"Gods, kid—you're pretty good at this moving in shadows stuff," Ferret said in his raspy voice.

Kellen sat down on a rock beside the thief. "I like shadows." he said matter-of-factly.

"Well I think they like you, too," Ferret replied, his crooked teeth gleaming in the darkness. "You'd make a good thief, Kellen."

With a thumb, Kellen traced the puckered scar on the palm of his left hand. "I think I'm supposed to be a mage Ferret. At least, that's what Morhion says." Ferret gave a shrug. "Who says you can't do both?" Kellen considered the possibility. Mages cast powerful spells and used magical wands to conjure lightning and fireballs, but thieves got to prowl about in the dark and steal interesting treasures from ancient tombs. Both professions hadad their attractive points. "I'll have to think about it," he said finally.

As he spoke, the night wind picked up, whistling mournfully over the jagged rocks. Kellen felt icy pin-pricks stinging against his cheeks. It was starting to snow.

"We'd better get back to camp," Ferret said. "Mari and

Morhion will be wondering where we are."

Together they moved silently through the chill night toward the hollow where they had left the others. They had gone no more than a dozen paces when the wind suddenly turned into a gale. Another dozen paces and the gale became a hurricane. Kellen stumbled, the fierce wind lifting him bodily off the ground. He would have been blown down a ravine and dashed against the rocks were it not for Ferret's quick reflexes. The thief grabbed the collar of Kellen's tunic and pulled him back. Holding on to each other, they tried to make headway against the wind, but the gale seemed to blow them back nearly as many paces as they stumbled ahead. The sound of the wind rose to a keening wail, and the hard snow felt as if it were scouring the skin off Kellen's face. The scar on his left hand throbbed dully.

"I don't think this is a normal storm, Ferret!" he cried over the shriek of the wind.

"Even I could figure that one out, kid!" Ferret shouted back.

Cloaks flying wildly behind them, the two struggled on. Suddenly, like a dark wound, a rift opened in the clouds that had hung for three days over the High Moor. With impossible speed the rift widened as the violent wind ripped the clouds to ragged tatters. As quickly as it had risen, the gale dwindled and blew itself into stillness. The night was utterly silent. Stars glittered like chips of ice in the perfect black sky, and a gibbous moon frosted the land with crystalline light.

"It's beautiful," Kellen whispered, his breath making ghosts in the motionless air.

"Yeah?" Ferret asked softly. "I was thinking more along the lines of'weird' myself." The thief's beady eyes glittered warily in the moonlight.

Then a new sound shattered the frozen air—the hunting call of a lone hound. After a moment, the hound's distant cry was echoed by that of another, and another, then dozens like it.

"I think we might want to hurry a little, Ferret," Kellen said gravely.

The thief did not argue. They started into a trot, then a lope, and finally an all-out run. The malevolent baying echoed all around now, and it was getting closer. Hearts pounding, the two reached their encampment to find Mari and Morhion staring wide-eyed into the night.

"What in the name of the Abyss is going on?" Ferret swore, panting.

"The shadevari conjured shadowhounds to pursue us,' Mari said grimly.

"We managed to escape them in the Reaching Woods," Morhion added. "However, I fear we have little chance of eluding them on the open moor."

Ferret shuddered. "It was a rhetorical question. You didn't have to answer it, you know."

More sinister baying splintered the night, closer than before.

"We can stand here and argue semantics, or we can find a place to defend ourselves. Which would you prefer?"

Morhion asked.

"What do you think?" Ferret snapped in exasperation. "There." Mari said, pointing into the moonlit night. "We'll make our stand there." Less than a quarter of a mile away, a low hill rose against the starry sky. Standing atop the tor was a jagged ring of stones, the ruins of an ancient tower. There was little need to urge the frightened horses into a gallop. In moments, the four reached the crest of the hill and led the horses through a gap into the ruin. The wall of weathered stone stood about shoulder height, and the floor which was covered with a carpet of moss and witch-grass was no more than a dozen paces across.

Morhion muttered the words of a spell, and a blue Incandescence burst to life between his hands. Slowly, the glow began to spread outward in a widening circle. "What are you doing?" Mari asked breathlessly. "This is a spell of protection," Morhion explained. "However, I fear it will do little to ward us against the Shadowhounds. But it may give us a few moments to—"

Morhion gasped. The ring he wore on his left hand—the ring given him in Talis by the witch Isela—flashed brilliantly. The magical circle of radiance changed from blue to dark purple and expanded rapidly, striking the wall. There was a sizzling sound, and countless tendrils of purple magic crackled, coiling around the weathered stones and plunging into the cracks between them. In moments the entire wall glowed with a deep purple radiance.

"What was that?" Ferret asked. "Er, and that one wasn't a rhetorical question."

"I don't know," Morhion said in wonderment. "Some how the ring altered my spell."

Howls of bloodlust filled the air. At the bottom of the hill, a score of dark forms appeared out of the night. Swiftly, they began loping up the rocky slope.

"Well, we'd better hope the ring knew what it was doing," Mari said somberly as she drew the short sword at her hip.

Ferret followed suit, pulling a long dagger from a leather sheath at his belt. "I suppose it's too late to tell you that I've changed my mind and decided to stay behind in Soubar," he said forlornly.

No one even bothered to reply.

With impossible swiftness, the shadowhounds streamed up the side of the hill. They looked like normal dogs, only they were blacker than midnight and bigger than the largest of mastiffs. Their sharp teeth glowed in the moonlight, their eyes burned with crimson light.

"Stay behind me, Kellen," Morhion ordered, and boy did as he was told.

For a moment the baying ended, and there was only eerie silence as the shadowhounds closed the last few yards to the ruined tower. Then, as one, they struck. Snarling ravenously, the onyx hounds leapt easily over the ragged wall, long tongues hanging out of gaping muzzles.

Purple radiance crackled brilliantly as snarls of hunger turned to yelps of pain. Like tiny bolts of violet lightning, tendrils of purple magic arced upward from the wall to engulf each of the shadowhounds in midair. The onyx beasts were thrown violently backward. They struck the ground howling and writhing until the purple sparks flickered and dimmed. The hounds regained their feet and padded warily toward the tower, lips curled back from sharp fangs. This time, however, they did not jump the wall.

"The magic of the ring—it's holding them back!" Mari said in amazement.

"Don't get your hopes up yet," Ferret countered. "We have a little problem." With his dagger, he pointed to the gap in the wall through which they had entered the ruined tower. Even now the hounds were prowling around the wall. "Hold out your weapons," Morhion commanded. Startled, the other two did as they were told. Morhion muttered the words of another spell of protection, conjuring a second sphere of blue light. As before, the ring on his left hand flashed. Blue radiance became purple. The sizzling violet magic coiled around Mari's sword and Ferret's dagger until the two blades glowed with an enchanted light.

A shadow appeared in the gap, along with a pair of burning eyes. Mari and Ferret whirled just in time to face the shadowhound's leap. Maw snapping violently, the monster fell upon Mari as she thrust her sword out before her. She fell to the ground, the beast on top of her. Suddenly it threw back its head, letting out a howl of agony. Searing purple magic radiated from Mari's sword, engulfing the beast; the enchanted blade had pierced its body. The bound stumbled backward, howled again, then collapsed. In seconds its body had dissolved into a puddle of dark sludge. The purple magic faded. Pale-faced and bruised, Mari pulled herself to her feet. Another shadowhound tried to jump through the breach. Ferret slashed with his blazing dagger, and the beast leapt backward. More of the dark hounds gathered outside the gap, but they had seen the effects of Mari's sword on one of their ilk. They growled menacingly, but none dared try to force its way in. Then, as if in answer to some inaudible signal, the hounds all turned and loped away down the hill. The companions stared at each other in amazement.