The image in my crystal dimmed somewhat, and I felt my influence over his mind slip. My power beyond the border, such as it was, was limited. The magic of the amulet held fast, though. If not for its boosting link through the crystal I doubted I would have been able to see much at all.

  Auric paused, shaking his head. I sensed his resistance and fought to overcome it, sending him soothing reassurances to calm him. It seemed best to compel him to think of this as being nothing more than a harmless dream conjured by his drinking. Happily he accepted the lie and I was able to get him walking again—deeper into Forlorn.

  For the first time in ages I was out of Barovia, by proxy only, but free. Perhaps it was the initial start of my path to a more permanent freedom.

  With most of the wolf pack bounding at Auric's side (the half-grown pups were left behind with some of the lesser ranking adults as guardians for them and my body) he marched swiftly over the last of the valley to reach the dark of the trees. Mindful of his human-dulled senses, I had him pause while my children forged ahead as scouts into the unknown territory. Barovia was a singularly dangerous place to be up and about after sunset; why should Forlorn be any different? I wanted them to see what threat, if any, it might hold.

  The wolves turned up nothing, so heading west, Auric trotted fast along the edge of the woods. On his left the wolves threaded more easily through the shadows under the trees, keeping pace. They were quieter now, as though aware of my wish for silence. He covered nearly a mile in this manner before he had to stop for a brief rest.

  As he puffed and blew to catch his breath, I noted a change in the wolves. They snuffled about, excited about something. I had Auric listen hard, but nothing came to him in the quiet night air. He was growing afraid; I felt it welling up in his mind and again had to ease his fears by reminding him he was having only a vivid dream. It would do no harm to see it through. His vulnerable mind again accepted the lie, since anything more exotic was quite beyond his experience.

  In keeping with the illusion of a dream, I had him draw his sword and hold it at ready. I almost seemed to feel it myself, the weight comfortable in my grip, bringing forth a rush of memories of old battles. I had been human then, susceptible as any of my soldiers to injury and death. The feeling of heady excitement overwhelmed me a moment; I'd forgotten what it felt like to put everything at casual risk, to once more live on the edge of utter destruction. Though it wasn't really myself in peril, this was the closest I had come to the brink in ages. It was quite exhilarating.

  Something of this must have passed through to Auric, for he needed no urging on my part to move forward, walking parallel to the edge of the forest until coming even with the restless wolves again. Most cooperative of him, to be sure.

  I had him take a final look around to set his bearings. Far ahead to the west I discerned a featureless pale wall following the lay of the land. At this distance it had to be huge to be seen, rising very high indeed into the sky.

  The Mists.

  My prison had grown larger, but was still a prison.

  The damned stuff must be marking the border of Forlorn now, encompassing the new land. How far did it extend? Was there yet another country joined to Forlorn? Had other lands suddenly attached themselves to Barovia as well?

  I suppose I should have foreseen it, but hope tends to block out the negative aspects of a new situation. At some point I would have to school myself to become an unrepentant pessimist, for then I should have to endure only pleasant surprises. With a snort of disgust I pushed the whole business from my mind and had Auric enter the forest, following the wolves.

  They were of great help finding a path in the right direction, my children easily sniffing out a thin trail he would never have discovered on his own. The foliage above was so thick as to block out even the strongest noon sun, so the path and all about it lay in a murk black at night. Using his sword like a cane, he kept his free hand on the shoulders of the pack leader to guide himself forward.

  The oak trees abruptly opened, and he stood at the outer edge of a clearing no more than twenty paces across, the grassy floor dipping down like a shallow bowl. The oaks formed a too perfect circle, having obviously been planted and carefully tended centuries ago. The youngest of these patriarchs was at least four feet in diameter. Mistletoe twined around the boughs of the trees. In their center was a flat round stone like a table with many horizontal and vertical slashes marking its rim. Runes of some sort perhaps? The perfect circle of oaks. The mistletoe. The stone altar in the center of the grove. All of this tugged at my memory. Something I had seen in my life before coming to Barovia? Something I had read? No. An image of Alek Gwilym suddenly came to mind, our war horses standing upon a stony ridge that overlooked a valley spotted with oak trees. Many years ago it had been, years before my fateful transformation. Looking down into the valley as we had awaited the approach of the enemy's troops on the opposite ridge, he had relayed to me a story he'd heard from his grandfather about an order of priests in his northern homeland who held the oaks as sacred. Derwyds? No. Druids.

  A druid's sacred grove. It was probably surrounded by magical protections, though those had proved futile against my wolves. Something else had drawn them here, then. The scent of old blood? Another torn up victim left by the horrors hiding in the forest? Where were the druids?

  I could sense a distinct presence which was unknown to me. It reminded me of the residue of some spell or magic, not unlike certain spells I sometimes employed to disguise my presence, yet it was somehow different. Were the druids using some foreign magic to hide themselves? No. I was sure that had that been the case I could still have broken through their protections. This was different. Similar, but different.

  The grass was undisturbed; no one had come this way recently to tread it down, but the circle did not look abandoned. Chances were the druids were fast asleep at this late hour safe in some other part of the forest. It did not explain the lingering presence I felt, but since I could see no immediate threat I committed the spot to memory and prepared to leave, with the idea of perhaps returning by means of my crystal to observe from afar later.

  The pack leader suddenly began growling. Auric held his breath and listened. Perhaps the druids had set up some kind of magical trip wire that alerted them to the presence of a stranger and were coming after all. It seemed likely, so I had him order the wolves to retreat a few yards. Better that he appear to be a lone and harmless traveler than any kind of threat.

  On the other hand, I hadn't discounted Auric's story of mangled bodies. I had him walk to the center of the circle, sword ready, ears straining. I could sense no spell work, but that could easily be because my senses were hampered by having to come through Auric.

  The forest was preternaturally quiet. If something was moving under the dark boughs, even Auric's dulled hearing should have heard something of their movements. The faint starlight from the opening in the branches above helped me spot occasional stirrings in the undergrowth in all directions. Taking to the center might not have been such a good idea after all. It's one thing to appear vulnerable, and quite another to actually be that way.

  I saw the glow of their red eyes first, peering out between the tree trunks. Like Azalin's, their lurid light was from a fire within, not the result of any reflection.

  Linked as I was to Auric's mind I felt what he felt. The hair on his neck prickled; his breath froze in his throat as the first of them stepped from the cover of the trees, a twisted figure with a flattened skull and the wide mouth of a frog, full of needle-like teeth. Auric could pick up the death smell clinging to the thing. The stink was from its last meal, the gory evidence of which soaked the rags clothing its rough hide. That must have been what had drawn the wolves in.

  Another of the ugly brutes appeared, then another until more than a dozen surrounded him. Some carried bladed weapons, but most were content to rely on their huge clawed hands and teeth. They had once been human, but no longer. Some dark magic or curse had changed them into these deadly, utterly fearless creatures. Never had I seen such creatures, though the Vistani had often whispered of them. Goblyns.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Auric was fortunate that I was present to take charge of things. His initial reaction was to run, which would have soon been the death of him. Instead I fought to hold him in place, calming the panic in his mind with patient reason.

  It is only a dream. Give up full control of yourself to me and you will live to wake. Thus did I whisper into his stunned mind.

  His reply was faint but affirmative. Perhaps he had no better idea of how to face this dream turned nightmare. It was as well for him that he was so cooperative. So far did he go in giving in to my wish that I almost felt fused to him in a strange way. We were separate beings seeming to share one body and for the moment he was allowing me to fully use it.

  The monstrosities were apparently more accustomed to facing a surprised foe paralyzed with terror than a trained warrior ready and willing to attack with the same heartless ferocity of which they were capable. Growling, rolling their eyes, and flashing their teeth might give them the advantage with anyone else, but not with me. I kept worse things in the castle dungeons as pets.

  The first moved toward us, taking its time or so it seemed in my reckoning. When the blood rage of battle is on me, my perception of events alters. Auric's body, responding to my urgent influence, stepped forward and used the sword for the purpose for which it was best designed, cutting the goblyn in half at the waist. It took more effort than I'd anticipated, but then Auric was not as strong as I would be were I there. Nonetheless, we didn't pause, and on the return sweep our blade rendered the same grisly service to the next one that dared approach.

  The rest had little reaction to the demise of their fellows. From what the Vistani have told me, goblyns are created creatures, subject to the will of their master without much brain of their own. It is both a weakness and a strength; they aren't clever, but that makes them too stupid to retreat. The only way to stop them is to kill them, or if their master calls off the attack himself.

  This spun through my mind as we killed two more. It was all the rest would allow as they rushed to close their circle around us. Retreating, we hurriedly leaped over the fresh bodies, reached the edge of the clearing to put our back to a tree, then I had Auric call for the wolves.

  My children joyfully darted from their cover, their full throated snarls more than drowning out the cries of our common enemy. While they provided distraction, we waded into the slaughter, stabbing a goblyn and taking its short sword away. A second weapon doubled our effectiveness, but one of them clubbed us and another swiped a claw at our left flank, connecting. Auric felt the impacts but I paid little attention, being too busy keeping him in motion to pause.

  Whenever one fell another took its place, but their numbers were finite, and they were hard pressed to deal with both Auric and the wolves. The latter did not seem to hold their interest. A goblyn, being dragged to the ground by three wolves, still futilely tried to reach out for us, even as it was being torn to shreds. We cut our way through two more, but I felt Auric slowing. His body was reaching its physical limit. His breath sawed in painful gasps, and he was losing muscle control. The goblyn with the club got in another strike, this time cracking it solidly down on Auric's left arm. He could not help dropping the blade. The goblyn tried for another strike, and if the wolves had not gone for the thing just in time, we might have come to grief then and there.

  There were some five or six left, and Auric was fast nearing exhaustion. It made it more difficult for me to order him about. Our link through my hypnosis and the amulet was beginning to waver. I forced him to use his injured arm to fish out the copper wand, then actually spare a look at his hand to see if the wand was in the grip of his numbed fingers. With his breath almost gone, it was hard to make him speak the necessary words of summoning. I thought he had botched it, but suddenly saw a flare of light as the energies stored in the wand obediently lashed forth, hurling themselves against their targets, engulfing them.

  Screams. Earsplitting, twisting, agonized screeches—And then it was all over except for the stink of burned flesh.

  Auric fell back against the tree for support, panting like my wolves, who had had the sense to dodge out of the way when they saw the daylight bright glow forming around his left hand. They were quite clear of the area when the blue and purple flames licked out to envelop the remaining goblyns. For a few moments the grove was lighted by the malignant blaze of pure magical power as it ate the damned things to the bone. It burned itself out just as quickly, leaving behind charred corpses and a thick drift of black smoke.

  The fire blinded us both for a short time. In the mine I blinked in frustration, until the afterimages of the goblyn's writhing forms finally started to fade from the crystal, and I could make out the shapes of my wolves milling about. None of them seemed to be seriously hurt, which astonished me. If the Vistani rumors of them were correct, goblyns are deadly with their slashing claws, and their usual form of attack is to grasp one's neck and start tearing into your face with their long teeth. They supposedly subsisted on raw flesh and were not above cannibalism, though unwary hermits had apparently been the preferred diet for this mob.

  Druids might also be included, if they had allowed themselves to be captured. Auric's fellows were not the only ones inhabiting this forest to judge by this grove. He had made no mention of them, and I had specifically asked if anyone else dwelled in Forlorn. He was honestly ignorant of their presence. That was not too surprising. If the druids were as reclusive a lot as I remembered from Qwilym's tale, they could be as evasive as shadows.

  The other mystery was why the goblyns had not been more forceful in their attack. Auric, even with me controlling his moves and with the help of the wolves, was still no match for a dozen of them. If they had really wanted to kill they should have succeeded. Therefore their master desired a prisoner, not a half-eaten carcass, which left the questions of who their master might be and how he'd known to send his servants.

  The latter seemed to have a ready answer: perhaps the lord of this tiny country was as aware of intruders entering as I was for my own land. Was he like me, a child of the night? Or perhaps another lich like Azalin? Charming thought. Dare I hope that he was also trapped within his borders? Certainly I could hope, but I would prepare for the worst just in case. Yes, there were decided advantages to being a pessimist.

  The castle Auric mentioned seemed as good a place as any to start looking into things, but I wasn't certain where it was. Oh, to be able to transform into a bat for a real view of the forest, not to mention leaving behind the distracting hurts Auric had collected. His arm throbbed mightily, a bruised bone perhaps, and the clawing he had taken burned like fire. He was becoming harder and harder to influence, to convince him that this was an unpleasant dream. He kept shaking his head, saying he wanted to wake up and leave.

  A good idea, that. For all I knew a second lot of the disgusting creatures might this moment be on their way to deal with his intrusion. My grip on Auric was weakening by the minute, but I hated having to leave behind the dead goblyns. Portions of them could prove useful as components for certain kinds of spellwork, and the waste was galling. Perhaps I could hire people to cross the border and bring back a body or two. My wolves were making immediate profit from several of them already—as a change from preying on sheep and the occasional shepherd, I supposed.

  The more I thought on it the greater my annoyance grew. I might as well get something tangible out of this expedition for all this trouble. Tired as Auric was, he could take at least one of the smaller ones along.

  With considerable coaxing I had him pick out a corpse with a straight heart wound and order the wolves to pull it from the grove. I didn't want any protective magic lingering there to interfere with my spell. I told him to raise the wand directly over head and gave him the word to activate its stored travel incantation with the instruction to return himself and his burden to the mine.

  He, along with the dead goblyn, appeared just outside the entrance, much to the surprise of the wolves there. I wasn't worried about the wolves left in Forlorn; they could find their way home easily enough. Those that welcomed him now sniffed with fierce curiosity at the goblyn, but through him I ordered them off before they decided to make a meal of it. My complete control over Auric was suddenly back. He was within Barovia again. Not that I had any further use for him.

  A wave of weariness swept over him. Damn his weak human body. I relinquished my hold on his mind. The last fleeting glimpse I had through the amulet was the ground rushing up to meet him as he collapsed.

  I was Strahd once more, looking through my own eyes. And I was decidedly uncomfortable in this cramped alcove. Something weighed me down as well, lots of somethings. I shifted slightly, stirring them, and they squeaked and chittered nervously, trying to hang onto their new perch. Baffling for a moment, then I understood that hundreds of bats covered me toe-to-chin like a living blanket. It almost made me laugh. Very devoted of them to be sure, trying to keep me warm.

  Simply standing up might crush some of them, so I avoided the problem by dissolving into mist form. They were discommoded anyway to tell by their surprised protests as their bed suddenly vanished. As I drifted toward the entry, I sensed them skittering and flapping around the cave chamber on their way back up to the roof.

  I continued on until feeling the push of outside air and resumed man-form again at the mine opening. I was grateful to be controlling my own strong body once more, free of Auric's slow reactions and other defects of mortality. The wolves snuffled at Auric's body but left him alone. Apparently any friend of Strahd's was a friend to them. The cubs were playfully crawling on top of him, tongues lolling as if with laughter.