with the ghost before it caught up to Cadderly, and before Aballister could lay claim to its destructive powers. Still invisible, the imp flew around in front of the marching ghost and perched on a low branch in a pine tree farther up its intended path.
The ghost sniffed the air as Druzil passed, even took a lazy swing that was far behind the fast-flying imp. As soon as Druzil had moved beyond its reach, it seemed to pay the unseen disturbance no more heed.
Druzil materialized as the ghost approached. "I am a friend," he announced, both in the common tongue and telepathically.
The creature snarled and came on more quickly, a blackened arm leading the way.
"Friend," Druzil reiterated, this time in the growling and hissing language common to the lower planes.
Still the advancing creature, focused on Druzil as though the imp was simply one more thing to be destroyed, did not respond. Druzil hit the ghost with a telepathic barrage, every thought signifying friendship or alliance, but the monster remained unresponsive.
"Friend, you stupid thing!" Druzil shouted, hopping to his feet and snapping his knuckles against his hips in a defiant stance. The creature was only a few yards away.
A snarl and a leap brought the monster right up to Druzil, the one unbroken arm coming about. The imp squeaked, suddenly realizing the danger, and gave a frantic flap of his wings to lift away.
Ghost ripped the branch right from the tree, hurled it aside, and smashed on viciously, and Druzil, caught within the canopy of thick evergreen boughs, scrambled for his very life, wings beating and claws tearing, trying to force some opening where he could slip through to the open air. He willed himself invisible again, but the monster seemed to sense him anyway, for the pursuit remained focused and relentless.
The creature was right behind him.
Druzil's whiplike tail, dripping lethal venom, snapped into the creature's face, blowing a wide hole in its hollowed cheek.
The creature didn't even flinch. The powerful arm came about again, tearing away a large branch, opening up the tangle enough so that the next attack would not be deflected.
Druzil clawed and kicked, fighting against the canopy wildly. And then he was through, bursting into the air where a few wingbeats brought him far from the snarling monster's reach.
The undead monster emerged from the battered tree a few moments later, stalking along the path, apparently giving no more concern to the latest creature that had fled from its terrifying power.
"Bene tellemara," the thoroughly shaken imp muttered, finding a perch on a jutting stone overlooking the trail and watching the uncontrollable monster's steady and undeniable progress.
"Bene teUemara"
Waist-deep in snow, Cadderly looked up the high, steep slope to the fog-enshrouded peak of Nightglow. Even using his magical spells to ward off the cold, the young priest felt the bite of the blasting wind and a general numbness creeping into his legs. He considered calling upon his most powerful magics then, as he had done to escape his misinformed friends, so he could walk along the wind up the mountainside.
Cadderly quickly reconsidered, though, realizing that he could not afford to expend any more magical energy - not with an old red dragon waiting for him. He shook his head determinedly and trudged on, step after step, hoisting one leg out of the deep, bogging snow and setting it firmly ahead of him.
One step at a time, higher and higher.
The sun had risen, the day bright and clear, and Cadderly had to squint constantly against the stinging glare of the rays reflecting off the virgin snow. Every now and then a section would shift under his weight and groan, and Cadderly would hold very still, expecting an avalanche to tumble down about him.
He thought he heard a call on the wind, Danica perhaps, shouting out his name. It was not an impossibility; he had left his friends not so far from here, and he had told them where he was headed.
That thought made Cadderly realize again how vulnerable he must now seem, a black dot on an exposed sheet of whiteness, climbing slowly, barely moving. Were any more chimeras or other winged beasts circling the area, hungry for his Mood? he wondered. Right before he had begun the climb of this last slope, he had mentally searched for any signs of scrying wizards. None were apparent, but Cadderiy had put up a few wards anyway.
Still, standing in the open on that slope, the young priest was not comforted. He pulled his