“ Ywain!” Boghaz stared at him. “Are you crazy, Carse? This is no time to be toying with that vixen!”
Carse snarled. “She must be with us to bear witness in Sark that I am Rhiannon. Otherwise the whole scheme will fall. Now will you go?”
He had realized that Ywain was the keystone of his whole desperate gamble. His trump card was the fact that she had seen Rhiannon possess him.
“There is truth in what you say,” Boghaz admitted, then added dismally, “But I like it not. First a devil, then a hellcat with poison on her claws—this is surely a voyage for madmen!”
Ywain was imprisoned on the same upper level. Boghaz led the way swiftly and they met no one. Presently, around the bend where two corridors met, Carse saw a single torch burning by a barred door that had one small opening in its upper half. A sleepy guard drowsed there over his spear.
Boghaz drew a long breath. “Ywain can convince the Sarks,” he whispered, “but can you convince her?”
“I must,” Carse answered grimly.
“Well then—I wish us luck!”
According to the plan they had made on the way Boghaz sauntered ahead to talk to the guard, who was glad to have news of what was going on. Then, in the middle of a sentence, Boghaz allowed his voice to trail off. Open-mouthed, he stared over the guard’s left shoulder.
The startled man swung around.