"That you got in and out of Avernus without being killed or worse is noteworthy, but-" I held up the papers torn from Azalin's private journal, "this tells me nothing I did not already know, which means that you were meant to steal it and get away."

His face fell. "Then the Lord Strahd is not happy?"

I was as far from that state as could be imagined but kept my expression neutral. "My one kernel of hope is that Azalin's agents are as efficient as you are."

Dioti took that as a compliment, grinned, and bowed low. Aldrick Wachter, an annoyed look on his own features, stepped forward and jerked his head toward the study door, indicating to Dioti that his time had come to leave. He did so with many more bows than was absolutely necessary.

Aldrick turned to me. "You should have him executed, my lord, he's a fool."

"Azalin may do that for us soon enough. In this fight I cannot afford to waste even the fools."

"He'll betray you, perhaps not purposely, but by mischance."

"He knows nothing of importance, and serves as a distraction to the enemy. If Azalin thinks Dioti is the measure of the people I have been sending in against him then so much the better for us. Now, forget him and attend to this new map."

I spread the parchment over the broad table.

"This river's moved," he said pointing to one of the winding lines I had reproduced from my long hours hunched over the crystal scouting and mapping every square mile of Darkon. "And what's this lake doing in the middle of a desert area?"

"It's likely not there at all. Azalin is casting illusions everywhere to mislead, though there is the possibility that he's able to change the very features of the land itself." I could not discount such a possibility, that Darkon altered to reflect the moods of its lord as Barovia's weather often matched my own.

"How can we march under such conditions?" He was not despairing, but honestly curious, as if my pitifully small army had a chance of actually invading Darkon.

Since the day of that first skirmish with Azalin's zombies every farmer and shepherd not actually engaged in food production was pressed into military service. The same went for the nobility as I found ways to keep their younger sons and daughters busy. Many of my commanders were like Aldrick, drawn from the families of the boyars, groomed from birth to give and take orders as befitted their stations of responsibility, but there were not enough of them. Even with my dead servitors to bolster the ranks, I didn't have a tenth of the force that Azalin would be able to raise.

If I could trust the scraps of information Dioti brought (which I constantly confirmed by my other spies) and if what I saw in my crystal was not an illusion, Azalin was taking his time in preparation, apparently wanting to make a thorough job of it. Despite the fact that his influence with them ended at the border whenever I was present to fight them, he could have probably summoned enough of his dead to carry out an invasion but held back from that action. Instead he kept them close to the frontier; as far as I could determine they were there to defend his side should I think to send anyone across.

Elsewhere in Darkon I saw troops being gathered up and trained, noted the location of the camps and how many lived there, wrote down the names of all his chief commanders. He had some two dozen people of high rank whom he tested again and again for their unconditional loyalty, then put them in charge of other loyal officers. This was his Kargat, and they were absolute dictators within their given domain, answerable to none but themselves, their immediate leaders, and Azalin.

Azalin picked only the best fighters for the Kargat, then saw to it that they were initiated into the dark life of the undead, making them highly effective and dangerous agents. Occasionally he "gifted" a select few with lycanthropy should their own nature dictate it as more suitable. Though infants compared to me, they were like minor gods-or devils-to the frail mortals about them. I could surmise that they would ultimately be leading the invasion force by their frequent attendance at staff and strategy meetings with General Vychen. I eavesdropped as best I could on these, though if I lingered too long or too close my presence was noticed. Still, I managed to gain much useful information on their movements, personal habits, and weaknesses over the long course of my observations from afar.

Though Azalin took his time assembling his army, there was no shortage of small skirmishes along our border, usually involving a few zombies sent in to harass the common folk there. Because of their limits the creatures were no real threat to anyone who knew how to fight them, but this still caused a general migration of refugees out of the area, mostly terrified farmers and herders. As for the zombies, they could cross in at any given time, creating havoc for their master. Since he usually sent them across during the day, I was sure their chief purpose was to keep my people dispirited, distracted, and on edge.

I instructed my border guardians on how to best deal with the things themselves and got on with other work. Instead of wasting precious time fighting mere pawns, I kept busy producing magical items to aid my own top people, but the process was exhausting, so not many had such treasures. It was better that they rely on their own resources and training, anyway. Azalin was ironically helping to season my soldiers into true fighters, for each time they drove back or destroyed one of his assaults, it was a great boost to their confidence.

Insofar as magical preparation was concerned, my chief priority was to forestall Azalin from observing anything of importance. To this end all my top people were given protective neck chains to be worn constantly. The links were imbued with a casting that prevented Azalin from spying on their wearers-Azalin, not myself, which I carefully built that into the spell. Thus were they able to come and go and speak freely without fear of being seen or overheard by anyone but me, and of course, I took care not to inform them about the latter detail. It was how I made sure my own people were loyal, an impressive accomplishment of work for me but not nearly sufficient to the need.

As indicated by the Tarokka cards all those years ago I had to seek help from outside. Thus did I send Yersinia Wachter, under close and well armed escort, into Mordent and Lamordia as my first ambassador to the lands beyond Barovia. Her overt mission was to establish formal trade agreements with them and arrange for a mutual defense policy. Unhappily Azalin had already achieved a non-aggression treaty with the mayor of Mordentshire, whose near-insignificant office was the closest thing the whole country had for government. He'd had less luck in Lamordia, which didn't even have that much government.

Yersinia had better luck cultivating friends within Mordent's Weathermay clan, one of the town's most prominent families. She was perfectly suited on a social level to deal with anything involving the upper classes, which was why I'd chosen her for the task. Though she lacked experience in soldiering, she was an expert at reading people and getting them to talk. By this means she was able to make the right contacts to achieve her covert mission: the hiring of mercenaries.

Leaving her son to scrutinize the new maps, I quit the study for a smaller room nearby that I had prepared with absolute privacy in mind, bolstering this objective with heavy protection spells. Its original opening on a minor corridor was bricked up, and now the chief entry was a window too narrow for anything but a bat to squeeze past. For emergencies I had a second opening in a cracked bit of flooring no larger than my thumb, but adequate for me to flow through as mist.

Within, all was draped in black velvet, walls, floor, ceiling, including the single chair that made up the furnishings. Here would I sit, the crystal ball before me in my hands, able to concentrate fully on its images, free of all diversions as I seemed to float in featureless darkness. The only light came from within the crystal.