A moment, as though the risen spirit hadn't heard, or wasn't certain it understood, and then the wailing ceased. It was all the answer Kaleb received, and all he required.

"You did not die alone," he told the skull. "Hundreds perished even as you did, burned by Maukra's fires, drowned in Mimgol's poisons, or crushed as the buildings fell. From here, your ghost made its way to the Halls of the Dead in Vantares's domain. You must have seen the others as well, and it is one of your fellow dead whom I seek."

"A name…" It was no true sound, a mere wraith of a voice for Kaleb's ears and Kaleb's mind alone. "His name…"

Kaleb spoke, and the spirit howled as though the worst agonies of Vantares's deepest hell had followed it even into the living realm. But the necromancer would not relent, and finally the skull spoke, told him where he must dig.

And dig he did, in another lot some streets away. Again his senses plumbed the earth, revealing to him the broken bones. Again he drew forth a skull, his tongue flickering out to taste of whom it once had been.

But this time, Kaleb drew no sigils in the mud. He had no use for the spirit that had gone below. From this one, he needed knowledge possessed while living, not sights seen beyond the veil of death.

For hours he sat, fingers and tongue flitting across the interior of the skull, seeking every last trace of lingering thought and dream, every remaining sliver of what had once been a living essence, desperately seeking, desperately hoping…

And only as the eastern sky began to lighten, dawn transforming each falling raindrop into a glittering jewel, did Kaleb hurl the skull to shatter against a nearby wall, screaming his frustration to the dying night.

Chapter Two

ALTHOUGH SITUATED ABOUT AS FAR from Mecepheum as Imphallion's borders allowed, Rahariem was one of the nation's more important centers of trade.