Heir to the Shadows

across the print until there was no trace of it. He got to his feet, brushed the dirt from his knees, glanced at the flower bed, and froze.
    The paw print was as deep and as clear as it had been a minute ago.
    "Andulvar!" Saetan dropped to his knees and smoothed dirt across the print again.
    Andulvar rushed in, the air from his wings stirring the young plants, and knelt beside Saetan.
    They watched in silence while the dirt rolled away from the print.
    Andulvar swore viciously. "It's been spelled."
    "Yes," Saetan said too softly. He used the equivalent strength of a White Jewel to obliterate the print again. When it came back just as quickly, he went to the Yellow, the next level of descent. Then he tried Tiger Eye, Rose, and Summer-sky. Finally, at the strength of the Purple Dusk Jewel, the print was barely discernible.
    With a vicious swipe of his hand, Saetan used the strength of his Birthright Red to eliminate the print.
    It didn't return.
    "Someone wanted to be very sure this print wasn't carelessly erased," Saetan said, wiping his hand on the grass.
    Andulvar rubbed his fist against his chin. "Keep the waif from wandering around by herself, even in these gardens. Prothvar and I aren't much help in the daylight, but we'll keep watch at night."
    "You think someone's foolish enough to penetrate the Hall?"
    "Looks like someone already has. That's not what's bothering me." Andulvar pointed to the now-smooth dirt. "That's not a dog, SaDiablo. It's a wolf. It's hard to believe
    a wolf would choose to get this close to humans, but even if it's being controlled by someone, what's the point of bringing it here?"
    "Bait," Saetan said, immediately sending out a psychic call to Jaenelle. Her distracted acknowledgment reassured him that she was sufficiently engrossed in her studies to remain indoors.
    "Bait for what?"
    Instead of answering, Saetan made a sweeping probe of the Hall and the surrounding land. There was that muzziness in the south tower, the fading effects of the shielding spells Helene and Beale had broken as they cleared out the tower and uncovered Hekatah's secret rooms. There was also that odd ripple in the north woods.
    Saetan probed a little longer and then stopped. Getting into the Hall had never been difficult. Getting out was another matter.
    "Bait for what, SaDiablo?" Andulvar asked again.
    "For a young girl who's lonely and loves animals."

4 / Kaeleer
     
    Greer huddled in a corner of the secret cubbyhole, whimpering as that dark mind rolled through the very stones, probing, searching.
    He struggled to keep his mind carefully blank as the surge of dark power washed over him. He couldn't safely bolt before sunset, but if he were caught here, how would he explain his presence? Having lost one little darling, Greer doubted any explanation would appease the High Lord right now.
    When the psychic probe faded, Greer stretched out his legs and sighed. As much as he feared the High Lord, he didn't relish going back to Hekatah without any information. She would insist he try again.
    It would have to be tonight. He would find the girl's room, look her over, and return to Hell. If Hekatah wanted to get any closer and risk coming face-to-face with Saetan, she could do it herself.

5 / Kaeleer
     
    Saetan headed for his suite, hoping a little rest would bring inspiration. Earlier that evening, he'd tried to convince Jaenelle to contact some of her friends. He'd failed miserably and, in the process, had learned a lot about an adolescent witch's emotional volatility.
    Wondering if he could enlist Sylvia as an ally in future emotional battles and still puzzling over the wolf print in the garden, he felt the warning signs a moment too late.
    A psychic tidal wave of fear and rage crashed against his mind and sent him reeling into the wall. He clutched his head as knife-edged pain stabbed at his temples, and tasted blood as his teeth cut his lip.
    Moaning at the merciless throbbing in his head, he sank to the floor and instinctively tried to strengthen his inner barriers against another mind-tearing assault.
    When no other psychic wave crashed against his inner barriers, Saetan raised his head and probed cautiously. He stared at the door across the hall from where he huddled. "Witch-child?"
    An agonized scream came from behind Jaenelle's door.
    Saetan pushed himself to his feet, stumbled across the hall, and plunged into a room consumed by the most violent psychic storm he'd ever encountered. Except for a strong,