The vampiress, baring her fangs, curled and hissed at the intruding light

Pikel squeaked and launched himself, and his swinging club, smack into her, sending both of them tumbling down the stairs.

Cadderly swung about instinctively, facing up the stairs again, and threw up a defensive arm just in time to catch the charge of a ragged zombie. Back stumbled the priest, and Ivan, not really turning enough to comprehend what was happening up front, ducked and braced. Over the low and immovable dwarf went Cadderly and the zombie, rolling in a clinch to join Pikel and Histra in the hallway below.

Pikel did a series of short hops, trying to flank the crouching vampiress. He waggled his club threateningly, then came forward in a rush, angling the club out and turning a complete spin, once and then again. He swirled out of the ineffective routine, and, dizzy, stumbled a single step.

"Eh?" the confused dwarf asked, for Histra was not in front of him, not where she had been.

Her fist connected on his shoulder, and Pikel spun again. Fortunately for the dwarf, he rotated the other way this time, and somehow the counterspin took all the dizziness from him, so that when he stopped (and luck again was with him), he found himself facing the advancing vampiress squarely.

"Hee hee hee," Pikel snickered, and he came forth in a tremendous burst, stepping somewhat to the side of his foe. Histra veered quickly to keep square, but Pikel, solid on his big dwarven feet, shifted one foot ahead of the other and threw himself at her in a purely straightforward attack. Hardened muscles corded and snapped, and the dwarf's tree-trunk club sneaked past Histra's upraised arm to smack her squarely in the face. She flew back as though launched from a crossbow, to slam the wall, but before Pikel could utter another "hee hee hee," he realized he had not, in any way, hurt her.

Pikel looked down at his club, then to the confident vampiress, then back to the club again, as though the weapon had deceived him.

"Uh-oh," the green-bearded dwarf muttered an instant before Histra's powerful slap sent him spinning. He did a perfect two-and-a-half somersault, ending up standing on his head against the wall.

Cadderly had better success against the zombie. He came up much faster than the awkward thing, and his finger was already set in the loop of the cord to his spindle-disks, two small disks joined by a short metal rod. He sent the adamantine disks spinning down to the end of their cord and recalled them to his hand, once and then again to tighten the string. As the zombie finally pulled itself to its feet, Cadderly snapped them out viciously at the thing's face.

The young priest winced at the sound of crunching bone. The zombie staggered backward several steps, but, compelled by commands it had not the intelligence to question, it came right back in, arms stupidly out wide.

The spindle-disks slammed home again, right under the chin, and when the thing began its next advance, its head lolled weirdly, with all of the supporting neck bones shattered.

It didn't rise again after the third hit, but as it fell to the floor, a tumbling dwarven missile, Pikel Boulder-shoulder, went right over it, leaving the ground between Cadderly and Histra wide open.

Cadderly heard Ivan up on the stairs, engaged with some enemy. He glanced that way momentarily, then looked back to find that Histra had closed the ground, standing just a couple of feet before him, smiling that terrible, fanged smile.

Cadderly hit her solidly in the chest with the spindle-disks as she brazenly walked in, but the weapon only knocked her back a step, and she smiled again, even more widely, showing that it had not hurt her.

"Dear Cadderly," she purred. "You have no defense against me." Cadderly, like Pikel before him, looked down to the disks as if he had been deceived.

"Would you not prefer the fate I offer you?" Histra said teasingly. She seemed such a grotesque caricature to Cadderly, a mocking insult to the alluring, sensual woman she had once been. As a priestess of Sune, the Goddess of Love, Histra had primped and perfumed, had kept her curvy body in perfect physical condition, and had kept a light in her eyes that promised the purest of pleasure to any man she deemed worthy.

But now the skin of her face sagged, as did her cleavage, showing between the tatters of what had once been a beautiful crimson gown. And no perfume could overcome the burned stench that surrounded the maimed vampiress. Even worse, by Cadderly's estimation, was the look in her eyes, once a promise of pleasure, now the diabolical fires of unholiness, of evil incarnate.

"I offer you life," the ugly vampiress purred. "A better deal, for Rufo will offer only death."

Cadderly bolstered himself in the face of that awful image, and in the mere mention of Kierkan Rufo, using both to reinforce his faith, using both as a symbol, a clear reminder, of the fall to temptation. Up came his holy symbol, the light tube behind it, and never had the young priest presented the light of Deneir with so much of his heart in it.

Rufo had resisted Cadderly's symbol earlier, but Histra was not the master here, was still far from the full powers of vampirism. She stopped her advance immediately and began trembling.

"By the power of Deneir!" Cadderly cried, advancing a step, holding the symbol high and angling it down so that its flaring weight drove Histra to her knees.

"Well, we ain't going out that way!" A bruised and bloody Ivan cried as he half ran, half tumbled out of the stairway.

Cadderly growled and pushed the light lower, and His-tra groveled and whimpered. Then the young priest looked to the stairs, to the host of zombies that were shuffling down behind Ivan. He looked across the hall, to Pikel, who was thankfully up again and running in circles  - no, dancing, Cadderly realized. For some reason that Cadderly could not understand, Pikel was dancing around his club, gesturing with his stubby hands, his mouth moving more than Cadderly had ever seen it move.

Ivan took up the fight again at the entrance to the stairs, his mighty, wickedly sharp axe taking limbs off reaching, stubborn zombies with every swing. "There's a hunnerd o' the damned things!" the dwarf bellowed.

Something faster and more sinister than the zombies stepped through their ranks to stand before the dwarf. Ivan's axe met it head-on, and right in the chest, but as the blade connected, the vampire, not flinching, caught it by the handle and pushed it harmlessly aside.

"Hunnerd and one," the dwarf corrected dryly.

Cadderly growled and forced the symbol of his god right down on Histra's forehead, acrid smoke belching from the wound. The vampiress tried to reach up and fight off the attack, but there was no strength in her trembling arms.

"I deny you, and I damn you!" Cadderly growled, pressing with all his strength. Again, Histra was caught by the fact that she had not yet mastered her new state of undeath, that she could not quickly and easily transform into a bat or some other creature of the night, or melt into vapors and flow away.

"Hold him back!" Cadderly, knowing he had Histra defenseless, cried to Ivan. He started to call to Pikel, but just grunted, seeing that the dwarf was still weirdly dancing, worried that the dwarfs sensibilities had Seen knocked clear of his green-bearded head.

Ivan growled and launched a furious attack on the vampire, hitting the thing several times. But the monster, and its horde of zombies behind it, inevitably advanced. If it had been a loyal thing, a true comrade, the vampire would have rushed past the dwarf to save Histra, but as one of Rufo's two remaining vampiric minions, Baccio of Carradoon looked upon the powerful young priest and his flaring holy symbol and knew fear. Besides, Baccio realized, the demise of Histra would only strengthen his position as Rufo's second.

And so the vampire allowed this frantic and ineffective dwarf to hold him at bay.

Soon Cadderly was engulfed with black smoke. He kept up his call to Deneir, kept pressing the eye-above-candle on Histra's forehead, though he could no longer even see her through the acrid cloud. Finally, the vampiress collapsed, and Cadderly heard the thump as Histra fell hard to the floor. As the smoke wafted away, Cadderly saw that it was finished. He could only imagine - and he shuddered when he did! - the reward that awaited Histra. He thought of black, huddled shadows pouncing on her damned soul, dragging her down to hellish eternity. Still, the vampiress seemed much more peaceful in real death than she had a moment before. Her eyes reverted to their natural color, and she seemed almost at rest. Perhaps even great sins could be forgiven.

Cadderly had no more time to think about Histra. A single glance over his shoulder told him that he and his friends were being beaten back once more, that they could not, despite their fears for Danica and their determination to rescue the monk, defeat the library, Rufo's library, in the dark of night

Baccio, too, had seen enough. With a single swipe of his hand, he sent Ivan flying away, skidding across the floor right beside Pikel. Pikel picked up his dub with one hand and his battered brother with the other.

Cadderly cried out and faced the vampire squarely, presenting his symbol as he had against Histra. Baccio, an older and wiser man, and one who had more willingly gone into Rufo's service, flinched, but did not back down.

Cadderly thrust his arm forward, and Baccio winced again. Cadderly called out to Deneir and advanced a step, and Baccio found that he had to fall back. It lasted only a second, and Cadderly knew he had the upper hand, knew that if he pressed on with all his faith, he could destroy this one as he had destroyed Histra.

Baccio knew it, too, but the vampire smiled wickedly, unexpectedly, and mentally commanded his legion of zombies to swarm about him, to block him from the light of Cadderly's faith.

The first of those unthinking monsters was limned with light, as were the zombies Cadderly had met and defeated when first he and the dwarves had come back into the library. That one dissolved to dust, as did the next, but there were simply too many of the things.

Another shriek, a most terrifying wail, resounded off the walls, echoed down the stairway.

"The master is coming," Baccio mused from the back of the horde.

'To the door!" Ivan cried, and Cadderly, though his heart ached to think of Danica in this ungodly place, knew the dwarf was correct.

They rambled down the hall, easily outdistancing the slow-moving zombies. Pikel spun around the firswloor, slammed it closed behind them, and threw its latch.

"We will take another way up," Cadderly remarked, and he began scouring his memories, searching for the fastest route to the back stairs.

Baccio's hand smashed through the door, and the vampire's fingers casually began searching for the latch.

The three friends were running again, through the small rooms, past the kitchen, closing every door behind them. They came into the foyer, the dwarves angling for the open door, and Cadderly tried to push them straight across, toward the south wing and main chapel, where there was a balcony that led up to the second floor.

"Not out!" the young priest insisted.

"Not in!" Ivan promptly countered.

Kierkan Rufo was before them suddenly, halfway between the door to the open night and the door to the hall that would take them to the main chapel.

"Not anywhere," Ivan, skidding to a stop, remarked.

Up came Cadderly's holy symbol, the light tube shining behind it, casting its image on Rufo's face.

The vampire, trembling with rage at Danica's death, didn't shy away in the least, but began a steady approach that promised nothing short of a terrible death to the young priest

Cadderly invoked Deneir's name a dozen futile times. They had to get out over the threshold, he realized, out of the place that Rufo had come to call home.

"Get to the door," he whispered to his companions, and he boldly stepped out in front of them. He was Cadderly, he reminded himself, chosen priest of Deneir, who had faced a dragon alone, who had sent his mind into the realm of chaos and had returned, who had destroyed the evil artifact, the Ghearufu, and who had overcome the terrible legacy of his heritage.

Somehow none of that measured up now, not against Rufo and the fall this vampire represented, not against the ultimate perversion of life itself.

Somehow, somewhere, Cadderly found the strength to move out from the dwarves, to face Rufo squarely and protect his friends.

So did Ivan. The brave dwarf realized that Cadderly alone might be able to face off against Rufo and win. But not in here, Ivan knew. Cadderly could beat Rufo only if the young priest could get out of this desecrated place. The yellow-bearded dwarf gave a whoop, charged past Cadderly, and skidded up before the vampire (who never took his flaming eyes off the young priest, his mortal enemy). Without fear, without hesitation, Ivan whooped again and slammed Rufo with a wicked overhead chop.

Rufo brushed the axe away and seemed to notice Ivan for the first time.

"I'm getting real tired o' this," Ivan grumbled at his ineffective axe.

The only luck poor Ivan had was that Rufo's mighty punch launched him in the general direction of the open door.

Cadderly came in hard and fast

"You cannot hurt me!" Rufo growled, but the young priest had figured something out. He presented his symbol as best he could, holding both it and his light tube in one hand, but the real weapon was in his other hand. His finger was still fast in the loop of the spindle-disks, but they bounced along low to the floor at his side, for Cadderly now understood that they would have no real effect on a vampire. As he rushed, he had taken his second weapon off his belt, his ram's-head walking stick, which had been enchanted by a wizard friend in Carradoon.

Rufo unwittingly accepted the blow, and the enchanted weapon tore the skin from half of his face.

Cadderly's arm pumped again for a second strike, but Rufo caught his wrist and bent it over backward, forcing the young priest to his knees. Cadderly straightened his arm holding the holy symbol, used it to intercept Rufo's closing, leering face.

They held the pose for what seemed like eternity, and Cadderly knew he could not win, knew that in here even his supreme faith could not defeat Rufo.

He felt a splash against his cheek. Cadderly thought it blood, but realized in an instant that it was clean, cool water. Rufo backed off unexpectedly, and Cadderly looked up to see that a line of burned skin had creased the vampire's other cheek.

A second stream drove Rufo back, forced him to relinquish his grip on Cadderly's arm. The surprised young priest grew even more confused as Pikel stalked by, his waterskin tucked under one arm, every press sending a line of water at the vampire.

Rufo slapped at the water with smoking fingers and kept backing until his shoulders were against the foyer wall.

Pikel stalked in, his face as determined as Cadderly had ever seen it, but Rufo, too, straightened and stiffened his resolve, the moment of surprise past

Pikel hit him again with the spray, but the snarling vampire accepted it. "I will tear out your heart!" he threatened, and came a step from the wall.

Pikel exploded into motion, turning a complete spin that dropped him to one knee and sent his club knifing across low to catch Rufo on the side of the leg. Surprisingly, there came the resounding crack of snapping bone, and the vampire's leg buckled. Down went Rufo heavily, and squealing Pikel was up and over him, club raised for a second strike.

"We got him!" unsteady Ivan bellowed from the door. Even as his brother cried out in victory, Pikel's club banged hard off the stone floor, rushed right through the mist that Rufo had become.

"Hey!" roared Ivan.

"Oooo!" agreed an angry and deceived Pikel.

"That's not fightin' fair!" Ivan spouted, and the yell seemed to take the last of his energy. He took a step toward his brother, stopped and regarded both Pikel and Cadderly curiously for an instant, then fell down flat on his face.

Cadderly glanced all around, trying to discern their next move - back in or out into the night? - while Pikel went for his brother. The young priest understood that Rufo was not defeated, knew that the other vampire and the host of zombies were not far away. Cadderly's eyes narrowed as he carefully scanned the foyer, remembering that Druzil, wretched and dangerous Druzil, was probably watching them even now. Cadderly had not forgotten the painful bite of the imp's magic, and even more so, of the imp's poisonous sting. That venom had dropped Pikel once, long ago, and while Cadderly had spells of healing to counter the poison, he suspected he would not be able to access them in here.

The night had fallen, and they were ill-prepared.

But Danica was in here! Cadderly could not forget that, not for an instant. He wanted to go after her - now! To search every room in this massive structure until he found her and could hold her once more. What had awful Rufo done to her? his fears screamed at him. Spurred by that inner alarm, the young priest almost ran back toward the kitchen, back toward the zombie host and the lesser vampire.

Cadderly heard a calming voice, Pertelope's voice, in his head, reminding him of who he was, of what responsibilities his position entailed.

Reminding him to trust in Deneir, and in Danica.

It was a harder thing for the young priest than even entering this unholy place had been, but Cadderly moved to Pikel and helped support unconscious Ivan, and the three made their way back out into the open air, back out into the night.

One Night Free

They scrambled down the library's long front walk, between the rows of tall trees, and Cadderly, despite his urgency, could not help but think of how often he had viewed these trees as a sign that he was home. Cadderly's world had changed so dramatically in the last few years, but none of the previous turmoil, not even the deaths of Avery and Pertelope or the revelation that evil Aballister was, in truth, his father, could have prepared the young man for this ultimate change.

Cadderly and Pikel had to carry Ivan, the dwarf's head lolling back and forth, his bushy yellow hair scratching the exposed areas of Cadderly's skin. The young priest could hardly believe how much weight was packed into Ivan's muscular frame. Stooped low as he was to keep Ivan fairly level between himself and Pikel, Cadderly quickly began to tire. "We need to find a hollow," he reasoned.

The green-bearded dwarf bobbed his head in agreement.

"Yes, do," came a reply from above. Cadderly and Pikel skidded to a stop and looked up in unison, the distraction costing them their hold on poor Ivan. The unconscious dwarf pitched forward to hit the ground face first.

Rufo squatted on a branch a dozen feet above the companions. With an animal-like snarl - and it seemed so very fitting coming from him! - he leaped out, stepping lightly on the path behind the two. They spun about, crouching low, to face the vampire.

"I am already fast on the mend," Rufo chided, and Cadderly could see that the monster spoke truthfully. The wound Cadderly's walking stick had opened on Rufo's cheek was already closed, and the scar from Pikel's water had turned from an angry red to white.

The howl of a wolf cut the night air.

"Do you hear them?" Rufo said casually, and Cadderly found the vampire's confidence more than a bit unnerving. They had hit Rufo with every weapon they could muster, and yet, here he was, facing them again and apparently unafraid.

Another howl echoed through the night air.

"They are my minions, the creatures of the night," the vampire gloated. "They howl because they know I am about."

"How?" Cadderly asked bluntly. "How are you about? What have you done, Kierkan Rufo?"

"I have found the truth!" Rufo retorted angrily.

"You have fallen into a lie," the young priest was quick to correct.

The vampire began to tremble; Rufo's eyes flared an angry red, and it seemed as if he would rush forth and throttle his nemesis.

"Uh-oh," muttered Pikel, expecting the charge and knowing that neither he nor Cadderly could stop it.

Rufo calmed suddenly, even smiled. "What of this might you understand?" he asked Cadderly. "You who have spent your days in worthless prayers to a god that keeps you small and insignificant. What of this might you understand? You who cannot dare to look beyond the limitations Deneir offers you."

"Do not speak his name," Cadderly warned.