blood and dancing in his feet. The tiny gold bells gave a chime as those music-laden feet began already their nervous tracings on the inlaid-wood floor. He was beyond her, for the moment and she sullenly withdrew her attack, and put the furry head of her bear-costume in place with a last wicked smile. She would watch for a time tonight when she could expose her husband to the rest of the group. That would fix him! The red-painted mouth of the bear became an extension of her own.

The outer walls of the castle were lighted by flickering torches. The guests were greeted by the host in the courtyard and directed into the massive donjon, rising above them. Hugh was dressed in a long black gown and tall pointed hat, decorated with weird signs, upside-down crescents, and tongues of lightening that seemed to flash and glow in the wavering yellow light, and he handed each a burlap sack as they entered: "Your talisman for this evening."

Inside, the guests were milling about, sampling punch, and examin- ing their 'talismans'. "Ha!" said Ursala, pulling a long, very fine silver chain from the corner of her bag. "You too!" said a tall, saturnine gentleman in evening clothes, dangling a similar, slightly heavier strand of gleaming metal aloft. Clutching the bottom of his own sack, Robert felt the handle of what appeared to be a paddle. On closer examination, he found it to be a mirror — without its glass. As each exclaimed and then puzzled over the weird tokens, Hugh came into the hall, slamming the great oaken door behind him with a thundering crash that resounded through the stone passages and echoed among the ancient timbers of the rafters above. "Welcome, welcome," he thundered with a flourish of his right hand that seemed to dash slivers of light into the farthest corners. His features were darkly recessed behind a falsework of long flowing white hair and whiskers, and the guests felt rather than saw the smile.

"Everybody get some punch and then we'll go on to the fun and games," cried the Archimage. And the guests milled about some more in the uncertain light. At length, everyone had cup in hand, and the host directed the toast: "To reality and everyone drank, deeply quaffing the warmish, sweet-and-sour mead.

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"And now to the naming of the guests," ordered the host, standing in the center of a white ring in the center of the room. Without further direction, everyone began walking in a circle outside the white line. "All right everybody! First we have the Count!" And the dark gentle-

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