The lights grew larger as he neared them. Ahead was a hamlet, a collection of wood and stone buildings, likely the homes of some of the citrus workers or nearby farmhands. Lanterns were set on tables in kitchens or hanging from front porches. Swooping low, the hawk skimmed through the town and saw a few families gathered inside the buildings. The hamlet's residents were apparently oblivious to the presence of Szass Tam's undead army. No one seemed armed or nervous.

The hawk made another pass through the area, then soared back to rejoin the undead. Hovering above the saddle of the big mare, Galvin transformed once again. His claws lengthened, the yellowed skin turning to boots that fit neatly into the stirrups, the feathers melting away to reveal skin and his chain shirt. The horse began to bolt, but the hawk-man's wings receded, and human hands shot forward to grasp the reins and calm the skittish beast.

"There's a small hamlet ahead," Galvin said as he put on his chain shirt. He turned to Brenna and extended his hand for his close helm. The enchantress ignored his gesture and leaned over to place the helmet on his head herself. "Everything appears normal."

"Are we going to stop there and rest?" Wynter asked, overhearing the druid.

"No. We're going around it. No use upsetting the villagers. And no use alerting people who might be sympathetic to Maligor. It's bad enough to be by guards when we pass the orchards."

Galvin directed the undead in a broad arc around the settlement. It was nearly midnight by the time the army had circumvented the hamlet and was again on the road to the hills. For several more hours, the force continued to plod onward, the clip-clopping of the horses' hooves mingling with the tinkling of skeletal bones.

Shortly before dawn, the army reached the edge of a lime grove. The druid decided to camp here, since he, Wynter, Brenna, and the horses needed to rest. As the first rays of the sun peeked through the trees, the trio watched incredulously as the wraiths huddled near the ground, then appeared to seep into the very cracks in the earth. The druid wondered if the undead would stay there until dark or could travel underground.

Shortly before noon, the army started north again. The breeze had picked up and was coming from the direction of the far hills, carrying with it billowy clouds and the fragrant scent of lime blossoms. The druid sniffed the air.

"It's going to rain today, maybe in a few hours-sooner if the wizards decide to tamper with the weather," Galvin announced.

"What do you think we'll find at the mines?" Brenna posed. "Maligor may have been there for a day already."

"Maybe he's dead," Wynter speculated. "The mines are well guarded. The tharchion in charge is a man to be reckoned with."

"Maligor's alive," Galvin said finally. "I think Szass Tam would know if his rival was dead."

The centaur glanced back at the columns of zombies and skeletons. "In any event," Wynter said, "we'll know in another two or three days."

The Harpers and Brenna passed most of the day in silence, tolerating the midafternoon downpour and staring at the lush countryside, where apple orchards and groves of citrus trees dominated. In the distance, to the east and west, and in between the rows of fruit-laden trees, they saw farmland.

By sunset, the orchards were behind them, and they found themselves on a prairie dotted with waist-high wild flowers. Far to the east, Galvin saw a complex of buildings, which had to be immense considering they could be seen from so far away. Wynter explained that it was a slave plantation and most of the buildings were barracks for the slaves.

The army marched until dusk, when the buildings were lost from sight. After resting for several hours, they resumed the trek shortly before midnight, and by morning they were in the foothills.

"We've been making good time. Do you think we'll reach the mines by nightfall?" Brenna asked Galvin.

The druid was eager to find Maligor and finish Szass Tam's task. He pulled out the crude map, then glanced at it and the hills.

"I doubt it," Wynter interposed before Galvin could speak. The centaur had also been eyeing the hills. "We probably won't even make it by tomorrow morning-and that's provided the map is reliable. These hills, if I remember correctly, are riddled with caves. Finding the mine might not be easy. Then we have the undead to consider."

The enchantress looked at Wynter quizzically.

The centaur laughed and waved his arm, indicating the skeletons and zombies. "As difficult a time as I have dealing with obstacles and hills, they'll have a worse time. Their bony feet might have trouble finding purchase."

Brenna scowled. "It shouldn't be a problem in the low hills," she decided, pointing at the foothills, "but when we get farther up, maybe we'll have to leave some of them behind. Or maybe we can find a path with better footing. There's got to be a path or road leading to the mine."

Galvin was only vaguely paying attention to his friends' conversation. He had been scrutinizing the ground around the foothills, looking for tracks, anything to indicate that others had been this way within the past few days. However, he found only signs of small animals. The druid dismounted and led his big mare toward a dead tree at the beginning of a rise. Wrapping the reins loosely about a branch, he neighed and whinnied at the animal, instructing it to stay in the area until he returned.

"Time's wasting," Galvin said, starting up the low rise and motioning for Wynter, Brenna, and the undead to follow him.

The sorceress left her horse near his and sprinted to catch up. Wynter ambled behind them.

The low portion of the hills was much like a savanna, covered with grasses that stretched nearly three feet high. Trees were scattered over the hillsides, their trunks swollen with water and their leafy tops flat. Traveling was difficult because of the incline, and the heat was oppressive, causing Galvin and Wynter to shed their armor. They toted it behind them, bundled inside their cloaks. Bare-chested, they found the warmth easier to handle, especially when an occasional breeze whipped over the savannah, cooling them as it evaporated the sweat from their bodies.

Wynter explained as they traveled that the wizards had no need to make it rain near the mines, since the hills were devoid of crops. Still, the natural rains seemed enough to support the trees and grasses.

By nightfall, their course steepened even more, and Galvin located a wide, well-worn path with deep wagon ruts. Although the Harpers and Brenna were nearly exhausted because they had been pushing themselves so hard, they forced themselves to continue, climbing the steep slope, slowing only when Wynter had difficulty negotiating the sharper grades.

The vegetation had changed once again to resemble a montane forest, and the air was cooler at this elevation. The army pressed on until shortly before dawn, when the trees began to thin.

Brenna was pale from exertion, and even Wynter and Galvin were glad to stop and rest. The druid directed the undead to spread themselves out among the trees, hoping the cover would lessen their chances of being spotted by any patrols or by wizards magically scrying the area.

Lying down on the ground, under the shade of a thick-leafed tree he couldn't identify, the druid again studied the map. "These marks in the tunnel indicate something-maybe traps, maybe veins of gold, maybe guards. There are two large Xs right outside the mine entrance. I wonder what they indicate."

"Worrying about it won't get you an answer," Wynter said, stretching himself out on a large patch of soft grass and folding his hoofed legs beneath him. "Wake me in a few hours and I'll stand watch."

The enchantress settled herself next to the druid and eyed the map. Galvin rubbed her head. "You get some sleep, too."