“Thanks to you,” he said in Mandrian. “I—”

“So you are the eld of Lord Odfrey’s battle, the one Thirst knights have been boasting about these last few days,” the man in the shadows said. His voice had a deep, singsong quality that made Dain shiver. “I have been hoping to see you for myself, and now the gods have brought you to my workroom. Thus, it must be that our destinies are entwined.”

Frowning, Dain swallowed. He did not like the voice of this man. He kept hearing something, some timbre or tone that made him think of darkness and smoke. He wished he could see the man’s face, which remained hidden by shadows, but at the same time he felt relieved that he couldn’t. He wondered what this man was, and feared to learn the answer.

“Yes,” the man said, stepping forward with a gliding motion that did not seem natural at all. “You are going to be very useful for my experiments.” Instinct warned Dain that Mierre and Kaltienne were less dangerous than this man. As he whirled and tried to slide open the bolt, the man spoke a single word, a word Dain did not understand, a word like a puff of smoke.  The smell of fire filled the air, and Dain’s arms would not move. He realized he was frozen in place, as helpless as if bound by ropes. Fear rose through him. By some terrible chance, he had fallen into the clutches of a sorcerel, a creature who could crisp him to ashes with a mere thought.

Sweat broke out along Dain’s forehead. His heart was pounding again, and his mouth had gone so dry he couldn’t swallow. He stood there, struggling inside with all his might to break free, and could not move even the tip of his finger.  Someone knocked on the door. “We would enter, Master Sulein,” Mierre said boldly. “If you are within, grant us admittance.”

Sulein glided to the door beside Dain. This close, Dain could smell the man’s scent—something acrid and arcane on his clothing from the potions he concocted in this dimly lit room, but also something else, which emanated from his very skin, as though he ate odd things unknown to most folk.  The knocking came again. “Master Sulein! I bid you let us enter and take the eld.”

“Begone,” Sulein said. “You boys are forbidden inside my tower.”

“But, Master Sulein, we have been chasing the eld, at great risk to ourselves.