"Who?"

"We must move near to a light before I may tell you."

The Games Master twisted his head on his bulging neck, and his amber eyes flashed as he glared first at the one, then at the other.

"If this is some sort of prank-" he began.

"It is not," said Quazer unflinchingly.

"Very well, then. Follow me." He sighed; and with a swirl of his orange and green cloak, he turned and headed toward a brightly illuminated tent.

Inside, he faced them once again. "Is this bright enough for you?"

Quazer looked about. "Yes," he said. "He will not overhear us."

"Who are you talking about?" asked the Games Master.

"Do you know of one called Jack, who always hears his name if it is spoken in shadows?"

"Jack of Shadows? The thief?-Yes, I've heard stories."

"That is why we wished to speak with you in a brightly lit place. He is here. Smage and I saw him only a few minutes ago. He was studying the Hellflame."

"Oh my!" The Games Master's eyes were wide and his mouth remained open after the exclamation. "He'll steal it!" he said.

Smage stopped touching his mustache long enough to nod several times. "... And we're here to try to win it," he blurted. "We can't if it is stolen."

"He must be stopped," said the Games Master. "What do you think I should do?"

"Your will is the law here," said Quazer.

"True... Perhaps I should confine him to some lock-up for the duration of the Games."

"In that case," said Quazer, "make certain that there are no shadows in the place where he is captured or in the place where he is to be confined. He is said to be exceedingly difficult to contain-especially in the presence of shadows."

"But there are shadows all over the place!'

"Yes. That is the main difficulty in keeping him prisoner."

"Then either brilliant lights or total darkness would seem to be the answer."