He moved forward. As he advanced, he saw blastmarks, as though lightning had played about the place.

He halted when he saw the outstretched figure at the edge of the rubble. Then he rushed forward. With the point of his blade, he turned the body.

He dropped the blade and fell to his knees, gripping the mangled hand to his breast, a single sob escaping his throat. He heard the crackling of fires begin suddenly at his back, and he felt a rush of heat. He did not move.

He heard a chuckle.

He looked up then, looked all about him. But he saw no one.

It came again, from somewhere to his right.

There!

Among the shadows that moved on the slanting wall...

"Hello, Smage. Remember me?"

He squinted. He rubbed his eyes.

"I-I can't quite make you out."

"But I see you perfectly there, clutching the meat."

He lowered the hand gently and raised his blade from the flagging. He stood.

"Who are you?"

"Come find out."

"You did all this?" He made a small gesture with his free hand.

"All."

"Then I will come."

He advanced upon the figure and swung his blade. It cut but air, throwing him off balance. Recovering, he aimed another blow. Again, there was nothing.

He wept after his seventh attempt.

"I know you now! Come out of those shadows and see how you fare!"

"All right."

There was movement, and the other stood before him. He seemed for a moment tall beyond measurement, frightening, noble.

Smage's hand hesitated upon the blade, and the hilt took fire. He released it, and the other smiled as it fell between them.

He raised his hands and a paralysis overcame them. Through fingers like twisted boughs he regarded the other's face.

"As you suggested," he heard him say. "And I seem to be faring well. Better than yourself certainly.

"I'm pleased to meet you once again," he added.

Smage wished to spit, but he could summon no saliva; besides, his hands were in the way.

"Murderer! Beast!" he croaked.

"Thief," the other said gently. "Also, sorcerer and conqueror."

"If I could but move-"

"You will. Pick up your blade and cut me your carrion's toenails-behind the neck, of course."

"I do not..."

"Lop off the head! Let it be done with one, quick, clean blow-as by a headsman's axe."

"Never! He was a good Lord. He was kind to me and my comrades. I will not defile his body."

"He was not a good Lord. He was cruel, sadistic."

"Only to his enemies-and they had always earned it."

"Well, now you see a new Lord in his place. The means whereby you may swear allegiance to him is to bring him the head of your old Lord."

"I will not do this thing."

"I say that to do it willingly is the only means whereby you may keep your life within your body."

"I will not."

"You have said it. Now it is too late to save yourself. Still, you will do as I have ordered."

With this, a spirit not his own came into his body, and he found himself stooping, retrieving the blade. It burned his hands, but he raised it, held it and turned.

Cursing, weeping, he moved to the body, stood above it and brought the blade singing down. The head rolled several feet and blood darkened the stones.

"Now bring it to me."

He picked it up by the hair, held it at arm's length and returned to where he had stood. The other accepted it from him and swung it casually at his side.

"Thank you," he said. "Not a bad likeness at all." He hoisted it, studied it, swung it again. "No indeed. I wonder whatever became of my old one? No matter. I shall put this to good use."

"Kill me now," said Smage.

"I regret that I must save that chore for a bit later. For now, you may keep the remainder of your ex-Lord company here, by joining all but two others in sleep."

He gestured and Smage fell snoring to the ground; the flames died as he fell.

When the door opened, Evene did not turn to face it.

After a prolonged silence, she heard his voice and shuddered.

You must have known," he said, "that eventually I would come for you."

She did not reply.

"You must recall the promise I made," he said.

She turned then, and he saw that she was weeping.

"So you've come to steal me?" she said.

"No," he said. "I came to make you the Lady of Shadow Guard-my Lady."

"To steal me," she repeated. "There is no other way you may have me now, and it is your favorite way of obtaining what you desire. You cannot steal love, though, Jack."

"That I can do without," he said.

"What now? To Shadow Guard?"

"Why, Shadow Guard is here. This place is Shadow Guard, nor am I ever out of it."

"I knew it," she said, very softly. "...And you mean to reign here, in his place, who is my Lord. What have you done with him?" she whispered.

"What did he do with me? What did I promise him?" he said.

"...And the others?"

"All are sleeping, save for one who may provide you some amusement. Let us step to the window."

Stiffly, she moved.

He swept the hanging aside and pointed. Inclining her head, she followed his gesture.

Below, on a level place which she knew had never before existed, Quazer moved. The gray, bisexual giant moved through the elaborate paces of the Helldance. He fell several times, rose to his feet, continued.

"What is he doing?" she asked.

"He is repeating the feat which won him the Hellflame. He will continue to reenact his triumph until his heart or some great vessel bursts within him and he dies."

"How awful! Stop him!"

"No. It is no more awful than what he had done to me. You accused me of not keeping my promises. Well, I promised him my vengeance, and you can see that I did not fail to deliver it."

"What power is it that you have?" she asked. "You could never do things like that when I- when I knew you."

"I hold The Key That Was Lost," he said, "Kolwynia."

"How did you come by it?"

"It does not matter. What does matter is that I can make the mountains walk and the ground burst open; I can call down bolts of lightning and summon spirits to aid me. I can destroy a Lord in his place of power. I have become the mightiest thing in the dark hemisphere."

"Yes," she said. "You have named yourself; you have become a thing."

He turned to watch Quazer fall again, then let the hanging drop.

She turned away.

"If you will grant mercy to all who remain here," she finally said, "I will do whatever you say."

With his free hand, he reached out as if to touch her. He paused when he heard the scream from beyond the window. Smiling, he let his hand fall. The taste is too sweet, he decided.

"Mercy, I have learned, is a thing that is withheld from one whenever he most needs it," he said. "Yet when he is in a position to grant it himself, those who withheld it previously cry out for it."

"I am certain," she said, "that no one in this place has asked mercy for himself."

She turned back to him and searched his face.

"No," she said. "No mercy there. Once there was something slightly gallant about you. It is gone now."

"What do you think I am going to do with the Key, after I have repaid my enemies?" he asked.

"I do not know."

"I am going to unite the darkside, making it into a single kingdom-"

"Ruled by yourself, of course."

"Of course, for there is no one else who could do it. Then I am going to establish an era of law and peace."

"Your laws. Your peace."

"You still do not understand. I have thought of this for a long while, and while it is true that at first I sought the Key only for purposes of revenge, I have come to alter my thinking. I will use it to end the bickering of the Lords and promote the welfare of the state that will ensue."