human

sacrifice, on top of Mayan temples, in Druidic torchlight rituals, in ancient

Egyptian rites and secret ceremonies in Restoration England. The very walls

seemed to throb with malevolence.

Wyrdrune simply stared at it with astonishment.

"You believe this?" Kira said. "Right out in the open, as if he didn't care

who

knew."

"He doesn't," Wyrdrune said, shaking his head.. "There's a level of arrogance

here that's frankly terrifying.

What does it matter what we know or what we think? We're only humans, after

all."

"Are we?" Kira said.

"What?"

"Are we still human?" she said. She glanced down at her palm, covered by the

fingerless black leather glove. "I mean, what the hell are you when you've

got

an enchanted runestone that's become a part of you, a stone that's animated

by

the souls of immortal archmages from the dawn of time?"

"Christ, at a time like this you start getting metaphysical on me?" Wyrdrune

said.

She looked up at him and grimaced. "Yeah, sounds more like something you'd

do,

huh? Come on, let's get the hell out of here and go find Modred. I think I

see

another stairway down at the end of the hall."

They went down the spiral stairs, passing some drunken party goers on their

way,

and came out in a small room at the side of the Great Hall. There was a bar

set

up in the corner, and a huge fireplace with a carved stone mantelpiece

against

the opposite wall. There was a large blond man in an ill-fitting leather

doublet

leaning on the mantelpiece, having a drink and talking to a pretty young

woman.

"Hey, isn't mat—" Kira asked.

"Our cabbie, Liam!" Wyrdrune said. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"Crashing the party, obviously," Kira said.

Wyrdrune rushed over to him. "Excuse me," he said to the young woman, "do you

mind if I have a word in private with my friend? It's about his wife and

kids."

She gave Liam a disgusted look and walked away.