The single guard standing watch outside the Manor turned his head and looked at the Betrayer. His face, although apparently human and thus inclined to betray his emotions, was impassive. He should have been wary of her appearance, uneasy at her state of health, alarmed that she?d evaded the estate?s patrols. Perhaps he was quite familiar with things that seemed undead, or perhaps he was a mere construct, a simulacrum, incapable of concern for such things. He remained silent, observing the white-robed figure as she tapped lightly upon the doors.

For a moment, the guard?s pale blue eyes unfocused and glazed over with a film of black, and a questioning expression marked his features. As the guard?s eyes cleared, he smiled politely at Renna and returned his gaze to the distant lake. Incoherent shouting sounded from within, and finally, slowly, the carved dire-oak doors opened.

A rotund, red-faced woman stood in the entry, muttering about lazy children. Suffering the name of Louisianna, she had the scowl of the perpetually annoyed. Flour dusted her hands, arms, and torso and she smelled of baking bread. ?Well?? the woman demanded in a cross, tremulous voice. ?What you want?!? She tucked a wisp of steel gray hair back up into a bun, leaving a trail of flour on her face, and glared at Renna ? then took a hesitant step back as she caught a whiff of rot and got a good look at the white-robed figure with gray skin.

?Urk,? managed the household?s cook, who had managed to avoid ever actually seeing something undead despite her five years of service to a shadowmage and necromancer. As Renna stood there, Louisianna clapped her hands together anxiously, sending a puff of flour into the air, then took another step back and glanced nervously over her shoulder, looking as though she might faint. She was altogether relieved to see the silver-maned Witch of the Dark Lake finally emerging from the Manor?s library.

?There is a. . . a . . .? Flustered and unsure, Louisiana paused, trying to find the right words. She rolled her eyes, trying to silently convey her mistrust as she dropped her voice to a hissing whisper.?Milady Skye, there is a dead thing on your doorstep.?

?Such delicate sensibilities, Louisianna. You insult my guest,? remarked Alysia in a low contralto as she came to stand next to the cook. She motioned for the round, floury woman to return to the kitchen. ?This does not concern you. Shoo.?

A smoldering gaze studied the tired figure at the entry, noting the long sleeves of the white robe, the exhaustion held in scarlet eyes. ?Renna Bloodstone,? mused Alysia. ?Also known as Renna the Betrayer.? A smile touched the corners of her mouth, briefly enlivening pale, elfin features. ?I apologize for the discourtesy of my staff - some of them have lived very sheltered lives and manage to ignore much of what goes on in my home. You are welcome in this place, though.? She stepped back, motioning for the Betrayer to enter. ?What brings you here??

?I need to pick your brains... Do you know what the Nihil is?" asked Renna.

Alysia?s shoulders tensed, and for a moment she was frozen. Know that the boundaries of your Self has come to our domain of Malfeas. Know that we are the Nihil, the eternal will of the shadow. . . Jodiah Ayreg belongs - to - us. The tall, silver-maned priestess shuddered at the demands of that bitter memory and continued scowling into a dimly lit parlor which smelled of oak and incense. She slouched into a chair, motioned for the Betrayer to do the same.

?The Nihil.? muttered Alysia. Her mouth twisted into a brooding, unwilling smile. ?Let us say that I do not know as much as I should. The wrath of the Nihil is not a thing to be taken lightly.?

Elfin features impassive, she pushed to her feet and obtained from somewhere two flasks of ichor, offering one to Renna. ?I wonder why you ask.? That was a question phrased as a statement; she left the choice of responding to such a prying query up to her guest. ?I can think of a man you and I were both acquainted with who could provide a wealth of information on the topic ? if, of course, he could be found.?

?Acquaintance? Who??

?That would be one Lord Jodiah Ayreg,? Alysia remarked in a dry tone. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a hint of brooding in her crimson eyes. ?It was in the futile effort of seeking him that I faced the Nihil. But this is useless trivia, as I do not know where he might be found.? The last was said as if she was pained to admit it.

Perhaps, Alysia thought, Jodiah Ayreg did not wish to be found. Perhaps he had melted into some peaceful countryside, adopting an agrarian life style. Or perhaps he was again held captive by the Mistress of Torment for his betrayal. She did not care to admit her ignorance in this regard, particularly given the life-debt she still owed the man.

?I suppose you?ll have to make do with the little I do know, Renna.? Half-smiling, she took a deep breath and looked closely at the Betrayer in the dim light. Possibly, Alysia was judging how much to tell the white-robed woman. She chose to come to the point without banter. ?I found the Nihil when scrying. I was using as a focus an artifact that had belonged to Ayreg, trying to find him ? and instead found myself in Malfeas. ?

Alysia frowned and looked away, setting her empty flask of ichor. ?I was granted audience only briefly, under the auspices of Deed of Nerg?ziel. It is possible that I could summon the Nihil or at least call upon them again - but I will not act against them. What would you have me do??

Alysia didn?t speculate about the twisted flash of emotion that illuminated Renna?s features. Nor did she comment upon it. She only muttered doubtfully, ?If I find Ayreg, I will let him know who seeks him.?

The alabaster-pale priestess leaned against the edge of an oaken table as she considered Renna?s request. A delicate and dour smile curved the corners of her mouth. ?You should know that the Nihil and I have been at odds in the past, and they may not look upon me with favor. I have been unwilling to test their temper or tempt their wrath lately. However, one of the gods I now serve as priestess is . . .? She trailed off, frowning as she searched for the appropriate words to describe the Dark Ancient?s goal to visit discord and decay upon Rhilshen.

?Let us say that in the lands I have claimed as my own, one of the gods I now speak for is subject to edicts leveled by the Nihil,? Alysia explained tersely. ?And that may be enough.?

Her smoldering gaze hardened as she looked pointedly at the seemingly ill and frail form of the Betrayer. ?As for payment? Normally, I would demand the usual coin for this sort of work -- an open promise of support in the future, a soul or two, a bound familiar, a gem of unusual size, color and clarity. . . Yet if your time is short and your problems are great, I am inclined to be altruistic.?

Alsyia looked speculatively at Renna, judging the almost imperceptible hints of a struggle with a weakening body. There was no pity in her fiery gaze, but beneath that calculating look there might have been a hint of curiosity . . . and not compassion, but cold empathy. She smirked, then.

"You will make a mercenary of me, but as you will! For my efforts on your behalf, I will accept a handful of gemstones." To indicate the dimensions, she extended her hand, palm up, narrow fingertips curved to cup the air. "I will not quibble over size - one large or several tiny crystals, it makes no real difference. Natural rubies and blood-gems will suit my purposes best, although I will accept any precious stone conducive to a spell matrix."

Alysia had no idea of the woman's resources, but assumed that if Renna didn't have the price on hand, she would either obtain it without undue effort or negotiate.

She headed for the doorway, beckoning to a half-elven page who stood in the shadows outside the room. Alysia murmured something mostly inaudible to the willowy child, and the page sprinted off to do her bidding. Turning back to Renna, she commented rather peremptorily, ?You should follow me.?