trace of youth or

innocence in her voice now. As Kevin watched in fas-

cinated terror, he saw Charina's form grow and alter in

a swift, dizzying blur of shape and color. The woman

who stood before him now looked nothing like the girl

she'd been a few moments before: she was tall and

coldly exquisite efface and form, her long hair flaming

red, her green eyes hard and chill and —

Of course she doesn't look anything like Charma, his mind

gibbered, Charina -was Cariotta all along!

What had Naitachal said? Aiee, yes: if she changed to

her right shape it was probably the prelude to her cast-

ing some major spell, because powerful spell-casting

shattered illusions —

No time to think. But in that last midnight session,

the bardling and the others had worked out every

detail of what they were going to do. And oh, he was

glad of that preparation now' If he stood staring at her

like a fear-paralyzed fool, she'd strike him down. If he

tried to run with the manuscript, like the naive boy

who'd first left Bracklin, she'd strike him down.

CASTLE. OF DECEPTION

209

Instead, Kevin simply tossed the manuscript out the

library's open window, praying Tich'ki had had time to

get into place.

That was obviously the last thing Cariotta had

expected. She let out a shriek of disbelieving rage, her

sorcerous concentration broken by shock.

Now's my chance!

Kevin broke into a run, praying he could get away

before she regained control and blasted him. Behind

him, the bardling heard her scream again, this time in

sheer frustration, and felt his skin prickle as she

gathered Power to her. Before she could blast him,

Kevin darted out the door, slamming it behind him,

knowing that wasn't going to stop her for more than a

moment. He wasn't a fighter, he wasn't a magician —

Powers, Powers, the others had better be ready to help

out!

They were. As Cariotta tore the door open,

Eliathanis appeared, seemingly from nowhere.

Moving with inhuman speed, he pounced, pinning

Cariotta in his arms, muffling her attempts to scream

wilh a hand. But of course he couldn't hope to hold her

for long.

"Get out of here, Kevin!" the White Elf shouted.

Then he gasped in pain as the sorceress bit him.

Kevin glanced back over his shoulder and saw with a

chill of horror that now her mouth was free for spell-

casting. A shouted Word sent Eliathanis flying. The

bardling stumbled to an anguished stop, sure he was

about to see Cariotta slay the White Elf. She spat out a

short, twisting sentence — and a bolt of dark fire

flashed from her hand.

But before it could strike the fallen elf, Naitachal

sprang forward out of the shadows, cloak swirling

dramatically behind him, arms raised in denial. The

sorcerous fire recoiled from a sudden, unseen wall of

force, smashing instead into a wall with a roar like

210 Mevcedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

thunder, sending broken stone crashing down in a wild

doud of dust that forced Carlotta back into the shelter

of the library. Before she could recover, Eliathanis had

scrambled to his feet. The two elves slapped palms in a

quick moment of triumph, then took to their heels,

catching up with Kevin.

"That noise is going to rouse the whole castle!"

Naitachal cried. "Hurry to the gates! Lydia should have

fast horses ready."

"She'd better." Eliathanis added. "If we don't get

away now — "

Too late. Carlotta had left her refuge — but she'd left

it as Charina, dusty and dishevelled, pathetically calling

for help.

"She — she's saying we assaulted her!" Kevin

gasped. "And used sorcery to boot!"

"Wonderful," Naitachal muttered. "Just what we

need."

As they came out into a courtyard, beneath a dramati-

cally overcast sky, Eliathanis stopped short "Here come

the guards. No one's going to believe us against poor,

sweet litde Charina. We've got to split up." He gave

Kevin a shove. "Up that stairway, hurry! Naitachal, you

go that way, I'll go this. See you outside!"

We hope. Kevin scrambled up the steep stone stair-

way, a stone wall on his left, open space on the right,

hearing a troop of guards clattering up behind him,

and wound up on a narrow rampart between two

towers. Which way, which way ... ?

He turned left at random, and dove through the

narrow door into the tower, staggering to a walk, half

blinded by the sudden darkness. His foot found the lip

of a narrow staircase spiralling down.

But then Kevin stopped so sharply he nearly went

tumbling down the stairs. Guards were climbing up

this way, too! The bardling raced back out across the

rampart, blinking frantically in the sudden return to

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 211

daylight — and nearly ran into the arms of the guards

who'd followed him up the first stairway. He kicked

and squirmed and twisted, wriggling his way through

so swiftly none of them had a chance to grab him, and

dove into the second tower.

Oh dawn, oh damn, they're among up this stairway, too!

He wasn't going to surrender. He didn't dare, not

with Carlotta awaiting him! So Kevin took the only

option open and raced up the spiralling stairway,

stumbling on the narrow steps, banging knees and

elbows, struggling up and up till at last, gasping, he

burst out into the open on the tower's fiat top.

Powers, now what do I do ?

The bardlingglanced wildly this way and that, a surge of

verdgo overwhelming him as he realizedjust how high up

he was. The tower top suddenly felt impossibly narrow

and insecure, while the casde was spread out in a dizzying

panorama far below him, swarming with frenetic life.

Kevin tensed as he recognized two people out of that

swarm: Naitachal and Eliathanis, two doll-size figures

from up here, looked like they were having a wonder-

ful time. They moved with elven speed and grace.

almost like a matched pair of dancers, one dark, one

fair, far swifter than the merely human guards trying to

catch them. The bardling could have sworn he saw

Eliathanis grin, heard Naitachal's laugh come trailing

thinly up to him. The elves took a moment to slap

palms yet again, then scurried offin opposite direc-

tions. Kevin didn't have a moment's doubt that they

were going to escape, and enjoy doing it.

Sure, great, now they can admit they're friends. Fm glad

they're having fun — but meanwhile Fm trapped up here!

Here came the guards. Kevin turned to face them,

back against the low balustrade, bracing himself, sick at

heart, knowing that throwing himself to his death

would be a kinder fate than letting himself fall into

Carlotta's hands.

212 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Shennan

"Jump!"

Wonderful. Now he was hearing voices.

"Kevin! Jump!"

Strong little Fingers pinched his arm so hard he

yelped. -Tich'ki!"

"Come on, you idiot bardling, trust me\jumpr

Powers, what if this was some truly sadistic form of a

fairy joke — see the trusting human go splat! But the

bardling knew he had to trust her. What other choice

was there?

AH at once dreadfully calm, Kevin climbed up onto

the tower's narrow balustrade, the world a dizzy blur

around him. As the guards cried out in sudden shock,

the bardlingjumped blindly into space.

Chapter XXI

Kevin jumped as far out and away from the casde as

he could. For one wild, terrifying, thrilling moment, he

was falling free, the earth surging up to meet him, and

was sure he was dead.

Then Tich'ki was beside him, shape-changed to

human size, catching him in her arms, her wings back-

watering frantically. Those wings didn't have the

strength to actually carry her weight and his together,

but slowly, painfully slowly, the fairy began to check his

fall. But it wasn't going to work, Kevin thought in

panic, they were running out of time and space!

Tich'ki cried, "Go limp! It's not going to be a soft

landing!"

Kevin hit, not as hard as he had feared, and started

helplessly rolling down the steep hill from the castle,

sky and ground whirling in a dizzy drde. The bardling

frantically snatched at grass and rock. trying to slow his

fall, only to end up with a jolt against a tough little

patch of bushes.

Aching, trying to remember how to breathe, deeply

afraid of what he would find when he tried to move,

Kevin rolled over onto his back, eyes shut, wanting

nothing but to be left alone to die. But strong hands

were about his shoulders, fordng him to his feet. He

opened his eyes to find himself supported by Eliathanis

and clutching the manuscript that had somehow

wound up in his hands again during his fall.

"Are you all right?" the White Elf asked worriedly,

then added, without waiting for his reply: "Come on.

214 Mercedes Lackey f^Josepha Sherman

Lydia has our horses, down there where the hill

levels out- We've got to get away before the guards

have a chance to mount and come after us!"

"Before Carioita comes after us," Naitachal corrected

wryly- "As good a team as we make, cousin-elf— w he

flashed a quick grin at Eliathanis, who grinned back

" — I'd justas soon not tackle her again."

Kevin let all that pass without really listening to it. At

least, he realized, trying to muster his stunned

thoughts, he'd landed on grass, not rock. And nothing

seemed to be broken after all. Tucking the hard weight

of the manuscript securely inside his tunic, the

bardling struggled down the hill to where Lydia waited

and pulled himself into a saddle, wincing as strained

muscles complained. "Tich'ki..."

"Here." Shrunken back to her normal size, she was

draped wearily in front of Lydia. "We're all here."

"I've got your lute," the warrior woman added. As

the bardling quickly slung it over his back. Lydia added

sharply, "Now, let's ride!"

They went down the rest of that steep hill at

breakneck speed, Kevin praying none of the horses

slipped or caught a hoof. Behind him, he could hear

alarm gongs starting to tear the air apart.

But we've got a good head start, we should make it mto the

forest's shelter before —

Abrilliant flash of light made him start so violently he

almost lost his seat, thinking. Sorcery! But when the

flash was followed by a vicious dap of thunder, he real-

ized the threatening storm was upon them. A wild, wet

gust of wind slammed into the horses, making them

stagger-

"We're saved!" Lydia shouted gleefully.

"No," Eliathanis cried, his eyes all at once wide and

unseeing, "there is no safety. Except in the grave."

"Don't say that!" Naitachal snapped. "I've seen quite

enough of graves, thank you!"

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 215

Eliathanis seemed to come back to himself with a

rush. "I fear you may see yet another, my friend."

"What are you saying?" Naitachal laughed. "I've

never yet seen a White Elf who was worth a copper coin

at prophesy!"

But to Kevin's surprise, he thought he caught a trace

of fear behind the mockery. And the very real hint of

otherworldly sorrow lingering in Eliathanis' eyes sent a

chill through the bardling and made him add in a

panicky rush, "It's all right, really, you'll see. We'll be

able to hide out from anyone, even an army, in the

forest."

"Will you?" The sudden sharp voice made the

horses shy, whinnying in fright. "Or will you die?"

With beautifully dramatic timing, a second bolt of

lightning split the sky. Deafened by the following crack

of thunder, Kevin stared at this sudden apparition in

stunned disbelief. There was no doubt at all who it was:

her elegant face was set in its cold, sorcerous lines. Her

green gown whipped about her in the ever-rising

storm wind that made the locks other long hair writhe

like flame.

"Carlotta! B-but how — "

"She is a sorceress," Naitachal reminded the

bardling drily. The Dark Elf's blue eyes were flickering

with their own sorcerous red embers. "I thought we

were escaping just a bit too easily."

"Listen to me," Lydia murmured. "When I give the

signal, kick your horses into a gallop."

"Don't be silly," Naitachal began, but Lydia was

already shoudng:

"And... now/"

The starded horses shot forward as one. But before

they could reach Carlotta, she shouted out savage

Words of Power — and a huge wall of flame roared up.

The horses screamed in terror, shying wildly, fighting

their riders. Kevin lost a stirrup, nearly smashed his

216 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Sherman

nose against his animal's neck, hanging on for all he

was worth-

"Told you." NaitachaTs words were chopped off as his

horse reared, making him look like a dark legend against

the dark sky, his cloak billowing out like bat wings.

"Where's Carlotta?" Lydia shouted, clinging to her

plunging horse like a burr.

"Who knows?" Tich'ki, wings beating frenetically,

couldn't quite dimb high enough to see over the magi-

cal Hame, thermals from the suddenly heated air

pushing her away every dme she tried. "Somewhere

behind all that."

"Illusion!** the bardling yelled, even though he could

feel the fire's heat and smell its smoke. Struggling with

his hysterical horse, "It's got to be illusion!"

"No illusion." The Dark Elf finally managed to bring

his mount back to all four feet. "She doesn't care if she

bums down the whole forest, as long as she stops us

long enough for — Yes, curse her, here they come."

A new bolt of lightning blazed out over what looked

like every one of the count's men-at-arms, knights and

common guards alike. The wall of flame didn't seem to

be giving them pause; not having seen it created, they

probably just thought it lightning-strike.

"We can't fight all of them," Lydia cried over the

crash of thunder. "Naitachal, how far does this fire

extend?"

The Dark Elf shrugged angrily. "I don't know the

spell Carlotta used. It could extend for leagues."

"Then we'll ride for leagues, dammit!"

The woman kicked her horse into a run, riding

parallel to the fire. and the others followed. But a new

wall of flame roared up before them, cutting off their

escape. Kevin's horse screamed in panic, and the

bardling nearly lost his seat all over again. Struggling to

stay in the saddle, he shot an anxious glance up at the

cloud-heavy sky.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

217

The mm, curse it, where's the ram? It wouldput out this fire

and give us a fighting chance to get out ofthas trap before —

"Hey, no!"

His horse had suddenly decided it had quite enough

of flames. The animal whirled before Kevin could stop

it, and bolted blindly back towards the castle — and the

waiting enemy. The bardling frantically sawed at the

reins. Wait, wait, he'd heard somewhere that if a horse

ran away with you, you were supposed to pull it

around in one big drcle.

Oh, sure, easily said! But the animal had the bit in its

teeth and a neck like iron, and in another moment

horse and rider were going to be within bowshot. He

was already dose enough to see the fiat madness in the

soldiers' eyes, to wonder with a quick thrill of horror

how Carlotta had managed to subvert a whole casde.

Sorcery? Something as simple as drugs in the com-

munal water supply? Oh, Powers, it didn't matter now,

because this idiot of a horse was going to get him killed!

Kevin was all set to jump from the animal's back and

hope he didn't break his neck when the drumming of

hoofs sounded behind him and a second horse came

rushing up beside his. The bardling caught a quick

glimpse of an elegant profile, silky golden hair:

Eliathanis!

But then the bardling got a better look at the White

Elf's face, and nearly gasped- Eliathanis' eyes were

blank green flame and his teeth were bared in a fierce,

inhuman grin-

He's gone fey, just like a hero in an old ballad, he's gone

death^mad fey and doesn't care what happens to him....

No, no, that was ridiculous, because being fey meant

being doomed, and surely Eliathanis wasn't— none of

them were —

The White Elf flattened himself along his horse's

neck, hand snaking out to catch Kevin's mount by the

bridle. Eliathanis sat back in the saddle, forcing both

218 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

animals out of their frantic run, turning them in a half

circle back towards the fire.

He never had tfas strength before, never!

And the ill-omened word "fey" returned to the

bardling's mind. No! He would not accept that!

Still grinning that strange, fierce, alien grin,

Eliathanis released Kevin's mount with a slap on the

side of its neck. Both horses raced as one as the enemy

gave chase, and ahead of them, Kevin saw Naitachal's

lips move in what was surely the beginning of a spell.

They were almost out of range of the archers, almost—

Without warning, lightning flashed and thunder

rumbled, directly overhead. As Kevin and Eliathanis

rejoined the others, the skies at last opened. A heavy

curtain of rain plunged down, and the walls of fire

hissed under the impact, sending up vast clouds of

steam.

"But there's still too much flame!" Lydia cried.

"Naitachal, can't you do something?"

The sharpness other voice made the Dark Elf start

"I was doing something," he said, biting off each word.

"Till you broke my concentration." Naitachal glanced

back at the dying flames, forward at the charging

enemy, and swore in his native tongue. "We need more

dme — but they're not going to give us any!" Suddenly

his dark, sorcerous sword was in his hand. "Terrible

odds, my friends, but they're not going to get any bet-

ter, so..."

"Aren't they?"

"What— Eliathanis, no!" Kevin gasped. "Oh no,

don't, you can't!"

With a wild shout in the elven tongue, Eliathanis

charged the foe. His hair flamed out behind him, blaz-

ing gold against the darkness, his mail and outthrust

sword and the hide of his rain-slick horse were molten

silver.

And dme seemed to stop. There was nothing living

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

219

save for that one shining rider on a shining horse. So

stunned was the enemy that they made no effective

move to defend themselves. Eliathanis' sword was a

brand, sweeping through their ranks, and wherever it

struck, a soldier fell.

"The fire's low enough to cross," Naitachal mut-

tered, hands denched on the hilt of his sword. "Come

back, you idiot. You've bought us enough rime. Come

back before they realize you're only flesh-and-blood.**

As ifhe'd heard, Eliathanis turned and forced his

horse back into a gallop. But the horse was weary from

fright and effort. It stumbled on the slick grass, caught

itself, stumbled again-

"He's still within bowshot." Naitachal's voice was

tight with alarm. "He's not going to make it."

"Yes, he is!" Kevin heard his own voice come out

high and shrill, like the voice of a child begging for a

happy ending.

"No," the Dark Elf murmured, and then, in wild

anguish, "Eliathanis, no!"

Even as Naitachal forced his horse forward, Kevin

saw an arrow flash, saw Eliathanis fall. Heartsick, he

watched the Dark Elf lean low over his horse's neck,

urging the animal to greater speed. Naitachal dropped

the knotted reins on the horse's neck, then bent out

and down, catching the fallen elf and pulling him up

across his saddle bow. As Kevin watched, breath caught

in his throat, the Dark Elf came thundering back in a

storm of arrows. To the bardling's horror, he saw

Naitachal suddenly seem to falter in the saddle. .

He's been hit, too! Dear Powers —

Almost directly before them, the Dark Elf's horse

went down. Naitachal fell free, Eliathanis in his arms.

Lydia was first to reach their side, kneeling in the

mud, staring at the White Elf. Kevin heard her sharp

inhalation and saw her face pale beneath its tan.

"Naitachal, come on. We've got to get out of here."

220 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

The Dark Elf glared up at her. "We can't leave

Eliathanis!"

"We must"

"No!"

"Naitachal, look at him." Her voice quivered with

pity. "Look. More than one arrow caught him. He's

dead, Naitachal. Eliathanis is dead. He must have died

almost instantly."

The Dark Elf was too well acquainted with death to

deny its presence now. "Damn them." It was so low a

growl Kevin almost didn't hear it "Ann, damn them!"

Very carefully, Naitachal let Eliathanis' body sag to the

ground, then looked up. And for once his eyes were the

terrible, cruel, empty eyes of a true Dark Elf. "If they want

death," he murmured, "then death they shall have."

"Oh, don't!" the bardling cried in sudden panic, ter-

rified that they were about to lose Naitachal forever Bo

Darkness, terrified of what evil he might release.

But the elf was already on his feet, striding boldly

forward into the open. Heedless of the arrows raining

about him, he called out harsh, ugly, commanding

Words, catching the storm winds, twisting them to his

use, heightening them. focusing them, turning them to

a savage, terrible frenzy. The attacking army was swept

back by the whirlwind, horses screaming, men shout-

ing as they were hurled off their feet. And still the

wind's fury grew until —

"No! Naitachal, stop it!" Struggling beneath the

weight of wind tearing at him, whipping the hair pain-

fully into his face, dragging the very air from his lungs,

Kevin fought his way to Naitachal's side. "You've got to

stop this!"

The Dark Elf's eyes were blazing with sorcerous

Power, totally wild, totally without mercy. He showed

not the slightest sign he'd heard Kevin.

"Naitachal, listen to me!" Kevin shouted with all his

might to be heard above the roar of the storm. "Those

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

221

men aren't evil! They don't have any choice in what

they're doing! Cariotta enslaved them!"

"They slew my friend." The Dark Elf's voice was

inhumanly chill. "I shall slay them."

"And me?" Kevin grabbed Naitachal's arm, only to

be flung aside as if he was weightless. Gasping, the

bardling forced his way back to face the Dark Elf direct-

ly. "Are you going to kill me, too? Are you going to kill

Lydia and Tich'ki? You will, if you don't stop this storm.

Do you want us to die? Well? D-dammit, answer me!

Do you want to kill us?"

A glimmer of life flickered in the terrible eyes. "No,"

Naitachal said, and all at once his voice was his own

again, and infinitely weary. "No. Of course not."

As he removed his will from them, the unnaturally

fierce winds faded... faded... were gone. In the sud-

den stillness, Naitachal staggered, and Kevin cried out;

"You're hurt!"

"Not badly. Not as badly as... as..."

"H-he can't be hurt now," Kevin said awkwardly.

"But we can." He put a tentative hand on NaitachaTs

arm and when the Dark Elf didn't push him away,

began to pull Naitachal with him. "It's going to take

some time for the soldiers to regroup, but we've got to

get into the forest's shelter before they do."

"Yes." The Dark Elf's voice was dull with exhaus-

tion. But he stopped by Eliathanis' body. "We cannot

leave him here."

Lydia tried to take Naitachal's free arm, only to let go

when he hissed with pain. "There's no time to bury

him," she said gently. "We don't have a choice."

"Naitachal, come on!" Tich'ki added. "I don't think

Cariotta hung around to watch, but she could be

anywhere! And her guys are going to come after us.

We've got to get out of here!"

"We cannot leave him here! Not like this!"

"But what—"

222 Me/cedes Lackey ^Josephs Shenwn

"Stand back." The Dark Elf's eyes were wild with

anguish. "Stand back, I say."

So fierce was that command that Lydia and Kevin

hurried aside, and even Tich'ki kept sdll. Naitachal

began his harsh spell once more, but this time the

bardling could have sworn some of the Words were

different.

He was right. Lightning lanced down out of the stor-

my sky, enfolding Eliathanis' body in blinding

blue-white fire.

Naitachal gave a long, shaken sigh. "I don't know the

burial customs of his clan. But surely they would find

no shame in a funeral pyre of sky-born flame."

"Surely not," the bardling murmured.

This dme when Kevin hesitantly pulled at his arm,

the Dark Elf went willingly.

Chapter XXII

This was not, Kevin mused wearily, the type of adven-

ture of which the Bards sang. Oh, Carlotta wasn't making

any further move to stop them, at least there was that.

For all the bardling knew, she had been blown aside by

the whirlwind like her soldiers, or so exhausted by her

magics she needed to rest But that hardly made matters

easy. They had only two horses left, tired horses, one of

them burdened with both Kevin and Naitachal. And as

the animals forced their way into the dense underbrush

of the forest, Lydia said suddenly:

"This isn't working. We've got to let the horses go."

"No!" Kevin protested.

"Yes. They can barely keep their feet as it is. And this

is pretty dense forest: a horse can't get through without

leaving a trail any child could follow. Besides, we can

hide better on foot."

"But Naitachal's too dred!"

"I can manage," the Dark Elf muttered, slipping off

his mount

Reluctantly, Kevin followed. Lydia slapped the

horses on their rumps, and the animals trotted wearily

away. Watching them go, the bardling thought with a

flash of wry humor:

It's not fair! Heroes aren't supposed to scutile through the

underbrush!

Yes, and by any rights at all, Naitachal's sorceries

should have torn the storm apart, too. Instead, the rain

continued to pour unrelentingly down, and the stub-

bornly stormy sky turned the forest into a nearly

224 Mercedes Lackey S^Josepha Sherman

night-black maze of roots and thorns, all of which

seemed determined to trip up the intruders or tear

their flesh.

"I'll scout ahead," Tich'ki said shortly. "I'm not

night-blind like you humans."

As she flew, though, she trailed behind her a steady

stream of what Kevin assumed could only be curses in

her native tongue: even though the thick curtain of

leaves cut off the worst of the rain, her wings were

plainly still sodden enough to hamper her flying.

"Come on," she shot back. "No laggards,"

"SucA a caring, gentle friend," Lydia muttered.

She and Kevin followed after as best they could.

Naitachal, dazed and exhausted, somehow managed to

keep pace with them-

But if we don't find shelter soon, Kevin realized, he's

going to collapse—and w with him.

But just when the bardling had decided they must

have died and been condemned to an eternity of dark

and wet and endless, thorny paths, Tich'ki came flut-

tering back. She landed on Lydia's shoulder, panting,

wings drooping wearily. But Kevin saw her sharp little

teeth flash in a grin.

"ShelterF she crowed. 'Just up ahead: a big old shell

ofa tree. Hurry up, you'U see."

She was right The oak must have been truly andent,

incredibly vast in girth and all but dead. Time and age

had worn a deep hollow in the base, a natural cave just

big enough for two humans, one elf and a fairy to fit in-

side. It smelled strongly of animals and decaying wood,

but it was blessedly dry and carpeted with a thick layer of

crumbled leaves. Kevin, sure he was soaked to the very

bone, couldn't make up his mind whether to remove his

doak and freeze or keep die soggy thing wrapped about

him and stay wet. Hopefully, he thought, the combined

body warmth of four living beings would warm the tree-

cave soon enough.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

225

"Naitachal—"

The Dark Elf had fallen to his knees with a faint

groan. Lydia hastily dropped to his side. "All right, I

know you're hurt. Let me see that arm."

"In here?" Tich'ki cut in. "Thought you humans

couldn^t see in the dark." She added in sudden alarm,

"You're not going to try lighting a fire?"

"In a tree? D'you think I'm mad?"

"I — No. That's too easy a jest"

Kevin bit his lip nervously, just barely able to make

out NaitachaTs crumpled form in the darkness. "I'll try

the Watchwood Melody again," he said in sudden

inspiration. "You know, the light-spell. I... think I can

get it to last longer this time."

There wasn't much room to take the lute out of its

case, let alone play it, but by squirming his way back

into the tree-cave, Kevin managed to hit the proper

notes and chords. He began to sing, hesitantly at first,

his singing voice feeling rusty from disuse, then more

strongly, secure that the storm outside would drown

out the sound and praying that his small magics

wouldn't be noticeable to Carlotta.

And Bardic Magic stirred within him- The tree-cave

began to glow with a feint, steady light, and Lydia

nodded in satisfaction.

"Now," she told Naitachal, "you will let me see that

arm."

The Dark Elf, eyes dosed, made no move to stop her.

Kevin winced at the sight of the long slash running

halfway down Naitachal's upper arm, but Lydia didn't

seem particularly worried.

"Arrow just grazed you. That arm's going to be sore

for a time, but hopefully that'll be about the worst of it."

She paused. "You aren't hiding any other wounds, are

you?"

"No." It was a weary whisper of sound. "My cloak

cook most of the damage.'*

226 Mercedes Lackey S^Josepha Sherman

**Ah, so it did. Look at those holes." The woman held

up a fold of black fabric and gave a soft whisde. "You

were lucky, my friend."

Naitachal winced. "Another was not," he murmured

faintly.

"Ah. Well. I — uh — don't think Eliathanis would

begrudge us a^Aiance to take care of the living before

the — before we — *'

"Before we mourn the dead. Lydia, do what you

think necessary to this slash, then let me rest"

She blinked at his suddenly cold tone. "Sure." The

woman hunted through the pouches hanging from

her belt for a time. "Oh damn. My healing herbs are all

back in the castle. Some oh so helpful lady's maid must

have tried to 'neaten up' my stuff when I wasn't watch-

ing." Lydia paused, holding up a small flask. "I do still

have this, though."

"Water?" Tich'ki piped up. "Should think you'd had

enough of water by now."

"It's not water, believe me."

"Ah, the brandy! How'd the maid miss that?"

"I don't know, but it's a good thing she did.

Naitachal, you want to take a good swig of this, then

bite down on something. This is going to hurt like hell,

but at least it should ward off wound-sickness."

Kevin winced in sympathy, nearly losing his hold on the

light-spell, as she poured the brandy on the arrow-gash.

Naitachal never made a sound. Instead, endurance

finally exhausted, he simply fainted.

"There, now," Lydia said after a moment. "That's

bandaged as best 1 can manage, what with nothing

really dry. You can stop singing now, Kevin."

The light was already fading, because the bardling's

voice was quavering so much he could barely hold the

tune. He broke off abruptly, and the tree-cave was

plunged back into darkness.

"Kevin? What is it, boy? What's wrong?"

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 227

"I d-don't... I... Eliathanis..."

"Oh hell, kid, don't be embarrassed. Nothing wrong

with grieving, be you woman or man."

But Kevin battled with himself till he'd fought back

the tears. "I — I don't understand him!"

"Who? Naitachal?"

"How can he suddenly turn so ... cold? Eliathanis

was his friend! Why isn't he grieving?"

"Ach, Kevin." Lydia's voice was very gende. "He is.

That coldness was to hide his real feelings. Look you,

I've seen a lot of people die. Too many," she added soft-

ly. "That's part of being a warrior. I've mourned a lot of

them, too, and that's also part of being a warrior. True

grief isn't something you can command. It comes out

when and where it will."

All at once Lydia gave a long, tired sigh. "You know

something? I enjoy travelling and all that but, times like

this, I really wish I had a place to come home to."

She stopped for a thoughtful moment, then added

with an embarrassed little laugh, "Like diat castle we

just left. If it wasn't already inhabited by that bitch-

witch and her buddy, it might make a good place to

settle. Despite all the hassle, the place itself had a nice

homey feel to it. Or do you think that's too crazy?"

"Not at all." Kevin straightened, staring in her direc-

tion in the darkness. "There were times in that casde

when I was really miserable; I admit it. But underneath

it all, even with those two running things and those

spoiled brats of squires, there really is something there

that could make it a good place to live!"

Working by touch, he fit the lute back into its case.

"Ah well. Let's not dream about catching the moon, as

Master Aidan would say."

Lydia chuckled softly. "Oh, I don't know about that

Dreams aren't such a bad thing to have. And some-

times — who knows? Sometimes you do catch that

moon." Kevin heard the dried leaves rustle as she

228 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Sherman

stirred. "Come on, kid, enough talk. 1 have a suspicion

we're going to be leading an active life in the next few

days, so let's try to get some sleep while we can. If we

huddle together with Naitachal, we should be warm

enough. Hungry, bruised and battered," Lydia added

wryly, "but warm enough."

"Kevin!"

The fierce hiss brought the bardling awake with a

start. "Naitachal?" The tree-cave wasn't as totally dark

as it had been, but even so, the Dark Elf's eyes still

glinted with their eerie red light. "What — " Kevin sat

bolt upright. "Carlotta! Has she — "

"She hasn't found us. Not yet. But I felt her sorcery

brush us just now. And she has set loose her hunters."

"Not human hunters," Tich'ki added, perching

beside Kevin for a moment, "not all of them. I sensed

that, too."

"And I don't think we care to meet any of them," the

Dark Elf added wryly, "so come! We must hurry."

At least it had stopped raining; they were given that

much of a boon. But the day was a waking nightmare

of being forever on the run, slipping on mud and wet

leaves, struggling through underbrush so dense it

seemed impassible, with hardly a chance to snatch a sip

from a stream, hardly a chance to swallow a handful of

berries. Lydia, experienced hunter that she was, led

the way, showing them how to throw off anything that

might be following by scent by crossing and recrossing

streams, how to avoid leaving footprints by running

along rock or fallen trees.

"Ha, why didn't I think of this before?" Tich'ki sud-

denly exclaimed during one of their brief pauses to

rest. "I can help! I'll hide our trail altogether!"

"Not by magic," Naitachal warned sharply, gashed

arm cradled against his chest. "Carlotta will surely

sense the use of any spells."

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 229

"No, no, you don't understand! You know the trick I

have of influencing minds? The way I did with the guards

back in Westerin? Well, that's not magic, stricdy speaking,

not really; it's a — a skill of die mind, sort of an unmagk to

make people unthink." She shook her head impatiendy. "I

can't put it more dearly in human terms. But I should be

able to make the trackers unthink the trail — and there

won'tbe a trace of magic for Cariotta to find!"

"Carlotta," Lydia reminded her dourly, "is part fairy.

I'm not taking bets on anything she can or can't do. Go

ahead, Tich'ki. Try your unthinking unmagic. The rest

of us are going to keep right on watching our steps."

Tich'ki grinned and darted off.

"Eh, all right, Kevin, Naitachal," Lydia snapped, get-

ting to her feet. "Rest time's over. We have some more

hiking to do!"

By the time darkness began to fall, Kevin was only

too glad to sink to the ground in the rocky litde grove

Lydia had found. Beside him, Naitachal sat in weary

silence, shrouded in his cloak, but the woman paced

restlessly about, checking the lay of the land in her

usual wary fashion.

"We're not likely to find a better place." The Dark

Elf's voice rose eerily out of the shadow of his hood.

"No," she agreed, hands on hips. "It's a pretty good

spot for camping. Easily defended, too, what with the

rocks making a natural wall on one side."

"And there is a stream nearby," Naitachal added.

"Possibly with edible water plants."

Kevin hadn't thought anything could have gotten

him to his feet, but the thought of something to eat

made him scramble up. "I'll go."

"No, kid. You wouldn't know what's safe to eat. Fll

go." She glanced around at the ever-darkening forest

"You think you can manage some sort of smokeless lit-

de fire, Naitachal?"

230 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs. Sherman

"Of course."

When Lydia returned with double armfuls of

vegetation, it was to a rabbit cooking over the barely

visible campfire the Dark Elf had concocted, "Where

did that come from?'* the woman asked.

"It popped its head up to look at us," Kevin said. He

added modesdy, "I threw a rock at it I was lucky."

"So-o!" Lydia's teeth Sashed in her indomitable grin.

"Tonight, we feast!"

A whir of wings marked Tich'ki's return. "Just in

time! I'm starved."

But it was a strangely somber meal. Now that he had a

moment to relax even a little, Kevin found himself con-

standy expecting to see Eliathanis. He caught himself

thinking. We must remember to tell him about—orlwonder

what he would thankabout—and had to force himself not to

keep looking over his shoulder for the White EI£

At last, after their scanty dinner was done and the

fire had been banked to coals, the bardling couldn't

stand it any more. Hardly aware of the others, he took

out his lute and let his fingers move across the strings.

At the back of his mind Kevin was vaguely aware that

he wasn't trying for Bardic Music: he wasn't even

trying for any music worthy of a Bard at all. But some-

how music took form beneath his fingers and here was

Eliathanis stopping in surprise, the sun turning his

hair to molten gold, and here was Eliathanis bending in

worry over the fallen Naitachal, and here was Eliathanis

grinning at the Dark Elfin sudden friendship...

And here was Eliathanis freely, joyously, giving his life

so his friends might live.

All at once Kevin's vision was blurring and his hands

were shaking so much he couldn't play any more. Face

wet, he stilled the strings to silence with a palm, then

took a deep, shaken breath and dried his eyes, drained

and a little awed by what his mind and hands had

evoked.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 231

He glanced up, aware of the others only now, and

slighdy embarrassed at their regard. Lydia, too, was

wiping her eyes, and even Tich'ki was sitting still, wines

wrapped about her like an irridescent cape. Naitachal

had his back to them all, huddled nearly double in his

black cloak, so silent that the bardling wondered if he

had even heard the music. But then Kevin heard the

Dark Elf murmur fiercely, as though angry with

himself:

"There is no time for this!"

''There never is," Lydia retorted.

The shrouded figure straightened slightly at that,

and Kevin caught a Hash of anguished eyes. But

instead of the sharp reply the bardling was expecting,

Naitachal asked simply, "Does it always hurt like this?"

"Always." Lydia paused, frowning slightly. "What,

have you never lost a friend before?"

Naitachal glared. "Have you forgotten who and

what I am? I have never Aarf a friend before."

"You have some now," Kevin reminded him softly.

But the Dark Elf, plainly embarrassed by his own

grief, pulled his hood savagely forward, hiding his face

once more. "I intend to sleep," Naitachal said shortly.

"1 advise you to do the same."

Kevin and Lydia exchanged wry glances. The

woman shrugged. "He's got a point." She hesitated for

a long, awkward while, then added quiedy, "Kevin, for

the music and all that, I... Ah, hell. What I'm trying to

say is, thank you."

The huddle of black cloak stirred faintly. "So am I,"

Naitachal admitted softly, then was silent once more-

Chapter XXIII

Night passed into day, and day into night, and the

fugitives continued to flee through the forest. Tich'ki's

"unmagic" did seem to be throwing offCarlotta's aim

when it came to any direct sorcery, but her trackers

remained grimly on the trail. Once Kevin, hiding flat in

the underbrush, not even daring to breathe, caught a

glimpse of them: squat, powerful, sharp-fanged

beings, monstrous human-ogre hybrids that sniffed

the ground like so many deadly hounds. If he fell into

their ugly hands, the bardling was pretty sure he

wouldn't have to worry about Carlotta any longer.

That dme, the trackers missed their prey completely.

But no place was safe for long. Kevin thanked the

Powers for Tich'ki, who confused those trackers as best

one fairy could, and for Lydia, who somehow kept

moving her friends from concealment to concealment

without their getting caught, skillfully doubling back

and forth on their tracks like some hunted wild thing.

Which she is, Kevin thought wearily. Which we aUare. I

can't remember the last time Ihad, a good meal, oraftiUmghl's

sleep. Ha, andif I don't getabcUhpretty soon, those trackers WB

going to be able to just nose me out!

What was truly frustrating was knowing he bore the

manuscript hokiingthe spdl to destroy Cariotta —and yet

not being able to do anything about it. When they came to

a temporary hiding place, a crushed-down thicket that

deer had used for a bed, Kevin pulled the manuscript out

in desperation and showed itto Naitachal.

"What do you make of that?"

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 233

The Dark Elf had grown almost haggard during the

chase, skin drawn tightly over the high cheekbones

and eyes glittering eerily from under the shadow of his

hood. "Let me see."

He barely moved the arm the arrow had grazed, and

Kevin felt a little pang of worry shoot through him.

"Naitachal..."

"It's nothing," the Dark Elf insisted, as he had every

time one of the others had tried to examine the wound.

"Give me the manuscript"

He studied it for a long, puzzled moment, then

raised his head, frowning.

"I can't make anything of the text, Kevin. And I mean

that quite literally. There's magic here, all right, but it's

keyed stricdy to you. The glyphs won't hold still long

enough for me to read them. Only if you can copy the

spell out for me can I hope to do something with it." The

Dark Elf's eyes glittered with a sudden cold rage. "And

once the spell is deciphered, I shall be the one to deliver

it" His words were made all the more chilling by being

delivered in a quiet, totally controlled voice. "We owe

Eliathanis this much; his death shall be avenged in full

upon Cariotta and the traitor count her ally."

"Uh,y-yes. It shall."

Kevin was almost positive that the weird, unex-

pected words in elfish had to be the components of the

spell. He could copy those out, all right. But on what?

And with what?

Wait... when I was making the copy back in the library, I

tucked the parchment into my lute case for safekeeping.

Ha, yes, it was still there, in the pocket meant for

music scores, and with it a small flask of ink as well. A

twig should make a decent enough brush.

And so, every dme Lydia deemed it safe to stop,

Kevin worked feverishly to extract the spell from the

manuscript,, making as many copies as he could, hiding

one each time the party had to move on-

234 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

The trackers can't possibly discover all our shelters. And

hopefuily someone wUlfmd the spell and be abk to complete it if

we're caught or — or failed.

But what a weird spell it seemed to be! Kevin,

curious, showed Naitachal one elfish glyph, and wasn't

really surprised when the Dark Elf shook his head.

"It looks something like elfish, yes, but you must

have made some mistake. That odd notation just to the

left of the glyph doesn't belong to any dialect of elfish I

know!"

"That's just the way it's written in the manuscript!"

Kevin protested. "See — Ah, never mind, I forgot I'm

the only one who can see it"

Just what he needed; another worry, this one that

somehow he was copying the whole thing wrong,

making the spell useless! But there wasn't anything to

do but continue.

And at last, at their next brief sanctuary, Kevin

breathed a great sigh of relief. "It's done. I've got the

whole spell copied out. Naitachal, now you can —

Naitachal?"

The Dark Elf was sagging against a tree, as though

all at once coo weak to move. "It's nothing ... a

moment's dizziness."

"Nothing, hell!" Lydia erupted. "It's that arm of

yours, isn't k?"

She made a move towards it, but Naitachal waved

her away. "We don't have the time for this." He stepped

away from the tree, now quite steady on his feet "Let

me see the spell," Taking the scrap of parchment from

the bardling, he added, "Once I have it memorized — "

The Dark Elf stopped dead. "What in the name of all

the Powers is this thing? This matches no spell I've ever

seen! All these weird notations..."

Kevin straightened so suddenly he nearly rapped

his head on a low branch. "Notations," he echoed.

"Regular notations in front of every word -.. what

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 235

if...?" Suddenly wild with suspense, the bardling

cried, "Let me see that again! Yes ... yes ... Dear

Powers.yes! I never stopped to really think about what I

was copying but: do you know what these notations

are? They're music notes'. This isn't elfish at all. No, no,

it's Bardic Magic, and this spell is meant to be svngi"

Naitachal's eyes flashed with excitement. **0f course

it isl I should have realized — But it's also untried. You

realize what that means, don't you?"

"That it's dangerous... ?"

"Oh, indeed. You will have to get very dose to Car-

lotta to even try it. And then, if it backlashes, as some

spells do, it could kill you. If it doesn't work at all, Car-

lotta certainly will kill you!"

After all that had happened so far, Kevin knew he no

longer thought of himself as a hero. not even as being

very brave. But bravery had very litde to do with this.

Carlotta had killed a friend, and would surely kill

many, many more people if she made her bid for

power.

"I'll deliver the spell," the bardling said quietly, "no

matter what it costs."

"Sure, but how?" Lydia asked. "We're stuck here in

the forest, and even though we haven't seen a trace of

(hose damned persistent trackers — "

"We've shaken them," Tich'ki interrupted-

"You dunk. I'm pretty sure they're srill after us."

"And we cannot risk letting ourselves be captured."

Naitachal's voice was all at once so thick with strain that

Kevin stared at him in alarm.

"Are you—"

"Yes, yes," the Dark Elf said impatiently. "I'm fine. As

fine as one can be without enough to eat or enough

time to rest." Naitachal made what was obviously a

mighty effort to rouse himself. "If we are taken, there is

a good chance none of us will live long enough to even

seeCariotta."

236 Mercedes Lackey ^josepha Sherman

"True." Lydia shrugged. "What will be, as the saying

goes, will be. It looks like the only thing we can do is just

go on, and hope we meet up with someone along the

way who can help us."

"Time for scouting duty!" Tich'ki said wryly, and

darted ahead.

As Kevin and Lydia followed on foot, Lydia

whispered in the bardling's ear, "I don't like the looks

ofNaitachal. If he isn't ill, I'll trade my sword fora

loom."

"I know," Kevin murmured. "Even his eyes look

tunny."

"Yeah. Fever-glazed."

"Lydia! We've got to do something!"

"Got any suggestions? He denies there's anything

wrong, and he won't even let me look at his arm." The

woman gave a wry little shrug. "It's that damned

sorcerer's pride."

And as the day progressed, it was surely only a

sorcerer's will that kept Naitachal going. But all at once

a fallen branch twisted under the Dark Elf's foot. As he

struggled to catch his balance, his wounded arm struck

against a tree trunk. With a choked cry, the Dark Elf

collapsed to one knee.

"Oh hell." Lydia tore at the makeshift bandage even

as Naitachal weakly tried to fend her off. "Stop fighting

me! You're burning up with fever and — Oh hell," she

repeated helplessly, staring.

Naitachal's dark skin hid any sign of inflammation,

but the swelling around the sdll raw-looking gash was

obvious even to the untrained Kevin.

"Wound-fever," Lydia murmured. "Why didn't you

say something?"

"What could I say? What could you do?"

"I could have done something'. I knew the brandy

wasn't enough. Why didn't I — "

"No. This is not your fault, Lydia." Naitachal sighed.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

237

"My people have somewhat more immunity to iron-

wounds than do the White Elves, possibly from living

as close as we do to the inner Earth Dark. But such

things are sdll perilous to us."

"You still should have said — "

"No." Naitachal struggled to his feet. "To stop is to

die, as simply as that Come. I will keep up."

"I doubt it." Lydia muttered under her breath.

"There's a limit even to a sorcerer's will."

"I will keep up," the Dark Elf repeated flatly.

Just then, Tich'ki came whirring back. "Strangers! A

whole troop of people and wagons up ahead!"

"Wagons!" Lydia shook her head, puzzled. "Can't be

soldiers or those cursed trackers. Tich'ki — "

"I know. Find out more about them. I'm gone."

She was back within a short dme. "Forget any help

from them. They're nothing but some travelling

minstrels."

"Bah." Lydia turned awayindisgust "They're useless."

But Kevin, moved by a sudden wild hope, told

Tich'ki, "Go on. What else can you tell us about them?"

The fairy shrugged in mid-air. "What can I say?

They're a colorful lot, and their leader's a sharp-faced

fellow with bright green eyes."

Kevin started. It couldn't be, could it... ?"D-didyou

happen Co catch his name?"

"Ber-something, I think."

"Berak?"

"That's it!" The fairy stared at him. "You know him?"

"In a way." Scumbling over his words in sudden

'eagerness. Kevin stammered, "L-listen, everyone:

Berak and his troupe is — are — friends of Master

Aidan. We can hide with them for a while!"

"Look," Lydia said shortly, "we've been lied to and

tricked along every step of this tittle adventure of ours.

Do you really think we can trust them?"

"We can! I can be fooled, even you can be fooled —

238 Mercedes Lackey^'Josephs Sherman

but my Master's a full Bard. No one's going to fool him.

Come on! Maybe we can actually beg a hot meal out of

Berak- And he and the troupe might even have some

valuable news to share!"

Lydia shrugged. "On your head be it, kidi"

For one brief, startling moment, Kevin could have

sworn no time at all had passed since he'd first left

Bracklin. There were the same gaudy red and blue

wagons, the same cluster of brightly dressed men,

women and children gathered around a communal

campfire, and the bardling was overwhelmed by such a

sudden surge of homesickness he nearly staggered.

There was Berak, exuberant and arrogant as ever,

pacing restlessly back and forth, as though he bore too

much pent-up energy to be still.

He stopped short, staring at Kevin. "Ha! So there you

are!"

"You... were expecting me?"

"Oh, eventually! At least I was hoping you'd show

up! You've been stirring up enough excitement in

recent days for a dozen bardlings." The sharp green

eyes noted Naitachal — completely hidden in his by

now tattered black cloak — and came to rest on Lydia.

Berak swept down in a theatrical bow. **I had no idea

you were travelling in the company of such a lovely

lady."

"Ha," Lydia said, but to Kevin's astonishment, she

reddened slightly anyhow.

"Ah, but from the looks of the lot of you," Berak con-

tinued without missing a beat, "you could use a good

meal. Come, join us."

But Naitachal never moved. "Kevin," he said faintly,

"Remember when I boasted I could keep up? I can't.

In fact," the Dark Elf added, swaying slightly, "if I don't

sit down, right now, I think I may do something foolish.

Like faint."

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

239

Kevin and Lydia caught him just in time. In the next

moment, they were surrounded by the minstrel

troupe, helping hands reaching out. Berak wormed

his way through the crowd and slipped a supporting

arm around the Dark El£

"Back offl" he shouted to the others. "Give the man

room to breathe! You and you, drag that bench over

here. Someone go get Seritha. And you..."

Berak's voice faltered for an instant as Naitachal's

hood slipped back, revealing his unmistakably Dark Elf

features. But then the minstrel shrugged and shouted,

"Seritha! Seritha, hurry!" He added to Naitachal, help-

ing him to the bench, "She's our Healer. Have you up

and well in no time."

To Kevin's surprise, Seritha turned out to be the

plump, motherly woman he'd first seen in buttercup

yellow: hardly the sort, he thought, to harbor any sort

of Power. But she laid bare the arrow gash with quiet

skill. And as soon as she placed her hands on the

wound, Kevin saw Power well up about her, endrcle

her in a pale blue cloud, brightening to dazzling blue-

white where her hands touched Naitachal's arm. The

bardling thought he saw unhealthy flesh slough away

under that touch, and felt his too-empty stomach lurch

in protest. He hastily turned away, but after a time

sheer curiosity made him look once more.

Seritha, looking worn but satisfied, was straighten-

ing- Naitachal, eyes wild with relief, was getting to his

feet— and not a mark marred the smooth skin of his

arm. At Seritha's wave, a little boy brought them

flagons of something that smelled sharply herbal and

was presumably strength-restoring. Both Healer and

Dark Elf drank thirstily then smiled at each other.

Nakachal bowed.

"I am forever in your debt, lady."

She beamed. "I'm hardly a lady. And I only did what

any Healer should do." Seritha made a shooing

240 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Stwnwn

gesture with both hands. "Off with you now. Go reas-

sure your friends."

Naitachal grinned. "I hear and obey!**

As the Dark Elf approached, Kevin asked breath-

lessly, "How — how do you feel?"

"Healed. Absolutely, totally healed."

"Now that's truly amazing," Lydia said. "I never

thought an ordinary human could wield that type of

Power."

"No," the Dark Elf murmured thoughtfully,

"neither did I." His glance locked with that ofBerak.

But then Naitachal shrugged. "So be it," he said, so

meaningfully Kevin could have sworn he'd meant to

say, I'll keep your secret.

What secret? What was going on between those two?

But then the wonderful aroma of roasting meat hit

his nostrils, and Kevin forgot all about secrets for the

moment

"Don't gobble," Lydia warned him. "Your stomach's

shrunk. You'll make yourself ill."

Oh, but it was a struggle not to wolf down the meat

and bread and cheese, the wine and sweetmeats. At

last, feeling alive again for the first time in he didn't

know how many days, Kevin sat back with a contented

sigh.

"My friends," he told the minstrels, "we can't pos-

sibly repay this."

They laughed. "No need! No need!"

"But," the bardling added, as casually as he could,

"we... ah... separated a good many days ago."

"Separated!" someone teased. "You ran off, is what

happened!"

"Uh, well, yes," Kevin admitted reluctantly, aware of

Lydia's amused glance. "But now, what have you been

doing since then? Have any news?"

Berak shrugged. "Old news by now. Count Volmar is

going to be hosting a major fair at his castle shortly."

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 241

"And we're to perform at it," a boy piped up. "Before

the count himselfl"

Berak grinned. "That's right, Riki. Before the count

himself." His grin faded slightly as he turned back to

Kevin- "You know, there are odd rumors these days.

Rumors that Count Volmar is going to make some sort of

major announcement- You know anything about that?"

"N-no. Not really."

"Indeed. Well, rumor or no, the truth is that cer-

tainly every liegeman and ally the count has is

streaming in for the grand event. Whatever it may be."

Kevin met Berak's inquisitive stare as innocently as

he could. Forcing a grin, the bardling said, "Well, it's

been a long day. If you don't mind, we'll spend the

night here with your people."

Berak was plainly disappointed not to have learned

any deep secrets from his guests, but he bowed from

the waist. "Our camp is, of course, your camp. Make

yourselves at home."

As soon as they were alone in the shelter of a wagon,

Tich'ki popped out of hiding. "You could have slipped

me more food!" she complained to Lydia.

"And have everyone wonder why I was feeding my

hair?"

Naitachal ignored them. "What of Berak's news?

That sounded truly ominous to me."

"Me, too," Kevin agreed. "This isn't just some litde

tourney the count decided to throw, not if he's calling

in all his allies to hear some grand declaration."

"Exactly." The Dark Elf frowned. "It just might be

that Volmar is gambling on Carlotta's behalf, staking

all, as the saying goes, on one throw of the dice."

"If that's true," Lydia mused, "then losing one Hole

bardling — sorry, Kevin — and one spell isn't going to

stop them. They must have had this plan in motion for

months."

"Sure," the bardling added, "and I'm one very small

242 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sfierman

fly in the ointment- One they think they can afford to

remove at their leisure." He fought down the surge of

indignant pride: he was small and insignificant — so far.

"This could be just the chance we need to deliver the

spefl."

"If we can take these folk into our confidence,"

Naitachal said.

"If we dare," Lydia muttered.

"If we can," Kevin added quietly, "in good con-

science expose them to our own danger."

"Ah. Well. There is that."

The bardling glanced at the others. "I think the best

thing is for you to split up and go into hiding, first off."

"That's ridiculous," Lydia said. "We're not going

to—"

"Please, let me finish. There's no point in you going

into danger because — well, even if this spell works,

even ifCarlotia is disabled. Count Volmar won't be.

And anyone who's with me is going to be in big

trouble."

"For a change," Lydia said drily.

"Youll be in that trouble, too," Naitachal reminded

thebardling. "I've already... lost... one friend. I don't

want to lose another."

"I don't want to be lost, either' But..." Kevin shook

his head. "To put it bluntly, I'm going to be worried

enough as it is. I don't want to have to worry about

anyone else. Particularly not those I care about. Or

those who've helped us, either."

"The minstrels."

"Exactly. I'd like to travel to the castle with them; it

does seem to be the obvious way back in. But I really

want to keep their involvement in all this to an absolute

minimum." Kevin gave a shaky sigh. "There's not

enough time for anything other than what I think

knights call desperation moves. There won't be any

heroes coming out of this."

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

243

"Sounds like you've gained some sense at least," said

a sardonic voice. "Maybe even enough to keep you

from being killed."

Kevin nearly sprained his neck twisting about in

shock. That voice ... It was only Berak who stood

there, and yet...

"Don't you think the masquerade has gone far

enough?" Naitachal asked the minstrel.

Berak grinned. "You knew what I was right away,

didn't you?"

The Dark Elf grinned in return. "Even as you recog-

nized me."

Lydia looked from one to the other. "What are you

talking about?"

"[ust this." Berak murmured a quiet Word. And... it

wasn't so much that his face and form changed as it was

that a masking glamor seemed to fall away. Kevin

stared. How could he ever have missed how high those

cheekbones were» how sharply slanted those eyes? And

that hair was surely far too silky to be human hair—

"You're an elfi" Kevin gasped in alarm. "You're all

elves!"

Chapter XXIV

Berak chuckled, "We're all elves," he agreed, "all my

troupe." The minstrel gestured to where they, laugh-

ing, had also shed their glamor of humanity.

Tich'ki wriggled out of hiding. "So that's it!" she

exclaimed. "Clever disguises! So obvious, right under

the humans' noses and not one of them ever noticed!"

Berak's eyes widened ever so slightly at the fairy's

sudden appearance, but all he did was dip his head in

polite acknowledgement and say smoothly, "Humans

do tend to see what they expect to see.**

Lydia snoned. "No wonder Seritha's Power was so

much more than anything a human could master!"

"Exactly."

But Kevin was still staring. "1 know you! You're the

group who surrounded me in the forest that night!

Yes, and scared the life out of me, too!"

"We were trying to scare the life into you, young-

ling," Berak corrected drily. "You were much too cocky

then for your own survival."

"I don't understand something," Naitachal cut in.

"You are very obviously White Elves, aD of you, and yet

you never hesitated to help an enemy."

"A Dark Elf, you mean?" Berak raised a brow. "And

are you our enemy?"

"No, of course not. But — " Naitachal gave a small

sigh of confusion. "I really don't understand. What

dan are you? What clan can you possibly be that you

don't share the usual prejudice against my kind?"

"No dan at all, or one of our own imagining."

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

245

"And what does that mean?"

Berak smiled. "Simply that we are the bits and tatters

of many dans, the outcasts, the ones who couldn't fit in

with all the staid and somber old traditions. We like to

laugh, to rove, to sing and play our songs for others, elf

or human, and share our joy with them. It amuses us,

just as it amuses us to disguise ourselves as humans."

"My Master knew, though, didn't he?" Kevin asked.

"What and who you really are, I mean.**

"Of course." The green eyes narrowed slightly. "And

it's past time you started thinking about that Master.

We've been crying all this time to track you down!" He

shook his head. "We woke, and you were gone. We

reached Count Volmar's castle, and you were gone

from there, too. We went back to Bracklin, only to leam

you had never returned. Master Aidan has been frantic

with worry. Why, he even considered going after you

and the spell himself, despite his too-sudden age and ill

health."

Ill health? Master Aidan? It was the first Kevin had

heard of that. And yet... with a sudden surge of guilt

he remembered all the times he'd thought the old Bard

lazy or afraid, remembered how he'd seen his Master's

pallor and shrugged it off as the result of too much of

an indoor life. The signs of carefully concealed illness

had been there all along. He'd simply failed, in his

impatience and arrogance, to notice them.

Wait, now, what else had Berak said? "Too-sudden

age?" the bardling asked hesitantly. "I don't—"

"Think, boy!" Berak snapped. "Aidan was a young-

ling when he rescued the king, not all that much older

than you. Only some thirty years have passed. Even for

you short-lived humans that's not such a vast span."

"But—but he's old!" Kevin insisted. "He's been old

ever since I've known him!"

"Ai-yi, Kevin! Who do you think created that spell to

destroy Cariotta? Bardic Magic is a Powerful, perilous

246 MercedesLackey ^Josephs Sherm&n

thing: it created the spell, yes, but in the processAidan was

forced to de up his age and health within the thing until he

notonger had thestrength to do anythingaboutit"

"Then speaking the speB—"

"May restore him.** Berak shrugged with true elven

fatalism. "Or it may not. But either way, you must

make his sacrifice worth it"

"I will," Kevin said softly. And I'll make it up to you,

Master Aidan. "But there's something I must do, here

and now. Take these, please." He gave Berak all but

one of the remaining copies he'd made of the spell. "At

least this way it won't be lost with me."

"What... is this thing?" Berak peered at the parch-

ment. " Elfish, yet not quite elfish...."

"It is, we pray, the spell that shall put an end to Car-

iotta," Naitachal said. "Berak, if you will permit it, we

will ride with you. And together you and I and Kevin

can set about deciphering the thing."

"Why?" the minstrel asked suspiciously. "Why

Kevin?"

The bardling sighed. "Because the spell's Bardic

Magic. But I can't read elfish. And unless you and

Naitachal can tell me how to pronounce the glyphs

properly, I'll never be able to sing them."

"You!" Berak glanced sharply from Kevin to

Naitachal, then began speaking very rapidly in the

elven tongue.

Naitachal held up a hand. "Kevin and I have gone

over all the dangers. I agree, it's an incredibly risky

thing for him to try. But neither you nor I are qualified

to handle Bardic Magic. Kevin is."

"But he's not a Bard! The boy is just a bardling!"

"Still, I'm as dose to a Bard as we're going to find in

such a short time- And we've wasted enough of that

time already. Will you help us, Berak?"

"So-o! The cub grows fangs! Yes, youngling, I will

help you. And pray for you as well," he added wryly.

CASTLE. OF DECEPTION

247

It wasn't an easy decipherment. As the wagons rolled

and ratded their way toward Count Volmar's castle, the

two elves spent much of the next day bent over the

parchment, arguing "It says teatal" or "No, no, that has

to read sentaila, not sentailach \"

When they were satisfied with each glyph, they

made Kevin recite it till they were sure he had the in-

tonation correct, then sing it to the corresponding

note.

"When do I get to put the whole thing together?"

"You don't!" Naitachal said in alarm. "Do you want

to trigger the spell here and now?"

"Uh... no. But if I can't rehearse the spell now, how

am I going to know I've got it right?"

The Dark Elf grinned without humor. "Therein," he

said drily, "lies the adventure."

"But I think you do have the component glyphs

properly memorized," Berak added in what was

presumably meant to be a comforting tone. "Naitachal,

there is one unwoven thread to all this that bothers me."

"Eh?"

"You say Cariotta is disguising herself as the count's

niece. Well then, what happened to the real Charina?

There was one, after all..."

The Dark Elf shuddered as though a sudden cold

draft had hit him- "I think I know what happened," he

said at last. "I.. .just could not bear to..." Naitachal

turned sharply away. "I was afraid to cast this spell.

Afraid that I might find myself instead tempted to drag

Eliathanis back from — I didn't dare, do you under-

stand?"

"I do," Kevin murmured. "But Naitachal, what are

you saying? That —that the real Charina is ... that

Cariotta... that Charina... Powers, what if her spirit's

enslaved?"

"I thought of chat." The Dark Elf slumped in

248 Mercedes Lackey^JosephaSherman

resignadon. "So be it I will do what I must- Berak, I

will need a clear, sheltered place this evening, and as

few distractions as possible."

The White Elf nodded. "You shall have that"

The night there in the forest grove was very dark,

the only hght coming from the single small campfire

built between the vee formed by the two wagons. The

troupe was hidden in those wagons, or out in the

forest, but when Kevin and Lydia would have gone

with them, Naitachal called out:

"Wait You, as well, Berak. Say nothing, do nothing,

only sit where you are until I signal you to leave. I will

need your presences as an anchor."

An anchor to what? To life? Kevin felt a cold chill

steal through him. What if Naitachal was dragged over

the border into death? How could they possibly pull

him back?

But the Dark Elf didn't seem particularly worried,

though his face, picked out in stark relief by the danc-

ing flames, was grim and his stance tense. Without

warning, he began a chant, so softly Kevin almost

couldn't hear him. Berak heard, though; the bardling

could feel him shudder.

Somehow, soft though the words were, they weren't

quite obeying natural law. They weren't fading.

Instead, like so many layers of woven doth, each new

phrase fell atop the one before it, never fading, slowly

filling up the night, slowly filling up the very air, call-

ing, demanding, summoning...

And suddenly they were no longer alone in the

clearing. Kevin was only dimly aware ofLydia's gasp,

only dimly heard his own sharply drawn in breath.

Lost in a mix of amazement and terror, he stared rill his

eyes ached at a pale glow all at once there above the

fire, slowly condensing into the figure of a girl...

Charma's ghost...

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 249

She wasn't as extravagantly lovely as her counterfeit

Her hair was pale yellow, not spun gold, her face

merely pretty rather than beautiful. And yet she was so

much the more charming for not being perfect that

Kevin felt his heart ache as though it would break, felt

his cheeks suddenly wet with the loss of What Might

Have Been.

"Who are you?" Naitachal said in the human

tongue, his voice the essence of gentleness.

*T . . . was ... I am ..." The ghostly blue eyes

widened in fright. "] don't remember . . . Why am I

here? Where am I?"

"You must remember. Who are you?"

"I...I...can't..."

"You must- Who are you?"

"I can't'"

Kevin ached to shout out, "Leave her alone! Can't

you see she really doesn't know?" But somehow he

managed to keep from making a sound, and Naitachal

continued relentlessly:

**Whoareyou?"

"Charina!" the ghost screamed all at once. "I am

Charina!"

The Dark Elf's head drooped, and Kevin could hear

him gasp for breach. After a moment, Naitachal con-

tinued, his voice gentle once more:

"Where are you, Charina?"

"I... don't know... It's so dark... dark and cold...

so cold ... I don't want to know!"

"Never mind," the Dark Elf crooned. "Go back.

Back. See the day as it was. The day before the dark-

ness. Do you see it?"

Her frightened face seemed to tighten. "Yes."

"Where are you, Charina?"

"The castle. My uncle's castle. I am up on the ram-

parts and — oh, look at the pretty thing!"

"What are you doing, Charina?"

250 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Sherman

"Leaning forward to see the — No! No! Please,

don't! No!"

The sheer terror of that scream cut Kevin to the

heart. Oh, Naitachal don't'Lei her be!

But the Dark Elf continued softly, "Who is it,

Charina? What is he doing?"

"Uncle! Uncle, please! I won't tell anyone! You don't

have to kill me!"

"Who killed you, Charina?"

"No, no, there's been a mistake, it's all a mistake. I'm

alive and — "

"Who killed you, Charina?"

"I — My uncle killed me! He pushed me from the

ramparts when none could see! He murdered me and

threw my body down a refuse shaft!"

She burst into an anguished keening, rocking back

and forth in mid-air. Without taking his glance from

her, Naitachal fiercely waved the watchers away. They

scrambled up and behind the wagons without any

argument.

"Oh, that poor kid!" Lydia whispered. "She didn't

even get a chance to live before that bastard —"

Berak waved her to silence. "Now comes the most

difficult part." His voice was so soft it barely disturbed

the air. "Now he must help her deal with her own death

and at last find rest."

They waited in silence as the time crept slowly by.

And at last Naitachal staggered out to meet them. He

said not a word, but sank to the ground, head in hands.

Berak moved to his side, murmuring in elfish, and

Naitachal nodded. The White Eif nodded as well, and

returned to Kevin and Lydia-

"It's done," he said softly. "That poor lost child is

gone."

Naitachal continued to sit where he was, black cloak

like a shroud about him, and all at once Kevin couldn't

stand it. Seritha was already brewing one other herbal

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

251

teas, and the bardling took a flagon from her and hur-

ried to the Dark Elf's side.

"Naitachal? Naitachal, it's me. Kevin."

The Dark Elf slowly raised his head, his eyes empty.

"H-here," the bardling insisted. "Drink."

For a moment he wasn't sure Naitachal was going to

obey, but then a hand cold as the grave took the flagon

from him. The Dark Elf held it for a moment in both

bands, gratefully absorbing its heat, then drank. For a

dme he sat with dosed eyes. Then Naitachal turned to

look at Kevin again. And this time life glinted in the sor-

cerouseyes.

"Thank you. I was wise to name you an anchor."

"And... Charina is..."

"Gone. Though gone where I can't say. And no," the

Dark Elf added with a hint of returning humor, *Tm

not being metaphysical. She was a gende girl, but she

did, after all, come of warrior stock. I dare say we've not

seen the last of her just yet.**

"What... ? "

But more Naitachal wouldn't say.

"The best way to be invisible," Berak said with his

usual dramatic flair, "is to be obvious. If we try to sneak

into Count Vomiar's castle like thieves with something

to hide, Carlotta is sure to notice."

Naitachal nodded. *5ust as she'd be sure to notice

any manner of magic-working." He glanced at Kevin

and Lydia. "Now, those two should make convincing

enough members of your troupe."

"With a little judicious dying of hair," Seritha added,

eying Lydia's curly black locks, "and some nice,

minstrelly recostuming. But as for you," she added,

studying Naitachal, "hmm..."

"I am no(," the Dark Elf said flatly, "dressing up as a

dandng girl- Once was quite enough, thank you."

Berak gave a shout of laughter. "AaAo<?"

252 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Shennan

"You heard me. We made a pretty group, the lot of

us, Kevin here and Lydia and Eliathanis — "

Naitachal broke offin mid-sentence, pain flashing in

his eyes. Kevin winced, remembering the White Elf's

embarrassment and the Dark Elf's teasing, remember-

ing that silly, happy dme that seemed so long ago.

Berak's sharp, clever gaze shot from the bardling to

Naitachal. "Never mind," he said gendy. "We won't

need anything quite so ... ah ... drastic. Hey-o.

everyone! Prepare to ride!"

The elven minstrel troupe paraded into Count

Volmar's casde with cymbals clashing and trumpets

blaring, and sec up camp, along with all the other

groups of minstrels, acrobats and stage-magicians, in

the increasingly crowded outer bailey.

"How do you think I look?" Lydia, grinning, tossed

her newly dyed, brazen hair, and Naitachal shook his

head wryly-

"About as elven as Count Volmar. But definitely not

like that wanton warrior woman."

"Wanton!" She tapped him with her fan. "I'll give

you wanton, you stage-magician, you!"

The Dark Elf looked down at himself and laughed.

"Stage-magidan," he said ruefully. They had decided

to play up Naitachal's dramatic coloring by dressing

him in the gaudiest of red robes, a gold-threaded scarf

draped theatrically about his head and face.

Kevin, who was dressed in fairly gaudy yellow and

purple himself, wasn't really listening to their nervous

banter, instead, he stared thoughtfully up at the

various casde towers. "There," he murmured sudden-

ly, "beside the Great Hall."

"The chapel?" Berak asked. "What about it?"

"Not the chapel. The bell tower next to it."

"Whatareyou—Ah. You're thinking of acoustics."

"Exactly." Kevin studied the tower for a long

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

253

moment. It was plain and square-sided, with no win-

dows save for the great arches at the very top. "The bell

can't be rung. I remember someone saying it had

cracked and they hadn't gotten around to getting it

down and recast"

"But that's still a pretty-looking sound chamber it's

hanging in." Berak smiled faintly. "Quite nicely

designed. Anyone standing in it who decided to start

singing would be heard all over the casde."

"He would," Kevin agreed. "And if I have any say in

things, he will be."

"That officious servant told me my troupe isn't to

perform until some time tomorrow. And of course the

site of the performance, of all the performances, is

going to be in the courtyard. Coincidentally, right in

front of that chapel. With its oh so pretty bell tower."

Berak and Kevin exchanged conspiratorial grins.

But even as he tried to act the role of a minstrel

without a care in the world, calmly helping the others

prepare for tomorrow's show, Kevin's hands shook.

His heart pounded so fiercely he was sure the casually

watching guards were going to hear it and drag him

away for questioning. Berak had sent messengers off to

King Amber and Master Aidan with word of what had

happened, but the bardling knew he couldn't count on

them to get here in time to do anything.

It—it's all up to vs. To me.

Gods, gods. he couldn't make a move until after

dark, and here it was only afternoon! How was he ever

going to get through this day? And even after the night

came, if it ever did, what if he couldn't get into that bell

tower? What if Count Volmar had locked it, or set a

guard, or—

Kevin battled widi his growing panic. This was stupid.

After all, the whole thing came down simply to this:

Tomorrow he, Naitachal and Lydia would be heroes —

Or they would be dead.

Chapter XXV

There was some mercy, Kevin thought: at least there

was no moon this night. It wasn't difficult, thanks to

Naitachal's elven night-vision, for three people to steal

across the crowded courtyard to the bell tower without

waking anyone — and without any merely human

guard being able to spot them.

The bardling paused at the base of the bell tower to

look nervously up and up its height: a starkly black

mass against the star-filled sky. The tower hadn't

seemed quite so tall from the outer bailey...

Don't be silly, he scolded himself. You -were higher than

that when you were up on the castle tower

Sure, he answered himself. And look how that turned

out!

Naitachal, who was quietly testing the cower door,

drew back with a sudden hiss. "Curse the man and his

suspicious mind!" It was a savage whisper. "I know

bronze is expensive, but does he really think someone's

going to try stealing a heavy bell?"

"Wh-what's the matter?" Kevin asked.

"He's bolted the cursed door!"

Lydia gave a frustrated sigh. "Can't you cast some

sort of spell—"

"I'm a necromancer," the Dark Elf said flady, "not a

lockpick. Besides, you know any use of magic would

bring Cartotta down on our heads."

"Wonderful," Lydia repeated. "Now what do we do?**

A snicker cut the sudden silence. "Helpless

creatures!"

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

255

"Tich'ki! What—"

"Here, help me. This thing is cursed heavy!"

The fairy had stolen a whole coil of rope. "Tich'ki,

this is great!" Lydia whispered. She craned her head

back to study the tower. "Now, how are we going to get

it up there?"

Tich'ki sighed in mock exasperation. "Do I have to

do everything around here?"

She snatched up one end of the rope and started

flapping her way up, struggling against its weight.

Naitachal, watching closely so he wouldn't entangle

her or destroy her balance, played the rope out, coil by

coil.

"She's at the top," he murmured. "Ah! She has it!"

Tich'ki came spiralling down. "That's that- I've tied

the thing strongly enough to hold even your weights!

Now it's up to you."

Lydia's teeth flashed in the darkness. "All right, let's

go! Me first, I chink, then Kevin, then you, Naitachal in

case the kid has trouble."

"I won't — " the bardling started, but Naitachal cut

in calmly:

"Agreed."

Before Kevin could say anything more, Lydia was

swarming up the rope with, he thought, disgusting

ease.

"She made it," Naitachal whispered after a few

moments. "Your turn, Kevin."

Just what I need: another chance to ruin my hands, this tine

with rope bums. Ah well, better my hands than our lives!

He took a firm grip on the rope, braced his feet

against the side of the tower, and started to climb. To his

relief, the rope was knotted, giving him something to

grasp. But he'd never done anything like this. Powers,

he hadn't even climbed trees when he was a child, not

once he'd started studying music and had to be con-

cerned about his hands! He could feel the ache in his

256 Mercedes Lackey ^josepha Shernvm

arms and thighs already, and even the familiar weight

of the lute on his back was threatening to pull him over

backwards.

Cone on! Don't be a baby! IfLydia can do it, so can you!

Hey, he had made it! Kevin scrambled up over the

rim of one of the arches and stood aside so Naitachal —

who also swarmed up the rope with disgusting ease —

could join them.

"It's about time!" Tich'ki jibed. "Watch your footing.

There's only this narrow strip of stone and the stairway

down." She fluttered in mid-air. "The whole tower's

hollow!"

Kevin shrugged. "Of course it is. They never

expected anyone to stay here for very long. The bell

would deafen anyone caught up here."

"That is, if it wasn't cracked so badly it couldn't be

rung," Lydia said with a grin. "Lucky us!" She glanced

around. "Naitachal, you don't need a dear view of the

courtyard, do you?"

"No. 1 sense cast magic and shield Kevin from it

wherever I stand."

"Fine. Then you take the left side, over here. I'll be

on the right, where I can get a dear shot at any would-

be snipers. And you, of course, Kevin, get the place of

honor here in the center." She grinned. "Now all we

have to do is wait."

Tich'ki tittered. "Nighty night, everybody! Try not to

fall off the ledge in your sleep!"

"Thank you, Tich'ki," Naitachal muttered. "Thank

you very much,"

"You're welcome!" the fairy laughed, and darted

away before he could hit her.

It might not have been the single most miserable

dme he'd spent; there certainly had been worse during

their advemurings. But Kevin, blinking blearily in the

chill light of early morning, not at all rested and not

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

257

quite daring to stretch lest he lose his balance decided

he had to rate this cold, hard, precarious night just past

right up there with the worst

Naitachal was already on his feet, gaudy finery

replaced some dme in the night by his usual somber

black, and Lydia, stripped down to her preferred war-

rior garb, bow and quiver within easy reach, was

limbering up her muscles as best she could in that nar-

row space.

/ wish we had something to eat other than a flask of water

and some bread and cheese, something warm, Kevin thought

wistfully. Ha, he added, looking gingerly down into the

depths of the tower, and I wish we had... ah... more

refined sanitary facilities, too!

Ah well, at least it was morning, and the sun would

soon be warming things up. The morning he would

win or die — No, curse it, he wasn't even going to think

about that, not yet!

"Good morning," he said.

Lydia snorted. "More or less!" She leaned daringly

out to study the courtyard far below. "At least we're

going to get a splendid view of the whole event. That's

got to be the count's chair, there on that dais, under the

canopy- Now, if only Carlotta will just cooperate by

showing up with him...."

She did. Kevin tensed as the false Charina, pretty in

blue silk, simpered out to take her place beside Count

Volmar, who was dad in rich robes of dark red-violeL

That's almost royal purple! Kevin thought indignantly.

They really are planning to make a move towards the throne!

Well, not if I have anything to say about it!

Then he had to laugh at his own bravado.

Not if I'm allowed to have anything to say about it, the

bardling corrected wryly.

Lydia was right They really did have a splendid view

of the whole event- And an endless event it was, too,

with minstrels being replaced by acrobats being

258 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

replaced by more minstrels being replaced by — Kevin

fought back a yawn, astonished that he could feel

bored even while he ached with tension. And had he

really been cold before? Now it was hot in this tower,

baking as it was directly in the sun, so hot the bardling

envied Lydia her scanty garb.

Powers, would Berak's troupe never get to perform?

Kevin took yet another small sip of water, trying to

keep his throat moist. Were they going to be stuck up

here undl they starved or died of thirst? Would they

never get to even try the spell that had cost them so

much already and —

"There they are." Naitachal's voice was right with

tension. "Be ready, Kevin."

"I—lam."

Between the hopefully fine acoustics of this sound

chamber and with —again, hopefully — his own Bar-

dic Magic to provide the rest, there should be no way

for Carlotta to escape the sound of his voice till the spell

was cast

Oh please, he prayed to all the Powers, let it be so!

In order to make the best use of the chamber's

acoustics, Kevin realized, there was only one place he

could stand: squarely in front of the bell, in plain view

— and bowshot — of the crowd. If Lydia or Naitachal

failed to protect him...

No. They'd been through so much together already;

he wouldn't doubt them now.

Berak's troupe were performing with all uieir elven

skill, "carrying the crowd," as Berak would put it,

taking them through rousing heroic ballads and songs

so light and humorous that waves of laughter surged to

Kevin's ears.

Come on, he begged them. You don't have to put on

quite so good a show, do you? Or so long?

But Berak was a true showman, after all. No matter

how tense the situation, he wasn't going to leave an

CASTLE OF DECEPTION

259

audience unsatisfied. By the time he finally sang the

opening notes of the ballad he and Kevin had agreed

upon, the ancient, tragic "Song of Ellian and Tens "

that tale of doomed young love, the bardling was al-

most too numb from tension to recognize it.

Berak and his troupe sang with exquisite simplicity,

barely ornamenting each line, tracing the words deli-

cately with harp and flute, their every word filled with

quiet grief and tenderness. And the noisy, restless

crowd, bit by bit, fell still. The ballad came to its bit-

tersweet ending- The lovers sank into each others'

arms, their lives slowly, peacefully ebbing away....

It was done. The stunned audience paid Berak's

troupe that rarest, greatest of tributes: absolute silence.

They'll start cheering in a moment, Kevin knew. It's got to

be now!

Oh gods, the bardling thought in a surge of panic, he

wasn't ready, he couldn't remember the words, his

voice wasn't going to cooperate —

But then Kevin realized he was doing it, he was sing-

ing out his spell, the sound chamber amplifying his

voice so it rang out over the courtyard.

Yet even in that moment he knew, from the heart of

his musician's being, that what he was doing wasn't

enough. Oh, Powers, why hadn't he realized this

before? The spell needed more than bare recitation to

work! It needed heart, it needed belief, it needed a

Power he simply didn't possess. The very soul of the

music was missing, and without it Carlotta would still

triumph —

No, ah no! All those poor people will die!

And all at once something seemed to tear loose

within Kevin's heart. All at once he couldn't be afraid,

not for himself. Wild with this sudden flame of hope, of

pity, he sang for Eliathanis, he sang for Charina, he

sang for all the good, kind, ordinary people whose lives

Cariotta would destroy.

260

Mercedes Lackey ^josepha Sherman

And magic, true, strong Bardic Magic fully grown at

last roused within him. Feeling nothing but the fire suig-

ing through him, hearing nothing but the sound of the

spell-song, Kevin was hardly aware ofCarlotta's shriek of

disbelieving rage or the count's shouts to his archers. A

few arrows cut the air about him, but then Lydia and

Naitachal were retaliating, fending off attack.

Suddenly the spell-song was done. Kevin sagged,

drained and gasping for breath, only Naitachal's firm

grip on his arm keeping him from falling as he stared,

as they all stared....

TTie silence that followed was the worse thing Kevin

had ever heard — because nothing at all happened to

Cariotta.

Itfailed after all. The spell failed.

All at once Kevin was too weary to care. He stood

passively waiting to die, either from sorcery or the

spell's own backlash. Dimly, he heard Cariotta's scorn-

ful laugh....

But then diat laugh went wrong, too shriB, too high

in pitch! Kevin came back to himself with a jolt, shout-

ing, "Look! Dear Powers, look!"

Despite all her frantically shrieked-out spells, Carlot-

ta was shrinking. Within moments, though she still

struggled to ding to Charma's form, she had shrunk to

the size and shape of a fairy.

Stunned silence fell, through which Count Volmar's

voice cut like a whip. "Guards'" Pointing up at the bell

tower, he shouted, "Those foul sorcerers have attacked

my niece! Stop them!"

"Have to admire his presence of mind," Naitachal

muttered.

But Berak and his troupe were ready. As the guards

rushed forward, the White Elves swung tent poles like

quarterstaffs across unprotected shins. The first rush

of men went hurtling to the ground, and the next wave

fell over them.

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 261

"Come onl" Lydia yelled. "Let's get out ofhere while

we can!"

The three of them scrambled down the rope, Kevin

not even stopping to worry about his hands, and set off

across the crowded courtyard at a dead run, people

squealing and scrabbling away from the "foul

sorcerers."

We're gomg to make it, we're really going to—

"Oh hell," Lydia murmured. "Well, we gave it our

best"

A long line of the count's men had broken through

the crowd, standing between the three and safety, eyes

cold, pikes at the ready. Count Volmar strode forward,

pushing his men aside, face so florid with rage a comer

of Kevin's mind wondered if he meant to kill his foes

himself.

-Logic would have insisted there was no way out.

Kevin, still caught in the power of his own music,

wasn't ready to listen to logic. Instead, he did the only

thing he could do:

He sang. He sang with all the force of his newly born

magic of an innocent girl most foully slain, of a sweet

young life that was the price of a man's ambition — of

Charina murdered by her uncle, by the count himself!

The long, gleaming line of pikes swayed as the men

murmured uneasily among themselves.

"Don't listen to him!" Count Volmar blustered. "He's

a — a sorcerer trying to trick you!"

But then one of the guards cried out in shock,

"Look! Look!"

The ghost of Charina, a pale glimmer in the

daylight, was slowly forming, as if called by the song.

But this time there was nothing soft or weak about the

specter.

"Behold the murderer!" Her voice rang out, fierce

as a hawk's cry, echoing in the suddenly still air.

"Behold my uncle who slew me so he might steal a

262 Mercedes Lackey ^Josephs Sherman

throne! My curse upon you, Uncle! I have come for

you — and I shall have my revenge!"

She thrust out her hand as though casting a spear.

Count Volmar gasped, clutching his chest, eyes wild

with sudden agony. For one long moment he stood

helplessly convulsed in pain, trying without breath to

cry out for aid. But before any could move, he

crumpled to the cobblestones and lay srill.

"I am avenged}" the specter shrilled m savage joy, and

vanished in a dazzling flash of light.

By the time Kevin's sight had cleared, one of the

guards was kneeling by Count Volmar's side.

"He — he's dead," the man gasped. "Count Volmar

is dead."

Kevin and Lydia stared at Naitachal. The Dark Elf

shrugged. "Wasn't my doing. I told you Charina came

from warrior stock!"

"Well now, would you look at this?" Lydia mur-

mured.

The guards were all staggering back like men

waking from a foul dream.

"I was right," Kevin said, "Carlotta really did have

them all under her control. Her spell must have Just

about worn off." He stiffened in sudden alarm. "Yes,

but where is she? If she got away — "

"Ha, don't worry about her!" Tich'ki suddenly tit-

tered in his ear.

"But—but she escaped!"

"For what good that'll do her!"

"What—"

Tich'ki pinched his cheek. "Kevin, lad, I may not be

on the best of terms with my fairy kin, but they vnQ, still

heed my messages. I sent out a spell-call to them, to all

of them. Every hill, every dun, every fairy cairn is dosed

to Carlotta. No one will shelter her, none give her aid.

She is powerless, bound in fairy shape forever — and

forever shall be in exile!"

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 263

"Uh, that's all well and good," one of the guards said

hesitantly. "And we're not exactly sorry to see the end

of Count Volmar, either, the murdering traitor. We're

loyal to King Amber, we are!"

"We know that," Kevin said reassuringly.

"But... well... what do we do now? I mean, who's

in charge and — "He seemed to notice Lydia's warrior

garb for the first time. "Lady, you're the dosest thing

we've got to a commander right now. Will you accept

our surrender?'*

Lydia straightened, despite her gaudy, dyed hair

looking every inch the military figure. "I will, indeed,

and hold your trust in safety till King Amber does ap-

point a new overlord."

But then she whispered to Kevin, "How's that?

Sound properly high and noble?"

He almost spoiled the whole thing by bursting into

helpless laughter. "Oh, it — it does, indeed!"

"This is all well and good," Naitachal murmured.

"But what happens now?"

"We get the crowd out of here, for one thing," Lydia

said, and snapped out commands to the guards, who,

only too glad to obey someone, began to make order.

"And someone has to take care of Count Volmar's

body," Kevin added.

"That, I shall do," a precise voice said.

"D'Krikas!"

The seneschal bowed as best an Arachnia could. "I

let myself refuse to see what was truly happening. I

stained my own honor by sheer blindness. You have

deansed that honor, and won my gratitude."

"Uh... yes," Kevin said uncertainly. "But— "

Ablare of trumpets cut into his words. Acolumn of

horsemen came riding into the courtyard beneath

King Amber's gold and crimson banner.

"Well, what do you know?" Lydia said drily. "Looks

like the cavalry has arrived."

264 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Sherman

The Great Hall was crowded with royal guards,

casde folk — and of course, Berak's troupe, all wide-

eyed with excitement. At the High Table, Kevin sat

with the captain of the royal troop, a strong-faced,

fierce-eyed man who explained:

"... and so, when my royal master received your

message, he knew no man could reach this casde by

normal means. The court wizards, working all as one.

cast a spell to transport us, men and horses, here as

swiftly as they could."

"They transported someone else," a familiar voice

added.

Kevin sprang to his feet so suddenly his chair over-

turned with a crash. "Master Aidan!"

He raced to the Bard's side, then staggered to a stop,

staring. This was still plainly Master Aidan — but he was

now a man of middle years, his hair and beard only

slighdy streaked with gray. "Itworked/'Kevinbreadied.

"Casting the spell really did restore your years."

"It did."

Kevin couldn't stand on ceremony a moment longer.

He caught the Bard in a fierce hug. Master Aidan

chuckled. "Lad, lad, you're cracking my ribs!"

"Oh! S-sorry! But Berak told me you were ill. How

do you feel?"

"Ah, Kevin." Master Aidan touched Kevin's cheek

tenderly. "Amazingly well, now. When I sent you to

retrieve the spell," he added with a laugh, "I never

expected you to be the one to cast it! And you cast it so

successfully, my young Bard."

"Wh-what did you — what — "

"I called you Bard, Kevin, and Bard you most

assuredly are."

"He's more than that," the captain of the royal

guards called out. "If you would. Bard Kevin?"

Bard Kevin! Struggling not to grin like an idiot,

CASTLE OF DECEPTION 265

Kevin returned to his place at the High Table. The cap-

tain continued:

"My royal master suspected that even with the spell

of magical transport, we might well arrive after dungs

were... ah... settled, one way or another. And since

you have proven yourself a loyal subject of the Crown,

a most brave and worthy subject from all we've been

told, I have orders from the King himself, may the gods

favor him."

"Want to cut through all the courtly talk?" Lydia

asked. "Kevin's brave, all right, and worthy as they

come. Get on with it, man!"

To Kevin's surprise, the captain grinned. "Anydiing to

oblige a lovely lady," he said so urbanely diat Lydia actually

looked flustered. "Of course. Bard Kevin," the captain

continued, "you'll have to go to the royal palace to get this

all done properly, but King Amber, in gratitude for service

rendered, hereby cedes to you (he rank and all the lands

and honors pertaining to the late traitor, Volmar"

Kevin stared. "Wh-what are you saying?"

"He's saying that you're a count now, kid!" Lydia

told him. "Looks like this castle really is going to be

your home."

"But what about you?"

"Oh, I guess I'll just go on travelling." But a hint of

loneliness was in her voice.

"The hell you will!" Kevin exploded. "Look you, I'm

going to need someone I can trust to oversee the casde

guards. What do you say, Lydia: do you want to be my

commander-in-chief?"

She broke into a slow, happy grin. "Sure, kid!

Someone's got to keep an eye on you."

"And I, Bard Kevin," D'Krikas added, "will serve you as

well." The being paused uneasily." If you will have me."

"I can't see myself running a casde without you."

"Oh, I shall have help." Humor glinted in D'Krikas'

great eyes.

266 Mercedes Lackey ^Josepha Shenmn

"He means me!" Tich'ki piped up.

"Exactly." D'Krikas gave a short chitter, almost a

chuckle. "I was fooled once by a count who feigned

nobility and by you — a natural noble who feigned

commonness. With this little one by my side, I shall not

dare slip into complacency again."

Kevin laughed. "Agreed!"

"But what about Naitachal?" Lydia wondered.

Kevin glanced down the cable to where the Dark Elf

and Master Aidan were deep in discussion. The young

Bard could have sworn he heard Naitachal murmur,

"But I won't fetch your laundry. I'm a bit too old to be

an errand boy." And surely Master Aidan was chuck-

ling and agreeing?

"Naitachal?" Kevin called, and the Dark Elf looked

up. And for the first time since the young Bard had

known him, true, peaceful joy shone in his blue eyes.

"Kevin, Master Aidan and I have come to an agree-

ment I am going offwith him to nice, tranquil Bracklin

— as his apprentice. I shall take your advice, my friend,

and study to become a Bard." His smile was a beautiful

thing. "I've had quite enough of Death," Naitachal

said. "I want to try the magic of Life for a change."

Kevin smiled in return. "And may you enjoy it, my

friend."

"That's that," Tich'ki said in satisfaction. "All the

loose ends are nicely tied up. All right, everyone,

enough talk. We've some heavy celebrating to do!"

THE END