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fear. “He said they have the ability to turn men into golems. Is that true?”
    “They are not truly golems,” Lord Marcus replied, “although the Draco Magistris calls them such, and while Tiberius believes they are created through the Dark Sisters, no one truly knows how they come into being. In essence: Shadowmen are humans neither alive nor dead. They cannot die of natural causes, but neither can they heal from their wounds, and they can only eat the flesh of men and women, choking on any other food they try to eat. Also wine, or any other kind of alcoholic spirit, will poison them.”
    “Our blood’s like wine to them,” Captain Cholula said. “Shadowmen retain their wits and their earthly lusts, but they cannot be killed with ordinary steel unless hacked apart.”
    “Artifact weapons kill them,” Karl the Hammer said. His voice was rough, as if a stone were given speech. “They’re stronger than a normal man but slow, especially when the sun’s out. And their Dragon’s die like normal men, since a dragon-ghost can’t get strength out of a Shadowman.”
    I gaped at him. “You’ve fought them, man to man?”
    He nodded. “Captain Thorne, master of the ship ‘The Black Narwhale’, is reaving the seas around the Bahamas short a few crewmembers these days.”
    Captain Cholula’s face grew serious. “The next time we find them they’re going to join the ones we’ve already sent to hell.”
    Lord Marcus raised his hand in a calming gesture and Cholula subsided. “My dear Captain Cholula,” Lord Marcus’s face turning back towards mine, “was searching for them when I called her back to perform another duty for the order, one she is especially good at...as an Inquisitor.” The knot of fear returned three-fold, and must’ve shown on my face, for Lord Marcus laid a hand upon my shoulder. “Cholula is not an Inquisitor in the old sense, someone looking to purify the heretic’s soul by fire. Rather, she is as Inquisitor’s were meant to be: someone who investigates.”
    I nodded in understanding, and he took his hand away. But I was still concerned. “If I may ask, sir: why did you need to investigate St. Augustine in the first place?”
    “Why indeed? You see, when Master Gomez sent word of his dilemma, he knew we would never come to his aid out of the goodness of our hearts, much as we might like to. So he offered us treats to tempt us, starting with knowledge of the smuggling operations of his longtime rival, Master Mendez, whose assets we seized this afternoon.”
    Alfonzo glared at him. “St. Augustine depends on the goods smuggled in to survive. We’ll never make it only on what the Spanish merchants send us.”
    “Yes, yes, I know that. Why else do you think we have let it go on under our noses for so long? But the Spanish crown still has an edict against smuggling, and for now we are selectively enforcing it.”
    “Keeping the gold and goods for yourselves.”
    “Of course. Captain Alfonzo, we are a wandering order of knight-monks without any tax revenues to support us. But soldiers expect to be paid.”
    “Lord Tiberius won’t stand for it.”
    Lord Marcus chuckled. “My dear captain, I have done Tiberius a great favor. Some of his more far flung smugglers were becoming independent, like Master Mendez, and in one blow I have brought the rest of them scurrying back to Tiberius’s loving arms. He will commend me publicly for bringing this malefactor to the king’s justice while letting me know privately who his next merchant smuggler shall be, and I will make it a point to leave the man’s operations in St. Augustine alone. It is a game Tiberius and I have played for years.” He looked at me. “However, that was not the only treat Master Gomez offered us, for he knows we are always on the lookout for wild Dragons who will make good fighters.”
    Alfonzo whirled on Master Gomez, who’d placed himself behind the two soldiers with silver wolves on their breastplates. “You