face as horrible as any Adon had ever seen. It was impossibly haggard and covered with cracked, black skin. The figure's brow jutted out so far that it cast an impenetrable shadow over his eyes. His nose was as narrow as a dagger blade, his cheekbones were grotesquely misshaped, and a pair of yellow tusks curled up from beneath his lower lip. Behind the figure stood Broka, wearing his fur-trimmed cape and purple cummerbund. His face remained covered with boils, and his swollen nose and black eyes suggested that he had suffered a harsh beating after returning to Castle Gorgias last night. As the women began to scurry for their homes, the seneschal yelled, “Stay! The duke wishes you to see what passes here.” The crowd stopped moving instantly, leaving a wide swath of open plaza between the gruesome figure and the patriarch. Adon stepped away from Sarafina. “Lord Gorgias?” The duke tipped his head in acknowledgement and scuttled forward. “I've come to thank you for the change in my seneschal,” he, said, waving his gangling arm at Broka's ulcerating face. “He's much more interesting to look upon.” “Perhaps to you,” Adon allowed. The duke stopped a dozen steps away. “And now that I have expressed my gratitude, you and your novice must go,” he said. “Had you called at my castle when you arrived, you and I might have had an interesting debate regarding the Church of Mysteries-with a few hours on the rack to help you think clearly. As it is, however, I cannot allow you to spread your lies among my villagers.” Adon shook his head. “We won't leave while your curse remains on Tegea.” “Curse! Do you think I would curse the woman I love?” demanded the duke, gesturing in Sarafina's direction. “I'm broadening her sense of beauty, so that she'll appreciate the subtle elegance of my form.” “It's not your form that repulses me!” Sarafina snapped. “I loathe what you are inside.” “And what am I-inside?” “A tyrant, as cruel as you are vain,” said Sarafina. “I'd rather die alone than marry you!” A forked tongue flickered between the duke's lips. “I wonder if the other women of Tegea share your feelings?” “No!” screamed several of the women in the square. “Go with him now, or you'll make widows of us all,” ordered the matron, stepping toward Sarafina. Others moved to back her up, but Corene quickly drew her flail and blocked the women's path. Adon pulled a pinch of yellow brimstone from the pocket of his cloak. He uttered a silent prayer to Mystra, begging her to look favorably on the spell he was preparing to cast, then said, “Lord Gorgias will kill no one.” “Perhaps not-if you're gone by dusk,” said the duke, fixing his shadowed eyes on the cleric. “But if you're still here after highsun, every man in this village will die. Mark my words.” "If you threaten others, I've no choice but to strike you down in Mystra's
name!“ As the patriarch raised his arms to cast the spell, the women screamed in alarm and fled the plaza. The duke merely smiled while a fiery breach opened in the sky above his head. A pillar of flame crackled down toward his face. He watched it come, laughing wildly. When the first tongue of flame licked his bony brow, the fiery shaft stopped descending. The blaze fizzled away, and the crimson rift abruptly closed, leaving nothing but a column of gray fumes behind. Within moments, the smoke had disappeared in the breeze. No sign of Adon's spell remained in the sky. ”He worships Cyric!“ Corene gasped. ”Only someone under the Lord of Strife's protection could withstand Mystra's magic-and do this to a woman's face!“ She touched her fingers to her deformed cheek. ”Don't be foolish,“ scoffed the duke, stepping toward her and Adon. ”Your pitiful gods don't interest me. The only being worthy of my adulation is me.“ Corene leaped forward, swinging her flail at the duke's ribs. ”For the women of Tegea!“ Lord Gorgias allowed the blow to land. It glanced off his leathery hide. Then he grasped Corene by the wrist and uttered an incantation. A soft coat of downy fur immediately sprouted all over her body. Her arms and legs suddenly curled backward