subtlety and deception, and poor Alagar paid for your rashness in not thinking of that. As additional folly, you alerted the overman.'
'He is no wizard, though,' the Baron of Therin said. 'He won't know how to defend himself against us. Karag made a natural mistake in thinking that three wizards could handle him, magic sword or no.'
'I do not say that they underestimated the overman, but that they underestimated the sword,' Shandiph replied. 'We need to use subtler methods, methods that the sword cannot counter directly.'
'What did you have in mind?' Chalkara asked.
Shandiph replied by crossing to the guidebook, opening it, and asking, 'Are there magicks in this chamber that can kill a foe from afar?'
The book turned to a page very near the front, which said, in large, ornate runes, simply, 'YES'
'What are the dozen most effective that can be used without great preparation, how do they work, and where can they be found?'
Pages turned, revealing a list.
'Kala, ready your scrying glass, so that we can see what happens.'
'I don't have my glass; it was left in Kholis.'
Disconcerted, Shandiph admitted, 'I hadn't thought of that.'
'There must be a scrying glass here somewhere,' Chalkara said. 'Ask the book.'
A glass was found and given to Kala; she wandered several yards down the room and found a suitable spot to work in.
The magical light Shandiph had conjured was beginning to fade, which suited her well; it was easier to use a glass in dim light. She attempted to summon up Garth's image, and found it impossible. The sword's power still blocked her.
She said as much to the others, who had gathered together most of the devices and spell books the guidebook had listed as necessary for the dozen death-spells.
'I forgot about that entirely,' Shandiph said. 'I suppose we'll just have to try these, and then go there and see.'
'If he resists other magic as well as he resists a scrying spell, I think we had best go prepared for battle.'
'I fear you're right,' Shandiph agreed. 'Let me ask the book what other weapons we might take.'
'I already asked that,' Karag said. He was beginning to regain his composure. 'We took three of the four most powerful-the Great Staff of Power, the Sword of Koros, and something the book called the Blood-Sword of Hishan of Darbul. The book said it was the third most powerful weapon here, after the Staff and the Ring of P'hul, but the Sword of Bheleu shattered it instantly.'
There was a glum silence in response to this news.
After a pause, Shandiph asked, 'Book, what would you recommend we use against the Sword of Bheleu?'
The page revealed bore a single sentence, which Chalkara read aloud over Shandiph's shoulder. 'There is no power in the Council's possession that can withstand the Sword of Bheleu.'
'You say there is nothing we can do?'
With a thump, pages turned back to reveal the single ornate word.
'Is there no power that can defeat the wielder of the sword?' Chalkara asked.
'There are two; the Book of Silence and the King in Yellow,' Shandiph read.
'Who is the King in Yellow?' Thetheru asked.
A single page turned, and Shandiph said, 'I knew this already. It says, `the immortal high priest of Death'.'
'Where can we find him?' Chalkara asked.
No pages turned, but Shandiph replied, 'We don't want to find him; he would be worse than the overman. He is the agent of Death as Garth is the agent of Bheleu.'
'Then what of the Book of Silence?' called someone from the back of the little crowd.
'Do you know why it's called the Book of Silence?' Miloshir replied. 'To speak aloud a single word written therein will kill anyone but its rightful owner.'
There was a somber silence. Herina spoke up at last. 'We could draw lots, and the loser would use the Book...'
'No, it won't work. The loser would die before completing the spell. It would take one of us for each word of the spell, and I have no idea how long the incantation we want might be.'
'Can we find the rightful owner and ask his aid?'
'The Book belongs to the King in Yellow.'
'It would seem we are defeated before we have begun,' Derelind said.
'We must try, at the very least,' Veyel replied.
'We must and we will. We will try each of these twelve spells the book led us to. It may be that the book is not infallible and has overestimated the power of the sword; it may be that Garth is not yet fully attuned to the sword's power. We still have a chance.'
'Attuned?' Karag snorted. 'The overman can summon storms from a clear sky and steer the lightning! How much more control over the sword's magic can he possess?'
'Much more, Karag. The sword's power is virtually limitless.'
Kubal shuddered at that.
The discussion broke down after that into several groups of two or three, each working on one or two of the long-range spells. One by one, the death-spells were worked, amid strange chants, evil-smelling smoke, eerie lights, and other by-products of magic. The golden light vanished completely, and lanterns were found to replace it. Several of the councilors had become hungry, and Deriam used the book to locate a bottomless purse that could be made to produce an unlimited supply of biscuits and cakes and a wine flask that never ran dry.
'This is a very useful thing,' he remarked as he gulped down the red wine, 'though it's hardly a great vintage. I wonder why it was sealed away here?'
Shandiph was watching the last death-spell being worked, which involved an elaborate dance with a very sharp knife. Chalkara was the dancer. He answered absentmindedly, 'Someone must have thought it was dangerous.'
'How could a wine flask be dangerous?'
'Oh, easily enough, I think.'
'How?'
'You could drown someone, I suppose,' Amarda the Blood-Drinker suggested, 'or flood out a place.' She was nursing cuts on her palms from the spell she had helped with and licking off the blood with disconcerting relish. Deriam glanced at her, then quickly looked away again.
'I hadn't thought of that,' he admitted.
At that moment the Baron of Therin distracted Shandiph from the dance. 'I have news from Kholis,' he said.
The Chairman turned and asked, 'What is it?'
'An embassy from Skelleth has arrived and is at this moment speaking with the High King; my other self has just entered the audience chamber to hear what they have to say.'
'What are they saying?'
Dor paused for a moment, as if listening, then answered, 'They say that Skelleth has been burned and many of its people slain as a result of the dead Baron's madness. They say that a peaceful trade mission of overmen was attacked by the Baron's guards without cause, and the ensuing battle ended with the guardsmen and the Baron all dead, and many others as well.'
'That is not what the Seer of Weideth said had happened.'
Dor shrugged. 'The ambassador is undoubtedly lying. Now he is explaining that the overmen stayed to aid in the rebuilding, and that a man named Saram, once a lieutenant in the Baron's guard, organized the survivors.'
Shandiph glanced at where Chalkara was whirling, her knife glinting in the lantern light, and then looked about 'Where is the Seer?'
