"My many times removed great-grandfather allowed an obscure religious order to build a monastery on the estate. It's been abandoned for at least a century, and I thought we could convert the buildings into another winery. The book was discovered during the cleaning and brought to my attention. I knew right away it must be magical and intended it for you, but it was covered with filth, in very poor condition. I was going to have it restored before presenting it to you as a surprise gift."

Doubtless had he gotten the chance to clean the volume, he would have destroyed anything useful that might have been in it, and my surprise would not have been of the sort to please either of us.

He continued. "Forgive me, but with this terrible man all thoughts of that went right from my head. All I could hope was that the book would appease him and that he would take it and go."

"What did he do?"

"He took it and went."

I restrained a sigh. Latos shiverd in reaction and quickly continued, "B-but first he muttered something over it-a spell, perhaps? It made my head hurt to hear the words."

A spell most certainly. Sometimes a casting had that effect on people sensitive to magic.

"He put it in my special keepsake box, ebony with a very fine bit of carving on it, and then he waved, like this-" Latos made a broad sweep with one arm toward the fireplace. "That's when all my precious books went flying into the flames. I tried to get them out, but…" he trailed off, holding his bandaged fingers up in a helpless gesture, like a mournful, abandoned puppy begging for table scraps. Perhaps that was his appeal to Zorah. "Then he gave me such a look, such a terrible look with those cold dead eyes that I thought he was going to kill me right on the spot. He waved again, and that's the last thing I remember until waking in my wife's arms."

I paced once around the room and back, senses straining, searching, probing-but could detect nothing useful but the aftermath of the simple spells committed against Latos and his books. Any trace of the mage himself was not to be found.

"What's to be done, my lord?" Latos asked, after a moment.

"First, you will complete the work he began."

"My lord?"

"Finish burning the books."

"But-"

"Their presence is what attracted him in the first place. If any remain, then might they not bring in even worse visitors?"

"Oh!" Latos shot the sooty volumes a fearful look. "I'd never thought of that."

"Get rid of them, even the copies which you have begun, but you will tell your friends-all of them, baron-that you gave them to me for safe-keeping. That way, should any other such 'visitors' come calling again, they may come to me." I did not want any of the locals getting ideas about burning any magical books they might find.

He chewed his lip, clearly unhappy, but nodded. "Immediately, my lord. As you command."

"I also want the name of the ringleader of the assault on the girl."

Latos, whose color had slowly begun to return, went white again and his jaw began to tremble. "B-but he's been punished, my lord."

"Not enough."

"But he's of noble blood."

"Which is no excuse for any crime." Noble or peasant, my justice was the same for all. This policy was not popular with the upper classes, but I had not taken up the rule of the land to be loved. Besides, the blood of the high tastes just the same as the low. "As for this thief Azalin, I will see to him."

"Thief?"

"He took your book and box away without permission or payment. You know my views on that sort of thing."

"Indeed, all of Barovia knows, my lord."

"Except, apparently, for Azalin."

The name I had gotten from Latos led me straight to the town of Berez. It was a bit farther west and south on the Luna river and held no happy memory for me. Not far from here I had encountered the first reincarnation of my Tatyana-and lost her.

I resolutely pushed that pain from my heart as I circled high over the town square, locating the domicile of the current baron. Because of my unhappy associations with the place I rarely visited this area, perhaps once for each succeeding generation. It was probably a mistake else the new scion of the family would have known better respect for my laws.

It took but a moment to ascertain the heir's sleeping quarters and slip through the cracks in the window casing. I reformed in silence and cautiously looked and listened about the room. The boy-bordering close upon manhood-was sprawled in a tangle of bedclothes, mouth open, and the sour smell of wine hung on his breath as he snored. He looked too innocent to be capable of anything vile, but I am myself a prime example of deceptive appearances.

I found a tinder box and lit a candle so that he could see me. He had one moment to transform from sluggish awareness to horrified full awakening, then I had him frozen to my will like a bird with a snake. I questioned him closely about his encounter with Azalin and learned that so far as he knew, the mage was still at the abandoned burgomaster's house just east of town. It was of some concern to the baron his father, and he had sent notice of the intrusion to me. Zorah's message via the Vistani had simply reached me first.

The boy had also been terrified of this newcomer, giving a vivid account of the incident, of how he and his three large armed friends had been no match for this single man. He had thrown them around like toys, then very nearly strangled them all, using only muttered words and a few gestures. I added each detail to my meager knowledge to build a better picture of what I would be facing. The man seemed to be a mage of considerable power who had no qualms about showing it off. The four louts had first understood nothing of the mage's language, but he had muttered what seemed an incantation and was perfectly understandable thereafter. The youth's description showed this Azalin to be arrogant in manner and speech, with little patience for fools.

We had, it seemed, much in common.

When it was clear that I had exhausted the store of information this specimen had to offer I liberated enough blood from his veins to ensure he would never again break my laws. Doubtless the discovery of the body would cause some consternation in the morning, but it was for the best. The thought of dealing with this dolt were he to inherit the barony was already irksome. This was one easy way to spare myself future annoyance.

I eased out the window again, going from mist to the form of a bat in seconds. The wind had the scent of rain upon it that grew stronger the farther east I went until the sky finally did open up to drench me. No dramatic peals of thunder, no strokes of lightning, simply a steady soaking downpour which the farmers so loved. The wind was with me now, and it was not long before I reached my goal. Apart from Azalin, I knew what awaited me there, a re-acquaintance with old pain and profound grief.

Of all the houses in all the towns in all of Barovia, why did he have to come to this one? Here it was that Tatyana, named Marina then, had been adopted into the home of Berez's skinflint burgomaster. His daughter in name and servant in reality, but he had harbored plans to take her for his wife, or so she had confessed to me. She was not particularly enamored of the idea, but it was beyond her power to avoid such a fate. Not, however, beyond mine.

I'd begun the process to make her like myself so that she need never serve anyone ever again, but I had underestimated the fear and ignorance of those around her. Too late had I arrived and was unable to save her from a brutal death at the hands of her would-be husband. I had served him an equally brutal punishment, though it was too quickly over. The whole sorry episode still haunted me, the memory bitter in my heart, as cutting as winter sleet. Losing Tatyana once had been terrible enough, but twice…