"Soothing death," the others echoed.

"We are the takers of souls, the shapers of destinies, the dark powers mortals fear. We are wraiths. And we hate humans because they are the possessors of life."

"Human life," the wraiths echoed eerily over and over.

"But we will help you humans," intoned a deep-voiced speaker. "The master bade us leave the caressing recesses of our graves to help you."

"Brenna! Galvin! I'm scared!" Wynter's voice cut through the haunting banter.

Galvin whirled his horse about and dug his heels in its sides to urge it through the crowd of wraiths. The stallion protested, feeling the cold touch of the creatures, but obeyed nevertheless. Galvin felt an unearthly chill as his mount passed near the bodies of several wraiths and finally found Wynter surrounded by a ring of the dark undead.

"Galvin?" Wynter whimpered.

The wraiths mocked the centaur, hovering around and above him, taunting him.

Galvin nudged his mount closer until he reached Wynter's side. His once-strong, confident friend was trembling and broken. Once again Galvin found himself wishing the plant had killed the centaur.

The druid growled defiantly at the disgusting undead creatures, thrusting out an arm in an attempt to push one aside. But Galvin's hand passed straight through the inky body. It felt as if he had submerged his fingers in an icy spring.

He growled again, this time his voice sounding more like a wild animal than a human, and the undead finally backed away.

"Take my hand, Wyn," the druid said gently, his emerald green eyes locked onto the closest undead. "Come with me." The centaur whimpered in fright, then followed Galvin timidly toward the front of the procession.

"You said you were here to help us!" the druid cursed at the undead. "Then help us. Leave Wynter alone!" He noticed the centaur relax a little as the forms dropped back several yards.

"They did as you said," Brenna whispered in surprise.

"For now, at least," Galvin observed. "Stay close to Wynter and keep moving toward the city." The druid slowed his stallion until the first few wraiths were even with him.

He glared at them and marshaled his fear of the strange creatures. "Maligor's army will be strong," the druid began. "How can you help us against the gnolls?"

"We drink life," one moaned. "We drink the essence of man, leaving behind only decayed husks. Husks to wither and crumble and blow away on the hot breeze. Husks to fertilize our graves." The creature held up its black hands, which appeared to have long talons. "We rake life, clawing, tearing, spilling life's blood on the ground, on us."

"Humans first," another added in a raspy whisper. "Always humans first because their life is so short and sweet."

"Sweet death," the assembled wraiths murmured.

Shivering from the cold air that surrounded the wraiths, Galvin left the undead to rejoin Brenna and Wynter.

The enchantress and the druid kept an uneasy silence for the remainder of the journey to Amruthar. The wraiths continued their frightening banter, making the pair wish Szass Tam hadn't sent these creatures along. However, some of their dialogue proved interesting and valuable. Galvin and Brenna learned that the wraiths, in life, were powerful, evil men and women who coveted wealth and authority and now were forever damned to be under the influence of Szass Tam. Most had died from the touch of other wraiths. Galvin was curious to find out if the lich had ordered these formerly living people to be killed because they had become an annoyance to the lich or because the lich desired more creatures. However, he decided against questioning the foul creatures. He didn't trust them, and he hoped to be rid of them soon.

The druid glanced at Brenna and saw her shivering. Reaching into his mount's saddlebag, he withdrew a blanket and passed it over to her. She wrapped it about herself gratefully.

Smiling her thanks, she dug her heels into her horse's side. They were beyond most of the farm land now and almost to Amruthar's walls.

The light from dozens of torches, spaced almost evenly in heavy iron sconces about the walls, played eerily over the stonework and softly illuminated the tent town full of peasants and merchants that stood beyond the city's gates. The people had spotted the army coming and were huddled near the massive gate.

Above, on the barbicon, scores of guards readied longbows and kept careful watch on the parade of undead. Also on the barbicon were a trio of scarlet-robed men-Red Wizards, no doubt, waiting to see if their enchantments would be needed to keep the undead at bay.

Despite the number of merchants, peasants, and guards, Amruthar was quiet. Only the occasional bark of a sergeant's orders cut the air.

Galvin and Brenna directed the army to march parallel to the city's wall in full view of the guards, as Szass Tam had directed. It was a show of force designed to keep the city's guards from interfering. The guards stood motionless as the dead soldiers passed by slowly, the clinking of skeletal bones against skeletal horses echoing hollowly off the wall.

Just outside the city stood Maligor's tower. Its top half was visible over the northwest barbicon of the wall. Galvin motioned the army quickly forward and urged his own horse into a gallop, knowing the tower's occupants must have been able to see them coming for miles and would be ready. He worried that they might be riding into a trap. Brenna urged her mare ahead, following on the heels of Galvin's mount and spraying dirt at the hurrying wraiths. The enchantress was trying to ride with minimal use of her hands, in order to keep them free to cast a spell if necessary.

The druid drew his longsword, which emanated a soft blue glow, revealing its magical nature, and he cried like a hawk as he charged across the main road that led to the western gate of Amruthar. The undead moved as quickly as they were able to behind him, but only the shadows and wraiths could keep pace. Brenna called for the skeletons to ready their weapons.

The tower stood back from the road. Only a few lights burned in the windows, and no more than a dozen gnolls stood at attention on the lawn. Behind him, Galvin heard the scornful laughter of the wraiths.

"Sweet death. We will give the gnolls sweet death!" one wraith cried. "We will open their throats and let the dog-men's blood pour over us. We will turn them to dust." The thunderous laughter of the undead rippled like a wave, unnerving the guards standing on Amruthar's western wall and frightening the gnolls, who were trying hard to stand their ground.

"Such a big army," mocked a wraith.

Galvin pulled back hard on the reins of the big black stallion in an effort to stop its charge. Dirt sprayed up all around him as the animal complied. Brenna tried to stop her horse as well, but she shot past the druid, finally halting only a few yards from the closest gnoll. It glared at her, waved its barbed spear, and shouted something in a language she couldn't understand.

The druid dismounted and rushed to Brenna's side, brandishing his longsword in front of him. The gnoll backed away reluctantly, baring its yellowed teeth like a cornered mongrel dog, and looked for support from its peers. Help wasn't forthcoming. At sight of the undead army, they, too, were slowly backing toward the tower. Galvin could smell the stench of the gnolls' fear, and he sensed their uncertainty. Gnolls were stupid creatures, but they possessed enough sense to know they couldn't stand up to hundreds of undead.

"Where are all of your brothers?" Galvin shouted to the gnolls, hoping one could understand him. There was no answer as the gnolls continued to back toward the tower. The druid couldn't tell if they comprehended his words, but he knew they understood the threat of Szass Tam's army. Galvin heard his soldiers move forward, their bones tinkling.