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massaged his wrinkled forehead with two long, uncleaned nails
and regarded the intruder with murderous impatience.
The female slave, Hilda, stood trembling in her scanty
rags under his glare. “M-m-master, there is a lady outside.” He
observed she was holding her belly, no doubt still suffering from
his last “experiment.”
Taking silence for encouragement, Hilda continued. “She
said her name was Lyla. She comes seeking your aid.”
Almost before the last word was uttered, Arius the Dark
was striding anxiously past the helpless wretch and down the
winding stair that led to the front hall of his tower. Here the
unfinished stone was hidden by tapestries of royal hunts (though,
more often than not, the hunters were hunting human prey).
Amongst these were mounted the heads of beasts, as well as
more peculiar heads.
At last the door was reached. Drawing back the latch, he
found himself regarding, for the first time in person, the face of
his goddaughter.
She stood petite in a boyish green jerkin and yellow hose,
her wine-dark hair cascading to her mid-back in untamed curls.
Only her grass-green eyes and sunless skin seemed familiar. A
twinge of unaccustomed guild reminded him that it had been
some years since he had last observed her in his crystal. Lyla had
grown into a young woman.
After a moment of nervous discomfort, he softly bade her
enter. Unaccustomed as he was to guests, the young lady was
left to wander the plush red rugs of the hall for several minutes
while Arius made a show of securing the door.
Stubbornly concealing his confusion, the host briefly con-
sidered offering her some tea. This she rejected, all the pots were
cursed. Instead, he gestured her through the archway on the left
and into the sitting room. After arranging himself on the satin
armchair nearest the fire and motioning her to the green couch, it
was finally time to solve the mystery of the moment.

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