Ghasts are considered a form of transmogrified being, as the hard ?ther they are made of is merely the final state of a transmogrification. This is the point where a being becomes so saturated with ?ther that its body cannot transmogrify any further, leaving an entity that retains little of its original body.

  Excerpt from 'Ozam's Compendium of ?ther Beings'

  Dovell observed the building in front of him. A noble's town-house, like so many in the Amber Quarter.

  “This is the place?” he asked the guard next to him.

  “It is,” the guard answered. “It came over the garden wall right here.” He pointed to the top of the wall. “It was moving so fast only Ristyk was able to follow it, so I signalled the captain instead.”

  “And it looked like a spider?”

  “Its shape was exactly like one. It had more than four legs for certain.”

  A conjuration of some sort, then. “After you heard the blast, how long did it take for you to get here?”

  “Not very long. We ran all the way here from Candle Square.”

  Dovell shifted his gaze and mentally measured the distance from here to the White Candle. Less than half a kivor.

  “Thank you, Renn. Rejoin your lance. They will need you.”

  “Yes sir,” Renn answered and hurried away.

  Dovell walked towards the building. He would have preferred to go after the ghast, but Third Lance was far more suited to that than his own lance so he left it in their hands. The investigation of the ghast's origin would be his to deal with instead.

  Bastian's face appeared at the corner of the wall. “Sir? You'll want to see this.”

  Dovell followed him into the yard where he found Tobiac staring up at a gaping hole in the wall on the first floor.

  “That's bigger than I expected,” Dovell said, looking at the gap that spanned the entire distance between floor and ceiling. “Renn said the ghast was only as big as a large dog.”

  “I don't think it was the ghast that made the hole,” Tobiac said. “Although it does appear like something crashed through it.” He kicked away a piece of broken brick.

  If the ghast didn't make that hole, what did?

  Dovell looked around the yard, a regular noble's garden being prepared for the coming summer with green shoots everywhere waiting to grow into flowers. There was nothing remarkable about it apart from it being littered with the remains of the destroyed wall.

  “Who lives here?” Dovell asked. “Is there anyone home?”

  “Don't know, sir,” Tobiac answered, rubbing his head. “Apart from that hole up there, the entire place is locked up tight, so I guess nobody's home. Nissek is busy trying to find a way in.”

  “Harra? Rooy?”

  “They're checking the area around the building and asking if any of the neighbours noticed anything.”

  Dovell nodded. “Good. Then let's help Nissek gain entry.”

  As if in response to his words the back door of the house swung open, revealing Nissek in the doorway.

  “Or not,” Dovell said drily. He walked towards Nissek and beckoned Tobiac and Bastian to follow him.

  “I didn't know you had a talent for lock-picking, Nissek,” Tobiac said as he went inside.

  “I don't. I found the front door slightly ajar.”

  A front door left open. Someone was in a hurry to get away from here. “And the rest of the house?”

  “Tight as a drum,” Nissek replied. “All windows shuttered, all doors barred and the furniture is covered up as well. Whoever owns this place likely fled the city days ago.”

  “We'll follow up on that later,” Dovell said. “Odds are the owner doesn't have anything to do with this anyway.”

  The men began silently investigating the dark town-house until Dovell almost tripped over a pouffe.

  “Tobiac,” Dovell said. “Get some light in here.”

  “You think it's safe, sir?”

  “If there is another ghast here, it won't care about it being dark or not. And I'd prefer to see it first before it sees us. Any humans are likely already gone.”

  As sun sigils started to illuminate the house, Dovell ran a finger over the surface of a nearby cabinet, drawing a thin line through the gathered dust.

  “Tobiac,” Dovell called. “Look for marks in the dust. Bastian, Nissek, follow me upstairs.”

  The stairs creaked loudly as Dovell ascended them, causing him to stop and peer into the darkness above him.

  “You think someone is still here after all, sir?” Nissek whispered.

  “No,” Dovell answered. “No humans at least.” He resumed his ascent. If there was anything up there that could hear them, it would have noticed them the moment they entered the house.

  At the top of the stairs a corridor stretched away into the darkness, with only a shallow light coming from the far end. There was a familiar scent here that Dovell couldn't immediately place. He took a few steps along the corridor and felt his boots slipping every time he put weight on them.

  A wet spot?

  “Bastian, light up a sun,” Dovell instructed. “Something is on the floor here.”

  The light instantly revealed what Dovell was standing in.

  “Blood,” Nissek said.

  Right, the smell of blood, Dovell thought, tasting a hint of iron in his mouth. And quite a lot of it too.

  “It's on the steps as well,” Nissek added.

  Dovell squinted, looking towards the back of the corridor. His initial assumption was that this house was the place where the ghast had been conjured, but it looked like there was more to it than that.

  The blood extended in a messy trail, stretching all the way to the end of the corridor. Dovell followed it with a deliberate pace, keeping his eyes and ears open. He had cast his bulwark, but didn't care much for putting it to the test if he could avoid it. A ghast the size of the one spotted could be capable of overcoming a person's magical defences.

  The trail turned into a smear just before it disappeared into the room where the light was coming from. Dovell pressed his hand slowly against the door, which swung open with a soft creak.

  Behind it lay a room, lit up by the stars and the two-days waning Light Moon, which were clearly visible through the gaping hole in the wall.

  There was nobody inside, alive or dead.

  Dovell stepped inside and glanced around. It was a storage room of some sort, with a mishmash of assorted items piled along the walls: old furniture, rolled-up carpet, a stack of wooden boards, two barrels, and some paintings. The centre of the room was empty apart from a large dark spot on the ground.

  More blood, Dovell thought, even before Bastian lit up the room confirming it.

  “What a mess,” Nissek said, shaking his head in wonder as he stepped inside. “What the blaze happened here?”

  I'd like to know the same thing.

  Dovell squatted down on the floor. “By the amount of blood, I'd say that at least one person died here. Or came close to it at least.” He signalled Bastian. “Check out the other rooms, but remain cautious.”

  “Sir,” Bastian replied and disappeared back down the corridor.

  “Perhaps a conjuration gone wrong?” Nissek offered as he turned over a chair that was lying on its side. “It looks like they cleared the middle of the room, making room for a conjuration circle.”

  “Possibly,” Dovell said, looking at the blood on the floor more closely. Between the smears there were several partially visible footsteps. “Three people at least,” Dovell continued, counting and comparing the sizes of the prints. “Four, if I include the owner of the blood.”

  He turned towards Nissek. “How many people would one need to conjure a ghast as big as this one?”

  Nissek shrugged apologetically. “Honestly, I have no idea. I didn't even know it was possible to conjure a ghast this size. Ever since—”

  “How certain are we that it was a ghast and not a horror?” Dovell cut him off.

  “We aren't certain, but as Renn told me the creature appeared to be made out of glass. That suggests its body was made out of hard ?ther rather than transmogrified flesh. Either way, the ?ther required to conjure it would have to be huge.”

  Realizing what he had just said, Nissek reached inside his tunic and retrieved a scrying stone.

  Dovell waited for Nissek to finish scrying the room.

  “And?”

  “I'm uncertain,” Nissek answered, narrowing his eyes at the dancing lines on the stone. “The ?ther is definitely volatile here, but nothing near the levels I would have expected had there been a large conjuration.” He shook his head. “It's a mess, sir. It appears spells from several different dyads were used here. There's no way to distinguish any individual ones.”

  He lowered the scrying stone. “I can try the dyad scrying stones, but I doubt they will make any more of it.”

  Dovell let out a disappointed grunt. No answers and even more questions. “Try the dyad stones anyway.”

  He rose and left the room. Maybe the others have discovered something.

  Bastian had nothing to offer, however, and neither did Tobiac downstairs.

  Frustrated, Dovell slammed his hand against the wall. Damn this. I know this is tied to the dark assailants, but how? Nothing about this makes any sense.

  “I don't get it either, sir,” Tobiac said, correctly guessing the source of Dovell's anger. “Why would they use a ghast? It's not like they aren't willing to get their own hands dirty; nor do they lack the equipment and training to do so.”

  “You took the words out of my mouth,” Dovell said. “I'm convinced this ghast came from our dark assailants, yet I have no idea why.”

  “Perhaps a distraction?”

  Dovell waved the suggestion away. “I thought of that, but I can think up at least ten different acts that would have served that purpose in a far more controlled and effective manner. Nor does it explain the blood.”

  “Perhaps it escaped from its bindings somehow?”

  Dovell scoffed. “I refuse to believe that a group that has the resources to blackshift more than twenty people would make a mistake like that.”

  It just doesn't add up. Either I'm completely missing the true purpose of this ghast, or it wasn't the dark assailants that released it. But if not them, then who? Who could possibly benefit from setting a ghast loose upon the city?

  “Sir?” a voice came from behind Dovell.

  “Rooy,” Dovell said, acknowledging the guard's presence. “Report.”

  “Only one thing, sir. Some of the neighbours heard a carriage moving through the street at high speed a short time after the blast. Nobody actually saw it, though.”

  Dovell raised his eyebrows. “After the blast? Wouldn't the men from Third Lance have seen it, then?”

  “I don't think so, sir. If they had, they would have mentioned it.”

  “You're right. They would have.”

  Dovell rubbed his forehead, trying to organize his thoughts. This might be worth looking into, but not now. “Contact the keep and tell them to send over some of the city watch to keep this place under guard. At the very least we should be able to find out something from the blood.”

  “Yes sir,” Rooy said. He looked around the room. “There's blood somewhere?”

  Dovell pointed to the ceiling. “Upstairs, and quite a lot of it too.”

  “Should I ask the keep to send for someone from the Alluvium as well, then?”

  “I'd rather not when we still have a ghast on the loose, but I suppose we'll have to risk it. The fresher the blood, the more they'll be able to tell from it.”

  Behind him came the sound of Nissek and Bastian descending the stairs. Dovell only needed one look at Nissek's face to know that the dyad scrying stones had not yielded any answers either.

  “No luck, I take it?”

  “None, sir,” Nissek replied. “The only thing I can say for certain is that most of the spells used there had Quintessence in them.”

  “I suppose that narrows it down from fifteen dyads to just five,” Dovell said wryly.

  “Yes sir. I'm also quite convinced that the hole in the wall was made by a Force spell. Not so much because of the state of the ?ther, more by the way the hole looks and how far the debris landed in the yard.”

  “I suppose you would know that,” Tobiac said with a smirk. “You left a pretty big one yourself at the White Candle.”

  Bastian snickered.

  “Witty,” Nissek said before continuing. “If I had to guess, I'd say that someone used Major Projected Force to blow the ghast out of the room.”

  “That doesn't sound like they were doing a controlled conjuration at all,” Dovell said.

  Nissek shook his head. “It doesn't. As I said before, volatility isn't high enough to suggest that such a conjuration even happened.”

  “What if they used a new method of conjuring?” Tobiac suggested.

  Dovell's face turned grim. “If someone devised a method to conjure ghasts this size without needing large amounts of ?ther, then we have a problem far bigger than we realize.”

  “It would also go against anything we know about ghasts,” Nissek added. “It's far more likely that if they didn't conjure it here, then it happened somewhere else.”

  His face lit up as he realized something. “It is even possible that the ghast had no connection with the people in this house at all.”

  “If they were attacked by it, then that would explain the blood,” Tobiac said.

  It does make more sense like that, Dovell thought as he considered this possibility. On the other hand, it adds yet another unknown party to this mess.

  “Sir?” Rooy called, runestone in hand. “I have some news from the keep.” Dovell faced him and immediately knew from Rooy's expression that it was going to be bad.

  “Nothing good, I see.”

  “No, sir.” Rooy paused for a moment to take a deep breath. “Ristyk is dead.”

  Even though Dovell was expecting something of this magnitude, he was still shocked. “How?” he asked simply.

  “He was following the ghast, keeping Third Lance informed of its position. The last thing they heard from him was that the ghast had climbed up onto the roof of a house near Hydara Cemetery. They found his body there later.” Rooy hesitated. “The keep don't know any details, but his corpse was half-covered in some kind of silk and—”

  Dovell made a dismissive gesture. “Enough. What about the ghast?”

  “Gone. They picked up on its ?ther wake, but it's moving too fast and the darkness isn't helping either.”

  “Anything else?”

  “The keep is sending someone from the Alluvium as you requested. She will be escorted by some men of the city watch.”

  Dovell studied the men around him as they all stood in silence for a moment. Third Lance shared the same barracks as them, so everyone here knew Ristyk well. Furthermore, none of the men here, except Dovell, had suffered the loss of a fellow guard before. They all knew that risks like this existed, yet Dovell had learned that there was a big difference between knowing it could happen and actually experiencing it.

  To his relief, however, nobody seemed to be seriously affected. They were shaken, but he also saw resolve and determination in all of their faces.

  Good. That's how it should be. He felt pride for a brief moment, but he was soon returned to the reality of the situation.

  “What do we do now, sir?” Nissek asked.

  “We go after the ghast,” Dovell said as he looked at each of his men. “I know I said I would let Third Lance handle it, but things are different now. They lost one of their own and they will be shaken and upset; they might do things they would not normally do. It is up to us to support them.”

  “Yes sir,” all his men said in unison.

  “Bastian,” Dovell said, “wait here for Harra and the city watch. After they arrive, join up with us. The rest of you are coming with me.”

  Dovell grasped the hilt of Bellphon on his back. “We are going to stomp a spider.”

  Hydara Cemetery was one of the oldest locations in Rios, even predating the Second Bane. When Fifth Lance arrived there, Dovell halted next to one of the tall plinths that held up the fence surrounding the cemetery.

  Looks the same as ever.

  The statues that had once stood upon the plinths were mostly gone, with only a handful remaining in a recognizable state. The one that Dovell stopped next to was called 'The Prince': a statue of a young man dressed in a peculiar-looking outfit who was pointing a broken sword upwards to the star-strewn sky.

  Dovell reached out and ran his hand along one of the metal bars of the fence that bridged the gaps between the plinths. Ghost steel, Dovell thought as he stared at the dark-green metal that dimly reflected the sparse light in the area.

  “Are you looking to have a new sword forged, sir?” Tobiac said with a forced smile.

  He's making a lot of jokes. I suppose that's his way of dealing with Ristyk's death. I shouldn't be too hard on him.

  “If you know of a way to forge ghost steel, then yes please,” Dovell replied. “The secret to this material was lost during the Second Bane. Regardless, If I were to use these bars, the citizens won't thank me for it.”

  “Why's that, sir?” Tobiac asked.

  Dovell let go of the fence and observed the starlit cemetery beyond. “There is a very old legend that somewhere in the cemetery a great demon from before the Bane was buried. Bound and sealed by this ghost steel fence that surrounds it.”

  “Really?” Tobiac said, his smile vanishing.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “It's just a myth,” Nissek interjected, slightly annoyed. “White Candle investigated that story many years ago and found no truth in it.” He struck one of the ghost steel bars with his sword, creating a whining hum as it vibrated.

  “They never managed to find out how ghost steel was made, but in the end it's still nothing more than a transmogrified metal. The builders of this fence were probably just looking for something that would last an eternity rather than trying to seal a demon.”

  The statement jerked Dovell back into the reality of their current predicament. While Hydara's demon may not have been real, the ghast they were chasing certainly was.

  “Nissek, how much longer till dawn?” Dovell asked.

  “Not long. We should see first light any moment now.”

  “Krat,” Dovell swore, mumbling other curses beneath his breath.

  “Why is that bad?” Tobiac asked. “Won't daylight make it easier for us to find it?”

  “Easier for us and easier for everyone else,” Dovell answered. “What do you think will happen when the citizenry realizes there is a huge ghast on the loose?”

  “There will be panic,” Tobiac said, understanding the problem.

  “And it will be a massive one,” Nissek added. “This isn't the Frontier where ghasts and the like are still a part of daily life. I doubt most people in this city have even seen one beyond the displays of the magic guilds. The Great Cleansing saw to that.”

  “The King is upset enough as it is about people leaving the city,” Dovell said. “If we don't deal with this before dawn...” He didn't finish the sentence as the implication was clear to all.

  “So how do we find it?” Rooy asked. “Are we going to try to follow its ?ther wake?”

  “No,” Dovell said. “Third Lance is already doing that and they are better at it than we are.” He raised a finger into the air as if he was lecturing. “What we need to do is not find a ghast, but find a spider that happens to be one.”

  Some of the men looked confused, which annoyed Dovell. As members of the Royal Guard, they should know these things.

  This is what happens when such knowledge is never put into practice.

  Nissek explained: “If a ghast is based on a living being, then it retains the behaviour of that being. According to Renn, it looked like a common cellar spider, so assuming that it used to be one, we should restrict ourselves to dark and warm places.” He raised a finger. “However, such behaviour takes time to resurface, and we have no idea how old this ghast is.”

  “Even if we assume it has regained its animal behaviour,” Rooy said. “Dark and warm doesn't narrow it down. Think how many cellars there are in this district alone.”

  “True, but at this size it won't be able to enter any buildings unless it stumbles across an open door. But more importantly, it will want to be in a place where there is a continuous ?ther leak.”

  “So the foundries, then?” Tobiac suggested hesitantly.

  Everyone stared at him in silence.

  “I mean, it's a ghast right?” Tobiac spluttered. “They can scry ?ther volatility over a great distance, can't they?”

  The foundries. Yes of course. Dovell had been wondering why the ghast had been moving in this direction and the foundries made sense in that regard. They were only shut down during the night for the minimal time required to let the nearby ?ther calm down.

  “That sounds like a solid possibility,” Dovell said. “Anything else?”

  “Not really,” Nissek said. “Apart from the White Candle, all the guild towers are on the other side of the river. The only other place I can think of is the Seventh District on account of Hyna, but I wouldn't even know where to begin to look over there.”

  “We will head for River's Turn then,” Dovell decided. “Rooy, contact Bastian and the keep and inform them of our destination.”

  By the time they reached River's Turn, the early light of dawn was already visible in the east and the workmen on the streets cast them curious looks as they passed.

  “Sir?” Rooy addressed Dovell. “I just received word that Third Lance lost the trail near the north side of River's Turn. The ghast's wake was no longer distinguishable there.”

  “It's here, then,” Dovell said.

  He clenched both his hands into fists. This will be where that thing meets its end.

  “How do we find it?” Rooy asked. “There must be at least twelve foundries and smelters on this side of the river alone. It could have climbed into any one of those and we have no way of easily checking them.”

  “I considered that,” Dovell said. “What we are going to do is put out some bait. Create an ?ther disturbance so large it will come to us.”

  “Yes, that could work,” Nissek replied, before a lingering doubt crossed his face. “But we have to do this before the foundries are fired up again; it will be pointless to try afterwards. And what did you want to use as bait, sir? We don't have enough time to prepare anything.”

  Dovell tapped his temple. “As you said, Nissek. The foundries will overshadow any disturbance we create, so we shall use one of them as bait instead.”

  He peered into the distance as if trying to find something. “Who owns the largest foundry on this side of the river? Metanni?”

  “Either him or whoever owns the one next to the Cheerful Deer Inn,” Rooy answered.

  “That's almost in River's End,” Dovell said. “If they lost the ghast in the north, then Metanni's is closer. Rooy, tell Third Lance to meet us there and have them tell any workmen they meet to let their forges and smelters rest until we say otherwise. We shall do the same ourselves.”

  Metanni's foundry was a vast building, located right next to the Lacine. Several workmen were already preparing today's batch of iron ore to be smelted as they unloaded the flat barges that brought in the ore from the Fire Mountains.

  As Dovell walked into the grounds, Metanni himself came rushing out of the main building. Dovell knew him as a personal friend of his own captain back when Dovell was just a regular guard.

  “Guard-captain Messchiel,” Metanni greeted him, bowing slightly. “To what do I owe the pleasure of having a lance of the Royal Guard visit my workshop?”

  His politeness was tinged with a hint of worry.

  “Serious matters, I'm afraid,” Dovell said, acknowledging Metanni with a curt nod. “I require every channeller already present to gather at your forge. All your heaters, mixers and coolers.”

  “Of course, Guard-captain,” Metanni said, bowing once more.

  Good, he's not wasting my time by asking needless questions. This was one of the advantages of being part of the Royal Guard. Few would dare to question anything you did or deny anything you asked for.

  It wasn't long before every workman had gathered next to the forge. Dovell eyed the collection of shabbily dressed men. Nine of them. That should be enough.

  Metanni's forge was located outside, underneath an overhang. It was a massive construction allowing access from three sides for several smiths to work it at once. Like most magical forges, it did not use any fuel to create its heat, instead relying on a small group of channellers that rotated pouring ?ther into the forge's heat spell.

  “Alright, men,” Dovell began. “You are going to heat the forge just as you usually do, only I need you all to pour every bit of ?ther you can muster into your casting. Do not hold anything back, as I need this forge to burn as hot as the sun itself.”

  The workmen exchanged nervous glances with each other.

  Metanni cleared his throat. “Guard-captain, if they do as you ask the forge will be ruined. It can't possibly stand that much heat—”

  Dovell cut him off. “I'm aware. You will be reimbursed for any damages.”

  He pointed towards the forge. “Get started,” he commanded, his voice brooking no contradiction.

  They all sprang into action, except for Metanni who was still standing dumbfounded. Dovell knew what he was thinking. If his forge was destroyed, it would be at least two moons, if not longer, before a new one would be ready. The rune contained within was not something easily crafted, and while the forge would be paid for, the lost business would not be.

  I'm sorry I have to do this, Metanni. I'll make it up to you some day. Dovell did not like having to destroy a man's livelihood, but he had no other choice. If they wanted to eliminate the ghast soon, this was their only chance.

  As the heat of the smelters and the forge started to warm the air around them, Dovell spotted Third Lance approaching from the north. Bastian and Harra were with them.

  “Guard-captain Arwoude,” Dovell greeted Third Lance's captain.

  “Guard-captain Messchiel,” Tees Arwoude said in return before falling silent. His eyes seemed vacant.

  Dovell swept his gaze over the faces of the members of Third Lance: all young men, including their captain. They showed a mix of grimness and disbelief and it was clear that Ristyk's death had affected them greatly. Renn in particular looked like he had been awake for three days straight compared to when Dovell had last seen him.

  He probably blames himself for letting Ristyk go after the ghast alone.

  “Have you spread the word about the foundries?” Dovell asked.

  “I have,” Tees replied, “though I do not know how long they will keep to it.”

  “If the ghast is nearby, it should not matter,” Dovell said. “Nissek is coordinating the effort, so please refer to him so we can make this work without creating a m?lstrom here.”

  A brief smile flashed across Tees' face but didn't reach his eyes. He walked towards Nissek, his lance dutifully following in tow.

  They look like beaten dogs, Dovell noted. That's not good. I need everyone sharp for this.

  Dovell turned towards Harra and Bastian, about to instruct them as well, when he noticed the crowd that was gathering in the street. The citizenry was no doubt curious about why two lances of the Royal Guard were here.

  “Harra, Bastian. Disperse that crowd. We can't have anyone here when the ghast comes.”

  “There are already many people out on the streets,” Bastian replied. “Someone is going to notice it for certain.”

  Dovell nodded, twitching his mouth into a grim line. “Can't be helped now. I prefer to have some people see it over several people being killed by it.”

  A scream pierced the otherwise silent dawn. Several people in the crowd frantically turned their heads in the scream's direction.

  “Here it comes,” Bastian said, as more screaming came from the distance. “That didn't take long.”

  “Get these people away from here now,” Dovell commanded. “Use force if you have to.”

  Dovell did not wait for Bastian to carry out his order, instead joining Nissek at the forge, which was now an infernal pit of heat. The coolers were doing their utmost to prevent the heaters burning themselves to a crisp. Metanni had ordered everyone to throw in all the metal bars and ore they had just to give the heat a place to go that wasn't the forge itself.

  Nearby, several lance members were casting spells, with two members of Third Lance striking a barrier created by Tobiac with spells of their own.

  “The ghast is coming,” Dovell informed Nissek.

  “Good,” Nissek replied, concentrating on the scrying stones in his hands, “because we can't keep doing this much longer. We already went past the crest point for Radiance and are near it for another three. Any more of this and we risk a blowout for real.”

  He raised his voice. “Everyone, cease your casting. The ghast is coming.”

  The guards immediately stopped and so did the workers, who jumped away from the now visibly glowing forge.

  Dovell could see the fear in their eyes. Up until now they had not known why Dovell had asked them to do this, but the word ghast made it clear instantly.

  “Do we still need the workers?” Dovell asked.

  “If the ghast is close by as you said, then no.”

  Dovell gestured to the workers and his voice boomed across the yard. “Hide yourselves inside!”

  The workers didn't waste any time following that order. They ran as if their lives depended on it, leaving only the guards of the two lances behind.

  Guard-captain Arwoude approached Dovell. “Dovell, I'm going to leave the destruction of the ghast in your hands. I fear my men are too eager to see it destroyed and might get themselves killed as a result.”

  Dovell nodded approvingly. He's accurately judged that his lance shouldn't be on the front line for this. No wonder he made captain at such a young age.

  “That would be best,” Dovell replied. “My lance is better suited for battle.”

  “I will keep my men in reserve, then, and make sure no citizens come near here.”

  Tees gestured his men to follow him, passing Harra and Bastian who were rejoining the rest of Fifth Lance.

  Nissek called after him. “Guard-captain Arwoude—one last thing. What elements did the ghast's ?ther wake contain?”

  The captain turned around and answered in an ominous a voice. “Quintessence and Entropy.” He tipped his helmet. “May the ?ther protect you.”

  Dovell felt an involuntary shiver run across his back. Quintessence and Entropy. So that means...

  “Void dyad,” Nissek finished his thought with a grim look on his face.

  “That's not good,” Tobiac said.

  “It's not,” Nissek agreed. “It explains how it escaped unscathed from that Force spell back at the town-house; physical force will likely be useless against it.”

  “So hitting it won't work?” Tobiac asked. “What do we do then?”

  “Would the heat of the forge destroy it?” Dovell said.

  “Maybe,” Nissek said. “But even if it did, I doubt it will enter it willingly.”

  “Then we'll just have to make it,” Dovell said. “Spread out around the forge. As long as you don't cast any spells, it will ignore you.”

  The men spread out around the yard as instructed and waited.

  Dovell swallowed, realizing how dry his throat was. He hadn't drank anything for a while now and the heat from the forge wasn't helping. Sweat ran down his face and he raised his hand to wipe it away, only to freeze mid-motion as he saw two dark legs appear on top of the roof of the foundry.

  The ghast had arrived.

  As it crested the top and made its way down, Dovell could hear ticking sounds as it stepped on the roof tiles, its body shimmering like an opaque grey crystal in the light of the rising sun in the east.

  It's the legs that make it seem so large. If you look at just the body, it's no bigger than a melon.

  The ghast dropped from the roof, landing near Tobiac, who instantly bolted away from it.

  Good. Don't take any chances. Dovell raised his arm and slowly drew Bellphon from his back. Its Sacred Charge spell would be useless against a Void creature like this, but when it came to heat, there were other things the blade could do.

  The ghast moved towards the forge, attracted by the Radiance that surrounded it. For a moment it seemed it was actually going to creep into the forge itself.

  Dovell held his breath.

  The ghast reeled and jumped backwards, its two front legs twitching in a strange manner.

  It is affected by heat after all.

  After jumping back, the ghast stood motionless, as if trying to figure out what had just happened.

  Dovell pointed his blade at it. The ghast appeared to decide the mishap was an anomaly, as it again started to move forward towards the forge, albeit more slowly. When the heat hit it for a second time, the ghast jumped back again, only this time in a less controlled manner, causing it to lose its grip upon landing. The body of the ghast hit the ground before it recovered itself. Its left foreleg was now bent in an unnatural angle.

  Dovell knew what was happening. The ghast part wanted to enter the forge so it could feast upon the swirling ?ther inside, yet the spider part was afraid of the heat that was clearly affecting its body.

  From the corner of his eye he could see Nissek circling around the ghast, trying to get behind it. If the ghast didn't move, Nissek would have the opportunity to force it into the forge, bringing it a swift demise.

  “Everyone,” Dovell called. “If heat can harm it, then leave it to me if we fail to push it into the forge.”

  “Yes sir,” his men echoed from around the forge.

  Bellphon's Inner Fire spell will be suitable for striking a killing blow, Dovell thought, focusing on his greatsword.

  “I'm ready, sir,” Nissek called as the ghast staggered back and forth. Both its front legs were useless now.

  “Hold on for a moment,” Dovell replied. His casting was much slower than normal as Inner Fire required mostly Radiance. Currently most of the nearby Radiance was enveloping the forge and the remainder flailed around wildly, which made it harder to channel.

  The ghast was reeling and slowly backing away from the forge. It looked like the spider part had won over the ghast part.

  “Okay, do it!” Dovell yelled, louder than he intended.

  With the booming sound of suddenly displaced air, Nissek cast his spell, sending the ghast flying against the side of the forge roof. It hit the top, causing it to roll over the roof and off the other side, where it crashed onto the ground.

  “Krat,” Nissek cursed. “I used too much power.”

  Dovell ignored him. He was already up and running towards where the ghast had landed. If they allowed it to recover, it would try to flee for certain.

  When he rounded the forge, however, he knew that his worries were unfounded. The ghast was flailing its now useless legs aimlessly, with only one of them capable of moving as it wanted. That single leg ground itself into the earth in an attempt to pull its entire body forward.

  “Be careful, sir,” came Tobiac's voice from somewhere behind him.

  “I'm always careful,” Dovell said, as he raised Bellphon over his head and swung it down at the ghast. The tip of the greatsword hit the ghast in the centre of its body, stopping there for a brief instant before the Inner Fire spell did its work and Dovell could continue his swing, cleaving the ghast clean in half.

  Dovell backed off slightly after the swing, yet the ghast's body lay still where it had fallen. Only some of its legs twitched, and Dovell sliced them off until there was nothing left that moved.

  “Sir,” Harra said. “Could you step away from the forge?”

  Surprised, Dovell looked at Harra, who wasn't prone to speaking.

  Harra was standing with his arms outstretched and his palms facing forward toward Dovell.

  Is he casting something?

  With a jolt of realization, he turned towards the forge, seeing that he was standing right next to it. Yet he could feel no heat as Harra was keeping him cool, just as the coolers had been shielding the heaters earlier.

  “Thanks, Harra,” Dovell said as he moved away from the forge.

  Harra nodded and lowered his arms.

  “So what do we do with this, then?” Bastian said, pointing with his toe at the ghast's remains from a safe distance.

  “We shall take care of that,” a voice said. It was Guard-captain Arwoude, who was approaching rapidly. He positioned himself next to the ghast, ignoring the heat from the forge, and looked down upon the creature with a mix of determination and anger. “There will not be a trace left.”

  “That's not going to happen, Tees,” Dovell immediately said. “We still have need for it.”

  “It killed Ristyk,” Tees answered simply. He tried to keep his voice steady, yet the anger in it was clearly noticeable. “I cannot leave it at that. This is not enough.”

  Dovell frowned and lowered his voice. “Ristyk got himself killed, Tees. He took too great a risk by following it so closely and you know that.”

  Tees exploded with anger. “He got himself killed?! How dare you say that! It was this thing...” his voice staggered, “... this vile thing.” He clenched his fist around the hilt of his sword.

  It's unfortunate he couldn't keep his earlier calm, Dovell mused, unperturbed by Tees' sudden anger.

  “If you want to blame someone for Ristyk's death, blame the ones who created this ghast. They are the ones who caused all this and they are the ones we need to find.”

  Dovell pointed Bellphon at the remains. “And we need this corpse to accomplish that. So why do you want to destroy it?” It was a rhetorical question, as Dovell understood perfectly well how the guard-captain felt.

  Tees didn't speak. He simply stared at the dead ghast below him as his eyebrows started to singe.

  “If you stay there any longer, you will burst into flames,” Dovell added.

  Tees looked up at Dovell. The anger in his eyes had vanished. Without saying anything, he stepped away from the forge and the ghast.

  “Go back to the barracks, Tees,” Dovell called after him, his voice softer now. “You and your men need their rest. We all do. This incident won't be the end of it.”

  Tees rejoined his men and Third Lance marched from the yard in silence.

  Tobiac exhaled loudly. “For a moment there I thought he was going to fight you, sir.”

  “He wouldn't do that,” Dovell said calmly, as he picked up a cloth to clean Bellphon. “It's just the shock of losing one of his men that caused him to act like that. I'm certain he will embarrass me greatly tomorrow with an apology in front of everyone. That's the kind of person he is.”

  “Guard-captain?” a voice asked. It was Metanni, who approached with fear in his eyes, keeping his gaze fixed on the ghast. “Is it over?”

  “Yes Metanni, it is over. Once we have removed this corpse here, you can resume your regular work.”

  “Is that a ghast?” Metanni asked, apparently not at all concerned with his work.

  Dovell didn't respond immediately, unsure of what he should say. I suppose it doesn't matter if I admit it. Other people have already seen it, so I better avoid creating wild rumours instead.

  “It is indeed a ghast. As you clearly saw, we needed your forge to lure it in and disable it. Ghasts like these are weak to heat.” Make it appear that you were in control the entire time.

  “Really?” Metanni said as he moved slightly closer to get a better look at it.

  “You saw what happened, did you not? From there?” Dovell pointed at one of the windows in the main building, which showed several faces pressed up to it.

  “Yes, I saw.”

  “Your forge will be famous now,” Tobiac added.

  “It will?” Metanni said, turning to Tobiac with a doubtful look on his face.

  “Of course,” Tobiac said, beaming a comforting smile. “Your forge helped destroy a ghast. Now, how many people can make that claim?”

  Leave it to Tobiac to spin nonsense into gold.

  Dovell signalled to Nissek, who had found a large piece of linen normally used to cover ore shipments. Using some of the metalworking tools, Harra and Rooy quickly deposited the remains of the ghast onto the linen, tying it up securely.

  “We will take our leave now,” Dovell said to Metanni, who was clearly already enthralled by the possibilities Tobiac was painting for him. ”If there turns out to be any damage to your forge, we will reimburse you as I promised.”

  Fifth Lance marched from the yard, carrying the ghast remains between them.

  Later that morning, Dovell was sitting in the dining room of the barracks, picking at some bread. He had ordered his lance to catch up on sleep after the long night, yet he could not bring himself to rest. The events that had happened the past night kept running through his head, leaving him unsatisfied. They had succeeded in killing the ghast, but in the grander scheme of things that meant little when the important questions remained unanswered.

  Who conjured this ghast and why? What happened at the house with the blood? It had to be linked to Callium's actions at the Candle somehow. The timing between the two events was too close to be coincidental.

  He brusquely rubbed his forehead. There has to be something that ties it all together.

  Nissek entered the room. “Can't sleep, sir?” he asked as he took a seat across the table.

  “Too many things on my mind,” Dovell answered with a tired voice. “I see it's the same for you too.”

  “If you're like me, you're wondering about our spider,” Nissek said, taking a loaf of bread from the basket.

  “Among other things. It just doesn't make any sense. Even if I ignore everything else and just focus on why anyone would want to conjure a ghast, I come up with nothing.”

  “A distraction, perhaps? Or perhaps a way to cause a panic in the city?”

  “Both possible,” Dovell said, “yet neither would be served best by conjuring a ghast. Not by any measure.” He shook his head. “If it was a panic they wanted, why not release it during the day in some crowded place? And if it was intended as a distraction, what did they want to distract us from? The sanctum was resealed before we even left the White Candle.”

  “I see what you mean,” Nissek said. “It's all very strange. The ghast itself as well.”

  “How so?”

  “I don't understand why they used a spider as a base,” Nissek said. “Small creatures like that have a greater chance of dying during the conjuration because there is less matter for the ?ther to latch onto, which is what leads to such massive size increases.”

  “I assume they used what was available to them.”

  “Perhaps,” Nissek replied, taking a moment to swallow his mouthful. “But how much time does it take to find a cat, a chicken or even a head of cattle? It's like they performed the conjuration without any preparation and just used whatever happened to be nearby.”

  The last of Nissek's words lingered in Dovell's mind. Whatever happened to be nearby.

  The revelation hit him as if he had been struck by lightning and he slammed his hand on the table. “That ghast wasn't conjured. It was spawned. That has to be it! It's the only way the ghast makes sense!”

  Dovell lowered his voice so as not to wake the sleeping men. “The reason I couldn't figure out what the motivation for conjuring the ghast was is because there was no motivation.”

  “It was an accident,” Nissek said, immediately picking up on the captain's logic.

  “Exactly. The ghast was just an unforeseen side effect, completely unrelated to the actual goal of the magic used.”

  Nissek thought about that for a moment. “That would make sense, except for one thing. If it really was a spawning, then the ?ther volatility caused by the actual spell would have to be enormous. Effectively, we are talking about an actual ?ther blowout here, and if something like that had happened inside the city, then we would have noticed for certain.”

  “Not if it happened inside a warded sanctum.”

  Nissek looked confused. “So you think the ghast came from within the sanctum? I don't see how that would be possible. We secured the entire sanctum for just such an event. There is no way that ghast could have slipped past us.”

  “It was a Void ghast, so it could have blackshifted?” Dovell wondered aloud.

  Nissek shook his head. “A blackshift would have allowed it to leave the sanctum without us noticing, but it being a Void ghast is merely an indication of the elements most prominent in its creation. It doesn't mean such a being knows the patterns required to weave a spell.”

  Dovell looked confused. “I heard stories of ghasts being able to cast spells they devised by themselves.”

  “They can, just like every ?ther being, but a ghast's own spells are usually random. Patterns they stumble upon by chance. The odds of a Void creature just happening upon a Blackshift spell aren't zero, but very close to it.”

  “Which means it was mimicked,” Dovell said. “Ghasts that copy spells someone else cast nearby. Yet how would that have happened?”

  Nissek frowned. “I suppose it's possible, but it would still require someone to cast the blackshift beforehand and an active shift anchor nearby.”

  A bright flame flared up in Dovell's mind. “A shift anchor like the one set up in the town-house with the blood.”

  He did not feel his exhaustion anymore. It's so obvious. Why didn't I see this earlier?

  “Yes,” Nissek said after he considered the implications, “that might just be it. There is no way to tell on the side of the anchor when something is shifting, so the ghast would have caught whoever was there by complete surprise.”

  “Hence the blood,” Dovell added. “And the hole in the wall was the result of a spell cast in panic, just to get the ghast out of the room.”

  Nissek nodded. “That all fits, yet it does leave some gaps. Where did the ghast copy the Blackshift spell and who set up a shift anchor in that house? And why? It wasn't to serve as an anchor for the ghast, that's for certain.”

  “Are you certain that Callium didn't enter the sanctum?”

  “Absolutely,” Nissek said. “Every single person there was under watch the entire time. Both by eyes and by scrying for any volatility in Entropy and Flux. If they had tried to trick us by using some illusion of some sort, we would have noticed.”

  “Could they have shifted inside then, perhaps?”

  “I don't see how. Blackshifting requires an anchor and blueshifting requires channellers on both sides of the portal. Both mean you have to have someone in the sanctum to begin with. The only shift that would avoid both that problem is a grey or a whiteshift, but those only exist in theory; and if they could use either of those, then why bother with a blackshift to begin with?”

  He's right, Dovell thought, drumming his fingers on the table. There is a clear image forming here, but we still lack some pieces. There is no proof that Callium had anything to do with the ghast.

  Nonetheless, Dovell could not shake the feeling that Callium was involved. The sudden revelation that the barrier was failing was simply too suspicious, and Dovell didn't trust Callium one bit, especially not Karan de Ekkar.

  He's too smooth and slippery and always has a plausible reason for everything.

  On the other hand, he knew he should not let this distrust blind him to other potential suspects. The other magic guilds had kept their noses clean so far, but that didn't mean they weren't involved. Vendetta had been declared, and while this may have mostly been a gesture towards the citizens, at some point trouble was going to arrive for certain.

  And then there are the dark assailants as well, Dovell thought. Almost more suspects than I can count. I never could have guessed how much stability the White Candle guild provided to this city. Or how much disruption their absence.

  Still, he felt much better now that he believed he had at least gained some insight into what had happened last night. There were still many gaps, but it was no longer the complete darkness it had been before. The path he planned to follow was clear now.

  “Ever since the White Candle magistrae disappeared, we've been on the defensive,” Dovell said to Nissek. “From now on, we are going to put the pressure on them instead.”

  “Pressure, sir?” Nissek asked, somewhat surprised. “On who?”

  A faint smile appeared on Dovell's face. “Everyone.”