Death of an Adept

He directed the dagger toward the roll of lead sheeting in the cauldron. There followed another brief flurry of token resistance, but then, abruptly, the roll of chain-wrapped sheeting took on a hectic shimmer, as if it were about to liquefy. In the same moment, the lead bulged outward, defining the spectral outline of a human form wrapped within.

A face took shape at the top of the column, a lean, bearded visage that might have been dissolutely handsome had it not been contorted in an expression of mingled anguish and loathing. The image writhed and wavered, but Soulis himself was demonstrably unable to escape. Satisfied thus far, Raeburn drew himself up and again pointed the dagger at his quarry.

"William de Soulis, I require that you answer certain questions," he declared, never wavering in his intent. "To this end, I have provided you with a host body. I hereby charge you to take possession of it. Attempt to defy me, and I shall send you back to the infernal regions whence you have come."

Using the dagger as a pointer, he indicated Taliere's cooling corpse. The gesture carried the weight of compulsion. Sluggishly, with obvious reluctance, Soulis's presence coalesced briefly in a shimmer of malignant glitter above the cauldron, then brimmed over the edge and downward like an evil mist to engulf and permeate Taliere's body.

A shudder racked the old Druid's abandoned frame. Moving like a damaged marionette, it raised its head and then elbowed itself to its feet in a series of spasmodic jerks. The glazed eyes focused on Raeburn's face in combined hatred and fury. Then the slack mouth moved, emitting a voice that was rough as a file, and utterly unlike Taliere's.

"Who are you, and why have you conjured me?"

The language was an antique variant of Scots, but Raeburn's linguistic abilities were more than adequate to enable him to answer in the same mode.

"I am the Lynx-Master, and your master," he informed Soulis. "Beyond that, my name need not concern you. As for my purpose, I require knowledge that you possess."

"What knowledge might that be?''

"The secret," Raeburn said, "of conjuring and binding elemental spirits."

A malignant sneer contorted the corpse's face.

"What makes you think you are in any way worthy to wield a secret of such magnitude?''

"Have I not brought you here and commanded your obedience?" Raeburn countered. "Surely that bespeaks some hint of the scope of my abilities."

The corpse's lips curled in contemptuous defiance. "All the more reason to keep my knowledge to myself."

"When you hear what I have to offer," Raeburn retorted, "you may be more than willing to bargain. Or does it not interest you to contemplate release from your long banishment?"

"Speak, mortal," the corpse replied in a low, deadly tone.

Raeburn inclined his head. "By dint of my own resources, I have been able to gain access to the operative magical keys by which your adversaries were able to condemn you to banishment amid the Inner Planes. It may interest you to learn that I've devised a way to nullify them. What I therefore propose is a simple exchange of favors: You give me the information that I want - teach me to conjure and bind elemental spirits - and I, in return, will set you free."

After a deathly pause, Soulis spoke slowly, the voice flat and emotionless.

"There is nothing I would not do to regain my liberty," he said, "but it is not within my power to pay your bargaining price."

"Indeed?" Raeburn's one word spoke a world of disbelief. "And why not?"

"For the reason that half the knowledge you demand was never in my keeping," came the response. "It was supplied independently by my spirit familiar."

"By Robin Redcap?"

A look of uneasiness flickered across the face that was no longer Taliere's. "Aye, the same."

"And what, exactly, was Redcap's contribution? Answer me!"

There was another moment's hesitation before Soulis reluctantly replied.

"The required ritual demands the interweaving of two complementary sequences of spells. The first derives from the material realm. The second, however, derives from the realm of Faerie. The language in which these Faerie spells are couched is one which no mortal tongue can pronounce and no mortal mind can retain. Without Redcap's aid, I could not have performed the binding ritual - and neither can you."

"Then I suggest you find me a way to secure the services of Redcap or some other Faerie ally," Raeburn replied, undaunted.

"You have no idea what you are asking," Soulis said flatly. "Redcap was one of the few denizens of Faerie strong enough to empower the incantations."

"Then you will have to persuade him to act as my ally," Raeburn said. "Unless, of course, you have found your former mode of existence so agreeable that you would rather not exert yourself in that regard."

An angry snarl greeted this suggestion. "I do not know if the former link between us yet abides," Soulis rasped.

"Then we shall have to summon him and find out."