'And likely no more craft guilds. You have already killed two of their most skilled workers for minor errors that could have been corrected had you given them the chance to do so.'
'They were incompetent idiots.'
'Because of your lapse it could take decades of training before the next generation comes of age in the expertise required. I remind you that this is not your grand and glorious Oerth with an infinite number of replacements for the casualties of your temper.'
'You can spare yourself the effort; I am only too well aware of the limitations of this miserable land.'
'Excellent. For a mind such as yours, it should not be much of a challenge to work within those limits. When I get back I will deal with the guilds as before.'
'You could be gone for months!'
'Or a single night. I'm sure you can find entertainment enough in my library for that time.'
'Entertainment!' he snarled, for he had nothing but disdain for anything smacking of recreation or pleasure. A pity, that, for indulging in some form of recreation might put him in a better humor. However, he fell silent, no doubt thinking of the idea I had raised in him. He could be wonderfully predictable.
Certainly he'd want time to comb through my library again, but while I was away he would probably use the opportunity to avail himself of the chance to go through my now not-so-private journal. I had faithfully kept up making regular entries in it-relegating my true thoughts and observations in another tome which I hid where even he could not find it-but omitting any reference to my discovery of his secret. The pages in this now false journal contained occasional mentions of my curiosity over his reluctance to learn new spells, though not too many, only as would be normal and natural to any given situation. In essence I simply imitated my previous queries, along with the smug notation of a willing patience to wait until the time came for the facts to reveal themselves to my inquisitive mind.
How that would amuse him. It certainly amused me. Now.
'You are still needed here to execute certain important castings,' he said in a somewhat more composed tone. Of course, he could not appear to be too eager to see me gone.
'No doubt the boredom of the minor spell work makes it less alluring to you,' I said. 'But I recall when I had a turn at it last time that you were less than pleased with the results, so you would be wise not to shirk such details. If you looked after them personally then you'll have only yourself to blame when the next experiment goes wrong.'
His red eyes glowed all the hotter for his obvious anger, yet the late summer air in my study went icy cold. Our most recent attempt to escape last solstice had been a miserable disappointment, and he'd decided that the fault was mine. He had no real proof on which to base this belief; it was due more to his frustration than anything else.
'We have months yet to prepare for the next try,' I continued, 'but what I must do now cannot wait.'
He snorted in contempt. 'If you have not found her by now, you never will.'
Again I ignored him. When he was reduced to this level of baiting, I knew I was in the right. He could not wait to get rid of me.
By now he'd learned of how I had lost my Tatyana and about my search to find her again, all the while pretending that it was news to him. Over the course of our talks together I had allowed him to worm the story out of me. My purpose was to reinforce what he'd already read in my journals and to let him know the importance of my occasional absences. He knew that I was ever on the lookout for her return, something he always reacted to with boundless scorn.
Because of his nature, Azalin was bereft of any tender emotion. He could no longer feel love or appreciate a physical pleasure that was not an illusion, making it impossible for him to understand the depth of my own feelings toward that sweet girl. Keeping to my pretense of ignorance, I simply continued blindly on in my quest as I would were he a normal man. It was a risk that this would someday cause him to lose patience with me and give open challenge, but I was willing to take it. So long as Azalin thought himself in the position of superior knowledge about the contents of my journals and still needed me to do the spells he could not cast, he would continue to hold himself back.
During this particular day a Vistana messenger had come to the castle with news of a young woman resembling Tatyana who resided in a village by the southern border not twenty five miles distant. As it was all the way on the other side of Mount Ghakis as well as beyond a spur of Mount Sawtooth, I had a considerable journey ahead of me this night. It had also taken the message several days to reach me, so I dared not tarry longer than necessary lest some misfortune befall her.
It was about the right time for Tatyana's reappearance. Nothing would prevent me from seeking her out, not even if Azalin planned an escape attempt this very night and certainly not for such routine spells as he had in mind. He was only testing to see how much influence he could exert over me. Only as much as I allowed him. And when it came to Tatyana, he had no influence at all.
I had one other investigation to make as well. My daylight rest, normally quite tranquil, had been disturbed by some sort of dream, though that was not quite the word for it. It was more of a feeling, a sudden awareness of an intelligence intruding upon my dozing mind, like hearing someone knocking at a distant door and then entering before I could respond to it. Upon awakening I thought it might have been Azalin but discounted him.
The feeling had a plurality to it and was not all that powerful.
I realized that there was a direction to it as I mulled things over while getting ready to depart. Both the rumor and the 'knocking' seemed to come from the same direction. Both would get my full attention.
I swept to the walkway, lifted my arms high, and took to the heavy air without a single backward glance.
The village of Hoessla was part of the loose curve of mining communities that dotted the foothills of Mount Sawtooth on the southern border of Barovia, beginning with Immol in the east and ending at Cuzau in the west. Over the years the peasants, under the direction of the local boyars, patiently tunneled into Sawtooth's flanks, drawing forth iron, copper, tin, and more rarely, gold and precious stones.
It took me most of the short summer night to reach Hoessla, which was hardly a mile from the Misty border. Because of the commerce, there were several hostels to serve the merchants and their trains. Going on the information provided by the Vistana I located the largest, the Pick and Ladder Inn, made a discreet entry into its cellars, and spent the day hidden from the sun in the rafters there. When night finally came, I flew out again to resume man-form in a shadow just inside the front gates of the courtyard.
The young fellow whose job was to lock things up for the night was no match for my influence, and he not only forgot all about my startling appearance from the growing darkness, but also the nourishing contribution he made to my well-being. I left him to sleep off his damage in an empty stable stall, displeasing the animals with my presence, but was in and out with the body before they could make enough row to cause notice.
The inn itself was a vast (J-shaped structure. Soft, golden light shone through the futile protection of iron- barred windows, indicating business was excellent tonight. I crossed the courtyard to the sound of fiddle, fife, drum, and some kind of bagpipe. It was Vistani music. Perhaps my informant had been part of the hired entertainment. I pulled open the door.
Doubtless the people inside were expecting the familiar face of the young man, not the figure of a tall, formidable stranger wrapped in a concealing black cloak. The music faltered, the buzz of talk dying as ripples of awareness spread from those nearest the door to the furthest corners of the room. I let my cloak drop open, to reveal well cut, but ordinary clothing, the style identifying me as nobility. The innkeeper, a short, stout man apparently arrested in mid-word to one of his customers by my entry, broke away altogether and hastened toward me, an uncertain expression on his red face.
'Welcome to you, m'lord. How may I be of service?'
I ordered a seat in the common room, ostensibly to listen to the music. The Vistani musicians stared at me, but unlike the rest of the people obviously knew why I was here if they dispatched one of their own to apprise me of the news of Tatyana. The keeper hastened to set a table for me and brought a glass of his best wine.
'Does your lordship desire anything to eat?'
'I've already dined, thank you.'
There were some two dozen in the room watching with open curiosity and suspicion. Any stranger coming in
