Page 6 - Mad Shadows II

Fell was only a two-day ride east and south of Valdar. Since I
had nothing more pressing at the moment and prospects were
few, I nodded to Crystal, who nodded in return and then
vanished before my eyes could finish a single blink.

On the table, where she had been sitting, now lay a gold
sovereign: a half crown — the equivalent of fifty marks.

The well-dressed cyclops walked over to me, still smoking
his pipe. Standing about nine boots in height, he was nearly half
that in girth. He wore leather britches that covered him from
waist to ankles, and his black hooves were neatly trimmed and
polished. His shirt was made of black silk, and he wore a white
scarf and a black jerkin with narrow, silver stripes. Three horns
of varying lengths growing from the crown of his bald head
marked him as a cyclops from Clan Collossa. He was one of the
Muthologians from the distant realm of Khanya-Toth, a dark
land of magic and mystery, a land where ghosts and demons
and things without names lurk in the shadows, watching . . .
always watching.

I knew him quite well. His name was Vorengi Deega. He
controlled the gambling operations in Kortono’s Cave, as well
as other business interests throughout Valdar; a few of them
were even legal. In spite of the fact that he favored the scent of
gardenia, he was not a cyclops to cross or double-cross.

“Have a care, my friend,” he said, blowing a ring of smoke
in my direction. “When dealing with werecats you’re likely to
find yourself in strange places, bizarre situations and dangerous
doings.” Vorengi wasn’t just spouting off like some street-
corner doomsayer. He knew things most humans can’t even
begin to understand.

“Thanks for your support and encouragement,” I replied. “I
know all about werecats.”

“Sure you do.” He laughed, blew more smoke rings and
walked away.

I had no idea at the time how truly the big cyclops had
spoken. Neither did I have any idea my visit to Widow’s Fell

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