Vangerdahast, he strongly suspected, hadn't killed a single worm. Instead, the Royal Magician had altered their spell-bindings to make them obey him rather than the fell and vanished wizard who'd compelled Narantha to spread the little horrors. And, no doubt, he had commanded them not to gnaw away any more of the brains in which they dwelt.

In other words, Vangey had spent a little less than three tendays crafting a small army of nobles whose minds he could control whenever he desired-for the good of the realm, of course.

The few nobles he'd deemed the least useful-or perhaps judged any meddling with them would be suspected and sought after by wizards hired by their noble kin-he'd assigned to Lorbryn Deltalon for curing.

Deltalon knew he should be flattered. The Royal Magician absolutely trusted the loyalty of rather less than a handful of his Wizards of War-or anyone else. Laspeera, yes, and… well, perhaps no one else but Lorbryn Deltalon.

Yet therein lay the problem. For some time Deltalon had harbored growing misgivings about Vangerdahast's mental stability and loyalties.

The Royal Magician grew ever more glib and self-satisfied as bodies fell and rotted, years passed, and the realm endured.

A realm shaped more and more to Vangerdahast's liking. In the humble opinion of Lorbryn Deltalon-an opinion held only within the deep mind-shielding spell he'd found in a tomb all those years ago and ever since had kept secret from the Royal Magician and everyone else-Vangerdahast was increasingly likely to convince himself that only he was capable of ruling Cormyr for the good of all.

He might already have reached that conclusion. Wherefore Lorbryn Deltalon watched the royal family of Cormyr very carefully.

Sooner or later, if Vangerdahast was so deeply corrupted, he would work spells to make the Obarskyrs mere puppets, or have them eliminated-by "enemies of the realm" of course-so he could "reluctantly" take the throne.