“You really are the most tedious and miserable servant of evil ever,” Feyn spat disgustedly. He stalked over to examine Cyrene, all the while disparaging his host. “I told you, put the inn on the main road. If you’re going to torture people, if you’re going to chop ’em up and serve ’em as fucking pies then do it to pilgrims, do it to church officials and priests, and do the Dark a real service. Instead of which you’re such a cowardly turd that you only ever pick on the miserable and the weak and those that won’t fight back. You think you’re doing evil? How is it any use to anyone if it isn’t serving the Dark Lord, Visler?” But then he was staring at Cyrene, and he made a few passes in the air before her, as her eyes helplessly stared out at him from her frozen face. “Oh. Oh my Dark Lord, what’s this?”

“What is it, what is it?” Visler demanded, at his elbow.

“Visler, you useless streak of piss, you have just made my day,” Feyn said, shaking his head. “I don’t know how, but you’ve been digging shit for so long that somehow you’ve struck gold.”

“I don’t understand, no, no,” the innkeeper whined.

“I know this one. She’s on a list. Her and hers killed a Doomsayer in Shogg’s Ford a while back. She’s a disciple of that priestess what’s-her-name.” Feyn laughed delightedly. “Oh my friend, my friend, at last you serve the cause, despite yourself! They’re going to be looking for this one from Armesion to the gates of the Dark Tower!”

“What?” Visler demanded, appalled. “No, no, no, I’ll let her go, I’ll—”

“You fucking won’t.” Feyn cuffed him. “You leave her to me, vermin. So who’s this, then?” He frowned at Enth.

“Him? He’s magic, he’s holy, he’s special, yes, yes,” hissed Visler. “The poison you gave me, it didn’t even work on him, not at all, no.”

“What, you mean he’s…”

All this time, Enth had not moved, just standing by the table.

“Yes, yes, he got up, you have to do something about him,” wheedled the innkeeper.

But Feyn was making passes again, peering at Enth through some magic eye he had conjured. “Well, well, well,” he said at last.

“What is it? Tell me, Feyn, tell me.”

“No wonder the stuff didn’t touch him,” Feyn murmured wonderingly. “He’s one of ours. The Dark magics won’t harm him.”

“What? No, no.” Visler wrung his hands. “You said it would work, you said it would do what I wanted.”