1

"It's me, Keeper Dearbhaile, Carter," I said, confused.

"That be an odd name," she said. "Tell me, Keeper Dearbhaile Carter, where be we?"

"No, no. I'm Carter. You are Keeper Dearbhaile. What's wrong?"

"Okay, you are Carter. Ye still have nae answered me question: 'Where be we?'"

"We're in a forest about a day's travel north of the Vaush-Tauric's palace."

"What be a Vaush-Tauric?"

"A channel of some kind to the draconic gods," I said, as something dawned on me. "Do you know what happened to us?"

She shook her head. "Nae."

"What do you remember?"

She thought for a while. "Opening me eyes an' seein' ye leanin' over me, then askin' ye who ye were."

"Fuck," I muttered. "What about before then?" I said a little louder.

She pondered for several minutes more. "Nothin'."

"Well, this is just flipping wonderful!" I muttered.

Tears welled up in her eyes. "I be sorry, Carter," she said. "I dinae mean tae upset ye."

"Whoa," I said. "You are not at fault at all. I'm sorry I caused you to think that." I tugged her over and wrapped my arms around her. "We'll figure something out."

"How?" she cried.

"You are one of the smartest people I've ever met, and I've heard, once or twice, that I am kind of smart, too. I'm sure if we put our minds together, and search for a solution, we'll find one."

"But, I'm nae even a whole person," she said, plaintive. "O' what aid can I be tae ye?"

"Lacking your memory in this case isn't as bad as you might think."

She pushed away and looked me in the eyes. "Why?"

"Before you lost your memory, you were upset with me because I was acting like an ass to you. My pride wouldn't allow me to shut up and listen to your wisdom."

"Ye would listen tae me now? Why?"

"Now I have something more important than my pettiness in front of me, reason begins to reassert itself."

"So, what be more important tae ye than yer pride?"

Without thinking, I blurted, "You are."

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine in a feather light kiss, surprising both of us. She pulled back. "I be sorry, Carter. I do nae what came over me, just then."

"I-it's," I stuttered, my mind scrambled. "D-don't let it worry y-you."

"Are ye okay, Carter? Ye are nae speakin' like ye had been."

A big goofy grin spread across my face. "I've never been kissed before."

"Oh? Did you like your first?"

"I did," I said with a wide smile.

She giggled. "Good."

I rose and reached out to her. She clasped my hand as she got to her feet and we headed off into the brightening day, hand-in-hand.

2

Around mid-day, we came to a swift moving brook. We stopped to drink and refill our water skins.

"Where do we go from here, Carter?"

I pointed across the running water. "That way."

"What be in this direction?"

"I don't know. Something is pulling me in that direction."

"Okay," she said.

"Tell me something."

"If possible. Remember, me memory has nae come back yet."

"This is something recent."

"Alright. What be yer question?"

"Why are you traveling with me? Not that I don't want you to, I'm curious as to your reasons. As you say, your memory isn't back yet."

"True. However, somethin' within tells me tae trust ye, so I do."

"Fair enough," I said. "Thank you for that trust. Shall we proceed?"

At her nod, I swept her off her feet and carried her across the brook. She giggled and wrapped her arm around the back of my neck. As we reached the other side, and I had my foot on the bank, I detected an unfamiliar, yet not, voice. "Aw, isn't this cute?"

I glanced over and spotted a petite girl about my age. Her tousled brown curls danced in the breeze. She was slender with short, thick hands which looked as if they hit a lot of things on a frequent basis. Something about the way she stood made me think she knew how to fight with her body. Her weight was balanced on the balls of her feet, knees bent, elbows cocked, and ready to throw blows. Piercing dark brown eyes danced between me and Dearbhaile.

Next to her was an ebony scaled monstrosity which could only be a demon with a pair of forward-growing horns above its eyes and short horns growing upward from its forehead. Evil radiated from the demon's hate-filled visage. He leered at us, revealing a mouthful of jet teeth. A serpentine tongue slithered out of its mouth. He, too, seemed ready to fight.

As I set Dearbhaile on the ground and moved her behind me, I perceived the unnatural beast wore a sheathed white sword at its side. The demon's interested crimson eyes watched my movements. I drew my sword, the familiar coldness racing up my arm, across my chest and into my stomach. 'Interesting development.' The monster's eyes brightened and the twisted face grew even more hate-filled if possible. The demon looked at its side, then back at the blade in my hand.

"Impossible," he hissed.

"What?" said the girl in a distinct feminine voice.

The demon pointed at me. "Somehow, this elf-lover," the monster all but spat this last, "has an identical blade to my own." To me, he snarled, "Where did you get the weapon?"

Before I could answer, the mysterious, yet recognizable, girl interrupted, "Take the sword from his corpse. Who cares where the thing came from?"

While the odd pair was distracted, I whispered to Dearbhaile, "Run and hide. I'll keep these two occupied."

"Be careful, Carter," she said before disappearing.

I refocused my attention on the other two and discovered them watching as Dearbhaile was enveloped by the verdant forest. I raised my sword and pointed the white blade at them.

"I'll give you one chance to explain why you want to kill us," I said, my tone icy.

The girl smirked. "Lord Drago's orders, of course. Where's Angriz?"

"For fun," the demon said with a depraved grin.

"Who?" I said. "What?" 'Talk about confusing.'

"Would you explain?" She said, sweet voiced, to the demon.

He gave a smile to terrify the blind and nodded. "Lord Drago has commanded all elves, their lovers and intimates be killed for their underhanded, depraved slaughter of his family, and in particular, his unborn son."

I didn't understand why, but something about this struck me as false. Maybe because the words came from a demon. Maybe because it didn't sound like something that elves would do. Either way, I called him a liar. The hell spawn drew his white sword and charged.

I slid back in the water of the brook, and held my own snowy blade up in a ready guard position. When he got within reach, he swung his sword at my head. I ducked and kicked his hip. Off balance, the demon crashed face first in the brook sending water splashing up. Feet pounding grass alerted me that the girl was attacking. I rolled to my left and to my feet.

Both were in the brook. The girl was on the demon's back. They scrambled to their feet and separated; movements more cautious. 'The demon's going to attack first.'

He charged again, proving me correct. Something made me meet his charge. We met on the soft riverbank, both of us swinging with all our might. Our identical swords collided with a thunderous explosion, throwing all of us. I realized I'd blacked out when I opened my eyes. Brown branches and green leaves sliced the sky into chunks.

The scrapes and cuts from the fall sang. I sat up, and more branches dug at my flesh. I got to my feet, cussing at every new scratch and scrape. Something nagged at me, but I wanted to find out why I was in a bush. I spotted the black scaled demon across the meadow, and things clicked. A memory of a fight with this being before: 'His sword slashed on a diagonal from his right to his left. The cut would have cleaved me in two, but I took a long, quick step to my right and twisted my body to my left as I brought my sword across the back of his neck. The step, twist of my body and the strength I put into my strike served to remove his head from his body.'

I tore through the bush and stepped out. "Belial," I growled.

"You can say my name. I'm so glad," the half-demon demon purred in his honey-over-gravel voice. "What is your name Elf-lover?"

"Carter Blake."

"Hmm. Why do you think you should fight me?"

"I've beaten you. What are you doing here?"

"No." He shook his head. "That is quite impossible, Carter Blake."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why is that?"

"You're too weak. How about we kill him, dear Sera?"

I was confused by his confidence that we hadn't battled before when I had defeated him. And, I couldn't figure out why he lived after I already cut his head off, but maintained my poker face. 'Call the sword,' an inner voice suggested.

'What?' I thought.

'Call. The. Sword.'

The inner voice seemed certain, so I shrugged and did as suggested. I held my hand out and thundered, "Come to me!"

Seconds later, a whistling pierced the air and the snow white sword slapped into my palm, hilt first. My fingers curved into a firm grip. I swung the sword up and around even as the usual coldness shot up though my hand, up my arm, down my chest to my stomach where a ball of ice formed. I pointed my blade at the girl named Sera. "You first."

I tried to maintain my outward composure, but my heart thrummed, making my body vibrate with the adrenaline flowing through me. Sera tilted her head to the left, causing her neck to make a popping sound. Then she interlaced her fingers and stretched her hands out towards me, causing her knuckles to pop. I waited; my balance on the balls of my feet, my limbs loose. She screamed a battle cry and raced at me. She leaped into the air, and my Moment of Prescience kicked in.

The world slowed to a stop and I foresaw how Sera would attack. She was going to hit me in my chest with both of her knees, driving me to the ground; rain elbow strikes down on my skull as I lay stunned. The world snapped back to normal.

I ducked under her leap and, reaching up, caught her for a brief moment in my arms. Using her momentum, I launched her overhead. As she rolled to her feet, the world slowed in an abrupt fashion once more. Belial kicked me in the back of my head. As I reeled forward, Sera leaped up and nailed me in my head with her knee. The sudden stop and reversing of my momentum broke my neck. The world snapped back to normal speed once more.

I ducked and spun to my left. I spotted the half-demon's outstretched foot out of the corner of my eye as it went past where I had just been standing. I continued my spin and struck Belial on his supporting knee with the sheath of my sword. The stiff leather was as hard as oak. His knee buckled, sending him crashing to the ground. Sera attacked again, rushing forward with elbow and palm strikes. I was able to either dodge or block them with my sheath. I spotted Belial rising behind her, his attention locked on something other than me. I then discovered he had his focus on Keeper Dearbhaile.

I stepped forward and threw my sheath. The girl leaned to her right and it flipped end-over-end past her head.

"You missed," Sera gloated.

Right as the sheath collided with the back of the half-demon's skull, I said, "No, I didn't."

She turned in time to view Belial going down once more. 'Perfect.' I took another step forward and swung my sword from behind me. Something had me turn my sword a quarter turn so the flat of the blade slammed into the side of her head as she turned back to me. Her eyes rolled back and she slumped to the ground without a sound.

The half-demon rose to his feet with a roar of rage and came at me. I leaped at him just as ferocious. When we were close enough, we both launched our swords at the other's body, looking to end the fight with one blow. Our swords came together in such a violent clash that mine shattered and we were both knocked back a few steps. I recovered an instant before he did, so I threw the useless hilt of my busted blade and hit him right between his eyes. He dropped his sword, dazed for a moment. I charged him, certain of my impending victory. I launched a punch, thinking I would be able to knock him out like I had the girl.

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Belial shook his head and caught my fist in a meaty hand. He lifted me in the air with as much effort as I would a pound of sugar.

"Playtime is over, Carter Blake," he growled in his odd honey-over-gravel voice.

I struggled to no avail; he had me in too tight a grip.

"You're not going anywhere," he continued.

"I see that," I said. "What do you think of this?"

Before he could answer, I kicked my right foot out and into his throat. He staggered for a second, holding his esophagus with his free hand, but did not turn loose. He straightened, still massaging his neck.

"You'll pay for that, Carter Blake!" he rasped, sounding like a bullfrog with laryngitis.

"Ah! What dulcet tones!" I cried, trying to stall for time. I was desperate in trying to think of a way out of this predicament. "I'm so glad I was able to fix your voice for you!"

"Keep laughing, Carter Blake. I hope you can laugh as much when you are dead!" He growled.

"Freeze" I bellowed.

The half-demon son of Lucien froze in surprise.

"I cannot believe this!" I continued. "Are you that much of an idiot, for real?"

"What?" He snarled.

In my head, I snickered at the change I had wrought in his speaking. Aloud, "Are you sincere in your hope I can still laugh when I am dead? Holy crap!"

I almost bit my tongue off when he shook me. "I'm going to enjoy ripping your heart out."

"Wait! You don't want to do that!"

"Oh, I think I do."

"No, you don't."

"Oh, yes."

"Nope. You don't."

"Yes, I do."

"No. You. Do. Not."

"Why not?!" He shouted, shaking me so that my teeth clicked.

"Because," I said.

"Because why?!"

"Because you forgot."

"What did I forget?!" He roared, his anger unhinged.

"You forgot the bounty."

"No I didn't."

"Yes, you did." I spat the words like a machine pistol shooting bullets.

"No. I. Did. Not!"

"Alright," I said, as if I had given up the argument.

"At last," he said with exasperation. "I thought you'd never shut up."

"I guess someone else will get all of those tasty souls," I said.

He bellowed at me, enraged. He drew back a massive hand, fingers tipped with sharp looking claws, and the world slowed. Behind Belial, Keeper Dearbhaile stepped from behind a tree, shouted something and slapped her hand to the ground. Waves of ice radiated out from her hand and raced up behind the half-demon. The rime ran up his body, encasing us.

The world snapped back to its normal speed, and I exploded into action. I thrust my feet up and slammed them into Belial's face. At the same time, I pushed myself out and backwards from him. As I rotated upside down, Keeper Dearbhaile shouted.

"EZEERF!"

Seconds later, I was on my stomach on the ground and the half-demon was frozen solid. I rose, on shaky legs, to my feet and looked at him. He was a deep blue color now. Icicles hung from the tips of his horns and claws. He still had a swatch of my clothes in his fist. I picked up his sword from where it lay and gasped as the icy coldness shot through my hand. I looked down at the broadsword which was the pure white it had always been. I scooped up my sheathe, slid his sword in, and hung both at my left hip. Keeper Dearbhaile came up to me and I placed my arm around her shoulders.

"Carter, do ye understand how I was able tae do this?" she asked.

"You are a mage," I said. "I don't comprehend enough to explain further."

"Why did these two attack ye?"

"They were sent by someone called 'Lord Drago'.

"Who be that?" she asked.

"I don't know," I answered. "I think we should continue our journey as quick as possible, though." A thought came to me and I stepped away from her. "Before we do..." I continued, and drew the white blade.

Again, the icy coldness shot through my body. This time, the frigid temperature also ran down to my hips. Ignoring the cold as much as possible, I raised the sword up and appraised it in the afternoon light. The white metal gleamed in the sunlight. I held the most magnificent weapon I had ever seen. After deep breath and pushing Keeper Dearbhaile behind me, I twisted my body back to my right, then whipped back around, the blade leading the way. The pure white sword impacted the frozen form of Belial, son of Lucien and Zatanna, the Lich Queen of Amcorath, which detonated as if it had been filled with plastic explosive. Sheathing the white blade once more, I turned back to Keeper Dearbhaile. She placed my arm around her shoulders once more.

"Let's go away from here, Carter," she said.

"Agreed," I said.

3

We walked until long after the moon rose. At last, I stopped and we sat down. I reached into my pack, pulled out the package of dried, smoked deer meat, passed the package to Keeper Dearbhaile and pulled my water skin from the pack. I took a long drink and passed it over to my companion. As she took the skin, she passed the meat back to me. I took a couple of pieces and began to eat.

"Carter, do ye know who this Angriz fellow is?"

"I don't but those two seemed to think so. I wonder why."

"I do nae know. Are ye goin' tae build a fire?"

"No. I don't know if anyone is following us and I don't want to make it easier for them to do so."

"Oh. Do ye think it be okay tae stop, then?"

"I would not have, but I could tell you were tired. I am too awake to sleep, so I will keep watch tonight."

"There be a chill in th' air," she said.

I pulled my bedroll from my pack and passed it to her.

"Here," I said. "This should help."

"Thank ye."

Keeper Dearbhaile stepped behind some bushes and I walked off a bit and stood behind a pine tree to relieve myself. After returning, and sitting with my back against a beech tree, I pulled the white blade from my sheath, detecting a faint glow in the moonlight. I placed the sword on the ground by my right hand. She came over to me, and placed the unrolled bedroll near my outstretched legs. I watched her movements, a little puzzled. She stretched out on the bedroll and placed her head on my left thigh. I smiled, pulled my shirt off and covered her. Our size difference meant she was covered from her neck to just below her hips. I closed my eyes and cast my senses out.

"Nae as awake as ye thought, eh?" She teased.

"I'm still awake," I said. "My eyes being closed forces me to rely on my other senses. My hearing and sense of smell aren't affected by the darkness like my eyes are."

"How interestin'," she said. "We Renline see in th' dark as easy as in th' day."

"Sounds useful."

"It is. Carter, may I teach ye a Renline word?"

"Of course. What word?"

"The word be 'Rishka,'" she said.

"Sounds beautiful," I said. "What does it mean?"

"'Bright One.' It be an honorific given tae loved ones."

Keeper Dearbhaile's breathing evened out and deepened. Sometime later, the forest resumed its night sounds. To my left, crickets made their music, to my right, I heard the croaking of frogs, somewhere ahead of me, a mouse squealed as an owl caught it. A bit later, Keeper Dearbhaile began moaning in her sleep. I placed my hand on her shoulder and her whimpering faded away. A twig snapped to my immediate right and something snuffled near my ear. I opened my eye and glanced over, starting at the close up of being sniffed by a deer. My involuntary movement spooked the animal and it sprang away. I shifted, causing the rough bark of the tree to scrape across my back. The rest of the night passed uneventful, allowing me to ponder the Walker of Worlds role. From what I was able to tell, it was just a pretentious title that allowed me a brief glimpse into the future. But, only when in immediate danger.

4

All day long, carts, wagons and pedestrians travelled by us on the wide, dirt road. Around noon, we saw why. About a mile ahead, a small town sat surrounded by what appeared to be a huge stone wall. An enormous tower rose above the settlement. The people who passed us went through a large metal gate which was open wide in welcome. There was a tangible excitement to the air.

We glanced at each other, grinned, and increased our pace. We soon arrived at the town gate. A group of five guards stood to one side, watching everyone that entered the city. I decided against approaching them. Something about them seemed unsavory.

We were astonished by the sights, sounds and smells of the town. The streets were covered with elaborate decorations: streamers entwined tree branches, magical confetti rained down, and pictures of flowers hung in windows. Some windows had large pictures of flowers that filled the glass; others had a single blossom in an upper, or a lower, pane. Pairs of small silver bells hung in front of some doors. Children sported garlands and played with wands that shot colored lights. Jugglers tossed flaming torches back and forth as they walked. Clowns cut capers to the delight of crowds of people. Happy, celebratory music wafted through the air.

We laughed out loud at the sights. A man in a white leather apron passed us fluffy pastries and waved us onward. Another man, this time wearing a light brown apron handed Keeper Dearbhaile what appeared to be a caramel apple. "Excuse me, sir," I said. "What is going on?"

"Strangers, are ya?" He said, in what sounded like a Bronx, New York accent. "Wella, welcome ta Dunskillen Town. Tha lovely Wizard Cora is celebratin' tha birt' of her gran'son. An' she's invited tha whole town ta jine in!"

"Forgive me," I said, "But did you say she was a wizard?"

"Yep. That I did! An' even better, she announced tha any who coul' answer her riddlin' coul' get a wish!"

"Thank you for your time, kind sir. And thank you for the treat."

"Sure. Ya an' yer lady enjoy th' fair!" he said as we walked away.

I glanced at Keeper Dearbhaile as the man spoke. When she met my eyes I repeated in a whisper what the man had called her, "My lady", causing her to grin. Soon our progress was halted by a long line.

"Why be everyone lined up?" She called out.

A blond haired woman holding a crying baby replied. "This be the line to talk to th' wizard."

She bounced the baby on her hip, trying to get it to stop crying, but wasn't having any luck. I stepped into the line behind her, and Keeper Dearbhaile stood beside me. I just realized when she squeezed my hand that we had been holding hands the entire time we were in the town.

"What's the matter with your baby?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said, near tears. "I'm hopin' tha wizard Cora might know an' cure her."

"What can ye tell us about her?" Keeper Dearbhaile asked.

"She's a Snebbli. Like mos' of her people, she's rather mothering: she's always offerin' customers tea and biscuits, engagin' them in gossip or just as likely scolding' them fer gamblin' too much, or not dressing proper-like on a cold day, ya know, stuff like that. She's fond of riddles and throws huge festivals whenever one of her chil'ren have a baby. That's all I know of her," the woman said.

"Thank ye fer th' information."

As the line moved forward, I tried everything I knew to get the baby to stop crying, but nothing worked. The mother gave me a sad smile and attempted to apologize for the noise. I started to tell her not to worry about it when she was called forward into the roped off area under an apple tree. I watched, hoping the young woman would be able to answer the riddles. She broke down in tears and was led away by a guard. A guard, close to us, looked at us holding hands and spoke the rules.

"You may both approach, but only one may attempt to answer the riddles. There is to be no conferring between you. If you do so, you will be disqualified. The person who answers the riddle gets one wish. Good fortune to you."

We drew near the wizard who sat on a throne, looking tired and sad. The tiny woman had black hair streaked with white which hung down to her elbows. She had a round and cheerful face, lined with age and watery brown eyes.

"Who will try the riddles?" She asked in a tiny, musical voice.

"I will," I said.

"Why not me?" Keeper Dearbhaile asked me.

"Would you like to?"

She sighed. "Nae."

"Ready to begin?" the wizard asked.

"Yes'm."

"Provider, devourer, a double edged blade, Man he has tamed her accepting this trade. Ravenous and hungry, must all the time feed, yet drink she must not: this will kill her indeed."

This was similar to a riddle from my world. I was certain I had the answer.

"Fire, Ma'am."

The Snebbli sat up straighter. "Indeed," she said. "Ready for the next?"

"Yes'm."

"More valued than gold, more precious than silk, pouring like wine, flowing like milk. A count's evening feast, an offering of war, a pact is now sealed, forever more."

This time the answer was within the riddle: flowing and 'count's evening feast.'

"Blood, Ma'am."

"Indeed. Are you ready for the last one?"

"Yes'm," I replied.

"It prods a man's hand and it robs him of sleep. It makes him climb mountains and travel the deep. It makes him go wander down deep in a cave, and do almost anything, stupid, or brave. The longer denied, the greater it grows. It makes a man learn until he thinks he knows."

I grinned. I had had this riddle as the only question on one of my physics professor's infamous pop quizzes. "Curiosity, Ma'am."

The wizard leaped from her chair and clapped her hands.

"Congratulations, my boy! You have answered all my riddles! No one has ever done that before!"

Keeper Dearbhaile rose on tiptoe and kissed me on my cheek as a crowd of people cheered my success.

"Now, what will your wish be?" the wizard asked.

"May my companion ask for the wish instead?"

The wizard blinked in surprise. "Are you sure, my boy? Once granted, I will grant no other for you."

"I'm certain, Ma'am."

"Alright," she turned to Keeper Dearbhaile. "What would your wish be, dear girl?"

She took a deep breath, ready to answer when the wizard stopped her with an outstretched palm.

"Don't you wish to think about it? I will reiterate what I told your man: I will grant no other wish for you after this one."

"Thank ye, Wizard Cora, but I know for sure what I be wishin' for."

"Alright. What is it?"

"Th' young mother that be here before us; I wish ye would cure her wee bairn."

Wizard Cora's eyes widened in surprise. "Done." She turned to one of the guards. "Go and fetch Goodwife Millicent and her baby."

Minutes later, Goodwife Millicent and her crying baby were before us.

"What's going on?" She asked, nervous. "Th' guard wouldn't tell me anything."

"The young man answered my riddles," the wizard began. "He passed his wish to his woman and she wished for your child to be cured of what ails her."

"Oh my! Is this a dream?"

"You are awake."

"Oh, thank you, thank you," Goodwife Millicent cried, throwing her free arm around Keeper Dearbhaile.

The wizard placed her hand on the baby's forehead and then her face went white. She snapped her fingers and we were in an opulent room.

5

Torches burned in brackets on stone walls. Rich tapestries hung here and there. I looked down and saw we stood on the thickest rug I had ever encountered. The wizard, her eyes blazing and no longer welcoming, stood on the stone floor. I noticed we, Keeper Dearbhaile, Goodwife Millicent and I, were the only ones on the rug. The wizard bent and flipped a corner of the rug up, showing us an arcane sigil carved into the stone beneath it.

"Now," she said her voice cold. "Who are you, and why are you here?"

"Wizard Cora —" began the Goodwife.

"Silence, woman," the wizard barked.

The young woman and her crying baby went silent. I noticed the baby was still squirming with her mouth open. 'A spell of silence. Cool.'

"I say again — " started the wizard.

"Wizard Cora," I interrupted, "My name is Carter Blake. My companion is named Keeper Dearbhaile Galonadriel. We came here because it looked like a festival was going on. I figured we could use a break from the events of the past few days. We had no idea you were here. We just heard a wizard was going to give someone a wish if they could answer your riddles. I was going to use the wish to restore my companion's memory. We met the young woman with the crying baby while standing in your line and Keeper Dearbhaile used the wish to help the child."

"How did your companion lose her memory?" The suspicious wizard asked.

The weariness of the last few days caught up with me at last, so I sat down. I looked at the floor as I answered.

"She lost her memory because of me," I said, my voice low . "I ended a Stop-Time spell early and the backlash wiped her memory."

I looked up and was surprised to see the Snebbli wizard had a crossbow pointed at me. It had a wicked-looking green arrow nocked.

"I'll ask only once. If you do not answer, I will kill you where you are," she said with menace. "What are you?"

I sighed and rubbed my eyes with my fingers. "A Vaush-Tauric said I was a Walker of Worlds."

I opened my eyes to one of the oddest sights I've had since arriving in this world: the once angry little wizard prostrating herself before me, the crossbow dropped, and forgotten.

"Forgive me, Great One," she was saying. "I did not know."

"Of course not. I didn't tell you until now. I'd wager you thought I was a demonic assassin, yes? And please get up, Ma'am."

She rose to her feet. "Are you sure you won't strike me dead for the affront?" she said, voice tremulous.

"What affront?" I asked.

"I dared point a weapon at you."

"I would have done the same were our positions reversed. Now, on to more important things: what's wrong with the baby?"

"It doesn't have a soul, Milord."

I reached up and tugged Keeper Dearbhaile down to sit. Somehow, she wound up on my lap. My exhaustion made me not care.

"Would you free Goodwife Millicent and explain to all of us what that means?"

"Of course, Milord."

She snapped her fingers again and we were all in a lavish sitting room. Innumerable books lined the shelves. Ivory inlaid teak end tables were at either side of thick cushioned chairs. A harpsichord stood near one of the windows. Goodwife Millicent and her baby were in one of the chairs as was Wizard Cora. I was stretched out on a couch with Keeper Dearbhaile sitting across my lap as if she were riding a horse sidesaddle.

"Goodwife, your baby is crying nonstop because she is without her soul."

"What?" the Goodwife wailed, "How can this be?"

"My guess would be someone close to you," I said. "Most likely a brother or sister, of your baby, or much worse, her father, sold her soul." All eyes locked on me. "I... studied Demonology where I'm from. It was a hobby, to try... Never mind."

"Can we get my baby's soul back?"

Cora said, "I do not know how to even learn what demon even holds it."

"I do," I said.

I drew the white blade from its sheath. This time, the coldness raced up my arm and part way down my thighs before halting. I shivered, and laid the sword on my lap when Keeper Dearbhaile rose.

"Nae. It be too dangerous for ye."

"We cannot allow a child to suffer when we can alleviate it." I could not reveal my entire plan to her. She would never have agreed to it.

She sighed. "Yer right. We can nae."

Goodwife Millicent looked back and forth between me and her, confusion written on her face. I ignored her and glanced to Wizard Cora while sheathing the white blade.

"Can you do it?"

"If you are certain."

I looked up at Keeper Dearbhaile once more. She nodded and placed a kiss on my cheek. "Be careful, Carter."

"I will." I laid the sword beside the chair. "I am ready, Wizard Cora."

She nodded and snapped her fingers. The two of us were back in the room where we started. I stood once more on the carpet. The wizard began the summoning spell. Ten minutes later, a column of crimson light shot up from the floor. From within, a large, powerful looking humanoid appeared. It had black, scaled skin, sharp looking claws and fangs, a pair of forward-growing horns above its eyes and short horns growing upward from its forehead. Its large eyes glowed red and it smelled of sulfur and hot tar.

"Hello again, Belial," I said.

6

"Carter Blake," the half-demon said in his sick bullfrog voice. "Your daring is impressive."

"I know."

"What do you want?"

"Do you know where you are?"

"I'm within a summoning circle."

"Which is within a binding circle," I finished.

"What?"

I nodded to Wizard Cora. She flipped up the edge of the rug, revealing the truth that I spoke. He glared at me.

"Yes," I said to his unanswered question. "I have a task for you." I tipped my head. "Well, two of them."

"What are they?"

"There is a child nearby."

"What of it?"

"I want her soul restored to her."

"And the other task?"

"I want Keeper Dearbhaile's memory restored."

"What is your offer?"

I told him. His crimson eyes gleamed with greed. "Done!"

"I want proof, first."

Wizard Cora disappeared for a moment then returned. She wasn't alone.

"Carter, damn ye! Do nae do this! We can find another way! We can get Angriz to aid us, or the Vaush-Tauric! Rishka!"

"Satisfied?" The half-demon asked. I hate rhetorical questions.

"I'm sorry, Dearbhaile. I could think of no other way."

I strode into the column oflight and everything went black.