balls hovered above his outstretched hands. Suddenly each of the spheres of light flashed brilliantly, and in their place three similarly hued doves winged into the air before vanishing in puffs of mist. The onlookers applauded enthusiastically as the harlequin capered about, bowing.
Jadis watched contemptuously. 'Simple entertainments for simple minds, love,' she murmured softly to herself. She gazed down at her long fingernails and wondered what the courtiers would think if they witnessed a real transformation. It was tempting…
From their constant whispering and sideways glances, she knew the nobles of Baron Caidin's court considered her quite the enigma. As anywhere else, here the baron's supercilious nobles were constantly caught up in their petty intrigues and silly scheming, each trying to rise to the top of their meaningless pecking order. Now all were attempting to determine where Jadis fit in. Should they scorn her as an inferior attempting to gain stature at the expense of others? Or should they fawn at her feet to bolster their own position?
Of course, the truth of Jadis's nature went far beyond anything their little minds could possibly dream up. If she were only to whisper the word Kargat, half the courtiers would faint dead away and the others would soil their fancy garments. Not so Baron Caidin. Without doubt, the baron knew that she belonged to King Azalin's secret webwork of spies. It was she herself who had supplied the information to the baron's agent in II Aluk. As a result, Caidin would imagine he had the upper hand in this game. And in his overconfidence he was bound to make mistakes.
While she had more instinct than evidence, Jadis was certain Caidin's plot to usurp the throne from King Azalin was somehow linked to his inquisition. Through seemingly innocent questions and eavesdropped conversations, she had come to the conclusion that Caidin's inquisition was a complete fraud. Villagers were arrested, tortured, and executed haphazardly. No effort was made to uncover any ringleaders or to determine the scope of any overarching plots. That left Jadis with an intriguing question. If there was no treachery in Nartok, why go to such effort to fabricate the illusion that there was?
And what of the tower on the moor? The court was filled with whispers about the strange spire-how it had appeared one night without warning, as if it had sprung from the soil like some dark mushroom. Surely it was no coincidence that the foundation of the mysterious tower had appeared mere days before Azalin learned of Caidin's intent to usurp the throne of Darkon. Yet what was the connection between the tower and the inquisition? Jadis did not know the answer to that question-yet. She made a mental note to herself. The tower was definitely worth investigating. First, however, it was time to pay a visit to some of Caidin's 'guests' in the inquisition chamber below the keep. Who better to answer questions about the baron's false inquisition than the victims imprisoned by it?
Deciding she had spent enough time in the Grand Hall to maintain her front, Jadis departed, ignoring the whispers and surreptitious glances that trailed her. She made her way through winding corridors and down twisting staircases until she reached the dim archway that led to the keep's dungeon. As always, a pair of armed guards stood to either side. She chewed a lip delicately with pearl-white teeth. She hadn't quite decided what to do about the guards. No doubt they would find it odd for a lady to express an interest in touring the dungeon.
So as not to arouse suspicion, she strolled casually past the guarded archway, though not before letting her eyes linger over the guards. Neither was particularly handsome, but both had youth and muscular physiques in their favor.
'Now, now, love.' She whispered an admonishment to herself. 'Let's not mix business with pleasure.'
She smiled seductively at the two young guards, savoring the crimson rising in their cheeks, then continued on. Slipping into an antechamber, she paused to consider her options. She could dispose of the guards simply enough, but that would be a messy solution and would no doubt alert Caidin to her activities. She tapped a cheek thoughtfully.
Then she espied it. High in one wall of the dusty antechamber was a hidden opening. She approached the wall, running a finger over its rough-hewn surface. These stones were darker than those of the chamber's other three walls, and seemingly much older. Like any fortress, Nartok Keep had been built in dozens of stages over several centuries. It was clear this had once been an outside wall. That meant the opening concealed an outdated ventilation shaft. In which case it almost certainly connected with the sewers below the keep-and the dungeon.
The opening was at least a dozen feet off the ground, but that posed no great problem. Making certain no one was around, Jadis shut the door of the antechamber. Slipping out of her silken gown, she hid the garment beneath a pile of rat-gnawed sacks. She shivered in her nakedness, but in moments she would be warm enough.
Jadis shut her eyes and tilted her head back. For a heartbeat she stood as still as a statue. Suddenly her coppery skin began to undulate. Dark fur sprang out on the back of her arms, her legs, her neck, and quickly spread to cover her entire body. As fluidly as if made of clay, her hands and feet lengthened and her limbs grew shorter. Her back stretched sinuously. A tail coiled out behind her, flicking and lashing like a black serpent. Gracefully, she crouched on all fours.
The woman Jadis was gone. In her place was a black werepanther.
Jadis extended her claws and bared canine teeth gleaming like white daggers. It felt good to don her cat form once more. As with so many things, she owed the Kargat for discovering that she had been born with the blood of a werepanther surging through her veins. She would never forget the day an older Kargat, a grizzled wereboar, had helped her undergo her first glorious transformation. She had instantly fallen in love with the grace and power of her panther form, a love that had only deepened over time.
With easy strength, Jadis sprang into the high opening. She padded swiftly down the shaft. The blackness was no barrier to her green-gold eyes. She found herself in a labyrinth of ventilation shafts, many sloping down at odd angles. Guided by her sensitive nose, she followed the scents of damp rot and fungus, traveling deeper below the keep. Finally she leapt from the mouth of a tunnel into a dingy corridor. Moans of agony drifted on the air, along with the rank stench of blood and fear. The dungeon.
Clinging to the shadows, she padded down the passageway. She came to a huge iron door set within a stone archway. The scent of fear was stronger here. Instinct told her that beyond the door lay the inquisition chamber.
Jadis froze at the metallic sound of a lock turning. Her black fur blended seamlessly with the shadows. She watched with werepanther eyes as the iron door swung open. Two men clad in the livery of the keep's guard stepped into the corridor carrying a stretcher. On the stretcher was a young woman, her face a shroud of agony. She was quite obviously dead. Behind the guards came a gaunt man clad in tight- fitting black. Jadis recognized him as the Lord Inquisitor Sirraun.
'Shackle her in the cell with the others,' he ordered the two men. 'We'll execute them all in three days' time.'
The guards, nodded, disappearing down the corridor with their grisly burden. Sirraun locked the door with an iron key, then vanished into the gloom. Jadis waited until the shuffling sound of his footsteps faded before padding from her hiding place. Interest glittered in her eyes. Why had Sirraun ordered a dead body shackled? Stranger still, why behead a corpse? Curious, she approached the door.
Sirraun had locked the portal, but sometimes a talon was better than any key. Jadis's body contorted once more, but this time the transformation stopped halfway. In the dimness she might almost have appeared a normal woman, at least from the waist up. But flickering torchlight illuminated traits that were far from human-black fur, pointed ears, and a sharp-toothed smile. She stretched out a finger, extending a gleaming talon toward the keyhole.
Jadis's flesh was not the only substance capable of transformation. Without warning, the stone arch that surrounded the iron door began to twist and flow, forming itself into the shape of a huge maw. Fangs of rock formed beneath curling basalt lips. The gigantic stone mouth trembled with a deep rumbling sound almost like laughter. With terrible speed the fanged maw snapped shut. Jadis sprang back barely in time to avoid getting chewed to ribbons. Even so, a knife-sharp fang traced a hot line across her leg as she tumbled to the floor. The huge stone mouth opened and closed hungrily several times, teeth gnashing. Hastily, Jadis scrambled away. As she did, the stone mouth undulated, reshaping itself into a mundane-seeming archway once more.
With calculating eyes, Jadis regarded the portal. The enchanted stone mouth was a formidable defense. She was more interested than ever in what lay beyond the door. It had to be important. Bending her supple neck, she licked the wound on her leg with a pink tongue. Her form flowed once more. The lithe shape of a werepanther disappeared into the darkness.
