The ghostly spirit writhed and twisted, groping for a tiny snippet of control. But there was still that interference, the force that blocked him, competed for the power of the gemstone. And instead, the essence of evil could only despair as the fiery enchantment of the stone came so close that it all but sang out its message of vitality, of hope, of life itself.

Then the impending conjunction was shattered beyond restoration, cast aside by the shield he could perceive but not identify. Infuriated, Fistandantilus turned the full power of his attentions toward one of these companions. Quickly he saw that this was a human lad, a person easily distinguished from the faceless mass of humanity.

This was his enemy, the source of the mask that was a power equal to the ancient one's. The presence, the competing essence fought with him, brushed him aside. Overwhelmed, Fistandantilus felt his awareness slipping away.

The kender was once again his own master.

And another person, the human boy, was added to the list of those who had to die.

First Kirinor, Reapember 374 AC

Danyal watched as the whole group of bandits took shelter in the ditch, while Kelryn seized Foryth and him by the arms and pulled them out of sight behind a boulder beside the mountain road. The slope above them was steep and rocky, while across the way, the ground dropped into infinite blackness. From the remembered view at sunset, the lad knew that the terrain on the other side of the road plunged down a steep incline toward a mountain stream far below.

He tried to see through the darkness, but Dan could make out nothing of what was approaching along the track. All he could hear was the tuneful whistling, the sound growing slowly louder as they waited.

"Who do you suppose it is?" Foryth asked, the sound of his voice carrying through the night air.

"Silence!" hissed Kelryn, pulling the historian farther back from the road.

Danyal, meanwhile, lowered himself to the ground and peered around the edge of the large rock, seeking some sign of the approaching whistler. He could see the vague shapes of the huddled bandits crouching in the ditch, fading moonlight reflecting dully off exposed steel. The lad remembered Zack's keen blade, the bandit's willingness to wet that razor edge in the blood of seemingly anyone within reach, and he prayed that the unwitting traveler would suddenly turn around, would flee down that dark mountain road.

The next sounds he heard dashed all those hopes, even as they sent the bandits into consternation.

"Hi there! What are you doing in that muddy ditch? It's a lot drier up here on the road."

The eight men of Kelryn's band lunged forward to form a ring around the diminutive traveler Danyal saw in their midst. The thugs growled like wild animals, though their presence didn't seem to startle or worry the lone wanderer.

"Oh, were you waiting for me? That's nice. Pleased to make your acquaintance-Emilo Haversack, at your service. And you are…?"

"A kender!" declared Zack in disgust, advancing on the unconcerned fellow.

"Why, yes. Haversack is a kender name, after all-one of the finest, oldest, and most honorable of all the kender clans, if I say so myself. And of course I do, because nobody else will."

Somehow the kender had passed through the ring of bandits to make his final remarks before Kelryn, Foryth, and Danyal. Though they hadn't emerged from the shelter of the concealing boulder, Danyal realized with vague surprise, the diminutive stranger had somehow wandered right up to them.

"Emilo Haversack, at your service," he repeated, clasping Danyal's bound hands and pumping enthusiastically.

"Hey-he got my purse!" shouted one of the bandits, a burly and sullen archer known as Bolt, as the group whirled toward the kender.

"What? Oh, this?" Emilo was holding a small leather sack, a pouch that jingled as he lifted it. "You must have dropped it. Here!"

The kender tossed the pouch back to Bolt, but as it sailed through the air, a stream of silvery coins tumbled out, bouncing and rolling across the road.

"My steel!" roared the bandit, dropping to his knees and trying to sweep together all the coins. Laughing uproariously, the other members of the band joined in the fun, snatching any of their compatriot's coins that rolled out of his reach.

Danyal watched in amazement as Emilo took Foryth's hands in a vigorous handshake, then bowed deeply to Kelryn Darewind.

"Anyone could see that you're the esteemed leader of these bold fellows. I'm honored to make your acquaintance. Emilo Haversack, at-"

"I know," Kelryn interjected drily. "At my service. But how, pray, can a kender offer service? And why should I accept it, if offered?"

Emilo chuckled good-naturedly. "Both very good questions, of course. Actually, I wouldn't think that you'd get many kender around here. But if there is anything I can do for you, well, I'd be glad to talk about it."

"Stop that confounded midget!" shouted Bolt, who was still upset about his lost steel pieces. "I'll take each missing coin out of his hide."

"Well, really," said Emilo in exasperation. "I'm the one who returned your purse. I don't see why you should be taking such an attitude."

It was then that Danyal noticed his bonds had miraculously fallen from his wrists. Remembering the enthusiastic handshake from the kender, he regarded Emilo Haversack with growing awe.

And concern. Unmollified, Bolt was advancing on the little fellow. The bandit's short sword was raised, and he was clearly in no mood for fancy explanations.

"Hey! My purse is missing, too!" Zack's roar of outrage checked Bolt's menacing approach.

"Is this it?" Emilo was holding up another pouch full of coins. "You should really be a little more careful." Again the purse flew through the air, and again, to cries of outrage and glee, valuable coinage tumbled to the road, bouncing into the ditches, rolling along the ruts.

Even Kelryn had paused, hand on his sword as he watched in amusement, Danyal noticed. The bandit lord advanced to stand close behind Emilo Haversack and finally put his hands on his hips to laugh aloud at the antics of his followers.

The lad cast a glance at Foryth and saw the historian looking with amazement at the loose ropes dangling from his own wrists. Dan felt a flickering dawn of hope, but it was quickly dashed. Even free from their bonds, it didn't seem likely that the two of them could evade their captors for long before they would be run down and caught. And he didn't even want to think about the precautions the bandits might take if the pair showed an intention to escape, nor about the vengeance Zack might take if he should recapture his fugitives.

"Here, let me help with that," Emilo offered genially. He sauntered toward the men, who backed away, each unconsciously revealing the location of his valuables as he placed a hand at belt, side pouch, or, in one case, the top of his boot.

Ignoring their distress, the kender skipped through the group of suspicious bandits. "Here!" he cried, flipping a steel piece to Bolt. "And another!" This time the glittering coin tumbled past Zack's outstretched hand, bouncing onto the road, then rolling between Bolt's legs.

"That's mine!"

"Keep yer paws off it!"

Immediately the two bandits lunged, colliding heavily, then falling to the ground where they exchanged sharp punches. Rolling back and forth, spitting and swearing, the pair thrashed from one side of the road to the other. Steel flashed in the darkness, and Danyal saw that Zack had drawn his wicked knife.

"No blades!" Kelryn Darewind's voice cracked through the night, and the one-eyed bandit, cursing loudly, tossed his dagger aside and delivered his fist into Bolt's blunt nose.