I wakened in the alcove where Smoke used to be stored. It was dark. I had no idea how long I had been out. The meeting was over, that was certain. I did not hear a sound.

I started to clamber out of there, found I was incredibly weak. My legs betrayed me when I tried to stand. I pitched forward through the curtain masking the alcove.

There was a sudden mouselike scurry. I lifted my head. The little bit of light betrayed the rodent.

Thai Dei was stuffing papers back into piles while trying to appear innocent. Maybe he was. He could not read.

“There you are. I got worried.” He helped me up. “What happened?”

My knees were watery. “I had one of those attacks like I used to have when we were in Dejagore and Taglios.”

“Why did they... ? They all trooped out of here hours ago. Even the guards went away.”

“What time is it?” The meeting had begun early in the morning.

“Be sunset in an hour.”

“Shit. A whole day shot, then.” Thai Dei helped me stay standing. I did not shake him off. I looked for food. Food always helped after a long ghostwalk with Smoke.

This was not the same. At least cold, tough, burnt mutton did not help. And there was nothing else available.

What I wanted was something alcoholic. A few amateurs had arisen to take One-Eye’s place. Best known were Willow Swan and Cordy Mather, who had stayed around despite being free to go back north. Cordy no longer had that fire in his belly where the Radisha was concerned. But their product was no good. And, if I wanted some, I had to acquire it through intermediaries since we all had to pretend to observe the rules.

But I had a suspicion, of late, about where One-Eye could have hidden his manufacturing equipment. There was a small, reinforced cubby in my old dugout where I had kept the Annals and the odd private item. It had survived disasters unscathed. Mother Gota had helped build it.

We climbed up out of Croaker’s dugout, me still wobble-kneed and griping, “I wish the hell he’d move into the fucking fortress.” The experimentation was all over but our crowd was still scattered through the hills, roughing it. An hour of light remained. “Where is everybody?” I did not see a soul closer than the ruins of Kiaulune. That gave me a little shock of fright. Had I returned to the world I left when the seizure took me? Was I caught in another layer of dream?

“They all went away. Even the guards.” Thai Dei repeated the news as though he was talking to someone both deaf and dense. “Else I could not have entered the Liberator’s shelter.”

It had been a while since anybody called the Old Man that. “I take it Uncle Doj went to keep an eye on them.”

Thai Dei did not reply.

I headed for my former home. “Compared to the bunker we moved to over there this dump was a palace.”

Lady and the Old Man had turned my palace into a prison. The downhill side entrance that we put in for Mother Gota and Uncle Doj now opened into an exercise area fenced with captured spears. Lisa Bowalk lay in a cage there, muzzle on paws, exposed to the elements, dully resigned. The Prahbrindrah Drah paced, avoiding glittering spearpoints and the reach of the shapeshifter’s claws. He seemed patient, counting his condition only a temporary setback.

Neither Longshadow, Howler, nor Narayan Singh were outside. Singh’s absence was not surprising. He was punished if he ventured into the light. But the former Shadowmaster was not and he hated the darkness inside. He feared what might be lurking there.

The poor old boy had lost all his self-confidence. He spent most of his time shivering, rocking and whimpering to himself. He was losing weight. Which was hard to believe.

The stench was awful. Those people had no friends now. They lived worse than animals in the crudest zoo or feedlot. Passersby were encouraged to torment Longshadow and the living saint of the Deceivers.

Howler had not earned his final standing on Lady’s shitlist. He was treated with indifference yet fed the best table scraps.

Smoke would be inside somewhere, too. He and the prince were treated best. Bowalk was fed and otherwise ignored as long as she behaved.

A sign that could be read by only a few actually insisted that the Prahbrindrah Drah was an honored guest. Somebody’s little joke.

“A good storm would help with the smell,” I said. I glanced at the sky. Relief seemed unlikely anytime soon.

Thai Dei grunted. He raised a hand.

Something was up. He was on his toes, nostrils flaring. His head moved in little jerks as he tried to hear something.

I froze. This was his business. His expertise.

I heard it, too, now. Scratching from within the dugout. Months had gone by and still I had no clear idea why Longshadow and Singh remained among the living. They kept farting around, Croaker and Lady would regret not having disposed of them quickly.

Lady thought they might be useful. Someday. Somehow. Somewhere.

“Better find out what it is,” I said. With no enthusiasm whatsoever. This kind of thing always meant trouble. “What happened to Uncle Doj?” He might be handy to have around if something happened. I was not carrying anything but a little three-ball bamboo stick.

Thai Dei stepped over to the headquarters company woodpile now serviced by Shadowlander peasant contractors and selected a yard of kindling with a burly knot at one end. He gestured me forward.

I slipped down and yanked on the door of my former home.

Narayan Singh, the living saint of the Deceivers, tumbled into the twilight. He had been kept inside for a long time. He was naturally dark-skinned but had acquired a pasty, maggoty coloration. Maybe Lady was doing more than just keeping him locked up in his own filth. She could be subtle when she wanted. She just did not want that often.

Thai Dei bopped him on the noggin.

Poor old Narayan. His life had not gone well for a long time. And the son of a bitch had earned every second of pain. Bet his goddess snickered whenever she thought about him.

Half of his torment would be the waiting, knowing that someday Lady would take time to offer him some specialized, personalized, unloving attention.

“Let’s be real careful,” I told Thai Dei.

Thai Dei grunted. He wore the ultimate Nyueng Bao stone face. To Tan had not been forgotten.

“Don’t even think about it, Thai Dei. Lady would roast you. Besides, there’re more of them inside. And they’re all worse than Singh.”

I meant worse trouble but it did not turn out that way. Both Longshadow and Howler wore hobbles and metal gags. Longshadow had not eaten well since his capture. A starved sorcerer is a tame sorcerer, I guess. Covered with filth, Howler and the Shadowmaster barely had the strength to crawl into the light after they thought Narayan had opened the way.

Even famine had not yet tamed them completely. A point worth keeping in mind.

Thai Dei remarked, “They were supposed to seal off the kennel side.”

“Don’t look like anybody bothered. Keep an eye on them. Without breaking anything. Or anybody. I’ll be right back out.”

Thai Dei grunted again. In deep disappointment.

“We’ll get our turn,” I promised.

Smoke was still inside. He had looked so bad for so long he did not look much worse now. His clothing had decayed into rotten rags. He was chained. One chain trailed back into the darkness.

The others had been chained, too. The guys had shown that much sense before they took off wherever they went. Somehow, the villains managed to get loose. I wondered if they would have dragged Smoke any farther had they had the strength and time to manage a successful getaway.

Might have been amusing to watch them return to a world that had changed completely during their holidays.

I stepped over the little wizard, found a small lamp and got it burning. Except for the stink and mess everything was pretty much as we had left it. A ragged shawl belonging to Ky Gota still lay tangled on a three-legged chair liberated from Kiaulune ages ago. There was no evidence that the prisoners had spent any time in this part of the dugout.