Unclean

became a hand itself, levitating and seemingly formed of shadow. It bobbed over the top of the floating shield, then streaked at Bareris.

The bard tried to dodge, but the hand grabbed him by the shoulder anyway. Agony stabbed outward from the point of contact to afflict his entire body.

It was the fiercest pain he'd ever experienced, severe enough to blind and paralyze, which was no doubt the object. Evidently still intent on reaching the gate, but looking to finish off his adversary as well, the necromancer simultaneously circled in the appropriate direction and hissed sibilant rhyming phrases.

The pain is in my mind, Bareris insisted to himself, and I can push it out. He struggled to straighten up, turn in the mage's direction, and lift his sword once more. For a heartbeat, it was impossible, and then the bonds of torment constraining him ripped like a sheet of parchment tearing in two.

He spun around. His eyes widening, the necromancer appeared startled, but the floating shield automatically shifted to defend its creator as thoroughly as possible. Bareris poised himself as if he meant to dart to the right then dodged left instead. That fooled the shield and brought him within striking distance of the wizard. He drove his point into the other man's chest. The enchanter fell back with his final incantation uncompleted.

Bareris studied the mage for another moment, making sure their duel was truly over, then pivoted to survey the rest of the battle. Two of the gnolls were down, but with a final chop of his axe, Thovarr was reducing the last of the disembodied arms to inert splinters of bone.

His allies' success gave Bareris the opportunity to contemplate the enormity of what he'd done, or the seeming enormity. He'd earned a death by torture the moment he'd lifted his hand to So-Kehur and his skull-masked partner, so in practical terms, it shouldn't matter that he'd now killed a Red Wizard outright.

Yet it gave him pause. The eight orders taught every person and certainly every pauper in Thay to think of their members as superior, invincible beings, and though Bareris's experiences abroad had given him ample reason to feel confident of his own prowess, perhaps a part of him still believed the myth and was accordingly appalled at his temerity, but then a surge of satisfaction washed his trepidation away. After all, these were the bastards who'd taken Tammith away from him, and this particular specimen didn't look so exalted or omnipotent anymore, did he?

Wesk trotted up to him, bow in hand once more. He had a cut on his forearm where a greatsword must have grazed him, but he wasn't paying it any mind.

'I don't hear anyone coming,' he said, 'do you?'

Bareris listened. 'No. ' Evidently the fight hadn't made a great deal of noise. He was glad he hadn't needed to produce any of the prodigious booms or roars of which his magic was capable. He pointed to the gnolls still lying on the floor. 'How are they?'

'Dead.' If Wesk felt bad about it, no human could have told it from his manner. 'So what now?'

'We hide the bodies and what's left of the skeleton arms. With luck, that will buy us more time before anyone else realizes we were here.'

'And then we go through the gate?'

Bareris opened his mouth to say yes, then thought better of it. 'No. Thovarr's right. We don't know where it leads or what's waiting beyond, but we do know the necromancer believed that if he could reach the other side, it would save him. That means he could have had a lot of allies there. More than we, with half our band already lost, can hope to overcome.'

Wesk cocked his head. 'You didn't come this far just to give up.'

'No, but I'm going on alone, clad in the dead wizard's robe, in the hope that trickery will succeed where force would likely fail.'

'Did you notice that the robe has a bloody hole in it? You put it there.'

Bareris shrugged. 'It's not a big hole and not too bloody. Bodies don't bleed much after the heart stops. If I throw a cloak on over the robe, perhaps no one will notice.'

He'd also sing a song to make himself seem more likable and trustworthy, the very antithesis of a person meriting suspicion, but saw no point in mentioning that. He was still leery of allowing the gnolls to guess the extent to which he'd used magic to manipulate them.

Wesk grunted. 'Better, maybe, to disguise yourself with an illusion or be invisible.'

'Perhaps, but I don't know those particular songs. Somehow I never had the chance to learn them. Now let's get moving. We need don't anybody else blundering in on us while we stand around talking.'

They dragged the bodies to the room from which the Red Wizard had emerged. It turned out to be a small, bare, rectangular space the clergy of Horus-Re might have used to store votive candles, incense, and similar supplies. Bareris wondered what the mage had been doing in here and realized he'd never know.

He was stripping his fellow human's corpse when Wesk exclaimed, 'Your hair.'

Bareris reflexively raised a hand to touch his tangled, sweaty locks. 'Curse it!' Like any Mulan who hadn't spent the last several years in foreign lands, the Red Wizards uniformly employed razors, depilatories, or magic to keep themselves bald as stones.

Wesk pulled his knife from its sheath. 'I don't suppose you can truly shave without lather and such, but I can shear your hair very short, and the robe has a cowl. Keep it pulled up and maybe you'll pass.'

The gnoll proved to be about as gentle a barber as Bareris had expected. He yanked hard on the strands of hair, and the knife stung as it sawed them away. Bareris had no doubt it was nicking him.

'Gnolls take scalps for trophies sometimes,' said Wesk. 'You make the first cut like this.' He laid the edge of his knife against Bareris's forehead just below the hairline.

'I had a hunch that was what you were doing,' Bareris replied, and Wesk laughed his crazy, bestial laugh.

When the gnoll finished, Bareris brushed shorn hair off his shoulders and chest, put on the scarlet robe over his brigandine and breeches, then donned his cloak and sword belt. He hoped he could get away with wearing a sword. Though it wasn't common, he'd seen other Red Wizards do the same. But he realized with regret that he'd have to leave his yarting behind. The musical instrument would simply be too unusual and distinctive.

He handed it to Wesk. 'Take this. It's not a ruby, but it'll fetch a good price.'

The gnoll archer grinned. 'Maybe I'll keep it and learn to play.'

'Thank you all for your help. Now clear out of here. Try to be far away by daybreak.'

'Good hunting, human. It was good to be a soldier again, even if our army was very small.'

The gnolls stalked toward the exit. Singing softly, Bareris headed for the arch.

CHAPTER NINE

30 Mirtul-1 Kythorn, the Year of Risen Elfkin

For the briefest of instants, the universe shattered into meaningless sparks and smears of light, and Bareris felt as if he were plummeting. Then his stride carried him clear of the portal, and his lead foot landed on a surface just as solid and level as the floor in Horus-Re's holy of holies. But because his body had believed it was falling, he lurched off balance and had to take a quick step to catch himself.

Seeking to orient himself as rapidly as possible, he peered around. He was in another stone chamber, this one lit by the wavering greenish light of the sort of enchanted torch that burned forever without the heatless flames consuming the wood. It didn't look as though Mulhorandi had built this room. Its trapezoidal shape, the square doorways, and the odd zigzag carvings framing them were markedly different than the architecture of his ancestors or any other culture he knew of.