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 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 still.
“I am avenged}” the specter shrilled in 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 murmured.
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 tittered 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 will, still heed my messages. I sent out a spell-call to them, to all of them. Every hill, every dun, every fairy cairn is closed 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!”
“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 closest 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 appoint 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.
