"Why is it dark?" she asked. "I left a candle burning."

"I blew it out. We have to move, Lady," he said urgently, pulling her up from her pallet. "Don't," he hissed as she began chanting a spell. "No light. No damn fire. Give me your hand."

He took her down the passage out of the warrens toward Varan's chamber. Meisha could see a faint line of light beneath the wizard's door. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"Shh! They're coming," Talal whispered.

"The Shadow Thieves?"

"Them—Balram too. And his son. One big, happy clan again."

Meisha stilled. "Both of them? Why?"

"To make sure you're dead. We have to hide you. If they find out we kept you alive .. ."

"Wait." Meisha caught his arm, stopping him in front of Varan's chamber. "You said they never go in here. They're afraid of Varan."

Talal shook his head so vigorously Meisha felt it through his entire body. "He'll attack you again. They'll find your corpse, and it'll still be bad for us. Come on!"

"I won't touch anything. I won't disturb him." Voices drifted out to them from the warrens.

"They're gathering everyone together," Talal said, fear rising in his voice.

"Then we're out of time." Meisha hauled the door open. Ambient light from the room cast shadow pits on Talal's pale face. "I'll be fine," she promised. She reached out to ruffle his hair playfully, because she knew it would annoy him.

The boy darted away, snorting. "Oh, sure, rip my throat out then pet me like your lap dog. Don't fret, Lady, my manhood's unscathed. If you're going to do this, give me your boots before you go in."

"My what—why?"

"Just hurry!"

Rolling her eyes, Meisha pulled the buckles loose and braced herself against the door as Talal yanked off her thigh-length boots. Her stockinged feet instantly went frigid when they touched the floor.

"You're welcome," she muttered as the boy darted off down the passage in the direction of the voices.

Meisha pulled the door shut, sealing it securely from the inside. She stood a moment with her ear to the wood, listening for approaching footsteps, but she heard nothing. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the room and whatever doom might await her.

Varan was asleep. She'd looked in on the wizard from behind the door a handful of times since coming to the Delve, and each time he'd been awake and active, building his mysterious items. She'd never seen him at rest.

He lay in a half-slump in a corner, clutching sheafs of parchment in limp fingers, far away from the pallet Haroun had made for him. Meisha suspected he worked himself into exhaustion and simply collapsed wherever he happened to be sitting.

His pile of magic items had been depleted. Talal or one of the others had collected the tribute.

Moving along the wall, Meisha sat down a safe distance from the wizard. His breathing was deep and regular, but his arms and legs twitched erratically, like a dog in the throes of some disturbing dream.

"What are you seeing, Master?" she whispered aloud, knowing he could not hear her. "What is tormenting you?" Was it the fire beast? Meisha had always sensed a wrongness, a feeling of malevolence lurking at the edges of Varan's underground sanctuary, but remembering the ghost's warning and her own strange dreams, she felt the sensation intensify a hundredfold.

And now the Shadow Thieves were here. Meisha ran a hand down her back, over the ridge of healing flesh. She hadn't been strong enough to take them on when she was whole. She had no chance now. All she could do was pray to the Lady that Kall had gotten her message. The ghost had said only that he would deliver it. He hadn't appeared since to confirm or deny its receipt.

Sighing, Meisha traced a circle in the dirt and sediment in front of her. "Chareff." The familiar power kindled—the first spell she'd ever learned.

Always have a candle for the rats, Shaera had chided her.

She placed the tiny flame in the circle. Meisha lay down on her side, curling around the fire so she could watch Varan sleep.

He continued to toss and turn fitfully. Meisha bit her lip as she felt power stir anew, magic awakened by the wizard's violent trembles. It called to the sorcerous power within her, raking over her skin like hot coals. She shuddered.

Then why not end it? Give him a quick, merciful death.