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there was no other path. They had him now.
    Deep in the metallic forest, something howled. It was a harsh, alien sound with nothing human in it, but the pain and rage and remembered loss were clear enough. The horrid sound drifted through the trees, growing louder, drawing nearer. More voices rose on every side, the deafening chorus cutting at Silence like a knife, and he shrank back against the tree trunk even as he raised his gun in a futile gesture of defiance. Guns weren’t going to stop what was coming for him. Shadows moved in the swirling mists, circling him, and Silence caught brief glimpses of clawed hands and snarling mouths, large graceful forms and flat-planed gargoyle faces.
    He took aim at the nearest face and fired his disrupter. The crackling energy beam smashed through the alien face and shattered the tree trunk behind it. There was a harsh, rending sound as the tree slowly toppled overand crashed to the forest floor. Metallic shrapnel pattered down for some time, but there was nothing to show he’d hurt or even scared his enemy. He hadn’t really expected anything else. His enemies were already dead, ten years dead. They just wouldn’t admit it and lie down. Silence’s mouth twitched. They weren’t playing fair. Not playing by the rules. Except this was Unseeli, the world of the Ashrai, and they had their own rules.
    They were all around him now, the deafening howls rising and falling till his head ached from it. He knew what had come for him, even though it made a mockery of all sense and reason. The Ashrai were moving slowly, steadily, through the mists and the trees, circling, circling—all the tortured souls he’d damned and destroyed ten years earlier. Haunting him now as the memory of the awful thing he’d done had haunted him for so many years.
    The howling stopped, cut off sharply between one moment and the next, and an eager, expectant hush filled the forest. Silence struggled to sit up a little straighter, grimacing briefly as pain flared in his damaged ribs. He raised his gun and then lowered it again. Even if there’d been anything to aim at, the disrupter couldn’t fire again till its energy crystal had had time to recharge. There was still the sword at his side, but all he could do with that was fall on it himself, and maybe cheat the Ashrai of their vengeance. Except he couldn’t do that. It wasn’t in his nature to give up, even when the situation seemed hopeless. He drew his sword awkwardly, and glared defiantly at the curling mists. Something moved in the forest, not far away. Not far away at all.
    And then a man appeared suddenly out of the mist to stand at Silence’s side. Everything was still, Silence’s fate hanging in the balance, and then the pressure of countless watching eyes was abruptly gone, the mists and the forest empty. Silence let out his breath in a long, shuddering sigh, and put his sword down beside him. Sweat was running downhis face despite the cold, and he wiped it out of his eyes with his sleeve. He looked up at the man standing over him. The dark figure was tall and whipcord-lean, dressed in black leather and a billowing black cape. Carrion always wore black, like the bird of ill omen he was. He was carrying a long staff of polished bone, almost as tall as he was, but he held it more like a weapon than an aid to walking. His face was hidden in the shadows of his cowl, and Silence didn’t know whether to feel grateful for that or not.
    “Hello, Sean,” he said finally, and was relieved to find his voice was still calm and even. “It’s been a long time.” The figure stared silently down at him, and Silence stirred uneasily. “What’s the matter? Don’t you remember me?”
    “Oh yes, Captain,” said Carrion quietly. “I remember you. So do they.”
    “What are they?” asked Silence.
    “The past. Ghosts, perhaps.”
    “I don’t believe in ghosts.”
    “That’s all right,” said Carrion. “They believe in you.”

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