Beside him, Krystin fingered her locket, anger and frustration overriding her fear of death. The mysteries of her past would go unresolved. Standing in front of Krystin, Myrmeen stared at the gauntlet in her hand. Her body quivered as she slipped her left hand inside the glove and felt a sudden surge of energy rush into her body.

The soldiers of the guard stopped four yards away. Several had raised their faceplates, revealing their inhumanity. They were Night Parade beasts, using the armor to disguise their true appearance. The sight of the glove on Myrmeen's hand made the soldier in the lead raise his hand and issue another command in their strange language.

The archers, she thought, and knew that within seconds she would be dead, her heart pierced by an arrow.

Instead, she heard the roar of thunder and saw a brilliant flash of light. Before her, the soldiers covered their eyes. She turned as the light, as bright and strong as an exploding sun, suddenly faded, and she saw that the archers had been incinerated. A hundred feet behind them stood three figures. One of them, a man, had red hair and spheres of flame for hands. Behind him were two others. Myrmeen recognized only one of them. "Lucius!" she screamed.

The mage's hand was upon the throat of a tall, dark-haired woman. His features were contorted in pain and he struggled to maintain his concentration. Although he had no weapon, he had his spells, and Myrmeen guessed that he had spoken all but the last syllable of a spell that would, if completed, take off the woman's head at the neck. Lucius's clothing was soaked with his own blood and he barely had the strength to stand. By threatening the woman, Lucius had turned the fire lord into a weapon for the humans.

The red-haired man turned and raised his hands in the direction of the second battery of warriors, those dressed in the armor of the local guard, obviously intent on burning them. Then the flames that had consumed his hands suddenly died away. His eyes rolled up into the back of his head, and he collapsed. Lucius stared at the doomed man in surprise. He had no idea what had caused him to fall like a marionette with cut strings. The woman Lucius held screamed and twisted out of his arms, no Jonger mindful of the mage's threat. She knelt beside her lover, taking his head in her hands. Her flesh suddenly became dark, covered with thick black hairs. When she looked up, her eyes were no longer human, but large, multi-faceted blood-red ovals, and her teeth were longer, sharper. She forced down the change and became human once more as she registered that her husband was alive but unconscious. She pointed at the soldiers who hesitated before the group.

"They are the ones who have deprived us of our homes!" she screamed. "They are the ones who have driven us into the light. Take them, damn you, and feed upon their souls!"

Near where the archers had been burned Myrmeen saw that the soldiers needed no further urging. She glanced back to where Lucius had stood and realized that the mage had vanished. Then there was no more time for conscious thought. The energy trapped within the gauntlet spread through her, infusing her with a rage that bordered on madness. She did not bother drawing her sword; she knew that the glove was all she needed.

Eight members of the Night Parade advanced on her, faceplates down to hide their deformities and protect their vulnerable flesh from the magic radiated by the gauntlet. Myrmeen was vaguely aware that there were others with her. From the edge of her vision she noticed Krystin and Ord, who battled the creatures that surged around her. Myrmeen thrust out her leg and tripped one of the creatures. She drove her hand through its chest, the armor collapsing inward to worsen the damage to its body. The monster shuddered once, then was still. Before Myrmeen could free her hand from the corpse, she looked up to see a sword descending at her neck. Another sword intercepted the first mere inches from her flesh, the impact strong enough to push the defending blade against her neck, leaving a small cut.

She looked up and saw Ord grimace as he kicked at the armored stomach of the monster that had almost taken Myrmeen's head. Another creature flung itself at Ord, impaling itself on his blade as they both fell to the ground, the monster on top of Ord and still very much alive.

"Mother, save him!" Krystin shouted.

Myrmeen ignored the girl, even though she had heard the creature's inhuman squeals and had seen it beat and claw at Ord, whom it had pinned down with its weight. Rage colored her thoughts, fueled by the gauntlet's magic. Ord had nearly cost Krystin her life. Let him fend for himself.

Screaming, Myrmeen turned her back on Ord's dilemma. She described a wide arc with her brilliantly glowing hand, forcing several of the creatures back, then she plunged the weapon into the back of another soldier's head, this one approaching Krystin with a drawn sword. The creature convulsed as she withdrew her hand. Spinning, she realized that the monster Ord had impaled now was poised to crush his larynx with its heavy, misshapen hand. Her murderous thoughts cleared. She knew she had to help Ord, but too much distance separated them.

Krystin, closer by two yards, screamed a curse at Myrmeen and leapt at the creature's hand. She grasped the monster's wrist as she flipped in midair and yanked the hand in the other direction. There was a sharp crack as the bones in the monster's arm snapped and the sword impaling it was dragged several inches through its gut. Myrmeen ran for them and punched her fist through the wailing creature's faceplate. The beast shuddered and died quickly. Myrmeen dragged the body from Ord as another pair of creatures glanced at each other, hesitated as if evaluating their odds of survival, then ordered their comrades to retreat.

Myrmeen watched the creatures run. With considerable effort, Myrmeen forced the gauntlet's flames to recede. The fighter helped Ord to his feet and Krystin sprang at her.

"Get away from him!" Krystin screamed. "You were going to let him die!"

Krystin shoved her mother out of the way and took her place beside Ord. Myrmeen knew there was no time to argue or explain; that would have to come later. She led the others from the field of battle. They passed through several winding side streets, then came to the place the group had designated as a rendezvous in the event that they were ever attacked. Shandower and Lucius had insisted on these contingencies whenever they left the safe house. They entered the boarded-up temple, and Myrmeen nearly wept when she saw Reisz and Shandower waiting.

"Give it to me," Shandower hissed, pointing at the weapon with his remaining hand. The smell of burned flesh came to her suddenly and she realized that Reisz had made a small fire that they had used to cauterize Shandower's wound.

Myrmeen looked down and saw her flesh beginning to melt, her skin fusing with the weapon. She yanked the gauntlet from her arm, restraining a scream as small sections of her flesh were torn away. Shandower grasped the weapon and threw it to the floor.

"It's meant for the other hand," Krystin pointed out as she saw Shandower slide his hand into the glove, "It won't-"

There was an explosion of blue-white light and, when it faded, the gauntlet was snugly fit upon Shandower's remaining hand. Somehow, the weapon had reconfigured itself.

"Lucius?" Reisz asked.

"I don't know," Myrmeen said. "I pray he survived, but his injuries were great. He vanished at the battle. We couldn't search for him."

"We also can't stay here," Shandower said. "You may have been followed."

"We weren't," Ord said confidently. "I was checking the entire time."

Shandower laughed bitterly. A few backward glances and the boy felt secure. Shandower had been deprived of the magic from the apparatus for less than an hour, and in that time he had been overcome with the old, numbing fears. For a brief time he was able to see the threat of the Night Parade for what it had been all along, an unstoppable nemesis, an enemy that he could hold at bay for a time but never destroy. Now that he had the gauntlet back, he realized he had been foolish to entertain such dark, hopeless thoughts. His nose itched, and he raised his hand to scratch it.