A small column of smoke appeared on the table behind Delsani. Helen had not seen it as she was looking at and listening to the old Wizard.

Just like the letter that went to Delsani at the Battle of Kealhal, this one was standing on its bottom corners, and it began to jump up and down for attention. Still Helen did not see it. The letter then proceeded to stamp its supposed left foot on the table.

Delsani turned when he heard the faint taping. The letter had begun jumping, and the Wizard caught it in midair. As he unfolded the parchment and read what it said, his face went pale.

“What’s wrong?” asked Helen.

“There’s been another attack.” Delsani’s voice sounded hollow.

“Another attack,” repeated Helen weakly.

“So it says here. It was a small Witch town that was built only three miles from the borders of Opredanas. I knew it and its inhabitants well, as did Saren and Henkot,” said Delsani mournfully.

“What was it called?” asked Helen. “The town, I mean.”

“The name of the town was Kuople,” said Delsani.

“I’m sure that I’ve heard that name before,” said Helen.

“That was where Saren’s sister lived,” said Delsani.

“Oh my god,” said Helen at length. “Were there any survivors?”

The Wizard shook his head. They stood there in silence for a few moments, and then Delsani spoke. “Helen I must go before the situation gets even more desperate. Don’t forget to call Saren. Now she definitely has to know what’s happened. I hate to leave you with such a task but I must go.”

“Is that safe? I mean, you said that the assassin was tracking Phazes,” said Helen.

“Yes I’m sure that Jaucal has left a small and safe window open for me. For he would not risk exposing Peter’s whereabouts to the assassin,” said Delsani reassuringly.

“Don’t forget to send someone for Dorana,” Helen said.

The Wizard nodded as he Phazed back to Dorminya, and Helen went straight for the phone in the living room. However, as she was about to pick up the receiver, she saw that it was off the hook. She knew it had been Peter, for the phone had always fascinated him, and he was always picking up the receiver and talking into it. She reached for the receiver, though as she picked it up the front door bell rang.

Helen put the phone down just as Peter got up and ran to the door.

“NO PETER WAIT!” Helen shouted to the boy. She was afraid; she knew that it could be anyone or thing. The assassin perhaps.

Peter pulled back the small curtain and took a peek out of one of the thin windows at the side of the door just as Helen came up behind hot on his heels.

“IT’S AUNTIE JOAN!,” shouted Peter gleefully.

“All right there’s no need to shout. I’m not deaf,” said Helen.

Peter was jumping up and down wildly.

“Calm down,” said Helen as she opened the door.

“Hi,” said Saren, “I tried to phone, but your phone was engaged.”

“Yeah, I just found that out and was about to call you,” said Helen, “Come on in.”

“Thanks,” said Saren, “what’s wrong, Helen?”

“Something serious has happened. Actually, a couple of serious things have happened.”

“Well, I kind of figured that when I found this,” said the Witch as she held up an opened letter. But before they could say anything else, Peter started pulling Saren by the arm. “Come on Joan,” he said.

Helen was glad that Peter had come to her rescue, for she had no idea how to tell her best friend that her sister was dead.

However, Helen knew that she only had a few minutes before Saren would want to know everything.

“Let me guess, cartoons are on,” laughed Saren. And when Helen failed to give even a faint smile, her friend knew that whatever had happened was not just serious but disastrous. Only ten minutes after sitting down with Peter, Saren made an excuse about helping Helen clean up the kitchen.

Poor Peter, thought Helen. Every time he thinks he has someone to watch cartoons with him, he’s always left sitting on his own.

They went into the kitchen and Helen told Saren all that Delsani had told her before the letter showed up. Then it was time for the part of the conversation that Helen had been dreading. She broke the news as gently as she could.

“Is that the letter?” asked Saren as she pointed at the piece of parchment on the table.

Before Helen could confirm or deny it. The letter was in Saren’s hand and she was reading it. She cried aloud when she got to the end. Helen ran forward and wrapped her arms around her friend.

After Saren had calmed a little, an explosion sounded in the living room. Helen and Saren ran in and saw the room was almost completely dark. The only source of light was the television. Then they saw a tall and very thin man standing in front of the T.V. where the boy had last sat. The man changed in front of their eyes. From someone with a deep tan, he changed to pure white. His nose shortened, his mouth widened to show thin sharp teeth, his ears vanished into the sides of his head, his fingers grew longer and were now like thick twigs, and his fingernails grew to six-inch razors.

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It was no longer a man. It was some deformed, rank creature that stood staring at the women with its black, cold eyes.

“It’s him isn’t it?” said Helen. “It’s the Druid’s Assassin.

“Where is the one?” it grated in a harsh voice.

Helen and Saren said nothing, and they both felt a sense of relief shoot through them, for now they knew that the creature had not found Peter.

“Where is the one?” it repeated.

Again Helen and Saren said nothing. It was then they heard a loud snarling growl. It sounded as though it came from the ceiling. The three of them looked up at the same time. They saw two wide blue Dragon eyes staring straight at the creature. It was Peter, observing the monster, watching it’s every move. The boy’s fangs and claws could be seen glimmering against the faint flickering light of the television. He leapt from the ceiling onto the creature and began hitting and pounding it with his fists. He jumped to the ground and landed on his feet, grabbed the creature by one of its thin white arms and flung it into the coffee table that sat beside the couch.

In the seconds that followed. The room grew dark. They could not see Peter or the creature. For a second, they thought they saw a dim, blue light, but as quickly as it came it was gone.

In a moment of desperation and fear for Peter’s life, Helen began feeling for the light switch. She thought that if she could not see Peter. Then he also could not see her. And Peter’s fear of the dark might give the assassin the advantage over him.

However, Peter could see through darkness with his Dragon eyes and was acting on pure instinct alone. He did not even know that Helen and Saren were in the room. He was concentrating purely on the assassin.

When Helen hit the switch, the light seemed dull to the women’s eyes. But they could see Peter standing in the middle of the floor. The light may have been dim, but it was enough to distract Peter. He stood blinking at the two women by the kitchen door.

As the boy stood there for only a second, Helen and Saren saw a dark shape rise behind him. They knew it was the assassin, who appeared to be missing his left arm. Saren guessed that the blue light they had seen was Peter throwing an energy ball.

Helen and Saren shouted to Peter. He turned, but the assassin slashed his face with its long sharp fingernails. Peter fell down onto his left knee, and the creature kicked him in the face and sent him flying past the two spectators. Helen squealed and ran to him.

Saren fumbled in her pocket for her talisman. She quickly found it and fixed it to her hand, held it up and shouted, “LETH-DEROY!” Light burst from the talisman and there came a sharp squeal as the darkness was driven back.

The assassin was on its knees swaying to and fro. Its strength seemed to dwindle without the shadow around it.

The Witch had realized that the shadow consuming the room was Ulicoth getting closer to their location. She knew that if the shadow was allowed to cover the room completely. The Dark Lord would send thousands of his creatures to ensure Peter’s demise, and then all would be lost for the alliance. She stood her ground, but the darkness was again growing stronger.

Just then, Helen and Peter (who was fine and completely healed) saw smoke rising and twirling round. When it cleared, a male Wizard and a Warlock stood in front of them. They were Ves-guards, both wearing light blue capes with the right side over their shoulder and held by a silver brooch with a blue stone. Their helmets were red, as were their shin guards. Their breastplates and mail shirts were ash grey. Pressed into their breastplates were images of Dragdani’s Dragon with a wand beside his right wing. At its other wing was a talisman to mark the new Joint Council.

The Ves-guards pointed a wand and talisman at the creature. Helen did not see the rest, for she looked away and pulled Peter closer to her and turned his view away as well.

She heard shouting and saw flashes of light.

Then suddenly there was nothing.

“It’s all right,” said the Wizard. “That thing’s gone.”

Helen looked and there the Wizard was staring down at them. She looked across the room and saw a pile of salt were the assassin once stood.

Saren still stood with her talisman on her hand trying to fight back the shadow. The Warlock Ves-guard was standing with her and was ready to help. Although there were now two fighting it, the darkness still slowly pushed forward.

The Wizard Ves-guard joined them, and the shadow slowed a little but still came.

“LET PETER GO, HELEN!” shouted Saren. “He might be able to drive it back!”

However Helen was not holding onto him; he held onto her.

It seemed that now the creature had been destroyed, Peter’s powers were again being suppressed, for his hair was turning dark brown again, and when Helen looked into his eyes. The green was beginning to fade back to hazel brown. He passed out shortly after that.

Saren saw this and began to despair. The shadow seemed to get stronger in that instant. A sound rose up, a sound of laughter it seemed. It came from the darkness itself. For it had felt the drop in power when the suppression spell went to work on the small boy again, and it knew that now there were none left there that could thwart its mission. However, a booming, stern and commanding voice rose up over the laughter like an explosion of words.

“Still you try to fight even after your puppet is gone,” said the voice.

The shadow gave a shriek as though the voice had caused it great pain. All in the room felt joy run through them; they knew that voice, as it belonged to Jaucal. The darkness started to shift, swirling in parts and fading in others. Then out of it stepped Jaucal and Delsani, closely followed by the rest of the Council and five other Ves-guards.

“What’s the matter? Don’t tell me the Dark Lord Ulicoth is afraid of an old Wizard,” said Jaucal. “Come now, don’t be shy. I know this trick of yours. Talk if you will, or have your days of weakness not left you yet?”

“I’m sure that you are not just an old Wizard, for you are Jaucal, the great and powerful Grand Wizard of the Order of Lanisic, also known as the old fool. Only a fool would dare to challenge the Lord of Dempmage and think that they would live to jest,” said Ulicoth’s refined, cold voice through the shadow. “Why not just give me the boy? There’s no point in trying to hide him. If I found him once, I will find him again.”

“The Grand Wizard I am, and though I have made mistakes, I am no fool,” said Jaucal clearly. “I would not hand over the foulest smelling Orslat in our world’s history to you. I know your mind, and it is not to kill Drago son of Jastark, but to raise and teach him as your own student.”

Ulicoth said nothing for a moment.

“Perhaps I was wrong about you. Maybe you are not as simple as I had originally thought,” said Ulicoth, recovered from the blow. “However; your lucky guess will not change your fate -”

“You’re admitting that you were wrong, Ulicoth. If you ask me, some things have already changed,” laughed Jaucal, who felt Ulicoth was losing their battle of words already.

“IF YOU WILL NOT HAND THE BOY OVER, I WILL HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO ORDER HIS DESTRUCTION! AND THAT SHALL BE ON YOUR HEAD, AND YOURS ALONE, OLD ONE!” shouted Ulicoth angrily.

“As you yourself pointed out, I am Jaucal Grand Wizard of the Order of Lanisic and the Council of Wiz-Wit. I am holder of the Sceptre of Sevlter, and I will not be told what to do by Salith’s underling,” said Jaucal proudly and loudly. “You have made the mistake of thinking you have power here, as you can frighten all others, but I and Delsani, son of Furolt, see through you,” said Jaucal.

“Delsani, son of Furolt,” said Ulicoth, “so you are also here?” he said, addressing Delsani directly.