"Farewell, my dear Ancilla," Tarscenian whispered. "I will never forget-"

I am here, my love.

Tarscenian leaped to his feet, drew his sword, and dropped into ready position. Then the realization came over him that he recognized the faint voice. He forced himself to take a deep breath.

After more than fifty years with the female mage, one would think nothing could surprise him anymore.

Tarscenian peered through the trees. "I feared the worst, Ancilla," he murmured. "I feared you were-" He stopped talking, surveyed the scene again curiously.

There was no sign of anyone. And especially no sign of an eighty-year-old, white-robed wizard.

The voice whispered again, and Tarscenian realized he heard it inside his head.

Even with the powers of two score mages, I could not defeat him. The Diamond Dragon is stronger than I'd ever thought possible, Tarscenian. By Paladine! I thought forty mages would be enough. Now-

"Ancilla," Tarscenian snapped impatiently, interrupting her. "Where in the reaches of the endless Abyss are you, woman?"

I tried to place a binding spell on Hederick. I had the power of forty mages, after all. Have you heard of a binding spell, Tarscenian?

Of course he had, although casting such a spell was far beyond his carnival-level powers. A binding spell could pluck something or someone out of one reality to be dropped at the whim of the spellcaster into another one.

So now I'm right where I'd hoped to put Hederick. And the spell has left me too weak to reverse it myself. Not without the Diamond Dragon. I…

"Where are you?" Tarscenian repeated. "I can barely hear you, Ancilla."

Within the vallenwood trunk, back in the courtyard of the temple. lam trapped'.

The old man sat back down in the ferns and contem shy;plated this news. "Be calm, my love," he said at last. "At least you are alive. Thank Paladine for that."

I will do what I can to help you from here, Tarscenian, but the battle, I fear, belongs to you now.

"Must we use only magic?"

What other means do you suggest we use? The Seeker "gods" have corrupted my brother's mind and confuse his thoughts; you know he will not listen-

Tarscenian interrupted angrily. "Couldn't we simply wait until Hederick leaves the temple and waylay him? Let me do it, Ancilla. I am old but still strong. I assure you I would enjoy the task."

We have argued about this before, Tarscenian.

"Please. I can easily kill him if the opportunity presents itself. One quick thrust… I promise you he will not suf shy;fer."

Stop! I will not have Hederick harmed. I made an oath-/ swore never to physically hurt him. If I cannot halt him here and now, his own greed and ambition will eventually take care of him-but I must stop him from doing irreparable harm to the world. Tarscenian, lam afraid.

"He's dangerous. Let me…"

He is dangerous because he is weak but believes himself strong. It is not his fault, Tarscenian; his wrongheadedness is born of pain. It could play powerfully into the wrong hands.

"Ancilla…"

I fear the evil goddess will make much use of Hederick.

Nonetheless, Tarscenian, I swore an oath to my brother.

"Hederick despises you, Ancilla. I could dispatch him with a quick thrust of steel. He'd not hesitate to do the same to you, you know that. For your sake, I'd make sure it was instantaneous, which is more than he'd grant you."

No, Tarscenian. I cannot renege on such an oath.

"Let me follow him, at least, and divine where he keeps the Diamond Dragon. I will try to steal it back for you."

We have tried that. You are a crafty illusionist, my love, but you have no skills as a thief. And Hederick knows what you look like now.

"I could hire a thief."

We have tried that, too. Many times. But perhaps Solace thieves are more adept than those we have engaged in the past. Do that-hire one. It is something, anyway.

Tarscenian's thoughts shifted. "We were not able to save the woman Crealora."

We eased her passage to the next world. She felt little pain.

"But she died!"

The woman is with Paladine, my friend. She is away from the pain of this world. It is not our place to wish her back.

Tarscenian did not reply. This time it was Ancilla's turn to offer comfort.

Don't despair, my love. Lie low until the guards stop looking for you, and then find us a ring of thieves. I will do what I can from here. I still have a few ways to annoy my brother, never fear. Perhaps I cannot stop him permanently, but surely I can make his life miserable.. .as he has made mine.

Chapter 8

The high Theocrat changed into a fresh robe after the execution and turned his sullied garment over to a novitiate for burning. Then Hederick headed straight for the Great Chamber. He sent Dahos and the others away, then clos shy;eted himself to prepare for the evening revelations.

He may have defeated one of the greatest mages ever, but routine was sacred. Seeker gods did not tolerate slop-piness.

Everything in the Great Chamber was out of place today, of course. It always was this way, despite repeated punishment of his terrified aides. The incense holders, the ceremonial crystals, the holy parchments-all were only a hairsbreadth awry, but wrong nonetheless. Had no one else read the Praxis?

Hederick resolved to speak once more with his high

priest. Perhaps he would have to make an example of one of the novitiates before the rest applied themselves more dutifully. But now he busied himself setting things to rights in the pulpit. It wouldn't do to have the Greater and Lesser Pantheons gaze down on untidiness when he sum shy;moned them before hundreds of devout Seekers.

Setting out the ritual implements according to intricate, century-old patterns was an exacting task, but Hederick had a passion for detail. He routinely caught lapses in Seeker protocol that far younger men missed.

I may be well past sixty, but I have sharper faculties than most priests, he told himself. That's why I'm High Theocrat. The New Gods have blessed me. After all, they helped me defeat Ancilla.

He stood a little straighter despite the cramp that had creased his back since the tussle with Mendis Vakon. Hed shy;erick frowned and moved the goblet of holy mead an inch to the right.

Then he froze. Cold fire gripped the pit of his stomach. Sweat drenched him.

He swept the room with a stare.

Undeniably, Hederick was alone. But not alone.

The High Theocrat stood quietly for a moment. Then he reached into the front of his robe and pulled out the Dia shy;mond Dragon. He removed the leather covering and shook the artifact onto his palm.

The Diamond Dragon, as always, was warm to the touch and all aglitter. Hederick squinted and stared directly at it, even though that always made his head ache. If he concentrated enough, he could see the artifact's outline: jagged scales, wicked tail, and toothy maw of a tiny dragon. A lance grew from its midsection like some misplaced egg tooth.

Crafted in precious steel, with ruby eyes and encrusted with diamonds all down its back, the thing was worth a fortune. Early in his Seeker career, when he had been poor enough to fear starvation, he was tempted to pawn it.

But Sauvay, his god, had invested it with his blessing. The Diamond Dragon had protected Hederick more than once. The High Theocrat stroked the figurine, replaced it in the bag, and dropped the pendant inside his robe once more. The knot in his stomach eased.

Then the fear hit full-force. He was being observed, and the observer was malevolent. Hederick maintained his emotionless mien and, as though it were an afternoon like any other, poured sanctified mead from a silver vase into a stemmed goblet of crystal, its tiny bowl barely larger than a thimble.