More men ran past. 'The whole floor's ablaze!' someone shouted.
It was a fire. Shayna swallowed and went to her wardrobe. She'd need boots, and her jewel-coffer, and-
She swung the wardrobe door wide, and stared into the eyes of her grandmother, Pheirauze. But those familiar eyes were looking at her out of a man's face!
'Come,' said a voice that was almost her grandmother's. A firm hand took hold of hers.
'Yes,' Shayna said quietly, not even remembering to whimper.
The man with her grandmother's eyes thrust aside her best gowns as if they were rags, and led her to a dark place at the back of her wardrobe-and through it, into blackness beyond. The young Lady Summerstar scarcely knew when he slid a panel closed behind them, and drew her on down a narrow, damp passage that led straight into the Haunted Tower…
So it was that when frantic chambermaids led two Purple Dragons into the bedchamber to take the flower of the Summerstars to safety, they found her gone from her bed, with no clothes taken and no sign of where she could have gone. The bed was simply-empty. One of the maids shrieked and ran from the room, and another dissolved in sobs, but the two armsmen poked and peered all around the chamber, swearing horribly.
… The man whose face was slowly changing led the Lady Shayna on into darkness, away from the tumult. The sharp smell faded behind them, and the noise with it, as they went. The floor was cold under Shayna's bare feet, and the air chilled her through the thin silk and openwork lace panels of her nightgown. It seemed as if a mist lay on her thoughts, It was a warm, comforting mist, which did not lift even when they came to a chamber of real, luminous fog.
With a hunger she'd seen on other mens' faces before, the man turned to look her up and down. Somehow, this place of eerie, empty darkness was a haven of comfort as long as she stared into those dark eyes. . eyes that seemed to hold two dancing red flames.
The fiery gaze held her bound-and a voice cut like a knife through her head:
I AM YOUR DARK MASTER. ADDRESS ME THUS.
'Y-Yes,' she said, lips trembling. She was suddenly more afraid than she had ever been in her life. As she stared into those dark, gloating eyes, a word swam unbidden into her mind: thrall. Thrall…
YES?
Yes Dark Master, she said in her mind.
He smiled and nodded.
Shayna found herself smiling and nodding too. Somehow the title fit the figure standing in the darkness before her.
Then a door in her mind opened. Through it tumbled images, phrases, and iron-hard feelings that burned her and flayed her, surging through her and battering down any self-will she'd managed to cling to.
Grandmare Pheirauze?
ALWAYS, CHILD. I SHALL BE HERE, WATCHING OVER YOU ALWAYS.
[Fear.] Must you?
OF COURSE. WE HAVE WORK TO DO, YOU AND I.
[Confusion.] Who are you, really-changing man?
YOUR MASTER. PHEIRAUZE LIVES IN ME. WE HAVE WORK BEFORE US-SHE, I, AND YOU: WE MUST OVERCOME THE WOMAN WHO SERVES MYSTRA.
The Lady Storm?
YES. YOU MUST HELP LURE HER TO ME.
Why do you need her? You have me!
I MUST HAVE HER POWER, SHAYNA. POWER YOU LACK.
[Disappointment.] [Fear.] If I bring you Storm, will you still want me?
OF COURSE. I SHALL ALWAYS WANT YOU. JUST AS YOU SHALL COME TO WANT-AND NEED-ME. BUT FOR NOW, OBEY: COME WITH ME.
The eyes of flame turned away from her. Shayna trembled, and found herself trotting along in the wake of her Dark Master. He grew long, wriggling arms like eels and hurried along passages she'd never seen, ways in her own home that she did not know.
After a long but swift journey, the changing man abruptly halted, turned, and fixed his fiery eyes on hers.
DO YOU WANT TO SERVE ME?
Yes. Oh, yes, she told him, nodding frantically despite the silent scream that rose somewhere inside her.
THEN OBEY. A tentacle snatched something down from a high ledge-something cold and sharp: a dagger. Its hilt slapped into her palm, hard and reassuringly heavy.
Shayna held it, scarcely daring to breathe. Another tentacle did something, and the wall ahead rolled open. Flickering torchlight flooded into the dark passage. The Dark Master stepped into the light and was gone.
COME TO THE DOOR. His command rolled through her.
Shayna did so, gliding forward on bare feet. The blade trembled in her hands and excitement rose in her breast. The Dark Master faced her, but between them was the back of a guard in chain mail. His sword was raised, and he was in a wary stance. His attention was fixed on the man who had something that looked like glistening eels hanging from his shoulders. The master did not look at Shayna.
STRIKE AT MY COMMAND. STRIKE NOW.
A sudden image in her mind showed her just how.
YesyesNOW!
The knife flashed. Shayna struck swiftly. She drew the blade firmly across the unseen throat. A sudden splash of hot blood over her hands.
The man turned and gurgled. His elbow crashed into her ribs. Trying to ignore the pain, she stepped back, let the guard fall, and watched him die.
His eyes stared up at hers in horrified recognition. The light in them faded, and they rolled up to stare forever.
Her master smiled at her. To her horror, Shayna found herself smiling back. He gestured for her to let the dagger fall. She did so, standing stock-still as his tentacles became long, glistening tongues that lapped and licked every spot of blood from her hands and arms.
The smile broadened. The eyes became those of Pheirauze Summerstar once more.
AN EASY THING, WHEN I BID IT. BUT YOU MUST HAVE MORE PRACTICE. GO NOW TO THE STEWARD, ILGRETH DRIMMER.
Shayna stiffened. That fussy old fart?
YOU WILL DO AS I BID. HEARKEN…
The lady who was now head of House Summerstar grew pale as the voice only she could hear continued. This was a test. She'd do it willingly or as an automaton under iron control, but carry it out one way or the other. Slowly, uncertainly, she gave him a smile.
The guardcaptain had curtly ordered him to keep to his room until released to do otherwise, and Ilgreth Drimmer was a man who followed orders. The smoke grew thicker, and he could hear distant coughing and cursing. He dared not do more than stick his head out into the hallway to see what might be happening.
There was, of course, nothing to be seen. The same nothing he'd looked at a score or more times already. He paced back and forth before the open door of his room, worrying about what might be lost if the fire spread-things he could be, nay, should be snatching up and carrying out to safety even now! He was going to have to…
For perhaps the twentieth time, he strode determinedly to the doorway to begin the vital work only he knew how to do. He might not be able to fight fires, but no Purple Dragon was going to tell…
'Ilgreth?'
He came to an abrupt, staring halt. He opened and closed his mouth several times, finding it did not work no matter what position he put it in.
Shayna Summerstar was leaning against the door frame, a thin silk nightgown clinging to her in several places. She was smiling at him in a way that Ilgreth had never dreamed he'd see from her-or any other beautiful lass of her age.
