Chapter fourteenI, Dray Prescot, Vovedeer, Lord of Strombor and Krozair of Zy, had to make a chilling decision. And that fateful decision must be made quickly.
Well, then, better to meet that dire fate with a sword in my fist. The Krozair brand felt good. As firmly as I could I marched up to the door in the side of the corridor. My left hand did not tremble as I grasped the handle, which surprised me.
I flung the door open.
The room was empty.
I sucked in a lungful of air which still carried the foul taint of the undead creature. Now what? I turned about and a voice hailed from the corridor. “Hai! Anyone here?”
“Just me, Yavnin,” I shouted back and stepped to the door.
He was staring a trifle sickly at the remains of the poor devil ripped to pieces. “What deviltry’s been going on her
