y muscles came back to me with a snap like that of a stretched rubber band. I jerked all over, and sucked a big gasp of air. But the Master's reaction was even more violent. He recoiled, leaping up onto one knee, looking at me as if I had produced a rattlesnake from my pocket!

"What ...?" I began in bewilderment; then I became aware of a sharp prick between my shoulder blades.

"Do not move," came Srin's voice, as steely as his blade.

"Master! What is it?" yelped Hadranes.

My owner's answering words dropped into the ensuing silence one by one. "He – has – no – soul!"

"Undead!" spat Hadranes.

My owner shook his head impatiently. "No, no! There is no po'ahm in him – neither his own nor another's. Nothing!" His left hand was half extended toward me; even though it was empty (except for the ring), I felt inescapably that it threatened me as strongly as if it held a loaded gun. His voice was low and flatly menacing as he continued, his eyes drilling through me. "What manner of being are you, and for what purpose have you stolen the body of a man?"

I started to raise my hands defensively; then Srin's sword or whatever he held jabbed me painfully and I froze. "I already told you!" I cried desperately. "I'm not a monster – I'm a man! You're right that this isn't my body – not exactly, anyway, but in another way it is. I mean ... when I look in a mirror, I see myself, not a stranger. Or at least, not a total stranger – there are a few differences ...."

His brows drew down faintly. "Tell me again," he directed. "Exactly how you came – every word, every sight, every impression."

I licked my lips, trying to remember all the details. The situation was scarcely conducive to total recall, but as I spoke it seemed to come back to me. I told about the accident, and the appearance of the woman, and quoted every word she had said, as best I could.

When I got to the last part, I heard Srin gasp. "A sword in the hand ...," he repeated. "Is that not ...?"

"Sha'amoth ysthon, yes," the Master answered, and then told me, "This is vital. What were her exact words?"

I bit my lip and scowled, concentrating. "'I commission you in the name of the First Gods, Creators of All, to be a vessel of power, a sword in the hand of the Elder Lord Shay ...' something. 'Go, and be faithful.'"

Finally he relaxed, sitting back on his heel. He blew out a deep breath and shook his head, not in denial, but in apparent confusion or indecision. "This is entirely outside my experience," he admitted. Then he looked sharply at me once more. "But there is one way to test the truth of your story. Srin, fetch the Wand."

"What if it is a trap?" the boy worried. "What if ...."

"Soon or late, the experiment must be tried. I cannot examine him; I cannot view his memories; I very much doubt that the sha'amoth tan would find any more than I can. I dare not destroy him – what if he was indeed sent by Yl'thaia? Nor do I dare delay until we get back to Ta'arim." His voice softened with affection, but his gaze remained fixed on my face. "Go, little one."

Srin obeyed, leaving the door open behind him. I shifted uncomfortably. "You've got to believe me! I've told you everything I know!"

He nodded faintly. "I believe you. Or at least I am willing to do so. But this sorcery is not familiar to me, and so I intend to find out whether you have indeed been fitted by my Masters to be a vessel of power."

"Your masters?" I frowned. Who or what would the purported greatest sorcerer in the world own as masters?

"The First Gods, in Whose name you claim to come."

"Oh. That priest I talked to said no one worshipped them anymore."

"Perhaps no one except myself. They are the Gods of the beginning, They Who created all other gods, They Whom I serve, Who own my soul and command my service, and give me Power in return."

"So this Shay Az .. whatever is one of them?"

His lips twitched in a brief sardonic smile. "Hardly. I am Sha'azharet'th, Elder Lord of Ard'dr."

"You!" I gasped. "They sent me to ... to help you?" The neat pattern I had conceived had turned inside out so swiftly that it took my breath away.

"So it would appear. Or perhaps was intended thus to appear, so that I would trust you, and you could then betray me."

"Then you know ... Yl'thaia? Is she a woman, or a goddess?"

He bit his lip. "Both. She is my sister, my wife, my savior. If it was indeed she who sent you, then it was because she knows I will have need of you."

"Maura said your wife was dead."

"Dead, yes, to this mortal world. But she lives in the Presence of the Gods, and bears Their power. So she is a goddess – not one of Them, but one of those who serve Them."

"As you serve them?"

He nodded.

"Does that make you a ... god too?"

Again he gave me that bitter smile. "No. For I am mortal, and still under condemnation."

Srin burst back in with a tooled cylindrical leather case about two feet long and two inches in diameter, with straps and buckles dangling from it as if it were designed to be attached to something, like maybe a belt or saddle. He untied a flap covering the top and drew out a round rod of clear glass or crystal, about a foot and a half long. One end was flat, the other conical, with facets like a cut gem. He swapped hands, taking hold of the faceted end and holding the flat one out toward me.

I glanced uneasily at it. "What will happen to me if I ... fail this test?"

"You will die," my owner answered bluntly. "Failure alone would kill any ordinary man. Since you are decidedly not ordinary, I cannot say for sure what it will do to you. But I will know whether or not you are a true Bearer of the Wand, a vessel of power. If you fail, and the test itself does not slay you, then I shall, for you will be revealed as a trap and a lie. Take the Wand."

Clearly I had no choice. I had to take the test and hope I passed; if I refused, I was dead! I reached out gingerly, but recoiled as soon as I touched it. "It's hot!" I protested.

"If you grip it tightly, it will not burn you," Srin told me.

This sounded like contradictory advice, but I took a breath, gritted my teeth and grabbed it. The heat seemed to dissipate through my hand, up into my arm, in a comfortable sort of glow. I licked my lips. "All right. Now what?"

The Master leaned toward me, holding out his left fist once more. "Set the point against the ring," he directed.

That ring was the only one he wore, but it was otherwise completely undistinguished – just a plain band of dark grey stone, with not even so much as an insignia on its flattened bezel, as far as I could see. I held out the rod; its tip leaped to the bezel and stuck, like a nail to a magnet. The Master grasped his left wrist with his right hand, closed his eyes, and bowed his head.

For a few seconds nothing happened. I opened my mouth to ask another question, but the answer came first. Suddenly my body tingled in every cell, from the roots of my hair to the roots of my toenails, as if I had been jabbed with ten billion microscopic electric needles! It was one of the most deliciously enjoyable sensations I'd ever experienced – or would have been, if I hadn't been so scared! I tried to jerk away, to cry out, but again I was paralyzed. The tingle gathered and drew swiftly into a nearly unbearable rapture somewhere around my diaphragm; then it surged up and out with orgasmic intensity along my arm, into the Wand, and was gone.

I was freed from my paralysis, but that surge had taken with it every scrap of energy I possessed. I dropped the Wand and fell forward helplessly onto arms that folded up like wet noodles. Yet my mind was clear and active; I didn't feel faint, or dizzy, or ill in the least, just utterly drained.

Several pairs of hands caught me and unfolded my legs. "Not on his back," I heard the Master say. I ended up on my side, half on my belly, staring at Srin's boots.

"He is a Bearer!" the boy exclaimed.

"Evidently," the Master clipped, not sounding overjoyed.

Srin wasn't happy either. "Why?" he demanded. "Why would They send him? Are They displeased with me?"

"How could that be?"

"She promised!" Srin plunged on. "She said that I should be with thee to the end!" He halted abruptly, then added hesitantly, "Perhaps it is the end."

"Nay!" came the instant denial from his lord. "Torment me not with that hope. No, this bodes ill for all of us."

"She would not send harm to thee!"

"I said not so. But there must be a battle to come, so great a battle that I must needs have two Bearers – yet I have only the one Wand. And even worse – why this sending from another world, whose soul I cannot see? Surely there must be left in this world at least a few who have the sha'amoth talent."

I stirred weakly. "I guess I must have passed the test?"

"Aye." A hand was pressed against my brow; strength and energy seemed to flow from the touch throughout my body.

I levered myself up on one arm and then finally to my hands and knees. "What kind of battle is this going to be?" I asked urgently. "And against whom? Or what?"

"The Gods keep Their own counsel," the Master replied bitterly. "Whatever it may be, 'tis unlikely to be pleasant – for any of us. Hadranes, have you any elinun?"

"No, my lord. I'm sorry; I never use it."

"Well, he'd probably be better off without it, anyway. David, do you think you can make it back downstairs?"

"I think so," I said stoutly.

"Srin, take him downstairs to rest. Say nothing to anyone about this. But I am going to require nahma'alah, so our departure will have to be delayed another day or so."

"As you will, my lord." The boy helped me to my feet and gave me a steadying arm.

"The weakness will pass," he assured me in a neutral voice, as he helped me stagger down the stairs. "The first few times are difficult – and frightening. But with practice, you will be able not only to receive the Power, but to control and direct it."

"Practice?" I swallowed. "You mean ... I'm going to have to do that again? Lots of times?"

"That is the function of a Bearer," he told me sternly.

"So I'm a Bearer. And you're one too, I take it?"

He nodded curtly.

"So you've used that thing ... the Wand?"

"Many times."

"But ... what good is it?" I asked in bewilderment. "Sure, it feels great, but what does it do? Why do it at all?"

"There have been, and doubtless still are those who play with Power this way merely for the pleasure of it. But that is not the main point. Through the Wand, a Bearer can wield the Power, the khorm, of his lord, to do the same sorts of things that his lord would do."

Ostar's story popped into my mind. "Like knock down the walls of Ardos?"

He nodded. "I did that, yes."

"How?" I demanded.

"I commanded the earth to move under one of the gate towers, and it brought down the gate as it fell. I didn't actually 'knock the walls down.'"

"You commanded ... how?" I asked again.

He steered me to a remote corner of the servants' hall and made me lie down before he replied. "I shall try to explain," he offered, seating himself near my head. "My lord ... our lord ... is of the blood and lineage of Ard'dr, to which race the First Gods have given great khorm ... that is, strength and skill in sorcery beyond that of most men. Long ages ago, the Ard'drin ruled the Empire of the East, the Dragon Empire, when the lands hereabouts were naught but a barbarian wilderness. In those days, ministers sent forth by the emperor were Bearers of the Wand, thus carrying not only the word and authority of their master, but his sorcerous power as well.

"The Dragon Empire fell nearly a thousand years ago, prey to greed and corruption and rebellion. But our lord lives still, the last of the Ard'drin, and one of the greatest. For he is an Elder Lord, possessor of the Ark'khorm, the full power of the First Gods. When he sends me abroad bearing the Wand, I can command beasts and birds, wind and wave, the earth and all things in it, just as he can."

"All with that little rod?" I asked incredulously.

He gestured impatiently. "The Power is not in the Wand, but in the Elder Lord. One who is a Bearer can draw that energy, channel it through his body, and release and direct it through the Wand. This you must learn to do, as well as how to use it after you get it. Upstairs just now there was nothing to use it for, so my lord channeled it off, taking it back through himself. I doubt that you will ever do that exact same thing again, for it was only a test."

I was struck by a sudden compassion for the poor kid. He'd never been anything but nice to me, and here I'd not only clouted him in the head and left him lying on a garbage heap, but now I was threatening to take from him something that was obviously very precious to him. "I ... I'm sorry, Srin," I said awkwardly. "I don't like this mess any better than you do. If I had my way, I'd never touch that Wand again!"

He smiled. "Thank you, David. I appreciate that."

"And I'm sorry about hitting you, too. Like I told him. I don't want to hurt you, nor take your place, either."

"I understand. And you paid full measure as well. I have never had occasion to feel the lash, but I judge that it must be extremely painful."

"The way he lays it on, it is," I confirmed grimly. "Still, it's better than having a hand cut off!"

He got to his feet. "I must go now. Rest here until your strength returns. If any ask, merely say that you do not feel well."