"This cannot be!" Frodyne screamed. Then she turned to glance at her mentor.

Szass Tarn's hands glowed a faint blue, his long fingers pointed at the ebon guardian. An evil grin played slowly across his face as he returned Frodyne's disbelieving stare. He flicked his wrist, and the guardian floated forward and came to rest on a patch of rock near Frodyne.

"You! You kept it from becoming trapped!" she cried, as she twisted to the side to avoid another blow.

The lich nodded and thrust his hand into the air, mentally summoning an ancient parchment that lay in his tower. His fingers closed about the curled scroll as the guardian reached for Frodyne. Staring at his terrified apprentice, Szass Tarn carefully unrolled the parchment. "I promised you immortality, my dear, a reward for your loyalty. You shall have it."

The lich began to read the magical words, and the construct grabbed Frodyne about the waist. Szass Tarn read faster, while the construct lifted her until she was level with its four eyes. The lich finished the enchantment as the guardian squeezed the breath from her lungs and dropped Frodyne's lifeless body like a child would discard a ruined doll.

The parchment crumbled in Szass Tarn's fingers, and his apprentice's dead body shimmered with a pale white glow. A moment passed, then Frodyne's ches* rose and fell. She took great gulps of air into her lungs and struggled to her feet. She glanced at her mentor, then at the construct, which again reached out to grab her. The thing's fingers closed about her once more and squeezed harder, and Frodyne realized what Szass Tarn had done. He had given her eternal life-of a sort.

"No!" she shouted as her ribs cracked and she fell lifeless a second time.

The construct stepped back and waited. Again, the young Red Wizard was resurrected from the dead. Again she struggled to her feet.

"Enjoy your immortality, Frodyne," the lich hissed, as he watched the guardian deliver another fatal blow and witnessed her rise again. He was pleased Leira's construct would busy itself with Frodyne and leave him alone.

"The relic," the lich pressed the spectre. "Show me where the crown is."

The spectre gestured to a stony recess. Szass Tarn strode to it and took in the mounds of coins and gems. Perfectly faceted emeralds, sapphires, and diamonds glimmered from every cranny. A crown dotted with rubies sat atop the mass. The lich quickly snatched it up and felt the energy pulsing in the metal band.

"Leira's gift," the spirit declared. "The prize of our temple."

Stepping from the alcove, Szass Tarn placed the crown upon "his head then doubled forward as pain shot through his chest. The lich was caught off guard by the icy hot sensation. He pitched over and writhed on the rocky chamber floor until his frantic movements knocked the crown free.

The painful spasms ended, and the lich slowly stood. "What manner of power was that, priests?" the lich gasped.

The spirit wore the face of the old woman. 'The power of eternal life. The heart of he who wears the crown will beat forever."

Szass Tarn's human form melted away, revealing his skeletal frame and pinpoint eyes. "My heart does not beat," he said flatly.

"So instead, you felt pain," the woman answered. "The Lady of the Mists is indeed more treacherous than you. Leira lured you here. The priest who tempted your favored apprentice with the relic was merely a pawn."

The lich kicked the crown across the floor and glared at the spectre.

"Again the Patroness of Illusionists and Liars struck when your apprentice betrayed you and sought the crown herself. Then my goddess triumphed once more when you lost that which you held dear, a beautiful sorceress who would have spent eternity at your side." The ghostly image pointed at the struggling Frodyne. "You've lost your army, your woman, your ability to trust others. And the prize at the end of your quest was something you can never possess. Who is the more treacherous, Szass Tarn?"

The lich threw back his head and laughed, a deep, throaty sound that reverberated off the walls of the cavern. The lich roared loud and long as he padded from the chamber and climbed the stairs.

Mary H. Herbert

The water of Lake Ashane lay far below Teza's feet, as hard and dark as a sheet of black glass. No wave rippled its smoothness; nothing could be seen beneath its glistening surface to indicate the depth. Not that depth really mattered to Teza. She could not swim, and no one had ever measured the bottomless depths of the Lake of Tears.

The young woman forced her terror back and stared up the length of her outstretched arms to the frayed bit of rope that prevented her from plunging into the lake so far below.

"Please," she whispered in agony. Her arms felt like melting lead, and her body seemed to grow heavier by the second. There was nothing beneath her feet to catch her weight-nothing but air and that terrible fall to the water. Teza stilled a sob. She hated water.

The young woman looked higher into the eyes of the creature who dangled her so carelessly over the edge of the high cliff. He was blacker than night's shadow, hungrier than a shark, and more beautiful than the most exquisite horse Teza had ever seen. Some people said the rare predatory water horses, the aughiskies, did not exist, but Teza would have been delighted to trade places with any of those doubters just to prove them wrong.

A tense stillness closed around her. There was only her hoarse breathing, which rasped like a threnody behind the beating of her terrified heart. She sensed a scream well inside her from the depths of her mind, and it spread outward to her heart, lungs, throat, and mouth until she nearly burst with the primal terror within her.

The aughisky's eyes glowed green with their own cruel fire. Deliberately he shook the rope attached to his bridle. Teza slipped downward. Her face turned white, and her features screwed into a mask of panic.

Suddenly he wrenched the rope out of her hands, and Teza began to fall.

The scream so tightly held burst loose in a horrible, rending shriek of protest. "NO!"

Teza bolted awake to the sound of her own voice. Blackness enveloped her, and she tore frantically at the blanket that covered her head. Panting, wet with sweat, she scrambled out of her rough bed and crouched like a cornered beast by the embers of her campfire.

Close beside her, head hung low to see her, stood the aughisky, blacker than the night around him. His large eyes gleamed a ghastly light, and he watched her with an uncanny intelligence she found disconcerting. He snorted, a noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

"Oh, gods of all!" Teza gasped and collapsed to a sitting position by her fire. She heaped wood on the embers until the flames roared, but the heat and light did little to dispel the cold fear that settled in her bones from that terrible nightmare. It had seemed so real!

What am I going to do? she thought. Over a year ago, she had fled Immilmar with a price on her head and a stolen aughisky in her keeping. Since that time, she had hidden in the wild lands-far from the city she loved and the lake that nourished her horse. They had scraped out a meager living, but Teza was sick of the struggle, and she could see the aughisky was not thriving.

What he felt about their circumstances, she didn't know. She never knew what he was thinking. Teza usually had a close rapport with horses, and she loved this glorious black animal with a passion she had never felt for another beast. But he remained aloof, unfriendly at times, watchful, and distrustful. She knew he could not leave her voluntarily, nor would he really try to drown and eat her because of the spell of binding she had placed on him with a hippomane. Yet he always seemed so cold and distant.