of rusted hinges.
'That is truly all, darkling?' a low voice demanded. 'I have only to place the Soulstone upon the altar to invoke its power?'
'That is truly all,' a wheedling voice replied, raising the hackles on Jadis's back. There was a pause. 'You need me no longer. Will you not release me?'
Laughter rang out on the foul air. 'We shall see, darkling.'
Baron Caidin stepped into the corridor, pulling the iron door securely shut. Jadis froze. Caidin strode past her hiding place. In moments he was gone. The dark air seemed to swirl and coil about the werepan- ther's form. Moments later a woman with coppery skin walked down the corridor, moving gracefully on bare feet. Jadis reached the iron door. She noticed a small opening in the wall low to the ground. Kneeling, she peered through the hole. Her eyes needed no torchlight to make out the squalid chamber beyond.
'Greetings, Velvet-Claw.'
Jadis gasped at the high-pitched voice. 'How do you know that name?' she asked warily.
'I know many things.'
A form that might once have been a man scuttled into view. Jadis curled her lip in revulsion. Filthy tatters of cloth clung damply to skeletal limbs as dark and gray as ashes. His colorless eyes bulged, staring madly, as if he gazed upon some unseen world of nightmares. By the tarnished earring he still wore, she knew him to be a Vistana. Suddenly she remembered Caidin's words. He had referred to this creature as darkling. Jadis had heard of such beings-cast-out Vistani, pariahs of the gypsy clans, whose souls were willingly consumed by evil.
Jadis steeled her will. 'Is that why you're here? Because you know certain things of value to Baron Caidin?' Broken laughter grated against cold stone. 'Of course, Velvet-Claw. Why else? I certainly do not stay here because I like the food.' The cadaverous gypsy snaked out a bony arm and snatched up a mushroom-colored beetle. He popped the insect into his mouth and crunched down with alacrity.
Jadis swallowed her unease. 'I have a bargain for you, darkling. You badly want your freedom, don't you?'
A wary yet intrigued grunt was her only reply.
'Here it is then. I have the power to free you from your ceik But first you must tell me what you and the baron were speaking of just a moment ago.'
A silence ensued. Finally, the darkling spoke. 'I cannot do that, Velvet-Claw. The truth I speak for Caidin is his truth. Your truth is something… different.'
Jadis frowned. She had no time for riddles. 'Then we have no bargain.' She started to move away from the opening.
'Wait!' The gypsy went on in a hissing voice. 'I cannot tell you what words I spoke for the baron. You see, I can barely remember them now that he is gone. That is the nature of the Sight. Yet I could tell you something else… something that would grant you the means to defeat him.'
Jadis had little to lose. 'Done.' After a long pause, the darkling spoke in an eerie, almost chantlike voice; 'You must journey toward the dawning sun, Velvet-Claw. I see… I see the shadowed forest surrounding you. Do not fear- there is no creature here more fearsome than you. Venture onward. Then… ah, yes… then the trees part like a dark curtain. There it looms before you. The broken remnants of faith forgotten. Shattered dwelling of old gods… cursed gods so ancient they forgot their own names long ago. It is… it is a… cathedrair There was a long silence. At last the darkling spoke again. Now his voice seemed hoarse and weary, as if he had just undergone some great exertion. 'That is all the Sight will reveal to me, Velvet-Claw. You must journey to this ancient cathedral. I do not know what you will discover there-only that it will grant you the means to destroy Baron Caidin.'
Jadis's eyes glittered suspiciously. 'Is that it?'
'That is your truth, Velvet-Claw.'
At last she nodded. 'Then the bargain is complete.'
She stretched out a hand, and suddenly sharp claws sprang from each of her fingertips. She slipped one of her talons into the door's rusted lock. It was time to fulfill her end of the deal.
A short while later, the werepanther leapt through the window of her private bedchamber. Onyx fur rippled, and in moments the woman Jadis stood in the cat's place. A strange thrill fluttered in her heart. Somehow, she sensed that the darkling had indeed spoken truthfully to her. Whatever this ancient cathedral was, she was certain she would find something of importance there. Humming to herself in satisfaction, she turned to pick up her gown of green silk from the bed. As she did, she caught a glimpse of her naked body in the silver mirror. A chill spike plunged deep into her heart.
'It cannot be, love,' she whispered to herself in disbelief. 'It cannot.'
She reached out and tentatively touched the livid mark that darkened the flesh beneath her collarbone. It had grown even more, and now, quite clearly, had assumed a distinctly ominous shapethe shape of a skeletal hand.
The darkling cringed in the shadowed mouth of the slimy drainpipe, waiting for twilight to fall. His eyes had grown too used to darkness, and the light of day was painful in its brilliance. At last the burning eye of the sun sank beneath the distant horizon. Chill blue shadows mantled the countryside. The shriveled Vistana crawled from the drainpipe, picking his path down the rocky slope of the tor to the rolling plains below.
Cackling happily, he hobbled across the moor. How wondrous it was to be free again. He wondered where he should go, what he should do. There were so many more relics of darkness he had learned about, so many objects besides the stone and the bell that were capable of wreaking massive strife and woe, and glorious mayhem. He would see them all unearthed from their ancient tombs. That would show the others once and for all how foolish they had been to cast him out. But first, perhaps, he would find some throats. Yes, that was it-some smooth, lovely throats to snap and crush with his long, shriveled hands. That was what just what he needed to revive himself after such long confinement. His mirth bubbling weirdly, he pushed his ravaged body on, into the purple gloaming.
Suddenly the darkling paused. With a gasp he turned around. His pale eyes shone as round as moons in the dimness. 'No,' he croaked. 'No, you cannot be here. I would have seen your coming long ago.'
'That is not so, Accursed One.' Three figures stepped from the cold gloom. 'Your powers have diminished since you were banished from the clan. We blinded your Sight, so that you would not sense our coming.'
The darkling shuddered violently. This could not be happening. He thought he was finally free! 'Varith, Karin, Riandra-please, do not harm me. I will leave this domain, yes? I will go far away. You will never see me again!'
The Vistana women cast back the hoods of their cloaks, revealing three faces-one fresh and young, one full in bloom, one wrinkled by time. Sorrow and pity shone in their wise eyes.
'We cannot allow that, Accursed One. We cannot let you bring your darkness to another land, as you did to our clan. It must end here.'
The darkling spun around, desperately searching for an escape, but the gypsies had surrounded him. He fell to his bony knees. 'I beg you!' he pleaded piteously. 'Let me be! I will try… I will try to live in the Light once more.'
The eldest of the three gypsies clutched her walking staff tightly. 'It is our wish, Accursed One, that you dwell in the Light as well. But it is too late for you to do so in this existence. It is far too late.'
The jeweled rings each gypsy wore began to pulsate-one with leaf-green brilliance, one with dusky- blue radiance, one with midnight-purple darkness. Holding the glowing rings before them, the Vistani closed in.
The darkling's cry of primal agony rent the night. Abruptly it ended, its echo drifting through the rising mist. The three gypsies stepped back, sorrow and pity written across their disparate faces. The three jeweled rings were quiescent once more.
On the ground in their midst lay the darkling. A silver, rune-covered dagger protruded from his sunken chest. His frozen hand still clutched the knife, and his pale eyes stared upward, gazing no longer on nightmares, but simply on emptiness.
'Has he found an end?' Riandra asked in a chantlike voice.
'He has found an end,' young Karin replied firmly.
Ancient Varith knelt and covered the darkling's pale eyes with two dark leaves. Slowly, leaning upon her staff, she rose. 'He is Accursed no longer, but dwells now in the Light.' Tears streamed freely down her wrinkled cheeks. 'Fare thee well, Brinn. Fare thee well, child of Vistani.'
