"Come on. Let's give them the false trail," he hissed, turning to Bakali.

But the young warrior did not accompany him! Astonished, Iydahoe saw Bakali rise and step forward, exposing himself to plain view at the edge of the cliff. Then, before Iydahoe could do anything to stop him, the young warrior turned his face to the cliff and began to descend- straight toward the milling mass of the legionnaires and their Silvanesti allies!

Iydahoe lunged toward the cliff's edge, but his split second of astonishment gave Bakall time to slip down the steep slope, dropping out of the older warrior's reach. Below, legionnaires raised crossbows, drawing a bead on the young Kagonesti's unarmored back. Apparently oblivious to his companion above and his enemies below, Bakall resolutely worked his way down the precipice, choosing his toeholds with almost reckless haste.

Carefully creeping forward, Iydahoe peered through a narrow crack between two of the rocks at the lip of the cliff. He saw legionnaires with their crossbows sighted upward, yet for long seconds they held their fire. Iydahoe couldn't see Bakall, but from the lowering of the cross- bows, he deduced that the young elf had not been shot- for the moment, at least.

Only then did he hear the other voice-first stern and commanding, then softer, more convincing. Iydahoe saw the elven cleric he had observed earlier. Now the priest stood atop the seat of the wagon, addressing the legionnaires with words Iydahoe couldn't understand. Their captain and officers slain by the first of the elven arrows, the men-at-arms wavered between vengeance and the eloquence of the cleric's arguments. Ultimately they held their fire, watching carefully as the young warrior reached the foot of the cliff and advanced toward the Silvanesti who still exhorted from his wheeled pulpit.

Iydahoe's bow and the dozen arrows remaining in his quiver were forgotten in the wild elf's wonder at the scene below. He saw Bakali reach the side of the wagon, taking the cleric's extended hand to step upward. As the young brave disappeared into the curtained interior, the cleric shouted something to the legionnaires.

Another man emerged from a different wagon-Iydahoe felt a mixture of horror and fury when he saw the dark gray robes of a wizard. He was out of arrow range, or the elf would have shot immediately. The fellow set a small, iron brazier on the ground and squinted upward, beginning to chant something aloud.

Even at this great distance the wild elf felt the flash of cold recognition. This was the face he had seen on the robed rider, fourteen years before. Flinging himself flat on the rocks, Iydahoe took shelter against the unknown threat of magical attack. His mind seethed with the hatred that had so long burned for this magic-user, the man who had enabled the armies of Istar to reach the wild elf villages undetected. If there was one man, beside the Kingpriest himself, who was to blame for that butchery, Iydahoe knew this wizard was that killer.

The mage shouted something, his words crackling in triumph. Iydahoe, peering around the rock, gaped in astonishment as the wizard's pot of coals suddenly spewed out a great column of flame. The fire crackled upward and out, like a living being-a creature cringing before the commands of its human master. The twisting, blazing shape broke away from the brazier. The wizard shouted again, pointing up the bluff, and the fiery creature followed the magic-user's command. Bushes and trees crackled into flame as it moved, but the fire-being didn't pause. When it reached the base of the precipice, it began to surge upward, bounding with a series of uncanny leaps.

Abruptly the legionnaires kicked spurs to their horses, while the wagon drivers shouted, unsparing in the use of their lashes. Hooves pounding, wheels rumbling, the procession clattered along the floor of the gorge. Dust swirled into the air, pushed by the breeze into a choking cloud that billowed upward in the canyon like muddy water flowing through a stone-bound channel.

At the same time, fire crackled higher on the cliff side as the blazing monster flew upward. Dozens of newly- kindled blazes added to the smoke and terrified the horses. The first band of riders, less the several dozen who had fallen to Kagonesti arrows, galloped past, with the wagons clattering behind. Shortly afterward, the final rank of legionnaires came into view, staring with fear and fury at the cliff from which death had rained-and where, now, the animated figure of the wizard's fire reached the lip of the precipice.

Iydahoe was unaware of the fleeing legionnaires as the towering fire beast surged into sight. The creature had a broad torso mounted on a circular base of flame. Two blazing arms extended from its upper body, while a head-complete with two charcoal-black eyes-surmounted the entire horrific form.

The thicket concealing Iydahoe erupted into fire. Heat singed the wild elf's skin, raising blisters on his arms. Behind him, a dry tree exploded into flame, blocking the Kagonesti's retreat. With no alternative, the warrior raised the silver axe and lunged forward, slashing wildly at the belly of the monstrous creature. Surprisingly, the axe head ripped a great gash through the pillar of flame.

Then a fist of crackling heat smashed into the wild elf's shoulder, sending him staggering backward. With shocking speed the fire monster leapt-but Iydahoe flailed with the mighty axe blade, knocking the beast aside. More bushes ignited, and sweat dripped in the warrior's eyes. His retreat blocked by flaming brambles, Iydahoe again hurled himself at the blazing apparition, hacking with the axe from the right, from the left, then chopping with brutal, overhand slashes. Parts of living fire fell away, flickering weakly on the ground, and the elf pressed his advantage. Finally the monster broke apart, balls of oily fire dropping over the cliff, spattering into smoke on the rocks below.

The wild elf turned and sprinted through the blazing tinder, ignoring the sparks that stung his sltin, the blisters that had begun to ripple along his legs. Real fear gnawed at him. How could he battle a man who could wield the forces of the very elements themselves? At the same time, Iydahoe imagined shooting an arrow into the wizard, putting an end to his evil, and the thought brought his hatred to a tight, burning focus.

Iydahoe was as frightened by Bakall's strange departure as by the wizard's magic. The brave raced along the high ground, striving to catch sight of the procession. His chest rose and fell from the easy effort of his breathing, and finally he got a glimpse of the rear guard. From there he held a steady pace with his quarry, taking care to remain back from the lip of the cliff. Fortunately, the hastening procession made enough noise that he found that he didn't have to see it in order to follow it. Soon, afternoon shadows lengthened around him and, based on his limited experience with humans, he felt it likely that the Istarian party would soon camp for the night.

The power the cleric had used to compel Bakali mystified Iydahoe-and, he was forced to admit, frightened him more than a little. How could the wild elves fight this kind of magic? Yet he couldn't abandon the young warrior, not while there was a chance that he lived and could be rescued.

Another part of him could not deny a feeling, however slight, of gratitude. The mysterious elven cleric, after all, must have gone to great lengths of persuasion to spare Bakall's life. Why would he deprive the legionnaires the vengeance they so obviously had craved? Dozens of their number had been slain, and one of the killers had emerged into plain view. What sort of discipline could have held their hands? Another question arose, pestering: For what purpose did the priest want a Kagonesti prisoner?