“Really?”

At Kaz’s whispered suggestion, the three walked toward a knight whose armor indicated he was of some rank in the Order of the Crown. Acting as if he were the minotaur’s captor, Darius ordered Kaz to come to a halt. With great uneasiness, he steeled himself and stepped forward to speak with his fellow knight.

“Knight Darius, late of the keep in the province of Westia.”

With his helm completely obscuring his face, it was impossible to tell whether the other knight even took any notice of Darius.

“I have with me the minotaur named Kaz, brought here at the command of the Grand Master himself.”

A mournful howl filled the air of the keep. It was answered by other howls from all about the citadel.

‘They’re coming!” the knight Darius had been speaking to shouted suddenly. All around them, the forms were beginning to move with a determination that amazed the trio. Lances were made ready. A few knights secured their torches and reached for bows. The arrows they fitted had tiny bits of moist cloth tied to them. Kaz realized the men were making fire arrows.

In the shadows all around, they could hear the padding of feet, the harsh breathing of several large creatures, and the occasional repetition of the mournful wail.

Kaz glanced at the knights. “They’re ignoring us…”

The howling was replaced by growls.

“Interesting timing,” Kaz commented sourly.

“What do you mean?”

“After the day’s quiet and Argaen’s betrayal, I just think that this attack is too well timed.”

“A diversion!” Darius blurted.

“Here they come!” someone cried.

White shapes began to burst from the shadows, long, sinewy white shapes so very familiar to Kaz. Baleful blind eyes, burning red, contrasted greatly with the dead flesh of the hairless beasts.

“Dreadwolves!”

The others looked at him. From him they knew of dreadwolves, but actually to see one was quite another matter. The repulsive dreadwolves charged toward the thin line of valiant knights.

Darius could not stand it. “Kaz, we cannot abandon my brothers! Mad or not, they fight for their lives!”

“Our mission is just as important! Whatever Argaen plans, I want to make certain that he doesn’t end up bringing Vingaard Keep down around us!”

A fiery arrow caught a dreadwolf in midleap. The creature tumbled to the side, then rose again. When it realized it was on fire, it began to roll on the ground. The arrow snapped and the head buried itself deeper in the creature, but it didn’t concern the dreadwolf. It was not alive but was merely a parody of life.

Kaz, frustrated, took Darius by the collar. “Listen, human,” he snorted madly. “In times past, the dreadwolves were controlled by the sorcerer, Dracos! Dracos should be dead, but someone or something is controlling those monsters! I think the key lies in the vaults! Someone should go down there and investigate!”

Another dreadwolf became skewered on the end of a long lance. Somehow the defenders were succeeding in keeping the battle a stalemate.

As Kaz released his grip on Darius, the truth of the situation dawned on him.

“You’ve nothing to worry about, Darius,” he said quickly. “They’re like the knight we fought-illusions!”

They watched another dreadwolf, pinned to the ground, vanish. The knight who had pinned him down with his lance seemed to take this in stride, calmly awaiting the next one.

“Come on!” cried Kaz. “I doubt we have too much time!”

Though they had half-expected it, it was still a bit of a shock to discover that the building was empty. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the halls. Kaz, the only one of the three who had ever been in the Grand Master’s citadel, led the way.

Kaz only hoped that Oswal had no intention of hanging him from the point of a lance. It would certainly spoil the reunion, not to mention any chances of catching Argaen before it was too late. Kaz wondered what the elf’s plan was. What did he intend to do with whatever artifact or power lurked down in the vault?

They turned down the hallway and found two elaborately decorated doors blocking their path. Kaz tried the doors and, when they proved to be locked, clasped both hands together, raising them high in the air and bringing them down hard where the two doors joined.

The doors burst open with a loud crash. Splinters flew everywhere.

Beyond the entrance, seated in a throne atop a dais and guarded by a dozen stern figures, was the still-majestic form of the Grand Master of the Knights of Solamnia. Even from where he stood, Kaz could see the strain that Lord Oswal was under. Despite that, Oswal continued to radiate a power of majesty.

The aquiline features, so much like those of his nephew though tempered by age, came into view as the Grand Master looked up at those who had dared invade his inner sanctum. The eyes seemed to pierce the trio.

“So!” Oswal suddenly raged. He stood up and pointed a condemning finger at the three. “You think to twist my mind with still more of your masks, your illusions? I feel your weakness! The knighthood will triumph!”

With odd dreamlike movements, the guards on the steps of the platform began to draw toward the newcomers. The Grand Master fairly wept with delight. “They see you! I’ve survived your spell of madness, then!”

“How is it things keep getting worse and worse?” snarled Kaz. He stepped in front of Darius and Tesela and raised both hands high in the air, palms toward the guards so that they could see he was unarmed. “Lord Oswal!”

The figure standing before the throne stiffened. “A good ploy, but not good enough!”

“What does he mean?” Darius whispered.

“Quiet!” Kaz hissed. To the Grand Master, he called, “Lord Oswal, you know me! I am the minotaur, Kaz, friend of Huma and the knighthood!”

“Kaz?” A peculiar expression moved slowly over the elder knight’s face. “Kaz is dead! I ordered his capture and execution on nonexistent charges before I realized that there was a spell of madness enveloping the keep and that I had been affected along with the rest of the men. I ordered all their executions-Arak Hawkeye, Lord Guy Avondale, Taggin… So many died before my eyes.”

The guards were nearly upon them. Darius stepped up next to Kaz, his sword committed in the minotaur’s defense. “Milord, I am Darius of the Order of the Crown, from a keep in the south. I know not the whereabouts of Lord Hawkeye or the one you called Avondale, but I do know that we only recently had word from Taggin, ruling knight of one of the southernmost keeps in Ergoth. He is alive and well.”

“Taggin? Alive?” As the Grand Master momentarily faltered, so too did the movement of the guards. It was as if they were extensions of his will.

Kaz suddenly eyed them more closely. Extensions of his will?

“Lord Oswal,” Kaz began, his eyes still on the other knights, “when we-when we buried Huma, you said the world needed heroes, which was why you had such an elaborate tomb built for him.”

The Grand Master seemed to slump a little. “I recall that.”

“I thought it more appropriate to honor him the way he would have wanted it, by a simple burial and a marker noting only his name.”

“The knighthood needed a standard. They, too, needed a hero.” The guards seemed frozen in stride as the Grand Master spoke of that time. “He was a cleric of Paladine in the end, you know. A just reward. He deserved it more than I ever did.”

“He truly lived up to the Oath and Measure, Grand Master.”

“Kaz.” The Grand Master took a step toward them.

Suddenly the loyal guards simply ceased to be. They were, as Kaz had surmised, phantoms. He wondered whether or not the knights combating the dreadwolves had been phantoms as well. Phantoms fighting phantoms.

Kaz bowed his head as the Grand Master approached.

His two companions had already done the same. “My Lord Oswal.”