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danger he was in—that his life could end at any moment—and the thought of her not knowing comforted him.
    He could almost hear her humming to herself as she worked in the garden . . .
    Nine notes . . . Seven notes . . .
    The dwarves have no doors . . . The dwarves are no more . . .
    Braun was smiling at him. “So you do know something honest after all! Tell me!”
    Drakis gripped his sword, pulling it from the scabbard.
    Braun anticipated the move. The Proxi ’s staff lashed out suddenly, gripped with both his hands. The shaft caught Drakis just behind the knees, cleanly sweeping both his feet out from under him. The warrior landed heavily on his back, the breath knocked from his chest. As he sucked in a painful gasp, the light from the headpiece carved a brilliant, blurred arc over him, and he felt the cold steel point of the staff against his throat. He fought for air, trying to speak, but the sound would not come.
    Braun leaned down, his head and shoulders silhouetted against the light from the Aether crystal on his staff.
    â€œWe’re empty rooms, Drakis, all of us,” Braun said in short breaths. “Nothing but the form of what our masters have molded us to be. But I’ve seen the reality of who and what we are. The walls have cracks, and the light shines through. The cords that bind us unravel, and we see at last that our rooms are not empty but filled with ghosts, Drakis—ghosts and demons more terrible and wonderful than we know.”
    Drakis reached up with both hands, gripping the staff at his throat. “Braun! Stop!”
    â€œI can’t stop now,” Braun answered, shaking his head with an unnatural smile. “You’ve got to see the ghosts! They’re waiting for us both—calling to us—longing to take us to a better destiny.”
    Braun looked up. The roof of the avenue was a great arched ceiling barely visible beyond the light from the staff.
    â€œThe ghosts come in the darkness,” Braun giggled. “Some things are seen better in the dark . . . some things are easier in the dark . . .”
    The glow from the staff began to fade. The impenetrable darkness slowly closed in on them again as the light shrank.
    â€œSoon your soul will be open at last,” Braun nodded, the features of his face vanishing into a vague shape as the light receded. “The ghosts will spill from you and you will see the vision.”
    Darkness enveloped them.
    â€œYou will hear the song!”
    Stars appeared.
    Impossibly, above him in the pitch blackness two-thirds of a league below the mountain, the night sky filled his vision.
    Nine notes . . .
    Come to us and bring our redemption . . .
    The stars shifted as he watched in slack-jawed wonder.
    Seven notes . . .
    Weep for the pain and the loss . . .
    He felt as though he were falling up toward them.
    Five notes . . .
    The past is our sorrow . . . The past is our shame . . .
    Faces started forming among the stars. Faces he had forgotten. Faces he once knew.
    Ghosts.
    Drakis screamed.

    â€œDrakis! Are you injured?”
    Drakis opened his eyes to see the faces of his Octian, lit by a single globe-torch, staring down at him.
    The human warrior sat up on the stones of the avenue and drew in a painful breath. “No, Captain ChuKang. I can fight.”
    The manticore stood up, pulling Drakis to his feet as he did. “We thought we had lost you, hoo-mani . There was a reserve of dwarven warriors waiting here when we came through the fold. I think they were more surprised to see us than we were to see them.”
    KriChan chuckled darkly. “They ran, but not fast enough.”
    â€œIt was a blessing from the gods,” ChuKang continued. “Chasing them down showed us the way to the causeway.”
    â€œAt least we thought it was a blessing,” Megri chimed in. The goblin was grinning as he picked at his fingernails with the point of his dagger, “until we realized the Proxi had gone