"Good."

To the surprise of the minotaur soldier, the Nightmaster didn't seem the least bit annoyed by this intelligence. Indeed he seemed refreshed and returned to his work, writing vigorously in the margins of the book he had been studying.

The Nightmaster looked up. This time he did sound irritated. "Yes? Is there something else?"

"N-No, Excellency," stammered the soldier, then turned to go.

Good, the Nightmaster repeated to himself. The humans-from reports, accompanied by a dwarf and an elf-were on their way, and the kyrie had joined them. That last was unexpected. It would require some adjustment to his plan, but there was still time.

Behind him, Fesz and the other two members of the High Three nodded to each other. They trusted in the wisdom of the Nightmaster.

Behind them, Tas slept… with one eye open. Behind him, in her cage, Kitiara crouched, listening.

Day became night.

Tasslehoff awoke with a start, realizing that he had drifted off. Hours had passed.

The Nightmaster's sanctum buzzed with activity. Fesz and the other two shaman minotaurs were busily packing objects into small crates and rucksacks. A half-dozen minotaur guards had moved in closer and appeared to be waiting for orders. The Nightmaster, his long table swept clean of spellbooks and components, stood in the center of the camp, pointing and giving instructions.

The Nightmaster was dressed in full ceremonial garb, with clusters of feathers and bells hanging from his horned head like streamers, a dark red cloak thrown over his hulking shoulders.

"Hey, what's going on?" asked Tas good-naturedly as he strolled up to Dogz, who was busy packing his own belongings.

Dogz turned to the kender. "The Nightmaster says it is almost time," he said solemnly. "We are going to move to a new encampment during the night in order to conceal our whereabouts from the humans and kyrie who advance upon our location."

Tas digested this information. "Good idea," the kender said enthusiastically.

Spotting Tas, Fesz hurried over. The shaman's eyes glittered with excitement. "The Nightmaster has given permission for you to come with us," said Fesz. "You don't know what a rare privilege this is, for one of your race. Usually the only persons who are present at the spellcasting are the Nightmaster himself, the High Three, and the victim to be sacrificed. But he feels that a kender, a representative of a race known for its luck and good fortune-especially an evil representative-can only be agreeable to Sargonnas."

Tas's eyes darted to Kitiara. The female warrior was standing stock-still in her cage, eyes wide, one ear pressed against the wood slats, listening.

"I'm flattered," said Tasslehoff, puffing up with pride. "More than flattered, really. I'm bowled over. For whatever little part I am designated to play in the great drama to come, I am truly grateful. Indeed, I should like to personally inform the Nightmaster of my deepest gratitude."

The kender had already started toward the Nightmaster when Fesz grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back. "I don't think that this would be a good time to talk to the Nightmaster, when he has so many other important matters on his mind," said Fesz, lowering his voice.

"Oh," said Tas. "Good thinking."

The kender watched as two guards moved toward the slatted cage. They pulled Kitiara Uth Matar, kicking and screaming, out the door and proceeded to put chains on her legs and bind her arms with rope behind her back.

"If you think I'm going to let you sacrifice me to some stupid god of darkness-not to mention allowing some damnable kender come along and watch the entertainment-then you're in for a rude awak-"

The minotaur guards shoved a gag into Kitiara's mouth, cutting her off in midsentence. Tasslehoff regretted that, because he was curious to find out how in the world Kit thought she was going to be in a position to rudely awaken anyone, unless it were Sargonnas.

The Nightmaster had heard Kitiara's outburst. His back stiffened. Now he wheeled, enraged, and stalked toward the female warrior from Solace.

The Nightmaster spat angrily in Kitiara's face, losing his customary composure. "Spawn of slime! You are not fit to mention the name of the Lord of Dark Vengeance! You are not fit to exist in the same world! Soon you will die, and in death you will trade places with Sargonnas. You will be condemned to his world, while he will pass through the portal to our material plane!"

Fesz, Dogz, and the others stared, taken aback by the Nightmaster's vehemence. Hesitantly the minotaur guards finished blindfolding Kitiara, who continued to struggle futilely.

Tas was about to say something inappropriate when a new, unexpected voice sang out in the darkness.

"I expect the spell would be enhanced if your victim of sacrifice was less reluctant to die for the pleasure of Sargonnas!"

Raistlin! That was Raistlin's voice! Tas would recognize it anywhere, even here in the middle of this desolate place. Kit ceased struggling, indicating that she, too, recognized the voice of her half-brother.

But where was he? Raistlin was nowhere to be seen.

The guards gripped their weapons nervously. Dogz unsheathed his broadsword, his eyes darting around anxiously. The High Three grouped together, ready to cast a spell if need be.

At the sound of the voice, the Nightmaster had spun toward it but saw nothing. Tas could see the huge bull eyes of the high shaman, and he was surprised to see in them not fear or uncertainty but a glint of relief. It was as if the Nightmaster had anticipated this.

"Is that you?" rumbled the Nightmaster. "Are you the one they call Raistlin-the half-brother of this unruly female?"

"I am Raistlin," said the voice.

Tas looked all around, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out where Raistlin was hiding.

"Show yourself, then."

There was a low, dry chuckle, followed once more by the seemingly disembodied voice: "I think not."

The Nightmaster remained silent for several long moments. Tasslehoff was about to say something when the Nightmaster rumbled silkily, almost in a purr, "I understand." He gestured broadly. "You have made yourself invisible in order to penetrate the ring of troops. Bravo! I was wondering how you might do it. Are your companions far behind?"

There was a momentary hesitation from Raistlin. "I came alone."

"Good."

"Let my sister go. I will take her place."

Tasslehoff heard a muffled scream and turned around to see Kit trying to tear herself from the grip of the guards. The minotaurs looked a little uneasy to be in the presence of a voice that didn't seem to be attached to a body.

"Capital idea!" shouted Tasslehoff. "Hello, Raistlin. It's me, Tasslehoff! Did you get the magic message bottle?"

"Yes," said the Nightmaster, glancing over his shoulder and scowling at the kender. "It is a capital idea. But how do I know that you will keep your word?"

"How do I know you will keep yours?"

The Nightmaster pondered Raistlin's question. Fesz came over and whispered something to him. "Ah," said the Nightmaster. "Allow me to introduce Fesz, my senior disciple and the shaman of highest standing under me. Go to him, and he will bind your hands. After you have done that"-he signaled to the minotaur from Lacynos-"Dogz will take Kitiara to the perimeter of the camp and let her go. You have my word."

Dogz grabbed the ropes that bound Kitiara. The two guards, who seemed happy to be relieved of their role, stepped away.

"Fair enough," came Raistlin's voice, and as the words were spoken, Raistlin's slender form materialized beside Fesz. The shaman grabbed him roughly and lashed rope around his hands, pinning them behind his back.