"I was right! That little… Go on."

"He was at the dig. He had the amulet. He was scared to death. He saw me coming and headed downhill. When he got near where the moat used to be, Besand came out of nowhere, screaming and waving a sword. Men fu started running. Besand kept after him. It's pretty bright out there, but I lost track when they got up around the Howler's barrow. Besand must have caught him. I heard them yelling and rolling around in the brush. Then they started screaming."

Stancil stopped. Bomanz waited.

"I don't know how to describe it, Pop. I never heard sounds like that. AH the ghosts piled onto the Howler's barrow. It went on a long time. Then the screaming started getting closer."

Stancil, Bomanz concluded, had been shaken deeply. Shaken the way a man is when his basic beliefs are uprooted. Odd. "Go on."

"It was Besand. He had the amulet, but it didn't help. He didn't make it across the moat. He dropped it. The ghosts jumped him. He's dead, Pop. The Guards were all out there… They couldn't do anything but look. The Monitor wouldn't give them amulets so they could get him."

Bomanz folded his hands on the tabletop, stared at them. "So now we have two men dead. Three counting the one last night. How many will we have tomorrow night? Will I have to face a platoon of new ghosts?"

"You're going to do it tomorrow night?"

"That's right. With Besand gone there's no reason to delay it. Is there?"

"Pop… Maybe you shouldn't. Maybe the knowledge out there should stay buried."

"What's this? My son parroting my misgivings?"

"Pop, let's don't fight. Maybe I pushed too hard. Maybe I was wrong. You know more about the Barrowland than me."

Bomanz stared at his son. More boldly than he felt, he said, "I'm going in. It's time to put doubts aside and get on with it. There's the list. See if there's an area of inquiry that I've forgotten."

"Pop…"

"Don't argue with me, boy." It had taken him all evening to shed the ingrained Bomanz persona and surface the wizard so long and artfully hidden. But he was out now.

Bomanz went to a comer where a few seemingly innocuous objects were piled. He stood taller than usual. He moved more precisely, more quickly. He began piling things on the table. "When you go back to Oar, you can tell my old classmates what became of me." He smiled thinly. He could recall a few who would shudder even now, knowing he had studied at the Lady's knee. He'd never forgotten, never forgiven. And they knew him that well.

Stancil's pallor had disappeared. Now he was uncertain. This side of the father had not been seen since before the son's birth. It was outside his experience. "Do you want to go out there, Pop?"