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e able to find the lector's secretary without having to answer wearisome questions from the lector's guards。
The candle in its wooden holder threw Isgrimnur's shadow high against the walls of the great entrance hall。 As the sounds of approaching discovery grew； he wracked his brain for the proper exit from the chamber。 He chose the archway that seemed likeliest。
A short distance past the second turning of the hallway； he found himself in a wide gallery。 A robed figure lay sprawled on the floor amid a tangle of draperies； beneath the unperturbed stare of several armed guards。
Are they statues； then？ he wondered。 But； damn me； statuary never looked like that。 See； that one there is leaning as though he were whispering to the other。 He stared up at the unseeing eyes that gleamed within the helms and felt his skin crawling。 Aedon save us。 Black sorcery； that's what it is。
To his despair； he recognized the body on the floor the moment he turned it over。 Dinivan's face seemed bluish； even by the dim candlelight。 Thin stripes of blood had run forward from his ears； drying on his cheek like red tears。 His body felt like a sack of broken twigs。
〃Elysia； Mother of God； what's happened here？〃 the duke groaned aloud。
Dinivan's eyes fluttered open； startling Isgimnur so that he almost let the priest's head fall back against the tiles。 Dinivan's gaze wandered for a moment before fixing on him。 It might have been the candle Isgrimnur awkwardly held； but the priest's eyes seemed to burn with a strange spark。 Whatever the case； Isgrimnur knew it was a spark that would not last long。
〃Lector 。。。〃 Dinivan breathed。 Isgrimnur leaned closer。 〃Look。。。 to。。。 lector。〃
〃Dinivan； it's me；〃 he said。 〃Duke Isgrimnur。 I've e looking for Miriamele。〃
〃Lector；〃 the priest said stubbornly； his bloodied lips struggling to form the word。 Isgrimnur sat up。
〃Very well。〃 He looked helplessly for something to cushion the priest's wounded head； but could find nothing。 He let Dinivan down； then rose and walked to the end of the hallway。 There was little doubt which room was the lector's…the door lay in great shards； and even the marble around the door…frame was scorched and crumbled。 There was even less doubt about Lector Ranessm's fate。 Isgrimnur took one look around the ruined chamber； then turned and retreated hurriedly into the corridor。 Blood； had been smeared across the walls as if by a huge brush。 The mangled forms of Mother Church's leader and his young servant were barely recognizable as human： their corpses had been spared no indignities。 Even Isgrimnur's old soldier's heart quailed at the sight of so much blood。
Flames were flickenng in the far archway when the duke returned； but he steeled himself to ignore them for a moment。 Time for thought of escape later。 He took Dinivan's cold hand。
〃The lector is dead。 Can you help me find Princess Miriamele？〃
The priest breathed raggedly for a moment。 The light in his eyes was fading。 〃She's。。。 here；〃 he said slowly。 〃Called。。。 Malachias。 Ask room…warden。〃 He gasped for air。 〃Take her 。。。 to 。。。 Kwanitupul 。 。to Pelippa's Bowl。 Tiamak is 。。。 there。〃
Isgrimnur's eyes filled with tears。 This man should be dead。 There could be nothing keeping him alive but sheer will。 〃I'll find her；〃 he said。 〃I'll keep her safe。〃
Dinivan suddenly seemed to recognize him。 〃Tell Josua；〃 he panted 〃I fear。。。 false messengers。〃
〃What does that mean？〃 Isgrimnur asked； but Dinivan was silent； his free hand crawling across his chest like a dying spider； fumbling hopelessly at the neck of his robe。 Isgrimnur gently pulled out Dinivan's Holy Tree and laid it on his chest； but the priest shook his head feebly； trying once more to reach inside his robe。 Isgrimnur lifted out a golden scroll and quill pendant on a chain。 The catch broke as he held it； the chain spilled out into the damp hair at Dinivan's neck like a tiny； gleaming snake。
〃Give。。。 Tiamak；〃 Dinivan rasped。 Isgrimnur could barely hear him over the clamor of approaching voices and the crackle of flames in the corridor beyond。 The duke slipped it into the pocket of his monk's robe； then looked up； startled by a sudden movement nearby。 One of the immobile guards； illuminated by pulsing fireglow； was swaying in place。 A moment later he fell forward with a crash； his helmet skittering across the tiles。 The toppled soldier groaned。
When Isgrimnur looked down again； the light had fled Dinivan's eyes。
16
The Unhomed
THE DARKNESS in the abbey was plete； the silence marred only by Simon's ragged breath。 Then Skodi spoke again； her voice no longer whisperingly sweet。
〃Stand up。〃
Some force seemed to tug at him； a pressure delicate as a cobweb but strong as iron。 His muscles flexed against his will； but he resisted。 A short time before he had struggled to rise…now； he strained to lie still。
〃Why do you fight me？〃 Skodi asked petulantly。 Her chilly hand brushed across his chest and down onto the quivering skin of his stomach。 He flinched； and control of his limbs slipped away as the girl's will closed on him like a fist。 A forceful but intangible pull brought him to his feet。 He swayed in the darkness； unable to find his balance。 〃We will give them the sword；' Skodi crooned； 〃the black sword…oh； we will get such lovely presents。。。〃
〃Where。。。 are。。。 my friends？〃 Simon croaked。
〃Hush； silly。 Go out to the yard。 〃
He stumbled helplessly through the darkened room； barking his thins on hidden obstacles； lurching like a clumsily manipulated puppet。
〃Here；' Skodi said。 The abbey's front door swung open on grating hinges； filling the room with baleful reddish light。 She stood in the doorway； pale hair fluttering in the swirling wind。 〃e； now； Simon。 What a night this is！ A wild night。〃
The bonfire in the dooryard blazed even higher than it had when the travelers arrived； a beacon ot flame that reached the height of the sloping roof and threw the abbey's cracked walls into red relief。 Skodi's children； the young and old alike； were feeding all manner of strange objects into the fire： broken chairs and other bits of ruined furniture； and deadwood from the surrounding forest that burned with a ceaseless hiss of steam。 In fact； the bonfire's eager wardens seemed to be throwing everything they could find into the blaze； without regard for suitability…rocks and animal bones； cracked pottery； and shards of colored glass from the abbey's decaying windows。 As the flames roared and leaped in the surging wind； the children's eyes caught the light； glowing like the yellow orbs of foxes。
Simon tottered out onto the snowy courtyard with Skodi following close behind。 A keening howl lanced through the night； a wretched； lonely sound。 Slow as a sunning tortoise； Simon swiveled his head toward the green…eyed shape crouched atop the hill that overlooked the clearing。 Simon felt an instant of hope as it lifted its muzzle and moaned again。
〃Qantaqa！〃 he cried； the name fell strangely from his stiff jaws and slack lips。 The wolf came no closer than the hill…crest。 She howled once more； a cry of fear and frustration as clear as if it had been spoken with a