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unwittingly made in his last words to her.
    I'll be thinking about you every moment until I see you again . It was not until many years that her image deserted him, had left in the face of the horror his life had become. Where once his heart was a holy shrine to her memory, now it was a dark and twisted place, touched by the hand of evil. Emily's memory could no longer remain in such a charnel house. He had no idea why she had been able to return this night, lingering lightly on the smoke that had risen up from the firegrate and wrapped itself behind his eyes.
    VII he thinking about you every moment until I see you again.
    Th image in the distance grew dimmer. Ashe roiled, grasping again at the
    •n his memory as she began to disperse, calling to him as she left. T love you, Sam. I've been waiting for you for so long. I always knew you would corne to me if I wished for you .
    Ashe sat up, sweat pouring from his clammy skin, wrapped in the cool vapor f the mist cloak, shaking. If only the same magic had worked for him.
    Firbolg guard standing watch at the hallway's end nodded deferentially to Achmed as he emerged from his chamber and made his way down the corridor to Rhapsody's room. He knocked loudly and swung the door open, part of the morning charade performed for the benefit of the Bolg populace, who believed Rhapsody and Jo to be the king's courtesans and therefore left the women alone.
    Both Achmed and Grunthor derived great amusement from the smoldering resentment they knew this survival game stoked in Rhapsody's soul, but she had adopted a practical attitude about it, mostly for Jo's sake.
    The fire on her hearth was flickering uncertainly, mirroring the look on her face. She did not look up from the scroll she was poring over as he entered.

    'Well, good morning to you, too, First Woman. You're going to have to work a little harder at this if you're going to convince the Bolg you're the royal harlot."
    'Shut up," Rhapsody said automatically, continuing to read.
    Achmed smirked. He picked up the teapot from her untouched breakfast tray and poured himself a cup; it was cold. She must have been up even earlier than usual.
    'What Scum-rian manuscript are you reading this time?" he asked, holding the tepid tea out to her. Without looking up, Rhapsody touched the cup. A moment later, Achmed felt the heat from the liquid permeate the smooth clay sides of the mug, and took a sip, making sure to blow the steam off first.
    ' '''The Rampage of the Wyrm . Amazing; it just appeared out of thin air under my door last night. What an extraordinary coincidence."
    Achmed sat down on her neatly made bed, hiding his grin. "Indeed. Learn anything interesting about Elynsynos?"
    Finally a small smile crossed Rhapsody's face, and she looked up at him. "Well, let's see." She sat back in the chair, holding the ancient scroll of parchment up to the candlelight.
    'Elynsynos was said to be between one and five hundred feet long, with teeth as long and as sharp as finely honed bastard swords," she read. "She could assume any form at will, including that of a force of nature, like a tornado, an earthquake, a flood, or the wind. Within her belly were gems of brimstone born in the fires of the Underworld, which allowed her to immolate anything that she breathed on. She was wicked and cruel, and when Merithyn, her sailor lover, didn't come back, she went on a rampage that decimated the western half of the continent up to and including the central province of Bethany. The devastating fire she caused lighted the eternal flame in the basilica that burns there to this day."
    'I detect a note of sarcasm in your voice. Do you reject this historical account?"
    'Much of it. You forget, Achmed, I'm a Singer. We're the ones who write these ballads and this legend lore. I'm a little more versed in how it can be exaggerated than you are."
    'Having done so yourself?"
    Rhapsody sighed. "You know better than that. Singers, and especially Nam-ers, can't make up a lie