'If people wish me to be a hnonster, then that is what I will be!' He grabbed the ropes of the bells. 'Beware Nartok,' he shouted. 'For on this day you have created a monster!'
The bells rang in a darkly dissonant cacophony as a storm of ghost-pale birds filled the air.
Two
When King Azalin of Darkon announced a masquerade at the royal castle of Avernus, each of the countesses, dukes, and petty nobles of the grand city of II Aluk waited breathlessly to learn whether he or she had been invited. Soon after the announcement, mysteriously hooded messengers began appearing at the doors of hilltop mansions and fashionable city redstones to deliver the coveted black and gold invitations to the lucky, while the less fortunate looked on with no small amount of envy. The invitations themselves were exquisite and wonderful things, which strangely and somewhat startlingly vanished in a puff of cool flame after being delivered, leaving only a small disk of thick gold foil, engraved with the Fiery Eye that was Azalin's personal signet. The precious gold tokens were the only means of admittance to what would certainly be the year's most talked-about social event.
Finally, the much-anticipated occasion arrived. As the pale orb of the moon lilted over the turgid waters of the Vuchar Riverrthe favored nobility of II Aluk streamed from the city in gilded carriages and undertook the brief journey to Avernus-an imposing castle that loomed on a rocky hill just south of the capitol. Mo one ever knew what to expect at one of Azalin's masquerades, but it was widely thought that the king was a great wizard, so everybody anticipated something fantastical. One by one the carriages rode the twisting avenue to the castle and were swallowed by the arched gateway. The party had begun.
A woman clad in a gown of emerald-green silk moved with smooth grace through the throng of revelers that Filled the vast ballroom. Her coal-black hair was coiled about her head in an intricate arrangement, and a single, uncommonly large pearl rested gently in the cleft of her bosom, glowing like a tiny moon against the luster of her dark copper skin. With a gloved hand, she held a mask with tilted cat eyes before her face. Behind the false face, her own green-gold eyes glittered with contempt.
The woman was Jadis, and unlike those around her, she was not one of II Aluk's pretentious nobles. She had not come seeking favor from the king, nor entertainment, nor even a fleeting lover. She was Kargat-one of King Azalin's personal spies-and she had come to be assigned her new mission.
Jadis ascended a wide stairway to the promenade that encircled the ballroom. Hundreds of masked lords and ladies danced below in the cavernous chamber, bathed in the crystal-refracted luminescence of countless candles. There was something out of the ordinary about the dancers. They moved in the same complex patterns favored in all of the city's fashionable ballrooms, but Jadis knew this was a dance like none ever witnessed in Il Aluk.
The dancers careened about the red-veined marble floor with wild, jerky movements, like marionettes controlled by a drunken puppeteer. Their heads lolled strangely from side to side as they whirled and spun. The ceaseless smiles plastered to their faces were garish, even grotesque. It was the wine, of course. Dozens of pretty, golden-haired boys moved with fluidity through the throng, bearing trays of goblets filled with the glistening ruby liquid. It was no mundane vintage. The more wine the revelers drank, the more their eyes stared wide, dark, and unseeing behind their masks, as if each were gazing into some secret dream invisible to all the others.
Bored, Jadis turned from the wild dance below, wondering when the summons for her would come. 'Patience, love,' she whispered to herself. She moved along the marble walkway, letting her gloved hand slip sensually over the golden balustrade. Wicked laughter and wordless sounds of pleasure drifted from sheer-curtained alcoves and dim grottos that lined the promenade. Jadis caught interesting glimpses of activity in each as she passed by.
In one of the grottos, nobles lounged on velvet chaises while handsome attendants-their bare, muscular flesh slick with oil-placed crimson fruits into open mouths. The patrons wore heavy-lidded expressions, sated yet strangely hungry, their lips stained scarlet from the dark juices of the fruit. Within another alcove, men and women clad only in the skins of animals crawled about on all fours, barking, howling, and purring as though they were beasts.
Without warning, an obese man wearing a ridiculous mask concocted of feathers and jewels rushed from a torchlit grotto and held something out toward Jadis.
'You simply must try this,' the nobleman said in a gasping voice. 'I have never tasted anything so delicious in all my life.'
Jadis arched a dark eyebrow. In the man's hands was a raw, quivering heart. His chin dripped blood. She gazed past him into the grotto and saw that a score of other revelers were feasting in delight upon a white unicorn they had killed with their bare hands. Now they tore meat off the carcass with their teeth, their silken gowns and rich velvet coats soaked with blood.
'No, it's all yours. Enjoy yourself,' Jadis crooned indulgently.
'Thank you, my lady,' the man whispered tremblingly. 'I will.' He hurried back to the gory feast.
As Jadis watched, a young nobleman wrenched the unicorn's spiral horn from its head. The horn began to glow with pearlescent* radiance. Tendrils of moon-pale light reached outward, spiraiing around the man's body. He threw his head back, trembling as if caught in the throes of deepest pleasure. Back arched, he rose to his toes. The magical radiance from the horn was lifting his body from the ground. Abruptly his trembling turned into violent convulsions. Blood trickled from his ears and mouth. Yet the look of rapture on his face did not lessen. The horn flared brilliantly, then went dim. Like a rag doll, the nobleman collapsed to the floor, stone dead. The horn rolled away. Of course, Jadis thought-only one who is pure of heart should dare touch a unicorn's horn. In moments, several other nobles bent over the fresh corpse to feed.
A low sound of mirth escaped Jadis's throat. Aza- lin was brilliant. The pretentious nobles who had come here this night seeking to curry the king's favor or to hatch plots of intrigue against him would soon forget their subversive intentions as they drowned themselves in the sea of dark pleasures that filled the ballroom. Even after the revel was over, and after the party-goers returned to the city with only dim memories of what had occurred here, they would find themselves filled with strange, longing hungers, the pursuit of which would consume their energies in the year ahead, so that they would have neither time nor will to scheme against the king. Then would come another ball, and the sinister cycle would begin again. With his extraordinary masquerades, Azalin kept the nobility of II Aluk utterly in his thrall.
Then again, as Jadis knew well, the Kargat played its crucial role in the king's perfect domination of Darkon. Few of the ordinary citizens knew of the Kargat, or at least few lived long with such dread knowledge. The secret society of spies and assassins to which Jadis belonged wove itself throughout the entire realm of Darkon, like a vast spider's web in which all threads led back to the center-to the master spider, Azalin himself. The Kargat had plucked Jadis as an orphan child from the streets of II Aluk and raised her to serve the order. Though given no choice in the matter, she did adore her work. There' was nothing she would not do to serve the king.
A boy clad in a coat of golden brocade silently held out a tray of goblets toward Jadis. She took one of the glasses and raised it high.
'To you, my great king.'
She lowered the goblet to her lips, then thought better of it. Not for her the dark rapture that seized the revelers. She poured the wine on the floor.
Jadis turned to find herself facing a broad-shouldered man, his face concealed by a fanciful lion mask. For a moment, she wondered if he had been sent to take her to the Kargat lord for her next mission. But no, the man's eyes were empty and ravenous behind his mask. He was simply another noble caught in the tide of lust that surged through the ballroom.
'Come with me, my lady,' he said hoarsely, gesturing toward an alcove where Jadis glimpsed dozens of writhing, naked forms.
'I think not,' she replied coldly. She stretched a hand before her, like a cat extending its claws, and absently examined her scarlet fingernails.
The man shook his lion's mane of long golden hair. 'But I have never before seen a lady as beautiful as you. I must have you.' He reached out and luxuriantly ran the back of his hand over the smoothness of her throat.
Jadis's eyes glittered. The man's body was strong and attractive beneath his tight-fitting coat and breeches, but she had no time for such diversions. Swiftly, she reached up and grasped the man's wrist, twisting it sharply. He cried out in pain.
