Taking into account that I as yet knew little about Azalin, I sensed he was also used to being in a position of power. If I picked up on that quality, then so would others, and they might try appealing to him for help against the devil Strahd, thinking Azalin would be an improvement as their leader. All their lives they'd known no other sovereign but me, so they had no one to compare with me, else they might find my guidance more agreeable. There is much difference between contention with one cautious wolf versus a rampaging bear.

I had some allies but many enemies. Until now the latter had no recourse but to endure my law as best they could, having no power to oppose me. But if they took it into their heads to win Azalin over to fight me, all could be lost. My instincts told me I wasn't yet ready to face him.

There was also the reverse to think on, that once he made their acquaintance, Azalin might use the boyars against me-even those who were unquestionably loyal. He was a powerful enough mage to do so. True, he was presently only interested in returning home, but should that prove to be an impossibility, what then? The open challenge he had mentioned? I deemed it best to keep everyone apart and work to get rid of him as soon possible.

My next sojourn after the Latos estate was to the Vistani camp next to the Tser Pool. The vardos looked much like the ones I had seen decades ago, same bright paints and carved trim; their occupants also seemed unchanged. Remarkably so considering that two generations had passed since I had made the pact with Madam Eva.

Over the years our agreement had proved to be a wise and mutually beneficial arrangement. The Vistani had ever kept me apprised of people and events in the country-though in the case of Azalin they had not done so well. I had, in turn, protected them from undue harassment and had refrained from taxing them. Their messengers regularly crossed the poisonous fog barrier to leave missives at Castle Ravenloft. By now every one of them knew the antidote for the fog, but so far they had kept that secret well within the tribe. As Eva had promised, they occasionally sold it to anyone foolish enough to want to enter the castle without my permission. The outcome of such transactions never failed but to enrich the Vistani pockets… and my larder cells.

I landed in the woods just outside the camp, having counted eight of their wagons pulled in a circle around several fires. Music drifted to me on the still air-there is always music at a Vistani gathering-and the smell of cooking. There was no snow on the ground, but otherwise things were much as they had been at our first meeting.

The Vistani are not as shy about being out after dark as most Barovians, but they are far more sensitive to the world around them. Even as I settled my cloak back into place I noticed mothers scurrying to gather their children and the men standing to look in my direction. The music stopped.

Rarely did I bother to show myself to such a large group. Usually my dealings were with a single messenger such as the one resembling Bartolome who had come to me the previous night. I saw him again now, striding forward to stop a respectful distance away to execute a sweeping bow.

"We give welcome to the wise Lord Strahd," he said in response to my nod. "Madam Ilka is expecting you."

I was hardly startled by that bit of news. It would be an extraordinary night indeed if I ever surprised a Vistana seer.

He led me to a vardo similar to Eva's but with little birds etched into the glass panes of its windows instead of flowers. He reached high and opened the door, motioning me up the steep wooden steps to the shadows within.

The interior was cramped as they all were, but she'd made good use of the space. Along with bunches of herbs, lanterns hung from the ceiling crossbars. Their glass was tinted pink, lending a soft glow to everything. I dare say it made even me look less pale. The bed was neatly folded up against one wall and a shelf let down from another to serve as a temporary table. Ilka sat behind it, her watchful gaze on me. I was immediately struck by the startling similarity she bore to her predecessor, the same round, wizened face-if decidedly more wrinkled-the same short, wide figure. Most startling were the eyes. Her eyes were exactly the same as Eva's, the same dark, penetrating gaze. Had I not know better, I would have sworn that Eva herself sat before me.

"Welcome to you, Lord Strahd," she said, not budging from her chair. As she must have been well past eighty, I assumed it was not meant as a slight and found a seat for myself. She looked frail, but her voice was yet strong, and the light in her eyes fierce.

"Thank you. I received your message about remembering Madam Eva's warning. Was there anything you can add to it?"

"You wish a reading?"

Suddenly I noticed the deck of tarokka cards in her hands. They had not been there an instant before. Very talented, she was, like her mentor. I nodded, and she gave the cards to me to shuffle. I made a thorough job of it, taking my time, admitting to myself that I was reluctant to see what message they had in store for me. They were her own deck and felt different from Eva's, just as heavy, but cold. The more I shuffled, the colder they got.

"Put one card in the center," she said.

I did so. It was The Darklord.

Just as I feared. If I'd still possessed a beating heart, it would have lurched and begun pounding with dread anticipation. I looked to Ilka for a clue on what was to come, but not one of the many lines on her face shifted. Fighting the feeling of dread, I managed to carry out the rest of the pattern of shuffling and placing the top cards on their designated places.

Next came The Beast, The Necromancer, The Warrior, and The Mercenary cards. The reading was identical in every way to the one Eva had given me over seventy years ago.

When it comes to the Vistani and their skill at knowing the future, I do not believe in chance or coincidence. A chill from the cards worked its way up my hands, seeped into my chest and settled there. It was only by great force of will that I managed not to openly shiver.

"The Necromancer has come," said Ilka, echoing my exact fear. "I have had dark dreams of this for the last few nights. Dreams of fire and sword, of things of darkness stalking the land, killing, and the dead rising up to kill others in turn."

Imprecise pictures from her inner mind such as anyone with a morbid imagination might have. I needed something more specific. "Did your dreams tell you aught else?"

"Only that which the cards have shown you here."

"What is to be done?" I had taken all the precautions I could think of for the moment, but was very much open to suggestions.

"Shuffle the cards. But the answer will be vague for so vague a question-and no, you cannot ask a new one."

Deciding to swallow my annoyance at her presumptuous tone, I obeyed her. I turned over the card on top. It was blank.

"What is this?" I demanded. "Why do you have such a card in this deck?"

She stared and shook her head; the sound of her heart's rapid beating seeming to fill every nook of the vardo. "I-l do not understand. There should be no such card here at all."

"You did not make this one?"

"No, Lord Strahd." She pressed far back in her chair, as if trying to distance herself from the table. This was clearly a great surprise to her.

I wanted to back away as well, but settled for merely placing the remainder of the icy deck between us.

"There is magic afoot, then. This was meant as a message to me. What is its meaning?"

"There can be only one: that things beyond your present knowledge are taking shape that have a bearing on what you will face."

"To help or to hinder me?"

She shrugged.

"Not too terribly useful, then."