CORRESPONDENCE of THIEVES

 

An email roleplay, based on the story and universe of Thief, developed by Looking Glass Studios

Written, in correspondence, by:  Steve Tremblay, Beate Gerwin, James Sterrett, Alexandria Thomson, and Daniel Todd

 

"We chose our profession in defiance of the greed of the monarchy. We will not live for the sake of taxes to fatten the nobles' pockets. We choose to live the only life available to those who would truly be free.  We are Thieves."

-- Creed of the Downwinders, also adopted by Master Nightfall


Foreword, by an anonymous Keeper:

 

Hail Reader, and thank for you choosing to read this tome. I am a Keeper. My name is not important, for the words herein were not written by me, nor even witnessed by me. I have simply taken it upon myself to provide a little background information on the subjects that follow, to prevent confusion by those who are not so familiar with this realm’s history.

 

In an age long before this one, the Trickster, an entity of chaos, attempted to fully manifest himself. He was thwarted, however, by a being who would come to be known as the Master Builder. The Master Builder was deemed a god by those who followed him, and the Hammerite Order came into existence. Half a year ago, the Trickster attempted a return to our realm, to bring about an age of perpetual night. He called this plan, "The Dark Project." In order to bring his plan to fruition, he tricked a master thief, who was once one of our own, into performing a simple yet dangerous task, in his stead. The thief's name was Garrett. Garrett was given the task of retrieving the Eye, a magnificent gemstone which the Trickster could use as a focus for his magics. Aided by his counterpart, the being who called herself Viktoria, the Trickster betrayed Garrett, stealing Garrett’s eye to activate the gemstone’s magical powers. Seeking vengeance, and to save the world, Garrett used a fake version of the Eye which the Hammerites had rigged, swapping it with the real one during the final ritual of the Trickster’s ceremony. The backfire of the spell destroyed the Trickster. An exceptionally eccentric member of the Hammerite Order rewarded Garrett with a mechanical eye, and the Order pardoned all crimes. After a brief meeting with one of us, Garrett then went into hiding, and has not been heard from since.

 

That is another tale, worth hearing in its entirety. It is history. I bring you now a different tale, one that may or may not be true, but is certainly every bit as worthwhile to hear.

 

About a month passed after the events above had come to a close, when a stranger arrived at the docks of The City. He came alone, which was odd, considering the size and nature of the vessel on which he had journeyed. It is in the commoner’s best interest to mind his or her own business, so no one asked this mysterious nobleman any questions. Keepers, however, are not daunted by such considerations. He was an offworlder, and his name was Daneel Todulem. Daneel had once been a mage of great power, a fact made clear to us when he used the last remaining scraps of his power to cause a magnificent mansion to spring forth from the solid stone of the sharp foothills which lay before the great mountains.

 

We were not the only ones who witnessed this act. It had in fact been observed by a Hammerite scouting party. As quickly as it was seen it was reported to superiors. In the ensuing mix of shock and excitement, there could be heard cries of “Nightfall!” It was as much a description of the darkness from the tower’s sudden skyward mass as it was of the man who caused it.  “It  was as if night was falling upward!”  According to Hammerite prophecy, the Master Builder would send a savior who would come at the time of great peril, and perform great miracles. Upon seeing this act of power, the dying Hammerite high priest twisted the ancient texts to suit the situation and decided that this wealthy nobleman from a faraway land must be the savior, and thus emissary to the Master Builder.  It was his last display of sovereignty. Daneel, being no fool, happily accepted this position, as well as all the power that came with it.

 

As time passed, Daneel began to acquire an understanding for the new home in which he lived. He came to the conclusion that the most noble group inhabiting The City was not the fanatical Hammerite Order, not the reclusive elementalist Brotherhood of the Hand, nor the poor and dirty working class, and especially not the fat and wealthy aristocrats, but those who dwelt in darkness: the thieves. Though many were common scum that preyed on the weak, others proved to be strong souls who did not wish to live by the rules set by the oppressive world around them, but by their own thievish sense of honor.

 

Daneel, inspired by his new sense of direction in life, covertly began work as an employer and aid to these thieves. As his organization grew, he constructed a base of operations. This base was, on the surface, a museum entitled "The Circle of Stone and Shadow." This seemed one wealthy man’s collection of artifacts and knowledge, but in truth was the heart of his criminal organization. In time, Daneel was given the name of Master Nightfall by those whom he served, later adopting it as his surname.

 

Master Nightfall would become known in the underground as one of the most powerful crime lords, occasionally referred to as "The Patron Saint of Thieves", all the while maintaining his guise as a simple nobleman, and emissary to the Master Builder.

 

The story begins nearly two months after Garrett went into hiding, and four months before the peak of Master Nightfall's prosperity.

 


Chapter 1 - The Correspondence

 

- Jyre: The Urchin -    Day 1:  11pm

 

I stared up at the tower, which was nestled halfway up the steep hillside. It was a hauntingly eerie image in the fading light. I could have gone up the stairs, I suppose, but then I would have had to face ridicule from the servants and guards, if there were any. So I chose, instead, to take the back route. I had traversed this way once before but that had been in daylight. The area I had chosen to climb, sheltered by plant growth from any view from the tower, looked a lot steeper in the dark. The initial stages were easy enough. The ground was rocky with tufts of grass sprouting here and there. They gave enough purchase for me with which to haul myself up. I was past the halfway point when I came across the real problem. An overhang, like a miniature cliff, towered at least twelve feet above my head. The rock-face in front of me looked like a bowl standing on edge. The rock itself was as smooth as glass. I would have turned back, had I not seen this place before. Skirting my way around the lip of rock that made the bottom edge of the bowl, I eventually came to the thin crack that ran from the bowl's base to its top. With a little effort, I managed to squeeze into the fissure. It widened slightly just above my head and I was able to grab on to the rough rock and pull myself up, bracing my feet against the rock to stop myself falling. Had I been any bigger I would not have been able to do this; there are times when being a titch has its advantages. By repeating the process of reaching, bracing and pulling until my arms felt as though they were about to fall off, I eventually managed to drag myself out of the bowl and onto the overhang above. Once there I just fell on my back and stared up at the darkening sky, panting.

 

The tower itself was perched on a small shelf halfway up the tall rocky hill. The structure could be described as having two parts: the mansion-like base and the tall tower..

 

The wide mansion-like base sprawled out across the shelf in an irregular shape consisting of rectangular and cylindrical units with arched roofs, some connected by short hallways. It filled the shelf easily, leaving little room to walk, or even stand. Many of the units and halls protruded out of the rock-face, which lent me to conclude that there was much of this house hidden inside the hill. From what I could see by the light of the lampposts at the front of the house, the entire structure was made from black shiny stone, ornately decorated with all sorts of relief carvings. Stained glass windows circled the structures, each one different from the one that came before. The entire mansion gave a clear sense of carefully calculated randomness. Had I approached from the stone path and stairway it would have been impossible to see any of this, for it was blocked by the dense foliage and the fences that channeled any visitors to the front door whilst preventing any exploration of the property.

 

The tower part itself was too distant to be clearly made out by the light of the lampposts lining the front walk. The night sky was overcast, so not even starlight could illuminate its features. It was tall; very tall. It was also a good way into the manor’s structure, standing free of the vertical rock-face that made up the rest of the hill which towered several hundred feet above the tower’s tip. Searching for the most efficient way up, I circled around the structure in front of me, glancing at the relief carvings as I went past. They seemed to be forming a narrative. This particular one showed a man doing battle with an iron golem, and upon defeating the beast, receiving a large shield. I saw my path up as soon as I went around the bend; there was a narrow passage between two of the structures, which formed a path straight to the base of the tower itself.

 

I was level with the tower's base now and a short dash brought me to its stone clad walls. I walked around to its sides, careful to keep in the shadows and avoiding the windows whilst I searched for my goal. Spotting the dark window near the top of the tower was not easy, especially with the moon's light blocked out by the clouds. Finding the ugly gargoyle that was perched on the wall above it was much easier. It overhung the wall slightly and a wooden platform had been constructed around its base to support its weight. I pulled two pieces of wood out from under my baggy top and placed one of them, a rope arrow, on the floor. I held the other between the palms of my hands and whispered a short chant. The wood in my hands shook and grew until it stood as tall as my shoulder. I couldn't hold back a smile at the sight of that bow. It had been a gift from a young mage named Tanya, whom I had met on my travels but a year ago. I hooked the arrow in place, raised my bow and took aim. When I released the string the arrow rose with a whistle which was followed by a resounding thud a few seconds later. The rope uncoiled, its end hanging level with my face. I returned the bow to its original size, slipped it back under my top and began to climb.

 

I grabbed for the windowsill with my left hand and pulled myself forward. At the same time I released the rope I had used and then pulled myself through. It was dark inside and I could just make out enough to know I was in the right place. The bedroom was quite massive, and thankfully dark enough to keep me from being too distracted by the odd shapes all around me.  I just focused on the shapes I did recognize, the bed, wardrobe, and chest of drawers.  There was, however, no sign that the one I had come to see was there. I tucked myself beside the wardrobe and waited.

 

My hands were sweaty with nervousness, and I could feel them shaking. A glance at the outside told me it was getting very late. Just as I was beginning to wonder if he would ever come, the door swung open and he walked in. By the light in the hall I could just make out the silhouette of a man in a hoodless cloak. My mind went blank. Everything I had prepared was forgotten. He was preparing himself for bed by the time I realized why I was here. My presence suddenly seemed highly inappropriate. I pulled the letter from my pocket and stepped into the light. "This... this is for you," I blurted out, then hurriedly jumped back out the window and scrambled down the rope before he had a chance to reply.

 

 

- Nightfall: The Return Home -          Day 2:  12am

 

The midnight hour approached as I slowly climbed the spiral staircase to my chambers, near the peak of the tower. I had been unable to get anything constructive accomplished in the halls of The Circle that day, in spite of the wealth of new content, which made me slightly frustrated. "Never enough time in the day," I muttered to myself under my breath. I reached the top of the stair and passed through the grand double doors leading to my chamber. Upon entering the room, I immediately felt a presence nearby. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a figure huddled by the wardrobe.  I chose to discreetly observe what my guest was up to, without letting it know that I was aware of its presence. *

 

The minutes passed as I emptied my pockets onto my desk, and placed my formal cloak on the hook by the door. Just as I began a few random meaningless acts which could give one the impression of getting ready for bed, a small silhouette, which I vaguely recognized to be that of the young thief Jyre, sprang from its hiding place.  She shoved a letter into my hands, muttered something about it being for me, and dove out the window. She is an interesting girl, to say the least. 

 

For the past month Jyre had been one of my more faithful contributors.  She regularly showed up at my doorstep or the office at The Circle with one or more new treasures she had salvaged, usually paintings or obscure rarities, in return for things like supplies, food, or money.  She was a very secretive and timid person, and our words exchanged were seldom more then were absolutely necessary, but I appreciated her all the same.

 

Rebuttoning my overshirt, I turned on the lamp at my desk and opened the letter to read.

 

Master Nightfall,

Good, you have been. Understanding. I feel... I must tell of myself to you. Me words, please forgive, are not good. Me learning of letters came late to me. But I will try. You take my goods. Pass them on. Fair of me it is to reveal to you your source.

Orphan I be. Me dad I never knew. Me mum... Dead she is. Many years dead. Street rat am I. Thief, steal, rob. Those were my deeds. For food in me belly and clothes on me back. Understand, please. I had to survive! Twelve I did be when I were caught. A young man he were who found me. Ranson. That were his name. A guard he were. For the Lady. Ranson did see me starved. Filthy. Pity was his kindness. Took me home. Fed me. By the fire I sat all night. Such warmth I had not known before that time. Handsome, he was. Black of hair and green of eye. Loved him would any lass, sure of it am I.

Innocent I be'd. He... took advantage of me. Drowsing by the fire were I when he... touched me! "Quiet," says he. "Do as I say, or kill you I wills. You think they will miss one of your kind." Please, say you understand. I was lonely. He... The memory pains. Please.

Morning bright did wake us and to him his feet did leap. "Come," he commanded. To the lady did we go. And to her did he make plea for my service. I was a guard that very day. Do not judge me by this! I serve or I die. He gave me no choice!

I train, work hard. Learns much. Letters was I taught, and stealth. Watching. Protecting. Did I enjoy? Yes. Guard I was and guard I was happy to stay. Food I did have and much health. And Ranson did I have to fill me where I were lonely. Happy content. That was me.

But a mistake I did make. To patrol the house was my duty and I did see many a time that things were no good. To my captain Els I did go. And explain I did. But never, never, never did he listen! Angry I grew! Frustrated! "Tell the lady," be all he ever did say. To tell her I tried but always were she busy. Unimportant, I was. And so ignored. When to him I went to tell of bad lights, he did shrug and say "tell the lady." Hit him I did. Hard. We fought much. Everyone saw. She saw!

Arrested. Both of us. Captain Els was whipped. I... Put in a cage and left to rot. Hunger. Fever. Fear of death. No other memories have I. The rescue I do not remember. Going on the ship... It was captain Els who did freedom give me. His life was risked for mine. Obliged was the word he used when I asked why.

Time passed. Strength I gained. Guard I was again, for a short time. Then return did we to my homeland. It is revenge we seek. The captain and me. The lady she... She is evil! It is from her I steal my goods and to you they are passed. Though thief I be, I am not a bad person. Wish only to stop the lady do I.

This is me. This is who I be. Now you know the truth.

Your servant,

Jyre.

 

I paused for a moment, considering, and then quickly penned a brief letter in reply to her. I set it into the "out" chute by the desk. A servant would find it a the bottom of the chute in the morning and have it delivered promptly to her by my agents. Then, finally, I headed to bed.

 

 

- Jyre: On the Streets -          Day 2:  10am

 

I was honestly enjoying myself as I trailed behind that fat merchant, having already picked three of his pockets, and found tasty trinkets in each. The marketplace was busy enough that day for me to stalk him quite closely without him ever noticing. Besides, he looked to be the type who never looked a peasant in the eye unless he wanted to buy something, so even if he did see me twice, he wouldn’t have acknowledged it. He just bounced along, the folds of flesh beneath his layered garments jiggling with every footstep, which made it all the more easy to grab something without him ever giving it a second thought.

 

I was just reaching out for more when a small boy dressed in rags ran right into me. I had scarcely got a word out in protest when he whispered, "Master Nightfall sends his regards!" winked, and vanished into the crowd. I didn’t even get a good look at the lad, though he appeared to be a boy of no more than six or seven years. Quickly looking back up, I was relieved to see the fat man still in view, flirting with a comely peddler woman. Judging by the expression on her face, he was getting nowhere. My next instinct was to check my pockets. I kicked at the dirt of the path as I discovered that the fruits of a morning's work had been replaced by a neatly folded note. Cursing under my breath, I pulled it out and scanned it quickly. Then my face lit up.

 

Jyre,

Hello again, always a pleasure to make the correspondence. Seeing as you are one of the patrons and contributors to The Circle, in the future I do suggest you visit me via the front door. 

Now, allow me to congratulate you. I know that this seems an odd thing to say, but it is what came to mind as what I should first do. If your tale is true, and I have no doubt that it is, then you have survived much suffering and hardship, and grown strong as a result. For this, I congratulate you. Also, to a lesser degree, I’d like to welcome you to the realm of the written word.  I see you are quite new at this, and you managed to put forth a valiant effort. I know of many poor feeble minds who, in spite of proper schooling and a wide knowledge base in the field of language, cannot seem to tell a story half as decent as you have done. At any rate, that is enough chatter from me.

So you and the captain wish to reap revenge upon this cruel lady… did I gather that correctly? I am curious to hear of your plans.

Sincerely,

- Nightfall, Master of the Circle of Stone and Shadow

P.S. If the boy steals anything, steal it back from him.

 

Surging with excitement, I quickly dashed to a courier post, making a small detour to relieve the merchant of his gold pocket watch. Arriving, I rang the bell to summon a message carrier, and quickly pulled out a  narrow stick of coal to write a letter in reply, using the back of Nightfall's letter to write on.  A tall gaunt fellow in his early twenties arrived shortly, and stood there, staring at me as I scratched out the letter. "You need me to carry letter, lady?" the man said, through a mouth with as many teeth as I could count on one hand.

 

"Yes," I said plainly. "And if you make speed there'll be a gold piece waiting for your return." Grinning from ear to ear, a sight I really wish I hadn’t seen, he nodded vigorously and stretched out his hand to take it. "As soon as I'm done," I said, sensing his anxious nature. I reread the letter and wondered if there was anything I had forgotten. Hearing the courier's impatient shuffle of feet, I wrapped the letter in some cloth and handed it to him, along with a silver piece. "Now go, quickly," I told him. The man nodded once and ran off.

 

 

- Nightfall: A Letter from Jyre -         Day 2:  12pm

 

I try to take at least one day a week off from my usual work to just relax and waste time.  That was today.  My reading was interrupted by Jossimer, my head butler. He approached slowly, knocking on the doorframe as he entered. "Sir," he said, with his thick nasal aristocratic accent, "a rather disgusting man rudely dropped off this letter at the front gate. He claimed that it was urgent. Shall it be disposed of, sir?" I looked up from the book I was reading, Memoirs of Sir Cabirus, and gave him an expression which usually meant, ‘this had better be good.’ Jossimer approached in his narrow stiff walk, the light from my lamp catching in his bifocals to make him look like some sort of mechanical creation. He held up the letter between his thumb and forefinger, as if he did not wish to touch it for fear of catching some disease. I reached out to him, the universal signal for ‘give it to me’. He did so, and then stood there, absentmindedly dusting off his black formal coat. Strange how the room was emptier when he was in it. I set my book aside, marking my place with Lord Bafford’s favorite bookmark, and opened the letter.

 

I found that is was actually the letter I had send to Jyre last night, tightly folded, with the addition of smudged charcoal writing on the back.

 

Master Nightfall,

Your praise, it lifts my heart. My thanks I do give you. Of my revenge you would hear? Then tell will I, best I can.

The Lady, powerful in our city is she. Much monies and rule does she have. Many man of the city are hers to command. Feared she be. Despised! Listen in the shadows. Hear their moans. Listen in the streets. Hear their praise. Such is her hold on us! But there is weakness. Yes. And find it will we. Exploit it will we.

Revenge. That was my word. But deeper than that it goes, I think. My people suffering I see now I am home. So freedom now is the need. That will my revenge be.

A few short weeks ago we did thief from the Lady, the captain and I. Into a house of her we snuck. Through her things did we look. The captain, he fears she is connected with the dark ones. That is what he says. And so does her evil rise. Proof it were we sought of this. And through every room and garden did we search it for. My ears did echo the sounds of my blood.

Bmmbmm, bmmbmm. My heart did my excite pound and my fingers did my fear sweat. The captain, he be brave. Calm did he keep me. And safe. Always safe. He knew every patrol, every post. And round each one did he guide us. Once, I fear we was seen but pursuit followed us not that night. Paintings I did find, which now you do posses. Some gold. Some jewels. Not to alert her, most of this did we leave. And letters, many letters. But none, the captain did me tell, that would serve as proof. But one thing did itself appear. A map of many places unknown where her things she did keep. Hovels, sewers, caves and such.

Searched them one by one we have but nothing did we find. To the captain, I say. "What good proof. Listen to us they will not!"

"We find her wrongs, we find her weakness. And that we exploit! Riches she loves, we take them. Contacts she has, we shatter them! Rumors we spread. Foul and dark! And bit by bit she is broken and eventually will fall! To get to her we must first shatter her foundations. And to do that we need knowledge! Patience, Jyre. You must have patience!"

To seek revenge in this way we do. Her downfall will we bring about. And then she the beggar will be. Hers will starvation be! The picture is sweet to me. Peace in my heart it grants me.

But misjudge me not. I seek not her death. Such is not my way.

Your faithful servant, Jyre

p.s. A large lodge has she. In the woods. Far from the city wall. We go there tomorrow. And seek us our proof.

 

"Will that be all, sir?" Jossimer asked quietly. I swept my hand towards him, the universal signal for 'go away', and he did so. Folding up the letter and placing it in the inside pocket of my cloak, I went to speak to James.

 

James resides deep within the downtown area, Warden Clide's area, between the business district and the slums. The building in which he lives is on the edge of the slums, a once prosperous part of The City, which has fallen on very hard times. He owns a flat on the top floor of a condominium, which was originally built by the Hammers to be sort of a monastery for acolytes. But then they built that new place over by their new main cathedral, in the central town square, so it was given to the man they deemed most worthy. Well it seems even a high-ranking Hammerite isn’t always the best judge of character, and this individual sold it to the highest bidder, who happened to be the third wealthiest landlord in town. How James managed to actually buy the top floor is a mystery to most, except of course for James, the man who sold it, and the guy who paid for it – me.

 

It was a short walk for someone who knew the way, but I still wasn't in much of a hurry.  I had only been living in The City for a couple months, but already I had quite a good handle on most of the districts.  As I walked I received, as always, an assortment of glances from the passers-by, usually in the form of a discreet nod of greeting from members of the respectable underworld.  Most commoners and noblemen, however, took care not to give the dark, foreboding figure of Master Nightfall a second glance, or even a first. 

 

I arrived at the building just as late afternoon was creeping up on me. The first thing that came to mind is the first thing that always comes to mind when I look at the place. What a ghastly piece of rock. The building was built by the Hammers, and thus looked like a fortress. However, unlike the perfectly clean and polished Hammerite fortresses, this place was a towering symbol of rot and deterioration. I always wondered why James refused my offers of a fine estate in the uptown area. He claimed that he needed to be close to his agents. I could have easily chosen to argue the matter, but I humored him, and so this is where he lives. I arrived at James’s front door shortly after making my way up a deteriorated set of stairs, which wasn’t without several smelly bodies sleeping on it. I recognized that the door had been locked from the outside, so I knew he was out. Following standard procedure, I passed my hand over the deadbolts, and they magically opened for me. A nice little gadget, courtesy of an elementalist mage, who most likely really misses it. Stepping inside was like stepping into another world. Gone were the cracked stucco walls of the condo, the rotting wooden floor, and the stone ceiling. Actually, they weren’t gone. You just couldn’t see them.

 

James and his wife, Corinne, do not appreciate others saying their home is messy. They contend that they know where everything is: "Underlying Order in Superficial Chaos". And indeed the first impression of any visitor must necessarily be of chaos. Books, scrolls, and half-finished dissertations cover the tables; and they cover much of the floor as well. Massive filing cabinets overflow with papers and books are stacked two ranks deep on the wall-to-wall bookshelves. They live a simple life overall, happy to consume peasant fare day in and day out. But they spare few expenses in the pursuit of their mutual passion; knowledge. Which, of course, is why I hired him to run the Intelligence Section.

 

Stepping over some new volumes on an eclectic assortment of topics, apparently received shortly before their departure - they had not yet disposed of the packaging, though one of the books, Principia Mathematica, had clearly been skimmed - I found, sitting in the middle of a clear spot, a letter addressed to me. Most would find it odd that someone would write someone a letter, and think that the best way for that person to get it was to leave it on your coffee table, but I long ago learned that James was no ordinary chap. He was almost always at least two steps ahead of the game, which made him a damn good spy. I soon discovered that James and Corinne were indulging one of their subjects of particular fascination, military history, during a short holiday. The letter was written in James' typically ugly, blocky, but very easy-to-read print (one of his eccentricities: he only uses script for languages other than his native tongue).

 

 

D:

 

An old friend has come visiting. We are examining battle sites, traveling in the South for this week and the next. For the first week our location is predictable and I can be reached via Drop Box 74f. I regret to say that the second week will be less predictable and communications will probably be temporarily interrupted, but I shall post my movements as they occur so you can reach me in the event of emergency.

J - 09.06 23.3

 

 

The letter was dated today, meaning that he left this morning, which actually was not much of a problem. I was slightly disturbed by the fact that I had to reach James through a drop box. I prefer a valuable document not be left unattended. A drop-box is a location where the recipient certainly will not personally be present any time the courier is. James claims this increases security if part of the network is broken. The courier leaves the message in the pre-arranged location and then leaves a mark at a pre-arranged location to indicate that the box has mail. The courier leaves. The recipient checks the marker site every so often, and when the mark is spotted, will erase the mark and proceed to the drop site. After observation to ensure the site is not watched, nor the agent being followed, the agent gets the message. It often helps to place the drop box in places where it can be easily and unobtrusively grabbed even if in plain view. I pulled a chair up to his desk (I first had to find a chair, and then find a desk), and wrote him a short letter.

 

 

J:

 

You know of Jyre, of course. Attached to this letter are copies of several of her letters to me. Please read them. Did you read them? No? Go read them! Did you read them? Yes? Okay, good. Now, I’d like to get some additional information on Jyre. This is not to say that I do not trust her, I do, oddly enough, but I’d like to make sure there are no details that I don’t know about that should be useful. That should be simple enough for your spies and telepaths. The second task should be all the more enjoyable. I want information on this Lady. All of it. I want to know the layout of her castles, all of them, and all her bases too, especially this lodge of hers in the woods, which I hear she spends the most time at. I want to know her past, history, heritage, how many skeletons she has in the closet, the breed of her pet cat, what she serves her servants for breakfast, how many times she blinked last year, and most importantly, her NAME. You get the idea? I understand you are on vacation, so to speak (don’t deny it, I know you enjoy doing that stuff), but that doesn’t mean that you can’t get one of your many henchmen to pull this off for you. Oh yes, and as always, thank you greatly in advance.

 

- D - 05.26 23.3

 

 

"Now, where does he keep that…" I muttered to myself, trailing off into thought. Then I saw it, perched on top of a stack of economic reports, his automatic copy device. Another one of the Hammer’s wonderful inventions, this remarkable machine will copy any book or document quickly and accurately (and I use the terms lightly). I put Jyre’s letters into the "in" slot, and waited while it did its work. Whether the Hammer’s craftsmanship is overrated, or James had worked the thing halfway into its grave, I cannot say. What I did know is that I had to coax the machine to keep working several times, through some rather unscientific means. Judging by the tools that a Hammerite keeps on his person at all times, I’d venture to say that this was a feature, rather than a bug. The collection of Hammerite tools scattered about the flat reinforced this notion. About ten minutes later I had a set of perfect copies, and a rather sore fist. Packing my letter and the copies together, I left the room as close to what I found it as possible, and let the door automatically lock behind me. I went to the back of the building and waited. An old man emerged from the shadows, a man whom I recognized as one of James’ agents. He was an extremely thin old fellow, skinnier than Jossimer, which I found quite shocking, and slightly grotesque. He walked up to me slowly, limping badly, as if his left leg was nothing more than carrion. I admit, I was a little more then slightly skeptical that this man could be any sort of courier. As soon as he was within striking distance of my walking stick, he spoke.

 

"Ohh, heelew Massteer Nitfell." He spat his words out as if he was hacking up phlegm, because he was.

 

I didn’t waste time with pleasantries or small talk. "Take this to drop box 74f," I ordered him. He reached out and plucked the envelope from my hand, like he was picking an orange.

 

"Aye ssser!" he spat, and then suddenly bolted off down the ally as if he was no more than eighteen.

 

My eyebrow raised almost involuntarily. "Hmmm…" I thought to myself. "James employs strange ones." In intelligence, one needs a cold mind and a warm heart, James always claimed. And he noted that with a bit of careful vetting, a small investment of basic human decency towards society's unloved outcasts - often as little as a regular cup of tea and a sympathetic ear - can reap a great return in dedication and loyalty. Shrugging, I made an about-face, and walked back to the main avenue. It was now evening, and soon it would be nightfall. Rather than going home, I decided to deviate a bit.

 


Chapter 2 - Rouges

 

- Nightfall: A Stroll Through Town Square -  Day 2:  6pm

 

Town square is an odd name for an area with an irregular octagonal shape, unless you decide that square means center. But then you’d still be wrong, seeing as the town square was located well off the center of the city’s layout. Then again, simply calling it TOWN square was erroneous as well, as this city was far too massive to be considered a town. Metropolis would be more accurate. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your point of view, the term ‘metropolitan off-center octagon’ never stuck.  Having decided that, I idly walked though the marketplaces and shop-stalls of the town square. I quietly observed the people, taking note of the details. The city was quite busy today. People of all sorts were walking about in a rush, doing business, traveling, loitering, or keeping shop. I took a rare and precious moment to just relax and lose myself in the scenery, going with the flow. Though the vast majority of this city is rather bleak and dreary, this area was quite nice. This is of course attributed to the fact that the Hammerites’ Cathedral absolutely loomed over the place. Their influence was very strong here. A guard on every corner, and a decree on every lamppost.

 

The Hammers and the Pagans do have one thing in common, though they’d both kill me if I said it, but they both seem to enjoy landscaping. They have utterly different philosophies about if, of course. The Pagans, or rather, what’s left of them, see it as the chaos and beauty of nature, and the Hammers see it as man’s dominance and control over nature. Either way, the park in the center of town was a very nice place to walk around and do business, and that is just where it seemed I was headed.

 

I was strolling over the brick path, through gardens filled with perfectly manicured hedges, and a lawn so even it looked as if a machine had done it (which may be true, for the Hammers develop machines for everything. No doubt we’d soon see Hammers riding around on small mechanical beasts which roamed about eating grass and making a whole hell of a racket.)  My thoughts were interrupted when a parchment, aloft on a breeze, hit me square in the face.  It was carried by the wind – I had just turned my head, and smack, there it was. I don’t like being taken by surprise, even if it’s just by a bit of debris, so I was naturally quite annoyed. I was about to toss it in the nearby wastebasket (if a Hammerite saw me littering I’d have an incident on my hands) when I chanced to see my name on the top of the page.  I quickly smoothed it out, and read it. It was written in glyphs. Thankfully it was a variant which I knew well.

 

 

Master Nightfall,

 

I am only a old woman that lives in the northern woods. Yesterday, I heard that this boy Jyre needs information about that house of the Lady. Don't ask me how I heard of this rumor, I beg you. All I knew is that he and the Captain needed help, most urgently.

 

Once I was a thief, just like Jyre and the Captain. But nowadays the Order of the Hammer has grown in its power, and the City is not secure any more. And I myself am old now and weak... I feared the Order and so I fled into the woods, after they had broken my wrists. I have a small hut here, unknown by enemies, or friends.

 

I felt since a while already, that there is a great power around the house of the Lady, deep in the forest. And I heard rumors about strange things that happen there. Things that are too horrid to describe. I did not want that this boy and his Captain would go there, unwarned. Too many people have already been disappeared, captured and tortured by their enemies.

 

So, I decided that I could spy around the house, relying on my once great skills. I approached towards the house, I saw that there are guards, seemingly everywhere. And I saw strange, evil lights and noises in the windows of the deeper floors. Screaming, weeping, rattling of chains. It scared me.

 

The house itself has a huge outer wall, shaped like a pentragram. Every corner of the wall has a big tower on its top, with 2-3 guards inside. Also guards with arrows. The main gate is iron, and closed. Around the wall is a ditch, filled with foul water. I think there could be a hole, leading from the ditch into the inside. I saw and heard some indicating water movements in the western side of the house.

 

I hope that this small information could help Jyre and the Captain, when they decide indeed to break into that house.

 

I myself fear that the wood is not secure any more, and will leave now, heading towards a place where neither Hammers, nor the evil presence that I felt beneath that house, will find me.

 

Lytha

 

 

"Jyre is a girl," I said under my breath, correcting her with a slight grin. Whoever her source was, that person wasn’t too observant. I should have James warn his spies, I thought, hoping that it was not too late. I picked up my pace towards one of his pickup posts near the edge of the park. Most people would think it strange that a letter could be delivered to someone by the wind, but I had seen many things far stranger.

 

Arriving, I recognized one of James’ men immediately. It was Schinler. I sighed in disgust, but it would take too much time to find another post with a man at it. Schinler had a history - of shattered nerves. At a glance, he appeared to be no more than a lord’s servant who decided to stand around looking moronic by the edge of the park; and, in fact, that is exactly what he was. He once worked for Bafford, in the kitchen, a stockboy I believe. And let me tell you, getting whacked on the back of the skull by that ex-Keeper turned thief Garrett is enough to make any man fidgety. To make matters worse, he quit his job with Bafford and joined up with Ramirez, only to be assaulted again in the very same way by the very same person.  Schinler is not quite convinced that Garrett is trying to kill him.  That was two months ago - the poor man should have gotten over it by now. Sighing to myself, I walked up behind him casually and tapped his shoulder, an act which I knew I shouldn't have done, but did it anyway.   He turned his head quickly and jumped half a foot into the air, spilling the contents of a mug of brown liquid all over himself. "Ma-ma-mas-s-ster Nightfall!" He explained with half excitement, half terror in his voice. He then jerked to attention and saluted me.

 

"At ease, Schinler," I said dryly "before a Hammerite notices you and makes a scene. You’re lucky they don’t pound you for spilling your drink on their sidewalk."

 

He shuffled around nervously trying to kick dirt over the spilled brown liquid, and didn't have much luck considering that he was standing on clean stone pavement.  Realizing how stupid he looked, he quickly arranged himself into a pose of mock at-easiness. "He-he-hellllo sir, er, um, I mean, umm.."

 

"Schinler, you need to lay off the coffee, you understand me?"

 

He nodded sheepishly.

 

"And as much as I find it amusing, you don’t have to be terrified of me. Just because I’m your boss’ boss, doesn’t mean I breath fire and eat fair maidens for breakfast. In fact, if you continue this show of spinelessness, I shall recommend that James immediately expel you from the payroll, do you understand me?"

 

He took a deep breath and nodded.

 

"Good.”  I handed him the letter from Lytha.  “I need you to deliver this message to drop box 74f.  I want you to make a copy and send it to me."

 

"Drop box 47f?" he said in confusion, taking and pocketing it without looking at it, just as James had trained him.

 

"No, 74, not 47, 74f. Got that? 74F!!" I raised my voice, growing impatient.

 

He nearly had a heart attack. "Y-y-y-y-eeees SIR! 74 e-e-effff!!!"

 

"This needs to be in James’s hand as soon as possible, do you understand me? The lives of your fellows depend on it. Clear?"

 

"Perfectly, s-s-sir!!"

 

"Good, and while you are on your way, I want you to make a copy of this letter,” I re-iterated.  “I want the copy in my hands as soon as you have come back from your delivery."

 

He nodded.

 

"What? You’re not done yet? GO!" I commanded.

 

He nearly tripped over his feet as he dashed off; all the while I was wishing I had found another man to do the job.

 

It was getting late, and soon the Hammerite day-watch would retire to their barracks for the evening, and Hammerite night patrols and watches would begin. I spotted a Hammerite soldier standing at one corner by a street-post. I paused for a moment, as a sudden inspiration came to me. He looked as if he was carved from solid stone as he stood there, motionless, hammer gripped tightly in his hands, his eyes staring straight forward. Though he appeared inanimate, I knew his ears were sharply at work, listening for any sounds that seemed out of place. Even with the ruckus of the busy crowd which stirred about him, (keeping about 5 feet away, of course), I knew his ears were sharp enough to hear a dishonest footfall twenty yards away. Odd how they can train them like that. The training is good; very good, but unfortunately for them, not good enough.

 

"Greetings Mathews, Private 4th class." Few people have ever seen a Hammerite surprised before, and lived to tell about it. All the people on the streets who happened to glance in the right direction as I snuck up behind the guard and greeted him are counted among those lucky people. He quickly regained his bearings, and wiped away all traces of surprise or embarrassment.

 

"State thy need, citizen, or be off with you," he said, in that odd accent they all seem to have, as he looked down his nose at me, and tightened his grip on that solid iron hammer of his.

 

I lifted the brim of my hat slightly to allow him to see my face. The poor chap went slightly pale, as if a Hammerite could get any paler, and dropped to one knee, quivering. "Please pardon my ignorance and ineptitude, Master Nightfall, for did not recognize thee. I shall understand if thou wishes myself punished for such a display of blindness."

 

"A mistake may be mastered, but a lie lasteth forever on thy tongue. Rather than try to hide thy mistake, thou hast faced it, and in doing so, may now correct it. Next time thine ears shall be keener to my footsteps, and thine eyes keener to my features. Thou art forgiven, my son." I said, pulling off the Hammerite priest mimic with flying colors.

 

"I thank thee, master," he said, rising to his feet, and not at all groveling. "How may I be of service?"

 

"I wish an audience with the council, the High Priest included. It is of a matter of reasonably great importance," I told him, letting my accent slip slightly.

 

He nodded. "I shall, master. Is there any other way in which I canst serve?"

 

"No. If thou performs these tasks, then thou hast earned thy mettle for this day."

 

"I thanketh thee greatly, Master Nightfall. Dost thou wish that I perform this act now, or shalt I wait until my watch has come to a close?"

 

"Stay at thy post, my son, and may the Master Builder watch over thee, and guide thy hammer to righteousness." I admit, that last bit at the end was a bit of an ad-lib, but he took it as a great blessing anyway as he regained his steadfast stance.

 

Wanting closure to the day, I decided it was about time I get back to my tower and get some rest. Evening was now fully upon the city and a shady character like me needed to get off the streets before the heavy Hammerite patrols began. Undoubtedly they would attempt to arrest me, learn my true identity, and I would have to come up with another excuse to not turn them in and have them executed. As useful as the Hammers are when they think you’re a religious icon, they are such a bother. So I made haste, for night was the time for people like me to either get home, or get to the shadows and get to work. I chose the former.

 

 

- Ghost: A Day in the Life of the Dead -        Day 2:  8pm

 

I was standing before the entrance to a place called the Bonehoard. I pondered the wisdom of going down into a place like this again. Too many times it's been a run for my life from burricks or zombies or worse.  But this time, supposedly, it would be worth it. How many times have I heard that? Some times these jobs are just way too dangerous.  How many times was I going to use the word time?  I walked the fine line between bravery and sheer stupidity too often. So now I'm here, looking for what my fence called the Star of Alarus, and anything else not nailed down. I needed to make some money on this too.

 

Suddenly I was jogged back to reality.  Something was shuffling around behind a nearby crypt.  I quickly zipped into the hole that counts as a doorway to this place. "Hmm…" I muttered to myself.  How convenient it was for someone to leave this rope here. It couldn't possibly be a set-up now could it? If I get killed because this is a set-up, I'm going to haunt the guy who wants this star thing for all eternity.  I tested the rope.  It seemed solid enough even though it looked like it was older than I was. "Well, lets make this quick," I muttered to myself as I slid down the rope.  Surprisingly, I got down safely -- so far so good. There was only one way to go.  It looked well traveled.  Now I was really paranoid. There's nothing worse than finding living people in a crypt.  They can't be up to anything good.  Does that make me a hypocrite?  Yeah probably.  But who cares? I'm just here to loot a little.  No one should mind.

 

"Concentrate!" I always have to talk to keep myself focused. It was hardly a quality you look for in a thief.  We're supposed to be quiet. Crawling down the roughly cut tunnel, I end up on a wooden platform.  I found another rope.  "Weird."  I used my own this time.  I doubted I'd be that lucky twice. Thunk! "Okay, here we go." I climbed down the rope. I noticed the body parts scattered around the floor.  Boy, I hoped there weren't any zombies here. I checked my map, old as it was. The Alarus area shouldn't be too far in.

 

Nothing to loot here. Damn, I hated it when that happened!  I liked my loot in large quantities, and readily available.  Yes, I really liked loot plenty.  Loot -- I loved that word.  Why is it never easy to find loot?  "Ah ha!"  I saw some steps, not very visible in the corner, leading to a downward slope. "Yes!" I said triumphantly when I saw the stone carved with the Alarus name. Unfortunately, rubble was everywhere, blocking the passage. It looked as if there had been an earthquake here.  I almost decided this was a wasted trip; almost.  I noticed a small hole way up by the roof in a dark corner of the room. From the looks of it, I may have been too late.  The hole looked man-made, as if someone had recently gotten here before me. Some rocks were piled on a ledge under the hole, like a crude set of stairs.  Maybe that was just a convenient coincidence.  The rocks could have just fallen like that, and the hole was natural.  Damn, I'm amusing. That's insane.  Obviously I was too late.  How could someone not have gotten in there?  The path is so simple.  I decided to go ahead with this anyway.  Maybe they missed something?  I climbed a post on one side of the room.  From there, I jumped onto the large flat stone ledge dangling precariously from the roof.  Then I slid to the edge and jumped off those stacked rocks into the hole. It was too easy.  Something was obviously going to kill me at any moment. I laughed off the thought.

 

I followed my planned route.  The only thing I really had a problem with was making it through the fallen floor section.  As a result of my attempts, I can now add several scrapes and a brand new head wound to my list of credentials.  If only the people who thought I was so great could see me now!  "Hah! Dusty and bleeding, master thief I am!"  No-one heard my remark. At least no-one told me to shut up.  Finally, I made the necessary jumps without significant injury to myself.  I peered over the ledge into the debris filled pit.   "Okay Ghost, just whip those legs up over that ledge and try to land on your feet, and lets hope it's not a long drop."  Aided by the skills acquired through many escapes, I slid up into the next hole.  Hoping that I wasn't about to kill myself, I dropped.

 

I landed with a crash.  "Ow! Damn! Who put those stairs there?"  Falling down a flight of stairs, just when you were sure that you were about to make a death defying drop of magnificent heroism, tends to bruise your pride.  What I landed on took my mind away from the pain in my ass. "Nice!  A dead body!"  It looked like he had only been there a week at the most. "Ew, still fresh."  I hoped that this was the fellow I had been worried about.  I was not the first to get in here, but planned to be the first to get out. After quickly frisking my new buddy I found a few coins, his map to the place (which looks surprisingly similar to mine), and much to my delight and dismay; no star!  I lit my small lamp and then scurried down the hall.  I made ready to hide the light source at the first hint of company.

 

And, to my surprise, at the end of the hallway I found a wall.  No more hallway.  "Damn."  I spat at the bricks.  I then realized there must be a secret door somewhere near here.  A family as notorious as Alarus liked secret doors.  Secret doors are fun.  Funny, the entire family was dead, yet they choose to bury their valuables with them.  Go figure.  Angry at the greedy dead people, I felt around the walls looking for the secret panel.  Maybe I would stumble on the button.  That would be much easier.  Just like I knew I would, I found the door.  Now I needed to open it.  It was amazing how well rich, dead people can blend two pieces of stone to look like one.  After a little pushing and poking I discovered that I could not open the door with my hands.  There had to be a button here somewhere. There needed to be a way in, just in case 2nd-cousin Alarus died choking on his silver spoon.   I retraced several steps down the hall.  With the light from the cracks in the ceiling back in the large room, I could see a little better.  Luckily due to the quakes in the area over the years the stones shifted around a bit.  By luck alone, I happened to glimpse a bit of metal inside a crack between two steps.  This could either have been a trap, or a door knob.  I decided it was a trap.  Knowing nothing better to do, I shut my eyes and gave the cracked step a swift kick.  To my surprise, I was still alive.  No bottomless pits or falling rocks for this taffer. Sometimes I was amazed at how often I didn't die.  The secret door was now open. "Wow!  It gets better and better!"

 

It wasn't a big area.  At least the map said it wasn't a big area.  But then again, these maps are rarely accurate.  The first area I found seemed to be the major family tomb.  There were lots of uncles and cousins.  No women were buried here, which I found weird.  Must be some sort of male dominance thing in that family.  No wonder they died out.  Their wives killed them and remarried.  I grabbed a few trinkets which were sitting around waiting for me.  I found a gold cup here, and a ring there. There really wasn't much loot.  Maybe their women inherited it all after they killed off the cheap bastards.  I took it as a good sign that no one had looted the little things already,.  It meant that I was the only one who had ever got this far.  Now where oh where is grand-daddy Alarus?  After a tiring search of the area, I came to the conclusion that I was in need of a break.  A small snack and some water would pick me up. Maybe it would even clear my mind.  No, not likely.  I also needed to stop the bleeding caused by my earlier acrobatics.  I sat down on the floor and leaned my back against the resting place of Entar Alarus.  It didn't occur to me to be anything special until the sarcophagus slid back like it was on an oil slick, and I fell down another set of stairs.  Yes, I fell down another set of stairs.

 

"Son of a..!" I cursed loudly as I nursed a new bruise on my knee and bump on my head.  Maybe that’s what was wrong with me.  I had too many hits to the head.  Maybe I could get the Hammerites to make me a nice metal crash helmet for these jobs.  Just then I heard a moan. I decided that it was just a subconscious moan of pain from myself.  I didn't give it another thought.  That is, until I heard something move.  Injured, but not totally stupid, I closed the shutters on my lamp.  Then I waited to see what came into view.  I pulled a mine out of my pack just in case it was what I thought it was. If it really was zombie down there, this was my only defense.   Why couldn't it just be a guard I could stab?  Before I could answer my question, my host staggered into view.  Sure enough, it was a big ugly zombie. "Bye bye Mr Alarus zombie!"  I armed the mine and tossed it into a corner.  As usual for a zombie, they have great hearing and not much sense.  He dragged himself over to the corner where it landed.  I ducked out of view just as the sound of a satisfying explosion and subsequent splattering of body parts on stone rang through the air.  I hopped from my cover, careful to avoid slipping on the greasy blood, to look for the arms.  It was quite disgusting really, but you never know if these zombies are wearing rings until you check!

 

Now the only shuffling of feet were my own. I scanned the room.  It seemed there were only three coffins here.  Unfortunately, none of them had names on the plaques.  There were no dates or other types of identifying marks on any of them.  I decided I needed to open each one to see what was inside.  I took the crowbar from my pack.  First I wondered why I didn't use it to open the secret door.  Then I tried to pop the lid from the first coffin.  I didn't find anything inside, other then the remains of a person.  There was no loot!  Obviously this part of the tomb has been here for a really long time, since all that was left were bones.  Next I went to the one in the middle.  It was a little bigger than the others. It seemed almost dumb that I didn't open this one first.  The lid was heavier than anything I ever tried to open in my life. With a lot of luck, and no shortage of adrenaline flowing from excitement, it finally fell off.  I found another coffin inside. "Oh man. Hope that one just flips off, 'cos there is no way I'll be able to lift it out of there."  My luck had changed.  The second lid opened and slid off without much trouble at all. What did I find?  I found the mummy of a woman!  Maybe this is grandma Alarus?  There was one thing about this I didn't like -- there was nothing of value to be seen in the coffin. This meant one of two things -- either it was all a total lie, or it was under the bandages, or the good stuff was under the body."

 

Counting was never one of my strong points.  I decided that as much as I hate dealing with the dead, I hated wasting time.  I hated falling down stairs even more.  Not wanting those two falls to go to waste, I pulled out my dagger and sliced the wrappings from groin to throat. Nothing was visible from there. "Damn. Hmmm."  I did see a cut on the chest which I had not made.  I heard that some mummies had their organs removed, for some reason or another.  Maybe that was why the cut was there.  Or maybe it was a treasure chest.  I jammed my dagger into the body near the cut and heard a soft clank of metal on metal.  My first thought was that I just marred a great artifact with a nice stab wound. "Good thinkin' Ghost," I told myself as I pried open the chest cavity.  The act made me feel rather sick.  This was a woman, after all.  The sickness disappeared when I saw the glint of loot inside and forgot all about that.  I reached in to fetch my prize. It was heavy.  I pulled it out, covered with muck as it was, and held it up to my lamp.  It was the star, without a doubt.   The Alarus Star was a spectacular gold necklace trimmed with hundreds of gems, which all danced wildly in the lamp light. "Thanks Lady Alarus! This will pay the rent for quite a while." I chuckled as I grabbed my lamp and headed back out quickly before any curses could take effect on me.

 

 

- Ghost:  Of Bruises and Butlers -      Day 2:  10pm

 

I had done it. I had my prize. I had the loot.  I was sittin’ pretty. The trip to town was more or less uneventful. Thank the gods.  Any more damage or excitement for me just might have killed me.  I headed straight for Ragbert, my fence, to unload this tasty trinket and get my cash.  I didn't even stop at my place to clean up.  As I approached the building where Ragbert usually waits for me, I saw something most disturbing. He was being dragged out by a group of Hammerites, who were also carrying several large boxes! His unsold wares, I guessed. "Well, just throw me down a well! How am I going to unload this thing now?”

 

As I stood watching, someone grabbed my tunic and pulled me into an alley. For an instant I thought it was a Hammerite, so I spun around to strike back. Fortunately I stopped my swing dead when I saw her. Her face looked so delicate and innocent, I couldn’t possibly pound her into a bloody mess. That wouldn’t be right.

 

"You know what they are going to do to him in Cragscleft don’t you?" She whispered, sending chills through me. They were good chills.

 

"What? Why? Who are you?" I suddenly felt very dizzy, unable to focus on anything but the sound of her voice.

 

"They will kill him, and get your name, and then you’ll be next on their list. You cannot let this happen." Somehow she knew what was going on, even though I still had no idea. I hate it when people know more than I do about what I’m doing.

 

"What the hell are you talking about?" I whispered in the most hostile whisper I could muster, "I’m not going to get him out, it would be easier to kill them all right now, and I’m definitely not doing that!" She had to be nuts.  She may have been right, but she was still nuts.

 

She lifted her hand and touched my cheek saying, "He is very important in the days to come. You will need his help. Close your eyes and you will see."

 

That’s it! She is nuts! I closed my eyes anyway, keeping one open a crack to watch her, half expecting her to stick a knife in my gut. I sat there in silence for a minute, but no visions of the future hit me, though I did get the feeling that I wanted some nice split pea soup for dinner. All of a sudden she just vanished.

 

My perception of reality then snapped back into focus. The woman was nowhere to be seen. Well now I was confused, frustrated, without a fence, and still had the star in my pocket.  Although I would have loved to go track down that mysterious whisper-woman, or go bloody those Hammerite burrick-farts, the main thing on my mind was getting this artifact exchanged for some cash.  Then I could go get some soup.  Oh, wait a second; I hate split pea soup!

 

"Who else can take something like this and pay me fair value?" I shouted to myself under my breath -- if that’s even possible. Just then it clicked. What was his name? Nighthawk? Nightowl...Nightfall? That was him, Nightfall! I hoped the Hammers weren't having a record-breaking night for arresting people who collect rare and hard-to-get items. It was late already, but for something like this I was sure he wouldn't mind being woke up.  Also I sure as hell was not going to hand it to a servant to deliver! To Nightfall’s place I went!

 

I jogged all the way there to minimize the chances of running into trouble.  He lived a good distance away from the center of The City, so it was no easy run. Finally the place loomed into view.  When I saw it I let out a cuss so dirty I’m surprised that the grass beneath my feet didn’t wither and die. There were more stairs, and lots of them. It seemed as if this Nightfall guy was so cocky that he had to have his tower perched halfway up this huge-o hill, and have a nice fancy stairway up to the front door. I damned him and his architects to hell as I started up. Once up the stairway, down the walk, and onto the porch, I banged loudly on the door, hoping he didn't try to kill the dusty, bloody, sweating wheezing person waiting on his doorstep.

 

Just my luck, a servant answered. Or at least I think it was a servant. I know it couldn’t have been Nightfall. I’ve seen drawings of the jerk, and he’s not old, he’s not skinny, and he doesn’t wear a monkey suit or glasses. The stiff just looked me up and down for a few moments, as I stooped there, hands resting on my knees, still trying to catch my breath after that 7 mile stair climb that I enjoyed so much.

 

"May you be helped with something, sir?" he said coldly.

 

I liked how he never mentioned that it would be he doing the helping.  "Ummm, yeah, listen. I gotta speak to Nightfall, like, now," I told him when I had caught my breath enough to say the entire thing without gasping.

 

He replied quickly, undoubtedly having decided what to say before he even knew I was coming. "Master Nightfall is not in at the moment. A message could be taken for him."

 

"Dammit!" I shouted, and the poor sap seemed to jump a little. "Fine, already, ugh, damn, let me see. Okay, tell your MASTER Nightfall that Ghost, he may have heard of me, has a valuable artifact that he wants to sell to him. Got that?"

 

"That story is told daily. Perhaps if you left a note with a much more detailed description of what you have, and where you stole the artifact from, he would be much more likely to meet with you and discuss the purchasing of the object." The stiff was rattling this shit off like he had said it a hundred times, so I knew he must be right.

 

I just looked at him for several moments before I made up my mind. "Fine. You got a pad and pen? I’ll write him a note." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a quill and pad of paper. "Damn, you keep a stockpile in that coat of yours, doncha. What else have you got in that thing, Jeeves?"

 

"The name is Jossimer, sir, and no, there is nothing else in the coat. If your intent is to rob the coat then I should inform you that I am well versed in over a half dozen forms of martial arts and --"

 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, sorry Jeeves! I wouldn’t dream of mugging you, honest!" I smirked and sat down on the stone rail. He looked at me with a look that most men bleed for, but seeing as I really wanted Nightfall to buy this trinket, I decided against killing his doorman. Besides, I admire a man who can do a good bluff.  Even if that frail stick of a person did know over five dozen ways to fight, he definitely wasn’t any good at them. "Do ya mind if I sit here and write it?" I asked him, fully intending to sit here and write it regardless of what he said.

 

"Not at all. Please drop it into the slot when you are done." I almost wished he had refused. The creep then turned around and slammed the double doors behind him.

 

I invented a new name for him, not a very nice one, sat down, and wrote. Three and a half pages later I was pretty satisfied with my narrative, and hoped that Nightfall wasn't anal enough to have it sent back to me covered with red ink.

 

 

- Nightfall: A Letter From Ghost - Day 2: 11:45pm

 

By the time I got home, it was a quarter ‘till midnight. I stepped through the double doors to my tower and into the huge foyer, where I found Jossimer waiting for me.

 

"Pardon, Master, but there is a note for you. It seems that --"

 

I cut him off by grabbing the collection of papers out of his hand. I made a beeline down the vaulted hallway to my study, where I sat and unfolded the note. Hopefully it would be from Jyre, or maybe even Lytha. It unfolded to reveal handwriting which I did not recognize.

 

Hey, Nightfall. Your doorman says that if I want to sell you this trinket I gained possession of, I need to supply you with lots of good information about it. I don’t mind sharing the details, after all, these are the things legends are made of. Put yourself in my place and enjoy the ride!

 

My eyebrow was most definitely raised as I quickly read his account of the adventure, often being forced to re-read passages several times in order to figure out exactly what he was trying to convey. If I heard correctly, Garrett, the thief who killed the Trickster, was unable to find his way into the Alarus Chambers, and yet this Ghost was. Slowly, I pondered what use this skilled thief would be in the situation at hand.

 

And that’s it! So do you want this thing or not? I need to get it out of my hands fast before it burns me. I’m sure you know what I mean. The address where I want to meet with you to make the sale is written on the back of this paper. If you don’t come alone, I won’t be there.

 

- Ghost

 

I yawned and placed the letter in the to-do box. I went to bed, not giving it a second thought.

 


Chapter 3 - The Hammerites

 

- Nightfall: Emissary of the Builder - Day 3:  6:30am

 

I awoke to a sound I do not enjoy hearing.  I recognized it, as dreadfully familiar as any sound could be.  I would not have needed to go to the window to look, but I did anyway.  There, standing at the front gate to my domain, was a full garrison of Hammerite Troops.  My wonderful escort, I thought to myself, cussing under my breath.  I glanced at the clock on the mantle, which read 6:34 am.  I hate early risers!  The sound they had made came from striking a large iron sledge hammer against a large iron gong.  Not one hammer and one gong, but five hammers and five gongs.  If my home had not been so far from town, it would have woken up the entire quadrant.  It looked like there were twelve Hammerite soldiers, and a crowd of Hammerite workers and scientists who were tending this large device sitting in the middle of my wide path.  Wishing I had time to properly shower, I threw on my outfit from the last night, grabbed my cloak, and hurried down the stair, making my way to the front door.

 

Once downstairs, I made it halfway through my living chamber before I noticed that one of James’ men had dropped off a letter in my favorite drop box: the end table by the sofa.  The speed of it all was no surprise, for James and his men worked very, very quickly.  In a rush to get outside before the Hammers drew too much attention to themselves, I quickly read it.

 

D:

Intelligence will begin investigation of the Lady, effective immediately. I will begin archival work on my return, which should be today, for I have cut my vacation short due to the urgency of this matter.  I am presuming this is a long-term operation and that stealth is more important than speed. Please advise if haste is warranted; and if so, to what degree we should be willing to risk exposure of our operation to the target. From the material presented I suggest we move slowly and carefully for now; if the Lady is whom I suspect her to be from this information and their disturbing correlation to certain veiled hints in ancient writings, this may be an extremely hazardous operation -- as hazardous as, and closely entwined with, events last fall. We will, of course, work to confirm or deny this hunch.

By the way, don't be too hard on Schinler. He's still pretty green. Nonetheless, his failure of nerve was serious and has been noted in his record. I have suggested to his section chief that he undergo further training or relegation to lower-stress taskings.

 – J  22.14 24.3

 

The letter arrived none to soon, for it backed up my suspicions and would make my argument to the Hammers all the more forceful.  I opened the door just in time to see five iron sledgehammers strike five gongs.  If I hadn’t been gripping the doorknob the sound would have thrown me a good distance backward.  As it was it knocked the wind out of me, and caused my ears to ring for a good hour thereafter.   Seeing me, the entire squad jolted to attention.

 

The middle gonger stepped forward and shouted, “Master Nightfall!  We, the servants of his high eternal majesty, the Master Builder, stand ready to escort the Builder’s Emissary to the Grand Cathedral, upon his Lordship’s, the High Priest of the Order of the Hammer, request!”  At least, that’s what I think he said, my ears were still ringing terribly.  I slowly walked out the door and up the short path to the gate, not wishing to appear undignified by my dizziness.  I truly wished that little worm Jossimer had gotten that gong instead of me.  Where was the creep anyway?  I considered firing him the next time I saw him.  I should have known better than to let James talk me into hiring a butler;  even if he makes really good tea.

 

“Yes, good,” I said simply, as I opened the gate and the entire group of them broke into a very brief genuflect.  “Ahem, yes,” I said again closing the gate behind me, when they all had resumed standing. 

 

“Thou art prepared to travel forth now, Master Nightfall?” He shouted.

 

I put my hand down hard on the soldier’s shoulder.  “PLEASE, good sir, you do not need to SHOUT, good sir, I am RIGHT HERE, my very, very good sir.”

 

He looked at me with a bewildered expression.

 

“Let’s go,” I said simply, giving up.

 

“Please step into the Automated Travel Unit!”  he shouted.

 

I looked at the contraption, and my brow furrowed.  “A horseless carriage?” I said under my breath. It was a very large contraption, mostly taken up by a riveted iron cylinder, which sat upon several large wheels. Smaller cylinders were linked to the larger one by pipes, and these smaller cylinders were linked by rods to the wheels; beyond that, I could not fathom its workings. Towards the back was perched a pair of compartments. One was occupied by a  trio of Hammers, and the other was mostly taken up by a large mound of coal and a small tank of water. Crammed in on one corner was a pair of seats under a small awning. The coal furnace threw off a great deal of heat, and the occasional cinder came floating back towards me from the smokestack. The Hammers operating the beast seemed to consist of a driver, in charge, and two with shovelers to feed the furnace; all three were blackened by soot, drenched with sweat, and wearing the peculiar grin worn by those who truly adore their mechanical toy. Once I was aboard, after a slow and reluctant journey, the engineer moved some levers, and with a loud hissing noise the machine lumbered into motion...

With a jolt and a shudder, the thing started to move, controlled by a Hammerite Scientist up front, who was frantically turning valves, and pulling levels back and forth.  It rotated slowly in place, until we were facing the stairway down, and we proceeded forth. I knew I was in for a slow ride, seeing as the twelve soldiers obviously planned on marching along side the thing.  Suddenly it hit me.  How did they get this thing up the stairway?  How was it going to get down?  I dreadfully faced the fact that I would soon find out exactly how, and I was not looking forward to the possibilities.  I held on for dear life as the crate, being driven by six wheels, navigated its way down the winding stair, shaking like hell as the hard metal wheels struck each step, and dropped down to the next.  I wondered why I hadn’t heard the thing coming up in the first place, it was making so much noise! 

 

 

- James:  On the Job -            Day 3:  8:00am

 

We returned from our excursion in the south, ahead of schedule, due the sudden turn in events.  We were weary but happy, having visited a number of fascinating antiquities and renewed contact with old friends. But, weary or not, a situation had developed, and I soon set to work. As always, the task had several components.

Step one: I asked Corinne, my wife, to plunge into the archives. She doesn't go through them quickly -- but she goes through them thoroughly -- and thereby she picks up on scraps and threads of information that most researchers miss. She also loves working in the archives, so she went happily to work.

Step two: get agents on the job. After a quick conference with the watch-officer, we agreed to send a scholar along on the Hammerite Crypt mission. No sense sending yet another thief, as the team was expected to have stealth aplenty; but a scholar might find information the others would miss. Hopefully the others would keep the poor lad alive. In addition, after a conference with my Chief of Staff, several agents were assigned to gather information on the streets, and one to try to watch this place in the woods. Set a man to catch a man...

Step three: my job. Time to immerse myself in recent reports, and see what might come of them.  Then follow those up with a bit of ancient research of my own, following up the suspicions I had mentioned earlier to Daneel.

After a day of intense work, a great deal of consumption of beans from java, and several requests from Corinne for willow-bark tea -- "These people had terrible handwriting!", she complained -- we began to have the beginnings of a picture, and I wrote to Daneel.

 

- Nightfall:  A Conference at SoulForge -      Day 3:  9:00am

 

“Master Nightfall, even if thou hadst more accurate information regarding this structure and its occupants, thy source is discreditable at best!”  The High Priest didn’t look at me when he spoke.  His half-closed eyes spent most of their time examining the golden gavel he held tightly in his left hand.  He sat erect in his grand marble throne. After a short pause, he looked up at me, his sharp stare attempting to pierce and wound my icy composure.

 

“I ask thee, what more information and creditability doth thou need?  The very hinting of a rumor that such a structure exists, without record, and without warrant, deep within these woods should be enough to call you to action to investigate.”  I looked at him as I spoke, mocking him with the lack of intensity in my voice.  His face erupted into a grimace as he saw the nodding approval of his subordinate Hammerite priests.  He suddenly stood, looked away from the council, stroking his beard with the hand that did not clutch the gavel.

 

The High Priest slowly turned back to face the council of priests, seated around the oval table.  “Brother Masok, quickly, send five of thy fastest men to the lodge in the forest.  Instruct them to search the area which the Emissary hath described, form a tactical report, and return here at once.”  He then retook his seat.

 

“Yes my lord.”  The man immediately rose and walked out the grand double doors.

 

The High Priest again brought his eyes to me, but spoke to his fellow Hammerites.  “If this building houses, as the so-called Master Nightfall suggests, a pagan, then we shall make an example out of it.”  He pronounced every syllable of my surname mockingly.

 

Suddenly one of the brother priests spoke up.  “Lord, should we not employ the skills of the master thief Garrett in the investigation of this structure?  If our servants are discovered investigating, then the inhabitants may flee, and we shall loose our chance to, as you say, make examples out of them.”

 

The eyes of the High Priest narrowed.  He let the brother finish, but it was obvious that he wasn’t considering the suggestion.  “The name of that man is not to be spoken within these halls!  Our debt to him has been paid by Brother Karras, he is now to be considered no more than a criminal, with the penalty of death by torture on his head when apprehended!”

 

The brother shuffled in his chair, as if the gaze of the High Priest was injuring him.  He gave half a glance to Brother Karras at the far end of the room.  “Pardon my words, my lord.”

 

“When our servants return with information concerning the location and fortification of this structure, we shall launch a full assault, crush the building to its foundations, and slay all that reside within.  It shall be a grand example to ALL who would oppose our rule that our justice is swift and merciless!”

 

“May the Master Builder guide us to victory!” a particularly old one shouted, a shout that was greeted by many enthusiastic agreements.  The High priest then struck his gavel to the table three times, and the meeting was adjourned.

 

“My brothers, please allow me a moment alone to speak with the Master Nightfall in private,” the High Preist said, as they stood and began to talk amongst themselves.  At that, that all left promptly.

 

I stood and looked at him, my hands resting on the back of my chair.  He just stood and looked at me, his arms folded across his chest.  He was rather young for a high priest.  This is of course attributed to the fact that the last high priest died rather unexpectedly last winter, no doubt a result of the torture he received at the hands of the Trickster’s minions.  This man was the most worthy of the old high priest’s five apprentices, and was thus chosen by the council to lead.  When I say that he was young I do not mean that he was youthful.  He appeared to be in his late forties, a very young age for the leader of the entire Order of the Hammer.  He was sturdy and tall, and didn’t stand with the common frailty one may expect from a Hammerite priest.  I could tell he was examining me just as I was him.

 

“I have only this to say to thee, Daneel of Todulem.  My predecessor decided that thou art the one prophesied as the emissary of the Master Builder.  Thou art the strange man who arrived at The City, having never been seen before, preforming great miracles of stone and beam, right after the return and defeat of this Order’s greatest enemy.  All in the prophecy points to thee being the man who speaks directly to the Master Builder.  However I refuse to believe that a man such as yourself, who has more in common with those damnable Keepers, could have anything to do with our Order.  It is only out of respect to my predecessor, may his soul reside eternally by the Master Builder’s side, and this council, who seem to have undying faith in you, that I recognize you as anything more than an arrogant nobleman, who undoubtedly has countless ties to the underworld.  If it were up to myself, I would have you executed immediately, mutilated, your head cast in bronze and displayed on my shelf, and your burned broken body paraded through the streets of The City, as an example to all that NONE are above the law of the Order of the Hammer!”  As he stood there saying this, the tension in this face grew to a scowl, and his voice thundered.

 

I simply looked at him coolly, and replied, in my smug manner, “The Master Builder appreciates thy skepticism, my brother.  Yet faith is also needed for thee to truly serve thy master.”  I could almost hear the steam rising from his brow as I turned around and left the room.

 

I never asked to be cast in this role.  It wasn’t my idea at all.  Still, it was very useful to have this kind of voice in the highest level of the most powerful organization in The City.  I wanted nothing to ruin it.  The High Priest was jealous -- very jealous.  He disliked the thought of any mortal being closer to his God than he was, and he hated me for it.  It made me stay on my toes, for I was sure he would jump on every and all opportunity to destroy the image the rest of the council had of me. 

 

After a short navigation, I made my way down to Soulforge Cathedral's main hall.  This place was nearly an exact reproduction of the lost cathedral in the forbidden sector, only about four times larger, and five times more mechanical.  Nearly everything about this place was automated, from the shutters that opened and closed by timer, to the lanterns which lit by the press of a button, to the doors which opened automatically via pressure plate on the stone floor in front of them.  The time since the death of the Trickster has been the most prosperous time in the history of this Order.  New devices were being invented daily, new breakthroughs in architecture and engineering occurred at breakneck speed.  The main hall of the building through which I now walked was the largest continuous indoor chamber ever constructed.  When the humidity was right, storm clouds formed inside the massive vaulted room.  Things like the rib vault and flying buttress made this all possible, and it was a creation which, I say in all honesty, reminded me of home more then anything else.  The sight of the colored light pouring through the stained glass windows that flanked the center aisle created breathtaking beauty in a place normally considered to be cold, gray, and rigid.

 

I was in an interesting position, one held by very few.  I could see the Order of the Hammer from the inside, rather than having it hidden by the dark iron curtain, which was all that outsiders were privy to.  Yet I was not blinded into still, cold rigidness, experienced by one truly of the order, his mind filled with their doctrines and methodology.  I pondered briefly what it would be like if I seized control of this Order.  Could I turn it around, reforming it to be able to appreciate the beauty of creation, reshape it onto a fair and unoppressive government, or would I too become cold and corrupted?  I shook the through out of my mind as I reached the huge double doors leading to the massive walkway to Town Square.

 

 

- Lytha:  The Unexpected Guests -    Day 3:  10:00am

 

Getting out of the city had become a pain in the recent months. After The Hammerites had beaten the Trickster, they stalked around as if now they alone ruled the City.

 

Only a year ago, you could count the number of Hammerite patrols on the streets with one hand. It was said that the Order would become extinct, because no one wanted to join them anymore. “Just a bunch of guys wishing for the old days” was what they were called.  But after their glorious victory over the Trickster, after all the speeches and processions, they had convinced many young men to follow them. They gave a goal in life to the purposeless, they gave rules to the uncertain, they gave security to the anxious. Then they gave us more rigid laws than before.

 

And more patrols.

 

Startled from my thoughts by some footsteps, my reflexes led me into a shadow. As if they had heard my thoughts, some Hammerites walked along, full of self-confidence. I let them pass by and kept unseen. This time I had been lucky, once again. I sighed, and checked that my small bow was still well hidden under my cloak. Then I stepped on the street again and continued my way to the northern gate of the City.

 

The north gate was heavily guarded in the recent days. It seemed that the Hammerites feared a threat from the outside. Probably they had annoyed the countries in the neighborhood, or provoked a war by invasions into the other countries.  Well, I don't care for politics. Politicians are only a bunch of corrupt nobles who try to rule, but in fact, they are only puppets on a stage, lead by fanatics who stay in the background.

 

I shrugged, and checked the bow and my quiver again. They were still hidden enough from the eyes of those arrogant guards. I lifted my hood, following the rule: If a guard thinks you are only a nice young woman with sandy hair, he will probably only molest you and never think you were his enemy. I forced a relaxed, friendly smile on my face, and stepped towards the gate.

 

Two Hammerite guards stood there, grinning in my face.

 

"Hello, missus," one of them said.  From the looks of him, he was a very fresh one.  His Hammerite Novice haircut was still very evident.

 

I nodded at him. The second rule is: If you feel so much hate against them, do not speak with them. Do a friendly smile, nod, shrug, but never say a word -- they could hear the hate in your voice.

 

"Walking alone, are we?" he continued. They even tried to stand more upright and to look smarter. Damn bastards.

 

I shrugged, smiling. At this point, it discourages them, somehow, but always. Must be the lack of contact with women in the Order. Sissies.

 

"Well, then, pass by, young missus," he stepped back.

 

Giving him a friendly smile, I left the city. I could hear them babbling at my back, but I did not take notice of it anymore. No need to waste more time than necessary with them. The friendly smile cracked off my face as I reviewed my plans.

 

I would now break into that lodge in the woods. I had heard that there was more loot in the deeper floors than one single greedy thief could carry in both hands. That was ideal for my purposes: I needed enough cash for the more important goals in my life.  I actually only had one goal, after I had found my sister tortured and driven into madness by the bloody Hammerites -- revenge.

 

My last expedition into the former central Hammerite temple (before they built Soulforge) had ended in a panicked escape. Somewhere in the temple I had lost the letter my sister had written in her unreadable signs. Confused as she was, she had signed it with my name. I wondered for a moment if it would cause trouble when someone found it, but I relaxed as I remembered its unreadability. I, myself, had not been able to decipher one single word. Only my name, Lytha, at the bottom of it, and the address on its top: Master Nightfall. I had never met that man, but heard some rumors about him. Well, making contacts was never my greatest skill. I prefer to rely on myself, rather than on some contact person. You never know when they’ll betray you.

 

Still, I could not help but wonder if he would recognize the name.  A good thief does not give into the temptation of fame, and keeps her identify secret, and I was a very good thief.  Still, rumor of ones activities always tend to proceed one, no matter who one is.  In some alleys, I was known as Lytha the Mad, and others, Lytha of the Golden Heart.  It seemed fitting that I would be host to those two highly contrasting titles.

But then, the picture of Thalia’s scarred face and the deformed hands came back into my mind. I buried her corpse two days ago. A fresh grave in the wood behind her hut was everything that remained of her. She had managed to survive for three months after the Hammerites discarded her. Hate came upon me.

It’s not easy to write with once broken wrists. I would deliver them a payback. Thalia had been the last drop in a full barrel.  My hate had now overwhelmed me.  Lytha the Mad indeed -- how fitting.  So heavy was the hatred that I almost wanted to leave my usual principle of staying unseen behind me. I wanted revenge; bloody revenge. I wanted to see them on the floor, enjoy their fear, and destroy them.

 

Lost in those thoughts, I walked towards the hunting lodge of the Lady. I did not take notice of anything, until I almost fell into a ditch. Stumbling, I came back to reality.

 

The lodge seemed quiet, almost deserted.

 

"Good for me", I mumbled, crouching forward.

 

I think that it is always good to have a look at the target before entering it. So, I snuck around the house. It had the shape of a five pointed star. The roof started immediately over the first floor. The entire building was made from wood. It did not look very special, apart from the five small towers on the edges of the wall and some windows with the Trickster's eye painted on them. I hoped that the rumors of deeper floors with much loot were right, because it looked disappointing from the outside.

 

The main gate was closed; not that the idea of entering the house through the main gate ever touched my mind. Taking the main gates of a house has absolutely no style, and very often it is trapped with an alarm system, or with guards who are easy to alert.

 

I shot a rope arrow into the roof of one of the towers and climbed up. The tower had one chair in it, and not enough space for any other furniture. I stumbled over it when I went to the door. Luckily, the door opened to the inside of the lodge, or else it would have been blocked by the chair. Behind the door was a narrow, winding staircase. I stopped in the small shadow by the threshold and listened to the sounds from the inside. Just another disappointment -- nothing to hear; only the wind blowing over the roof. I took the stairs and entered the first floor. It seemed that every tower had its own staircase, and all of them led into a hallway close to the outer wall. The hallway surrounded the building. I avoided the main gate - not out of necessity, but out of training. The painted windows lit the floor in mixed colors.

 

I chose one door to the inner rooms at random, and entered a kitchen. Some fresh food lay on the tables.  Some plates were arranged on a border. They had cheerful pictures of rural life painted on them. The rustic impression was completed by a tea tray on the table. The cups had cute flowery patterns. The tea was cold. I relaxed and opened some drawers of the cupboard -- only the normal cutlery and some coins. I took the coins.

 

The kitchen was formed in a triangular shape, fitting to the shape of this point in the star. It had one door in every wall, leading to the other points, two plus the one to the outer hallway. I choose the left, and found a living room with a fireplace. The fire was not burning. Some shelves with books were on the center wall. I read the titles, but found nothing incriminating: only novels, and some love stories. I tugged them one by one, looking for a book-switch, and found nothing.  I touched the walls, searching for trapdoors. I even crawled into the fireplace. Nothing.

 

I became slightly annoyed, and rushed through the other rooms: a bedroom, a bathroom, and a small office. Everything was nice and tidy. I found some jewelry in the bedroom, but nothing of much worth. A picture of a couple in front of a fireplace provoked my curiosity, but it was far too decent to be used for blackmailing -- they were not undressed. The newspaper and the bills in the office revealed nothing. It would have been only exciting for people who enjoy bets in the bear-pits. In a wardrobe were some weapons: a bow and a dagger -- items used for hunting parties. The bathroom revealed nothing but a huge bathtub. After I looked under the soap without finding anything, I got more annoyed.

 

Angry, I sat down and imagined a map of the house. I came to the conclusion that the nice tidy rooms combined perfectly to the inner pentagram. The outer wall was not thick enough for secret passages.

 

I climbed and entered every one of the five towers. All of them were similar: one chair, alone on the entire floor. The walls of the staircases were solid. I climbed on the flat roof and found no trapdoors. I went back into the house. Leaving a mess is not my style, but this time I was so enraged that I threw some of the plates with the cute paintings on the floor. They shattered with a satisfying crunch. Grinning, I looked into every wardrobe and cupboard, behind every piece of furniture, again. I threw the books from the shelves and searched for secret buttons. I found nothing and left the lodge by way of my rope.

 

Back on the outer ground, I realized that the house had indeed a basement. I could see a very narrow barred window, half-hidden in the earth. I had a look into the basement behind it. It was mostly dark downstairs, but I spotted some shiny golden things.

 

I climbed the rope again, feeling that I strained my muscles far too much with this steady up and down. I entered the tower again, wheezing.

 

This time I wished that I had brought a sword with me. I went into the office and took the hunting dagger from the wardrobe, and started to cut the curtains down -- no secret doors. I threw some of the pictures down to the floor -- no buttons. I opened every drawer of every desk -- no buttons, again.  There was nothing under the pillows in the bed.

 

Running through the house in mad anger, I threw almost everything on the floor. What enraged me even more was that my footsteps sounded everywhere like I was walking over the ceiling of a huge hall. If I had found an ax, I would certainly have tried to break through the floor.

 

I must have run through the lodge for hours. At last, almost crying, I decided to give up. I did not even bother to take my rope arrow back. I headed to the main gate, just because it was so easy to access.

 

When I opened it, the bright sun shone into my eyes and blinded me. But I saw some shadowy, hammer-wielding silhouettes. Both they and I stood quietly for some seconds, frozen from fear. I regained control over my body first, turned and ran back into the lodge. Somehow, I stumbled over the lush carpet. I fought to stay on my feet.  The lost second was enough for some of the smarter Hammerites to realize that I was no huge scary monster, but only a small person with a hood that tried to escape. One of them aimed his crossbow at me, and shot just when I continued my run. It went through my left shoulder and its momentum pulled me forward. I fell on my face. The sharp front end of the bolt went through the carpet into the wooden floor and nailed me to the ground. I tried to suppress the cry. I struggled to come free, but one of the Hammerites had already stepped beside me. A kick in my left side made me gasp for breath. Another kick broke my left upper arm. With the sound of the crunching bone in my ears, I was overcome by the heavy, sharp pain. Fighting for consciousness, I heard more Hammerites approach. They turned me on my back, ripping the arrow out of my shoulder. I tried to raise my hands to protect my head from the constant kicks, but I had no control over my muscles.

 

Fainting, I heard them say: "So, this is all we shall have for a trophy, eh?"

 

"But... I have seen this face before. Is this not the thief who tried to break into the old temple two days ago?" Someone tried to look at my face.

 

"Yes, I hadst seen that face when we chased her out. She is this thief. Left in a hurry, didn't she? A scared little coward she was. Feeling so clever." Another kick.

 

In the following laughter, someone said: "Thou shalt not rob from the house I have built, so says the Master Builder! We should find out what she wanted in the temple. Take her to Brother Inquisitor."

 

 

- Jyre: The Lynx Stalks the Tiger -    Day 3:  1:00pm

 

I watched him enter the small shop from the corner of an alleyway, and smiled. Nobody noticed me. I was just another beggar to them, filthy and stinking. My face and hands were smeared with soot from the fire. My clothes stank after sleeping in the dirty washwater over night. The disguise was perfect. In many people's eyes, I didn't even exist.

 

“The hunt” was one of my favorite pastimes. I would choose my prey early in morning. It had to be someone reasonably rich, but not so rich as to attract an overly large amount of attention. And then I would stalk him. I would follow him from house to market, through the streets and even, once, into a church. Sometimes, when I was well off, I would spend days doing this, just to prove I could. And when the time was right, I would take him. A swift crack to the back of the head was normally enough to drop them. Then I'd take everything they had bought that day and their gold, if they had any left.

 

But today things would be different. Today I would not take from my prey, I would give. Today my prey was Master Nightfall.

 

He stepped out of the shop and for one terrifying second he seemed to stare straight at me. Then his gaze moved on and I put it down to my imagination. No one had ever seen me before. I had no reason to think things would be any different this time. I waited until he had started on his way once more, then tagged along behind. His route was winding and he stopped several times before he finally turned for home. I was just rounding a corner behind him when something tripped me. I was grabbed by the collar and hauled of my feet. Looking up, I saw him. "Master Nightfall..," I gasped.

 

My wits were scattered about as he slowly let go of my ragged shirt, and gently dusted me off with a few quick strokes of his gloved hand.  “So, Jyre,” he said with a half smile, “the lynx stalks the tiger today?”  His smile then widened and he leaned against the side of the building.  As soon as I regained my bearing, I noticed that we were in a narrow alleyway, about fifty yards down from the main street.  I suddenly remembered why I had been following him and reached into my pocket to retrieve my letter to him.  I really should not have been surprised when he started reading it out loud to me.

 

Master Nightfall,

 

Captain Els, he is sick. He coffs much and his lungs do wees. The healer man did give him medsin. Said that captain should by fire stay til better he be. To the lodge as we planned cannot we go.

 

I seek work, Master Nightfall. The streets be poor not, but I wish me for more... difficults. You understand? The word... Chalinge? For anything I would be grateful... Go to the Red Dragon In and make askings for me. Point you right they will.

 

One last thing I would ask from you. Do you no of this lodge? The words we did find made little mention. Apresheatted and needed be your helps.

 

Your servant,

Jyre.

 

By the time he looked up from reading it, I was gone.

 


Chapter 4 - A Mission's End, a Mission's Dawn

 

- Jyre: A Change of Plans - Day 3: 5:00pm

 

"I don't want you to go, Jyre."

 

Those were the first words Captain Els had spoken since he had first picked up the pen to record my tale. He had listened as I spoke, recorded the words as I told them, but almost from the first second he had had that disapproving frown on his face.

 

"Why not? This is good info. We need anything we can get on Her Ladyship. You said so yourself!" I stepped away from the wall towards the rickety writing desk. My shadow masked Els's face. "I'll be gone two days. Three at the most."

 

Els coughed. A horrible, racking cough. It scared me. When he finally caught his breath he shook his head. "I don't think it’s the information you're after, somehow."

 

I snorted and turned away, casting my gaze on the quiet street outside. "You think I'd do something like this for money?"

 

"No. But you'd sure as hell do it for the adventure!" He had moved behind me and now placed a large hand on my shoulder. "I worry, Jyre. What makes you think you can trust him?"

 

"He's well known for his... contacts."

 

"He's also well known as an idiot and a bastard! I still can't believe you're willing to risk your life for a rumor!"

 

I could feel his body heat through my clothes and for a second I didn't want to leave. Then I pushed him away. "You'll take the letter to Nightfall?"

 

Els stepped back. "At first light."

 

I picked up my pack and slung it over my shoulder. "And you'll look after yourself?"

 

"Of course."

 

I was almost out the door when he spoke again.

 

"Shall I give him your love?"

 

The question brought me to a halt. I felt my face burning. "It's not like that and you know it."

 

"Oh no?" There was a cocky smile on his face now.

 

"He... fascinates me, that's all. He's so well known and yet he somehow manages to remain a mystery."

 

"He's certainly intriguing, I'll give you that. But that doesn't make me want to pour my soul out to him."

 

I stepped outside and shut the door. I still didn't understand why I had done that myself.

 

 

- Nightfall: It's Not a Good Thing to Forget - Day 4: 8:00am

 

It’s hard to enjoy your breakfast when you are worrying about three people. James I really did not have to worry about. Be it avoiding Hammerite scouts wile investigating the lodge, or thwarting the wrath of this Lady should he be discovered digging up dirt on her, I knew that he was more then capable of taking care of himself. I had no doubt that he could search that building from steeple to cellar without being seen by a fly. Then there was Jyre, who told me that she needed my help in the note, but then vanished. Latter last night I went to the inn Jyre spoke of in her letter, but no-one there knew where she was. I could have her tracked down easily, but I dislike doing such things to such people. She would come to me, I hoped, without doing anything rash. She seemed to be a crafty person to have survived so far, leaving little doubt that she’s still quite fine. However there was a dash of guilt that stuck in my mind like a splinter. When I had requested the Hammers investigate the Lodge, and I had neglected to warn the old woman to stay clear of the place, lest she be found by the Hammers and subjected to things I would care not to think about while chewing on bacon and eggs. But my train of thought was cut short.

 

"Master, a letter for you --"

 

"Can’t ya see the master’s eatin’!!"

 

Jossimer’s rude interruption of my meal received a sharp objection from my cook, Mrs. Marith Henrett. Unlike Jossimer, she was a servant I actually appreciated (and coincidentally received the highest pay). An old woman in her mid sixties, she sort of reminded me of my grandmother when I was a child. Standing only a little under five feet tall, with a very slight figure, this little old woman cooked the best meals I could ever ask for. Not only that, but I enjoyed how she constantly picked on Jossimer for his incompetence, so I didn’t have to!

Jossimer, ignoring Marith’s verbal bashing, walked stiffly up to where I was seated and laid a note on the table. "This was nailed to the front gate with this, Master." He handed me a custom made dagger. The wooden hilt had a figure of a woman moving in swirling mist carved into the side. For a moment I was more interested in the dagger, and after a brief examination concluded that it did indeed have some artistic value, even if it was relatively worthless. Reluctantly, after finishing my orange juice, I picked up the letter and read it.

 

Nightfall, do I gather by your not showing to the meeting that you're not interested in the Star of Alarus, or were you just so busy you couldn't be bothered to reply? I thought I’d get a definite answer if I pinned this note to your butler Jeeves, but I decided that might not make a favorable impression. Anyway, you want it or not? I have a big ummm... project coming and I need cash for supplies and lets just say I don't want to go unprepared. I'll be in the tavern by the docks early this morning, corner table to the left of the door. If you don't show by nine this piece of jewelry goes to the highest bidder.

 

-Ghost

 

Cursing myself for being so forgetful, (hey, it’s just a bauble) I thanked Marith for the wonderful meal, grabbed my cloak, and dashed out to the meeting place. I only had two hours to make it clear across town, so I decided I had better hurry.

 

 

- James: On Task - Day 4: 8:00am

 

I took the latest message to Master Nightfall down to the kitchen and asked the cook for two mugs of tea; then went into the messenger's waiting room. Quin was there, a lass we'd hired several years before. I handed her a mug of tea, and inquired about Spence, her beloved Stafford terrier. Spence, an ugly but very friendly beast, had been part of our recruitment deal with Quin -- we provided it with critical medical care Quin couldn't afford, and part of her contract was a proviso for continuing to provide this service. After a few minutes chatting about Spence's affairs, I asked her to take the message to Daneel, and she sped off.

 

 

- Ghost: A Casual Business Venture - Day 4: 7:00am

 

Getting through The City early in the day is usually pretty easy. It gives you good practice at avoiding being seen without the use of shadows. You also get to practice your pick-pocket skills on the early birds. Not to mention the fact that most of the guards are exhausted from having to take the graveyard shift. But this morning was different. I had a meeting to get to and wasn't bothering to even stay concealed. I did, of course, keep an eye open for Hammerite patrols. Getting to the docks area is simple. It's not far out of the main area of town, but still far enough to keep most of the patrols light. Finally I arrived at the bar where Nightfall was to meet me, or where it seemed I was meeting him. I had had the feeling that I was being set up for a while now. Maybe he just wanted to test my persistence by not answering my first offer to sell the Star.

 

Inside The Drunken Mermaid, the typical sort lingered. Some fisherman types, some pirate types, and some cloaked unscrupulous types ( like me), sat around drinking and making sure not to make eye contact with anyone else. As I approached my normal table I saw I had guests. The men sitting at it looked as if they were quite comfortable until they realized they were in my seat. There were three of them, sailors. They looked rather sleepy. Their ship had probably just come into port, and they were hitting the bar to get some juice into their systems. Nothing helps a cargo unload like a good solid buzz. Surprisingly, they showed the proper respect by moving to another table. I was kind enough to not put a dagger through their hands. I sat down with my back to the wall and ordered my usual drink, warm spiced mead, and prepared to wait for Nightfall. I hoped he showed up this time.

 

An hour passed, and still no Nightfall. There was only one hour left until nine, and then I’d go home and find another buyer. Maybe Bafford would take it, but then again, he’d probably turn me in as well. Damn those Hammerite collaborators. I'm usually very edgy when I meet with someone I don't really know. He could either bring the cash for the Star, which I didn't even have on me, or he could bring the Hammerites or City Watch down on the place to rid the world of a few more undesirables. However, his reputation preceded him. He is definitely not known for betrayal. What he is definitely known for is collecting rare and valuable items, for that museum of his, “The Circle.”

 

Another hour goes by, two more mugs of mead go into me, and I'm ready to give up. It was five minutes until nine, and still no all-great and wonderful Master Nightfall. It looked like I have to take a major price cut on this thing to get rid of it. Unless I wanted to travel to some other city to find a buyer. That wasn’t likely. I stood and left a few coins on the table for the drinks and got ready to go home. I was pondering who I could pawn this thing off to when the door to the joint opened. Someone who couldn't be anyone besides Nightfall walked in. I sat back down and pulled the dark gray hood of my cloak up over my head.

 

Everyone in the place turned and looked at him. 'What was a nobleman doing here?” they probably wondered. I’m sure he enjoyed the reaction. I expected as much, but what happened next I truly did not expect. One of the darkened drunks who was buzzing around the dart board suddenly shouted out. "Barkeep! One of yer finest fer the Master Nightfall! Patron Saint of Thieves!!" A few shouts of agreement rang from several corners of the room as the stuck-up bastard politely accepted the offer. I was disgusted. How can a man have a meeting in peace with this, this, whatever he is? I was about to get up and leave when he walked past my table and deposited a note under the rim of the ashtray. I waited until the guy was up by the bar, and chatting with a band of roughnecks, before picking up the note.

 

Ghost,

 

My apologies for the scene. It’s what usually happens, sorry to say. I could say that I enjoy it no more then you do, but that would be a lie. Meet me on the platform under the wharf in ten minutes.

 

~MN

 

Skeptical, but needing this cash badly, I got up and walked out. I found the place he talked about easy enough. It was just a short jog to the wooden stair and then down the ladder to the fishing platform under the wharf. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I found him there waiting for me. "You’re early," was all he said.

 

The man is a little hard to describe. Usually when I see clothing that formal, it’s worn by a fat nobleman, but the stuff he wore was no more suited to a nobleman than he was fat. If you could imagine the standard thief / assassin / spy type outfit, but filthy rich rather then filthy with dirt, you’d get the idea. The only thing that was different was instead of a hood, he wore a black hat, flat topped, with a brim that came halfway out to the edge of his shoulders. The only part of his face I could see really was that crooked smile of his.

 

"You’re late!" I said, quite pissed. "I told you be there before nine."

 

"I arrived at exactly eight fifty-seven," he said, as he whipped out his pocket watch to show me that he knew exactly what time it was. "I told you be here in ten minutes. You’re three minutes early."

 

I was about to get really steamed when the guy broke into laughter.

 

"Yeah, yeah, ha, ha, very funny." I balked. "So do you have the cash."

 

"Do you have the merchandise?"

 

"I have it. Not on me, but I have it."

 

"I’ll need it before I give you the pay."

 

"I can’t trust you to give me the pay if I give you the merchandise first."

 

He smirked at me. "Paying in advance will decrease its value to me. You may have your money first, but you will not get as much."

After considering, I agreed. "Fine." Better to be sure I get my cash and get less, then risk not getting it at all.

 

"Very well. I’ll give you five hundred gold for it."

 

It was a good offer, I’ll have to admit, but I always try and see what I can get out of people.

 

"No, seven hundred gold."

 

"I may have considered seven hundred if you had the Star with you. As it stands that price is out of the question. I stand by my original offer."

 

I eyed him narrowly. Haggling was no doubt something this creep made an art of. "All right, six hundred and fifty gold."

 

He shook his head. Damn, he had me. He knew I would have a hell of a time trying to sell it to anyone else. That is, anyone else who wouldn’t turn me in for it. I figured I might as well fight this one out.

 

"Six hundred and thirty gold."

 

"I’ll give you five hundred gold, and I'll make sure that I spread your name around to a few trustworthy fences who are in need of thieves who come with my recommendation."

 

Hot damn, that was tempting. Still, fame wouldn’t buy me supplies… or would it? I could get some better jobs if some good fences out there knew of me. I had made the right choice coming to Master Nightfall after all! Still, I wanted to see if I could get more gold out of him. "All that, plus six hundred gold."

 

His smile vanished. "Don’t push it."

 

"Fine, five hundred gold. Deal."  I stuck out my hand, and Nightfall grasped it and shook firmly. "I’ll bring you the Star as soon as the gold is tucked away in my apartment."

 

He nodded, and produced five bags of gold from his pouch. I wondered why I hadn’t just mugged the man, but then I noticed his quarter staff leaning against the wall. I had fought a man who used a quarter staff once. It looks no more harmless then a blackjack, but boy was I wrong. It wasn’t pretty, I can tell you that much. I opened each bag, pulled out a coin, bit it to test it, and was soon satisfied that I was now the proud owner of five hundred gold coins. This could buy me quite a few water arrows and flash bombs. "Great, thanks Mister Nightfall. Where should I deliver the Star?"

 

"To The Circle. I’ll be in my office until six tonight. I trust you know the way?"

 

"No problem, it will be there."

 

He nodded, gave a brief smile, and then leaned against the wall and just stood there. I guess he was waiting for me to leave, so I did. I made a beeline for my apartment, several miles north of the docks.

 

 

- Nightfall: A Letter of Solomon News - Day 4: 9:10am

 

Charming fellow, that Ghost. I had expected him to be a tougher haggler, but I suppose he did well. The Star was easily worth the seven hundred gold he requested, but as much as I didn't mind giving to charity, I did need to maintain a reputation. Still, if he didn’t come back with the Star, I could always find more then enough thugs to lean on him for me. A crooked glyph chalked onto the manhole cover caught my eye. James had information for me. I walked to the other side of the street, and halfway down an ally to grab the letter which was sitting on a window sill.

D:

Tread carefully with the Lady. The suspicions I had earlier can be confirmed; this is no normal threat. The streets have produced no information yet save one informant who was killed before making her rendezvous; others clearly know of the Lady but are too terrified to speak. So much would indicate strong, current, coercive power. However, a curious glyph was left carved on her back after she was killed; and this has been a worrisome clue.


The same glyph has been found in a number of references C has dug out of the archive; and there, too, it is only referenced en passant and in tones of terror. The power behind the glyph is linked to the Trickster and the Wood, but as a sometime ally, not as a servant. Certainly a dark and chaotic force, in any event, and ill-disposed towards men.


Is the use of the glyph in this age merely an accident? I think not. Is it a false lead, set by a normal enemy to deceive, or to wear the mantle of an ancient terror? Again, I suspect not. The terror is forgotten for long years in the records, only to crop up anew when it has slid from memory. I shall advise you soonest when we have information of more substance.

- J

 

This was looking more and more like what James and I both suspected, but cared not dare utter. There was no need for me to worry now. Everything that was happening was going correctly, regardless of whether or not we were right or wrong. At least, I hoped they were going correctly. I was sick of walking, so I called a cab.

 

I hailed a particularly shabby looking one. I didn’t care how it looked, I just wanted to get off my feet. Without any more then glancing at me, the cabby pulled up to the curb where I waited and pulled the lever to open the door. His horse relieved himself on the pavement. The tired looking young man in the driver's seat spat on the sidewalk, and then looked at me. "Where does ye wants ta gooowwhhaaooa!!! Well I’ll be a bloody taffer!! Beggen yer pardon, but what would a rich lard such as yerself be doin ‘ailin’ a rickety ol’ cab like mine ‘ere?

 

"Just consider me a patron of the working class, good sir. Please, to The Circle of Stone and Shadow, and make haste."

 

"Aye ser! I shant spare the whip ser!" With a crack of his whip horse broke into a gallop. A shame, since I wasn’t even in my seat yet. Ouch.

 

 

- Lytha: Brother Surgeon - Day 4: 10:00am

 

A bright light shone in my eyes. I opened them, squinting into the light. Five faces stared into my face. My arms and legs were kept in their position by some straps.

 

"Since we do not know by whom she hadst been sent, we do not want her crippled. Do a good job, Brother Surgeon." A young, intelligent voice spoke from the background.

 

Hands reached for my left shoulder and elbow, keeping me from moving the arm. The bright pain of metal in the flesh of the arm. The sharp, heavy pain of nails in the bone. They made a metal splint, bolted directly into the arm. All went black.

 

 

- Nightfall: At the Office - Day 4: 10:00am

 

It strikes me as ironic how my office is half the size of James’s flat, contains nearly the same amount of information, yet somehow manages to remain spotless and orderly. This was of course the fault of my secretary, Sheam, a young female ex-street urchin, ex-wench, whom I noticed reading a novel in her hovel.  While other street-scum were out begging for food, she had her nose buried in The Winds of Change. Though the activity may seem a tad insane to most, I saw her as the perfect choice for a person to keep my office in order. I hired her, and now the once dirty little street rat has a well paying job, comfortable shelter, and three square meals a day. See what education can do for you if the right person finds you? I’ve also come to the conclusion that a good percentage of The Circle’s guests (not the majority by far, mind you, but quite a few) do not come to browse the displays, but chat with the owner’s pretty secretary. I didn’t mind. After all, she enjoyed it, and a happy employee is a productive employee!

 

She looked up from the stack of papers she was sorting. "Daneel, there’s a letter for you here…" She handed it to me. "And please tell those Hammerite delivery boys that it’s impolite to stare."

 

I shook my head, smiling, and took the letter from her hand, disappearing into my office, all the while trying to contain my laughter. Oh, joy, a message from the Hammers.

 

MEMO- 09.08 08.23

DISPATCH NUMBER 475125462

ORDER OF THE HAMMER

COURIER REGISTRY 54-AF

 

FROM:

RAFAEL MORTANGRO STEINKLAW,

HIGH PRIEST, THE ORDER OF THE HAMMER

LORD OF STEINKLAW MANOR

 

TO:

DANEEL TODULEM, ALIAS "NIGHTFALL"

MASTER, THE CIRCLE OF STONE AND SHADOW

LORD OF UNNAMED ESTATE, REGESTRY NUMBER 543-AD4

 

OUR SCOUTS HAVE RETURNED FROM INVESTIGATING THE STRUCTURE, THE LOCATION AND NATURE OF WHICH YOU INDICATED TO US DURING THE EMERGENCY SESSION OF THE HIGH COUNCIL OF THE ORDER OF THE HAMMER ON 09.07. YOUR SUSPICIONS WERE CORRECT. SAID STRUCTURE DOES EXIST, AND IT BEARS THE MARKINGS OF OUR ENEMIES, THE FOLLOWERS OF THE NOW DECEASED TRICKSTER, THE PAGANS. HOWEVER THE BUILDING SEEMS TO BE ABANDONED, SAVE ONE WOMAN WE FOUND TRESPASSING ON THE RESIDENCE. THIS WOMAN APPEARED TO BE A THIEF, WHOM WE CAUGHT DURING HER RAID. SHE WAS CONVICTED ON FIVE ACCOUNTS OF RESISTING ARREST, BREAKING AND ENTERING, TRESPASSING, THEFT, BEARING FALSE WITNESS, AND CONCEALMENT OF EVIDENCE. SO FAR ALL OUR INTERROGATIONS OF HER HAVE ONLY PRODUCED HER NAME, "LYTHA". WE SUSPECT THAT THIS IS NOT HER TRUE NAME. THIS WOMAN IS ALSO SUSPECTED TO BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE BURGLARY OF THE WESTERN BRANCH MONASTARY SEVERAL WEEKS AGO. SHE IS BEING INTERROGATED FOR INFORMATION INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO, THE FOLLOWING TOPICS: HER PRESENCE IN THE STRUCTURE, HER POSSIBLE INVOLVEMENT WITH THE PAGANS WHO MADE RESIDENCE THERE, THE LOCATION OF THE EVIDENCE SHE UNDOUBTEDLY STOLE FROM THE RESIDENCE AND IS NOW CONCEALING, THE METHOD IN WHICH SHE BROKE INTO THE MONASTARY (SO THAT CORRECTIVE SECURITY MEASURES MAY BE TAKEN), THE NUMBER OF, NAMES OF, AND LOCATION OF ALL HER CONSPIRATORS AND CO-CONSPIRATORS, AND ANY AND ALL OTHER INFORMATION WHICH MAY SERVE US IN DETERMINING HER PAST CRIMES, THUS INFLUENCING THE SEVERITY OF HER PUNISHMENT, AND THE METHOD OF HER EXECUTION.

 

AT NOON TODAY, THE TASK FORCE, WHICH HAS BEEN ORDERED TO DEMOLISH THIS STRUCTURE SHALL SET OUT ON ITS JOURNEY. I ASK THAT YOU BE THERE, AND ACCOMPANY THE FORCE DURING THE ENTIRETY OF ITS MISSION. YOUR ABSENCE FROM THIS EVENT SHALL BE CONSIDERED A DIRECT INSULT TO THIS ORDER, AND WILL BE ANSWERED ACCORDINGLY.

 

IN THE MASTER BUILDER’S NAME,

LORD RAFAEL MORTANGRO STEINKLAW,

HIGH PRIEST,

FIRST IN THE ORDER OF THE HAMMER

 

I felt like ripping the letter to shreds, I was so angry. There are times when I respected the Order of the Hammer, and times when I hate them with extreme prejudice. Right now I felt the latter. Lytha, the poor old woman who lived in the forest, and warned me about the dangers of The Lady, was going to die a slow painful death at the hands of those monsters, and it was a result of my actions. I had to do something. Should I risk blowing my cover to save but one life, and endanger countless others whom I shelter if the Hammers realize my allegiances to the underworld? Sheam cut my contemplation short.

 

"Master, there is a man here to see you."

 

I was tempted to ask her to send him away, but I needed something to take my mind off of the problem at hand. It was most likely some rookie thief proudly asking for me to display the stuffed burrick head he stole. "Send him in," I told her.

 

She paused, seeing the disturbed look in my eyes. "Are… are you all right, Daneel?"

 

"I’m… fine, Sheam... just the usual Hammerite propaganda. It gets to me sometimes."

 

She nodded, not believing that lie for a second. She turned her head and motioned to a man standing by her desk to come in. "Master Nightfall, Captain Els."

 

I stood at the name of Jyre’s friend. The man walked in, his face pale and dirty, with dark circles under his eyes. He wore a half a suit of badly beaten scale mail armor. I immediately extended my hand to greet him. "Captain Els, it is a pleasure to finally meet the companion of Jyre. Please, have a seat."

 

He took my hand and gave it a weak shake. "Thank you sire, the pleasure is all mine."

 

"Not sire, please, Master Nightfall if anything so formal."

 

He smiled a little, "Yes, Master Nightfall." He looked like he was about to decline my offer to sit, but after glancing at the leather chair, and realizing how tired he was, he plopped himself down. I sat as well.

 

"What brings you here? I trust Jyre is all right… she left in quite a hurry last time I saw her."

 

He looked like he was about to say something, but then stopped, thinking better of it. He then opened his mouth to speak once more, paused, and closed it again. Finally he tried to say something, but instead of words, out came a torrent of coughs and chokes.

 

"Sheam, get Els something for his cough, quickly!"

 

She nodded from her desk outside my door, and ran off.

 

Els finally came out of it… "Please excuse me, I am still… still… recovering."

 

"Think nothing of it. Sheam will get you something to help."

 

He smiled and nodded a thank you.

 

"Now, your reason for the visit?"

 

"Oh yes, Jyre… "

 

I was becoming outwardly restless at his lack of words to describe what was going on, when he suddenly seemed to remember something.

He produced a letter from his belt. "This will explain everything." He said after I took it from his hand. I unfolded it, and read it.

 


Chapter 5 - Preparations and Prosecutions

 

- Nightfall: Jyre's Rendezvous - Day 4: 10:10am

 

The letter was not written by Jyre. The grammar was proper and it was written in script rather then text. Being as such, I wasn't sure if it had actually come from her, or if this was even Captain Els before me. Thankfully I am not nearly that paranoid.

 

Master Nightfall,

 

This letter comes to you via my trusted friend, Els, and is written in his fair hand. The reason for the first will become apparent as you read on. As for the latter, I feel it is important that every detail of my day be passed on to you and I fear my own ability with words would make such a thing impossible.

 

Let me start by telling you that after bumping in to you this morning I proceeded to the market where I had myself a wander and, I must admit, picked a few pockets along the way. Feeling a thirst in my throat from the heat I took myself to the Red Dragon Inn, where I ordered myself an orange juice (Jyre does not consume alcohol. She claims it is bad for the reflexes - Els). I had just taken a quiet seat at an out-of-the-way table when a rather portly man sat himself down beside me without so much as a 'by your leave'! I was not even given the chance to object before he spoke.

 

"Allow me to introduce myself." He held out a hand, which I ignored. If I said how he sounded smarmy would you understand my meaning? His response to my refusal was a twitter. "I am Ramirez. Perhaps you have heard of me?"

 

Oh, I had heard of him all right. During my time in the guard he had been described, if you will excuse my language, as a pompous bastard. His staff was underpaid (I had heard rumors that his guard got but half the pay of the Lady's own - Els). He was considered by many as somewhat of a money-hungry dandy. And if that wasn't bad enough I had heard tell that, during my time away, he had gotten himself on the wrong side of a notorious thief called Garrett and was robbed by the man in his own home!

 

I looked this Ramirez up and down and wondered what one such as he was doing in a dark, smoky tavern that had a reputation for being a hangout for the city lowlife. He had a light weight hooded cloak draped over him and was sat with his shoulders hunched up, no doubt trying to be inconspicuous but failing miserably.

 

"Leave me be." I turned my back to him and took a sip of my juice.

 

"I have information concerning a certain female acquaintance of ours."

 

I guess he meant for his words to sound intriguing but his tone only made me want to laugh. "Of course you do." My sarcasm bit. Deep.

 

"Don't pass me up on this, Jyre. It would bode ill for you."

 

I spun around to face him. "How?"

 

He smirked. "You're getting quite a reputation for yourself. I'd be careful if I were you, lest the wrong person hear of it."  I recognized the threat for what it was and despised it. Only the lowliest coward had need of such things. "Spit it out, Ramirez." I didn't try to mask the anger in my words.

 

"I have heard that you are seeking information on a former employer of yours..."

 

Blackmail? I wondered. I asked out loud, "You want money, Ramirez? Take a good look. Do I look like I've got money?"

Ramirez shook his head. "I am not interested in your money, though I won't deny I will profit if you take this up." Just then a passer-by jostled our table. Ramirez actually flinched! I couldn't help but laugh.

 

"What's wrong? Afraid Garrett might come after you again? Last I heard he'd gone into early retirement."

 

Ramirez pulled in his paunch and squared his shoulders, trying to prove he wasn't afraid. I wasn't fooled. "It is not fitting for a man of my standing to be seen in such company," he muttered. It was a lousy excuse.

 

"No. We're too good for you!" You should have seen his face when I said that. It was comical! But I digress. I took another sip of my juice and waited. He never spoke. "Are you going to tell me why you're here or not?"

 

He leant forward and lowered his voice. "The family of our esteemed acquaintance used to reside in the abandoned quarter."

 

"So?" I didn't get it.

 

"It is said they left in a great hurry. Many things were left behind in the confusion. Books, letters, scrolls. All abandoned."

 

"And much treasure, no doubt." I tried not to let my growing interest show.

 

"That too. I would pay you commission on any such that you find."

 

'So far, so good,' I thought to myself. Only one thing remained unsaid. "Rumor would have it that the abandoned quarter is haunted."

 

"Oh, indeed." Ramirez actually sounded pleased! "But it is not so bad as it once was. Garrett managed to deal a great deal of damage when he passed through. I will, of course, provide suitable provisions just in case you should stumble across one of the few remaining undead."

 

"You have a map?"

 

"My source was unable to acquire one. Just a brief description of the area. The house you seek is opposite the cloister gates of the deserted cathedral. It is a large house, not easily missed. Interested?"

 

I was nodding before I realized I had made a decision! Within the hour Ramirez had supplied me with water and fire crystals, as well as a half-dozen flash bombs. I returned to my small abode to inform both Els and yourself of this development. By the time this letter reaches you I will already have left. I will be in touch again as soon, as is possible.

 

Your servant,

Jyre.

 

Refolding the letter, I looked up at him grimly. He read the expression on my face all too well.

 

"She’s in grave danger, isn’t she."

 

I nodded. "Ramirez is the last person in this city to trust. He would turn in his own mother if there were a bounty on her. Doing any job for him is ill-advised, let alone in the forbidden sector.  He's also a total coward.  About a month before I came to The City he was robbed blind and publicly humiliated.  He was bedridden for weeks after being thrown in with his own pet burrick. As soon as he was well, he sold his mansion, and moved to Southquarter.  That was rather lucky for me, considering that The Circle would have been in his territory had he not sold it to the much more wise and honorable Lord Canard.  His mansion is a few blocks from here, and now acts as a funeral home."

 

He broke into another coughing fit, just as Sheam came in with a steaming mug. "Here, sip this," she said, handing it to him. As soon as he caught his breath, he took a sip, and his eyes lit up.

 

A sound of pure delight and relief came from him. "What -- what is this?" he asked her.

 

She just smiled and walked out.

 

He looked at the swirling steamy liquid. It seemed to have a slight yellowish-orange glow to it.

 

Just a little something she likes to whip up, I said with half a laugh. In diluted form it works wonders to soothe the throat. In it’s normal form, the drinker is in for quite a ride.

 

The captain didn’t seem too worried about Jyre anymore, he was just interested in this strange liquid he was now sipping. "Captain Els?" Maybe Sheam made it just a little too strong.

 

"Huh? Whahh..?" Yes, much too strong.

 

I spoke calmly. "I suggest that you make haste in rescuing Jyre. She is in grave danger. You know the way. I would leave now if I were you. Ask Sheam and she can tell you who to go to for supplies, and some aid for your ailment. Tell them that Master Nightfall sent you, and they will send the bill to me. Go, now."

 

 

- Lytha: The Cell - Day 4: 11:00am

 

My face was on the cold stone floor. I twitched, scared by the cold feeling and the pain in my left side. I tried to put myself in an upright position, but the chains between my hands hindered my attempt. Both feet and hands were shackled.

 

I looked around the place. I was in a very small cell, lightened by a very intense electrical light. It flickered irregularly. Walls and ceiling and floor were made of solid stone. Behind the bars of the door, I could see into the opposite cell. A very tall, ugly man was there imprisoned, staring at me.

 

 

- Ghost: Patron of The Circle - Day 4: 11:00am

 

To The Circle I went, Star in hand. There are some facts about the world that the vast majority of the people are totally blind to. These things often come naturally to thieves - one who wants to stay alive, anyway. A good thief with his ear to the streets just knows things, if you know what I mean. One of them is the plain and simple fact that The Circle of Stone and Shadow was not really a museum. Well, it was, but if you called it that, it would be only half the truth. Every criminal organization needs a nerve center, and The Circle was Master Nightfall’s. Normal people like to visit it and browse through the galleries of art, treasures, and literature, rather unaware that all of the stuff had, at one time, been stolen.

 

The Circle, as it is usually referred to, (some people, who want to sound intelligent or something, call it “CoSaS”) is seated in Hightowne, an area of The City between the business district and the wealthy suburban area. The building sat in the middle of a very large circular yard. There was at least an acre of land between it and the fence. The yard was nice and grassy, with a few park benches here and there. Cute. The Circle itself was roundish, shaped pretty much like a gear. There were eight vaulted structures arranged in a radial pattern around a central two-story chamber. It was simple and functional, and actually rather bland looking. The building had actually been here for years, pretty much derelict, until Nightfall began renting it. I heard that the landlord was charging almost nothing for him to use the place. I had no idea what it had been used for before it was abandoned.

 

I stepped inside and reacquainted myself with the layout of this place. It was nice of them to have a stack of maps right by the doorway. The layout was pretty simple, really. Each wing had a different feature in it, be it a museum, library, art gallery, or whatever. The northernmost wing had the label 'Executive' on it. I figured that was a fancy way of saying “boss”. Nightfall was probably hanging out in there. On my way there I checked some of the news posts tacked up in the central ring, where most of the other guests were loitering. Yes, this place was a news center too. I didn't notice anything really new.

 

After briefly glancing at the posts, making note of any new news, I continued on my way to Nightfall’s office. In a sort of pre-chamber to his office was another office, and in it sat a young attractive girl in her early twenties. Resisting the obvious urge, I simply stated my business. I pulled the Star from my pocket. "I’m here to deliver this to Nightfall," I exclaimed dryly, if that's even possible.

 

She looked up with those big green eyes. "The Master is currently seeing someone. He should be done in just a moment." Truly, I wouldn’t have minded waiting in that room at all. Unfortunately the guy who was chatting with Nightfall staggered through the door.

 

"Immm… " he blinked several times, and then took hold of the wall to keep his balance. "Mas-.. umm.. Master Nightfall says that you will take me to gear up." I wondered what was wrong with the bloke. He looked like he was slowly recovering from something, or maybe dying.

 

She nodded to him, and guided him out of the office and down the hall. As she went she told me that I could go in now. Damn, I hope that Nightfall sends me with her to go gear up too!

 

I walked in.

 

"Ah yes, come in Ghost. I trust you have the - "

 

I whipped the necklace up into his face. The guy smirked at it, and took it out of my hand with that black glove of his. "Excellent, I shall set it up tonight. Thank you Ghost."

 

"Hey, no problem! Just as long as this tribute to me and such pays off!"

 

He suddenly started to concentrate heavily. It bugged me, badly. "Ghost, are you occupied tonight?"

 

"Yes actually," I told him. Without thinking I babbled on. "I need to get into Cragscleft."

 

He dumped himself back into his chair, with an astonished look on his face. "Perfect."

 

He sprung to his feet and I jumped back about two inches.

 

"I’ll give you one thousand gold coins if you break out another prisoner for me."

 

Okay, my jaw doesn’t normally drop, but it just did. "Who?" was all I could say.

 

"A friend of mine. She’s being held in the maximum-security interrogation hall. That’s why the pay is so high."

 

"The price is right." I told him with a grin.

 

"Excellent. Time is short. I don’t want her to suffer any more then she has to. I shall reimburse you for any equipment you expend during this mission."

 

I was starting to like this Nightfall character after all. Free gear, an ultra challenging jailbreak of a damsel in distress, and a huge reward. Money, women, and adventure, what more could I ask for? It was time to kick some serious Hammerite ass.

 

 

- Jyre: Where Angels Fear to Tread - Day 4: 12:00pm

 

I stood before the wall that separated the forbidden sector from the rest of the city. Its shadow eclipsed me, bringing up goose bumps on my arms. Just standing there I could feel the evil of the place. I turned my eyes to the sky and spotted the sun through a thin veil of clouds. It would hit its zenith within the hour. Lowering my eyes, I looked back across the city towards home. With a bit of luck, Els would be with Master Nightfall by now. His illness was truly beginning to worry me. Despite the healer's potions and advice, Els' condition had badly deteriorated over the last day or so. It was more than just a cold, I was sure of it, but Els refused further aid. I had sent him to Master Nightfall with the hope that he would receive some sort of medical attention.

 

With a sigh I turned back to study the wall. It was constructed from large blocks of gray stone, now mottled and covered in patches of green and yellow moss. It seemed to like the shade and damp that hung here. What was surprising was the fact that the wall still stood at all. With the moisture so prevalent I would have thought the mortar would have crumbled and the wall collapsed long ago. The only reasonable conclusion was that the magic they said had been placed on the wall, was a reality.

 

I checked my provisions again. Food, flash-bombs, holy water vials and water arrows. As well as charcoal and paper for making notes. My magic bow I had strapped to my inner thigh and my lock-picks were tucked safely into the concealed pocket in my belt. If what Ramirez had told me was true, and I had no reason to believe otherwise, this would be a cinch. I tucked my toes into a small crevice near the base of the wall, felt for handholds above and began to climb.

 

 

- Lytha: Yes, Father Inquisitor - Day 4: 12:00pm

 

They had come, two of them. They had taken me from the cell, and dragged me through a long hallway. Behind a metal door was a torture chamber. Most of all, the draining grid on the floor caught my attention. It had blood on it. It was then when my mind was hit with the stench of excrement and gastric acid. I started to shake.

 

In a corner of this room, was a desk with a young man behind it. A large fan was behind him blowing in fresh air. They pushed me down to my knees in front of the desk and stepped back. The young man wore the clothes of an official Hammerite priest. He continued his studies of the papers on the desk. The desk was very tidy, the papers and pens were arranged in a very penile way. Its tidiness looked obscene in this room, in this smell.

 

After some more minutes reading, he looked up and at my face.

 

"I am your Inquisitor. You will address me correctly with 'Father Inquisitor.' The rules are simple. You obey and cooperate, and you will be rewarded. Otherwise you will be punished. Is this clear enough?"

 

I simply stared at him. His voice did not match his profession. It sounded so young, and so intelligent. He didn’t even use those annoying archaic thys and shalts. I couldn't believe this. A lash from behind brought me back from my thoughts. I nodded.

 

"Good. I am not fond of the usual brutal way to get information, but I know when force is needed, and I do not hesitate to use it. I believe you have the ability to speak?"

 

I nodded slowly. He sighed, and gave the guard behind me a sign. Another lash.

 

"You do want to go through all of this, only to agree that you can speak? So, can you?"

 

Whipped again, I pressed a "yes" through my lips.

 

"Ah, you can. So, I think we can continue. What is your name?"

 

 

- Ghost: Breaking into Prison - Day 4: 12:00pm

 

I was feeling much better now that I didn't have that chunk of jewelry on me. I'd hate to get stopped by the Hammers with that trinket in my pocket. Now I had some cash from the sale and an agenda I really didn't even have time to plan for. I had to get into Cragscleft. That was something most people wouldn't even consider; not on a very large bet. Planning for such an event takes time, money, maps, contacts, spying, more time, research and a hundred other things I didn't have. I only had a day at best to gather info, spy a bit to figure out how to get in, formulate a plan, gather my gear, and then go to it, before this "Lytha" ended up dead. It would be best to get her out in one piece, and breathing, since payment is more likely that way. I didn't know anyone who had a clue about Crags. No one had ever made it out before that I knew of. Well, they say that Garrett did, but they also say that he killed a god. What a load of rubbish. The Hammerites had recently remodeled anyway. Leave it to the Hammers to decide the prison wasn't big enough, and expand it four floors below the ground by clearing out some old mines.

 

I was in the middle of lunch when it just clicked in my head. Mines have to have airways! They may not have been big enough for me to squeeze into, but it was worth a shot. Getting out would have to be improvised. I didn't know what kind of condition Lytha or Ragbert were in. If neither could walk this was going to be a horrible rescue. With that on my mind I headed to the local Hammerite library. I needed to look up a little bit of mining history.

 

 

- Nightfall: A Little Hammerite Party - Day 4: 12:05pm

 

Being stylishly tardy has always been a hobby of mine. Even a mere five minutes, if it’s with the correct person, is enough to get your host steamed without getting them totally angry. In some situations the inverse is true, where being tardy was helpful, such as to dinner arrangements. To formal dinners and such it would be polite to come at lest 10 minutes late (at most 40), so that it would give the host the extra minutes to get everything “just so”. However this was not a dinner arrangement, nor was I looking to be polite. The Hammerites were obsessed about time ever since the clock was invented (a perfect use for gears). But that is rather like the pot calling the kettle black, seeing as I’ve been known to check my pocket watch at least three times every hour, and usually more.

 

I exited The City, traveling to the rendezvous point by the edge of the forest. I couldn’t miss it. A Hammerite army had gathered, with the high command here as well, to see them off. The whole thing was a good hundred yards away from the city wall. There was sort of a grassy field here, or used to be. The ground was marred and bruised by having large equipment rolled over it, as well as the stomp marks of marching Hammerite troops. There had been a short downpour this morning, so the ground was wet, and every depression made a puddle, and thus mud. My boots were covered with the stuff. I hated mud. The sun was high, which was natural, seeing as it was noon. The sun was also hot, also natural seeing as it was summer. The sun's hot rays hit the wet ground. The natural thing happened. There was steam, and plenty of it. I hated steam even more then I hated mud. I did not enjoy anything dirty, and sticky, and slimy.

 

Taking my mind off the state of the environment, I cast my eyes across the task force. Closest to me was a sort of platform, newly constructed, where several Hammerite priests were standing and sitting. After that, there was a mass of Hammerite troops, some standing in ranks, others marching. Closest to the forest were four large machines, the nature of which I couldn’t make out from this distance, with Hammerite workers all over them. I made my way closer, and observed as I went.

 

The platform was raised five feet above the ground, and spanned about fifty feet square. There was a simple railing built along the edge, opening where there was a stairway to the ground. Where there were no stairs, various banners were hung, forming a sort of wall enclosing the area beneath the platform. I could see the sap in the wood of the platform’s legs, still bleeding from the freshly made ax cuts. I saw the High Priest standing on the platform, facing away from me, along with five other Hammerite priests. The five were sitting around a table, with a large map laid out upon it. It was above my eye level, but I could see the edges draped over the sides of the table, and it was a map all right. They seemed to be charting a course of least resistance through the woods, to the lodge, a good ten miles away. That would be quite a long walk by any standards. I imagined that those machines would slow it down quite a bit as well.

 

I just paused and watched the High priest for a moment. I was at the platform, and he hadn’t seen me yet. None of them had. He looked even more pompous and arrogant then the Baron, though quite a bit more physically fit. He was tapping his foot impatiently, overseeing the preparations. I cast my gaze to the marching soldiers. They made no indication that they had seen me either, though even if they had, I didn’t think they would show it. It’s called discipline. There were quite a number of them, at least seventy troops and officers. They marched about, ripping the underfoot grass as they went to and fro in those cute Hammerite formations of theirs. My observations were cut short by a voice from the platform.

 

I looked up to see the High Priest talking to Thurm, who had risen from the table. "Brother Thurm, Nightfall has arrived, late as expected. Thou shalt now spearhead this effort, while I return to the Cathedral, to tend to more pressing matters. Nightfall shall be thy second in command, just as thou hast been to me."

 

"In the Builders name, I do as thee command of me, High Priest." Brother Thurm bowed to him as he said this, and then bowed to me. I nodded a quick bow back to him, and then casually walked to the platform, and up the stairs, taking care to knock as much mud off my soles as possible. As I reached the top, the High Priest suddenly turned around, still not having so much as glanced at me, and walked down the stair on the other side of the platform.

 

I approached Brother Thurm. "Is there something troubling the High Priest?" I was simply curious as to what he would say. I knew exactly what was eating at the man. I was.

 

"I know not," he said, "I trust that it is the task at hand which troubles him. Many of us fear that there is far more at work here then simply a lone pagan."

 

I nodded, truly sharing the concern. Brother Thurm didn’t know the half of it. I had worked with Thurm before. Here was a man I could actually respect. His loyalty to the order and the Master Builder were, while misplaced, admirable. His passion for knowledge and science were undeniable. He was the only Hammerite priest I had ever seen truly jubilant about his work. Most are so cold and indifferent, but Thurm took joy in his tasks, and I liked that about him. His post as commander of this operation was clear. He had designed the four machines sitting between the platform and the wood’s edge!

 

"Brother Thurm, what is the nature of these, machines," I said, with sincere curiosity, for I had not yet gotten a chance to examine them.

 

He smiled broadly. "Ah, well. These two, which thee sees closest to us, are designed to demolish unwanted structures. This is indeed old technology, however, in the past there have been much larger machines built on site, and then dismantled when the job is finished. These new versions are completely mobile. They are smaller, and less powerful, but the time saved by not having to construct them makes up for the loss!" I looked with wonder at the massive twenty foot tall machine. It was mounted on a rotating platform, with eight large wheels underneath. On each side there was an arm -- four of them, and at the end of each arm was a device of destruction: a claw, a wrecking ball, a battering ram, and a massive drill. To one side of the machine was a larger version of the steam powered locomotive which I rode in the other day. Both machines were crawling with Hammerite workers, as they prepared it for transport.

 

"Thurm, how are you going to get these machines to the lodge?"

 

He smiled, delighted I asked. "Why, the road, of course!"

 

"Road?"

 

"Yes! We are building one."

 

If he had grinned any wider his eyes would have fallen out. Well, maybe not, but something weird would have happened. My response consisted of both an extremely fake look of surprise, and delight.

 

"Those two machines up by the forest are specifically designed for clearing land!" He pointed proudly. The two he was referring to appeared to be quite similar to the machines that were towing the demolition equipment. The only difference was a large plate affixed to the front of the machine. This plate had two surfaces which met at a sharp angle in the center. It was obvious how it worked. The machine moved forward, and every tree that was hit by the plate was thrust to either side and down, to its death. It was sad, really. There was a time when a man needed to sweat in order to defeat a tree. Now all he had to do was pull levers and sit and watch.

 

I quickly shook that mindset away. The last thing I needed to be was a woodsie sympathizer. "Amazing," I said to Thurm, with only slightly more then a shred of sincerity.

 

"Yes, they are quite an accomplishment." I could tell he was bubbling with pride. "And to think, three months ago none of this was possible! Why, by this time next year, THINK of what will be accomplished!" He put his hand on my shoulder. "Nightfall, I believe a new age is upon us. I can feel it. A new age of prosperity for our Order. An age of invention, of discovery. A…a… a METAL age!" He looked back at his mechanical creations and made several loud grunting noises, then crossed his arms across his chest and nodded proudly. I just looked at him, trying to smile. "By this time, three days from now, we shall be at the lodge." He looked back at me. "There you shall see these creatures of metal doing what the Master Builder guided me to create them to do!"

 

I don’t know why I felt so grim. This, after all, is what I intended. If it was simply a lone pagan, then the Hammerites would get their example, and Jyre her vengeance. If it was truly as bad as James and I feared, then we would need the Hammerites to fight this "Lady". There was little doubt in my mind that not much could defeat a Hammerite army of this magnitude. More troops were planned to follow, and arrive at the scene just as the equipment did. Then all would pounce on the building, and not rest until every stone was turned to dust, and every beam splintered. It was a well planned operation that would be executed with extreme proficiency. This was a win-win situation. I had to keep telling myself that. I kept my fingers crossed nevertheless.

 

And still I worried about Jyre and Lytha.

 

 

- Ghost: Study Hall - Day 4: 1:00pm

 

Well here I was, the Hammerite Library. I knew they wouldn't just let me in to peruse their blueprints or old documents, so I entered by way of the service entrance, also known as the second floor window. Luckily this place wasn't busy, so getting around was pretty easy. It's good advice to take advantage of things while they are easy. Sadly, I had no idea how this library was laid out. All I managed to dig up were some old maps of the mines before they rebuilt the prison and some notes on construction, which didn't tell me a whole lot. So I got out with my maps and went to spy on the area around the prison to see if I could find anything good.

 


Chapter 6 - Following in the Footsteps of a Legend

 

- Ghost: Casing the Joint - Day 4: 3:00pm

 

"Okay, the front door seems out of the question, as usual," I told myself as I noted the small army of Hammers standing around. I made the trip down to Cragscleft in order to scope the place out, and see what needed to be brought along on this heist. They now used the old mine opening as the entrance to the rebuilt jail. This meant two things to me. First, the Hammerite barracks were by the front door, to stop massive escapes, and so, in case of emergencies, they could all get out easily. Secondly, I would need a lot of help to get in or out that way. I pinpointed my location on the maps I brought.

 

I went a little higher up the hill and spotted something interesting. It was a small opening. It was maybe three feet wide, filled with a fan spinning away, pulling fresh air into the deeper part of the complex. After I noticed that one, I noted several more all along the side of the cliff. I presumed that those brought air to different parts of the prison. I wouldn't be able to bring a lot of gear with me since the hole was so small, but at least I could personally fit. At best, I could dragged a small bag of toys with me, but a bow or sword were out of the question. Those vents were to be my way in. I hoped they didn't lead to the dining room or something. As soon as I got in, it would only be a matter of finding my fence and Nightfall's chick. Piece of cake. "Time to go shopping!" I rolled up my maps and jogged back to town.

 

 

- Lytha: Break the Will - Day 4: 6:00pm

 

He sighed, once again.

 

"I do not want to do this, but you were really not very cooperative."

 

I lay on the floor, face down. I had lost conscious once or twice. I don't remember. My back was numb now. I could smell my own blood.

 

I heard the footsteps of the guards behind me. They came closer, and I felt their hands at my arms. They brought me back on my feet.

"You have broken the rule of cooperation, Lytha. Personally, I hate the thought of what we will do to you now, but the laws instruct me to break first the body, then the mind. I wish you a good night, though."

 

They dragged me back into the cell blocks. I found myself in the opposite cell from where I awoke earlier. Laying on my back, I heard the locking of the door, and the leaving footsteps of the guards.

 

I blinked into the dim light. I made a figure out in the corner of the cell. It was that tall man who I had noticed earlier. I saw him grin, and behind his lips was the largest set of yellow teeth I had ever seen. He stared at me with this horrible grin. I shrunk back. I knew and I feared what he was going to do. My hands and feet were still in chains, no chance in a fight. He rose to his feet, and stepped closer, without a single word. I had my back at the door, could not back any further. He was so close that I could smell his breath in my face. I could simply stare at him, at his teeth.

 

In a sudden movement, he reached out and pushed me on the floor. Struggling to come free, I tried to kick him. But he was already over me. With his entire weight, he pressed me down to the floor, grabbing my hair with the left, pulling my head back. I felt the cold stone at my cheek. And then the pain, when he bit and hit me. I felt helpless. So absolutely helpless. I could not even scratch him, or wind myself out off his hold, with my hands in chains. He pressed me down, he torn my clothes, and I could not even cry. Trying to repress everything, I formed a fist with my hand, so strong that it hurt. And then my head seemed to explode. He had started to hit it down to the floor. All went black, again. The last feeling was the sharp pain when he -

 

 

- Ghost: Shipping… And Receiving - Day 4: 6:00pm

 

"Wakey wakey!" I shouted as I banged on the door. Quenton rubbed his eyes as he opened the door.  I continued, "How in the hell can you still be sleeping? It's almost dark out!" I let myself in.

 

He looked confused but grumbled something about working late and playing cards all night.

 

"I need some gear, and you're the only one I could think of who can get a few things I need in short notice, even though your prices are way too high."

 

"What ya need this time?" he asked, looking a little scared at what the answer might be.

 

"I need some gas mines, a few flash bombs, a pair of those boots with the secret compartment in the heels, the smallest lock picks you can find and a jar of that paste I used that time...and anything else you can think I need for a suicide mission."

 

He had a stunned look on his face but knew better than to ask what I was up to. Instead he staggered into the back room and emerged a moment later with a small box and a pair of boots. He threw the boots at me and said "Try them on." He opened the box and pulled out a small bottle and set it on the table. "That's yer glue, you 'member how ta use it?" He set out a small pouch of tools, grinning stupidly and giving off a chuckle, because those definitely were the smallest ones I'd ever seen. "How soon do ya need the mines and flashers?"

 

"Yes I know how to use the glue, and I need the gear now, or as close to now as you can get, no later than tomorrow morning, I'm in a little bit of a rush." Quenton winced visibly and said exactly what I knew he would -- "I can get 'em in a couple hours...but it's gonna cost ya."

 

"So typical," I answered, but I needed the stuff now. "Fine, whatever, just deliver them to me as soon as you get your hands on them, cash on delivery. I'll be taking this other stuff now as a deposit to keep you from forgetting." Grabbing my stuff I headed for the door without another word.

 

 

- Jyre: Betrayed - Day 4: 6:00pm

 

I could feel its presence behind me as I fled through the door and down the desolate street. Its groans were a constant echo in my ears. I didn't know where I ran and I couldn't see where I was going. All I knew was that I had to get away! My foot caught on a crack in the stone walkway and I slammed into the ground with a thud. The wind was blasted from my lungs and I could feel blood on my palms where they had ripped open. I glanced over my shoulder as I scrambled to my feet and saw the sickening mockery of life that chased me, shambling closer. Even as I watched, a chunk of its rotting flesh fell from its body. I turned and ran again, plunging thoughtlessly into the nearest shadow. I ran straight into something solid and bounced back off. A second zombie now towered above me, its arms reaching for my throat. I scrambled quickly away, barely holding my feet, and darted into the ruins of a house across the street. Its walls were crumbled and in some places gone completely. But I wasn't overly concerned with that just at that moment. I looked up and saw the second floor.

 

Quickly I gaze around and found the half-collapsed staircase. I just hoped it would take my weight. The first few steps were gone completely so I had to scramble up. The wood moaned beneath my weight and I felt it bend. The groans of the zombies had reached the door. The first one stepped through just as I pulled myself onto the highest step. Seeing the state of the upper floor I began to sob. At least half the planks had rotted away completely to leave the thin plaster beneath. There were no walls and whatever other rooms had once been there were gone. I expected to feel the zombies' cold touch any second and waited, breath held. When I finally built up the courage to look down I found them milling about in confusion. Not once did they look up. I brought my fear back under control, wiped me eyes and crawled into a dark corner to wait for their moans to fade away.

 

I must have fallen asleep, for when I next looked at the sky the moon was well past its zenith. For one horrible second I almost believed in the Builder. Then I shook my head at my own foolishness. It was luck, nothing more. I dug into my pocket and pulled out an apple, which I began to munch. Then I took out my supply of paper and charcoal, which I had kept in my belt pocket, and crawled over to a lighter spot. My apple finished, I lifted my stick and began to record the days events.

 

Master Nightfall,

 

This to you I do write from the city of haunts. Forgive the badly shaping of my words but my hands do shake much from my small times here. It is bad. Very bad. Never should I have come here. The one of which I told, Ramirez, I fear he hath tricked me. To me he did tell that the haunts they do be much less now but when I does the wall climb I find many, many such dead. Back then I should have turned. Els, he did be right. Adventure it was I sought and so to continue I did. I sneaked and I crept and the shadows I did hug but nowhere did I see signs of where I be. I knew only that cathedral's rear did to the front of me be. Compass I use not but follow instead my feelings. The moans and the groans all around me they be'd and shiver my spine and chill my blood it did. And from the many doors to my ears did come the voices of many a dead one. In every bone I felt their pain and in every breath I feared it. So distracted did I be that see I not the zombie til almost I stood upon it. In my pack I did reach and turn my eyes did I. The flashbomb I did throw but came there no shriek. I look and there it be sitting much unchanged in the dirt. It was dud. Fake. The zombie groaned. I did me panic and run.

 

Away from it I did get and much relief I felt. I sat me in shadow and my pack unslung. From it did I take a flashbomb and xamin it I did. The trigger that the bang does make was gone! I took another and found the same. Zombie then did me surprise and the pack I did drop. I run again, much and long til this place of safeness did I reach. And now I do this letter pen, though fear I that reach you it never will. Still, it does me distract from the horrible groans that do me surround. More I will record later, if I do survive.

 

Your servant,

 

Jyre.

 

 

- Nightfall: An Unscheduled Rendezvous - Day 4: 9:00pm

 

In spite of Thurm's protests, I made it clear that I would rather sleep at home, and have to take the trip to and fro each day, than sleep with him in the command tent. That is what I was doing right now -- going home. It was late. My pocketwatch told me ten-thirty. No rest for the weary, however, for I spotted a sign that a drop box had a message for me. Sighing, I investigated. I found the letter posing as a piece of debris by the roadside. I picked it up, and, having nothing better to do, read it. It was from Sheam of all people.

 

Daneel,

 

I was helping Els pick out his equipment, as you asked, when he demanded that I let him go home to get something. I offered to go with him. He refused. I told him that I needed to get him some health potions first. He said that he hates the stuff, and never drinks it. I told him that he was in no condition to run across town and back to get only one item! He wouldn’t even tell me what the item was! I told him that I’d send a servant after it. He refused, and told me that no one should follow him when he went. I told him to at least get some equipment before he went, and he refused again! He left, and I was unable to stop him. I tried to follow him, but he lost me. I’m sorry Daneel, I haven’t seen or heard from him since.

 

Sheam

 

This was just lovely. Hopefully Els would show back up, and not try and save Jyre in his current condition. I had to force myself to not be concerned. As much as I cared about what happened to those two, they were not the top priority. This was about more then just helping Jyre get her revenge. This "lady" posed a threat to The City. I was weary, and didn’t want to think of it any longer. I wanted the day to end. One more thing had to happen though.

 

It happened when I was about halfway home. I was in a rather nondescript area of The City, not far from Lord Bafford’s manor, in fact. Suddenly I felt someone walking next to me. I glanced. I saw nothing. I kept on my way, sure that I had an unseen companion. I walked to a secluded corner, and there I stopped.

 

"You would be wise to heed thy past errors." I heard a voice say.

 

I knew it. It was a Keeper. Slowly I turned to face the man, asking "Why do you say that?"

 

The man in a black robe stepped out to where I could see him. "Many forces are at work here, but they all lead to one. Choose one path, not all, and follow it, and the key shall be apparent. If you walk too many paths, you doom yourself to hardship."

 

 

- Lytha: A Voice in the Dark - Day 4: 11:00pm

 

They had brought me back into the other cell.

 

I stared at the light, at its flickering. I could feel the blood running where he had bitten me. I was sore and bleeding. My back was numb. My clothes were torn. And I felt humiliated and hurt and helpless and alone.

 

"Lytha," someone spoke to me with the voice of my dead sister. The voice seemed to come from behind. It spoke very quietly, but sounded also very urgent. But I knew that there was only the stone wall, and that no one could be there. I ignored the voice.

 

The light went on, and off, and on, and off.

 

 

- Ghost: Undercover in Cragscleft - Day 5: 4:00am

 

A sharp knock on my door woke me from my nap. It was still dark outside. That was a good thing. Otherwise it would have had to of been a late night raid. I peeked out of the doorway to my home. I saw a bag sitting in front of my door, with no one in sight. I cracked open the door and flipped the bag open to see a few small boxes and more little bags. I grabbed it and left a bag of coins in the same spot for the messenger to take when I'm gone. I finished packing up what little I could bring with me. I threw on the boots I bought, with the worlds smallest picks in the left boot (I hope I can even use the things). I slung my pack over my shoulder and headed off for Cragscleft, expecting to make it there before the sun came up.

 

The prison loomed ahead of me. Just before sunrise it seemed almost serene, with only a handful of guards at the front gate and typical prison sounds. I probably should have thought more about a late night entrance through the front door. Even if I had, though, attracting the attention of only one guard would still have proven a bit difficult. The birds started chirping. I took that as my cue to head up to find a vent to make my way in.

 

Finally I was in an area which wasn’t swarming with Hammerites looking for someone to grab. I made my way to the point where the rocky slope turns into a rock wall. I hoped I could get up to the vent without killing myself or getting spotted. I went down to a spot far away from the front door, where the noise from a fan suddenly stopping wouldn't be heard. I tied a short rope from my pack to my waist, so I could pull the pack up with me. With a running start I jumped and managed to grab the edge of the hole. I pulled myself up into the small crawl space. The fan was blocked by a small grating which easily popped away with a crowbar. This was the part that worried me. Did they have the fans on some kind of alarm if they stopped working? Even if not, would this make a ton of noise when I stopped it? I thought of jamming the crowbar into the blades to stop them long enough to clip the belt driving it, but I decided a big rock would work better. I jumped down to get one. A hauled up a nice big rock inside my pack. Back up to the fan, I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers. I slammed the rock into the blades of the fan, praying that the Builder was still sleeping.

 

CLANG!

 

"Oh my god they had to have heard that!" I wasn't sure if I screamed that out loud, or just in my head. It was hard to tell with my ears ringing like they were. Regaining some composure, I cut the belt driving the fan and proceeded to remove the blade section so I could get past it before the alarm sounded or the guards came running. I hadn't seen a Hammerite guard pop his head into this hole yet. Filled with paranoia, I carefully peered out, saw no one, and realized that they must not have heard it. I was confused and deaf, but happy. I tossed the rock out of the hole behind me, and set the blade by the edge of the hole. I also tied a thin rope to the grating so I could find my way back out this way if I had to.

 

I took what could be my last look at the free world, through the small opening in the side of the hill. I started my (hopefully) short climb into the hell these prisoners had to deal with. If I could manage it, I'd break them all out just to let the Hammers know who was really in charge here.

 

Air shafts all looked the same in the dark. Thank goodness for the thin white rope I trailed behind myself. After several minutes of sliding through the airways I was not even sure which way was up anymore. My muscles already hurt from trying to move slowly and quietly and trying to not drop the 10 feet to the next shaft intersection. Luckily for me, the Hammers were nice enough to add hand holds along some of the tunnels. I guess this was in case they had to repair the cables that bring power to the vent fans. Or maybe they had people chisel these tunnels by hand. They seemed too irregular for that, though.

 

Suddenly, after climbing for what seemed like hours, a faint light came into view to my left. I shuffled along the tunnel in my quietest shuffling fashion until I could peek out through the vent into the room below. "Hmm, no happy whistling guards or groups of Hammers waiting to kill me."

 

The vent popped off easily. I tied my rope to the corner of the grate so I could find my pack and my way out later. If I didn't come back for it they probably wouldn't find it for a while. I wasn't leaving much here anyway. I dropped down into the room, unpacked some things from my pack, threw it back into the shaft. Finally I replaced the vent cover.

 

The room looked like an average living space. It probably belonged to someone just above a guard, but no one really special. I cracked the door open. Peering out, I saw something I really hated seeing on a job like this: a nice, well-lit, hallway. "Oh man, these people are lame! Why couldn't this be a normal dismally lit prison?" The first thing I needed to do was figure out where I was. Then I needed to know where I needed to be. Finally I had to figure out how to turn off some of these lights, so I didn't get killed along the way. "Hmmm," what a thought, "maybe I don't need to turn out the lights.." I stepped back into the bedroom and rummaged through the closet for a uniform, hoping this guy was my size. A nice red uniform hung there. It was just a little too big. That was actually a good thing, since I was going to wear it over my own stuff. My boots, which I had to keep, were a little different from his, but I didn't plan to let anyone check me out that closely. I didn't look anything like the Hammerite I'd seen walking the streets. I decided that was just because this type of Hammerite didn't usually take strolls about town.

 

Feeling somewhat confident with my new attire, I stepped through the door into the world of the Hammerites. (I hoped they didn’t mind my grizzled unshaven face, rather then that silly goatee they usually have.) The hallway to the right seemed unpopulated, so that's the way I went. I needed to find a stairway or elevator, so I could find a sign that told what floor I was on. I had to get to the fourth level, the maximum-security area, to find Lytha. I also needed to find where they were holding Ragbert. If all else failed, I could get Lytha out and then come back for him, since I had a decent way to get in, or so it seemed. I had to get both of them out eventually, but right now Lytha was the one I was making money from.

 

I was nudged from my thoughts by the sound of someone walking towards me. I quickly slowed down. I was just standing right outside of the hall intersection. A sleepy guard walked by, yawning as he went. When he turned to glance at me he started grinning stupidly. "Just keep walking; he was obviously a freak." He finally shook away his giggles and went on his way. I tried to convince myself that the problem was with the guard, but something in the back of my head was nagging me. I tried to keep my "holier than thou" attitude going. At least he didn't ring the alarm or scream something. Rounding the corner I noticed a gated hallway to the left and an elevator to the right. There wasn't much straight ahead. I went to the elevator to see what floor I was on, and maybe get to where I needed to be. I pushed the button and waited for the lift to come down. Much to my dismay it was packed with a bunch of guards mumbling about breakfast. I noticed a few stares and a remark or two about my clothing as they unloaded and walked past me.

 

Now the paranoia really kicked in. I checked myself to make sure my pants weren't on backwards or something. I couldn’t find anything wrong with me! Well, aside from the fact that my uniform was rather unique. But what do I know about Hammerites? At least I hadn't been busted yet, so I was reasonably happy. I boarded the lift. Once inside, I found that there was good news, and bad news. The good news was that I was close. Two floors up was the maximum-security section. The bad news was this elevator didn't go to that floor. "Great, now I have to go through some checkpoint or something. Lets go up a floor and see what’s happening." I muttered under my breath.

Strangely, the next floor looked very different from the other. It was darker here, with only two guards in sight near an intersection.

 

Swallowing my fears, I approached the guards and nodded to each as I stepped up. Oddly, they didn't seem to care much whether I was here or not. I figured that the Hammerite disguise was working after all. I turned confidently to the right to create the illusion that I knew where I was going. After a turning few corners it became obvious that this was one of the prisoner areas. I saw a sign which read Cell Block 5. "I wonder… where do they keep the admittance records?"

 

"Can I help thee sir," the guard on watch asked me.

 

"What?" Where did he come from?

 

"You asked about the admittance records?"

 

"No, I'm looking for a prisoner." What the hell was I thinking? I'm going to get killed for this. "Yes, maybe you can; where do you keep your records in this block?"

 

"Follow me sir," was all he replied. Why did he keep calling me sir? This didn't look like any high priest uniform I had ever seen. It had to be something different. I wasn't going to ask this guy what I'm supposed to be dressed as, though. I followed him to a guard room, which he opened with a key. Inside he showed me the book listing who was kept in this area.

 

"I thank thee for thy help, guard." I always hated the way Hammers talked but I had to be convincing if this was going to work. I flipped through the book looking for familiar names. I noted a fellow thief or two who had been caught. I went through the entire list, but there was no Lytha or Ragbert listed. This must not have been a complete book.

 

"Where is the prison registry which shows the new arrivals?" I took a stab in the dark. Maybe he was dumb enough to tell me, thinking I was from out of town or something. He turned to look at me, without saying a word.

 

I knew he was having doubts that I should be here. Finally he turned away from me to leave, and answered, "Where they always are, sir, in the Inquisitors chambers." His mistake was turning away from me. I slid the blackjack out from under my shirt and thumped him over the head with it. He slumped to the ground in a heap.

 

"We can't be having ‘thee’ think I don't belong here, now, can we? Have a nice nap, hope you don't get fired for sleeping on the job." I grabbed his keys, checked the log book for an empty cell. I found one, and dropped him in it. I cut off his shirt and gagged him with a strip of cloth so he wouldn't make too much noise when he woke up.

 

Now I knew there were at least four other cellblocks on this floor alone. There could have been twenty or more in this place, though. This floor didn't matter for now anyway. I had to get up one level to find Lytha. I searched around quietly while looking for a stairway. All I could hear were the moans of prisoners and their cries for help. I didn’t see any more guards around but, then again I didn't see that first one who snuck up on me either. I also didn’t see a way out, so I headed back to the intersection where the two guards were probably waiting to grab me. This time I passed them without even looking at them, and headed to the opposite area. I noticed a sign on the wall that I obviously missed earlier.

 

Cell Block 3 & 4 - Left. Cell Block 5 - Right. Maximum Security, Straight Ahead.

 

I couldn't believe I missed that sign earlier. Must have been too worried about being caught. I still needed to go check 3 and 4 for Ragbert, and maybe find a way out.

 

The entrance was actually leading into cell block 4, but across the floor I could see the door leading to 3. There was a guard by the door to the next block, and one standing inside the office overlooking the entire block. I saw a staircase leading up to behind the guard. I went that way. With a purpose to my walk and a serious look on my face, I planned to walk right into the office and look through the book. I could see now why these Hammerites thought they owned the place. It must have been the clothes. Approaching the door I pulled out the set of keys. I knocked on the door before unlocking and opening it. The guard looked me over casually, not noticing much in the dim light. "I need to check your log book," I told him. I proceeded to flip through the pages of the book. "Ah ha," I mumbled quietly as I saw Ragbert's name in the roster. I felt great that I had found one of my objectives. That is, until I read the line next to his name. He died on the rack while being questioned. "Oh damn!" I cursed, among other things, as I spun around to face the guard. "Where are the Inquisitor’s notes? I have to know what this man told him!"

 

Confused, the guard's only answer was a stuttering which told me it should be upstairs in the high security area. Someone was going to pay for torturing Ragbert to death, and I knew who it was going to be. "Stay here until I come back to talk with you!" I shouted at the man. I grabbed his keys and the log book and stormed out the door while he stood looking baffled at my anger. Once I was alone I took the key-ring and stashed it in the compartment in the heal of my boot. I didn't need them anymore, and they should be safe there, in case I did. I tried to calm down so I didn't alert the guards at the intersection. A lot of thoughts ran through me. The biggest thought on my mind was the fear that Ragbert had mentioned me to the Inquisitor while being tortured. If that was the case, then I’d have to ask Nightfall to NOT spread my name around. Trustworthy fence or no, I couldn't risk one of them deciding that my bounty was worth more then my skills. I would have to find a new alias, and build a new reputation. I didn’t look forward to that. I also didn't care to end up as a resident here.

 

I could feel the guards watching me as I rounded the corner to get to the stairway. I think they said something to me but I wasn't in the mood to deal with them at the moment. I went around a few more corners until I reached the stairway up to the next floor. Two more guards waited at the bottom of the stairs, both wearing heavy chain armor. I walked to pass them, but they both held out a hand to stop me.

"State thy business," one of them said.

 

"I need to speak to the Inquisitor about a man who died here."

 

"The Grand Inquisitor is busy at the moment, he can not see thee."

 

"I'll wait!" was my answer. After a moment's pause I lunged past the blockade. Obviously they didn't understand my urgency, since one of them grabbed my upper arm and stopped me in my tracks. I spun and pulled the dagger from under my tunic. It found its mark in the unarmored part of his body. He dropped quickly to the ground uselessly grasping his neck, trying to stop the bleeding that would soon kill him. Before I could deal with the other guard everything went black, just after I felt something heavy hit me.

 

 

- Lytha: The Interrogation Continues - Day 5: 9:00am

 

The Inquisitor gave me a sympathetic look.

 

"As I told you yesterday, our rules are easy. And you broke the rule of cooperation. I had no choice. But you must understand that it was your own fault, Lytha."

 

I lay on the floor, once again.

 

"What we are working on now, is your confession about the two events we have witnesses for. What did you do in the lodge, and what did you do in our Temple?"

 

I lay motionless on the floor, saying no word. I was filled with numbness.

 

"The problem is that the confession is needed urgently. So... You have the choice how we shall get it. We can ask friendly, or -- "

A lash from behind, again. I felt the blood running over my back. Must have opened old sores, I thought.

 

He stepped closer, and sat down beside me. "You do not have to go through all of this. Just look at the instruments in this room. They will open your mouth, trust me. But do you really want to learn this from your own experience? All you have to do is give me the confession about the two events."

 

I closed my eyes. I wanted the end of this, but I had not the strength to start speaking. All was numb. Nothing did matter anymore.

He sighed, and nodded to the two guards.

 

 

- Jyre: Hauntings - Day 5: 9:00am

 

Dark and silent. I saw nothing beyond the heavy black veil of night, heard nothing through the thick air that surrounded me. I was alone in an empty world without a single ear to hear me scream.

 

A gust of wind, like a heavy sigh.  A spot of gray in the distance.  My eyes fixed on it and drew it in. My heart thudded in fear of what I would find.

 

"How many times, Jyre?" Els's voice. It filled the void with echoes. "The Lady knows best. It is not your place to question."

 

"Not your place...not your place..." The words rebounded inside my head, taking on the voice of the dead. That which had been black was now gray. I could see figures in the mist. One of them turned to me, pointing. "Foolish child...." He started to cackle.

 

I was in the dining hall, standing before Els. Guards filled the room, their eyes focused on me and their voices filled with laughter. Els seemed to grow in front of me. His skin became gray and lifeless. His eyes held the same glazed expression that adorned the living dead. "You should have listened to me." His words filled the whole room, blocking out the laughter. "But no. You had to ask, didn't you? You had to know!" The laughter came back, harsh and overpowering. I dropped to my knees, clamped my hands over my ears. The taunting refused to go away.

 

Hands grasped mine, pulled them from my head. "Hush." My face was pushed into something soft. "Ranson's here. He won't let them get you." I wept into his chest, shivering. He lifted a hand to my chin and slowly raised my head. "Just be a good girl like The Lady says."

He began to change. His face became softer, his eyes harsher. The fingers that cupped my chin began to squeeze. "You were coming along so well, child," -- The Lady's voice. "If only you had learnt your place." She shook her head. Her fingers burnt my flesh. "Such a bright girl. So much potential. Ranson did well bringing you to me. If only you had learnt your place..."

 

Guilt tore at me. I looked up at her. Begged her forgiveness. Her voice joined the laughter. "No child. You do not mean what you say." She gave me a push and I was falling.

 

I landed in something soft. The stink of rotten flesh met my nostrils. Looking up I could just make out The Lady's form, staring down at me. I shuddered, rolled over and let out a scream.

 

His eyes were shrunken hollows, his hair nothing more than a few brittle tufts. His skin was gray and dry, drawn so tightly over his bones that I could see the skull underneath. I was staring at the face of a dead man.

 

"See your fate," The Lady called down to me. "And learn its face well. For soon it will come to collect you."

 


Chapter 7 - Tests of Fortitude

 

- Nightfall: Personal Log, 9.11 - Day 5: 12:00pm

 

"Yesterday was quite a day.  After we got underway, the Hammerite task force made about three miles progress, working from midday, to midnight.  The weather was fair, though quite hot and damp, and the forest was mostly submissive.  They let me travel home for the night, thankfully, and while on my way, I met with a Keeper.

 

"He told me I was following too many paths, or something like that.  He also told me it was dangerous.  I’m sure he meant how I have come to be known not only as the Emissary to the Master Builder, but also as the Patron Saint of Thieves.  If the givers of the former title discovered the latter designation, there would be hell to pay.  Oh well, I had kept it under wraps for quite some time now, and I didn’t foresee myself getting careless any time soon.  Still, if one of the Keepers made himself known to me, it must have been for a good reason, other than to state the blindingly obvious.   I’d find out soon enough, I suppose.

 

"This morning, I decided it was about time to buy that carriage I had been putting off getting, and hire a chauffeur.  It was a good five mile walk from my tower, clear across town to the city’s edge, and then three more through the mud and torn dirt of the newly constructed road to where the task force was making its way to the lodge.  I cared not to go it by foot.  Besides, I had needed a vehicle, and now was as good as time as any to buy one.

 

"Okay, I lied.  I didn’t buy one -- I bought two.  Hey, sue me, I wanted a rugged one that would be able to navigate off-road terrain, and a stately one for leisurely trips around town.  Wealth has its privileges, after all.  The luxury stagecoach is being custom built, so I won’t have it for at least a week.  It will seat four, comfortably, and six if absolutely necessary.  Designed to be pulled by four horses -- plenty of room inside -- leather interior (brick red!), aged dark cherry-wood exterior with a cast iron frame (painted black wherever it shows) -- bronze trim *very nice* -- room for luggage -- I could go on and on.  The rugged one: it’s small, about a fourth of the size of the other.  Just seats, two, driver & passenger.  Just a carriage basically.  Open to the air, but has a sort of awning that can be erected in case you want to travel when it’s raining, or when the sun gets too hot.  It’s pulled by one horse.  Built light -- all pine.  Painted black, of course.  Large wheels -- two axle -- high clearance, low center of gravity.  Small compartment in the back for cargo, which can be converted to a third seat in a pinch.  Well designed – sporty -- I like it.

 

"Of course what’s a carriage without a driver?  I hired Richen -- smart guy, good etiquette.  Best getaway driver this side of the forbidden zone -- never been caught too, or even identified -- that’s why I can use him in the presence of the Hammers.  This guy makes an art out of getting to point A to point B the fastest way possible, while avoiding all authority.  Which is good, for I don’t care to have my chauffeur whipped in the street for speeding.  He also makes the tightest fastest turns I’ve ever experienced, or seen, without the vehicle turning over!  The horse was good too, very good.  Thoroughbred, black, young, with one white sock on the left rear leg.  I let Richen pick her out, seeing as he would be the driver.  Good size, about nine hands.  I haven’t bought horses for the stagecoach yet.  I’ll probably get Clydesdales or something. 

 

"It took us about a half an hour to make it to the task force, as they worked diligently in the woods.  None the sooner too, for Thurm was getting ready to send a squad after me.  Hrumph, does he just love my company, or does he not trust me?  It’s not my fault that shopping for a vehicle is a lengthy process!  I did it faster then most -- two hours -- and I bought two!  I should get some kind of award!  I admit, being four hours late to an engagement is rather sloppy, but they didn’t really need me there at all.  I, unlike they, do not enjoy watching the pistons on those bulldozers, as we have come to nickname them, go up and down, up and down.  It gets mesmerizing after the first five hours.

 

"Then came the fun part.  You see, Hammers are not too keen on animals.  Not even domesticated animals.  It was hard enough for them to grasp the concepts of domesticating plants, but animals, whew, those critter have a mind of their own!  And a horse, they particularly dislike.  I once heard one of them say, ‘if a normal human’s intelligence was ground level, a horse’s would be a pit, ten miles deep.’  Not that I disagree with them, (I laughed quite a bit when he said that), but still; the critter is useful. Why walk when you can have a dumb beast pull you?  Ah well, to each his own.  If they want to rely on their own two legs, or one of those machines, then, may the Builder bless them.  I’m sticking to what works.  Anyway, getting back to the subject, they let me ride in my horse drawn carriage, but I had to stay to the far rear of the group, and keep that beast, as they insisted on calling it, away from them.  I thought it was very funny when the captain said, in all seriousness, that if the horse so much as looked one of his men in the eye, he would have it beat to death.  How’s THAT for fear of animals!  Well, Richen was none too keen on these redcoats (as he called them), threatening his Suzy (that’s what he named the horse), but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut, and his eyes downcast. 

 

"Of course, staying about a hundred yards behind the task force has its advantages.  For instance, Richen and I could talk in peace.  We had plenty of time to do it in too.  Thankfully the canopy of the trees provided shade for most of the day, or I would have been miserable.  Anyway…

 

"We talked about plenty of things.  He was eager to discuss one thing in particular, his garage and stable at my tower.  Simply put, there is no room to build one! We eventually sorted out that they can be carved out of the side of the hill, below the mansion.  It would be about halfway between the structure and the base of the hill.  A ramp would lead from it to the main road, and part of the stairway would branch off too meet the ramp.  It’s hard to describe, I’ll have to sketch it out.  The Hammers should really enjoy building that for me.  Cheaper then hiring a private contractor, and less stressful then contracting it myself.

 

“End Entry”

 

 

- Jyre:  A Poem - Day 5: 3:00pm

 

I was awakened by the heat of the sun striking my face. It brought me to my feet with a jolt. Silence. I waited in trepidation for the groans to continue, but they never came. I looked down the street in both directions, but could see nothing from my lofty position. I must have stood there silently for a good half hour, dreading that any second the undead would return to finish me. Nothing stirred except the dirt, swirled up by the gentle breeze. Finally satisfied that I was alone, I jumped down the broken stairs and moved out onto the street. The silence frightened me almost as much as the wailing voices had the night before. I found myself tiptoeing, breathing softly through my nose, so as to make as little noise as possible. The dead slept and I did not wish to wake them.

 

I kept to the middle of the dirt road, avoiding any shadows in the fear that they might contain one of the undead. When I came to the first junction I took a left. The houses along this street, as on all the other streets, were little more than ruins, although the occasional one still stood and looked intact, from the outside at least. I probably should've turned back and left right then, but something inside pulled me deeper into the haunted dereliction. I followed its pull like a blind man would his dog, never once questioning its source. It wasn't a new experience to me. I often felt this way when I sought something and, more often than not, my feelings led me straight to it.

 

I turned another corner and found myself staring up at the wall surrounding what had come to be termed the “Haunted Cathedral.”  Behind that stood the structure itself. The whole place seemed to be cast in shadow, which in turn cast a chill on the surrounding area. I kept as far from it as I could whilst following alongside the wall, hoping that I walked toward the cloister gates and not away from them.

 

The manor came into view before the gates did. It was HUGE. It was also derelict. It stood three stories high probably, with a fourth hidden in the rafters of the roof and at least one level beneath the ground as well. It was also in ruins. The front of the house and a side wall still stood, as did a small section of the roof but the rest was gone. I stopped dead in the middle of the path and stared at it in disbelief. I had risked my life for this! I had nearly died for a pile of rubble! I shook my head and cursed. There had to be more to it than this, surely? I ran to the heap of stones, clambered over them and looked up. Nothing but a rotten carcass! I kicked at the rubble beneath my feet in disgust, sighed and sat on the heap with an angry grunt, staring at my shredded palms. This whole thing had been a big mistake. A cold shadow fell over me as I sat there, drawing me out of my reverie. Looking up I found the sun slowly slipping away behind the Cathedral. Something howled inside its walls. Panicking, I leapt to my feet and started to run. The rubble gave way beneath me and I ended up sliding to its base on my backside. I felt the tears where the stone had opened my flesh, as I struggled to stand. Rolling onto my hands and knees I found myself staring at a ragged sheet of vellum. Despite the danger, I picked it up and read it aloud.

 

 

 When shadows grow,

 and danger walks,

 Come out, come out,

 Come play with me.

 

 When Trickster's thwarted,

 And hammers rise,

 Come down, come down,

 And join with me.

 

 In caverns deep,

 I make my bed,

 Where city sleeps,

 I lay my head.

 

When hammers fall,

and mortals quake,

Your voice from death,

Will me awake.

 

 

It meant nothing! A dumb rhyme. I screwed it up and shoved it into my trouser pocket, not even bothering to try and fathom its purpose. I hated poetry and I hated riddles even more! But still, I'd risked my life for this and I wasn't about to throw it away. I had just started walking again when the ground began to shake.

 

The dirt beneath me lurched. My left ankle twisted painfully and I fell to my knees. Before I could recover the ground lurched again and I was thrown forward. I crashed into the wall of the nearest building and felt my shoulder pop. For a second there was only blackness. My vision cleared and I found myself cast in shadow. I tried to stand but my left ankle refused to take my weight. My right arm dangled uselessly at my side. I swiveled around so my back was against the wall and used it to regain my feet. It wasn't until I was standing that I noticed the cause of the earth's sudden upheaval.

 

It stood before me, a towering monstrosity. Its skin was gray and crinkled, like old leather. Its whole body rippled with bulging muscle. And it had wings! Stretched out as they were, they blocked everything from sight. But it was the head that scared me the most. Two bulging eyes set in a continuously writhing mass, they seemed to swallow everything they beheld. I was beginning to wish I had never got back to my feet.

 

"Death comes, mortal."

 

I heard the words echo in my head and knew they had originated from the thing before me. It never spoke, though. In fact, it couldn't speak for it had no mouth! It took a step towards me. I ran. Straight between its legs and down a narrow passage between houses, my fear making me forget the pain in my injuries. I expected a roar of anger. Instead came what I can only describe as laughter. It was like a ripple in the very air around me that produced a deep, resonant boom that repeated itself over and over, pounding my ears until they hurt. I didn't stop to see if it followed, but continued to run, telling myself it was a dream; that I would wake up soon. If the undead were still around I could no longer hear them.

 

"Fool!" The word boomed in my head. My thoughts exploded. Blinding white light ripped through my mind like a fireball. I found myself lying in the dirt before the city wall, sobbing. My blood dripped into the dirt from numerous wounds I had no recollection of receiving. All I knew then was terror. "You cannot escape me!"

 

I saw the undead then. Swarms of them, summoned here by some unheard command. They moved silently now, almost stealthily. The nearest haunt raised its sword above my head. I screamed and scrambled away, squirming between a zombie and the haunt. My arm brushed against zombie flesh and I felt my skin burn and fall away. But I was too far gone now to register the pain. The only thing that mattered was escape. I spotted a collapsing building and ran for it, tripping over the uneven road and using my good arm to keep myself on my feet. The thing's shadow fell over the street just as I dashed through the building's doorway.

 

"Stone will not protect you." The voice was quieter now, almost teasing. "You will be mine."

 

I could hear the shuffle of undead feet as they approached the building. I glanced around for the stairs to the upper floor but saw nothing. Ran into the adjoining room. Nothing. Spinning around in panic, I spotted it. A ladder. Hysterical laughter threatened to bubble forth at the irony of it. A ruined arm and a damaged leg and I had to find a ladder!

 

A zombie's groan echoed through from the other room. I closed my eyes for a second, wished myself luck and leapt at the ladder. I managed to catch a rung that was level with the ceiling. Kicking awkwardly, I found purchase with my feet and begged them to hold my weight as I worked my hand up the ladder's side to the next rung. Then I moved my feet, one at I time. It was a slow process, but effective. My shoulders and torso were through the opening to the upper floor when the first zombie reached me. It swiped at my leg, ripping a chunk of flesh from my calf and leaving my blood sizzling. Nausea swept over me and I nearly fell. Only the edge of the opening pressing against my back kept me up. I kicked at the reaching hands, threw my hand above my head and hauled myself through. I rolled onto the floor and lay there, breathing hard and listening to the moans of the undead beneath me.

 

The roof exploded. A huge hand plunged straight towards me. I felt it brush my back as I dived out the way. The hand withdrew but I knew it would come back. Spotting the half-collapsed wall that had drawn me here, I scrambled onto it and used its crumbling brickwork as a stairway to the top of the city wall. Once there, I looked back once, saw the thing's hand plunging towards me and jumped.

 

"No...!!" The word pounded in my head like thunder. I lay on my back and watched as the thing slowly withdrew. Whatever magic had been placed in the wall to hold back the undead apparently worked on that thing too. Not that I cared right then. All I wanted to do was get back home and rest.

 

 

- Lytha: Submission - Day 5: 5:00pm

 

I was back in my cell. I had told them everything they wanted to hear. It was easy, at last. I had told them what they wanted to hear. I told them that I was a pagan and a witch, and that I wanted to summon some demons into this world to destroy it. I told them that I had met the Trickster himself and handed him my life, in exchange for some goodies. I told them that my sister, my brother, my father, my mother, my neighbors, my fences were all involved in this conspiracy. I told them everything to escape from the pain. It did not matter that I had never had a brother and that my entire family was dead now. The Hammers didn't know that. And they seemed to be pleased. And they seemed to believe it.

 

And I believed it, myself, shortly after my arms were almost dislocated.

 

The light went on, and off, and on.

 

I stared at it. It went off.

 

I hit the nails of my left hand into the right arm, and pulled them towards the hand. They left bloody sores. The pain was slightly satisfying. A feeling in the numbness, at least. I continued.

 

The light went on.

 

The light went out.

 

I had mistreated my right arm, until it bled. It hurt. It gave me one feeling in the numbness. One feeling -- pain. Better than nothing. Better than the numbness I had felt in the last days. I continued, ignoring the blood. Scratching deeper, and deeper.

 

I did not even give it a glance.

 

I had closed my eyes to lock out sight of the cell, and the door, and the chains from my mind. I let my thoughts wander freely.  My mind drifted away.  I felt my body go limp.

 

Amidst the wild dancing pictures of the last days, I made my sister's face out. She stood there without moving, beneath the picture of this Inquisitor, beneath the rack where I had lain the last day. Thalia looked straight into my eyes.

 

I focused her image, and tried to step closer. She looked younger, much younger. As young as she had been before the Hammerites had taken her away, three years ago. She smiled at me. But when I took the next step, she turned and ran away. I had so much to ask, so much to say. I followed her. She headed to a sunny valley. I followed her happily.

 

But when I had reached the valley, all went black. I realized that I was in another area, black as a pit. The valley was away. And also was Thalia away. I was alone in the dark. But I could hear voices in the darkness. Low voices, and shouting. One came directly from behind.

 

"Why have you betrayed me? Why did you not read the letter I wrote?" That was Thalia's voice. She spoke quietly. I turned.

 

"No! WHY Has You Betrayed Usss? LISTEN!" I turned again. The new voice echoed Thalia's. But it perverted its contents. And it shouted.

 

"Wasn't it enough that they had captured me? Why you?" I saw Thalia's face, but it disappeared shortly after I had seen it.

 

"Wasn't It enough that you left Usss alone when they Captured Ussss, and WHEN we DIED?!" I saw two old Thalias in front of me. All were dead. They pointed with their cold, dead claw like hands at me.

 

"And Now you Think WE should Sympathize with You?!" Their eyes were glassy. Their claws touched my face.

 

"Ohhhh, My Dear Poooor Lytha!?"

 

I turned. I tried to move my frozen legs to get out off there. I could not do one single move. I could not even say a word or cry.

 

"It was odd, but shortly before my death, I could see it clear. I understood. It made sense, at last. I analyzed myself, and understood. I had visions. Visions about the future. And I wanted to protect you." I turned. Thalia again. The younger version. The friendly one.

 

"SHUT UP!!"

 

She continued, hasty. I stared at the grotesque caricature of my sister. It tried to push Thalia away.

 

"I tried to warn you. I knew that you would not read the letter, so I addressed it to a man who might be able to help you now. And I signed with your name, well knowing that my last days had approached."

 

"Yes, you never LISTEN. But NOW you are Ourssss!" a cold claw touched me again.

 

Thalia spoke in a greater hurry now. "Take it as a chance. As the small possibility of…hope."

 

She disappeared. With her vanishing, I could move my feet again. I ran.

 

I ran.

 

 

- Nightfall: Personal Log, Supplemental - Day 5: 5:00pm

 

"Well things were going smoothly, until about mid afternoon.  As a tree fell, a large branch came smashing down onto one of the bulldozers, and broke the main cylinder.  What was odd, was that the tree began to fall the way they always fell, the way the machine was designed to make them fall, out and away, and then suddenly changed the path of descent just enough to let the branch smash into the most sensitive part of the device.  Bad news.  What resulted was an explosion, a small fire, and unfortunately, or fortunately, depends on whose side you’re on, three of the Hammerite workers were killed.  One of them was right next to the thing when it happened.  He felt no pain, but the people who were struck by his flying bones did.  He was obliterated by the force of the explosion.   His blood is still on the machine.  Ghastly.  The second was burned badly, and died from a head wound sustained by flying debris.  The third had his arm severed, and bled to death within minutes.  He died bravely, I must say.  Didn’t cry out or anything, just let the Builder take him.  We all held ten minutes of silent prayer for them, burned them; Thurm did a short ceremony as we put the ashes in makeshift urns. Markers were erected, and then the Hammers got right back to work. 

 

"It would take a good day, and new material to fix the broken 'dozer, so until that happened the progress speed was cut in half.  They pulled it off the road, where they, and a team summoned to bring repair equipment and more workers, would work on fixing it.  Meanwhile the rest of the force would push ahead. 

 

"Richen and I remounted the carriage to continue our journey behind them, but our mood was quite different.  We didn’t talk much -- just sat in silence. 

 

“End entry.”

 

 

- Ghost:  Smirking Chaos - Day 5: 5:00pm

 

Consciousness returned to me some time later.  I wasn't sure how long I had been out cold.  I may as well have kept sleeping, seeing as I had a headache like no living person has ever had.  It took a moment to register what had happened, and where I was.  As I looked out from behind the bars, I managed to figure it out.  This was a cell in the maximum-security area.  I was shackled to the wall by the ankles, and my hands were chained together.  The Hammerite uniform was gone, even my boots.  All I had left were bruises to show for my efforts.  Thank goodness they didn't take all my clothes.  My new living quarters consisted of a cell of about 4 feet by 8 feet.  It was just long enough to keep me from reaching the door while I was chained to the wall.  I could hear the crying and moans from other prisoners.  If this headache didn't stop pounding I would probably join the chorus.  I guess that second guard had all the suspicion he needed, and cracked me on the head with one of those huge maul-hammers they like to play with.  It was probably the smartest thing he'd done since joining the order.

 

So, now it was to be an escape instead of a jailbreak.  I did have a backup plan in case this happened.  Unfortunately, the plan did not include how I was going to get out of my cell once I got the shackles off.  I checked my leg for my emergency backup lock picks.  I found they hadn't been that thorough when they stripped me of my gear.  I peeled back the glue patch on my leg, which hid the picks.  That skin-colored glue really comes in handy for some things.  If done right, it looks just like a nasty scar.  I spent a few minutes fiddling with those minuscule picks, trying to get the shackles off.   Eventually I was freed from my bonds.  Now I just had to find a way to get the door open, to get out, and get something done.  I slid the picks back under the glue patch and stuck it back as best as I could.  Hopefully they wouldn't notice it, just in case I got caught again.  I crawled forward and peeked out the door. I could see a few other cells in the room, and a door, probably locked, to the right.  There was also the usual guard watching from above.  Only one guard?  I couldn't be in the security zone. That is, unless there is something worse outside that door.

 

"Guaaarrdd!"  I formed a plan as I sat there.  I was going to get out of this cell and take as many of these scumbags with me as I could.  Revenge on the inquisitor could wait.  No answer, but it wouldn't stop me from trying.  "I killed that other guard and I'm going to kill you too! But you need to let me out first!"  I thought maybe if I got him mad enough he'd come down to beat on me a little.  I draped the wrist shackles back over my hands and sat back by the wall.  Strangely enough, the door to my cell slid open, but I didn't dare step out.  He probably had a crossbow waiting to shoot me if I was loose.  Footsteps approached the cell, and a deep voice finally spoke as the guard came into view and stopped just outside of my room. 

 

"Thou hast killed my brother, but thou will never kill again, heathen!"  He looked as if he wanted to step in and beat me senseless right then, but a good guard would never step into danger like that.  I stood up and rattled my chains a bit to let him think I was still secure and taunted him a bit more. 

 

"Why don't you come on in here and show me how tough you big bad-assed guards are without those hammers?"  This guy was well trained; he didn't look too upset, but I don't think he liked me for killing another guard.  Still, he was dumb enough to open the door for me.

 

"If it is a fight thee wants, then thou shalt have to come out and face me, craven!"  He was taunting me back!  The look of surprise on his face when I launched myself at him was almost priceless.  He didn't expect me to be loose, and he surely didn't expect the punch to the groin, which sent him to the ground moaning like most of the other people in this area.  He wouldn't stay down from that for long, but the shackles wrapped around his neck fixed that.  Some other prisoners had noticed what was happening and started shouting for freedom.  They quieted down some when I assured them they would be out soon.  His keys and uniform would prove as useful as the others I had borrowed.  The armor would help a little too.  After shackling the body into my cell, I went upstairs to check the log book.

 

The door slid open to reveal a panel of levers and a desk.  The log book listed Lytha as being in cell 4, but the levers weren't numbered.  I flipped each of the levers and the doors slid open one by one.  The prisoners started making noise again.  I went down to cell 4 first, in spite of the others’ demands to be the first to escape.  She was conscious, but just barely.  It seemed like she was in a state of shock. 

 

Occasionally she muttered something, and her eyes twitched about.  Weird.  She was in no condition to move by her own power.  Even though she was beaten badly, in terrible shape, bleeding all over, and in this weird trance, she still seemed to have a bit of charm about her.  I unchained her and let her lie there for a minute while I released the others, who could walk, and explained what I needed them all to do.  The need to move fast was imperative, since I didn't know what time of day it was or if someone was about to walk in.  The plan was simple.  Assuming I was in the same place I had originally been heading to, we could mob the guards and equip anyone who could fight for the big escape.  I would have to carry the girl out. I wanted out fast, and we had no time to bring her to her senses.

 

One of the prisoners was a tall man. He had probably been a guard or soldier at some point.  Although he was rather thin and beaten, he had fire in his eyes.  He wanted out of here just as much as I, so I let him lead the break.  I handed him the armor and hammer I had taken from the guard and gave him some suggestions.  When I was done unchaining the rest of the prisoners, I picked Lytha up and slung her over my shoulder.  Carrying her like that,  meant I wasn't going to climb out the way I came in. Unless, of course, we ran into a case full of healing potions or were blessed with a miracle.

 

I unlocked the block door and signaled the small group of prisoners to move.  The objective was to get to Cell Blocks 3 and 4, and release those prisoners as well.  That would make enough of a distraction for Lytha and I to escape, I hoped.  It seemed that there was only one or two guards at any given station.  Getting to the other prisoners wouldn't be that hard.  Seeing as this was the maximum security group, it meant that these were the most dangerous prisoners in the entire place.  The hallway beyond the door split off into several others.  Thankfully, the Hammerites insisted on putting signs everywhere.  The escape group and I were about to make a break for the stairs when a door opened to the left and a guard wandered out.  I don't think he even knew what hit him when the prisoners took him down.  He was quickly disarmed.  I pushed the crowd to keep moving and not make a lot of noise.  We made our way to the steps, and sure enough there were two new guards at the bottom. The prisoners were an enthusiastic bunch, looking for freedom and revenge on their captors.  The gang leader took one guard down fast by throwing his borrowed hammer and hitting the guard squarely in the chest.  Sadly, I saw a couple of the prisoners struck down, killed, before the other guard was taken down as well.  By some stroke of luck the alarm hadn't been sounded yet, but I knew that wouldn't last long.  I warned the group about the checkpoint up ahead.  This crowd's first job was take out those guards, and then move on to block 4 to free more prisoners, while I took Lytha back to the room where I stashed my pack.

 

The event went pretty much as I expected; as soon as the guards saw the mob heading towards them the alarm was sounded, and the carnage really got started.  I didn't even stop to watch.  Running down the hallway with a body in your arms tends to make sightseeing less likely.  The mob got to the guards and another brawl began.  By the time I got to the lift, only a few of the prisoners were left standing.  I reached the edge of the shaft.  I heard the platform coming down.  There was no one on it but it didn't stop, so I took a chance and jumped on anyway.  It was headed for the ground floor, to load up with guards to stop the riot, no doubt.  I jumped off at the next floor without stopping the lift.  Lytha and I both tumbled to the ground. I could hear the shouts from the guards waiting impatiently for the lift. I quickly grabbed her and almost dragged her down the hall.  I didn't want to be standing here when the lift, full of Hammerites, went by, even though I still had on a Hammer uniform.  The safety of the room was close, and if I could make it there I would be very happy.

 

I kicked in the door to the room.  Someone was there.  That wasn't good.  I did the only thing I could think to do. I screamed at the man, who was shaving, as I set Lytha down on the floor. "Come on Brother!  They are all escaping!  We need every man out there!  GO GO GO!"  He almost tripped over himself as he ran out the door with his hammer in hand.  "They sure don't grow these boys very bright now do they?"  I had to laugh as I pulled Lytha's limp body into the room and pulled the pack from the vent.  This was going to work.  At least that's what I kept telling myself over and over.  By now a good portion of the guards should be upstairs and the front door should be open except for a few guards.  Those I had plans for.  The footsteps clomping down the hall prompted me to shut the door and wait another minute.  That gave me time to count my supplies.  There wasn't much to work with: two gas mines, four flash bombs, and a dagger.  Maybe next time someone offers me a lot of money to do something like this I should think about saying no and walking away.

 

"Well, it's time Lytha, are you ready?  Of course you are, or you would say no!"  To tell the truth, I wasn't ready.  I was hurting all over, but she was in much worse shape.  She was bleeding on me, and she hadn't even been hit by anything but the floor.  All she did was moan in pain as I picked her up and opened the door again.  I could hear the shouting and clanging of weapons as a battle went on one floor above.  I guess the guys I freed had freed the other prisoners, because the ones who were left couldn't make all that noise on their own.  Sadly, I was pretty sure that all of them were going to die.  Thinking about it, I'm sure they would all much rather die like this, then to be executed.  With a press of the button the lift started on it's way down and stopped in front of us.  I stepped on, and hit the descend button.  On the way down I pulled out a flasher just in case there were more guards waiting, but it sounded like most were upstairs already. 

 

The hallways winded a bit, but as usual the signs pointed the way to the main entrance.  Soon the hall opened up into a large chamber.  At the other end was the exit.  The room was empty except for a big fire pit and some benches, but I could see a couple guards lingering around outside of the doorway.  I laid Lytha down on one of the benches, and  decided this is one of those times I just had to fight my way out.  Hell, it’s starting to become the rule rather then the exception in my life.

 

I activated the two gas mines and slid them toward the door.  In my most nasal Hammer voice I screamed, "Brothers, the heathens are upon us!"  Naturally the fanatical group of about six ran into battle without thinking and discovered the trap laid for them. 

 

The gas mines went off with a fwoosh!  Most of the group didn't even get out a curse on my family before hitting the floor.  The big guy in back, who had managed to escape the gas, wasn't amused.  He raised his hammer and charged me!  I stood my ground calmly until he got within about ten feet.  Then I let him have the backup plan.  I shielded my eyes as I slammed two flash bombs at my feet.  Blind and dazed, the Hammerite still tried to swing his hammer at my head. Without being encumbered by armor and a heavy weapon, I was able to duck and spin around him, slashing my dagger across the back of his knee, severing whatever it is there that keeps you from falling down. 

 

Bleeding and screaming as he fell over, he threatened me with the wrath of the Builder.  He told me that my death will be inevitable, or something like that.  "I don't like being imprisoned and threatened, sir. For that you must pay and go to see The Builder. You will be the example!"  My blood boiled as I plunge my knife into his chest.  "You are merely the first, many others will join you."  With that said, I picked up his body, my dagger still embedded in his chest, and threw him onto the smoldering fire.

 

My work done, I collected Lytha and tried to put as much distance between myself and this place as possible.  I didn’t think any of the other prisoners made it out, but, again, at least they died fighting, instead of rotting away in a cell.  Lytha and I camped outside of town until it got dark, so there would be shadows to hide in on the way home.  I needed rest, and I wasn’t about to go climbing up Nightfall’s fancy stairway with Lytha on my back; I don't care how much he pays.  Hopefully she would come out of her daze soon.  

 

Even though I caused quite a bit of chaos back there, and managed to get quite a few of those bastards killed, I wasn’t satisfied. 

 


Chapter 8 - A Change of Pace

 

- Lytha:  Waking from the Nightmare - Day 5: 11:00pm

 

I awoke. The place had changed. And I was unchained. There was a window.  It was dark outside.  A man sat in a chair, staring into a fireplace.  I had seen this face before. Somehow, he must have been in the prison. I could not make sense out off it. 

 

"Don't you remember?! He was one of the Guards!" 

 

This was a new voice in the permanent shouting inside my head. It sounded childish, filled with fear. But it lied, I was sure it did. I tried to force it back. The voices faded away, but they were always ready to come back. I had heard them permanently in the last day. Or days; I did not remember.

 

"Where -" I tried to ask, but it ended in a moan. My lips felt still numb.

 

He looked up.

 

"Where... am I?" I croaked.

 

"It's not important."

 

"Who -- "

 

"Nightfall sent me to get you out."

 

I was highly irritated. Nightfall? I had never seen him. Never spoken to him. Never met him. Why could he have sent someone to get me out of there?  "But why -- "

 

"Don't know, didn't ask. Apparently he needed a woman to bleed on his carpet and I was more than willing to give him the one I just picked up." He turned away.  "I'm taking you to him as soon as you can walk.  Maybe he can help with your injuries too."  With that he left the room.

 

 

- Nightfall: Personal Log, Supplemental - Day 5: 11:00pm

 

"It was growing late, and my mind moved to other matters.  I hoped that Els had managed to save Jyre, or at least that Jyre was safe.  Properly equipped, and informed, the Forbidden Zone was really not that difficult to master.  Still any number of things could happen, and I worried nonetheless.  Then there was Lytha and Ghost.  Had I done the right thing?  Lytha, by her own word, was old, so how much of the Hammerite torture could she really withstand?  There was a good chance that by the time Ghost got to her, she would already be dead.  And Ghost.  What about him?  Just because he could tomb raid, didn’t necessarily mean that he could break into a complex that fortified.  As always, I feared the worst, and hoped for the best.

 

"It was nearing midnight.  My favorite time of day.  Heh.  Because there was only one machine, they decided to push it all night.  They had enough men to work in shifts now, so it was actually less work than before.  Only so many men can work on something like that before they start just getting in each other’s way.  Thurm had decided he was more useful back with the repair crew, so he went back to them, leaving me in charge.  I told the task force to just carry on as planned.   The good news was that now I had control over the current situation.  That’s never bad.  The downside was that I couldn’t really leave for home this night; I’d have to stay and maintain my role as head of the operation.   I didn’t mind.  After what I saw earlier, I doubt I could have slept anyway.

 

"A few strange things happened this evening.  For one, several of the Hammerites who were taking their break reported that their hammers were missing!  Of course, they expected me to hurt them or something for negligence, (they were VERY upset!) but I didn’t.  I just told them that they should make news ones as soon as the operation was over.  We had spare hammers anyway.  Why I don’t know.  Oh well.  I truly wonder what happened to those hammers.  It’s not like a soldier to just lose his weapon like that.  Foul play was at work.  Dark foul play.  I hope James gets me that full report soon.  Very soon.  Hopefully it will -- "

 

“Heya Dan.”

 

I looked up from my logbook.  “Yes, Rich?”

 

"Who da 'ell 'er ya talkin’ to?"

 

I must have let my voice grow above a whisper.  "This log book. I speak to it, and it records what I say."

 

“Ah, im, well, pass me s’more o’ dat pepper, will ya?”

 

I picked up the red pepper flask from my sack, and handed it to Richen.  He promptly shook a dash of it onto his bean and meat stew.  Reminding that mine was getting cold, I shoveled another scoop of the stuff onto my mouth.  It was my own recipe, so I had no complaints about it whatsoever.  I quickly finished my log entry.

 

"I hope James gets me that full report soon.  Very soon.  Hopefully it will contain all the information I need.

 

"End day’s entry."

 

I put my black book into my sack, and finished off my meal.  Richen helped himself to some more, scooping it out of the pot that sat on its perch over the fire.  “Very nice bit o’ cookin, Dan.  Hits the spot I might add,” he said, between munches.  I smiled and nodded a thank you, as I placed my bowl on a nearby rock.  “So,” he continued, “how much longer till these redcoats are done rippin' through da woods?”

 

I sighed, “Could be anywhere from two to three days at this point.  Depends on whether or not they get the other bulldozer fixed.”

 

He nodded and grunted.  “Heh, with the luck this band o’ metal larks ‘ave been ‘avin’, I’ll nay be surprised if we get thar, and ‘ell, we find eh -- nothin!”

 

I laughed slightly.   “Well, if the place up and vanished, I’m sure the scouts at the posts would let us know in advance.”

 

“Imm, aye.  Twould be da natural thing, eh?”  He munched some more.  “Still, ah can’t help but shake the feelin’… hmm.”

 

“What feeling?”  He shifted about uncomfortably.

 

“Weell, it’s Suzy, she’s jittery-like.  Yea knew, like there’s somethin’ amiss in de air.  Animals, they gots a sixth sense ‘bout these things.”

 

I looked up from Richen and my campsite.  Suzy was chained to a tree, next to the carriage.  A bit away from us, the Hammers were already mostly asleep, using the ruts in the dirt cut by the machine wheels as beds.  They were huddled, all fifty of them, (seventeen were back with the broken machine), in the center of the newly built road, as far from the walls of wood as they could get.  The moon and the stars were out tonight, so things were pretty well illuminated through the rip in the canopy overhead.  Still several small campfires marked the perimeter of the Hammerite campsite.  Richen and I were off the road, slightly into the woods.  I turned back to him.  “Suzy’s not the only one who senses evil in these woods.”  He could see the grave look in my eyes. 

 

“Dan, what’re we goin' after anyhow?”

 

“A pagan,” I told him.  “Like I told you before.”

 

“Aye, well, a pagan is a pagan, ‘ell, I’m a pagan!  Not that I worship the woods or anythin', but I’d sooner spit the Builder in the eye than bow down ta the bastard!”  He took another bite.  “But ye don’t see me makin’ ‘orses jittery and the wood all ‘aunted!”

 

“Richen, all I can say is that there is danger ahead.  You told me that you laugh at danger, and I hired you to drive my vehicle.”

 

“Oh don’t worry!  I ain’t gettin’ yellah, no!  I’m ‘ere wit’cha!”

 

I smiled and nodded to him.  “Good man.”

 

“Welp,  I’m gonna take the advice o’ them redcoats and get some shuteye.  G’nite Dan.”

 

“Goodnight, Rich.”

 

He turned over and fell asleep.  I didn’t.

 

 

- Jyre:  Els - Day 6: 5:00am

 

It was almost dawn when I finally saw my small home again. My wounds were starting to take their toll. Every step was agony as pain jolted through my whole body. I had lost a lot of blood back there, although most of the cuts now seemed to have stopped leaking. Avoiding the Hammerite patrols had made things even worse and now it was taking all my energy just to slide one foot in front of the other. My eyelids kept sliding down and my thoughts drifted towards sleep. Seeing the small hovel brought I degree of revival to my weary body and I managed to stumble up to the door. I fumbled in my pocket and took out my key. It felt like a lead weight in my hand. I lifted it to the keyhole. The door swung open before I could put it in the lock.

 

My heart leapt into my throat. I knew something was dreadfully wrong. Els never left our home unlocked. I stepped into the single room and found myself facing a nightmare.

 

The furniture had been smashed. Our things were strewn about all over the floor. The shutters had been ripped from the window and now lay in splinters underneath. Surprisingly, the oil lamp remained intact and its tiny flame gave the blood that seemed to coat everything a sickening orange tinge. I stepped over the shattered crockery that lay just inside the door and stared at the destruction. It was several minutes before I discovered Els.

 

I saw his feet first, sticking out from behind the bed. My heart was gripped with ice. My feelings fled, leaving me numb. I suddenly knew without having to look that this was his blood! I stepped around the bed to find him lying on the floor, stiff fingers curled around the hilt of a bloody dagger. Not all his blood then, I thought grimly. A smile twitched at my lips at that thought but it didn't last. He had been stabbed. In his chest. In his legs. There was an arrow sticking out of his left shoulder. The facts flitted through my head quickly, my mind too pained to comprehend what they meant. Then, as he lay dying, someone had slit his throat.

 

I stumbled backwards. My back slammed against the wall. I slid down, drew my knees up against my chest, wrapped my arms around my legs and wept.

 

 

- Ghost:  A Needed Break - Day 6: 6:00am

 

The past few days had been almost non-stop action.  I was ready to sleep the day away.  Lytha barely stirred at all, which could be good or bad.  I guess it’s good, seeing as she’s getting some rest.  After grabbing a bite to eat, I got back into bed, turned over, and fell back asleep.

 

 

- Nightfall:  Personal Log, 9.11 - Day 6: 12:00pm

 

"Ten years ago, today, events were set in motion that would change the place I once called home, forever.  The events are still so very vivid in my mind.  I often wonder where I would be today had this not happened.  Seeing as they did, there was really no point in dwelling on the concept.  I wouldn’t go back there, to the place it has become, ever.  I fought too hard to escape.

 

"The repair crew received the supplies needed to fix the machine this morning, so said the messenger.  It should be operational before noon, and back with us before dusk.

 

"The weather has been hot.  I felt indignant stripping down to my tunic & trousers, but it was worth it.  Richen went scouting for a place to let Suzy get a drink, so I went on foot for about two hours.  The man is a brilliant navigator.  I’m glad I hired him.  As for myself, this is lasting a bit longer than I expected, so the lunches & dinners Marith packed for me shall be gone soon.  No sense in letting them rot.  I guess it’s Hammerite rations for me for a bit.  I suppose it never hurts to have more iron in your diet.  Har har har.

 

"Everything is uneventful.  It reeks of boredom.  I wish I could run up ahead, scout, or go back, and do something, anything than just sit and wait while these zealots tear down trees.  Alas, undertaking anything of the sort, will have that High Priest pouncing, and every battle I lose against him, the closer I bring myself to not only loosing the respect of the council, but having to eat a pair of dirty hands, and then having my tongue ripped out and fed to a thief. Not nice to think about, let alone experience.

 

"Walking too many paths… hmm…. I’m walking a path right now, built by the Hammerites, to the Trickster, or rather one of his worshipers, or maybe more.   Walking too many paths… I wish I could remember the exact words he used.  Words can be so important.  Am I right? Am I wrong?  I wish I could remember.

 

"At any rate, I need a break.  No more log for today."

 

 

- Lytha:  A Stranger's Home - Day 7: 7:00am

 

Slowly I felt consciousness return to me.  The surface I laid on was strange.  It was soft, not hard like my cell floor.  For an instant, I could not remember where I was, and then I realized, that what happened last night had not been a dream!  I was in that same strange house!  I had been rescued!  I opened my eyes to see a wooden ceiling, and a room, flooded with daylight from the window behind the bed.  I blinked as my eyes stung from the light.

 

I was still wondering. Why Nightfall? Why me? I shook my head, and knew that I couldn't understand it. Maybe it had something to do with the letter that Thalia had written. If I had only an idea what she might have written him.  And then this other man, who got me out off there, brought me somewhere. And I --

 

"You do not even know his NAME!"

 

Yes, indeed. This time the voices were right. I knew nothing about him.

 

"He could be a Hammerite and do even worse to you!"

 

I looked around. The room was small. In front of the fireplace was a table with some papers on it. I moaned as quietly as possible when I tried to move myself towards it. Everything hurt. I looked down at my hands, and saw the bloody scars on the back of the right hand. And the wounds that the shackles had left. I remembered that I had mistreated my hands in the last ... hours, days? Far too long, in any case. The terrible feelings of helplessness and numbness struck me, and I felt sick. But there was still the need to learn as much as possible about this strange rescuer. I tried to ignore the pain, and crawled to the table.

 

The papers were empty. I sighed.

 

But I found a pen, hidden under some paper sheets.

 

I took the pen and an empty paper, and started to write a letter to this ominous Nightfall. The writing was very difficult for me, because my hands were shaking from the strain to crawl to the table. But the handwriting was readable, at least.

 

Dear Sir,

 

I don't know why you sent this man to get me out of Cragscleft. But I think I should thank very much you for it. But I am very curious about your motives.

 

Yours sincerely,

Lytha

 

The pen fell from my shaking hand down under the table. I tried to get it back, but in this moment I heard footsteps outside the door.

 

"Now they will come and get you back to Cragscleft! And you know what? You deserve it!"

 

I grew stiff, and my eyes searched for a place to hide. I tried to crawl away from the table, heading mindlessly to the sofa. The man came in. I stared at the door. He was alone, no Hammers behind him.

 

"You're obviously not fit to travel, so I'll go alone while you rest," he said.

 

I looked up at him, trying desperately to not let my vision be twisted and distorted by my mind. He stood a little over six feet tall. He had a large gray cloak, with the hood down. He wore black boots up to his knees, and the rest of him was covered with leather armor, fashioned as clothing, and painted black. His skin was pale, and he seemed tightly packed, strong, like he had eaten well. I did not dare look at his face. I didn’t want to risk seeing something hideous in his eyes.

 

"You're not fit to travel, so I'll go alone.” he said, again.

 

"Only because you can't see them this does not mean that they won't come!"

 

"And where will he go? To them, I bet!"

 

"You deserve it, you Betrayer. You deserve everything!"

 

And they broke into a laughter -- a terrible, loud laughter.

 

I tried to ignore them, but I could not force the voices down, this time.

 

He looked at me. Then he added with a smile: "As long as you don't rob my house and sneak out."

 

I stared at him. He was obviously waiting for an answer. I forced myself to nod. I managed it, but only slowly.

 

“You slept all day, yesterday,” he said.  “How do you feel?”

 

I just looked at him.  I blinked a few more times, and glanced around the room, nervously.

 

He nodded. Then he had a look at the table, and saw the letter. He went to the table, and asked me: "May I?" before he read its address. I tried to nod again, but I did not manage it very well this time. And my head had begun to hurt more than before. He looked at the paper, and suddenly let out a little laugh. "Well wow, so you have no idea why he sent me after you, eh? Prumph, the rich, who can figure them out…"

 

I wasn’t surprised that Nightfall hadn’t explained it to the middle-man. I’m not sure if it made me feel better or worse to know that he was as much in the dark as I was.

 

"Nightfalls! Wants you he does!"

 

"Just shut up! All of you!"

 

"Uses his dark Magiks on you he shall! Turn you into a Beastie he will!"

 

"And You Deserve it! You Deserve it all! BURN in Hell!"

 

"You in his clutches he wants! Run! Run!"

 

"Shall I take it to the Circle?" he asked, his words cutting through the shrieking in my head like a machete through tangle-vines.

 

He took my nod as a "yes" and put it into his pocket.

 

"I will deliver it to him. Now try to feel comfy here until I come back."

 

He smiled again and left the room, closing the door.

 

I tried to relax myself, but I heard still the laughing and shouting voices in my head. I pressed my hands against my forehead, to make them silent again. I managed it, slowly.

 

In the following silence, I heard him leaving the apartment. A key turned in a lock.

 

 

- Ghost:  Masks - Day 7: 7:10am

 

I was feeling pretty damn good, actually.  I pulled off what most thieves only dreamt of, and only took moderate injury.  After a full day’s rest, I felt nearly good as new.  Of course, a few healing potions helped as well.  Yeah, I broke down and bought a couple.  “What the hell,” I said.  They may taste awful, and make you gag for air like you just swallowed a bottle of tree sap, but they do the job well.  I’d have offered some to Lytha, but they aren’t cheap, and I was sure Nightfall has more than enough to give her.  Hopefully she would survive the day without it.  Bastard Hammerites and their bastard ways -- I’d kill them all if I had the chance.

 

Okay, so I was once again off to The Circle of Stone and Shadow.  Never trust a place that had the word “circle” in its title, my father used to say.  (He also used to say that the rats in the basement were plotting to take over the world.)  I got there about halfway ‘till noon, figuring the guy had to be in the office at that time.  I strolled through the yard into one of the doors, which was always open, and made my way through the light crowd to Nightfall’s big office.  A smile crossed my face as I saw his secretary sitting at her desk, book in hands.  I paused for a second, momentarily stunned by her shining golden hair and beautiful face.  It was definitely the same girl as before, but this time I couldn't take my eyes off her! 

 

“Ahem?”

 

She looked up.

 

I waved, “Hey there, is the boss in?”

 

She smiled and shook her head.  “Off on important business.  Out of town.  Should be back in a few days.”  She went back to her book.

 

I wanted to scream.  I wanted my money now, not tomorrow, not three days from now, NOW.  That piece of crap skipped town.  All I could say was a very exasperated, “WHAT?”

 

She looked up again.  Green eyes -- wow, green eyes.  A friend of mine once spent two hours describing to me just how fabulous green eyes were.  I can’t say he was half wrong, even though he was drunk off his ass at the time.  “It was very unexpected, I’m very sorry.  You are Ghost, are you not?  You were doing a job for him, correct?” 

 

Wow.  It was definitely the same girl.  It was odd how different she looked now.  “Uh, yeah, jailbreak… He said he would pay me… “ My mind shuddered for a moment.  Did he say one thousand or ten thousand?  It sounded like an awful lot at the time.  I gave myself the benefit of the doubt.  “Ten thousand gold for the rescue of one prisoner, this Lytha woman.”

 

She looked thoughtful for a moment.  “Do you have Lytha with you?”

 

“Um, no,” Those green eyes were giving me goose-bumps.  “She’s at my home, resting.  She’s beat up.”

 

“Hmm.. well, I’d pay you myself, but I can only handle sums of one thousand or less.”  Damn, if I had said one thousand, I would have gotten the cash and been done with it. I’m pretty sure he said one thousand anyway, ten is a huge amount for a job.  I couldn’t go back on a lie now, I may not get paid at all.  Play it cool, Ghost.

 

“Aha; well.”  Maybe I could pursue her to dish something!  “How about you give me one thousand, ten times,” I said with a grin.

 

She just laughed and looked at me like I was an idiot.  No one looks at me like that, man or woman!  But she had those damn green eyes.  What was it with them?  All I could do was try not to stare.  She put her book down, crossed her arms on the desktop, leaned forward and just looked at me.  That was the last straw.  The green eyes I could handle, but she had a rather large collar, and when she leaned forward, wow.  Okay, Ghost, you’ve seen better in a bar, however there was something about her that was different.  She had dignity -- exotic dignity. Hot damn. Okay, Ghost, focus.

 

I totally forgot why I was even there.  I forced my eyes away from her.  The money, right, I gotta get the money.  “Okay, miss, how about if you give me one thousand now, and when Nightfall gets back, he can give me the rest!”

 

She laughed, and shook her head.  “It doesn’t work like that.  Why do you need this money now so badly?”

 

Why?  Because it’s my money, what other reason do I need!  I was about to say that, and I don’t know what stopped me.  If it had been anyone else, I would have said it.  A lie, I needed something to make myself not look like a bum.  “Um, my rent is due today!”

 

She smiled at me.  Oh shit, I should not have looked at that smile.  “You’ll have to lie better than that.”  How did she know it was a lie!

 

“Oh, I’ve seen enough men lie in my day to be able to tell.” 

 

“I said that out loud?!” I shouted.

 

She smiled and nodded, giggling.

 

Damn.  I would have to wait then.  No sense trying to persuade with a creature that turns my brain to mush just by looking at me.  My mind darted around for another answer.  I did not want to waste the trip across town!

 

“Would you like a drink?” she said suddenly, getting up.  I had seen her entire body before, last time I was here.  I don’t understand it.  Why was she only moderately attractive before, and now all I could do was keep my jaw from hanging open.  She was a little over five feet tall, well endowed, slender waist, gracefully curved hips and legs…

 

I saw her hand motioning my view upwards.  “Hello?” she said with a smile.  “Oh dear, I know what’s wrong,” she said suddenly.  She unclasped the circlet from her neck, and transformed before my eyes.  She now looked exactly how I remembered!  She still looked great, but not mesmerizing!

 

“What?  What did you do?”

 

“This,” she said, motioning to the large ring of gold in her hand.  “It’s an artifact one of the thieves brought a while back.  I had been cataloging artifacts and discovered it’s unusual enchantment.”

 

“It’s a beauty spell?”  I said, hoping she would put it back on.

 

She laughed, “No, not really.  It seems that it identifies the quality of the wearer that is most prominent, and then alters his or her appearance to magnify it.”

 

“Ahhh, “ I said, looking over it.  “So you just got lucky, eh?”  I smiled at her.

 

She smiled, “Maybe, maybe not.  Is unsurpassed beauty a curse, or a blessing?  All depends on the eye of the beholder, I suppose."  Oh great, she was a philosopher. "I’m sorry, I forgot I was wearing it.”

 

“Care to put it back on?” I said with a half smirk

 

She just smiled teasingly.  “And let you drool, good heavens no!”

 

Dammit!  Ah well.

 

“Say,” she paused, and then handed it to me.  “Try it on, I’ll fetch a mirror.”

 

I laughed.  “Sure, why not.  I’m not partial for jewelry though, and I’m afraid my neck may be too thick.”  I took it from her hand, and swung it open.  I placed it around my neck, not expecting it to fit at all, but oddly enough it did quite well.  It clasped by itself.  Instinctual panic suddenly gripped me, and I quickly tried to unclasp it.  I could easily enough, so I reclasped, satisfied that I could get it off.  I waited anxiously while she rummaged through her desk.

 

“Found it.” She looked up, and gasped.

 

“What?”  I said, disturbed by her reaction.  “What?  Do I look like a warthog?!  What?!”

 

She laughed. “No, look!”

 

I took the mirror and looked at my face.  My skin was pure white, and my eyes were a pale red.  “Whoa!” I shouted, and then broke into a grin.  “I look like a ghost!”  We both broke into laugher.  “Perfect!”  I admired my new features in the small mirror.  I then looked up at her and grinned.  “Wanna have some fun with this?”

 

She looked at me mischievously.  “How?”

 

“Oh, I dono.  How much trouble could an insanely beautiful young lady and a ghost get into, eh?”

 

She grinned.  “Oh, I do adore trouble.”

 


Chapter 9 - A Little Bit of Vandalism

 

- Lytha: Who is He? - Day 7: 10:00am

 

I was still on the floor, beneath the table. The man had left the house, and had said that he would deliver the letter to Nightfall. And he had said that Nightfall had sent him. This did not make any sense. I did not know Nightfall, and most important, I did not know this man. And I did not know anything about his motives to get me here. I had to figure out who he was, what his motives might have been, and if he was indeed a thief, like me. I stumbled to my feet, and tried to ignore the scared, childish voice in my head that cried in its fear.

 

When I took my first step, I couldn't keep my balance. I tried to brace myself against the table, but I fell on my face. Some of the paper fell down, too. Sitting amongst the papers, I pressed my hands against my forehead. The headache was horrific, and also the loud laughter of the malevolent voices. The two dead monstrous Thalias appeared shortly in my view. "Just go away, damn it!" Another voice in my head -- my own. Great, I was already shouting at myself in my head now. But somehow, it worked. The Thalias still stared at me, but they were silent for now. I closed my eyes, and stumbled to my feet, again. This time I managed it to stay upright, and I moved slowly to the shelves at the wall.

 

It had many papers on it. One was a letter, addressed to someone called "Ghost." I reached out to get it, but I was already shaking because of the strain. I stumbled, and hit the shelf with my head. More papers went to the floor, and also some books. I sat down, and searched for the letter in the scattered paper sheets. I found it, and read it immediately.

 

Ghost,

 

Surely have you already heard of the Star of Alarus. I am certain that it can be found in the Catacombs of this Alarus family. I have also heard that this place is haunted, but you know how fast rumors are spread. And now I am looking for someone who is not easy to scare. And somehow I had immediately thought of you. So, do you want to go and get it? The price for it is high.

 

Ragbert

 

It had also a small paper attached to it, where someone had made some notes about the details of the job.

 

I searched a little more, and found similar job offers. I took some of them, and put them into the remains of my pocket. If they were only a fake, it was a very well done fake. I concluded that the name of the man was "Ghost", and that I should find out more about that. But first of all, I had to get out of here.

I got up and moaned because of the pain and the short attack of dizziness. I leaned against the shelf, to wait until the dizziness had gone away. The shelf shook, and more papers fell to the floor. I stumbled towards the door. It was locked.

 

Locked. Locked! I could feel that I was going to get into a panic. I beat against the door, shook the doorknob. I could hear my heart beating in my ears. It was a very stable door. There was no chance to break it open. Nevertheless, I threw myself against it, ignoring the pain in my body. I hit my hands against the door, and sunk down to the floor, almost crying. My head was in a chaos.

 

"Run! Run away!"

 

"Yes, of course. I will run away. But how?"

 

"I Hope He Will Go and Bring some Hammerites. You Bastard!"

 

"Run! He will bring the other one! The one with the teeth! Run! The one who -- "

 

"Or He will bring this Nightfall. And he will smite you with his Magik. Wouldn't Thisss be pleasing?!"

 

"Just calm down. All of you. Just -- "

 

"RUN!!!"

 

I was shaking. Out. Yes, out. Away. Why had he locked the door? Out.

 

I looked around. The windows were small -- too small to get out. Was there a trapdoor? Every thief would have a trapdoor. I rushed to my feet and hurried as fast as I could to the couch and tried to move it. There was nothing under it. I looked at the table. Some porcelain fell down and broke.  There was nothing under the table. I leaned forward into the fireplace -- nothing. I moved the things on the top of the fireplace. More fell and broke – still nothing.

 

When I tried to reach the shelves, I staggered and fell onto some pieces. One of them hurt my mistreated right arm, and it started bleeding again. I fumbled the piece out off the wound, and stared at the blood. It bled on the carpet. I tried to stop the bleeding with a piece of my torn clothes. The wound was not very deep, so I managed to make it stop.

 

This short break had calmed me down, a little. I had found some evidence, or at least some well-faked letters. Hammerites would never fake something to press confessions out of someone, so they were probably true. I had some of them. As long as he wouldn't force me to empty my pockets, I had something against him in my hands.

 

I was still shaking. The room was too small to be locked inside of it. Now, when I had calmed down a little, I felt the pain again, in my entire body, in my other wounds, and now in this additional fresh one, with the cold sharp pain. Luckily it had stopped bleeding. I crawled to the corner beneath the fireplace, and squeezed myself into it. I drew my legs to my chest, and embraced them. The headache started again -- so did the ranting voices. I closed my eyes, and tried to ignore them.

 

 

- Ghost: All I Wanna Do is Have Some Fun - Day 7: 10:00am

 

I really wasn’t thinking about that money anymore, nor was I thinking of Lytha back home. The past few days had been utter hell, and I was looking forward to at least a few hours of pure fun and mischief. Sheam and I strolled a few blocks down to the Rusty Lantern Inn, owned by Lord Zeppher, a merchant and landowner who was decisively fat. It was a simple setup, front of the place faced the road, ally to the right, the next shop to the left. We could not have looked any more innocent as we strolled down the ally, and climbed up the fire escape.

 

"So what are you planning?" She said, grinning.

 

"Hm, not sure. I suppose we'll rob the place blind, bash it up a bit, and scare a few dozen guards shitless."

 

She laughed, and said in a very ditzy voice, "Oh dear, Mr. Thief, and what would a poor defenseless tagalong like me be doing?" She fingered the circlet and winked.

 

I grinned broadly. "Diversions are good."

 

I had always worked alone before. Then again, the stakes had never been lower. I knew this guy only hired local riffraff, who would sooner take a bribe than turn us in, even if we were caught. Even then, I trusted my combat skills, and a guard wouldn't dare harm her when they could just stare at her and gawk.

 

In no time flat, we were in through the window, and looking around in a vacant guest room. I quickly checked around, searching for any goodies. I heard a crash, and I quickly turned around, shocked to see Sheam dumping things out of the window!

 

After I stopped laughing, I said, "What are you doing?"

 

"Vandalizing!" she said, gleefully.

 

I grinned and just looked at her as she emptied the contents of the night stand onto the street below. "So," I said finally, "How did someone like you end up with a secretary’s job; especially for this Nightfall character?"

 

She shrugged, "Just lucky I guess." The she paused, her mood a bit changed. "Before I worked for him I was a barmaid, or wench as they liked to call me. It was the only job I could get. I tried to get better ones, believe me, but It was either that or be a servant for a rich lord and risk being molested. At least as a barmaid, I was able to fight back and not have to worry about being thrown into jail."

 

I grunted sympathetically. She went on.

 

"Well, one day my boss caught me reading on the job. For some reason he thought that it was unsightly for a wench to be doing something intelligent when there were patrons to flirt with, and I was fired. Pretty much then and there I was blacklisted from any bartending or waitress positions."

 

"Blacklisted from being a barmaid? That's a new one." I remarked.

 

She gave a little laugh. "Well it was back to the streets for me. I was squatting in an abandoned shack in the slums when he found me. Nightfall, I mean. He saw me in there, book in hand. Honestly, when I saw him in my doorway I was scared stiff. I thought for sure he was a Keeper. When I was young I remember reading tales about them, and was always frightened and fascinated by them. When I saw this shadowy person right in front of me, I was sure that this was one.

 

"Hum, Keepers, I heard of them once or twice. I don’t believe in ‘em."

 

Her smile returned. "Daneel says they exist."

 

"Daneel? Who’s that?"

 

"Huh? Oh, Master Nightfall."

 

"Ah yes, I remember you called him that before."

 

She nodded. "Say, what is your real name anyway?"

 

I shook my head. "Ghost."

 

"Is that the name your mother gave you?" she said with a laugh.

 

"It’s the name I gave me," I said with a grin. "You were saying?"

 

"Hmm?"

 

"Nightfall, in your home?"

 

"Oh yes. Well, to my relief, he was very friendly. We chatted for a while, and when he was done he offered me a job in the library at The Circle. After working there for about a week, he upgraded me to secretary and aide. That was pretty much that."

 

"Just like that?"

 

"Just like that."

 

"Weird guy. So what’s it like workin' there? Is the pay good?"

 

"Pay is all I could ask for. I live in the lap of luxury, servants provide plenty of food, and have a job that lets me do all the reading and writing I could ever want. Have you seen the library at The Circle? It’s huge!"

 

"Heh, I’ll bet! So you’re livin' the good life now, eh?"

 

She nodded.

 

"How does a guy like that make it so rich? I always thought you had to be a brute and a hardass to make your way to the top. All these lords and barons and what-have-you are all just total jerks!"

 

"I don’t know," she said shrugging. "He came about three months ago, right after that incident downtown. Remember how the old Hammer temple was destroyed by monsters?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Well, he came a little after that. I don’t know where his wealth came from, or how it sustains itself. I do know, though, that he doesn't hold very high value on money. I guess the saying about the more you have, the less it's worth, is true. Oh, you know his home in the mountains? It wasn't there before he came. It just seemed to grow up overnight. He doesn't own The Circle, he's renting it, but the repairs and redecoration he has done to it would have put most noblemen into years of debt."

 

"Must be nice..." Hmm, I was seriously considering working for this guy more often.

 

"He’s great to work with. Even though he's very distant and private, he's very personal and friendly. He always makes me feel like we're standing on equal ground."

 

I nodded, "Yeah, I know. So is there anything wrong with this guy? Mr. Perfect eh?"

 

She laughed, "Well, he can be very detached sometimes -- cold, you know;  indifferent. If he sees suffering, he will usually ignore it. If they come to him, though, he will be sure they are satisfied. He likes that in people -- initiative. He says that if someone has too much pride or fear to ask for help, then they do not need it. As much as he does for people, I sometimes get the feeling that he is doing it for some hidden agenda, and not truly to be nice. However I doubt it matters, except in the long run, of course. Also, if he doesn’t like you, he won’t exactly hide it." She stopped and smiled, shaking her head. "Poor Jossimer; he never can please the master."

 

She paused, considering. "He’s dangerous though, to his enemies at least. We don’t know much about his past, only that he has been in several wars. He was a general in the last one, I think. But that was many years ago, in a very far away place. That’s really all I know about it." She took a deep breath, and continued, slowly. "I’ve heard he practices magic, or used to, but I’ve never seen it, or heard him mention it. I’ve seen him angry before, enraged. He was ruthless. It was with good cause too but, my, one doesn’t expect things like that from people who do the things that he does."

 

"Why? What did he do?"

 

She hesitated. "I don’t know details. All I know was that the offender was a type of person he had absolutely no tolerance for. Most cruel men still have shreds of good in them, but there are some that don’t. Nightfall will smite, as he calls it, them without hesitation."

 

"Nice guy," I said, half-sincere, half-sarcastic.

 

She smiled. "He is." Then she frowned. "Oh now I feel bad. I shouldn't have said all those horrible things about him! He's a dear and an angel and I trust him with my life," she said with a prideful grin. "Forget all that other nasty stuff."

 

I looked at her like she was insane, but laughed anyway, humoring her. "Oh of course, whatever you say, Sheam."

 

I checked around the room, to see if we had missed anything. With the exception of the bed and the wardrobe, everything in the room was now on the street. "Alrighty, Sheam, lets get down to business. I’m betting all the guards are in the bar, up front, save one in the back, who is probably bored stiff."

"Lets get the guy in the back first," she said with a grin.

 

We casually walked out the door and down the hall. Once downstairs, we crept carefully around to the back room. We could hear the guards up front laughing and carrying on. I peeked into the back room door, and saw the guard, sitting on a stool, head down. He seemed to be singing to himself.

 

"Dum de dump de dum de da da, de dat de da de dada, dum dum de dumdidy dum!"

 

The room was packed full of supplies for the bar and inn. Crates and boxes lined all the walls to the ceiling. I knew a safe had to be in here too. I motioned to Sheam to be very quiet, and watch. I took the circlet from her hand, and clasped it around my neck. I didn’t feel a thing, but I checked the skin on my wrist, pulling the glove out of the way. I was good to go.

 

"Dum de dat de de dada. da de dat de da de da, if I only hada brain! Heh he heh…"

 

I snuck around the perimeter of the room, taking greater care to remain utterly silent then stay in any shadows. There were none to speak of anyway. The guard grunted, and shifted his view across the side of the room opposite from where I stood. I kept moving. Finally I was behind him. I crept up slowly, then tapped his shoulder suddenly.

 

He turned around with a startled jerk.

 

"BOO!!"

 

"AAAHHHHH!!"  He screamed and fell out of his chair. He then passed out.

 

I laughed so hard I nearly threw up. Sheam was rolling on the floor, laughing hysterically. I had to fight to catch my breath.

 

"Oh man, that worked better than I thought," I said, between fits of laughter. I took off the circlet and looked at it. "Oh damn, I LOVE this thing!!" My eyes darted around. "Anything here to steal?" She pointed to a safe on the wall, and then to the key on the guards belt. "Oh, this is too easy."

 

So Sheam and I had laughed ourselves silly, and split three hundred gold between the two of us. I was totally content. "My turn!" She suddenly shouted, and grabbed the circlet. "I’m gonna go have fun with the slugs up front."

 

With no desire to protest, I followed. After a quick stroll through a few halls, we peaked into the main tavern chamber, where three guards were seated, all totally drunk.

 

Hic! Hey Larry! Paz me somo dat shit."

 

Larry passed a large keg, and proceeded to dump the contents on the table. The first guy took a drink of empty air.

 

Hic!  Well whaddya know – hic -- it does taste better da more ya drink!" He took another swig of air.

 

"Damn man, don’t take alla that shit!"

 

"I ain’t takin alla dis shit!"

 

"Yes you is!"

 

"Shuddup about shit man!" He belched loudly, and then lowered his voice, leaning forward as if to share some wisdom, "You ever tasted real shit?"

 

"Shit yeah I tasted shit!" Larry shouted.

 

"Whad it taste like?"

 

"It tasted like shit; what else is shit gonna taste like?"

 

"Umm.. I dunno… "

 

"Hell, one time I went three weeks without takin a shit!"

 

"No shit?"

 

"No shit, no shit!"

 

"Sheeeiittt!!"

 

Sheam looked at me. I wasn’t sure if she was totally disgusted or about to break into laugher. "I’ve worked at a bar for seven years, and I have never heard that conversation before."

 

I laughed under my breath. "No shit?" I said jokingly.

 

She gave me a sharp nudge with her elbow, and grinned. She took the circlet from my hand, winking. "You may want to cover your eyes until I’m out of arms reach," she said with a grin.

 

I closed one eye, and left the other one open a hair. Unfortunately she turned around right before she put it on, and all I got to see was her hair change from dirty blond to bright gold. She walked out into the bar.

 

"Hey there boys!" She shouted, as they started hooting and hollering when they saw her. One of them got up and motioned to grab her, and she let fly a kick that sent him staggering away! The other two laughed like mad, which didn’t last long, because she took them by the hair, and smacked their heads into the table! The first one got back up, raving like a lunatic, and charged her! She leapt up and whipped her shoe across his cheek, sending him flying in my direction. I caught the guy, turned him to face me, and screamed into his face at the top of my lungs. He screamed back, half because he was startled, half because he was so incredibly drunk! I then threw him back at Sheam, and she finished him off with a sock to the back of his head. But then the other two started to wake up! She grabbed one of them by the scruff of the neck, dragged him over to the bar, flung him OVER the bar, and into the rows of bottles and glasses. She then took the third guy in the same manor, and used his head to break the table clean in half, dropping him to the floor when she was done. She dusted herself off, and removed the circlet. She hadn’t even broken into a sweat. All I could do was applaud!

 

"Thank you, thank you." She grinned, taking a dramatic bow. "You can tell, I’ve wanted to do that so badly all my life. Filthy bar scum!" She stretched her back, legs, and arms, so utterly satisfied.

 

"Now where did a delicate creature like you learn how to fight like that?"

 

"Like that? Heh, that was nothing. They were so drunk a child could have done the same."

 

"You um, you didn’t really need that thing, did you." I had thought that she was going to use it to distract them with her looks, but it seems I was wrong."

 

"No, I just wanted it to get stuck in their heads that they were beat silly by a striking young lass." She grinned. "They’ll never think of wenches the same way again!"

 

"That is, if they remember any of this when they wake up!" I said, laughing.

 

"Oh, drat, true. Ah well, I still enjoyed it." She kicked the one who broke the table.

 

"So who trained you?"

 

"Nightfall did, but he told me to never give him credit. Oh, oops."

 

I shook my head, amazed. "Say, grab a bottle off that shelf. I owe you a drink."

 

She sat down next to me, and kicked my shin. "You do it, I ain’t yer barmaid!" she said with a laugh.

 

Complying, I fetched a tall bottle of imported wine, and two glasses. "Hey, if it’s on the house, may as well cut to the top, eh?"

 

"But of course!" She sipped her wine.

 

"So, " I said, "What else did Nightfall teach you?"

 

"Well, martial arts, of course. I never was very thrilled with sneaking around, it just doesn’t sit right with me. I can kick-box, like you saw. That’s the only unarmed combat I do. Fencing, of course. Quarterstaff was the first thing I learned -- bows as well, though I never really got the hang of it. Someone else is teaching me right now different languages. I've always loved to read, so I've always known a bit more then the average person. Most of the stuff I’ve learned while working for Nightfall has not come from him, per se, but from cataloging the stuff in the Circle, and reading the books there."

 

Hmm... she was peaking my curiosity. "Not to be nosy, but this Nightfall sounds very, interesting. Is there anything else you can tell me about him?"

She cleared her throat. "Not much to tell, really. He’s extremely private and secretive. I have full access to The Circle, but have only seen a fraction of the interior of his tower."

 

Time to let fly the question I had been pondering. "So, why did Nightfall want Lytha rescued anyway? I mean, she’s never met him! What does he want with her?"

 

She shook her head. "I can’t speak for him. Knowing him, I doubt that he truly wants anything from her. I’ve never known him to really want anything from anyone, in the way you are thinking of. My best guess would be that he heard that she was wrongfully convicted, and saw the need to save her life."

 

I was truly stunned. "You mean, he risked my life to save someone who wasn’t even important?"

 

"Not at all. He hired you. You didn’t have to take the job, but the price was right and you did."

 

She was right of course. "Hmmm," I said. "I had better be getting back home."

 

"Yes, and my break was over an hour ago," She said with a grin. "It was a pleasure getting to know you, Mr. Ghost. I know I’ll be seeing you again soon."

 

"Indeed!"

 

At that, we left through the front door, and went on our separate ways. No doubt when the owner gets home, the guards will all be flogged for getting drunk, getting into a fight, and then passing out. I wondered which one he would accuse of stealing the cash out of the safe. "I saw a ghost!" the guard in the back room would say, and my wouldn’t there be fun then. Ahh, the beauty of a job well done! I went home amused, relaxed, and slightly richer than I had been several hours ago. Hopefully Lytha wouldn’t rain on my good day.

 

Then I remembered the letter! I hadn’t given it to Sheam to take to Nightfall! Damn. Oh well, I had gotten a little more information on why he rescued her. I’m sure she would be happy for just that.

 

I decided that since I had a decent heap of spare cash in my pocket, I should treat Lytha to a good meal. I was sure she hadn't eaten well in quite some time, and I knew there wasn't much food at my place, so I stopped at a corner market and grabbed some goodies for us to munch on. It was getting late. I hadn't meant to leave her alone so long. I was starting to feel guilty about goofing off with Sheam, even though we had a lot of fun doing it.

 

Returning home, I found a note stuck to the door.

 

"The Hammerites are having a major meeting at the main Temple in town tomorrow night… Perhaps you should go pay them a visit.”

 

It was signed "The woman in the alley." Oh great, her again. If there is one thing I hate about this business, it’s that no one uses names. Well she said that I needed to save Ragbert, and I didn’t manage to do that, so I guess this is her idea of a good vengeance for me. The idea wasn’t half bad.

 

Turning the key in the lock of my door, it clicked unlocked. I was ready to invite Lytha to a good meal, but instead what I saw stripped off any good mood I had left.

 

"What the hell? What did you do to my house?" was all I could say (scream was more like it,) as I dropped the bag of food on the table and slammed the door. It looked like the Hammers had come in looking for me, except that most of the furniture was still unbroken, but moved, and papers and junk were everywhere. My rage died down and turned into sympathy quickly when I spotted her. She was curled up in the corner with her knees brought up to her face, shaking and crying. Yelling at her wasn't helping at this point. She looked nothing short of psychotic, her clothes were in tatters, her red hair was looking pretty wild and her green eyes were red from not sleeping and crying. Hey, more green eyes. If staring could kill someone those green eyes would have killed me. She had had some kind of breakdown and from the looks of it I was probably responsible. I walked over slowly, took her hand and knelt down in front of her.

 

"You okay?"

 

She nodded slightly -- a good sign. She was bleeding again, her right arm had opened up, and she looked like hell. Maybe I should have gotten her some health potion after all. Maybe Sheam would give me a flask on the house.

 

"You need to eat something so you can start to get better. Can you walk to the couch?"

 

She nodded again and started to try to stand. She was too weak to be really mobile so I helped her to the couch, once I put it back where it was supposed to be.

 

"It's no wonder you're too weak to move, it must have drained you to destroy my house like this," I grinned, hoping the cheerfulness would get a response out of her, but it only seemed to confuse her. I helped her to the couch and set out the food. It wasn't much, just some chicken and some fresh veggies, but it was more than she’s seen in days. Lytha just looked at it, strangely uninterested. Maybe she was still too mad at me to eat.

 

"At least eat a little. If you feel like eating a lot you can do that too."

 

She seemed to smile a little and grabbed a carrot. We ate in relative silence. She put down more than I thought she would, which was good. She broke the silence with something that caught me off guard.

 

"Ghost..."

 


Chapter 10 - A Coming Together, and a Ripping Apart

 

- Lytha: Dinner for Two - Day 7: 8:00pm

 

I hoped that he had not felt the papers in my pocket when he had brought me to the couch. He seemed like he cared about me, but I was still not sure about his intentions. The childish voice tried to tell me that he had, of course, really bad motivations, but his next questions interrupted the shouting inside my head.

 

"It's no wonder you're too weak to move, it must have drained you to destroy my house like this," he said.  I have no idea what he meant by that.  He smiled widely at me, which only served to make me grow tense.  He offered some of the food to me.  I tried not to look at it.  I waited for a voice in my head to tell me that it was poisoned, or something ever more horrid, but the voice never came.

 

"At least eat a little. If you feel like eating a lot you can do that too."

 

I didn’t want his food.  I didn’t trust him and I didn’t trust his food.  Fortunately, I suppose, the instinct for survival outweighs paranoia, and eventually I gave in to the extreme hunger I felt.  I grabbed a carrot.  It was the easiest to get into my mouth.

 

He began to eat the meat.  It looked like it was some type of bird.  Strange, it was already cooked when he got here.   He must not be as poor as this shelter made him seem, to afford a service like that.  I finished my carrot, and began to take other vegetables.  He ate slowly, and wasn’t looking at me.  What was his name again?  I couldn’t remember.  Somehow I felt it was important.  What was it?  “Ghost…” I suddenly whispered, remembering.

 

He looked up suddenly.  “What…? How do you know my name?”

 

I was silent.  I put down the piece of fruit I was eating, having lost my appetite.

 

"Why were you in there?  Prison." he asked, after a pause.

 

I was not sure if this was not another trick of the Hammerites, to get more confessions out off me. I tried to change the subject of our conversation. "Nightfall wanted you to get me out… But why…? I don't even know him."

 

"I'm as curious to why as you are. Maybe if I knew why you were in there we could figure it out."

 

This was surely only a trick. I refused to know anything. Of course I remembered my expedition to the hunting lodge very well, but I did not intend to confess more than they already knew. "I... I don't know why..."

 

But he insisted. "What was the last thing you were doing? That you remember?"

 

Telling him about my last expedition was definitely not a good idea. But I heard myself already talk about it, and couldn't stop myself from doing this. "I was in that lodge. In the woods, in the north... and then they came." The memory of the pain as the crossbow bolt had hit me in the shoulder and as they had kicked me, struck me. I tried to forget, and made a fist. Before the voices could continue to shout at me, he asked the next question.

 

"Sounds like you were in the wrong place at the wrong time... or they followed you there. Was it a Hammerite lodge?"

 

"No, it belongs to this rich lady. No Hammer lodge. But I -- " I stopped. Telling him about my plans for the break into the Hammerite Temple would indeed be a very bad idea. My intentions for the lodge's burglary had been simple: I needed gold for equipment. I wanted to pay them back what they had done to Thalia, while she was arrested. I tried to nurse her back to health. Seeing her scared face every day had increased my hate against the Order of the Hammer to an insanely high level. The avenging had still to be done. "Don't be silly and throw the chance for revenge away through talking about it. Just shut up about this."  Those were my own thoughts in the chaos inside my head.

 

He sat cross legged on the couch, and looked at me. The long pause seemed to have made him very curious. "But what?"

 

"Nothing," was the only answer that came into my mind. "Don't say anything! You are still not sure if he is no Hammer spy!" I looked nervously down to my hands. But once again my lips were faster than my mind. "I have no idea what the Hammers wanted there. It was just a lodge. Just a small tidy hunting lodge." Something inside me seemed to trust him. He had a very friendly face.

 

"What were you doing there? Was it your lodge?"

 

"No. I live in Newmarket. At least I lived there. I doubt I can go back there now." I was sure that I had told them where I lived. The Hammerites would search for me there in the first place. No chance to go home, now.

 

"Yes, the Hammers had a note about who you are... They will be looking for you -- and probably for me, too."

 

For him, too? Another part of me decided that it wanted to trust him. I relaxed a little more. I tried to tell him more. "I fear I told them more than I wanted. And I can't remember what I told them; but definitely far too much." I hesitated a moment.

 

"Okay. You said you lived in Newmarket and that you can't go back... Do you have any family in the area?"

 

"Just as she -- " We had spoken at the same time. I looked up, irritated, and answered his question first. "No. I have no family any more."

 

"She who?" he asked.

 

"She. My sister. Thalia. But she is dead now."

 

Yes; Thalia was dead. She had died some days ago -- or weeks? Counting the time was difficult now. I had cared for her, after she had been released from the Hammerite prison. They had arrested her a few years ago, because they distrusted everything that they couldn't easily control.  They could not control the criminals, and they could not control the telepaths. And that's what was wrong with Thalia. She was both.

 

We had a lot of fun with her telepathic abilities, when we were young. Yes, those were happy days, before we learned that this was not normal and that others hated her for it. We stopped playing with it soon after, before we had figured out if I too could do it myself. I was sure that I could not. I did not want to have that ability. It caused only pain, threat, and loneliness. I had seen it, when it happened to Thalia. And I was very good at denying possible facts. So, I was sure that I had absolutely no telepathic abilities.

 

I had tried to help her in the last month. The goal of my last few burglaries had been simply for her survival. I had failed. And she was dead. I had given her a burial, but that was far too little. So, I had developed my plan to pay back to the Hammerites. I had already got myself some maps of the most important Hammerite temples, and I had spied around the places a little. The revenge had still to be carried out.  Maybe I could stop the voices in my head in that way. And maybe I could stop my self hate that way.  Trying to forget my feelings of guilt about my sister's death, I stared into the nothing.

 

"What did you do over in Newmarket?" his question brought me back to reality.

 

"I -- " I hesitated, but remembered what I knew already about him. He was a thief, same as me. I continued. "I had a job similar to yours, I think."

 

"It seems to be a popular job these days. You're either a rich old bastard, or trying to rob them," he said, laughing.

 

I smiled wanly. "Yes... the rich old bastards were my most preferred targets, indeed. They have too much, you know."

 

"Yes, I know. But I'm trying to change all that." He was still laughing.

 

"Popular job... indeed. But what else could you do? Working in the guild of seamstresses?" I tried to make a joke, myself. Some part of me stood beside myself and watched my relaxed face with anger, fear, and hate. But I managed another smile.

 

Then he said, still laughing: "I could be a Hammer guard... 'Thou there, stopeth thee thisith instantith!' "

 

"What? And you trusted him?"

 

"He Is a Hammer! As I told you! You never listen!"

 

The fear and mistrust was back, and I stared at him, frozen in fear.

 

"I'm sorry. It was inappropriate," he said, as he realized my pain.

 

"He will bring you back to them" cried the childish voice, filled with pure fear.

 

"And You Would Deserve It. Of Course. But You Could Prevent It. You Know How? Attack Him. No Matter How. Attack Him! Get Out!"

 

"Shut up. Both of you! I want silence in my head! Give me time to think, damn it!"

 

I still stared at him -- probably very aggressively. "Are you one?"

 

"No... I don't like them any more than you do," he said, slowly. He seemed to be scared by the fact how aggressive the thought made me.

 

I tried to relax again. But I kept watching everything very attentively. He would never betray me.

 

"You probably don't remember, but several of them died on the way out of the prison. I'm sure they aren't too happy with me," he continued.

 

"I don't remember. There was this terrible numbness. And those voices -- " I said, but stopped immediately when the voices shouted at me to stop telling him about them. I glanced nervously at him, but he seemed to be happy that I had broken my silence. He ignored the fact that I stopped in the middle of the sentence.

 

"I'm not surprised. You didn't even complain when you fell on the floor." He was much more relaxed, and started smiling, again.

 

I smiled briefly, myself. "Didn't I?" I felt tired after the dinner, and yawned behind my hands.

 

"No. You were a good escapee."

 

"Oh well. At least that’s one good thing about me." I said.

 

After that, we went to bed. Despite my tiredness and the knowledge that I really needed more rest, to feel better tomorrow, I couldn't fall asleep. I still heard the voices, and tried to make them silent. But it didn't work very well. My head hurt again. In addition to the ranting voices, I remembered more of the last few days. I remembered that I had probably given the Hammerites the names of almost everyone I knew. I thought about it. I should eliminate any records of that. And I should eliminate the witnesses and the Inquisitor. I could not let them arrest everyone, only because I had given the Hammerites some suspicious circumstantial knowledge about them. I wouldn’t -- and not because I owed them something; no, some of them were my friends. Friends were rare for me, but I had one or two. I couldn't let happen what I predicted.

 

I rolled to my left side, hoping to feel comfy in my usual sleeping position. I moaned as I felt the pain in my left side. I rolled to my back. The voices came again, and the thoughts. I rolled to my other side.

 

After some hours, I had still not closed my eyes. But I had a raw plan for a possible solution, to be carried out as soon as could be. I turned again, restless in the bed.

 

 

- Jyre: A Goodbye - Day 7: 8:00pm

 

I laid his body in the shallow hole I had managed to scrape out of the hard, dry soil, crossing his arms over his chest and gently closing his eyes. Dirt from my fingers now marred his smooth skin. It seemed out of place somehow. Odd, considering I was about to cover him in the stuff. I watched him for a while, remembering our short time together. Then I scraped the dirt over him and lay a single white flower on his grave. Some would have said prayers at this point, or asked their god why. I had no need of such things. You learn things quickly growing up on the streets. There were no gods, only yourself and the people around you. What you got from life you were either born to or you worked for it. When it was your time to die, nothing would prevent it. Still, I felt the need to say something.  I remembered a prayer Aulden once said at a funeral.  "Nature takes your body now as once it gave it to you. Your life did bud, grow, and come to flower. Now it will fall to the ground to merge with earth and sprout new growth. When the bud forms anew you will find new places, see new faces and experience new things. May fate smile fondly on your transition." I stood and watched the sunset as I remembered the time when he had told me of his belief. There were no gods involved here, no strange otherworldly beings with unknown intent, just nature taking its course as it did with all life. I smiled as I thought that. There weren't many things we had shared but such a belief had been one of them. "Sleep well," I whispered, fighting back the tears.  I turned for the city once more.

 

 

- Nightfall: Personal Log, 9.12 - Day 7: 11:00pm

 

"Okay, so they found Private Ranthos stuck up in a tree today, and Private Christopher was just gone.  The two poor saps went out scouting, and next thing we knew, Ranthos was holding on for dear life to a small branch on a large oak, screaming like a banshee.  How did they get him down?  They chopped the tree, of course!  Poor fella, that must have hurt.  He’ll be limping for quite some time.  Anyway, he said a dark spirit leapt out of the tree, grabbed him and Christopher, flew up, and dropped him, but not his friend.  They just carried him off.  After the tree came down, they burned it.  Typical.

 

"The morons thought it was a tree spirit.  I’ve got news for them -- If it was a tree spirit, then I bet it would have crushed him.  All those tangle vines would have grabbed onto his little mansie flesh and smashed his ribsie-cage.  No, it picked him up and dropped him -- the tree wasn’t the suspect.  It’s a beast.  Wouldn’t be surprised if it were the same beast, or beasts, that were responsible for the tree falling on the bulldozer, or the missing hammers.  Must be a mongbat.  Damn, I hate mongbats.  I used to kill them for sport – no, not even for sport, just because I hated them so much.  I’ve visited so many different lands across so many different realms, and none seems to be free of the scum.  I mean, hell, if some whacked out deity was going to create a beast, why the hell did he have to combine a monkey and a bat?  As if a monkey and a rat were not nasty enough.  I swear those things are messed up.

 

"We have been at this for three days.  THREE DAYS.  I want to scream.  These pinheads could have been to the damn lodge, torn the place down, and been home by now, without their infernal machines!  Damn damn damnit damn dammmmmnnniiitttt!!!!  Sigh.  Wow, did this book just record all that?  One Damn will do.

 

"Ok, now I feel better.  I always hated camping.  I mean, I love the wilderness, it’s a great place to visit, but I do not want to live here.  It’s wet, hot, the insects are in season, and worst of all, I have to take my cloak off to be comfortable. Damnitallagain!!

 

"Okay, out with it Dan, why are you really so pissed off?  No one is reading your log but you, (until someday someone finds it and decides it needs to be published!  Ha!  That will be the day!) All right, out with it.  Okay.  Last Night, when I spoke to Cristen, in my dream, she warned me that she sensed much danger ahead.  She’s never wrong about these things.  She also said that in the direction I’m heading, the force of evil is so strong that her projection would not be able to reach me.  I fear that tonight she may not be able to contact me. 

 

"Okay, Richen has started to snore, so I may as well try and get some sleep.  Oh look, left over dinner.  Hmm... someone forgot to salt the fries…

 

"End Day’s entry."

 

 

- Nightfall: Thurm's Sermon - Day 8: 6:00am

 

Ahh, dawn.  The birds are singing, the flowers are opening, the huge metal monstrosity is churning away, ripping everything in its wake to shreds.  What a beautiful day!  Yes, as luck would have it, the repair crew had worked day and night, and not only rebuilt the broken machine, but enhanced it.  Now we had two again, and they were shredding wood like it was going out of style.  They even got the idea (geniuses), to employ the wrecking machines in the task of killing trees and widening the road.  Brother Thurm was back, and I gladly returned command to him.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier.  He even accepted my offer to ride with me in the carriage, in spite of the fact that it was driven by a beast!  “What have you to fear, Brother Thurm?  Surely if the emissary to the Master Builder trusts this beast, so should you!”  I was amazed, not only did he accept, but he even talked to Richen!

 

“So, my good sir, have you ever considered following the path of the Master Builder?”

 

Richen looked at him, and then glanced at me.  I knew he was thinking, “why the hell did you invite this guy to sit in the passenger seat?”  “Urm, well now that ya mention it, sir, well, can’t say ah ever did. Nope. Erm, not that I’m closed to it er anythin, it’s jus dat -- ”

 

Thurm looked at me, and then back to him, cutting him off.  “Do you mean to tell me, that Master Nightfall has never spoken to you of our ways?”

 

“Uh wellumm… ”

 

I interjected quickly.  “Oh indeed I have.  However Richen expressed his desire to investigate the matter personally, rather than be preached too.”  I grinned when I said it, hoping that Thurm would let it alone.  “I respected his wishes, as the Master Builder teaches us.  Respect between two men is a bridge cast in iron, nothing shall compromise it, as long as the two banks remain firm!”  Actually the word was trust, but I love to bend those things.

 

“Ahh, I see.  Good then!  I shall not preach to thee.  However I am sure that thou wouldst not be offended if I simply speak to thee!”

 

Oh brother.

 

“Oh well ser, actually ah think ‘twould be best if ah -- “

 

“You see, as Hammerite Compendium of Precepts, Regimens and Rules of Conduct, Vol. 108 teaches us, ‘Mortar cannot hold when the stone is not strong and clean.  Before beginning thy endeavors, look to thy material, both physical and spiritual.’  If thou art to begin your search for true faith beneath the Master Builder, thou must first cleanse thy mind off all previous false assumptions!  However thou shouldst not be wary to begin thy journey, for fear of error.  As Hammerite Compendium of Precepts, Regimens and Rules of Conduct, Vol. 113 teaches us, ‘A stroke of thy chisel, once made, canst not be undone, but a stroke thou dost not make from fear is a worse flaw.  Be not cautious -- be correct.’  All men have much potential within our order.  It is truly a sin for any man to not realize all that he truly can be!  As the Hammerite Compendium of Precepts, Regimens and Rules of Conduct, Vol. 12 teaches, ‘The Builder gave thou the raw stuff of thy life -- makest thou a great work of it or thou mockest His gifts.’  However, always remember, the Order of the Hammer is very strict in its rules of conduct.  We understand the difference between accident, mistake, and evil intent.  Who can forget Hammerite Compendium of Precepts, Regimens and Rules of Conduct,  Vol. 141, which gives the parable, ‘When the Builder came amongst his children and asked, ‘who is it that hath spoilt this work?,’ then didst his errant son answer ‘I do not know’.  Then didst the Builder cast down his son and smite him with his hammer.  For is it not known that a mistake may be mastered, but a lie lasteth forever on the tongue?’  As one of us, you shall be building a legacy for yourself that will span the ages!  As is written in Hammerite Compendium of Precepts, Regimens and Rules of Conduct, Vol. 170, ‘The proof of the wall is that it stretcheth above the height of a man, and lasteth beyond the span of a man. Our greatest works exceed us in all ways.’  The work you do as one of us is more than any simple commoner could ever dream of!  However one must be wary that thy accomplishments do not make thee vain.  Vanity, as all flaws, will cause any man’s downfall.  As Hammerite Compendium of Precepts, Regimens and Rules of Conduct, Vol. 199 dictates, ‘A flaw in the gear will fate it to shatter, a flaw in the beam harbors the termite, a flaw in a man's righteousness encompasses his death.’  Death, as many men believe, is the ultimate end.  For a man to die in the manor I discussed above, it truly is his end.  However for some men, who truly repent and worship the Master Builder, and follow his ways, shall live eternally with the Master Builder, in the great Metropolis of heaven.  The Book of the Hammer itself speaks of it!  ‘I stood before a tower, of planks and nails and stone carved with fire, and I said, surely my eyes behold a miracle, not meant for man, but the Builder smiled and spake, ‘I stand with my mind in Heaven but my feet upon the Earth, and so shall you and your kin.’ And I wept, though I knew not why.’  It is truly a place of unbridled glory, but to attain it, as I said before, one must repent!  It is not easy to truly repent in this way, most never do, but it is always possible, even for a thief!  As the Hammerite Compendium of Precepts, Regimens and Rules of Conduct, Vol. 2, says, and I quote, ‘When the thief did cry to the master, ‘release me, for I repent, and shall do good all my days,’ then did the master strike the thief's hand from him with a blade. And the master said, ‘go now and do good, for thy repentance has been paid.’ That man bore the punishment set down by the Master Builder, and his slate has been cleansed.  He may start anew!  However this does not mean that his path is any easier.  The path to righteousness is ever the struggle!  Those who try to make it otherwise shall surely fail!  As Hammerite Compendium of Precepts, Regimens and Rules of Conduct, Vol. 36 states, ‘Time once past, the harlot did say to the priest, ‘tarry a while, and wait upon thy duties,’ and the priest did tarry.  And then was the harlot scourged with birch branches, and was the priest crushed beneath the great gears, for the path of righteousness leads ever upwards, to where it is perilous to fall.’  Thou must be eternally vigilant if thou dost wish to live with the Master Builder for all eternity!   We hold the hammer in our hands as a symbol of our vigilance!  We never tire of its weight, nor do we pause in its use.  As Hammerite Compendium of Precepts, Regimens and Rules of Conduct, Vol. 39 commands us, ‘Hadst I a hammer, wouldst I hammer in the morning. Wouldst I hammer in the evening, all over this land.’  Thou must always take the tools which the Master Builder has granted thee, and use them, fearless of the danger!  As Hammerite Compendium of Precepts, Regimens and Rules of Conduct, Vol. 53 warns us, ‘To use thy chisel is to blunt its edge 'gainst the stone. To not use thy chisel is to waste its edge’!   Never waste anything the Master Builder has granted thee!  Thou must heedst the works of those that came before thee!  As Hammerite Compendium of Precepts, Regimens and Rules of Conduct, Vol. 7 clearly states, ‘When the Builder walks before thee and builds for thee a fortress, wilt thou go inside and shut the door? Or wilt thou say ‘Yes, and now I shalt raise one of mine own!’  Thou shalt build a tower, tall and sturdy -- a tower never falters, if the stonework is true.  It is ever vigilant, just as are we.  This that thou dost see around thee, it shall one day all be gone. Hammerite Compendium of Precepts, Regimens and Rules of Conduct, Vol. 77 tells us, ‘What is a tree but a tower that withers and dies?  What is a pond but a cistern that stagnates and fills with muck?  What is a patch of ground but a road which cracks and washes away?’  These are chaos, and chaos decays. By the words of the Book of the Hammer itself, ‘Dig your hands into the earth, and then let the clay and dirt fall to the ground. After a year's passing, can you find that clay again? But drop a stone block, a wooden beam, a fired brick. It will persist a year, and another hundred years beside!” There is no vigilance in chaos, no righteousness, no faith, and no trust.  Chaos is a disease that infects the world in which we live.  Heed the words of Hammerite Compendium of Precepts, Regimens and Rules of Conduct, Vol. 94, ‘Guard thy tongue from falsehood as thou gardest thy purse from a jackablade. Guard thy hand from misdeed as thou gardest thy house from firelighters. Guard thy heart from doubt as thou gardest thy tools from corrosion, for thy faith and thy tools are the best that thou hast.”

 

Richen just looked at him.  Thurm just looked back, finally finished.  After several moments, I spoke.

 

“Um, Brother Thurm, thy words were noble indeed, but I do indeed believe that you were preaching.”  

 

 

- James: Knowledge Gained - Day 8: 3:00pm

 

The day was spent, and much knowledge was gained.  Though it was still merely mid afternoon, I felt as if I had done a week’s worth of investigation in just a short few hours and now it was time to go home.  I would have liked to have rested when I got there, but I had a report to prepare.  My job never seemed finished.  I looked up to see storm clouds gathering, and noted that I had best make haste, or find some type of natural shelter.  A few moments walk on my tired limbs prompted me to investigate the possibilities of the 2nd option.  After all, I would be no good at writing if I was too tired to hold a pen.  Best to rest now while it rained, and have a clear mind for the journey home and the preparation of my report.  I looked about for something to turn into a shelter, but after visiting the remains of that villa, I was unsure if I would truly sleep.

 

 

- Nightfall: The Storm - Day 8: 3:00pm

 

There was something definitely very evil about the sudden thunderstorm that swept over us.   It was the middle of the afternoon, and the sky suddenly filled with dark clouds. Before long, it was as dark as night; a night without sunset.  The sky was filled with billowy blackness.  Our only light came from torches, and the thunderbolts which rippled incessantly across the sky.  When the rain came, it was a wall of dark rushing water, racing towards us, until finally we were engulfed in the fury of it.  The torches were extinguished, as were the fires powering the machines.  The task force came to a total halt, and soldier and worker alike dashed about, to preserve any equipment that might be damaged by the rain.

 

However the rain soon became the least of our worries, as several lightning bolts struck ground, bursting trees into flame.  The flames did not last long, but the force of the strike shattered the wood, hurling slivers of oak and pine, impaling anything that was not made of stone or metal.  Richen and I found shelter from the rain, lightning, and debris under the carriage.  Most of the Hammerites hid under the great machines.  May the Master Builder save them if the wheels should fail and it comes crashing down.

 

The storm had been raging for a good hour, when the true threat came.  The fiends which had been sabotaging the force all along made their appearance plainly.  A Hammerite with sharp eyes spotted them, about five dozen black specks in the sky.  They looked like oddly shaped birds.  It was not until the soldiers began to assume defensive positions that I noticed the new threat from above.  I recognized the sight almost immediately.  I was correct, they were mongbats, big ones.  I could tell that they were not passing through -- they were making a direct assault.  It was the last ditch effort by this Lady to stop the task force from destroying her lodge, no doubt.  Each of the beasties had a scimitar, and were beginning the attack dive. 

 

The Hammer captain ordered the men to take up defensive positions around the machines.  The rain was still very heavy, so it was hard to hear the shouts and the commands being issued.  Richen was growing restless, still oblivious as to what exactly was happening.  I told him, and he evinced both excitement and dread with a grimace.  He drew his short-blade and made ready to defend Suzy and the carriage.  I cursed myself for not brining along my longbow.  All I had to fight these monsters with was my quarterstaff.  I had never tried to fight airborne foe with that before.  It would be interesting. 

 

The lot of us looked up in anticipation, weapons wielded, watching the black shapes in the sky grow more and more defined.  A group of the soldiers raised their crossbows and simultaneously  fired.  Several of the creatures dropped, but overall the salvoes did little to stop them.  All at once, the creatures struck. Some ended their dives with a slash of their blade.  Other went into a suicide dive, blade extending forward to impale whatever they hit.  Others simply made landfall.  At that moment when the initial attack came, the majority of the damage to us they would do was done.  Many of the soldiers were maimed, or killed, as the long curved blades sliced through them.  Several dozen suicide bombers slammed themselves into the great machines, doing great damage to the delicate machinery, and shattering their bodies.  For several seconds thereafter, the air was filled with the deafening tones of monkey chatter, rain, and the screams of dying men. 

 

Our counterattack was swift and deadly.  As if unified by one massive force, all hammers struck mongbat flesh simultaneously.  The air that was once filled with mongbat chatter was now filled with their shrieks of agony.  Then, everything broke into a melee.  Our numbers were about equal at that point, but it did not stay that way.  Several of the Hammerites still standing were indeed slain, but the rest worked quickly to pound the beast attackers to a pulp.  Some mongbats tried to escape, but where made short work of by crossbow bolts.  About a dozen of the creatures channeled their attention towards myself, as if the Lady knew who I was and told them to make sure I was dead.  I did not attack them -- I waited for their approach.  One by one the foolish creatures dove at me, and each dive was met by a fell swing of my staff.  The party was cut short when five or so soldiers came to my aid, doing with their hammers, damage which I could not hope to do with a staff. 

 

Within minutes, the battle was over.  I cast my eyes about the scene, my gaze moving from corpse to corpse, Hammerite and mongbat alike.  Only about thirty of our initial group were left, but we, in all, slew more than seventy of the creatures.  It was still raining.  Remembering, I quickly went to Richen.  He was nursing a broken arm -- the horse was fine.  However my new carriage was destroyed.  I gave Richen a healing potion, which he took thankfully, and as soon as the magical fluid had mended his arm, he moved to inspect the horse to make sure she truly was fine. 

 

My next task was to find Brother Thurm.  I found him, standing in the middle of the battlefield, moving from soldier to soldier, healing wounds with his Hammerite magic.  I watched him work, laying his hand on the shoulder of the men, concentrating, and then moving on to the next.  No physical wounds were healed in this manor.  Some of these men would live out the rest of their lives with missing arms or legs, but their constitution was restored, and the pain was numbed.  When he was done with each, several surgeons took over, administering whatever treatment was needed to stop bleeding.  I watched in admiration of their efficiency, and  of the bravery of the wounded men.

 

I approached Brother Thurm. 

 

“Brother.”

 

He raised his downcast eyes at me.  “Yes, my friend?”

 

“Were the losses serious?” I asked, feigning ignorance. 

 

He shook his head.  “No, not serious.  Our force was only maimed, theirs was slaughtered.”  The gravity in his voice deepened.   “This Lady is no simple pagan.  She is a force to be reckoned with.  She is a fool to think that this feeble attempt to stop us will do any more than delay the inevitable.  Now we have our brothers and sons to avenge, and our justice shall be more severe.  Yes, more severe by tenfold.”  He moved away from me, to the machines.  All the workers were occupied tending to the wounded soldiers, so the broken hulks stood solitary in the dark rain.   He went up to one of the wrecking machines.  All the arms were broken and the steam engine cylinder was shattered.  Bits and parts of mongbat were strewn about, and the entire thing was coated by their blood.  He laid his hand on a place where the metal was still clean, and then bowed his head.  I turned to walk away, and let him be alone with his destroyed creations. 

 

“Daneel.”

 

That was the first time he had ever called me by my first name before.  “Yes, Thurm?”

 

He turned and looked at me.  The rain had died down slightly, so I could see his face.  He looked tired, and beaten.  The fire and enthusiasm were gone from his eyes.  “Is the beast -- the horse, alright?”

 

I was shocked that he showed concern.  “Yes, she is fine.”

 

He nodded.  “Good.”

 

I didn’t know what to make of it.  Maybe he found comfort in knowing that my creature was all right, even though his were dead.   I could have speculated, but I left him alone to mourn.

 

I walked back to Richen who was attempting to put the carriage back together.  The Hammers were beginning to stack the mongbat bodies into a heap for burning, and line up their fallen brothers for burial.   I was about to speak to Richen, when I heard a shout from a Hammerite soldier.  I looked over my shoulder, and standing at the end of the road was a group of Hammerites.  It was one of the scout groups, and from the looks of the direction from which they approached, they had come from the lodge. 

 

“Brother Thurm!  Captain!  Master Nightfall!” the party leader shouted.

 

I approached him, as did Thurm and the captain.

 

“Yes, lieutenant, what is it?  What have you to report?”

 

“Brother Thurm, we came immediately when we saw it.    We were almost complete with our patrol when we circled back to the lodge, and we found…”  The man hesitated.

 

“Yes, what is it?”

 

The Lieutenant told him.  The words he spoke filled me with dread.  Thurm’s eyes seemed to come back to life, but instead of with pride and excitement, they held anger, fear, and hatred.

 

“Take us to the… wreck.”  Thurm said, motioning for me to follow.  We left immediately.

 


Chapter 11 - Aftermaths

 

- Nightfall: Return to The Lodge - Day 9: 6:00pm

 

It was not a good feeling.  It was a horrifying sense of anticipation.

 

The storm decided to let up and cut us a little slack.  The rain slowed down to a drizzle.  A fog quickly rolled in, covering the view in an eerie mist.  The dark clouds slowly rolled away, opening the sky on the horizon so the light of the setting sun might touch us.  Rays of orange light cut through the mist, seeming to point us in the proper direction.  We did our best to work through the soaked underbrush, being wary of pits, puddles, or other hazards.  We moved quickly by foot.  Brother Thurm and the captain walked together.  The scouts walked up ahead with the lieutenant.  I took up the rear.  We traveled without a word, or even a glance at each other.  We all knew what we were about to see, and dreaded the thought.

 

The smell hit us with a sudden gust of wind.  It was the horrid smell of rancid meat.  Smells like that made you wish you didn't have a nose, or, at least, has a very bad cold.  The Hammerites winced in disgust, and tried to cover their noses with pieces of their uniforms.  I just slowed my breathing and pressed on.  After what seemed like hours, we finally made it to the lodge - or what was left of it.

 

Nothing could have prepared us for what we saw there.  The lieutenant could have described it in intricate detail, and we still would have been stunned.  The lodge, as described before, was gone.  In its place, was pure death.  I pity any soul not moved to sickness by the sight.  It was something I was, sadly, not unfamiliar with.  However I doubt my reaction would change should I see it a hundred times.

 

What was once wood and stone, was now flesh and bone.  The pentagram shaped lodge had transformed itself, to what was perhaps its nature all along - a house of rotting skin.  Bones tied tightly together into beams by vine formed the skeletal framework of the building, with pelts of skin, immediately recognizable as human, forming the walls.  Everywhere you looked you discovered new ways in which flesh and bones could be used as construction material, blood and organs included.  Some of the flesh was fresh, blood still gushing from it, but most was old and rotting.  My stomach begged my eyes to fall from the sight; hide from the ghastly images, but they could not.  The sight was far too overwhelming.  I felt a weakness in my knees, but stood firm, fighting off the sickness.

 

The construct was slowly falling apart.  With the Lady's magic gone, there was nothing left to hold the soft building material together, and gravity began to take its toll.  Thurm finally could take no more and turned his back on the sight, eyes cast downwards.  The lieutenant kept his eyes clearly away from the building, having no desire to look again.  The captain slowly walked towards it.  I could not see his face from where I stood.  I saw his head turn as he looked the structure over, his hand shaking as it gripped the hammer tighter and tighter.  Suddenly he let out a scream of rage.  He took two steps backwards, pulling his hammer high above his head, and charged.  As the Hammer came crashing down on a bone support beam, thrust with all his might, the wall shattered.  Bits of torn flesh, whipped away by the sudden release of tension, flew through the air.  He let out a deep sigh and turned to face us, his face specked with bits if blood.  His eyes were dark, and filled with tears.  He looked up into the sky, and proclaimed at the top of his lungs:  "Builder!  Guide thy servants righteously!  Bless us on this holy quest to rid thy earth of this evil!"  Then he was silent.

 

Eventually, the captain walked to Brother Thurm, who was still looking away.  The captain's eyes were clear now, almost calm.  "My Brother:  lead us."

 

Brother Thurm turned to face him.  He then glanced at me, and then to the wreck, quickly pulling his eyes away as if the sight pained him.  "Captain," he said finally, "summon thy men.  This creation must be obliterated.  The ground on which it doth stand must be sanctified."  Thurm's voice was shaking.  The captain nodded, and ordered a pair of the scouts to come with him.  Brother Thurm finally seemed to come to terms with what we had to deal with, and looked upon the structure, his eyes empty.  The lieutenant approached me.

 

 “Master Nightfall, thou art wise in the lore of the land.  What creature hath done this?”

 

I did not answer him at once.  I looked at the structure again, especially where The captain had attacked it.  I was in no mood to discuss my theories with the young officer.  I was too busy contemplating the implications of this situation.  The Lady was an extremely dangerous creature, and at large.  There had to be a way to determine where she fled to, but I feared that any trace of her departure was destroyed along with the lodge's previous manifestation.  Hopefully James would have some answers for me. 

 

“My Lord?” he said again. I sighed, and glanced at him to let him know I heard.

 

“The Order of the Vine,” I said simply, and then walked a few steps away from him, making it clear that I did not want to discuss it further.  After several moments I glanced back at Thurm.  I wondered when The captain would get back.

 

He was whispering to himself.  I could not hear the words.  It was a prayer no doubt.  I looked back up at the wreck.  The portion that the captain destroyed sagged, and soon another section crumbled as well.  Even without the help of the Hammerites, this thing would be nothing but debris within hours.  I didn't know which would be a worse fate for these people who went into the building's construction -- being smashed to bits by holy hammers, or simply rotting into the forest floor over time.  The woods were dead silent.  None of the usual forest background noises could be heard, not a bird or insect, not the rustle of leaves, not the sound of water dripping off foliage.

 

I was relieved when I saw something out of the corner of my eye.  At first I thought it may be the Hammerites, but disregarded that thought based on the direction from which it came.  It must have been an animal of some sort.  I took comfort in the thought that there was something alive here other then the trees and plants.  I seated myself, not really interested in looking at the wreck anymore, and waited patiently.

 

Eventually they came.  There was only a handful of soldiers left, possibly several dozen, and they were wet, tired, and wounded.  The captain lead what was left of the once-proud task force into the clearing, to where Thurm and I waited.  As the men saw the structure, their reactions were mixed.  Some were shocked, others sickened, others angry, others wept, others vomited.  They were a rather displeased group, to say the least.

 

Brother Thurm spoke, “My sons,” he hesitated, slowly turning away from the structure to face the men, “demolish it.”

 

The men looked at it, sick with anger, and hesitant with fear.  The captain spoke reassuring words.  “My brothers!  Use the gifts which the Master Builder hath granted thee, thy hammers, thy holy instruments, to purge the land of this abomination of pure evil!  The dark power here cannot harm thee, as long as this sacred tool is clenched within thy fists!  Built into this structure lies the bodies of thy fellow man.  Free their flesh from the wood and vine which captivates them, so that their souls may find rest!”  At that, the group rushed the building, and struck hard with their hammers.  They surrounded it, systematically pounding and smashing, without hesitation or fear.

 

 

- Jyre:  One Last Hope - Day 9: 6:00pm 

 

It had taken three days to remove the worst of the damage, although I couldn't get rid of all the bloodstains. It was not as if it really mattered. I wasn't planning on sticking around. The hardest part had been Els' burial.  Letting him go was the hardest thing I had ever done. I must have sat at his graveside for hours, thinking.

 

Once that was done, I saw to myself. I splinted my damaged ankle, applied salve to the many cuts and bruises and strapped my arm to my side. I didn't have the courage to set the dislocated shoulder. Then I moved everything I could out of my onetime home, taking anything unsalvageable to the dump and selling the rest. The only things I kept were a few supplies, my bow, and the necklace Els had given me after he had first rescued me from the Lady's clutches.

 

I did all this in a state of numb depression. All my feelings, everything that had happened over the last few days, I locked up in a little box deep inside me. I needed to be calm now. I needed a clear head. I had no doubts as to who was responsible for Els' death. I wanted my revenge.  But I was almost sure I could not have it. 

 

I let the cool stream water wash over my fingers as I stared down at the city gates, watching the trickle of human traffic that passed through them. Four Hammerite guards checked every person through, asking them their business and checking their possessions. I had avoided the gate myself, choosing to climb out where the stream flowed into the city. The small hole that allowed it free passage was a tight squeeze but I had used it fairly regularly in the past. That was a bit stupid really considering I couldn't swim.

 

I sighed and turned my back to the city for the last time. I had no desire to go back there again, Lady or no. I had been hurt too often to see it as my home now. My eyes roamed over the rolling green land that eventually led to the woods and the Lady's lodge. I considered going there and making one last futile attempt at vengeance – something I should have been doing instead of running off to fight undead. I felt no urgent need to do so though, so I let the idea drop.

 

Where then? I asked myself as I stared at the ugly paved wound that the hammers had created through the untouched land. There was surprisingly little movement on the road, considering the amount of people at the gates.  Perhaps I could go to the docks, hop on a boat and go back to that other world I had known briefly. I was torn on that one. It would be good to forget about this place but I wasn't quite ready to let go of it yet.

 

Small white clouds drifted across the pale blue sky as I considered what to do. I glanced at the sky above where the Lady’s lodge would be, and saw many dark clouds hovering – unnatural, evil looking clouds.  I found the site disturbing, so I looked away.  I looked in the other direction instead, to where the clouds were small and thin.  The sun's setting rays cut through, giving everything they touched a gentle orange glow. It was getting late now, almost evening.  Soon the sun would set behind the mountains, and the world would belong to my people; the thieves.  A flight of birds passed overhead, flying in a perfect arrow formation. I followed their course, turning on the spot as I did. As they flew to a range of mountains, I found myself staring at something I had spent many days and nights staring at before; a tall narrow structure, silhouetted as the sun set behind it.  It was the place to which I had gone and started this terrible adventure: Master Nightfall’s tower. 

 

I felt my whole body relax for an instant as I gazed at it, remembering all the times I had trekked up there, to deliver to Nightfall a trinket or bauble I had stolen.  He always accepted, and always found some way to repay me.  A smile crossed my face for the first time in days as I remembered the time which, rather than pay me with supplies like I asked, he handed me a half broken lockpick and told me where I could steal some from. He never made it easy, but he did so in such an odd way that I didn’t seem to mind.  I pulled myself back to the present, and refocused my eyes on the tower, which suddenly didn’t seem so far away. It was almost as though it was waiting there for me to come to it, beckoning me.

 

 

- Nightfall:  Prayer for the Dead - Day 9: 7:00pm

 

“Plume and plane, forge and fire, purify their spirits; and draw from them all which does not meet Thy plan. Take them to serve with Thee in Thy Home, where they may rest in peace eternal.”

 

I spoke the Hammerite prayer alongside them.  It was more than just a facade this time.  Though I did not believe the Master Builder to be any more than a great man who lived long ago, I still prayed to my own god for the souls who were sacrificed at this evil’s whim. 

 

After the structure had been torn down, by hammer and axe, three piles were made. One was of the broken wood and vine used to fasten the body parts together.  Another was of the flesh and bone which was identified as being of animals and beasts.  These two piles were then thrown into a pit, and buried.  The third pile, of human flesh and bone, was  laid out and stacked carefully, blessed, and then cremated.  The ashes were placed in urns, crudely fashioned from segments of hollowed out logs.  By the time they, or we, rather, were done, there were twelve large wooden urns filled with ash, ready to be transported to the cathedral where they could be exorcised thoroughly.  According to the Hammerite beliefs, the spirits would then be able to rest.

 

I stood not far from where I first arrived and looked at the spot where the structure had once been.  After they were done dealing with the bodies, they scrapped and ripped everything off the ground they could.  The pentagram shape the building once held was still clearly scorched into the earth.  Where the substructure of the building had been, was now a wide pit, about ten feet deep, filled with loose dirt and broken roots.  At the center of the pentagram, and base of the pit, was a very large stump.  It was laden with impacts and cuts, where Hammers set to with their weapons in an attempt to destroy it.  It seemed, however, that they either lost interest or were defeated by it.  Neither case seemed likely with this group, so I could not help but be suspicious about it.

 

I decided to investigate.  Night had fallen so most of the soldiers had already been relieved, and traveled back to the main camp.  Before they left, they set up a perimeter of torches in the clearing to keep it illuminated so the soldiers who were staying to keep guard could see.   The main camp was set up at the scene of the battle with the mongbats, using the wreckage of the machines for shelter and fortification.  The only people still here aside from myself were the captain, Brother Thurm, a few solders and scouts, the troops who would keep watch during the night, and Richen.

 

I saw out of the corner of my eye, the captain speaking with Thurm.  I listened. 

 

“My brother, there is a great restlessness which lies within myself and the hearts of our sons.  We feel we have not done all which we shouldst.  Is it not true that we were sent here to slay the pagan leader which resided within this unholy place?  And have we accomplished this task?  Nay, all that was done will be for naught if this vile fiend is allowed to slip from our grasp!  For the sake of all future victims to this beast, we must press on!  No force this powerful could flee without a trace.  We will find this trace, and it shall be this fiend’s undoing.  Until then, I declare that we must honor the tradition of old and build a temple of our own atop the ruins of this shrine to the pagan lord.  I suggest that we pave this road which we have worked so hard to construct, and build a tower on this spot.  It hath been done before, and we shall do it again.  This land will be conquered and from this day forth be a monument to our vigilance.”  I could tell by the man's voice how angry he truly was, and how hard he was trying to contain it.  He felt as though this was a slap in the face to him and his soldiers.  They had worked this hard, come all this way, only to be thwarted at the very end.  He wanted victory so badly, and was searching for a way, any way, to find it.  He continued.  “This campaign must not be left incomplete.” 

 

Brother Thurm nodded, and spoke his reply. “I agree, captain.”  Thurm then took a deep breath and looked about.  “Yes, a tower shall be built.”  It was disturbing to see the usually long winded and enthusiastic man so drained and depressed.  I could see it in his eyes, his faith was weakened.  His faith in the machine and technology were being tested like never before.  Those wrecking machines were his pride and joy, and he had watched as they were reduced to junk.  To add insult to injury, it didn’t even matter.  In the end, the work he had envisioned the machines doing was accomplished by simple men.  That, plus this display of raw might put forth by the pagans, had weakened him severely.  He would recover, I knew, but he would never be the same.  He was less naïve now, in a way.  I don’t think he had ever before seen what the Order of the Vine was capable of.  He had lived in the cold, clean, polished world of the Hammerite monastery all his life, and knew little else.  Rigid and brutal as their doctrines may be, they were still sheltered.  They were sheltered from chaos.  Thurm now had his shelter whisked away, and had been fully exposed to pure chaos.  I understood how he felt.  After all, I was every bit as depressed as he was. 

 

I was pulled from my thoughts as the captain approached.  Before I could address him with the question of the stump, he got right to his point.

 

“Brother Thurm and I shalt be making our way to camp.  Wouldst thou like to accompany us in our tent?”

 

I shook my head no.  “I’ll be staying here for a little while.”

 

There was a tap on my shoulder, just as the captain asked,  “Art thou sure?”  I glanced over my shoulder to see Richen. I turned back to the captain.

 

“Yes, captain, I am sure.  Thank you for the offer.”  I gestured to Richen to wait a moment. 

 

“Very well sir.  Just note that Brother Thurm doth indeed wish to speak with thee.  I shall tell him to approach thee in the morning.”

 

“Very good,” I said.  “Tell Brother Thurm that I wish him well.”  He turned to go.  “One thing.” I said, quickly getting his attention.  “I am curious, why did the troops leave the large central stump standing?”

 

The captain shot me a half smile.  “Brother Thurm wouldst attempt to tow it with one of his mechanical children.  He described to me a vision of a massive mechanical beast ripping the stump and all of its roots from the ground.  I called the men off, honestly interested in his ability to repair our demolition machines and convert them into such a locomotive powerful enough to do such a thing.”

 

I nodded, pleased to hear that.  It was good to know that Thurm was still thinking like his old self.  Finally I bid the captain farewell and turned back to Richen who was waiting patiently for me.  “Yes, my friend?”

 

“I ‘eerd you say ta tha cap’in that yea will be stayin oot ‘ere fer a bit.  Jus askin’ ya ta find out if I should save ya any dinner?  I’ll be makin’ some beef stew.”

 

I shook my head no.  “I have no appetite, thank you anyway Richen.”

 

He nodded.  “No prob then sir.  I set us up a campsite jus ootside the ‘ammer tents.  I’ve goot Suzy tied up all proper like.  Shood I expect ta see ya thar t’marrow mornin’?”

 

I sighed.  “I don’t know.”  I glanced about the clearing, and saw that all of the Hammerite scouts had taken up their watch posts.  I turned back to him slowly.  “Get some sleep, Richen.”

 

“Aye, that I will.”  We shook hands, and he walked off in the direction Thurm and the captain had.  I was now alone.

 

There was no sense in trying to eat, and even less in trying to sleep.  I knew I would not be able to do either, even if I wanted to, which I didn’t.  I decided that it would be best if I found a good observation point from which I could see the entire clearing.  It would be even better if I could not be seen from this point.  I soon found one in a large tree nearby.  It was on the very edge of the clearing, opposite to the main camp.  There was a point about twenty feet up where three branches split off from the main trunk, forming a nice basket-like area.  I found my way up and laid my cloak over the branches, giving this “basket” an almost seat-like quality.  It was not my recliner back home, but it would definitely do.  I was correct about the vantage point - I could see the entire are quite nicely from here.  I noted one of the scouts who just happened to be looking in my general direction, and I tried to signal to him by waving my hand.  He did not see me, or, at least, did not acknowledge.  I decided that I was hidden well enough.

 

So there I sat, watching, and waiting; for what, I did not know.  Maybe I expected to see one of the pagan scouts, and then to track him or her, (or it), to the new base.  Most likely I was just going to wait until sunrise.  I wondered how Thurm and the captain, (whose name I really should ask about), were doing.   I did my best not to think of the horrors I had witnessed today, and spent my time thinking instead about my plans for The Circle when I got back.  Maybe that rare set of antique armor would finally arrive.  I had ordered it over a month ago.

 

Try as I might, I could not let the current situation slide from my mind.  Where could this “Lady” possibly have gone?  I doubt she went back to The City.  That would be too easy to track.  However, the best place to hide a letter is on the mantle, so going back to The City would be an option were I in her situation.  She and I, however, were like night and day (possibly a bad analogy) so I had my doubts she would do what I would do.  I did know that she was no fool.  I also knew that she was highly unpredictable.

 

The initial scouting party has found the house vacant.  At the time, I reasoned that they simply had not been thorough in their search, and failed to discover any secret compartments or underground passageways through which the occupants had fled (of course, they also could have merely been out for the day.)  Now it was rather clear that the place had already been abandoned.  It had been abandoned for over five days – more then enough time to get far, far away.  Now that I thought about it, it was foolish to think that these pagans would just stay here and wait for the Hammerite task force to come and kill them.  They must have gotten word from their spies that the scouting party was on its way, and fled immediately.  The mongbats were left behind to slow down or possibly even destroy the assault force which they knew was coming. 

 

Why had I not deduced this long ago?  Was I that preoccupied worrying about Jyre’s fool’s errand into the Forbidden sector?  Even if Els had managed to rescue her, I would have no way of knowing out here.  I was confident in her ability to survive, as well as Els’ prowess.  He had already saved her once from greater odds.  Was I too busy feeling guilty about Lytha to think about what was going on around me?  The Hammerites were, invariably, a very harsh and cruel bunch, especially to those they deemed pagan, so chances were that Lytha would not have survived her first day of interrogation.  Still, those who lived in the woods tended to have a higher constitution then those in The City, so even if she was an old woman she may have lived long enough for Ghost to get her out.  As for Ghost, he was a freelance master thief who was being paid to do a job for a fence - his neck was his business, not mine.

 

I hated being cut off from the world for so long; this not knowing.  I was used to being kept up to date, by the hour at least, on the events going on around me.  At any rate, I was sure that Sheam would send word as soon as she heard anything about Lytha or Jyre.  Jyre, the person who clued me in to this vile monster, I thought to myself.  I wondered if our paths would ever cross again.  She had always been a very unusual person.  It was as if she belonged here in this world as little as I did.  I suspected that I would see her again, soon enough.

 

My train of thought was broken when I spotted movement down below.  I saw a shadow captured briefly in the torch light.  The torches were flickering so much in the breeze that it was hard to tell exactly what the shadow was, but it was definitely alive.  I quickly scanned the entire clearing, paying close attention to the massive star-shaped pit and the stump in the center.  Most likely it was well concealed, from me at least, behind the steep lip of the pit.  I knew something was still down there.  I could sense it.  I relaxed, making it appear as if I had abandoned my search.  If whatever it was could see me, then hopefully it would be lulled back into a sense of security and let its guard down again.  From the look of the guards, they were totally unaware that anything was amiss.  Two of them even looked asleep.

 

Time passed.  Then quite suddenly I saw him again – quite clearly in fact.  There was no more doubt; he was the same someone I had seen earlier.  In a way I was disappointed, since it was not a pagan and I would not be able to stalk him back to base.  I was, however, relieved.  I watched the man, genuinely concerned by the fact that he was totally unconcealed, as he looked directly at me and then point to the stump.  He then melted back into the shadows.  I waited a moment, and then several, and then many, but the man did not come back.  Deciding he was gone, I slid down from my perch to go investigate closer that with which he was so fascinated and wished to share with me.

 

I, quickly and quietly, though I could have been marching and playing the trombone and these guards would not have noticed, went to the stump.  I took a moment to sum it up.  It was rather tall and thick.  It stood about thirteen feet, and was maybe five feet across at the top, and ten at the bottom.  The first seven or so feet was a mass of roots, which converged into a trunk, as was proper for a tree to do, at where ground level would have been.  It was, on a whole, a big ugly stump.  Something on the surface caught my eye.  It seemed as if a small stream of metal was embedded into the side of the stump.  It started about a foot below the top, and flowed down the truck until it vanished unto the mass of roots.  The wood around the metal was burned heavily.  I climbed up the roots so I could get a better look.  The ax cuts left by the Hammerites came in handy.  The source of the metal was a small and shallow hole.  It looked like a hole left by a spike.

 

I jumped back down to the ground.  It occurred to me then that there was something quite unusual about this stump.  With most types of trees, the roots spread out in all directions, with many roots laying horizontal to the surface.  These roots all went downwards, each at nearly the same angle.  From the looks of it, a chamber could neatly be hidden inside the roots.  Now, the Hammerites beat down on this thing rather heavily with their hammers and axes, so a way in would have to have been very sturdy.  That, or it could be enchanted.  It did not take long at all to find a section of two roots which did not have any axe marks on them.  After my initial reaction was to ignore it, I knew that I had a winner.  After overcoming my intense urge to leave it alone, I gave the section a sturdy tug, and open it swung.  Sure enough, there was a small chamber within.

 

I glanced about to see if any of the scouts had noticed.  As suspected, they had not.  I squeezed my way in through the narrow doorway, and found myself in a medium sized nondescript room.  The air within was not stale.  The room could not have been sealed long ago.  The smell of rotting meat still hung lightly in the air.  As deduced formerly, the roots of the trees formed a rather conical chamber.  Further establishing my theory that this was no ordinary root system, there were no signs that a tap rot had ever existed.  In fact, this ‘stump’ was seeming more and more like severed hand, with many root-like fingers pushed into the ground.  Yes, there was a passage leading down from here.  It was more like a pit, leading a short way down, and then out.  Other then that, the room was barren.  There was barely any room to stand, and the ground was loose soil.  Cautiously, I lowered myself into the narrow hole and into darkness.  I paused for a moment and listened.  I heard nothing alarming.  It was not pitch black down here.  Part of it was a dim ambiance from the moonlight, but there was also a dim reddish glow coming from far down the passage.  After an initial hesitation, I pushed on.

 

It was not long before my eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I could see at least well enough to tell whether or not I was going to fall into a pit.  The passage was wedge shaped, flat at the bottom with the walls slanting to a point above.  The walls were rough and jagged.  I could not tell if it had been dug by man or beast.  It would have been nice to stop and do an archeological and geological analysis of the rock, but I didn’t have the time, the resources, and I really wasn’t all that interested anyway.

 

I had been traveling for many minutes before the red glow was heavy enough so that I could see properly.   I cautiously proceeded, my ears straining for any sign of other life.  By the time I was about halfway to the source of the light, I noticed that it was a great deal hotter down this far.  I could also clearly make out an archway up ahead, and a sharp turn into what looked to be a larger chamber which was illuminated by this red light.  I continued towards it, my speed increasing.

 

It was now rather clear that I was in the territory of the precursors. This was not the lost city proper, but possibly another of their settlements.  The way the walls were cut was definitely their style, and the archway ahead was an even stronger indication.  The Lady must have discovered this ancient entryway and built her lodge right on top of it.  I didn’t need any more indications to prove to myself that this was the way the pagans had fled, but I did want to explore a bit more before heading back.

 

The tunnel twisted at a sharp right angle directly after the arch, leading into the massive chamber.  I tucked myself against the edge of the arch, doing my best to look into, or at least listen into, the cavern.  Initially I settled for the latter.  I could only hear a very deep rumbling noise.  Finally, I peeked out slowly.

 

It appeared to be a large man-made chamber.  The floor had been ground flat, much like the walls and floors of the passage.  Four large pillars marked the room into quadrants.  The ceiling was clearly tunneled out by the flow of lava, but I could not see where the lava would have entered or exited, so this cavern could not have been part of a lava flow network unless the traces of it were removed.  The “room” was more like a foyer, acting as an entry hall to an underground city.  I suspected that this was a back door.  This was far too simplistic to be a main entrance, especially because the passage to the surface was so narrow.  I saw a bridge in the center of the room, which must have spanned some sort of chasm.  I was in no position to see any more, though.

 

Confident that the coast was clear, I stepped out into the room, still careful to maintain a level of cover.  I used the shadow of a large pillar as a walkway to get a closer look at the rift.  The rumbling became significantly louder as I approached.  Soon it became apparent that this chasm was actually quite large, and took up most of the room.  I gave the chamber another once over from this new angle before finally stepping out into the red light to get a better look at the bridge.  To my dismay, as soon as I was able to look at it from a proper angle, I saw that the bridge was totally destroyed!  Only the mountings on either side of the rift remained.

 

I walked up to the very edge of the broken bridge to properly examine it.  Before I got a chance, my attention was quickly diverted to the source of the red light and the rumbling.  Flowing in the depths of the rift, was a river of lava.  It amazed me how close to the surface lava always seemed to be in this realm.  After my brief skit of cynicism, I was back to the matter at hand.  The torrid air was rippling heavily, in the pattern of a strong air current.  I didn’t need to see the ripples to clue me in to that - I could feel the sweltering breeze. 

 

I tore my attention away from the molten flow and back to the bridge.  The center of the bridge looked as if it had been melted clean off.  The cut was very smooth, and there were signs that the cut rock had been molten briefly.  It was as if a giant welder’s torch had sliced the center of the bridge off.  I could not tell if it had happened yesterday or ten thousand years ago, but I trusted my hunch.  Fire magery, at least in this land, was unknown outside of the Hand Brotherhood elementalists and the Hammerite Order of Priests.  We had no idea of the Lady’s capabilities, so I was not one to put this past her.  After all, she had already proven herself to be a powerful sorceress.

 

By now I had a rough plan formulated.  The pagans had fled into this underground city, and destroyed the bridge to keep the Hammerites from following.  They did a good job on that mark.  There was nothing the Hammerites could do here.  It would take far too long for them to rebuild the bridge, what with the passageway leading down to here only being wide enough to let the men travel through single file.  The pagans would have won at this point.  It was a shame I had no intention of letting them win. 

 

It was time to take matters into my own hands.  But first I needed to get to my tower to gear up.

 

 

- Lytha: More Nightmares - Day 9: 10:00pm

 

I moved in darkness. In absolute darkness. And then I heard them again. Voices. And a light went on, and off, and on. Flickering. I saw faces in the darkness, in the short intervals of light. Faces of Hammerites. Grotesque faces of dead people. Thalia. The face of the Inquisitor. The pain. They moved towards me, pointing with their hands at me. Or claws. With their eyes motionlessly wide open.  Thalia slowly  raised her hand, the head of the Inquisitor hanging from her claws.  She held up her other hand, holding another head, the face of which I did not recognize.

 

I tried to back away and stumbled into someone or something. I turned, and saw into the face of the man from the prison from the opposite cell who had –  He grinned, and reached out to get me…

 

I screamed.

 

And found myself upright, sitting in a bed.

 

Someone sat beside me and had grabbed my upper arms. "Hey, hey… hey... Lytha. Calm down. It was a nightmare," it said.

 

"What? Where – " I said, shaking.

 

"A nightmare. You are in my house. No Hammers or monsters here. You've screamed loud enough so that the neighbors have probably woken up." Ghost offered me a glass of water. "Here. Drink. I've mixed some of the healing potion in it. That should chase away the nightmares."

 

I drank, and fell asleep again after a few minutes. This time I had no nightmares.

 

 

- Nightfall: A New Mission - Day 9: 10:00pm

 

“Brother Thurm!”  I shouted, as I entered camp.  He emerged quickly from his tent.  I approached him.  “Brother Thurm, I have found where the pagans have fled to.”

 

His eyes widened.  “Thank the Builder for his emissary.  Where?!”

 

“The stump which thy men could not destroy.  It is a doorway!  I have discovered a way to open this doorway, and this I have done.  I found beneath it a chasm, and in this chasm, the path which our enemies have taken.  But our path is blocked, for the evil ones destroyed the bridge which spanned a rift, rendering us unable to follow by the path which they took.”

 

The light came back into Thurm’s eyes as I said this, and the captain emerged as well, having heard.  He spoke from over my shoulder:  “Excellent!  No barrier shall stand between us and our foe!  We shalt conquer it and victory will be ours!”

 

I turned to him.  “You should be warned, captain, for this is no simple barrier.  The passageway which leads to this chasm is indeed narrow.  It would require many days and nights to build a bridge using material and tools small enough to fit through this crack in the ground."

 

Brother Thurm smiled.  “Then,” he said, “shalt we widen the passage.”

 

I dashed off as the two men argued as to how that foolish notion would be accomplished.  It made me glad, though.  They had hope once more, and a new chance to prove that their technology would defeat the forces of chaos.  Anything they had in mind, however, would take too long.  I had to act fast.  I could not allow this Lady and her minions to escape once more.  I made my way to Richen and the horse.  Richen had not gone to sleep either.

 

“Richen, I need to use Suzy,” I said, as I was untying her.

 

“Er?  Of course, Dan, She’s yer ‘orse!”

 

“Thank you!” I shouted, and then mounted and took off down the road.

 

At this speed, it would take me a little over three hours to get to my tower.  If I gave myself thirty minutes to get geared up, I would be back here before sunrise.  I just hoped that it wouldn’t be too late.

 


Chapter 12 - Revelations

 

- Nightfall: The Mystery Man - Day 10: 12:00am

 

It was raining once again.   The rain was different this time, though.  It was more natural and neutral.  It was not an evil rain, but it was still intense.  I kept the horse running at a steady pace, slightly below her maximum speed.  I didn’t want to wear her out.  There was still quite a ways to go.  I rode her down the road the Hammers had built, of course. I must have been riding for a couple hours, a good half of my journey,  when I saw something on the newly built road up ahead.  My keen eyes identified a man carrying a lantern.  He was standing in the middle of the road waiting, for me no doubt. 

 

As I grew near, I recognized the man.  It was the same man I had seen twice this day: once when I first came to the lodge, and then when I was watching during the night.  It was James.

 

 

- James: A Full Report - Day 10: 12:00am

 

Trudging through the mud and rain is not, in my opinion, a pleasant way to spend one’s evening.  Nevertheless, there I was, and that was what I was doing.  I had gathered all the information I needed.  Rest had proven impossible, and now all that was left was to present my report to Daneel.  My plan was to go home, compile it all into a document, and have a man deliver it to the camp, where Daneel was most likely staying. 

 

I paused on my journey as the distinctive sound of horse hooves hitting mud at a gallop came to my ear.  I did an about-face, curious to see who my guest would be.  Within moments, I saw it was Daneel, behaving rather unexpectedly.  I opened the shutters on my lantern so that he would see me.  It took him some time to get to where I was standing.  I would have told him to “get a horse,” but he had one.  When he approached, he spoke first.

 

“I saw you, twice.”

 

“Yes I know,” I replied.  “The first time was several moments after you arrived at the lodge.  You saw me out of the corner of your left eye as I stood forty paces away, mostly concealed behind a large rock.”  He grinned as I said this, so I continued.  “The second time was when I was investigating the post ‘Hammerited’ villa, or what was left of it.” 

 

“Yes,” he said, “You were startled by something you saw on the stump.  Was it the stream of metal?”

 

“No,” I said, “and if you will let me deliver my report, I shall tell you all about it.”

 

He put down the horse’s reins, but remained mounted.  “Please, go on.”

 

 “Well, it’s a fair amount to tell, so bear with me.  As you have discovered, matters are looking unpleasant. First, the information that we have dug up in our researches.”  Getting no reaction from him, I proceeded.

 

“I came out here to fully confirm the suspicions I hinted at earlier, and which research has given shape.  The Lady is no normal threat.  The streets have produced no information other then knowledge of her existence, save one informant who was killed before making her rendezvous; others clearly know of the Lady but are too terrified to speak.  So much would indicate strong current coercive power.  However, a curious glyph was left carved on our informant’s back after she was killed; and this has been a worrisome clue.”

 

“She?” he said with slight alarm in his voice.  “Who?”

 

“Swantella was her name.  You never met her.”  He nodded solemnly, and I proceeded.

 

“The same glyph that was found on her back has been found in a number of references Corinne has dug out of the archive; and there, too, it is only referenced en passant and in tones of terror.  The power behind the glyph is linked to the Trickster and the Wood, but as a sometime ally, not as a servant.  Certainly a dark and chaotic force, in any event, and ill-disposed towards man.  Is the use of the glyph in this age merely an accident?  I think not.  Is it a false lead, set by a normal enemy to deceive, or to wear the mantle of an ancient terror?  Again, I suspect not.  The terror is forgotten for long years in the records, only to crop up anew when it has slid from memory.  So I decided I needed to have a look at this villa, or lodge as Jyre called it, and my trip there has confirmed my darkest suspicions.  Incidentally, Corinne discovered a small fact about it:  it wasn’t listed in the Hammer records because, quite simply, it hadn’t existed 2 months ago.  Quite a feat.  Let me explain what I have found there.”

 

I could see Daneel was getting impatient with my long-windedness.  I wondered where he was going in such a hurry. I tried to describe events quickly, so that he would not lose interest and dash off before I was done.

 

“You passed along a report on the shape of the villa: ‘In the shape of a Pentagram, with towers on each corner’. The structure I found had no towers.  Instead, piles of something unknown adorned each corner of the star.   As I watched, part of the structure collapsed, and I moved cautiously towards it.”

 

“Yes, I saw,” Daneel interrupted.  I simply nodded and continued.

 

“It stank.  The piles on each corner were skin and bones, of a wide variety of creatures, mostly humans.  Doors – or rents – had appeared in the strange material forming each facet of the house.  I entered, carefully inserting a small iron nail into the strange fabric of the “door” to create a path out in the event of sorcery.  The interaction of iron and Woodsie magics is not fully understood; does forged metal gain a magic of its own from the work of its creation, in the same way that building a structure in the earth can enforce on some creatures its floor plan of walls, doors, and windows long after the structure has crumbled into dust?  Or is it more simply a matter of direct counteraction, the logical physical reality of iron dismissing the arcane psychological glamour of the ancients of the Wood?  But I digress.”

 

Daneel nodded, urging me to get back to the main tale.

 

“Gone were the rich trappings and careful corridors of the report.  Inside the villa I found little; not even walls, for it had become a hollow shell.  In the dimly lit center I found an enormous oaken stump, ripped off at a height of perhaps 3 meters.  Something, probably the remains of the central tower, was draped over the top of the break.  On the south side of the stump, a stairway which appeared to have grown, rather than been carved, lead downwards.  I entered, driving a small iron nail into the footing of the first step.  The stairway lead down for some 4 meters, and then opened out into a room whose roof was formed from the spreading secondary roots of the tree.  Peering about in the light of my torch, I discovered that little was left here either, though the stench suggested a slaughterhouse.  To the west I found another stairway leading down, and on the ground near it, a small fragment of a clay tablet.  Wedging my torch between a set of roots, I pulled the tablet out of the ground for a closer look.” 

 

I handed the tablet to Daneel.  He reached down and took it, and turned it over several times in his hands, examining it.  He read it out loud.  “Dead thoughts.”

 

“The reference was clear; the full chant ran through my head as soon as I saw it.”  I recited the chant for Daneel, to refresh his memory.

 

“Builds your roofs of dead wood.

Builds your walls of dead stone.

Builds your dreams of dead thoughts.

Comes crying laughing singing back to life,

Takes what you steal,

And pulls the skins from your dead bones shrieking.”

 

“Yes,” he said, “I know that one all too well.”  He handed the tablet back to me.  I took it, pocketed it, and continued.

 

“This villa must have been a temple of the Wood, active recently, and after the demise of the Trickster, and apparently run by a Lady.  The inference is clear: The Lady of the Wood, the Faery Queen of legend, the Queen of Night, the Viktoria of last summer’s events, is still active despite her husband’s demise.  I doubt she has become any more kindly disposed towards humanity for her loss.  Her activity also clarified the speed of the villa’s construction, and the meaning of its sudden collapse:

 

And when learns the Woodsie Lord of this,

He sends His beastesses to the manfools,

Who attacks and hammers saws their useless fleshes

And build him a house of they rotting skins....

 

“The villa, constructed of human skin and bones, had been given fairer form by the will of the Queen; and with her departure, the glamour was wearing off.  I wondered at the time what would become of the poor souls she had trapped to power the spell; but as you know, they have been granted release.  I concluded it was best to vacate the premises before the collapse completed itself, in case it included the stairway I had used to come into the Temple.  Indeed, the stairway was becoming less stair-like, and the nail I had driven into the wood had begun to glow red-hot in its opposition to the magic in the wood.  The skin and bone structure of the villa was also far less sound when I arrived again on the surface.  The structural change was disorienting, but the path formed with iron held true and drew my steps out to safety.”

 

I paused to see if any reaction was forthcoming from Daneel.  I saw none, so I went on.

 

“I waited and watched when the Hammers arrived. You were obviously among them, so I shan’t go into detail on the events which you witnessed first hand.  I confess that despite my distaste for many of the Hammer’s ways, I was moved to murmur the prayer along with the Hammers as the human remains were cremated.  Did my glance mistake itself, or did your lips speak the prayer too, Daneel?  I was too far away to be sure.  When the fire became coals, and the screams of those once-tormented souls faded into peace, the main Hammerite force, including the captain and the priest, departed, leaving only a small token guard behind, and yourself.”

 

Daneel nodded.  “And still, you investigated once more after we had settled for the night.  What did you hope to see?”

 

“If you wait a moment, I shall tell you.  You of course noted that there was a large stump which was not destroyed by the Hammerites.  It was this same stump, beneath which I found this tablet, of course.  I moved to investigate.  Where once there was a stairwell, now there was nothing.  The stump had sealed itself somehow.  I then noted my nail, which had melted further, becoming a cooling streak of metal running downward, spanning the trunk.  The wood it touched had turned to ash.”

 

“Yes, I noted that.”

 

“You investigated after I had departed?” I asked

 

He nodded a yes.  “James, tell me of Jyre and Els.”

 

“Shall in a moment, Daneel, but first I have a other matters to report as well.  Some days ago, I concluded it was necessary to perform a somewhat drastic act, in the event of our needing to oppose this Lady.  At the Circle there was a curious iron stone that fell from the stars.  I have previously mentioned to you the potential power of this item.  It is time to use that potential.  I have taken the stone to a smith whose discretion and skill I have the greatest regard for, and from it he is cold-forging a weapon we may need in opposing the Lady.  Have no doubts, it will be expensive, but I think it will prove worthwhile.”

 

He was silent, listing intently.  I noticed that the rain had died down, so I no longer needed to speak with the same volume.

 

“I do not know what exactly the Lady plans, but these are my suspicions.  Last year, Garrett destroyed the Trickster with a Hammerite device.  Normally, the Trickster – then Constantine – is replaced by his successor in ritual single combat.  Garrett did not destroy the Trickster in that ritual combat, and thus the line was not extended.  It is probable that Viktoria intends to ritually kill the Trickster in order to assume unto herself the powers of both the Wood and Faery.  Thus arrayed she would be a formidable force, as the bickering that has traditionally divided Chaos might be, dare we say it, ordered by a single will, and thus be a much greater threat.  We must think carefully on our next step.”

 

His brow furrowed, showing deep concern.  I went on.

 

“The man called Els, who visited you, was killed several nights ago, and I suspect it is the Lady’s work.”  At that, Daneel grew outwardly disturbed, but did not speak.  “In addition, Jyre apparently accepted a job from Ramirez that took her into the Forbidden Sector, and she has not been heard of since.  I have strong suspicions of links between the Lady and Ramirez, probably originally through Bafford but later more direct.  You said that they had left the Lady’s service, and I suspect this is her vengeance.  She directly slew Els, and indirectly slew Jyre by sending her on a suicide mission via Ramirez, who was acting as her pawn.”

 

“Damn,” he said.  He spoke under his breath, words which I read his lips to say, “You fool, you let them both die.”  I pretended that I did not see him say that.

 

“That’s all I have to report on them at this time.  I would have more on those two, but people of their social class do not normally have records, and I had all my resources devoted to the Lady.”

 

Daneel seemed frozen, and then suddenly reanimated.  “Thank you James.”  At that, he sped away on his horse. 

 

I should have paid more attention to that; I should have realized he was losing his sense of detachment, and would do something rash.  But I was exhausted, and my only thought, as I trudged home, was, “Builder’s hairy bollocks, Dan, you might have given me a lift!”

 

 

- Jyre: Out of Context - Day 10: 1:00am

 

I stood at the bottom of the stairs to Nightfall's tower and gazed at the giant structure. He was the only “friend” I had left around here. I made my way up the steps slowly, hobbling along on my makeshift crutch. It felt oddly pleasant to be walking this path between the rows of trees, listening to the gentle songs of the night birds. I halted before I came within sight of the guards at the gate and ducked under the branches of the nearest tree. My desire for human company was even lower than normal.  Winding my way through the trees, I eventually came to the steel fence. Climbing it was easy after my time spent in the haunted district. Once on the other side, I darted from shadow to shadow until I reached the side of the tower. A little searching and I came to the tradesmen's entrance. After listening with my ear pressed to the door for several minutes, I turned the handle and stepped through into the cool room beyond. Thankfully, it was empty.

 

The room was small, square and nearly empty. The only furniture was the wooden bench along the left wall. There were no decorations either, just bland tiled walls and floor. There were two other doors, one on the right, which, judging by the size and condition of it, led to some sort of cupboard, and one in the wall opposite the entrance. I dropped down on the bench to rest, exhausted. To tell the truth, I should never have done this. My body needed to rest and recover, not be dragged half-way across the city on a whim. I slipped a bottle from my belt, uncorked it and drank. The contents tasted foul. It was a stimulant, nothing more. Something to keep me going despite my condition. When its effects finally wore off I would pay dearly. But right now all I cared about was finding Nightfall.

 

I pushed myself up of the bench and went through the second of the two doors. It led into a long hallway. I glanced left, then right. Neither way suggested itself to me so I just shrugged and went left. The hallway was carpeted so, despite my crutch and hobbled leg, I was able to move fairly quietly. It was surprisingly quiet inside the mansion and I found myself wondering if anyone was home. Not that it really mattered. If Nightfall wasn't here, I'd just have to wait for him. I paused at the first door, cracked it open and peered in – a kitchen. I moved on. Five more doors and two hallways later, I came across what appeared to be a study. The luxury of the place amazed me! Leather chairs, carpeted floors, curtains and even glass in the windows! And so many books – two whole cases full! And then there was the desk. It was made from some sort of dark-grained wood, with beautiful carvings on the edges and a leather inlay on the top. I picked a letter from the top of a large pile, sank into the nearest seat and began to read.

 

 

Dan,

 

We will have to go through with it ahead of schedule. It must be done in three days. We’re counting on you. Make it good, like you always do.

 

~Ken

 

I stared at the scrap of paper the note had been scribbled on and shook my head. Meaningless. At least to me.

 

"That's because it wasn't meant for your eyes, little one."

 

I dropped the paper and looked up, expecting to see Els standing over me with his usual displeased frown. Only he wasn't. And he never would be again. I felt tears prick my eyes and I wiped them away. Guilt welled up inside of me as I glanced around. I shouldn't be doing this, prying through Master Nightfall's private things.

 

"No. You shouldn't."

 

Damn memories! I put the letter back where I had found it, fighting back tears. I had thought them gone, that night on the hill when I said goodbye. Or was it just my own conscience speaking with his voice? I got to my feet, crossed to the door and put my hand on the handle. I paused for a second then returned to the chair, picking up another letter from the desk as I passed it. Conscience be damned, I needed to know who he was!

 

Hello there,

On the streets I am known as “Octopus,” so I would appreciate it if you credit that name. I have here the translated (into modern tongue) chronicles of the Smith-in-Exile concerning the time of the Peril.

If this is deemed worth posting in your museum, I shall write more Hammerite scripture as and when I have time.

Sincerely,
Octopus

 

From one of Nightfall's operatives. A scholar by the sounds of things. This “Smith-in-Exile” sounded familiar to me but whatever memory the name linked to, it was too far gone to give any real insight and just annoying enough to make me want to hunt it out and read it. I probably would have, had I been more relaxed, but the mention of Hammer scriptures made me nervous. I wondered why Nightfall would need such things. More than one reason sprang to mind.

 

"Do you really want to know?"

 

I actually smiled this time. It was comforting to know that Els was still there, living inside my head to guide me. Perhaps death wasn't as final as I had thought. I waited for a response that never came.  Did I really want to know?  Actually, yes, of course I did.  I was burning to know.  I picked up the next letter and read it.

 

D~

 

I actually have a spot of fresh news from an unexpected source, including a sales figure.
It should go up tonight.

 

~J

 

Nothing important. I placed it to one side, not really taking in what had been written there. My thoughts were still on the last note. Hammer scripture. Reasonable enough if all he wanted was information that would help him learn more of their ways. But something told me that wasn't the case. The Circle of Stone and Shadow had existed long enough untouched by those religious maniacs to suggest Nightfall knew a good deal about them. Enough to keep himself and his associates safe from their prying at least. So why then? A study of their history? A better understanding of their beliefs? I shook my head in confusion. Did I want to know? My hand hovered over the next paper as my mind wavered. Could I cope with not knowing? I lifted the paper from the desk and found my answers.

 

MEMO- 09.08 08.23

DISPATCH NUMBER 475125462

ORDER OF THE HAMMER

COURIER REGISTRY 54-AF

 

FROM:

RAFAEL MORTANGRO STEINKLAW,

HIGH PRIEST, THE ORDER OF THE HAMMER

LORD OF STEINKLAW MANOR

 

TO:

DANEEL ELIAS TODULEM, ALIAS "NIGHTFALL"

MASTER, THE CIRCLE OF STONE AND SHADOW

LORD OF UNNAMED ESTATE, REGESTRY NUMBER 543-AD4

 

OUR SCOUTS HAVE RETURNED FROM INVESTIGATING THE STRUCTURE, THE LOCATION AND NATURE OF WHICH YOU INDICATED TO US DURING THE EMERGENCY SESSION OF THE HIGH COUNCIL OF THE ORDER OF THE HAMMER ON 09.07. YOUR SUSPICIONS WERE CORRECT. SAID STRUCTURE DOES EXIST, AND IT BEARS THE MARKINGS OF OUR ENEMIES, THE FOLLOWERS OF THE NOW DECEASED TRICKSTER, THE PAGANS. HOWEVER THE BUILDING SEEMS TO BE ABANDONED, SAVE ONE WOMAN WE FOUND TRESPASSING ON THE RESIDENCE. THIS WOMAN APPEARED TO BE A THIEF, WHOM WE CAUGHT DURING HER RAID. SHE WAS CONVICTED ON FIVE ACCOUNTS OF RESISTING ARREST, BREAKING AND ENTERING, TRESPASSING, THEFT, BEARING FALSE WITNESS, AND CONCEALMENT OF EVIDENCE. SO FAR ALL OUR INTERROGATIONS OF HER HAVE ONLY PRODUCED HER NAME, "LYTHA". WE SUSPECT THAT THIS IS NOT HER TRUE NAME. THIS WOMAN IS ALSO SUSPECTED TO BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE BURGLARY OF THE WESTERN BRANCH MONASTARY SEVERAL WEEKS AGO. SHE IS BEING INTERROGATED FOR INFORMATION INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO, THE FOLLOWING TOPICS: HER PRESENCE IN THE STRUCTURE, HER POSSIBLE INVOLVEMENT WITH THE PAGANS WHO MADE RESIDENCE THERE, THE LOCATION OF THE EVIDENCE SHE UNDOUBTEDLY STOLE FROM THE RESIDENCE AND IS NOW CONCEALING, THE METHOD IN WHICH SHE BROKE INTO THE MONASTARY (SO THAT CORRECTIVE SECURITY MEASURES MAY BE TAKEN), THE NUMBER OF, NAMES OF, AND LOCATION OF ALL HER CONSPIRATORS AND CO-CONSPIRATORS, AND ANY AND ALL OTHER INFORMATION WHICH MAY SERVE US IN DETERMINING HER PAST CRIMES, THUS INFLUENCING THE SEVERITY OF HER PUNISHMENT, AND THE METHOD OF HER EXECUTION.

 

AT NOON TODAY, THE TASK FORCE, WHICH HAS BEEN ORDERED TO DEMOLISH THIS STRUCTURE SHALL SET OUT ON ITS JOURNEY. I ASK THAT YOU BE THERE, AND ACCOMPANY THE FORCE DURING THE ENTIRETY OF ITS MISSION. YOUR ABSENCE FROM THIS EVENT SHALL BE CONSIDERED A DIRECT INSULT TO THIS ORDER, AND WILL BE ANSWERED ACCORDINGLY.

 

IN THE MASTER BUILDER’S NAME,

LORD RAFAEL MORTANGRO STEINKLAW,

HIGH PRIEST,

FIRST IN THE ORDER OF THE HAMMER

 

Betrayed. That was the one thought that echoed through my head as I returned the letter to its place on the desk. I had been betrayed. I had gone to him in good faith. Trusted him even. Only for him to turn around and give everything I had revealed to those filthy Hammers! I felt my anger start to rise as I sat there and thought about what I had just read. I knew I should have left there and then. After all, next time he saw me he could just hand me over like he had that poor thief.

 

I was on my feet, pacing back and forth anxiously, the paper clutched tightly in my hand. I glanced at the door then the desk, then crossed the space between them, the paper tapping against my leg. I read it again, just to make sure I really had read the words it held. Nothing changed, despite my wish that I had been wrong. It was all there in black and white. Nightfall had gone to the Hammers.

 

No. It was more than that. He was part of their organization. He had attended one of their meetings. Probably more, if the casual reference to it was anything to go by. I stopped by the door, reached out to open it and heard someone speak. The words were too low to make out but they sounded as though they came from the other side of the door. My eyes swept over the room, searching for somewhere to hide. Only one place presented itself. Under the desk. I scurried under the small place and waited anxiously for the door to swing open and my mess be discovered. My eyes returned to the paper I still clutched in my fist. One line stood out from the rest:

 

SAID STRUCTURE DOES EXIST, AND IT BEARS MARKINGS OF OUR ENEMY, THE TRICKSTER.

 

I frowned at the paper. The Trickster? But it was the Lady's lodge. Of that I was certain. And this Trickster was no more than a myth created by the Hammers to cultivate belief in their so-called God. But if Nightfall had given them the information in the first place, then surely he knew much more about this lodge and the Lady than I did. Coldness clutched at my chest as I realized he would trust those filthy hypocrites with the information and not the person who had supplied it in the first place. I felt used. Nothing new there, at least.

 

I shifted slightly, trying to avoid cramps, and heard something rustle beneath me. I padded the carpet with my hand until I found a small crumpled note, which must have dropped before.

 

D,

 

The deed has been done. Expect no traces to yourself, the other guy, or myself. The spoils shall be coming to you shortly. I do not think it would be wise to discuss specifics in this document, so let me be brief. The first thing was done easily, but I had to forgo the second thing. This is not a problem though, for the third thing took care of it. Because the first thing went so well, I did not have to bother with the fourth thing. Your secrets are safe once again. Must be fun to have pawns in the Order of the Hammer, eh? May the Master Builder kiss my black ass.

 

~ Rembrant

 

I stared at the note blankly, utterly confused. Then I reread it. Twice. It still didn't make any sense. Pawns? In the Hammers? But why would he need pawns when he happily worked alongside them? Or was this Rembrant as mislead as I had been. There was something there I could be certain of though. Nightfall's secrets were not as safe as Rembrant had made out.

 

Hearing footsteps moving away from the door, I finally crawled out from under the desk and returned the papers to their rightful place. I wasn't happy with what I had discovered. In fact, I was furious! I was about to go and confront Nightfall about it all when I spotted Els's name on yet another letter. I hesitated, glanced towards the door, then returned to the chair to read.

 

Daneel,

 

I was helping Els pick out his equipment, as you asked, when he demanded that I let him go home to get something. I offered to go with him. He refused. I told him that I needed to get him some health potions first. He said that he hates the stuff, and never drinks it. I told him that he was in no condition to run across town and back to get only one item! He wouldn’t even tell me what the item was! I told him that I’d send a servant after it. He refused, and told me that no one should follow him when he went. I told him to at least get some equipment before he went, and he refused again! He left, and I was unable to stop him. I tried to follow him, but he lost me. I’m sorry Daneel, I haven’t seen or heard from him since.

 

Sheam

 

 

- Nightfall: A Misleading Discovery - Day 10: 1:00am

 

Why had Sheam not contacted me?  That was totally unlike her.  She would never forget something like that.  Something must have gone wrong.  I knew the answer soon enough.  I didn’t notice him until I was almost on top of the corpse.  There, standing in the road, was the body of a man.  I halted my stead and jumped to the ground, quick to investigate.  He way laying, face down, in the mud.  His back was covered in claw marks, and blood was everywhere.  I could see his exposed spine, which was snapped.   Carefully, I turned him over to get a look at his face.  I had seen him before; only in passing.  He was a messenger; one of my messengers.  Swallowing my remorse from the loss, I inspected his pouch, determined to not let his sacrifice be in vain.  Empty.  Someone had taken the message he was bringing for me.  Relieved, I found it not a second latter; clutched in his hand.  I pulled the ragged sheet of paper from his cold fingers and read it.  To my dismay, it was soaked with water and blood, and I could barely read it.

 

            D,

 

……….. I me… he….h……wr…………. ka………. .. Ghost did not…. meh .. both dead… found killed in his ….. perhaps Lytha had ….. I fear the wor….. do not exp …. Is st... alive…

 

            I’m ….rt,

 

            Sheam

 

I shut my eyes and clutched the paper hard.  I could barely read it, but I think I got the message.  Ghost had failed.  Lytha was dead.  They were probably both dead.  So many people have died because of my carelessness.  None of them deserved it.  They came to me, and I repaid them with death.

 

I rode hard and fast through the night.  My head was swimming.  There was no way I could have known.  There was nothing I should have done.  A part of me kept telling myself that.  I never really listened to that part of me.  As a result of inaction, Captain Els was now dead, Jyre was dead, Lytha was dead, and Ghost was most likely dead as well – all  because I got careless.  I didn’t think things through far enough and consider the possibilities of my action.  I did not think things through and Lytha died.  My desire to remain as uninvolved as possible from private affairs resulted in the death of Jyre and Els.  I had acted like a Keeper.  Now I was damning myself for it.

 

In what seemed like no time at all, I found myself at the head of the road.  Taking no time to reminisce, I plotted out the shortest route to my tower, and rode there at full gallop.  I did my best to not think of the past, only the future, and what I had to do.  I needed a way to navigate through this underground labyrinth, and find the Queen and her minions.  More pressing in urgency was a way to either get across the rift, or down into it safely.

 

When I finally brought my mind back to where I was, I was already home.  The all-too-familiar sight of my tower loomed into view, dark black against the starry sky.  For an instant I had a flashback to days long past, as I hastily fled to my old tower in the Sajot mountains, in a far off distant land.  I shook the memory from my mind as I tethered the horse and dashed up to the tower.  The front door unlocked and opened as I drew near, and I nodded to my two guards standing watch as I entered. 

 

All the servants were asleep.  The place was dead silent and quite dark, exactly how I liked it.  Once again, I could not enjoy it.  As I made my way through, I chanced to glance at the great spiral staircase which lead to my tower and bed chamber.  I quickly put any notion of rest out of my mind as I instead made a beeline to the basement. 

 

Not all of my rare artifacts are kept in The Circle.  I dashed through the hall and chamber of my cellar, making my way to the secret entrance.  All the while I ran what had happened through my head; what I should have done differently; where I turned left where I should have gone right; the task at hand, and what was possible if all that I had deduced, all that James had reported, and all that the Keeper had told me, was true.  However, the things that burned in my mind like acid were: I had let Jyre, Els, and Lytha down, and now they were all dead.  You don’t forgive yourself for things like that very easily.

 


Chapter 13 - Reunion

 

- Nightfall: Reunion - Day 10: 4:00am

 

I navigated the tunnels deep within the hillside daily, so why did they now seem so maze-like?  I was constantly making wrong turns and losing my way.  I could not focus.  All I could think about was Els, being skinned alive and made into trophies for those monsters,  Jyre, being devoured by zombies, and Lytha being whipped, burned, and finally disemboweled by the Hammerites.  I could have protected Els, but I did not.  I could have gone after Jyre, but I did not.  I could have ordered Lytha’s release, but I did not.  I am not the type of person who dwells on regret, but sometimes I make an exception.  This was one of them.  It was an all too familiar tragedy.  My mind kept going back to the past, back to my old life, now long gone. This is not the first time someone suffered badly for my inaction, and now that memory sprung to life once more.

 

“M’lord?”  the woman’s words echoed in my mind.

 

“Yes?”  I had said in reply, not shifting my gaze from my desk to the speaker.

 

“My brother… I… he…. He has decided to go.  He left several minutes ago.”  Her voice was shaking.

 

All I did was nod, letting her know that I heard.

 

“M’lord… I fear for his life... I could not convince him to change his mind... “  She paused, I could hear the intense fear in her voice.  I finally turned around to look at her.  I could see in her eyes that she had been crying.  “Please…. Daneel, stop him, save him.  Please...”

 

All I did was shake my head.  “The decision was his.  It is not my place to dictate to him what he can and cannot do.  His choices are his own. I respect that.  You should too.   If he so chooses to go off on this quest, then he shall suffer the consequences.  He is a man, and under no one’s rule but his own.  It is not my job, nor yours, to protect him from his own decisions.” 

 

I remember the words well, as if I had spoken them yesterday.

 

The memory faded after that.  I remember hearing, several days later, that his broken body had been found, half eaten by the creatures he set out to slay.  His sister disappeared after that.  Months latter, her corpse was found, a dagger thrust into her chest by her own hand.  We had not been terribly close, I was not close to anyone in those days, but we were friends.  I blamed myself.  I never forgave myself.  I could have stopped him.  He would not have died and she would not have killer herself out of grief.  It was my fault.  I could have done something.  I didn’t.  I didn’t get involved.  It happened again.  I didn’t get involved.  If I had, things would have been different.  I could have easily saved them both.  I didn’t.  Jyre, Els, and Lytha were dead.  I blamed myself.  It was my fault…

 

 

- Jyre: Reunion - Day 10: 4:00am

 

The parchment fell from my numb fingers. I stared at nothing as I shook my head in denial. He'd sent Els away. The captain had barely been coherent and Nightfall had sent him away! Told him to go into the forbidden section without a second thought! Els had practically been ordered to his death.

 

The anger and hurt that had been trapped inside me these last few days rose and started to bubble. I got up and ran.  I didn’t know where I was going, and I didn’t care.  I just ran.  I entered a dark room and suddenly there he was, Master Nightfall.  Pain and exhaustion were forgotten, replaced by thoughtless fury. I stood and drew my dagger from my belt, raised it above my head...

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

I didn’t even see it coming.   Another tribute to my carelessness.  A dark shape lunged at me. All I felt was a sharp cold pain in my chest.  It lunged again.  I staggered backwards.  If it had been under any other circumstances my instincts would have reacted. I would have defended and counterattacked.  But I didn’t.  I didn’t know why I just stood there.  I just stood there as this shape I could not even see attacked me.  I couldn’t see it because I didn’t even look.  My mind was too filled with regret and anger at myself.  The only difference was now my body was in as much pain as my mind.  Suddenly the creature stopped, and took a step backwards.  I could see that it was quivering.  With great difficulty, I turned my head and focused my eyes on the creature.

 

It was Jyre….

 

 

- Jyre:

 

I let the dagger drop. My whole body shuddered. His blood was everywhere! It covered my hands like gloves. I looked up at him, at his torn and tattered clothes and bloody wounds. I saw the pain that filled his eyes. My heart sank as my mind finally accepted what I had done. His eyes followed my own to the blood covered stones and he shrugged. It was almost as if he had expected it. I swallowed back the lump of fear in my throat and tried to say something. Words wouldn't come. The sigh that escaped his lips then was filled with weariness. Tears slipped down my cheeks. I had killed him...

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

I looked down at myself.  Seven, maybe eight stabs across my ribs and stomach.  I was no longer able to stand.  I had lost too much blood.  I fell to the floor, and just rested.  Jyre was alive.  She had not died.  She made it out by herself.  I did not need to send Els after her.  I understood.  She blamed me for Els’s death.  She was mostly right.  I could have saved him.  I should have protected him.  I failed her.  I lay there and rested.

 

She started to cry.

 

Slowly, I recollected my wits.  The wounds were not that deep, but they were enough to make me bleed.  I pushed my body upwards.  I began to lose consciousness as I lifted my head, but I fought against it.  I pushed myself up to a sitting position.  She had her face buried in her hands, weeping.  I scooped up some of the blood that was flowing down my tunic with my gloved hand.

 

 

- Jyre:

 

Blood trickled through his fingers, pooling in his lap. My blood turned to ice as I watched. Why wasn't he dead? When he looked up at me his face was calm and peaceful. There was no fear there, just acceptance. I tried to back away.

 

"You're right." I could barely hear his words. Blood trickled out the side of his mouth and down his chin. "It is my fault..."

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

“W-what is…?”  was all she could say.

 

I closed my eyes.  So little energy was left. I could no longer keep my head up.  I rested my face against my bloody palm.  The smell of my own blood filled my lungs.  It was strangely soothing.  “I got careless,” I said, lifting my head slightly so I could speak.  I looked at her through my fingers.  No reaction came.  “And unnecessary deaths resulted.”

 

She spoke suddenly, almost a whisper, “Els…”

 

I nodded.

 

 

- Jyre:

 

My legs buckled and I collapsed into the floor. My whole body was going numb after its mistreatment over the last few days. I forced myself to stay alert. To listen. I felt terrible. He would die because of me! I had acted without thought, without giving him a chance to explain! And now he sat confessing to me even as his life trickled away between his fingers. I didn't want this!

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

“And Lytha too...”

 

“Lytha?”

 

“But; you don’t know about Lytha…”  I sighed again.  I grew dizzy.  As much as I fought the darkness, I knew I could not remain conscious for long.  I was sitting in a pool.  No.  I cannot sit in a pool of my own blood.  I must stand.  I fought to stand up. “The Hammers... I thought I could keep them under my thumb... I am so wrong...”

 

 

- Jyre:

 

He was on his feet again, towering over me. His desire to live astounded me. I wanted to help him but knew not how. If only I had listened more to my teachers. If only I had listened more to him! If only...

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

I stood.  I had a job to do.  I focused my mind on the task at hand.  I felt that if I focused hard enough, I would be able to continue in spite of my wounds.  I could see the fear in her eyes.  “There is still time... I know what she's doing... Little else matters anymore... I m-must GO....”  I told her, knowing that she knew nothing of what was happening. 

 

At that I fell.  I dropped to my knees.  I could go no further.  My eyes closed slowly.

 

 

- Jyre:

 

He wasn't moving, just kneeling in front of me, eyes closed and features frozen. I forced myself to my feet, fighting the growing weariness that now pulled at my eyelids. I gave his shoulder a shove, praying for a reaction but knowing there would be none. His body rocked slightly and than he was still. I watched him but saw no sign of life. He no longer even breathed.

 

Panic gripped me. I couldn't let him die! Not like this. Not at my hands! He wasn't allowed to die! I ripped my injured arm free from its binding and grabbed him with both hands, shaking him. Don't ask me what I hoped to achieve. I didn't know myself.

 

Pain lashed through my injured shoulder. White lances of agony drove through my body. The room spun around me, shimmering. My vision began to dim. Blackness took me.

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

The darkness never came.  Instead there was light.

 

I was no longer in the storeroom.  I knew not where I was, yet I felt as if I had been here before, many times.  I heard a voice in my mind.  “Daneel?”

 

I saw her smiling at me.  It was not Jyre.  I knew the face immediately.  I opened my mouth to speak to her.  She placed her finger over my lips.  She shook her head, smiling.

 

“You know you never need to thank me.  You saved my soul, and thus I shall forever repay you.”  I felt the life come back into me slowly.  The strength.  She smiled and kissed my lips.  “I wish I could help you on your task ahead.  Know that I am with you though, always.”

 

I smiled and nodded, unable to speak.  I knew it was terribly difficult for her to do this from so far away. She was hurting herself to save me.  I wanted to tell her to stop, but I couldn’t speak.  She knew that this may be the last chance she had to help me before I went into the labyrinth.  She had told me before that there was great evil there.  She could not penetrate it.  This would be the last time I could see her, until I returned. 

 

Slowly the light dimmed, and I opened my eyes.  I was back in the storeroom.  I saw Jyre collapsed on the floor.

 

 

- Jyre:

 

"Jyre?"

 

The sound of his voice brought me back. I opened my eyes to find myself staring into his face. He looked worried.

 

"Jyre, I'm sorry. Please forgive my blindness."

 

His voice was soft and gentle, so unlike the way he spoke before. And he looked so real. I lifted my hand to brush his cheek. It brushed against cool flesh. He smiled at me. I sank away again, too ashamed to fight the weariness that gripped me any longer.

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

I paused, suddenly remembering something.  It seemed so long ago, yet not even a minute had passed.  On the floor, on my tunic, on my hands, on her dagger, the blood was gone.  I inspected my chest through the holes in my shirt.  Nothing.  I looked up slightly, and whispered a thank you.  I looked back down at Jyre.  She was breathing.  Her shoulder looked sharply dislocated.  If I worked quickly I could set it while she was still unconscious.

 

 

- Jyre:

 

I felt something tug at me, pulling me from the depths that I had sunk to. I didn't want to rise. For that would mean facing what I had done. I would rather die than live knowing I had killed him.

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

Her arm was relocated, but was still badly swollen.  I knew one way to help, but there was something I had to do first.  I glanced around the room, my eyes searching for any soft object.  A pillow, cushion, or towel would do.  Finally I saw something: my cloak.  I quickly unfastened it from my neck and laid it on the floor next to her.  It was easily twice as large as she was.  The velvet interior would be much better to rest on than this hard stone floor.

 

Carefully, I lifted her small body from the floor, and set it down on the cloak.  I cringed as she groaned, and her head hit the fabric with a thud.  This would not do at all.  Forgetting that there was nothing to be found, I glanced around the room once more.  The idea came to me, and I pulled my hat off.  I took off my gloves and stuffed them into the hat, and placed the package under her head.  She shifted around a little, and then her body seemed to relax.  It was most likely a good deal more comfortable than her bed at home.  I looked at her face.  She seemed at peace now.  Her face was marred by dirt mixed with blood and sweat.  I pushed a few strands of hair away from her closed eye.

 

“Jyre?”

 

Nothing.

 

An inspiration came to me.  I closed my eyes and concentrated.  “Please, help her as well.”  My lips moved, yet no sound came out.  “Please.”  As if guided by the force that saved me, my hand went to her shoulder.  “Thank you again,” I whispered.  I held my hand there, and I could feel the magical energy of my savior passing through me into her.  Color returned to her face.  I closed my eyes and felt myself pushing slowly harder.  I found myself leaning over her.  I could feel her begin to breathe more rapidly.  My brow furrowed, as I trusted my guide, without understanding.

 

 

- Jyre:

 

Whatever it was that called me was persistent. It granted me no peace. Slowly, against my will I rose again from those quiet depths and returned to my mind. Opening my eyes I saw him waiting for me. I almost did not recognize him with his hat off.  I was so used to his face being in shadow.  His face was narrow but not angular, and his skin a warm tan.  He had a short beard, dark copper in color, but black in the center and around the edges.  His eyes were closed, with an expression of deep concentration.  "What...?"

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

I opened my eyes as I felt her stir, and heard her voice.  I spoke the first thing on my mind.  “How do you feel?”

 

“Tired; but….”  She looked at me, slightly puzzled.  She looked at her arm, and then back to me.  “Better.”

 

 

- Jyre:

 

As I answered his question he seemed to become more real. More alive! He seemed so concerned. It made no sense. I had killed him! "You; be dead...." I meant it as an observation but he took it as a question and gave a slight nod.

 

"I almost died."

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

“What; did you do?”  She didn’t need to ask.  I knew she was bewildered.

 

“I did nothing.”  I tried to shake the look of concern off my face, but it would not budge.  “The one who saved me, she worked through me.  She saved me, and then helped me save you.”  I could tell she didn’t really care, even if she could understand.  “She wouldn’t let me die.  She would never let me die.  She is my – ” I stopped, deciding against telling her that.

 

I felt her hand grip my arm.  She uttered a word. “Sorry.” 

 

I took her hand off my arm, and placed it in mine.  “Please, forgive me Jyre.”

 

 

- Jyre:

 

Forgive him? The question brought tears to me eyes. He wanted me to forgive him? I was the one who had tried to kill him without first hearing his words. I was the one who had refused to listen. "I..." I shook my head. How could I blame him for anything? He wasn't Els's protector, any more than he was mine. If he helped every sick man he came across he would never have any time for anything else. As for the Hammers, had he ever had any choice? "Nothing… to forgive..."

 

He smiled at me and lifted his head. "Thank you." I barely heard the soft whisper.

 

Suddenly remembering why I had come, I reached into my pocket and took out the scrap of paper. "Found it... in forbidden district," I explained. "Monster came."

 

He took it from me and began to read.

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

The paper was vellum, the material used to make spell scrolls.  I examined it.  My mind cleared as I concentrated.  Several things struck me as odd right away.  For one, it was written in English.  That in itself was odd.  The thing that struck me as terribly peculiar was the fact that the scroll did not vanish when she cast it!  I realized I had been talking to myself, and then cleared my throat.  I reread the words, and recognized it as an odd variant of the “summon monster” scroll, yet much, much more.  I felt like I had found something extremely valuable.

 

 

- Jyre:

 

He mumbled something about spells and vanishing. The words were not meant for my ears, so low were they spoken. He turned to me again and he had what I can only describe as a scholar's look on his face. "Tell me of this monster." Then his face softened. "No, you must rest. May I keep this?" he asked, holding up the scrap of paper. I nodded, glad to be rid of the cursed thing. He certainly seemed to understand its purpose better than I ever it would. "Thank you." He put it away. "Where are you injured? Your shoulder? Where else?"

 

"My ankle, hard to walk. And cuts. Many cuts." I struggled to sit up, meaning to show him but he held me down.

 

"No, please, lie there. I shall be back very soon."

 

I sighed and closed my eyes. I needed to sleep

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

I ran into an adjacent store-room.  I quickly found what I needed: a heath potion, a holy water vial, a bowl, and a fire arrowhead. I quickly went back to her, and found her slumbering lightly.

 

"Here’s a little known trick I picked up a few years back," I said to her, though I suspected she wouldn’t hear.

 

 

- Jyre:

 

I opened my eyes again at the sound of his voice. He was sitting beside me, a bowl on the ground in front of him. I watched in confusion as he mixed holy water with a few drops of a healing potion. I had no idea what he planned. I waited, feeling safe in his care.

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

The mixture reacted correctly, and all that was needed was to apply heat.  I took the fire crystal, and dipped it into the clear liquid.  It reacted quickly, turning a deep green color.  I took the cloth and dipped it into the fluid, and then applied the cloth to her shoulder.  She shuddered for a second, for the liquid was still quite hot, as it needed to be.  I then took the cloth, reapplied the liquid to it, and placed it on her lacerated ankle, and then the cuts on her legs, arms, face, and anywhere else I could access without moving her and disturbing her.   The enchantress had healed her spirit and her mind, and this liquid would heal her body.  “How is that now?”

 

 

- Jyre:

 

Whatever it was he had done it worked; where there had been pain there was now only numbness. I closed my eyes and sighed in response to a question I barely heard. I felt him wrap his cloak around me like a blanket then his arms slipped under my body and he lifted me from the floor. I snuggled up against him and let my mind drift. It was the first time I had truly felt safe in weeks.

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

I took her upstairs to the guest chamber and laid her down on the queen-sized bed.  I was about to turn out the lantern and leave her to rest, but then I paused, and looked at her.

 

She was much younger than I had first deduced.  Laying there, at peace, she looked no more than fourteen or fifteen. Her hair was very short and ragged dark brown, almost black .  It most likely helped her pass off as a boy when she needed to.  I noted earlier that she had greeny-grey eyes, surprisingly intense – probably her most noticeable feature. Her face was rather plain, oval in shape, lightly tanned.  She shifted around slightly curling into a ball, and then spread out. 

 

I smiled, satisfied that I had finally done some good in this big mess.  I turned out the lantern, and then dashed back to the cellar.  I was surprised to see that only five minutes had passed.

 


Chapter 14 - A Second Chance

 

- Nightfall: The Master’s Collection of Amazing Toys - Day 10: 4:10am

 

The door was three feet of solid iron.  On it was a mirror.  I looked into the mirror, and a bright light shot out into my eyes.  Seconds latter, the door slowly began to slide upwards, opening.  I entered the passageway which it revealed. I quickly walked down a large staircase, spiraling downward.  I had not set foot in here for months.  No one but I knew it existed; except James.

 

Jyre was safe.  She had been lucky.  Maybe this was a blessing after all.  If Jyre had not stabbed me, then Cristen would never had restored me, and I would not feel nearly as good as I did now.  I came to my tower to gear up, and that was what I was now going to do.

 

I entered the secret vault.  It was lit by a pair of glowing blue crystals on either side of a mammoth doorway.  I stepped between the crystals, and an arc of energy shot between them and through me for several seconds.  The warm tingling sensation was quite pleasant actually, unless of course the person standing here was not me, for then they would be ash.  After it ceased, the mammoth door slowly drew itself open.  On the door was a high relief stone engraving of a great winged blade.  The blade, which marked the center of the door, slowly drew itself into the ground, and the two wings folded backwards, opening the door, and revealing the chamber within.

 

The room inside was long, with a high ceiling.  Light was provided by tall narrow white tubes, which lined the walls.  Inside this room was a  treasury of artifacts.  But these were not just any artifacts:  this was my armory, collected over the years of my life from my many quests, adventures, and wars.  The things I needed to navigate the Labyrinth and then find and slay The Faery Queen were here.

 

First things first, however, and that scroll Jyre had given me needed a temporary home before I could research it.  I put it on a vacant shelf, in a place I knew I would remember.

 

My second stop, after grabbing a travel pack from a shelf, was the map chest.  I browsed through the drawers, looking for a map with anything on it which resembled the cavern I had seen.  After a good ten minutes I thought I had something.  Looking at the corner of the hand drawn map, I saw something which looked just like the large cavern I had been in.  Passageways leading to and from the room were placed at opposite ends, and the whole thing was crossed by a rift running perpendicular to the passages.  The rift  was spanned by a bridge.  I was almost sure it was the same place when I saw a side note telling that the rift was filled with a very fast lava flow, and strong air current.  The complex was huge, and the map was only half drawn.  I rolled up the large map, and placed it in my travel pack.  I then took the pair of insect-like creatures from the map case, and put them in my pocket. 

 

My pocket had a hole in it.  The most disturbing thing about this was that the critters fell through my pocket and onto the floor, where they began to scurry away.  I quickly snatched them back up, and placed them in my intact pocket.  The other disturbing thing was the fact that there was a hole not only there, but everywhere else Jyre has stabbed me.  Annoyed with myself for forgetting that my clothing was destroyed, and hat, gloves, and cloak being used as bedclothes, I quickly went to the far corner of the room to a large iron wardrobe.

 

I pulled out a new tunic and pair of pants, sturdier versions, with more pockets, and changed quickly.  The tunic had a thick, armor-vest integrated into it – stylish leather armor, if you will.  I quickly moved the critters out of the old pants and into the new, where they settled down and went back to sleep.  Then I donned bracers, leg guards, a collar-like neck guard, as well as straps on which gear could be attached.  Then I chose a cloak.  It was so black I almost did not see it against the back of the wardrobe –  it looked like just a deep shadow.  It was a much lighter and simpler cloak then my usual attire - and much more functional.

 

My next stop was the weapons rack.  My glance jumped from ax to sword to mace and back again.  What should I bring?  Or more importantly, what would have the most effect on a Faery Queen?  The “Ax of Life-Stealer” perhaps?  No, I disliked battle-axes, especially ones that large, even if they did drain the life force from your foes and added it to your own.  I considered the nameless jeweled long-sword, enchanted to deal unsurpassed damage.   Nah, I had a feeling that she was the type to grow back limbs as soon as I hacked them off.  I went to the shelf where I kept the more personal weapons.  I found my obsidian, two-handed katana, which I had carried with me during the war with the Rivata back in my homeland.  No, it would be too uncanny using that again.  I made up my mind which sword to bring as soon as I saw its case. This sword had its own little vault.   I quickly went over, and pressed the stone panel next to the door.  The door rotated open, and a drawer slid out slowly.  White steam poured out of the small chamber where the blade was kept.

 

The sword was about four feet long.  It had no fancy adornments of any kind.  The blade was not smooth, nor was it worn.  It looked to be carved from solid stone.  The double edge was dull.  The hilt and hand-guard were large.  Once again, it had no special decorations or adornments.  The handle was molded to fit one hand.  The sword was held to the shelf by what had once been iron shackles, but they looked as if they had petrified to stone.  Smiling at the memories I had of this trusty blade, I took the handle in my hand, and watched the all too familiar result.  The blade seemed to electrify as a yellow pattern of light washed over it.  The stone shackles cracked, and were broken.  The sword was free, and in my hand.  When the light subsided, the blade was polished and clean, just like new, and razor sharp.

 

I smiled and touched the blade with my gloved hand, feeling the energy within.  It would not petrify its master.  The name of the sword had been forgotten long ago.  The earliest records detailed how it was discovered In a tomb, (of Praetor Loth, I believe) centuries ago, by an ancient hero in another far away realm.  After trading hands many times, it eventually came into my possession.  I never used it for an actual quest until now.  Something in me could not wait to try it out on a live adversary.  I grabbed a sheath from a hook on the wall, and attached it to my belt.

 

Though I had many sets of armor, it was easy to choose which one to bring.  There was only one obvious choice.  I had bought it from a strange man by the name of Ashford.  He said he had no use for it anymore.  His adventuring days were over, and all his friends thought he was dead.  He wanted to disappear quietly, and never be bothered by the action of life again.  I happily took it off his hands.  The armor held an enchantment I had never seen the likes of before.  It was a simple breastplate, greenish in color, and bore the letters S.F.C. on a shoulder.  It had no straps, for it needed none.  I took the plate from its place of honor, and put it over my chest, right on top of my clothing.  I felt the familiar initial feeling of discomfort as the plate liquefied and seeped through my clothing, and proceeded to cover my entire body.  If the process had not been so quick, I would have truly despised it.  It took a few seconds to regain my balance and accustom myself to my new weight and enhanced strength (I actually felt lighter with it on, even though it made me about twice as heavy).  An interesting feature of the thing was that no one could tell you were wearing it by looking at you, since it soaked through your clothing and coated your skin.  It sounds creepy, of course, but I found the concept quite ingenious.

 

Next stop, tools.  First was the obvious one.  I grabbed a set of large boots from its place on the wall.  The boots were quite heavy, covered with red scales.  These were not ordinary scales, but dragon scales.  Yes, from a real dragon. These boots were made by the hands of a ghoul tailor, using thread made from red spiders’ webs and dragon skin from a drake killed by a greater troll.  These boots were the legendary (well, not really legendary, since I was really the only one who knew about them) Dragon Skin boots.   No matter how deep, or how hot, the wearer of these boots could walk on the surface of lava unharmed.  Great stamina was still required, for even though your feet were safe, lava is still rather hot for the rest of your body.  The last owner was killed when he lost his balance while walking on a flow, fell over, and his unprotected body was incinerated.  All that was left was the boots, and a set of very cool feet.

 

There was something else I had in mind.  It was a narrow circlet, meant to be worn like a crown.  It was blue in color, constructed from jade and sapphires.  An inscription of glyphs in the inside of the band roughly translated to “sen-saronde”.  I paced it on my head.  Once again, there was that initial feeling of discomfort as suddenly the entire nature of my vision changed.  I could now see all around me.  Everything was a complete unbroken circle.  It was extremely disorienting for the first few minutes, but after that, it was actually possible for me to walk again.  It really changed the way I thought about my seeing in general.

 

Well, I thought I had it down, but when I moved forwards only to knock backwards into the wall, I knew I needed a bit of practice once more. 

 

Ten minutes latter, I was confident that I had learned how to walk again, so I glanced around the room, well, not glanced really, all I had to do was stand there and see, to find anything that I had missed.  Of course, how could I forget?  I picked up my trusty composite longbow, quiver full of fire, water, gas, rope, and broadhead arrows.  With that on my back, I grabbed a few flash bombs and various potions, (speed, health, invisibility, breath, etc.) placed them in my pocket along with the little critters I took from the map chest, and was all set. 

 

At least, I thought I was all set until I remembered the immediate problem – the rift.  I could be conservative, and grab some climbing gear, or try to pole vault it along with a speed potion, but I had another idea.  I removed the few items I had in my pack, and placed them on my person wherever they could fit.  I rummaged through a chest filled with neat junk, and found my goal.  It was a large backpack type item.  On the back was stenciled, “Property of the Order of the Hammer.  Prototype Number 473482-45234.  A Brother Thurm Design.”  Good ol’ Thurm, letting me, ahem, borrow the only successful prototype of this device.  I strapped it to my back and took another good gaze around the room.

 

Okay, I had the prototype for getting myself down into the rift, the boots to walk on the lava, the sen-saronde just because it was useful, the sword for battling that scag and her beasties, my arrows for obvious needs, potions, flash bombs, map and critters, my magic armor. Funny, I thought to myself, I would most likely end up not only not using most of this stuff, but loosing half of it.  What else did I need?  I felt like I was forgetting something.  Oh well, I would undoubtedly remember halfway there.  I needed to hurry now.

 

 

- James: For the Record - Day 10: 4:30am

 

The door locked behind me and I plopped down in my chair, right on top of a stack of weather reports.  I didn’t mind, seeing as I was exhausted and they really weren’t that uncomfortable.  I found some cold tea waiting for me on the table, and quaffed it.  I didn’t need to report anything to Daneel now.  He knew everything I had to tell.  But I had the tedious habit of recording everything.  At least I didn’t have to worry about getting him the brief.  This one would go straight into the archives.

 

 

- Nightfall: Unfinished Business - Day 10: 4:50am

 

It was nearing five AM, meaning that I had taken much more time than I had hoped.  One last thing still needed to be done.  I made my way back up to the guestroom where I had left Jyre.  I found her just as I had left her, sleeping soundly on the bed.  She was now curled up in the cloak, with only the side of her face visible.  I went over quietly and picked up my old hat and gloves, which had fallen onto the floor, and placed them on the nightstand.  I then pulled a pad from the nightstand drawer, and wrote her a short note.  I placed the note under the fruit bowl on the coffee table, and exited.

 

My next stop was the quarters of Mrs. Simon.  I knocked softly on the door and waited.  Seconds latter I heard a muffled “come in.” I opened the door and entered the dark room.  I saw Mrs. Simon, a middle-aged woman, sitting up in bed holding up the candlestick from her nightstand up so that she could see me.  “Yes, Master?” she said sleepily.

 

“Mrs. Simon, you will find in one of the guest rooms, on the ground floor of the Capricorn wing, a child, an adolescent girl, who shall be staying here for some time.  Please see to it that she has fresh clothing, and that you clean her up as soon as she wakes.  I left a note in the room.  See to it that she finds everything the way I described it in the note.  Let her sleep in, she has been through quite a bit.”

 

She nodded once.

 

“Tell Marith to prepare another breakfast as well.  I suggest you also introduce her to Zin.  They would probably be able to relate.”

 

She nodded once more.  “You are going out, I see.  When can we expect you back?”

 

I paused, thinking.  “The sooner the better,” was all I said.

 

“What time is it?”  She asked herself, holding the candle over near the clock by the bed.  It read four fifty-seven.  “Hmm, I should get on it soon.”

 

I was about to say farewell, when I remembered something else.  “Has Richen’s guest room been converted to his permanent quarters yet?”

 

“Yes, sir.  Actually, no, but almost.  A few things need to be done still.”

 

“Good.  He’ll be home sometime today.  See to it that his first day here as a resident is a pleasant one.  He has served me very well.”

 

“Yes sir,” she said with a nod.  “Will that be all?”  She pulled herself out of bed as she said this.

 

I nodded.  “Good morning,” I said with a smile.

 

She smiled and adjusted her nightgown.  “Good morning to you too.”

 

I nodded again, said, “Have a good day,” and left.

 

I went back outside as quickly as I could.  I suspected that I had forgotten something, but this was not what I had in mind.  The horse was still standing out by the gate, and the poor thing looked exhausted.  What horse wouldn’t be after a good ten-mile gallop in three hours?  This positioned me in quite a  dilemma.  I could not afford the time it would take to go by foot, nor could I take this horse. 

 

After several moments of intense consideration, I realized that it really wasn’t that much of a problem.   A little bit of alchemy was in order.  I reached for all my speed potions. 

 

“All right, Suzy, I hope these things work as well on horses as they do on people.”

 

 

- Jyre: Gentle Dreams - Day 10: 5:00am

 

Up and down. Up and down. A gull floating on a lonely stretch of sea. The waves are soft and rhythmic. A gentle breeze stirs the air. Below a fish swims through the dark depths. Its color is lost in the murky water. A single bubble rises from its lips and drifts upwards, towards the sun. Light glints inside and slowly grows until it fills the world entire. Inside its translucent depths a boy can be seen. Blonde of hair and strong of build, he giggles and chases after flowers that are not there. The sun glistens on his bare skin and the ground beneath him is filled with spring's blossoms. The boy yells and runs. The bubble shrinks once more and breaks the surface to join the thousands of others that have gone before it. The gull still floats on the water. Up and down. Up and down.

 

"Silly Stillie," I mutter as I snuggle deeper into the velvet warmth around me. Sleep's claws grip me tighter.

 

The wood 's grain runs the length of the door, its pattern unbroken. The surface is soft and warm, worn smooth by the passing of time. The handle is metal, forged into the form of a dragon. Its wings beat the air and the door slowly swings open.

 

A box. Black square and unadorned. It floated in the air before me as though awaiting my touch. I reached for it and carefully lifted the lid. It drew me inside.

 

Crossed keys carved into the bark of an aged tree. Words too small to read stamped underneath. I traced them with my fingers, feeling every notch and grove beneath my skin. Something came free and nestled snugly in the palm of my hand. A tiny lump of metal. Peering closer I found it had the shape of a 'v'.  The lump stretched out, and became a metal arrow.

 

"All is as it should be." The words were formed by the breeze as it stirred the leaves of the tree. "The words that were written will come to pass."

 

The carving on the tree flared and sizzled. Flames filled my vision. When they died back I was standing outside the city, watching as the moon slowly slid beyond the horizon, bringing a close to the night. An owl hooted in the distance. Below a mouse scurried through the thick grass. Wings flapped, feet scurried. The ground rushed away in a blur. Claws snapped out, fur was shredded. I felt myself born away in the owl's mighty grasp.

 

The hands that held me were strong but gentle. A finger brushed against the side of my face. I looked into his eyes and smiled. Warm velvet wrapped around me, holding me in its warmth.

 

 

- Ghost: Not Playing Fair - Day 10: 5:00am

 

I woke up early in the morning, before the sun came up.  It was time to start on my last intentional dealing with the Hammerites. They had caused enough problems for everyone over the years.  I wondered why no one had done something like this before.  Maybe they had.  I just never heard about it, because they didn't live to brag about it.  After I got dressed and ready I peeked in on Lytha.  She had been sleeping quietly ever since I gave her that healing potion.

 

I sat on a rooftop waiting.  Quenton would come to his small shop soon, and then would leave quickly in excitement.  I could follow him then. I had sent a note to a friend to stop by and place a large order with Quenton.  I knew he would go in person to whomever supplied him to check on the supplies. He was predictable.  That’s why I liked him.

 

The sun was starting to rise.  People were slowly coming out, opening shops in the marketplace and heading to whatever they do all day. I could see Quenton coming, a block away.  He was staggering down the street from too much drinking and not enough sleep last night.

 

I didn't have to wait long for my friend to show up.  Well, he’s not so much a friend as a courier. He stepped up and banged on the door.  As soon as it opened he stepped inside.  A few seconds later he came out, followed by Quenton.  Quenton rushed out and locking the door behind him. Following Quenton from the rooftops would be easy as long as he stayed in the center part of the city and didn't stray to where the buildings were farther apart. He rushed between buildings, along streets and alleys faster than I had ever seen him move. I guess the order that was placed, impressed him. Too bad no one would ever show up to pay for it.

 

I was feeling rather lost when he finally stopped at a door in a deep back alley and knocked. The door opened and he stepped inside. I now knew where Q-boy got his supplies.  Now I had to wait for everyone to get out of there. Maybe they would go out to celebrate or something, or at least leave for lunch. After what seemed like an eternity on the rooftop in the scorching daytime sun, the door opened and Quenton emerged, smiling. After he was gone I decided that it was entirely too hot up there and headed down to where I could keep a better watch on the door. I reversed my cloak so the torn up looking inside was visible and planted myself in plain view in the alley. Everyone ignored the beggars and I had no doubt they wouldn't care about me either.

 

I was starting to wonder if these people would ever leave, or if there was even anyone in there, when the door creaked open and a woman whom I didn't recognize stepped out and locked the door. She glanced at me as she went by, but just kept walking when I put my hand out and asked for money. "Typical pompous wench. Lets see how she feels about beggars after this." I headed to the door after she was gone and quickly picked the lock. I had no idea when she would be getting back, so I had to make this fast – I hated that.

 

I opened the door and stepped into what looked like a big storeroom, or a small warehouse.  There were lots of crates and boxes, all unmarked. "Just great," I moaned and pulled the crowbar from my pack. After cracking open several crates, I found one of the things I was looking for: mines. I grinned as I grabbed a bunch and stuffed them into my pack. Within ten minutes I had two packs full of the gear that I had come for, and had the place looking more or less like it was when I got there. I moved for the door, but heard the handle rattle when I got close. The shadows near the door were the only thing I had going for me as the woman stepped back in and started to look around. When she looked away from my spot I did the only thing I could think of. I pulled out my blackjack and bashed her on the back of the head. She dropped like a sack of laundry.  I shook my head. "Well damn, now she'll move her little shop and I'll have to keep paying for this stuff." After grabbing her money pouch I lumbered out the door with my stuff and went back to the rooftops.

 

Making my way back to the center of town was easy.  No one was on the roofs and the Hammers didn't have any posts up high enough to watch them. I ditched the packs on a roof near my target for tonight and headed back home to check on Lytha. She should be up by now and maybe wouldn't still be mad about our talk last night.

 

 

- Nightfall: Love Them Hammerites - Day 10: 6:00am

 

When I got back to the site of the lodge, I was impressed by what I saw.  They had managed to reconstruct one of the machines, using part from the other three, and had finished the road!  They set up camp in the large clearing where the lodge once stood.  Unless I was mistaken, I saw signs of preparations to build that tower of which the captain spoke.  As I approached, I was greeted by a Hammerite lieutenant. 

 

“Master Nightfall!  Brother Thurm and the captain are in the chamber you discovered below the ruins.  They asked that you come there at once upon your return.  I nodded a thanks, and made my way to the stump, or at least where it had been.  They had used the wrecking machine to actually rip the stump from the ground.  I was amazed.  I was also amazed that they managed to get it into the large pit!  I wondered how they planned to get it out.  There was now an even deeper pit in the center of the building's foundation, leading to the chamber which I had visited the last night.

 

I got down off Suzy, who was having trouble walking straight after all those speed potions, and strolled over to the hole.  I hopped in to find a rather gleeful Brother Thurm with an intense scholarly look on his face, as he jotted down notes on his pad.  “Thurm, your progress?”

 

He looked up suddenly.  “Ah yes!  Master Nightfall, ‘tis thee.  Thank the Builder.”  He paused.  “Pray, how didst thou manage to get to thy home and back here in such short time?  Why, it hast not even been 8 hours since thee left!”

 

“The Master Builder provided,” I said simply.

 

“Praise Him then!  Excellent.  Master Nightfall, please accompany me below.”

 

I did so, and followed him down the corridor, which I had explored the night before, along with a group of Hammerites designated as his bodyguards.  They had placed torches at regular intervals down the corridor, so it was lit well enough to keep us from fumbling over each other.  After what seemed to be a brief walk, we were in the mammoth chamber with the broken bridge. 

 

Once again I was amazed.  Hammerite workers were pouring over the broken hulk of the bridge, taking measurements, writing notes, and debating with one another.  Thurm broke my gaze.  “We are doing our best to decipher the best way to reconstruct this bridge.”  He said.  “Currently we lack the technology for such a task, for the chasm is very wide, and the corridor behind us is too steep and narrow to bring down heavy construction materials and equipment.  So we will have to invent a way to conquer this challenge the Master Builder has set before us.”

 

I took my mind away from his jabbering to re-associate myself with my plans.  Their presence here should not change anything. 

 

I turned to Thurm quickly.  “I’m going ahead.”

 

He gave me a startled look. “How? Why?”

 

“Because the Master Builder commands me so,” I replied, using my “one lie fits all” tactic. 

 

“I understand, but, but, how?”  He very much wanted to know how I planned to get across and/or down, so that they could do the same. 

 

“Have faith,” I simply said, a reply that’s almost as useful as “that’s a stupid question.”

 

It was time to put my plan into action.  I walked up to the very edge and looked downwards.  The lava was rushing as fast as ever, and so was the wind by the sounds of it.  It was very hot, where I stood, and much hotter down there.  My clothing was already rather damp from my sweat.  I took a deep breath, and my lungs were filled with the smell of sulfur.  I’m not sure if I was afraid or not.  I knew I was nervous, however.  I’d never tried anything like this before without the aid of magic, a method which I could no longer use.  I made sure I knew where the pull cord was on my large backpack, and gripped it tightly.  I could feel Thurm and the others watching intently, as I stood there, my toes on the edge of the chasm.  I was about to jump, when I heard Thurm shout.

 

“Hey!  That’s my –“

 

I jumped.

 

 

- Lytha: Departure - Day 10: 6:00am

 

Finally I had caught some sleep after Ghost gave me the healing potion last night. I awoke as I heard someone closing a door, and footsteps going away from the house. There was no sound of a key in a lock – good. I looked around, and found myself alone. Through the open door I could see the main room and the mess I had caused in there yesterday. Not only the papers, but also the broken porcelain was scattered around the floor. I felt guilty as I saw the chaos.

 

I realized that much of the pain had gone away. Even the headache was almost gone, and in addition to all those enjoyable facts, the voices in my head were almost silent now. The effect of that healing potion was indeed incredible. I left the bed and stood up. The expected dizziness stayed away. I could walk without the risk of stumbling and falling to the ground.

 

I went to the bathroom and washed my face. Then I looked up and stared into the mirror. Yes, I felt better. But nevertheless, my face was still badly misshapen. My left eye was swollen and black, bruises here and there, and some encrusted blood. And my hair... Well, frankly I looked like a complete mess. With this beaten up face and torn clothing I was not going anywhere.  No, I had to rearrange myself if I really wanted to go out today, and that was what I wanted. It’s what was necessary, more to say. There was no need to attract more attention than needed. I did not want people to stare at me when I was on the streets.

 

I decided to feel at home, and took a bath. The warm water relaxed my aching muscles.

 

After a while, I left the bathtub, feeling reborn, ready for the plans I made last night; but I needed some clothes. I decided to feel even more at home, and borrow some of Ghost's. I went into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe. With a raised eyebrow, I stared at its content. Did he really only wear leather? Leather trousers, shirts, gloves, shoes... Fashioned like clothes, though. Well. Definitely not my style, but I had no choice. In a drawer I found some normal underwear, not leather. I took what I needed, and found also a gray cloak. This outfit would help me to stay unrecognized.

 

"Do You Really Want To Rob From Him? Betray Him, As You Always Do?" The voices of the dead Thalias seemed to be back again. Fine. I ignored them.

 

"But he is so much stronger. Just be nice and friendly. Don't steal." The voice of the scared child, crying. As usual.

 

"Before the discussions start again: yes, it is necessary. So, shut up. All of you." I told them. I was dominating the discussions inside my own head. I was mad, no question about that. But amazingly, it had worked. They obeyed, and were silent again. The healing potion had really done a wonder. I enjoyed the short interval of absolute silence in my mind, and noticed again that the headache was gone, too.

 

And now I was ready for my plans. I left the house as it was, thinking that I would most probably never set a foot inside again, nor meet Ghost again in this life. It was most probably a suicide mission – I headed to the higher town, where my befriended shopkeeper Koyne had his shop.

 

 

- Nightfall: The Big Ride - Day 10: 6:30am

 

The rush of dropping downward was intense.  The world about me flew by, as I plummeted.  My clothing whipped about furiously.  Time seemed to go in slow motion.  I counted the seconds as I dropped.  The lava below loomed closer and closer.  At this rate, I had no prayer of landing on my feet, so the boots could not save me from the lava, let alone the impact. All at once the sensation I had been waiting for hit me: the air current. I pulled violently at the cord.


The chute burst open with an almighty BANG, violently jerking me upright from my previous slow tumble. A large white canvas bloomed forth from the pack, still attached to me by strong cords. As the air current caught it, my trajectory suddenly shifted, from downwards to wherever the current was going. Just as I planned, this parachute device caught the air current, and was pulling me along with it.

 

I traveled down the chasm, which soon became a tunnel, at a relatively quick speed.  The lava still maintained the red glow, so sight was not easy, but still possible.  Whenever I came to a fork in the tunnel, I urged myself to the right, by tugging on the cords, to keep myself going in the vague direction towards the center of the map.  The air current was slowly gaining speed, which I did not really appreciate, since the faster I went the more likely it was that I would dash myself to bits against the cavern wall. 

 

I was suddenly hit with an extremely strong air current, so strong I could barely breath.  As the current struck the canvas sail, I was jerked forward and downwards at a remarkable velocity.    I traveled at breakneck speed down the chasm, which was now a large tunnel twisting back and forth, but ever upwards.  I held my breath.  I gripped the straps of the now empty pack tightly.  My body whipped around through the air as I was shot higher, towards the surface.  I knew that at any moment I could strike one of the walls of this tunnel, and my body would shatter. Suddenly I felt the current shift, and I was pulled violently straight downwards!  The current and I were now traveling roughly straight down, deeper and deeper into a vertical shaft.  I strained my eyes to see, but could not, for the dense dust in the air.  I could barely make out my parachute below me, as it dragged me deeper and deeper.  This was not the plan at all. 

 

Suddenly, I saw it.  A light up above.  It was then that I realized that I was now traveling down the long vertical shaft of a volcano.  This was definitely not the plan!  I had to figure out some way to stop my descent, and fast.  The answer came to me without me even thinking about it.  I didn’t even have to do anything.  The air current ceased.

 

I didn’t have time to ponder the mechanics of it all, since I was now falling like a rock.  Somehow the parachute had folded in on itself, and no longer was able to slow my descent. The worthless pile of canvas above me thrashed about, doing little to halt my downward spiral.  I wasn’t happy at this point.  I knew I still had my wits about me, which was a plus, but it was hard to think in free fall, especially in a barely lit volcano shaft full of dust, debris, sulfur, ash and the like.

 

As welcome as it was, the sudden jolt of the chute reopening was very painful.  If I had not been wearing my armor, my ribs would have been smashed.  The first thing I did was reach onto my head and pull off the sen-saronde.  It was more of a handicap than a use at this point.  Reaching over my shoulder, I slid It carefully into my backpack.

 

One again I had my bearings, was in control, and had no idea where I was.  I looked about at the strange alien world I was now a guest in.  Cutting rifts in the blackness were lava falls, some oozing out of the walls of the shaft, and some flowing out of other large tunnels.  I had very little idea anymore of which way was which, so I had little more then random guessing to guide me.

 

At one point it occurred to me to look downwards, and then I realized that I didn’t need to choose a direction to travel at all.  Far below me I could make out shapes.  I saw a pool of lava, crisscrossed by walkways, and with a large structure in the center.  I strained to see details, but could make none out.  I looked back at my immediate surroundings, and was amazed that I could make out slight details of the features around me.  Perhaps the sun had moved to let more light in from the volcano’s opening up above.  I didn’t ask questions, I just took advantage of my new situation.  Satisfied that I only had to wait for myself to descend  I relaxed and enjoyed the ride.   

 

Unfortunately, there is always something that never lets you just wait and rest.  I was still unsure as to the mechanism responsible for these currents of air deep underground, but what happened next made me regret placing myself at their mercy.  The draft returned, but rather then sucking air into the volcano, it was now blowing it out, and me with it.  I was going up.


Chapter 15 - Guests in Alien Realms

 

- Jyre: A Guest in Nightfall’s Estate - Day 10: 7:00am

 

My body was warmed by the sun's rays coming in through the gap in the shutters. My face lay atop something smooth and soft. I squirmed inside the folds of the cloak, not wishing to wake, but something niggled at me until I opened my eyes. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. It seemed very high. It wasn't the plain drab wooden boards I was used to, but a painted substance that had been molded into a relief. There was a large central circular panel, inside of which was set the scene of a forest canopy, so you felt as though you were staring up through the branches at a beautiful blue sky. Flying around this scene were an unbroken chain of dragons, each one a different color. I stared up at them for a long time, thinking of the short time I had been away from this place, when I had witnessed such magnificent scenes myself. I had been in the care of a blind healer, Lysander, who had claimed the very forest as his home, and I had lain in amongst the fern leaves and stared up at such a sky. "See those clouds?"  Els had asked me. I had turned my head to watch his time-worn features. "They are called 'Dragon clouds', because of their distinctive shape."

 

I sighed and climbed out the huge bed and walked over to the shutters. Pulling them open, I was washed by the sun's warmth and I felt the small tear of sadness that had clutched my heart dry up. Els had moved on from this life. Dwelling on the past would not bring him back.

 

The view from the small window was amazing. I could see the entire city spread out before me, its buildings like tiny models and its people like ants. And there was the river, cutting through it like a snake. I could make out the Cathedral, a huge monstrosity set in the very center of the city. Beyond that lay the slums, where Els and I had had our small hut. I smiled slightly at that thought. We may not have had much, but it had been ours.

 

I stepped from the window and looked around. Nightfall's cloak was still draped across my shoulders and threatened to trip me up with every step I took. The room was at least double the size of my hut and the carpet alone must had been worth more than I had earned in my entire life! The whole place spoke of wealth. The carpet beneath my bare feet was thick and soft. The sheets that draped the bed were made of a material so thin that it looked as though it would tear with a single touch, and yet it was stronger than anything I had ever known. Standing there, filthy and in rags, I felt like an intruder in a sacred world.

 

I walked around the bed and sat down on its edge. I couldn't believe I had been so privileged as to sleep in it! I was used to making my bed on a straw stuffed sack and yet here I was perched atop a real mattress. To have lain, wrapped in Nightfall's lined cloak, would have been sufficient but he had been kind enough to grant me the use of a bed. I shook my head in confusion. It seemed a very strange way to treat someone who had tried to kill him.

 

My eyes strayed to the bowl of fruit that sat atop a solid oak dresser. The sight of so much food in one place made my mouth water. I found myself reaching out to take a piece. Just as my fingers were curling around the apple's unblemished skin I spotted a crisp white square of paper weighed down by the bowl. I pulled it free and ate as I read.

 

Jyre,

 

Welcome to my home.  I hope your stay here is pleasant.  I’m sure you will find my servants to be friendly, and helpful.  I had some new clothes left for you in the dresser.  That’s it by the door.  No, not the thing by the bed, the thing by the door.  See it now?  Good.  I know you prefer freedom, but I must request that you stay in the manor until I get back.  I know you will do as I ask.  Thank you.

 

-Daneel

 

I smiled when I saw how the letter was signed. Finishing the apple, I glanced around for somewhere to dispose of it, saw nothing obvious and tossed it out the open window instead. I was about to go to the dresser and open it when the door opened slightly and a head peeked through. I froze, as I fought to keep my instincts from kicking in.  I reminded myself where I was, and that I did not need to fear detection.  It was a middle aged woman, with sandy blond hair and soft blue eyes.  She smiled, causing her entire face to wrinkle up pleasantly.  "Awake at last," she beamed. Pushing the door open she stepped into the room.  She was dressed in a simple, yet elegant, dark gray outfit, the likes of which I had never seen before.  "And how are you feeling this morning?"

 

"F-fine," I hurried over to the dresser and pulled open the drawer, needing something to occupy myself with. I hadn't been expecting company!

 

"Here, let me help you." Before I could get a proper look in the drawer she had taken something out and held it up. "A little on the big side but it'll do." I studied the rich fabric top she held up, with its full-length sleeves, small collar and single pearl button. Before I could protest that it was too good for me she had pulled Nightfall's cloak free of my shoulders and just stood there studying me as though I were a piece of furniture! "A bath first, I think."

 

"Bath!" I blurted thoughtlessly. I must've sounded very ignorant for she gave me a look of total shock. I coughed to clear my throat. "Master Nightfall can afford baths?"

 

She chuckled, either at her own misunderstanding or my foolishness, and took my hand. "Yes, child." Her tone had changed so she sounded as though she addressed a simpleton. "A nice warm steamy bath." With that she led me out the room and down a hallway to a door which, judging by the steam coming from around its jam, led into the bathroom. "In you go lass. I'll lay your clothes out on the bed for you. When you're ready, take yourself down to the kitchen for breakfast." With that she took her leave. I lifted my hand to the doorknob, turned it and stepped into the waves of steam.

 

 

- Nightfall: Flaming Chutes - Day 10: 7:00am

 

The canvas of the parachute was now pulling me up faster then would be natural for a fall.  This would not do at all.  I did the only think that I really could do;  urge myself towards one of the walls.  It wasn’t the best idea, granted, but it was preferable to all-out death.  The parachute hit one of the lava falls pouring from a rather large tunnel, and instantly burst into flames.  Dammit.

 

What happened next was really quite a blur.  Suddenly I was surrounded by the flames of the burning canvas, and them slammed against the shaft wall!  As soon as I regained my senses, and once again thanked my protection, I realized that some of the cords from the now incinerated chute had melted into a tangled mass, and managed to jar themselves in the rock formations on the wall.  My relief of rescue was cut short with the realization that I was about five feet from a very ugly looking lava fall.

 

Grabbing the cords, I pulled myself upwards slowly.  My objective was now very deep below, and I could barely make it out.  I wouldn’t be going down this way anymore.

 

 

- Jyre: Myr-Zin - Day 10: 7:10am

 

I toweled myself down, pulled on the clothes Daneel had left and stepped into the hallway. There was a boy standing there waiting for me, nervously shuffling his feet on the carpet.

 

"You Jyre, miss?" he asked shyly. He must have been about twelve or thirteen, slim built but tall with sandy brown hair and soft brown eyes.

 

"Yeah." I brushed back my wet hair. "Why?"

 

"Got to take you to the kitchen, miss." So saying he turned and walked away. I had to run to catch him up. "Cook's made yer breakfast," he added hastily.

 

I watched his back as he walked, feeling rather uncomfortable. By the way he had his shoulders hunched I could tell I wasn't the only one.

 

"What's your name?"

 

"Myr-Zin, miss." He didn't look up as he spoke and his pace seemed to quicken. He led me to a flight of stairs.

 

"Odd name," I noted casually.

 

His back visibly stiffened when I said that. He came to a halt just ahead of me. "Myr-Zin is my slave name, miss," he said softly.

 

"Oh." I felt a chill run through my body. "You're a slave?"

 

"Was, miss. Belonged to the Myr family. Then some thief got me out and brought me here. I work for Master Nightfall now." I had no answer. He just stood there, staring at his toes. Then he let out a long sigh. "I like it here." He turned to face me, slowly lifting his eyes. "He rescued you too, didn't he?"

 

I nodded. "I didn't deserve it." I watched him as he watched me, waiting for him to speak. It seemed that he had the same idea. The continued silence made me want to say something. "What's Master Nightfall like?" I asked, settling my back against the wall behind me.

 

He frowned as he thought. "He is a good man, miss. He never asked no questions when I came here. Just fed me good and let me stay. All he wants is for me to work hard. And he don't get angry. Never hit me none, neither." Zin paused and shook his head. "It is good here. You will like it."

 

"And the Hammers?" I had to ask. That letter I had found the day before still bothered me.

 

He suddenly dropped his eyes and turned away. "Don't know what you mean, miss."

 

"He works for them. Doesn't he?"

 

The boy suddenly spun around, his eyes glittering in delight. He glanced about, checking no one was listening, then stepped closer. "Promise not to tell anyone?"

 

"Who would I tell?" I asked, repeating his actions. Everyone I know's either miles away or dead."

 

He grinned. "Welllll,” he said, drawing out the word, “It be like this. Them Hammers, they call the Master their prophet and says he speaks to gods and such. One o' them brothers that came here told me himself. But I know better." The boy giggled. "The Master, he tells me they are like his toys. He pushes and prods and they all go running just like he says. Can make them do anything he wants. And so blind are they in their belief that not a one can see the truth! Makes me laugh to watch it – to see them all scuttle!" He stepped away suddenly and glanced down the stairs. "Have to go," he mumbled and hurried away. I thought on his words as I followed, wondering if I dared believe them.

 

 

- Nightfall:  Dragon Skin - Day 10: 7:10am

 

I managed to pull myself up to where the lava fall was pouring out of a tunnel.  Setting foot on solid ground at last, I released myself from the cords, and discarded them.  I would have to find some way to repay Brother Thurm for the device, which, in spite of the circumstances, worked extremely effectively. 

 

I looked down the tunnel, which was round, with a diameter of roughly thirty feet.  A lava stream oozed ever-outwards, but the current was slow enough to allow me to walk on it, provided I didn’t stumble, that is.  I didn’t have much of a choice, really, for the lip of cold stone I now stood on only went about twenty feet down, and then it was all lava.  I prayed that this tunnel didn’t hold any nasty surprises, and began my trek by foot.

 

I heard a hiss as I stepped onto the molten rock, and the dragon-scale boots actually seemed to contract a little, as if the skin was still alive, and reacting to the heat.  Battered but unbroken, I moved slowly upstream.

 

- Jyre:  Far Too Much Breakfast - Day 10: 7:20am

 

I stared at the plate of food that had been set in front of me in disbelief. "This is breakfast? But there's so much!" To be honest I didn't even know what half of it was. I looked up at the cook and smiled. "Thank you." I tried very hard not to eat like a pig but with all those wonderful smells filling my nostrils I found it hard not too. I pulled my dagger (now clean) from my belt and stabbed the largest slice of meat on the plate. The overlong sleeve of the top I had been left unraveled itself and tangled itself around my hand. I sighed and rolled it all the way to my elbow, not wanting to get it dirty. I would've preferred to put my own clothes back on after my bath but someone had taken them away before I could protest. I could just imagine all the stares I would get outside walking around in such overlarge and obviously expensive garments. I would no doubt have at least one Hammer on my tail merely for that. I had just raised the knife to my mouth when Nightfall's butler walked in.

 

"Really, miss!" he said in a most perturbed tone of voice. "Did no one ever teach you how to use a fork?" I stared at him blankly. He sighed rather loudly. "And your outfit!" He fussed over me for at least five minutes after that, straightening creases, refolding sleeves and who knows what else until he was finally satisfied. I tolerated the prodding with as little complaint as I could manage. When he tried to make me use this thing called a fork I finally lost my temper and snapped at him! "Well!" he turned up his nose at me and snorted.

 

“Oh Jossimer, leave the poor lass alone!  I don’t know how the Master puts up with you, but to this poor girl you must be a horrible monster!”

 

I watched him walk out the room with a huff and grinned.

 

"Not hungry?" the cook said, in a tone much different then she had just used.

 

I glanced down at the barely touched plate and shook my head.  A full slice of meat and an apple was more food than I was used to eating in one day, let alone a single sitting! "It was good though. I just don't have much of an appetite, that's all. I think I'll go outside for a while. I need to stretch my legs." And get away from all this smothering, I added to myself.  I hated myself for letting this food go to waste, Els and I never wasted anything.

 

"But the Master Nightfall said you were ill. He would not be pleased if I let you wander around outside whilst you are still recovering. There is plenty you could be doing inside."

 

I checked a sigh and stood up. I should've seen that one coming. "Would it be okay if I looked around the library?"

 

"Of course, my dear. I'll get Jossimer to show you the way."

 

"No, thank you," I mumbled quickly. "M-master Nightfall left me a map in my room. I'll be able to find it."  I hoped that my lie was not too obvious.

 

"If you're sure."

 

I dashed out the door, not waiting for any more to be said.

 

 

- Nightfall:  Fire Element - Day 10: 7:30am

 

I pressed myself into a dark crack as I saw the bright orange orb float gently by.  It was a perfect sphere, radiating with a churning pattern of flame, with a trail of glowing gas forming a tale behind it.  The solemn creature was a wonder to behold.  It was a fire elemental, native to areas like this, and very dangerous.  I was the intruder in its realm, so I chose concealment over confrontation.  If I attacked it with a water arrow, which would extinguish it, its dying cries would summon its kin, and then there would be hell to pay.  No, I waited, and watched as it dropped out of sight, and then continued my way down the upwardly sloping lava-tube.  

 

 

- Jyre:  A Luxurious Prison - Day 10: 7:30am

 

"Damn him!" I kicked the side of the bookcase, which only made my toes throb even more inside the cramped boots. I pulled them off angrily and tossed them at the door. It was obvious he didn't want me to leave. I gave the bookcase a thump. My sleeve unraveled and dangled over my hand. "Why?" I started to pace the floor but had to stop before the trousers tripped me. "Don't you trust me?" I asked out loud, then laughed at the stupidity of my own question. Why should he trust me? I had tried to kill him! I started to pace again. The Hammerites. The name flitted through my head but I dismissed it. If he had intended to turn me over he wouldn't have healed me first. "What then?"

 

I paused for a moment and studied the spines of the books that filled the bookcase that lined three of the four walls. More signs of his wealth. I felt smothered in here! I grabbed one at random and started flicking through it without any knowledge of what I hoped to find. It fell open near the center. The left hand page was covered in text, the right had a picture of a strange mythical beast with the title “Dryad”. In the margin, in Master Nightfall's neat script, were the words “Query James”. I slammed the book shut and returned it to the shelf. I had my answer. If anyone knew what Nightfall was up to, James would. Now all I had to do was get out of here. But how?  I knew little of the layout of the mansion.  In my frustration I dropped to the carpeted floor, and lay down with a sigh.   My eyes then burst open wide.  On the far wall, near the ceiling, was a map of the Mansion!  It was really more of an artist’s rendering, with most of the details left out and a few of the wings had no details whatsoever, but it was enough.  I studied it for several moments, plotting.  No doubt the two entrances I knew of would be watched so I needed to find one that was more obscure. My eyes were drawn straight to the area distorted by shadows, no doubt meant to signify that no one was supposed to go there. It seemed the best place to start looking.

 

 

- Nightfall:  Pressing on - Day 10: 8:00am

 

I’m not sure when I realized how tired I was, I only knew that I was.  The last time I had slept had been two days ago, back with the Hammerite task force.  It seemed like ages ago, now.  I glanced down at the map, which was spread out before me in my hands.  The insects were now doing what they were meant to do:  scurry about the paper and draw the map with their natural ink. 

 

One of the bugs excitedly drew something up ahead with a sharp edge.  Looking up to see the anomaly, I was relieved at what came into view.  I picked up the pace, getting closer so I could discern exactly what this man-made structure was.  It looked to be a building, half-encased in rock, and half-submerged in the lava.  Cautiously, I approached, keeping near the wall of the tunnel.  My ears could only hear the general rumble of the lava beneath my feet, and all around me.

 

I peered into one of the windows, and saw a dark interior.  A passageway on the far side of the room lead into inky blackness.  I made it through the lava tunnels, and had found an entrance to the labyrinth. 

 

 

- Jyre:  Camouflage - Day 10: 8:00am

 

I wound my way through the maze of rooms and corridors, trying my best to follow my recollection of the map.  Twice I took a wrong turn and had to double back, but now I felt certain I was on the right course. The ground here was sloping slightly downwards, the rooms were becoming less frequent and less used.  Mildew was eating at the brickwork. Not even the richest people, it would seem, could keep that little parasite from encroaching where it wished. The plan was simple enough. I had found the address of James' flat in the letter I had read the day before and finding it wouldn't prove too difficult. Once there I would find out where Daneel had gone using whatever means were necessary. I had been thinking about it more as I made my way down here and I was starting to worry. I remembered him saying,  “There is still time..." Then he had said, "I know what she's doing..." If the “she” he was talking about was who I thought it was, I needed to be with him. I had gotten him into all of this, it wasn't fair of me to leave him to face her on his own. I turned another corner and stepped into sunlight.

 

The day was too warm for my liking. I preferred it to be much cooler with a little more shade. Still, I had no reservations about stripping off the top I wore. There was no one around to see me after all. I felt a pang of guilt as I took out my dagger and sliced the button of the collar. But that was all it was, a pang. He had left me with little choice. The button I slipped into my belt pocket. I had at least managed to retain that. The sleeves were next. I cut them off just above the elbow, leaving threads hanging free. Then I took the whole thing and rubbed it in the dirt until it looked worn and old. I felt rotten doing something so terrible to something that was obviously valuable but I could hardly go around dressed like a Lord's daughter now, could I? The trousers faced a similar fate, though I didn't need to take them off. I just cut them short and rolled about on the ground for a while. This little bit of madness also helped disguise the fact that I had bathed. Street rats don't often go around with clean skin and perfectly combed hair. Satisfied that I now looked as I should, I started picking my way down the hillside.

 

 

- Nightfall:  Gray - Day 10: 9:00am

 

I wearily pressed on, though, through these nondescript corridors, forks, t-junctions, intersections, and so forth.  The map told me where I had been, but not where I was going.  I pressed on for what seemed like hours.  Something struck me as not quite right, but I could not put my finger on it.  It wasn’t the air, for it was quite stale, nor the temperature.  It was the light, or lack thereof, and my ability to see.  Everything had a strange green tint to it, the walls, myself, even the dust in the air.  I could not say where this light was coming from, but I was grateful.  I spiraled deeper and deeper, towards the temple, I thought, and to the Faery Queen.

 

Finally, I came to something new.  I was now in a large, domed chamber.  All of the walls still bore the same pattern, the pattern I had first seen in the tunnel which lead from the lodge’s basement to the great chamber, scraped by the men or creatures who dug it.  There were seven paths to take, and I was slightly unsure of my direction.  Everything was very quiet, but not quiet enough.  All the way the only sound I had heard had been my own barely audible breath and footsteps.   At the moment I should have only been able to hear my breath, but there was something else, another sound, which I couldn’t quite put my finger on.  I wasn’t even sure if I was really hearing it.  It was more of a feeling that there was a noise, rather than actually hearing it.  It was hard to explain, even to myself. I felt my brow lower with concern.  Something was not right.  There was no light, yet I could see, and now I was hearing things, yet I couldn’t.

 

I took a step forward.  The sound of my own footstep echoed in my ears.  I felt drawn closer to the center of the room.  I took another step.  My footfall sounded like a hammer falling on marble.  The sound in my mind became louder, more concrete.  It was a low, deep, chanting sound.  Thousands of voices in unison.  I stepped again.  Turning my head, I could see every exit from the room.  It was a perfect circle, no one part any different from the others.  The chanting grew louder.  I took another step.  The sound of my footstep was nearly unbearable, yet it did not phase me.  I was almost to the center.  There was only a few more steps to go.  The chanting was now even louder. I could almost make out words.  I stepped again.  The volume of the chanting in my head nearly matched the thunder of my footstep in my ears.  The room seemed to spin around me, yet I remained stationary.  My body felt numb.  I was aware of everything, but not started nor disturbed by any of it.  It was all natural, as it was meant to be.  I stepped again, into a small gold circle in the very center of the room. 

 

All was silent again.  I was not alone. 

 

Seven figures, sitting in seven thrones, were seated above the seven exits.  The all wore gray robes, which covered their entire bodies.  Their gray-gloved hands were folded on their laps.  Their faces were hidden beneath the shadows of their hoods.  They were looking at me.  All of them identical, yet I felt a different type of presence from each of them.  Everything was quiet.  I could no longer even hear my own breath.  I didn’t even know if I was still breathing.  I didn’t even know which direction I faced, though it didn’t seem to matter.  I could see all of them, just as all of them could see me. 

 

I don’t know how long I stood there, motionless, not breathing, my mind in some sort of bizarre peace.  It could have been hours, days, even years.  It didn’t matter.  Time itself had stopped for me.  They all spoke at once, with the same voice.  Seven mouths, speaking in once voice, saying the same words.

 

“You, he who serves those above, those who created all, those who created us, those who created good and evil, light and darkness, those who created the earth and the sky and heaven and hell, why have you come here?”

 

I did not speak.  Words flowed from my mind.  You must be mistaken.  I do not work in the service of the creators, I am an outsider from a faraway realm.  I came here, to this labyrinth, to stop a great evil from destroying the balance.

 

“Why do you seek to maintain the balance?  That task is of those whom you know as Keepers.  You are not a Keeper.”

 

I feel that the preservation of balance is vital for the continuation of civilization.

 

‘What makes you believe the creators wish this evil stopped?”

 

I do not understand of what you speak.  I have come here to do what I know needs to be done.  No force commanded me as such, it was of my own free will.

 

There was a pause.  A long pause.

 

“This evil has violated our domain.  We existed here in peace.  They have forced us from our home using dark magic.  We now exist in Limbo.  We suffer.  We do not understand why this evil has done this.  We sensed your presence, a soul more powerful than any we have encountered before.  We understood why you came.  We understood who you are.   We understood that you shall help us.  We guided you here so that we may help you help us.”

 

How will you help me?  What must I do?

 

“We do not know how this evil can be stopped.  Evil is not of our nature.  We cannot comprehend.  We cannot fight what we do not understand.  You are a man.  Evil is in your nature.  You understand evil.  You can fight evil.  You can destroy evil.  We will guide you to this evil, but can do no more.”

 

I shall do as you need of me.

 

“We thank you.”

 

I inhaled.  The sensation was almost uncanny.  I glanced about.  The room was exactly how it was when I first entered.  I was standing in the center.

 

 

- Lytha:  Shoplifting - Day 10: 9:00am

 

Koyne stared at my face. Then his gaze wandered down to his own dagger in my hands, the one pointed at his throat. He was sweating.

 

"But Lytha – "

 

"No word."

 

He closed his mouth fast and stared nervously at my eyes. I had entered his shop, shortly before he closed it for noon. I knew that he used to spend this time of the day in his office, reading some papers. I had snuck into his office, and I had stolen his own dagger from his belt. Now we were in the back office of his shop, and his hands were already tied behind his back.

 

"I think it is better for you to forget that I was here. Everything. You know what a beast I can be."

 

He nodded slowly.

 

"Okay." I gagged him with a handkerchief, and left the office. I had already locked the entrance, but I checked it again. No need to take more risks than needed. I placed the sign "Closed" in the window of the door.

 

Koyne had a well-sorted little shop. In  addition to the legal front room, where he sold clothes and regular weapons, he had also a sort of hidden back room. There he sold everything that a thief might ever need. I bought my stuff here, whenever I needed some. I had no idea where he got the stuff, but he always had some of the really rare items.

 

I went back to the office, and opened the hidden door with the switch under the desk. He was still down there in the corner of the floor, staring nervously at me. I ignored him and entered the back room.

 

The back room was definitely bigger than the front room. No wonder, that was the place where he got the real money. I went to the potions, and was once again amazed at what he had here. I took some of each, more healing potions than others. He had also the famous mushroom tea potions here, I noticed with a grin. I took one, maybe it could be of help if I could make someone drink it.

 

I equipped myself with a blackjack, and tested the bows he had. I found a really pretty short bow that I could easily hide under the cloak, as I used to do. I took some daggers, and a huge amount of arrows of all kinds, as many as I could put in the quiver. Koyne had a really good collection here. The lockpicks were in the secret drawer of the desk. I knew that because I had bought my last ones here. I went to Koyne and took his key to open the lock. His gaze was really not amused. I tried to ignore him anyhow, and took some lockpicks. He had the strings, for tying unconscious guards, in the drawer, too. I equipped myself. Finally, I grabbed a small box of matches, and went back to Koyne.

 

He stared really scared at me when I drew his dagger out off my boot, but I was not that mad. I dropped the dagger on the floor, hilt pointing at him, where he could get it to untie himself.

 

"Koyne, I'm sorry. If I should return alive, I will pay the bill. I have no time to explain now. Sorry, again."

 

I left the shop. I had surely not left a friend back in there. But if necessary, I would clear this later with him.

 

 

- Jyre:  Meeting an Old Friend - Day 10: 10:00am

 

I watched as the two Hammers passed by the tiny tunnel that ran between the two houses, counted to a hundred in my head and stepped back out onto the dirt street. I hadn't taken more than two paces when someone who was obviously in a hurry slammed into my back. I turned angrily, my dagger already in my hand. The person who had done the bumping looked even more surprised than I was.

 

"J-Jyre."

 

I lifted the dagger to his throat. "You following me?"

 

He shook his head quickly. "No. J-just doing a little shopping." He lifted the parcel he was carrying and made a horrible grimace of a smile.

 

I snorted and shook my head. "Somehow I can't picture the mighty Ramirez doing his own shopping for pleasure." With a poke of my dagger I steered him up against the wall, away from the main flow of traffic. I considered the package for a second then shook my head. I didn't care about it. "I can, however, see him sending someone away to die."

 

He shook his head vigorously. "Never!"

 

I lifted the dagger to his cheek and pressed it hard against his flesh. A single pearl droplet of blood formed at its point and slowly slid down the blade, leaving a thin shimmering trail on the cool iron blade. I watched it, fascinated. That little droplet held his life inside. With a single flick of my wrist I could turn the trickle into a flood and drain him of his life. It was amazing that everything that went into making a person was dependent on such a simple, easily-shed liquid. The droplet came to nestle on my hand. I lifted my eyes to look into Ramirez's own. "Those supplies you gave me were duds."

 

His tongue flashed out as he licked his lips. I could see his little brain ticking away as he searched for a valid excuse. "I didn't know, I swear! The whole batch was kaput. I only found out –" His words ended in a squeal as I dragged my blade down his cheek. Blood swelled in two neat parallel lines where the blade's edges had ripped open his face. I smiled at the damage I had done to his precious looks.

 

"No one likes damaged goods, Ramirez," I said, switching the now bloody weapon to my other hand and resting against his unblemished cheek. "Which is what you'll become if you don't tell me truth." He followed my gaze, comprehended my meaning and gave a tiny nod. "Good. Now kindly tell me why you wanted me dead."

 

More hesitation. I wasn't feeling very patient. He gained a matching pair of cuts on his other cheek. I slid the blade downwards. He suddenly seemed very happy to talk. "She asked me to do her a favor –"

 

"She?"

 

"Lady Morganna! I just passed on a message and made sure you got the dud supplies. That's all I did."

 

Morganna?  The Lady!  I snorted. "All? You must find her very; entertaining; if you're willing to kill for her." I was about to add more when I saw his eyes flick to the side. I followed the glance and spotted the Hammer patrol making its way down the street. One of them happened to look my way, saw the dagger in my hand and raised his voice in alarm. I fled.

 


Chapter 16 - New Alliances

 

- Jyre: Live to Thieve Another Day - Day 10: 10:20am

 

Fighting my way through the press of the crowd wasn't easy and I knew it wouldn't take long for the Hammers to barge their way through. All it took was one look from those bastards and the crowd parted for them. I dived to the ground and half-crawled, half-ran between the confusion of legs, hoping I didn't manage to get myself turned around in the maze I had plunged myself into. I headed towards what I hoped was the main market, somewhere I knew I could easily get myself lost. Finding a relatively clear spot in the road, I scrambled to my feet, glanced behind me to find the Hammers still in pursuit. I sprinted off towards the little-used side street on my right.

 

I was slowed as tried to dodge around a huddle of people who had managed to block off most of the street's entrance. Fear made my breath hard to come by. I could almost feel the Hammer's hand reaching out to grab me and haul me back. Breaking clear of the mob, I darted down the narrow path, swerving to avoid the raw sewage that dotted the mud and the small mound of rubbish that had been piled up against one wall.

 

“Halt, lest the wrath of the Builder be unleashed upon thee!”

 

I came to halt when I reached the end of the small lane and glanced in both directions. "Damn!" I was not where I thought I was. I turned right, following the main flow of the crowd, although this street was a good deal quieter than the last one had been. Too quiet to lose myself in. The sleeve of my tunic flapped against my arm and I suddenly had the picture of myself trying to run down a crowded street dressed in an oversized pair of trousers and tripping over them with every step I took. I must've laughed out loud because the vendor I was passing stared at me as though I were mad.

 

There wasn't a single side street to turn down or wall to climb, just house after house all tightly packed together like terrified children. I risked a look over my shoulder. My pursuers were still there, showing no signs of tiring. I was glad when the road finally split. I went left as that was the side I was closest too, spotted a welcome wall where some vendors had set up their stalls and ran straight for it. I jumped onto the first stall I came to, landing on top of some rather gaudy jewelry and cutting open the soles of my feet. The stall-holder let out a rather angry yell. I ignored him as I leapt for the top of the wall. I sent the jewelry spinning across the dirt as I sprang. I caught the top of the wall with the tips of my fingers, kicked with my feet and somehow managed to scramble over. I was running again as soon as my feet hit solid ground, not even bothering to check if I was still being pursued.

 

I must have spent a good hour making sure there would be no further pursuit, taking every back-alley and side street I could find, trying to mix in with the crowd when I had to, but mostly staying out of sight. When I finally stopped to take my bearings I let out a rather perverse curse. I had only gone and taken myself right back to the city's main gates!

 

 

- Nightfall: Contemplation - Day 10: 10:30am

 

As time passed, I thought of what had happened.  I did not fully understand, but I knew that nothing had changed, really.  I just had more friends than I counted on, or at least, my enemy had more enemies than I counted on.  I had heard of beings which dwelt deep below the earth, beings which did not quite exist in our definition of reality, but I never expected to meet one, let alone seven.   They had guided me this far, and I was now aware of their guidance as I pressed ahead.  I rarely glanced at my map anymore, understanding that I knew where I was going, even though I really didn’t. 

 

One thing still bugged me; the way they referred to me as some type of servant to the creators.  Now, I could have just assumed the obvious teaching, that we all serve the creator, but somehow I didn’t think that they meant that.  The Hammerites think that I am the emissary to their Master Builder.  Could these beings also think that of me?  Somehow I doubted it.  Could they know more about me then I did?  It was possible.  I had all the time in the world to think about it, as I walked from hall to hall, and just contemplated.  The words of the Keeper I met in the street suddenly came back to me, as if he had just spoken them.

 

“Many forces are at work here, but they all lead to one. Choose one path, not all, and follow it, and the key shall be apparent. If you walk too many paths, you doom yourself to hardship."

 

They were right about one thing; there were many forces at work here, more then I took into account.  Whose path was I walking?  I was walking Jyre’s path, and the Hammerite’s path, and the path set out by these beings, and above all, my own.  Who else’s path was I walking?

 

Aside from all of that, I had another contemplation buzzing around in my skull.  My hearing had returned to normal, but not my vision.  I could still see rather well, though there was no light at all.  Everything seemed to have a greenish hue, including myself.  Perhaps it was them granting me vision. For some reason I doubted it.  I pressed on.

 

 

- Jyre: Live to Thieve Another Day - Day 10: 11:30am

 

People were staring. I could feel their eyes watching me. I kept to the shadows and alleyways wherever I could but every time I had to cross a street or enter a busy part of the city I knew they turned and watched me. Paranoia – that's probably all it was. But it kept me alert and I managed to avoid several Hammer patrols because of it. I was heading for the edge of the slums, where James had his flat and where my strange attire would, hopefully, go unnoticed. Taking such a roundabout route, it took me at least two hours to reach the right street. Once there I just stood and stared up at the flat's windows. I had never met James before and, as always, I could feel my pulse quicken at the thought of introducing myself to a stranger. I was never happy with other people's company. I was a loner. If I were to tell the truth I would have to admit that talking to people scared me! Which no doubt explained why I knew so few people. I forced myself to move forward, telling myself that Daneel needed my help. The hardest part was forcing my foot up onto the first step. Once that was done I almost ran the rest of the way, past a number of smelly bodies lying in blankets on the stairs.  They watched me go past with bored, rheumy eyes.  At the top of the stairs I came to a locked door. I took a deep breath, forced my breathing to relax, and pounded on the door.  A voice called back distractedly, “Just a minute, Jyre, while I find my keys.”  It trailed off into a mumble, saying something like, “Now where was that paper… Oh yes… And therefore…”

 

I had begun to pace nervously outside the door whilst listening to the sounds of rustling papers and barely understood mumbles about keys. I was at a disadvantage already. He obviously knew me, or of me, anyway. When I had knocked he had answered me by name. I didn't like it. I heard the lock trip and the door swung open to reveal an unkempt man. He looked at me, blinked and seemed to recall himself. "Please, come in. Would you like some tea?"


I stepped past him, muttering a quick, “No.” Not very polite, I know, but I was starting to lose my patience. James shut the door again and led me into a room that I can only describe as a shambles. There were papers and books quite literally everywhere. The floor was covered with them, as was the table and the chairs and every other surface that I could spot! James hastily cleared space on a chair. I sat, more out of politeness than any real desire for comfort. The next thing I knew there was a tray of strange, foul smelling brown lumps being shoved under my nose. "Cor got the urge to bake yesterday. Want some brownies?"

 

I sniffed, wrinkled my nose in disgust and shook my head. "I didn't come here for food." I must say he seemed rather distracted as he didn't even wait for me to finish answering before plowing on! This was certainly not what I had expected from someone who obviously was held in high esteem at the Circle.

 

"Now, if you are here, then Dan must be elsewhere, which means things are going badly. So, what can I do for you?" He took a bite of one of those lumps, and drank some equally repugnant brown liquid from the biggest mug I had ever seen, as he waited for an answer. It took me a moment to sort through his words and find an appropriate answer. As I said, I am not the most sociable of people.

 

"I came here to find out where Da– , " I caught myself just in time, "I mean, Master Nightfall, went."

 

James took another sip from his mug. He seemed rather distracted by all the clutter surrounding us. "Ah..." Another bite of the brownie. "So Daneel told you to come to me in that event, eh?"

 

I took a deep breath and tried to keep calm, despite all the annoying, pointless, time wasting questions! I didn't succeed. "No! He never! He shut me up in the mansion and I don't appreciate being locked up!"

 

The absent-minded look disappeared from James's face when I said that. He set aside his mug and his brownie and turned his full attention on me. I dropped my eyes from his penetrating stare. I heard him shift in his seat. "Did he now?"

 

His lack of concern did nothing for my temper. "Do you know what it's like! That's what she did to me!"

 

"She?" He looked confused.

 

"The Lady," I muttered, not really considering it important.

 

I think I caught a sigh. "What Lady?"

 

Did it matter, I asked myself. "The Lady I was working for. I don't know her name!" I got to my feet and started pacing; picking my way through the litter of paper. What was wrong with him? He blatantly states that something's wrong, than carries on questioning me regardless!

 

He found himself a pen and a blank sheet of paper and something else I didn't see and started to write. "OK. Let's start at the beginning, shall we? I'm a little behind on the story here."

 

Just what has this got to do with finding Daneel?  I wanted to scream. But that would probably only make things worse. Have patience I told myself. Several times. I forced my words to remain calm. "Which beginning?"

 

I saw him grin. "A good question!" He sounded pleased for some inconceivable reason. "Actually, if we could start after the beginning for a brief moment. Did Daneel leave anything for you in the tower?"

 

Finally something constructive! "These," I replied, indicating my clothes. "And a note. Why?" I stopped by the window and gazed out.

 

"Testing you. Are you honest, or clever enough to outwit the test?"

 

I turned back from the window as a hammer patrol passed through the street below, just in time to see him grinning again. I said nothing.

 

"I believe both are the verdict."

 

I waited patiently for him to continue. I had just begun to calm down when he asked his next question.

 

"Now, why did the Lady lock you up?"

 

I wanted to scream! Why did he have to keep going back to that? It wasn't something I wanted to think about. "Because I had a fight with Els.  He was my captain."

 

"This is the same Els you have been protecting?"

 

I went back to gazing out the window. He had hit on a painful subject. I let out a long sigh before I answered. "Protecting? If it weren't for Els I'd be dead! He was the one doing the protecting." I glanced down at my hands, remembering. "Then, when he needed me, I left him." I turned round to study James once more. "And now he's dead."

 

James looked confused. "So what happened between your fighting with him, and being locked in the tower, and his protecting you?"

 

Now I was the one that was confused. Els had been protecting me before Daneel shut me in the tower. I took it to mean my being locked up by the Lady. I shook my head. I hadn't explained things too well. "Sorry. My mind wandered. Els rescued me from the cage the Lady had me locked up in. She had meant for me to die in there."

 

"Ah. That Lady." James suddenly seemed very old and tired. "Well. That explains much. Tell me, do you know who this Lady is?"

 

Another dumb question! Did he honestly think I'd go around calling her “the Lady” if I knew who she was? I frowned at him. "No."

 

"Want to know?" He met my eyes with his own. "It isn't a pretty story, but then again, you haven't been in a pretty story."

 

My eyes turned back to the window and I stared up at the sky. I didn't like the tone of his voice. Whatever it was he had to tell me, I knew I wouldn't like it. "Tell me."

 

 

- James:  A Tale for Jyre - Day 10: 11:50am

 

I hired her first, signing her into the rolls, taking the oath, and providing her with two week’s pay in iron coin, to try to ensure security a bit by binding her to us.  Then I told her the story of The Dark Project: The Woodsie Lord and The Faery Queen, Garrett and the Hammers, Elemental forces of nature in combat. 

 

She didn’t buy it.  I tried again, with more detailed explanations, and with reluctance showed her some horrific illustrations best left in the darkness of the accursed books they inhabit.  She recognized the scenes.  No matter that the books had been created over a millennia ago – she had seen them, herself, in the service of the Lady.

 

She disputed the age of the books.  Fair comment; human skin, properly treated, lasts surprisingly well as paper.  I explained this salient fact, but she remained skeptical, asking for more proof:  "I need solid evidence, not these...  books."

 

“Will you accept tales I tell you of recent events?  I cannot show you many physical things; but I can tell you what I have seen.”

 

"I'll listen. But anyone can tell a tale."

 

"But in my business, the motto is: 'Know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.'"  I grinned, though she didn’t seem impressed, and told her the tale of recent events, beginning with the poor lass who had intended to tell us about the local activity of the Lady, and ending with the villa whose collapse and purification I had witnessed last night.  Finally, I remembered one piece of evidence I had, and produced the sun-baked clay fragment from the temple beneath the villa.  I handed her the fragment, "Be careful with it; they are easily broken."

 

Jyre took the fragment and rubbed it gently.  Then she shook her head. "Perhaps", she said, and handed the fragment back.

 

Her steadfast skepticism was starting to create trouble for me – though it might come in handy.  If she could temper it, she might be a powerful scholar.  But I wrenched my mind back to the problem at hand, as a new possibility occurred to me.

 

"Is the problem here that you do not believe in magic?"

 

"Magic exists. That I can accept. One of my friends practices it. No. It's just..." Her voice trailed away, as she struggled for words.  I waited.  "You speak of Gods and powers... They..."  She shook her head. "Alone. Always I was alone. You understand?"

 

"Not entirely.  You mean you have never felt the patronage of a god?"

 

She stood abruptly and resumed her restless pacing. "I am here. I hear my thoughts and know my feelings. And you are there. That I can see. And magic. It is there. That I see too. But gods?"  She stopped suddenly and turned to face me.

 

"Where does magic come from?" I asked. Jyre simply stared at me, as if to ask why I thought she would know the answer to the question.  I chuckled, and went on: "An unfair question, with a much debated and many-faceted answer.  Some comes from gods, though.  Some is from gods, refracted through humans.  And some, we mortals make on our own.  But in the end, the real question may come to this: do you trust your new employer enough to take his story on faith for a time?”

 

She said nothing.

 

"For if you seek to follow Daneel, then know this: he is dealing with powers we may as well call gods.  One of them is the Lady."

 

"It is a hard thing to ask. I will try."

 

I nodded.  "True.  Though in the business you have now joined" and I indicated the coins of her initial pay, "you will find trust is often necessary, of both employer and employee.  But we shall move on, and we shall see what comes of it.  Perhaps your skepticism may itself prove valuable."  I thought a moment.

 

"Now.  I have explained to you who the Lady is, though you are unsure of my explanation.  You wish to seek Daneel, and are in my, and thus his, employ, and I grant it would be a useful task to set you.  What do you know of his location?"

 

Fingering the coin, she replied, "Where is he?"

 

"An excellent question, if you mean Daneel.  Perhaps if I might see the note?

 

She snorted gently, and replied, "Who else would I mean?"  Then she shrugged and handed over the paper. "It doesn’t say much.”

           

"It pays not to assume.”  I grinned.  “Although I daresay you think I assume a great deal about the Lady.”  I took the note and read it, took note, and addressed her once more.  “Did you meet Daneel when he ‘imprisoned’ you in the tower?"

 

"I have met him many times."  She picked up a nearby book and flicked through it. "But he was gone when I woke."

 

“What was he intending to do when you last saw him?"

 

"He said... He said he had to stop her..." She put the book back down. "I don't remember anything else!"

 

"Oh dear."  I sighed, feeling suddenly tired and old, and sank into a chair.

 

"Is that bad?"

 

My mind was elsewhere, spinning through what exactly Daneel might have decided to do.  “I fear Daneel may have decided to do something rash."

 

"Tell me!" she growled.

 

I thought for a few moments more, as she glowered at me, and then came reluctantly to a decision.  "Daneel has decided to take on a god.  We believe the Lady is moving to reanimate – or, indeed, combine with – the Trickster.  Daneel will have used the portal left behind in the villa, several miles out of town in the Old Forest.  He is walking into grave danger, possibly graver than he knows, for his soul is powerful and would make a mighty slave to the Lady’s will.  It is well you wish to help him, for he may need the help, clever though he is.  Did he leave you some kit?“

 

She suddenly grabbed my collar and shook me. "And you did nothing to stop him?"

 

I broke her hold, and commented, as I retrieved my spectacles, "Well, I did not know he was doing this until you told me, did I?  And consider that, in the end, he is my employer.  He tells me what to do; not the other way around."

 

She made a visible effort to calm down.  She would have to work on controlling that impulsiveness to be an effective agent.  "He left me only what I showed you!"  She shrugged in apology, and continued, "I'm sorry. I worry."

 

"I understand that."  I lead her to a small equipment closet, and suggested she take anything she might need. 

 

“And what use would I be to him? I can't even look after myself."

 

I grinned.  "Oh, from what I hear that is not so very true.  I'd not have hired you if I thought that, in any event!  Let's see..."  I handed her a short sword, and began to look at bows, pausing to look over my shoulder and joke to her, "And try to keep that temper under control, don't need that thing in my kidneys."

 

She shook her head and returned the sword.  "I use only my dagger and my bow.” She unstrapped a clever folding bow and demonstrated its features.  I noted them for future reference.  She admitted she was out of arrows, however, and she stocked up on fire, water, and broadhead arrows.  Meanwhile, I mused, "Now, you'll need a means of communicating with me."

 

"You're not coming? Don't you care that he's in trouble?"

 

I was surprised by the question.  "Of course I care.  But my duty is here, running the agent network."

 

"And if he dies?“

 

"Eh?"

 

She looked me in the eye. "You are intending to profit from his death?"

 

I laughed. "That I would indeed not.  You have a point, though.  If he intends to face the Lady, he may have need of more information than he possesses."  I looked into the closet, thinking, then called into another room, "Cor?"

 

"Yes?"  Jyre jumped; evidently she had thought we were alone in the flat.

 

"Can you run the network for a while?  Dan has been rash and may need help."

 

Corinne walked in.  "Hello, Jyre, welcome to the firm.  James, you're going operational?"

 

"Um, I think it may be necessary.  Dan has decided to oppose the Lady – directly."

 

"You're rusty on your fieldcraft."

 

"Yes but –"

 

"And you were never topnotch."

 

"Yes but if he –"

 

"But if he's going against the Lady, then the fool will need the information only you can provide."

 

 

- Jyre: An Unlikely Pair - Day 10: 10:20am

 

As I watched, bemused, Corinne handed James a sword, a bow, a selection of arrows, and a large number of healing potions.  Then she embraced him, and told him to take care.  James managed a muffled "I'll try."

 

As I stood there looking embarrassed, Corinne walked to James' desk, sat down, and said glumly, "Well, stand not upon the order of thy going..."

 

James seemed at a loss for words.  "Yeah, see ya."  He looked at me, and then turned to leave the flat, stopping, shoulder slumped, in the door.  I caught the glint of a tear in Cor's eye, and she quietly enjoined me,  "Take care of him, please."

 

I grinned and bowed. "You have my word.  I will keep him on a short leash." I winked, and Corinne gave me a thankful smile.  Then I followed James out the door.

 

In the stairwell, James paused.  The bodies in their blankets seemed much more alert suddenly, and their eyes suddenly clear and sharp.  “I am going operational for the next few days.  Corinne is in charge of the network until my return.”  A chorus of “Yes, sir” replied to him, and it dawned on me that these forms were in fact James’ agents, and nowhere near as decrepit as they appeared.

 

 

- James: The Magic of Iron - Day 10: 11:00am

 

I went to the smith, testing aspects of Jyre’s streetcraft along the way – and found it excellent.  At the smith’s, I asked for the arrow and nails.  They were ready, and the arrow in particular was superbly crafted.  I signed a credit slip, charged to the Circle, and altered the fee to a sum considerably more than the originally agreed-on price, in view of the speed, quality, and difficulty of the work.

 

Jyre asked me why I had paid such a stunning fee for a useless iron arrow and a handful of ordinary iron nails.

 

“Men work magic when they make things; and the greater the effort, the greater the magic.  The magic of iron is deeply opposed to that of the Wood and of the Faery Queen.  This arrow and these nails were cold-forged – hammered into their shapes without heat.  It is a process requiring exceptional effort and dedication.  That smith may not know it, but he works a form of magic.  In this instance, he has worked it on an inherently powerful substance – iron that fell from the stars.  The Lady is a force of Chaos, and this arrow is a very Orderly work.  Know also that the working of spells and magic rituals, tends to distract spellcasters, lowering their defenses.  So when we find the Lady, this arrow may do more damage than if she were prepared to repel the assault.  There is a strong possibility that the break in her concentration will create a strong enough backlash, from the effort of her sorcerous ritual and the return of her will from the substance of the spell to herself, to kill her.”

 

Jyre did not seem to believe me, but I could think of nothing else to tell her, so we trudged onwards towards the riven oak where once the Lady’s accursed villa had stood, passing soon out of the city and into the woods.  There the path swiftly dwindled, and I was immersed in finding the route.

 

 

- Jyre:  A Tale From Jyre - Day 10: 1:00pm

 

I stopped at the top of the small incline and offered James my hand. He took it with a nod and a mumbled "Thank you."  Then he seemed to pause, and suddenly turned to me as if to ask something that had been troubling him.

 

"Could you explain the chain of events that lead to your termination from service with the Lady?"

 

As he paused to catch his breath I considered his question. Something in his manner, his detachment I think, made me want to answer. I looked up at the canopy as I considered my answer. The trees here were packed tightly and little light passed through the thick foliage high above. Glimpses of the sky were rare. It made the woods rather dull, but at least it meant there was little undergrowth to fight with. I sighed and lowered my eyes. He nodded he was ready and we continued to walk, with James keeping us heading in the right direction.

 

"I guess it all started when I met Ranson. He was the one that got me into the guard in the first place" I hesitated, wondering if I should mention what else Ranson had gotten into. The thought made me shiver. That was one subject best left in the past. "Not that I was particularly pleased about it to start with. I hated being told what to do and all they ever did in that place was tell you what to do! But worse than that, most of the things they got you doing were stupid! I mean, what's the better thing to do; spend ten minutes polishing dumb buttons or spending an extra ten minutes on patrol? Does a thief really care how shiny the guard's buttons are? I don't think I ever noticed when I was, er, working." I kicked a small stone. It bounced across the dusty ground and hit a tree. "But the food was good. And the pay. Not that I was earning more, just regularly."

 

I glanced over my shoulder at James, but he seemed more interested in navigating the path than asking me any questions. "Anyway, I worked in one of her smaller houses, though at the time I thought it was huge! Three floors, four or five rooms on each. Then there were the attic and barracks. Garden front and back. Up until then the only houses I'd ever been in were the ones I robed and most of them were owned by minor merchants who couldn't afford to pay a regular guard. Her house seemed like a palace to me!" I was waffling. But that's what I do. I waffle or I clam up. I focused my mind on the question and tried my best to answer.

 

"I guess it all started when I was assigned to serve under Els for the night shift. We didn't exactly get on when we first met. I don't like people who go around acting all superior and that's exactly how he seemed to me. I guess I learnt different though. He was afraid really. He'd served the Lady elsewhere and some of the things he'd seen...Things he'd told me about after he rescued me. I didn't really know what type of person I was in service to. I guess Ranson's attitude should have given me a clue, but I just assumed she was a rather rich merchant who didn't want people snooping around."

 

James nodded to let me know he was listening.

 

"I was given the duty of upper floor patrol, which sounds reasonable enough until you consider a few facts. First off only one of the rooms, just a storage cupboard really, was ever open. The rest were always locked and off limits. No-one was allowed in them. Pretty dumb if you consider that most of them had windows any thief could climb through. What was the point of having a guard then banning them from the areas they're meant to be protecting?  I went to Els to ask him about it. He didn't seem very pleased that I was asking. Just told me he'd 'look into it'. I took that to mean he wasn't interested in some kid's dumb ideas. So I shut up and went back to work. Only then I heard these strange sounds coming from one of the rooms I passed on my patrol. Sounded like a thud, then a muffled scream. I called Els but when he got there he just shook his head and said 'it has been dealt with'. Sounded dumb at the time but I know better now. What he meant was that whoever had tried to get in had been fried by the magic that protected the place from intruders. The guard was only ever meant to act as a backup."

 

I got no reaction from him that time.  I went on.

 

"Then there was the lighting. One torch every ten feet and most of them went out after an hour or two. It was the wind from the open windows. Yet another one of those dumb things I didn't understand at the time. Windows with shutters that were never shut! When Els fobbed me off about that as well, I went to the Lady. Only she was too busy to see a mere guard so I had to leave a 'request'. I guess she got it because a few days later Els came to me and told me to stop bugging her. There was something in his manner then that bothered me. I thought it was a threat. He had meant it as a warning."

 

I stopped walking again and looked up. There was no sky showing through the canopy now and the shadows that fell made it more like early evening than late afternoon. I took a sip of water from my flask before finishing my tale. "I guess this must've went on for a month or two before my temper finally got the better of me. I was asking him about another one of these senseless oddities which he, once again, waved away. So I hit him. He returned the favor and we got into a bit of a fight. The next thing I know we're both pinned to the ground by other guards and the Lady's standing over us. She ordered Els whipped the next morning in front of the entire guard and demoted. She had me locked up in a cage suspended between two posts in the back garden. Three months she said I had to stay there, and the only time I'd get any food or water was when the staff took pity on me. The other guard weren't allowed near me."

 

James gave a concerned “Hmmm…”

 

"I was witness to Els's whipping. It left him so weak he couldn't stand, but she still made him work the next day, patrolling the garden so he'd be forced to watch me suffer. There was one young cook who took pity on me and brought me a hunk of bread and some water in the morning, but he kept saying these dumb Hammer prayers and asking The Builder to have mercy on a lost one's soul. I was hungry and sick of it so I yelled at him to shut up and gimme the food. I never saw him again. I saw Els every day though. He was a mess. There was always blood on the back of his shirt and he seemed to struggle just to watch. Every so often he'd look over at me and in my naiveté I assumed he was blaming me for what had happened. Soon after the cook stopped coming I got sick and fevered. I don't really remember what happened after that. Not until I woke up in the hold of a ship staring up at a total stranger. I later found out how Els had risked his own life getting me out the cage and onto the ship. The stranger was a young battle-mage in training, Tanya. He helped break my fever. He was a good friend. They both were." I sighed and shook my head. Els's death still hurt. "I spent the winter at a school for telekinetics, working for the guard there, then traveled a little with Els and Tanya. When I was feeling better Els and I decided to come back and get a little revenge for our treatment. You know the rest." I didn't feel like talking any more so I let the tale come to an end. If James asked anymore I was too lost in thought to answer.

 


Chapter 17 - Land of the Ancients

 

- Nightfall: The Trek Continues - Day 10: 3:00pm

 

My hand instantly went to my sword hilt as I heard the sudden scuttle.  I was, admittedly, a little jumpy.  It was better then being off-guard, I suppose.  I had been walking without incident for several hours.

 

I glanced about the corridor, which looked exactly the same as all the other corridors I had used since I left the volcano core.  It was most likely just a rodent, but rodents don’t get to a place this deep unless there is something to eat.  I must be nearing something very out of place, hopefully a camp with the Queen’s troops. 

 

I pressed on, thanking the fact that my intuition, guided by those beings, led me forward. 

 

 

- James: A Brief Rendezvous - Day 10: 3:00pm

 

I heard familiar footfalls rushing towards us.  I noticed Jyre duck into the bushes immediately.  I saw up ahead, running in a full sprint through the trees, my agent, Marcus.  He was dressed in his undercover Hammerite outfit.  I had sent him along on the taskforce to keep an eye on Dan.  I wondered what he had to say.

 

He came to a halt before me, not even panting.  Most of the heavy metal a Hammerite wears on his uniform had been removed.  “I knew I’d find you here.”

 

“What have you to tell?”

 

He took a deep breath, and then suddenly dropped to a sit, legs crossed.  “You had best not be going where I think you be going.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“The former villa, er, lodge, whatever you call it, is swarming with Hammerites.  All the shadows in The City couldn’t get you past them unseen.  They’ve got the foolish notion to build a tower on that spot!”

 

“Oh my, that’s typical, isn’t it,” I said, slightly annoyed that I had not anticipated this. 

 

“Aye, that it is.”  He yawned, and then stretched his arms, leaving them behind his head.

 

“I shall have to find another route,” I said after a moment's ponder.

 

“Uh huh.  You had best find yourself another way in, if going after the master is your plan.”

 

“Yes, quite”.  As I thought, he proceeded to twist his body into some rather unusual patterns.

 

“What are you going to do then?”  His feet met behind his head.

 

“Did you go down into the tunnels?”

 

“Yup, sure did.”

 

“What did the walls look like?”  I had a hunch, but kept my fingers crossed.

 

He scratched his head.  “Um, well, they were red stone, with some type of crosshatch pattern on them.  Looked to be a result of how it was tunneled.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“Oh, so you know another way in then?”  he said, slightly curious.

 

“I do.  Thank you, Marcus, for your help.”

 

“Hey, anytime, mate.”  He sprinted off, the way Jyre and I had come.

 

Jyre slowly got up out of the bush as he ran off.  “Is he a spy?”

 

“Yes, a very good one too,” I replied. 

 

“What… What was he doing to himself?  Getting all twisted up like that?”  she said with no small amount of disgust in her voice.

 

“Hmm?  Oh, that.  Just some exercises he likes to do.  It gives him energy.  Come, Jyre, we have a new destination, a much nearer one, I may add.”

 

“Where?” she said, following me.

 

“An ancient burial site, a crypt, mostly derelict – I hope.”

 

 

- Jyre: A Minor Siege - Day 10: 3:40pm

 

Moving through the woods towards the crypt, I noticed James was suddenly on his knees, pointing something out to me. He must have asked me something because he was watching me expectantly. I glanced at what he was holding, some sort of bone, broken near one end. My eyes went back to the shadows I had spotted in the sky. "I'm sorry," I murmured, "What did you say?"

 

“See this bone?  Look at the tooth marks.”

 

I stopped listening after the first few words. The shadows I had spotted had started to move toward us in a most un-cloud like manner. I watched them warily, certain they were not birds.

 

“It’s important for you to learn these marks, Jyre.”

 

I nodded, having no idea whether my response was appropriate or not. The shadows were starting to take on shape. There were two of them, perhaps the size of a golden eagle, or slightly bigger. Winged, with tails. I couldn't make out anything in detail. "Uh, James..."

 

“Jyre, pay attention.  These are mongbat tooth marks; you need to learn to recognize them.  Mongbats are stealthy and dangerous foes.”

 

Something screeched behind me. I dove to the ground, covering my ears with my hands. When the dust cleared, James was gone. I glanced at the ground but saw no sign of tracks. Then I lifted my eyes and saw him. He was in the clutches of a third shadowy shape, being carried up into the air. I could make this one out more clearly and the sight made me shudder. Its body was that of a monkey but sprouting from its shoulders were the wings of a bat. I froze for a second, staring at it. Only its loud shriek brought me back to reality.

 

It was over the forest now, a frantically kicking James clutched in its arms. I checked the sky for the other two. They were still some distance off. I hadn't even realized I'd readied my bow until I had a broadhead arrow clutched in my fist. I nocked the arrow, focused on the beast carrying James and closed my eyes. I could see it in my mind, flying away from me over the trees. My muscles started to shake from the tension but I kept the bow taut until at last I felt that little tremor pass through me that told me I had a bead on it. The bowstring twanged and the arrow flew. I was running before I had a chance to see if it struck home, aware now of the beating wings that signaled the other two beasts were close. I heard the third beast shriek, this time in pain, then I was beneath the cover of the trees and out of reach of their hated wings.

 

Something crashed through the branches behind me. I dove to the ground once more, expecting to feel the clutch of the beasts any second. I heard a branch creak then there was only silence. I waited apprehensively for what seemed a long time before rolling over onto my back and looking behind me. What I saw made me laugh. It was James, snagged on a branch, his feet dangling above the ground and his arms flapping uselessly at his back as he tried to untangle himself.  After I stopped laughing, I cut him down, easing the fall so he didn’t break his neck.

 

“Thank you!”  James went on, rather sheepishly, “Maybe you could let me know when you see them next time?”

 

“I suppose.  After all, I promised Corinne I’d take care of you.”

 

“And, as usual, I need it.  Still want to see that bone?”

 

I did, actually, but in the scuffle it had been lost, and we headed onwards towards the crypt.

 

However, our ordeal was not yet over.  I heard muffled wing beats, and realized they were returning.  All three of them circled above the open ground that stretched before us, their eyes sweeping the shadows in which we stood, searching. Their wings beat the air powerfully and when they drew close enough I could feel it rushing past me. I singled out the one I had injured easily enough. It listed to the left, its wing hanging limp every few seconds then suddenly beating the air madly to stop it from falling. It was slower, less maneuverable, but still, it was a threat. I stepped back into the deeper cover where James waited and crouched down, drawing a broadhead from my quiver and nocking it. He was sat with his back against a tree, whittling away at a bit wood with a small knife. I hesitated, more than a little confused by his strange reaction. Then I lifted my bow, trying to follow the erratic path of the injured mongbat. I closed my eyes, followed its path with my mind, waiting for that special moment when I would release the arrow. The sound of metal scraping wood filled my ears. I sighed and slowly lowered the bow. Turning to face him I asked, "What are you doing?"

 

James explained, grinning impishly, “Monarch owls eat mongbats.  I’m making a whistle to imitate the call of the monarch owl, to scare the mongbats away.”

 

Crazy. That was the only way I could describe it. Using a little noise to frighten off beasts like that. I couldn't help but shake my head again when I realized he'd gone back to his whittling. Those things were trying to kill us!  “Couldn’t you come up with something a little more direct?” I asked.

 

He paused, and thought a moment, then wrapped some handkerchiefs around the tips of my arrows.  As he rummaged in his pockets, he explained, “How about makeshift fire arrows?”  Then he poured oil on the handkerchiefs, and rigged a crazy contraption of matches on the arrow tips.  “Worth a try, at any rate.”

 

I forced James, his whistle and the insanity of his fire arrows out of my head. I lifted the bow carefully, the fire arrow already set in place and slowly drew it back. The injured mongbat came back into view. I followed its movements for a few seconds – closed my eyes. And realized I was just as crazy as James for doing so. But there was something inside me; my sixth sense, Aulden had called it, that let me focus on one single thing, living or otherwise, and follow it with my mind wherever it went. Which is exactly what I was doing now. I learnt how it moved, predicted its course and brought the arrow around. And all of this happened in just a few brief seconds. I felt the pull on my blood that told me my aim was true, hesitated a split second to make sure it held true, then let the arrow fly. The bow thrummed in my hand. The arrow sang as it left its perch. Wood crackled and spat.

 

Wood? I asked myself as I opened my eyes. What –

 

I had hit a tree, right in the center of its trunk. The mongbat must have flown behind the trunk whilst I was taking aim and with my eyes closed I hadn't noticed. I watched for a second as the fire from the arrow started to eat at the tree's bark. "Oops."

 

Behind me, I heard an eerily resonant “hoo-hoo-hoo hoo hoo.”  Turning, James was still wearing that impish grin, scanning the sky.  The mongbats were fleeing.  I looked at James in amazement: his whistle actually worked.

 

“Heck, all this studying has to be useful sometimes.”

 

I just shook my head, and turned back to the path. 

 

 

- Nightfall: Checkpoint - Day 10: 4:00pm

 

There were four of them standing in front of the gate, and four behind.  The gate was iron, and it was in the middle of a wall that spanned a large corridor.

 

I hid behind a railing on a balcony, overlooking a large chamber.  The chamber was square, with a flat roof.  Four pillars, also square marked the center of each quadrant.  The chamber had corridors leading off from all sides, large corridors with brick walls, not the small narrow earthen walls I had been navigating.  I conjectured that another passage was under the balcony, for each of the other passages had a balcony over it.  The wall with a gate in it was a small distance down the corridor opposite from my balcony. 

 

The walls were made of stone, a deep brown color, and cut into perfect rectangles.  The stones were large, large enough to be too heavy for one man to lift.  The floor beneath me, and in the chamber below, was laden with much smaller gray stones, small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, yet affixed firmly to the ground so that none would budge.  Lit torches circled the room, placed there by this labyrinth’s new occupant.  It looked as if the wall and gate were fresh constructs as well. 

 

I turned my attention back to the gate and the guards.  Some of them seemed quite human, but there were two, one on each side, that were most definitely not.   They stood about seven or eight feet tell, hard to tell at such a distance, and were black from head to toe, or rather foot, for they didn’t seem to have toes, just a pointy foot.  They wore what looked to be a tight suit of black armor, but judging by the way they moved, it was not armor, but exoskeleton.  Their heads were angular, and shaped very oddly, almost insect-like.  They stood upright, very still, but when the moved, it was a very quick, jerky motion.  I had seen insect-beasts before, but they were not quite like this.  Perhaps this was another breed. 

 

I studied my options.  There was a good chance that my destination was behind that gate.  Not only did it make sense, but my extra-cerebral guidance told me so.  I could try a direct assault, but those insect critters seemed fast, and if the one on the other side of the gate chose to run and warn the others, there would be hell to pay.  I could try to sneak by, putting out all the torches and then hopping over that 18 foot wall.  That didn’t seem feasible.  I knew there had to be some perfect solution.  There always was. 

 

I heard footfalls coming from below me.  I stopped breathing and listened hard.  I saw a group of men, rat-apes, and those black bug-beasts walk out from under the balcony to the gate at the far end of the chamber.  With the humans this close, and below me, I was able to get a good look at the uniform.  It was mostly black and silver, made from a mix of plate, painted silver, and chain, painted black.  Their helmets were black, with the symbol of The Eye, the Trickster’s emblem, painted on the back. 

 

The group approached the guards, and stopped.  The bug-beast from the party, and the bug-beast from the guard group approached, and simultaneously lifted up a golden medallion each.  They then both nodded, and one of the human guards began to turn a crank, opening the gate.  Some of the humans from the party were conversing.  The rat-ape was engrossed in the scratching of himself below the waste.  None were looking at me, so I took this as my cue.

 

I slipped the sen-saronde onto my head, and dropped down from the balcony, with a very small thud.  I then darted forward, and, taking a huge risk, stood in the back of the party, in a place that seemed logical for the last man in a patrol formation to stand.  The gate finished opening, and the party, along with me, strolled through.  Several of the humans saw me, and exchanged confused glances at one another, and a few hushed words.  I eased their tension with a smile and nod of greeting in their direction.  The members of the party had not yet noticed me. 

 

I felt the hairs standing up on the back of my neck as we passed through the gate, and passed the other group of guards.  They too began to whisper amongst themselves, undoubtedly wondering who the stranger was, but accepting it because I was with a group that had a medallion pass.  As long as the party I was with did not notice me, I should be fine.  I was walking a very thin line indeed.

 

The corridor made a ninety-degree turn, removing us from the view of the guards.  It was time to move.  I pulled out my pocket watch.  I quietly drew my sword from its sheath, and as the second hand of the watch touched twelve, I gently touched the man in front of me with the side of the blade.  He petrified instantly, along with a brief shimmer or yellow light which was drowned out by the torch light.  He would reanimate within about two minutes, so I had to be quick.  After returning the watch to my pocket I went on to the next man with the same results.  Next in line was the rat-ape, who was petrified just as easily.  After I took care of the third man all that was left was the medallion-bearing bug-beast.  Since I had no intention of turning the medallion to stone, and didn’t feel like trying to get the thing away from the critter after he re-animated, I altered my tactic a little.

 

I took a swift stroke to the thing’s neck.  The sound and sensation was not unlike chopping a thin and wet tree trunk in half.  The disembodied head petrified in mid-air, and shattered as it hit the stone wall.  The petrified body was frozen mid-step. A more painless death one could not ask for.

 

I went back to the first man, and pulled out my pocket watch.  It had been one minute, forty seconds.  As he de-petrified, with a similar shimmer of light, he paused in confusion, which I ended with a quick jab with my fist to the back of the neck.  He fell unconscious.  I did the same to the other men, and the rat-ape.  By then, the headless corpse of the bug-beast had “thawed”, and fell to the ground with a great echoing crash.  I casually lifted the medallion from the floor where it had fallen (it’s hard to keep a medallion around your neck when you have no head), and was on my way.  Was this the perfect solution I had been looking for?  Maybe not.  It had worked, though.

 

The medallion was gold and had a slightly different symbol of the eye.  The eye normally had a crescent slash above it, but in this case it was a coiled vine, and the eye seemed half closed.  A red gem marked the pupil of the eye.  As I continued on my way, I pondered the significance of this change.

 

 

- Jyre: Into the Crypt - Day 10: 4:30pm

 

Our footfalls sounded dead to my ears, muffled by the still air and layers of dust that covered everything. I think I would have preferred to go without the torch's flickering light but doing so would have left us both blind. The flames made the shadows dance, giving life to the very darkness that surrounded us. It was unsettling, to say the least. Seeing James walking calmly in front of me helped, but still, I couldn't quite shake the feeling that I didn't belong here!

 

I tried not to look at what we were passing, but my eyes seemed to have a will of their own, and every so often they'd slip over the chambers in the walls that contained the village’s dead. The chambers were stacked three high, each of the six foot long crevices appearing to have been carved out of the stone by hand in the same way as the passage down which we now walked had been. Some of these chambers had since been bricked up and others now held the coffins of the dead. Perhaps what really bothered me were those that held nothing but the skeletons of the dead. There were no markings to acknowledge who lay there, or personal possessions to ease their journey to whatever afterlife they had believed in. Just plain, unadorned bones. And cobwebs and spiders, and in some cases, rats.

 

When my gaze came to rest on the still fleshed corpse of a naked young boy I froze, my mind numb with shock.

 

 

- James: Myths Best forgotten - Day 10: 4:30pm

 

I noticed that Jyre was beginning to get spooked by the crypt.  With good reason, though I believe her eyes, guided by a mind blessedly devoid of higher education, only dimly guessed at the true horrors at which it hinted.  She stopped by a recent corpse, staring.  I put a hand on her shoulder, and tried to decide if I should tell the truth, or lie.  She saved me from the decision, shrugging off my hand and showing her readiness to move forward.  Had she noticed the sigil faintly carved in the back of the chamber?  I did; and hoped its implications were false, and Jyre was too lost in her own thoughts to notice that I turned pale.

 

We moved further downwards, leaving the burial chambers behind.  At the same time, the quality of the stonework began to improve.  Before long the passageway had widened to over ten feet, and bas-relief columns were carved into the walls.  Soon, the carvings extended between the columns as well, in bands about a meter high.  These bands appeared to depict several types of strange, unearthly beings, perhaps canine, perhaps amphibian, engaged in the blasphemous worship of gods never quite displayed.  The bands were separated by smaller stipss carved with ornate geometric designs which followed a queer five-sided symmetry never intended by any human Euclid.

 

“What are those?” Jyre queried.  “What myth is this?”

 

She looked troubled, and I knew the moment for some of the truth had come.  “No myth, Jyre.  The beings that carved this area are probably depicting themselves.  The crypt above is of the Arcane Society of Nogad, a human cult which worships these beings as gods.”

 

“Like that boy.”

 

I lied.  “Yes.”  The truth was worse; the boy was probably dead of natural causes.  No sacrifice to Nogad would have appeared in the crypt.  A worse fate was reserved for them.  Unfortunately, this did little to quell her curiosity.

 

“So this is another of these things relating to dead gods, hmmm?”

 

“Don’t presume they are dead, though feel free to wish it.  Remember: ‘That is not dead, which can eternal lie’. The Mad Arab knew what he wrote of.  Don’t write them off.”

 

 

- Jyre: Dead Gods - Day 10: 4:40pm

 

More ramblings about supposed gods and their ways.  Why did he go on about them?  I mean, if they really existed... Why would they bother with mere humans? Why would they care? I knew from experience that no one ever cared for someone they considered beneath them. I was little more than an insect in other people's eyes. It seemed ludicrous that people could honestly think there were “higher beings” out there. Beings that took some sort of interest, be it for good or bad, in what to them would be petty human life. It was just some petty need those people had to feel more important than they really were. After all, if some grand “god” took an interest in their tiny lives, then surely that meant they were “special”? That their lives had some sort of purpose? I snorted and shook my head. Couldn't they see that life's only value was the value we gave it ourselves?

 

I would have asked more but James had already moved on and Daneel was somewhere ahead. Still, there was something terribly creepy about the carvings and I was glad to be moving away from them.

 

 

- Nightfall: The Art of the Bluff - Day 10: 6:00pm

 

The architecture was much different now.  Rather than simple square passages lined with simple rectangular stones, everything was much, much more elaborate.  At the moment I was walking down a trapezoid-shaped corridor, with a wide floor and narrow ceiling.  Familiar glyphs were carved into the walls, illuminated from behind by an unknown, most likely magical, source, filling the passageway with a soft orange light.  The floor had an odd pattern with interlocking tiles of four, five, and six sides.  Something about it made me think of a serpent’s scales.

 

I came to another checkpoint.  Unlike the other, this one made a sharp contrast with its surroundings.  The plain brick wall and iron gate was alien amidst the splendidly crafted corridor, and it seemed genuinely sinful to have it there at all.  I walked up confidently, keeping my gaze fixed on the tall black bug-beast guard with the other medallion.  I stopped several feet in front of him, and raised my medallion, just as I had seen before.

 

Something was wrong.  He did not raise his in return, instead he, or she, or whatever it was, stepped closer, moving its head from side to side looking me over.  It then looked into my face.  Its eyes were large black bulges on the sides of its head. Suddenly it spoke.

 

“Whwhwhwhaaaaat hhhhhar’r’r’r heeu’u’u?” it said, with it’s chittery, breathy voice.  I managed to interpret the words as being ‘what are you?’

 

“That is a stupid question.” I said in my usual authoritative voice. 

 

It began to chitter madly.  “H’h’h’h’aaayye do not k’k’k’k’k’noa h’h’h’h’h’ore f’f’f’f’assssse,” it said, which sounded almost like “I do not know your face.”

 

“Fool, as if you expected to be familiar with all of the Lady’s men.  Grant me passage, beast, lest I have you ground into meal.” I said this with a sharply bitter tone.

 

It began to chitter incomprehensibly.  I waited, quite nervously, for it to open the gate for me.  One of the humans suddenly left his post, and approached the bug-beast.

 

“Ahem, I think that – “  his speech was cut short when the beast, in a thrash of anger, swung its arm across the man’s face, the hook-like hand gashing deeply.  The man let out a piercing scream as he fell to the floor.

 

“F’f’f’f’ooolsssiee MANFLESH.  Yea w’w’w’will speakk’k’k’k wh’wh’wh’en spok’k’k’ken to!”

 

The man, weeping from the pain, got up from the ground, and pulled himself back to his post, his hand clenching the ripped skin of his cheek.

 

The beast turned back to me.

 

“Wh’wh’wh’wh’where is’s’s’s the p’p’p’p’patrol?”  it said to me.  Oh yes, that’s right, they would be expecting the patrol I had rendered unconscious by now, wouldn’t they? I had to come up with an explanation fast.  But then I had another idea.  It had worked before.

 

“THAT, is a stupid question!  Allow me passage, BEAST.”

 

It began once again to chitter madly.  It pointed to a man, and spoke a word that it seemed to say with much greater ease than any of human tongue, yet I did not understand. 

 

The man, fearful, quickly turned the crank and drew open the gate.  I wanted to go over to the wounded man, and tell him that he shall soon be freed, but that would risk blowing my cover.  Plus I had no way of knowing if these men were truly slaves, or serving alongside the beasts of their own free will.  I couldn’t imagine.

 

I walked through the gate without looking at anyone on either side.  I went along my way.  I could feel that I was getting close. 

 

 

- Jyre: The Precursors’ Village - Day 10: 7:00pm

 

I tried to remember every little detail on the map that James pointed out to me, filing it away in case I should ever need it. Not that I expected it to be of much use. I preferred to find my way by feel and my sense of direction was horrendous to say the least. But still, if trouble did find us, it was best I was prepared.

 

I studied James' face as he made his final preparations before we headed for the temple he had shown me on the map. He looked apprehensive but determined and when he noticed that I was watching him he smiled. I dropped my eyes, embarrassed, and studied the ancient stones beneath my feet. Some of them were worn smooth by what must have been the passing of thousands of feet over uncountable years. Others still seemed to hold the same roughness that had been theirs since the day they were laid. There was no damaging wind or lashing rain here to bring damage to this ancient place. The colors of the tiny tiles that had been used to make up the map were unbleached by the light of the sun. Standing here, staring down on it, it was hard to believe that this place was now deserted.  James said softly, “No time like the present” and headed towards one of the streets; I hurried to catch up.

 

The feeling of timelessness was quickly lost as we left the plaza to turn into what at one time must have been a main street. The very first house we passed was half-sunk into the ground, the rear wall more so than the rest so that it was tilted away from us. The door, if there had been one, was gone and through the open doorway I could make out the glow of the lava that now claimed the ground floor. If there had been anything left inside when it was abandoned it was now gone, eaten up by the fiery liquid. The road which we walked was cracked and uneven. In some places the cobbles still clung stubbornly to the earth, in others, subsidence had pulled them down and only rough broken earth remained. In other places the damage was not so extensive. When we came to a house that stood almost untouched I felt a sudden urge to go inside and learn more of these ancient people. I glanced at James questioningly and he seemed to understand. We veered off the road and crossed the short span of broken ground to the house's doorway.

 

When I stepped inside the entire room lit up with a gentle blue glow. Looking up I saw a thin light fitted tight against the ceiling and found myself wondering what ancient magic could have been so powerful that it still held now.

 

 

- James: Fall of the Precursors - Day 10: 7:10pm

 

The house was surprisingly well preserved, despite the small stream of lava that ran through the center of it.  The heat had blistered the paint from the walls, and the few flecks remaining were insufficient to decipher what the friezes might have been.  The rock itself seemed, amazingly, almost completely undamaged by the lava.  As we turned to go, Jyre asked, “Why did they leave? What happened?”

 

“We do not really know for sure; it happened too long ago, and the end was sufficiently cataclysmic that very few records of the event have survived.  From what has been pieced together, a massive volcanic eruption destroyed much of the city.  How or why it erupted is unknown.”

 

"And no one survived it?"

 

“Very few, and those who did claimed that the lava was ‘alive’, and in some cases even wilder tales of mythic beasts.  Most researchers suggest these are the myth-making reactions of a people faced with a catastrophe they do not understand.  However, their technology was quite advanced, as you can see from the lights.  Simple vulcanism was something they understood – and should have been able to control.”

 

“So they didn’t expect it, and made a dumb excuse.”

 

“Perhaps.  It would be rather human!  Note that the most outlandish tales hint dimly at a late ruler who attempted to harness dark forces.  These served for a time, and the civilization was propelled to new and greater heights by their aid; but then the servants revolted, bringing it to ruin.  Nobody knows the truth of it.  Or, at any rate, nobody I'm aware of."

 

Jyre sighed.  “And nobody bothered to come back and find out the truth?”

 

“Apparently, the event was so terrifying that everyone fled; and by the time anyone felt like coming back, the routes had been lost through time, fading memory, and the immense destruction.”

 

“So how did you know how to get in?  Or is that a secret?”

 

“A good question.”  I grinned.  “Over the years, its rumored wealth has made it a target for treasure-seekers.  Some of them have even found parts of it, and brought back treasures ranging from exquisitely crafted jewelry to fragments of the Pnakotic Manuscripts.  However, a given route rarely seems to remain open long; somehow, the entrances often seem to close.  They are often associated with cult tombs such as the one we came through; so, well, I went this way on a hunch that the tombs would link again.”

 

As we turned to go, a flicker of the light made me aware of something scratched into the wall near the door.  Looking closely, I was surprised to discover, crudely scratched long ago into the wall in the ancient’s runic alphabet: “HE is coming. HE is Q.”

 

The Q was the sigil of the Trickster.  Could the Trickster truly have had a hand in this ancient event? I realized we might need to find out.  After explaining the message to Jyre, we agreed to keep checking the buildings we passed en route to the temple.

 

Our investigations revealed only a few of these messages from bygone years.  Nonetheless, these warnings, apparently left for friends or family, consistently claimed that “HE”, “SHE”, or “THEY” were coming: and used the sigils of the Trickster and the Lady to refer to them.  Moreover, disturbingly, we found a fragment of a thin metal Imperial message-foil, which read, “…outbreaks in northwest…  servants of the flame…  Semperus denies knowledge…  Nike cannot be found…  suspect list…”  Semperus – “the constant one”.  Nike – “Victory”.  Was this a coincidence?

 

As I pondered on this, Jyre stopped on turning a corner and began to look around.  When I caught up, I found our path blocked by a massive collapse.  We could not go over nor under nor through.  Eventually, Jyre spotted what appeared to be an animal burrow of some sort.  Despite deep misgivings – what could an animal, capable of burrowing through such rock, be capable of doing to us? – we entered the tunnel.  Just inside it we stumbled across a lamp – evidently modified to work away from the wall, for as we picked it up, it turned on, bathing the area in a cold blue light.

 


Chapter 18 - Calm Before the Storm

 

- Lytha: Hurry Up and Wait - Day 10: 8:00pm

 

I sat on the wall of the Temple of the Inquisitor. I did not remember how I had reached this place, because the voices had suddenly appeared again as I left Koyne's shop. The grotesque voices of my sister had told me that I had never done anything good, and that they hated me, more than everything in the world. I was not able to achieve silence in my head until I had reached the northern wall of the Temple. Somehow, my memory and my instincts had led me the right way, while I listened to the voices.

 

And now I was on the wall, huddled in a small shadow between the legs of a large statue. My aching legs told me that I had been here for quite a while. It was an almost perfect place: I could observe almost the entire Temple from here. The only negative point of the place was that it was very uncomfortable, small, and cold. And I was probably more than 2 hours here. It was late evening, but the multitude of lanterns kept the area very well lit.

 

A while ago, a high ranking priest of the Hammerites had entered the living quarters. He was young, and dressed in an expensive way. The Hammerites had seemed to be very impressed with him as he entered the area. They had stared motionless for a few seconds at him, and had been devout and submissive towards him, as they were towards higher officers. I ignored his arrival, because he was not the Inquisitor.

 

My legs had fallen asleep, so I moved a little and tried to relax my aching arms at the same time. My legs hurt as the blood circulated back in the veins.

 

Why was there silence again in my head? The different voices had shut up. They seemed to back away from something stronger than they were. Suddenly, I heard Thalia's normal voice – or was it mine…

 

"You are sure that you want to go in there? No, wait. I can see that you want to do this. And I see that you want to do this, beside other reasons, to prevent others from being harmed.  You think you have failed. Well. Okay. And I see also that there's no way to keep you from doing this."  Sigh. "Okay. Now, let me try to help you. Before you stumble in there blindly, remember. Remember. You have already seen a map of this place. A while ago, but you've seen it. Remember.  Find the Inquisitor.  Find the high Priest.  Kill them both and I shall be avenged." The voice faded.

 

Yes. I had seen a map of this place, but I had thought that I had forgotten how it looked. Now, I saw it clearly in front of my eyes.

 

Down there, the Hammerites were still walking around, busy as usual.

 

 

- Nightfall: Ambush - Day 10: 8:00pm

 

I had hoped that having eyes in the back of my head would pay off in a big way, and they most certainly did.  I had a group of shadows.  There were five of them, three bug-beasts, one black and two of the usual green variety, and two rat-apes.  They had this funny idea that they’d sneak behind me, and at some unknown time dispatch me.  I found it amusing, actually.  But it was also most inconvenient for me.  I would have to dispatch them. 

 

I found a nice deep shadow across the corridor, where a torch had gone out.  I stood in it, and waited.  The group of hunters approached, being as quiet that they could be, which basically meant thud, thud, thud, thud, thud.

 

They passed over the shadow in which I hid, right past me.  I knew that the rat-apes could probably smell me, and I was half counting on it.  Sure enough, one of them paused, and began to sniff at the air madly.

 

“Smells something I does!  Sniff, sniff, sniff.  Be it manflesh I thinks!”

 

The other one began to sniff as well.  “Smells it I do as well, brother-kin.  Sees it not I though.  That manfool which we follows, out of sight he now is.”

 

The bug-beasts paused, and looked at the rat-apes.  One of the green ones vocalized its incomprehensible whine-like language.

 

“Shush, greensie-kin, so that wes may hear the manfool.  Slipped behind us he did.  Manfool making a fool of the beasties he thinks.  Find him we shall.  Eats him we shall!”

 

I was trying not to laugh at this.  I was also wondering how I should go about it.  I could engage the rat-apes in melee with no problems, but those bug-beasts had a magical ranged attack, hurling insects from sacks on their throats, which hurt quite a bit, and was even deadly.  I could only imagine what their more advanced black cousin could do. 

 

I, on the other hand, was fast; very fast.

 

While some would be tempted to make a grandiose entrance, with some witty comment, and an insult to my beastie pursuers, I simply dashed from the shadows, and decapitated the two rat-apes.  Their rock heads dropped to the ground with a crack, frozen in the act of sniffing.  That was the end of them, and it had been all too easy.  Those chimps were really over-rated.  The three bug-beasts were frozen with shock and horror.

 

The black one was first to regain its senses.  It inhaled deeply, and the sacks on its neck flailed menacingly. Its body tensed up, and it leaned back, ready to spew forth something truly nasty at me.  Not wanting to be host to a cloud of insects, I raised my arm out in front of me, and let him have a taste of my type of projectile.  I unleashed one of my favorite, and most powerful, Drudic missile attacks, launching a long shaft of super-hot stone from my palm.  It was a variant of the magic missile spell, which I also enjoyed.  The shaft plunged into the things chest, ripping it asunder, strewing bug-beast chunks and a great deal of green goo all around.

 

Wait a minute - magic shafts of rock flying from my palms?  What in blazes was this?  I gave up magic when I came to this realm and lost contact with my source of power! 

 

The two green bug-beasts began to flee.  Since I seemed to have the tool at my disposal, and I really couldn’t let the beasties get away, I dispatched them in a similar fashion, with my magic.

 

It was just like before, back home: my real home where I was born and grew up.  I voiced no incantations, used no reagents, had no spell book, no runes, performed no ritual, nothing, and yet fire flew from my fingertips at my will.  Magic in this land was rather weak, and required serious meditation, and advanced incantations to even attempt, and even then is only possible with a strong allegiance to a deity or elemental force.  What I did, should have been impossible.

 

There was something about this place – something that caused my mana to return.  My night-vision, upon which I had pondered previously, was almost definitely related to this as well.  I remembered something.  In places deep below the earth, magic could be done to weaken the barriers between realms.  Portals could then be opened between them, and their energies could leak into each other.   Could the Faery Queen’s portal be letting mana from the realm of my birth seep into this one?  The results were undeniable. 

 

This was a little too convenient.

 

 

- Jyre: A Maze - Day 10: 8:00pm

 

The tunnel was perfectly circular without anything you could easily identify as a floor or ceiling. I didn't like it and would have avoided going in if it had been at all possible. But the map had shown no other routes that would take us directly to the temple and Daneel was out there, alone. I bit back my anxiety and forced myself to continue.

 

The rock on which we walked was a rusty brown in color and contained all the highlights that could be found on an old piece of iron left out in the rain too long. For a second I even entertained the idea that the tunnel was made up of just that.  But when I ran my hand over the rough surface I found that, underneath a thin layer of crumbling powder, it was in fact solid rock. My fingers brushed over one of the ridges that must have been created by the creature that had burrowed through here and I shuddered. The thing must have been huge!

 

I felt the ground beneath my feet tilt slightly and came to a halt, glancing back to make sure James was still with me. He was. And he was bent over to keep his head from hitting the top of the tunnel. I swallowed hard, suddenly realizing how cramped the tunnel was. "Are you sure this is the right way?"

 

He nodded for me to go on but just as I turned away he stooped down to pick something up off the floor. I moved closer for a better look and he held the scrap of paper in the light so I could read it.

 

"Can't seem to get anywhere.  This place is a maze of twisty passages, all alike, and this damn dwarf keeps trying to kill me."

 

A shiver ran down my spine. I glanced over James's shoulder only to find that the entrance to the tunnel was out of sight. I read the words on the scrap again and sighed. "Do you think..."

 

“Pardon?” James said.

 

I dropped the topic, slipped the note into my pocket, and continued.

 

I'm not sure how long we walked for. So far beneath the earth in such a dead place time no longer seemed to matter. I doubt we were in that tunnel for more than hour, though, or I think I would have felt the strain on my legs. The tunnel, as far as I could tell, ran perfectly straight, without once splitting or being joined by another. It leveled out near the end, growing slightly wider. Without the light James now carried we would have been nearly blind as we stepped out into a large, oval, cavern.

 

My dagger was in my hand before my mind registered what my eyes had seen. There was a huge mass lying in the center of the cavern. I held my hand up for James to stop and, after watching the motionless hulk for a few minutes, slowly edged towards it. As I drew closer I could make out the thing's dark gray skin, shimmering slightly under the blue light. I flexed my fingers, flipping the dagger over in my hand to stop my muscles from freezing up, as I drew up at the thing's side. It never moved once.  “Jyre…” James said, but I paid him no mind.

 

I hesitated for a second, noting the thin horizontal folds that creased its skin. Then I plunged the dagger downwards, driving it in as deep as I could. I almost fell to my knees when the skin parted like a fine sheet. The dagger sank into rotting flesh, my hand going with it. I heard something sizzle then the flesh of my hand was burning. I snatched it away and cradled it under my other arm, dropping the dagger to the floor. The stench that rose from the corpse made me retch. I stared at my dagger or what was left of it, anyway. The entire blade was gone!

 

James quickly ran over, yellow vial in hand.  He poured some of the liquid over my hand, numbing it, and gave the rest to me to drink.  Healing potions taste horrible, but it was better then the pain.  “Why on earth did you do that?” he said, his voice filled with concern.

 

I muttered a "thank you" and blinked back tears. “I... I... I don’t know...”

 

“Seemed like a good idea at the time, eh?” he said with a comforting smile on his face.  “That thing is an estulmia, a giant acidic slug.  It’s still alive and well in today’s world, though usually not seen by men.  You’re lucky it was dead, or you’d be gone now.”

 

All I could do was force a smile in return.

 

As James searched through the debris in the cavern I just stood still, staring. Eight passages. Four on my left, four more to the right, all black pits.   Was it too much to ask for one of them to lead back up?

 

A twinge of pain ran through my hand as I lifted it to scratch my face. I stared at the burns in disbelief. Caused by the thing's blood, James had said. I don't think I would like to come across one of those things when it was alive. Nor the thing that had killed it for that matter! Of course, it might just have starved. I kept that thought in my head as I continued my surveillance of the cavern, refusing to accept that something worse might exist out there. That something might be attacking Daneel even as I stood there.

 

I forced the idea from my head and instead studied the walls of the immense cavern. As I did so an image slowly formed in my head. "Spider," I mumbled. James paused in his search and looked up at me. "It looks like the inside of a spider," I explained.

 

 

- Nightfall: Base of the Abyss - Day 10: 9:00pm

 

I was now in a narrow unlit stairwell.  I could see perfectly, as my innate night-vision was now in full effect.  I reached the bottom of the stairs and found myself at a T-intersection, with passages left and right, trailing off as far as my eyes could see, which was pretty far.  The ground here was now a solid black form, with a sort of a ripple effect too it.  It was cooled lava.  I was unsure if the lava had invaded the constructed corridor, or the corridor was the inside of a natural lava tube.  Since the corridor seemed to weave slightly back and forth as it went, I surmised that the latter was true.  But no matter, I decided left, and left I went.

 

I had not gone far when I came to another T-intersection, but this time I had the option to continue or turn.  I chose to go down the new path.  This new path began to ramp downwards, slightly at first, and then steeply.  The ceiling above stayed at the same level, so soon it was quite high above me.  I saw something up ahead which made me freeze.

 

Arrowheads, about ten of them, slightly visible between cracks in the walls.  The solid dried lava beneath my feet did not seem so solid up ahead, as I could make out the faint outline of a pressure plate, right in front of each arrowhead.  Someone expected unwelcome guests to come this way.  Though this trap would have been deadly to the unaware, to the aware it was trivial to evade.  I simply avoided the plates. 

 

The passage continued as before, and I got the distinct feeling that I was getting very close.  I could no longer see the ceiling above me, and the heat was increasing.  I was relying totally on my night-vision, for there were no torches here set by the Faery Queen’s men.  Up ahead I saw a dim red glow, a glow of lava.  I doubled my speed, reaching a jog, and readied myself for anything.  The end of the hall grew nearer.  It opened up into a very large chamber, the ceiling of which I still could not see at all.  I was almost here.  Finally, I was but half a foot from the opening.  I did not step out. There was a building in front of me.  It was the temple I had seen before, from inside the volcano shaft.  I had made it.  Finally, after a full day of travel underground, I had made it.

 

 

- James: A Looking Glass - Day 10: 9:10pm

 

I noted something that pleased me to no end.  The walls finally matched those described by my spy.  We were finally in the complex where our destination was located, and closing on it fast.  My sense of accomplishment was cut short by a question from Jyre.

 

“So, which way do we go?”

 

I raised my hand to her, a signal to pause for a moment, and to watch me.  Slowly, I closed the shutters of the lantern.  We should have been in total darkness, but we were not.  I could see, faintly, that one of the passages yielded a dim red glow, which would have been invisible before because of the light coming from our lamp.  I could hear by Jyre’s slight gasp that she saw it too.  I opened the shutters.

 

“That way,” I said, pointing down the corridor with the red glow.  “To the volcano’s core.”

 

“The…” she didn’t finish her sentence.  I could tell by her tone that she was not too thrilled by the idea.

 

“Yes, that is the way we must go.  It’s where Master Nightfall would have gone.”

 

So we set forth down my chosen path.  Whenever we came to an intersection, I repeated the process, choosing the path with the greatest red glow.  Though far from fool proof, the method was the best one at hand.  There was only one anomaly, and it was a serious anomaly.  At one of the intersections, one of the tunnels seemed to glow not red, but white.  Following it cautiously, we found ourselves at a small door that lead into a strange, high-vaulted room, with a seven-pointed star incised into the smoothly polished floor.  In the center of the star was a pedestal, and on the pedestal something was covered by a cloth ornately embroidered in a strangely familiar geometric design.  I tried, but could not manage to place the source.

 

Lifting the cloth, we found ourselves staring into a mirror; a looking glass. Then the mirror shimmered, and suddenly showed not our faces, but a scene.  Looking closely, we recognized ourselves, running down an electric gray path of color suspended in inky blackness.  Bizarre creatures floated in the blackness but seemed to pay us no heed as we rushed, perhaps fleeing some unknown terror.  Soon we came to the end of the path, where it went through an arcane gate.

 

We both felt certain that, somehow, we had been given a warning – and a set of directions.  The importance of that gray path we would only learn later.

 

 

- Jyre: The End Draws Near - Day 10: 9:20pm

 

I was several paces in front now, walking on the very edge of the sphere of light the masked lantern provided. I could still make out what lay ahead of me, lit as it was by a distant red glow, the origin of which I couldn't even guess at. We were no longer in the tunnel that the slug had made through the stone but rather in something that I would label as an underground street. The ground on which we walked was perfectly smooth, although it still held a downward slope. Two thin channels had been carved into the stone on either side of the path. They reminded me of the sewage gutters that lined the streets of the slums, only they were empty and dry. The sides of the tunnels were straight and sheer. Occasionally as I moved forward I noticed dark, shadow filled openings which could easily have been doors and windows. But there was something about this place that kept me away. A sense that it was waiting for its occupants to return, that I was an intruder and should leave as quickly as I could.

 

Several times the road we followed was crossed by other, smaller tunnels, each one as carefully carved from the stone as the one on which we walked. I paused at each one, listening for signs of life. Hearing nothing, I moved on, keeping our path as straight as the crisscrossing passageways allowed. I glanced over my shoulder occasionally to make sure James was still there. He would nod each time he saw me but neither of us spoke. There was no desire in either of us to break the age-old silence.

 

At length the street came to an end and we were forced to backtrack to one of the narrower passages. We hadn't gone more than a few steps when it took its first sharp turn. I hesitated, turning to James for reassurance. He gave a slight nod and we moved on. The tunnel continued to twist and turn and was joined by several side passages. I chose to stay with the main path. If James had any objections he never voiced them.

 

Death. That is what I thought of as I listened to the echoes of our footfalls bouncing ahead of us. They sounded dead. The air, thick and stuffy as it was, felt the same. I swallowed back the lump in my throat and tried not to think of the slug that lay rotting in the cavern above our heads. Or Els, his body returning to the soil from which it had come. And Daneel....

 

I stopped to take a small sip from the water bottle that hung on my belt and forced my mind away from such morbid thoughts. Daneel was alive. Nothing we had come across suggested otherwise. Why such a thought would even enter my mind...

 

I felt James' hand on my shoulder and forced myself to move on. It was only as I drew clear of the lantern light once more that I noticed we were no longer in the strange underground street in which we had started. This was an underground streambed, eked out of the rock by thousands of gallons of water. How I had failed to notice the tiny trickle that now ran across the silty ground I don't know. The tiny grains of sand and pebbles barely made a sound as my bare feet passed over them but I could hear James moving behind me, every tiny crunch sounding like a drum beat in my ears. Even so, I doubt he was making half as much noise as I was. It was just my mind's way of letting me know I wasn't alone.

 

As I came to the next bend I picked up the tinniest of noises, nothing more than a gust of air passing through a small gap, yet it brought me to a halt. I signaled for James to put down the lantern, thus shutting off its light, and carefully made my way around the bend. My ears were straining to catch any noise as I slid my way around the sharp turn. My blood pounded in expectation. I reached for my dagger, only to remember it was no longer there. And then I heard it again, the tinniest of whispers. There was something ahead of us in the tunnel and it was alive.

 

 

- Nightfall: The Temple Gate - Day 10: 9:20pm

 

An enemy is at its most dangerous when it is nearest defeat. That little quote ran through my mind as I realized that I was now standing at the Queen’s back door. I had defeated the labyrinth, and stood ready to enter her fortress.  Reflecting on that quiet fact for a moment or two, I slowly made my way down the marble bridge, over lava and brimstone, to the platform where the temple stood.

 

The temple was carved from black and gray stone; lava rock.  All across the surface was a vague pattern of wavy lines, possibly representing vines, or steam.  The base was square in shape, and the walls tapered off as they went up, making the roof about half the size of the base. The entire structure stood on a rock platform, a good hundred feet above the churning lava below, and arguably several thousand feet below the mouth of the volcano, which could no longer be seen up above. Night had fallen. The temple bore no marking, other than the vines. There were no emblems, no glyphs, no structural features, just a simple shape best described as the bottom half of a pyramid, covered in vines. But perhaps it was too soon to judge, for I had not yet seen the far side.

 

The walk over the bridge to the platform was a short one, but my slow pace as I observed made it seem long. This was the only bridge to the platform. Only one way in and one way out, it seemed.  I eventually reached the temple, and found nothing about it which I could not see from the bridge. There was no way in from this side. I chose to go left, and walked the sort distance to the corner, which I peeked around slowly.

 

From what I could see, I surmised that this was indeed the side of the temple with the entrance.  I could not see it, but I did see a pair of stone beasts flanking the massive alcove where the door had to be.  Seeing and hearing no activity, I rounded the corner, and walked to the center of the wall, in front of the door. The door was massive, at least fifty feet across, and a good thirty feet tall. It was a double door, with an obvious seam down the center. Right in the middle of the seam was a massive lock, which looked to be some type of dead-bolt, operable by a key.

 

To be thorough, I walked around the temple once, to make sure I was not missing anything. I found the other three sides to be the same as the first one.  The temple, like this platform, had only one way in and out.  Unfortunately, I had no idea how I was going to get in. I walked back to the door to get a better look at that lock. As I made my way to it, I took a closer look at the two stone guardians. They were quite large, quadruped, with wings, a tail, and a mouth with many sharp teeth. I was glad that there were no such creatures in the Queen’s army. Well, I hoped there were none, at any rate.  I walked up to the lock mechanism, and gave it a close look. It was well above my eye level, so I really couldn’t get that close. It seemed to have a three pronged key-hole in it: three round indentations, with a deeper hole in the center. It looked like a clover with very skinny leaves. I wondered if my medallion was the key, but I ruled that out soon enough, for even though it may fit nicely in one of the three slots, I only had one medallion, and there were three slots.

 

I hummed to myself in contemplation as I looked around the area for an answer. There was nothing on the platform other than the temple and the statues, and nothing off the platform other than a vast complex of lava caverns, stretching off into the dim red darkness. I was sadly stuck one again. I thought about the beings in the gray robes, and how nice it would be if they suddenly showed up and gave me a nice, big, important looking key.  Ah, but that would be too easy.

 

Then something caught my eye. The statues wore medallions! They were stone, not gold, and the chain of the medallion was very much a part of the beast’s stone neck, but the medallion itself seemed removable.  It made sense that one could use his or her medallion along with the two the beasts wore to insert into the three slots.  Without a second thought, I wrapped my fingers around it, and gave a good tug.

 

The medallion turned to gold. I froze, half in astonishment, half in terror. The statue began to breathe.

 

 

- Jyre: A Regrettable Encounter - Day 10: 9:30pm

 

I dropped into a crouch and slowly crept forward, trying to keep to the darker side of the tunnel where my dark clothes would hide me better. Rounding the bend I found the tunnel stretched quite far in front of me, still on a downwards course. The red glow strengthened up ahead, making it difficult to see. I could just make out two dark figures against the redness. I risked moving closer, curious as to who it was. I came to a stop as soon as I could make out their words.

 

"Why does she insist we wait here, anyhoo?"

 

I let out a sigh of relief when I realized the voice was human. I hadn't noticed just how tense I had become until I felt my body relax.

 

"Again wiff thiss ssubject, manfool!" I shuddered. That was definitely not a human voice! Hearing that one speak set my skin to crawling.

 

"Naebody's gonna come doon 'ere. This is just plain dumb. I mean, whai's  gonna go snoopin' aroond some auld empty tunnels fer fun? And there's gotta  be huner'ds o' thay things in that rock. Whit are the chances o' anyun finding this yun? Why cannny we dae sommit useful instead of standin' oot here like a couple o' ejits?"

 

I edged closer, hoping their voices would cover any noise I made. If they were guarding something, it probably meant it would be useful. I had to get passed.

 

"Doesst thy moaning never ccceasssse?"

 

I almost fled when I heard the female's voice again. It was unnatural!

 

"The estulmia'll take care o' anyone whai's stupid enough tai even try comin' that way anyhoo!"

 

My foot caught a stone and sent it spinning across the path. Both guards fell silent and turned to look into the tunnel, alerted by the sound. I cursed myself as I waited for them to return to their chatter. It was the man who spoke first.

 

"How long –"

 

"Sssilence! Attend to your dutiesss!"

 

That was the last thing I needed. Someone who actually knew how to do their job! There was no way I would be able to cross the rest of the tunnel with them watching it as they were. Going back seemed just as risky. I could have shot them, I suppose. I would've managed to take one of them out without them knowing I was there, led the second on a little chase until an opportunity to do something presented itself. It was a fleeting thought. Murder wasn't something I could do and that's what it would have been. I shifted my feet and stared up at the ceiling as I thought. There had to be some way...

 

I smiled as I realized what it was I was staring at and I slowly followed its length with my eyes. Keeping low, I edged over to the opposite wall, moving as slowly as I could so as not to cause too much of a shift in the shadows. Once there I stood, keeping my back pressed against the rock wall then slowly turned until my face was pressed up against stone. Reaching up, I found the rock’s edge and gently pulled myself up. Here the ledge was wide enough for me to stand on comfortably, but as it got closer to the guards it became narrower. If I was careful, however, I would be able to get passed them.

 

I put my back and heels to the wall and shuffled my way sideways, taking extra care not to send more stones into the tunnel. I paused once, as I drew level with the guards, waiting to see if they had noticed me. Neither of them moved. I forced myself to take a deep breath, adjusted my footing and moved on.

 

The rock beneath my leading foot crumbled and shot out into the tunnel. A split second later I was following. I didn't even have time to register that I was falling before both my feet shot out from under me and I went sliding down the side of the tunnel, vaulted forward and smashed into one of the guards. We both went down, the guard landing first and me thumping heavily on his chest. Judging by his blank staring eyes and the blood pooling around his head he was, thankfully, oblivious to my presence.

 

I gave my head a quick shake to clear it then hastily scrambled clear. My foot caught on part of his uniform, pain shot through my ankle as it twisted beneath me and I landed on my knees with a solid thump. I blinked back tears of pain and looked up to find myself staring at the very sharp point of a sword.

 

 

- James:  Returning a Favor - Day 10: 9:30pm

 

Jyre seemed to hear something, and I had no intention of dismissing it.  Her ears were younger and keener than mine, so I took heed of her signal, and shut the lantern, giving her all the darkness she needed.  She crept forward, utterly silently, and I did the same, following her, utterly silently.  Soon, I saw the source of her auditory warning.  There was a guard post up ahead.  I must admit, it was a breath of fresh air.  Not the contact with sentient life, but the reassurance that we had gone the right way all along, and were getting close to our destination.

 

I peered closely at the guard post.  It was a standard checkpoint configuration.  There was a wall built across the cave opening, with a gate in the center.  Two guards, one was human, and the other savilarine, a human reptile hybrid, occasionally referred to as a Hiss, or the more colloquial Hissie.  There would be two more guards behind the gate.  I must admit that I had never gotten to examine a live savilarine specimen before, so my curiosity to observe was tremendous.  I crept ever closer, to gain a better look.

 

The savilarine was very human in form, female.  Coming from the perspective that she was once a human, the things to note as new about her would be the ridges of skin along the sides of her neck, which stood out forming a cobra-like hood.  There was very little human left in her face, as it looked almost exactly like the face of a snake or lizard.  She was covered with scales, a dark armor-like surface which covered her body, with the exception of her chest, abdomen, groin, and the insides of her legs and arms, which bore a lighter, softer shingle-like scale pattern.  She had breasts, though they were no more than useless relics of her previous humanity, much like her skinny limp tail was a worthless relic of her serpentine half.  She wore no clothing other than bracers and boots, for she really needed none with those armor-like scales.  I actually found a lot to admire about the beast, especially this one. 

 

You should always try to have a plan – simply as a mutually agreed-upon basis for changing the plan!  So I was a bit surprised when Jyre began her move to attack the guards.  How best to support her?  Reviewing the options, I decided that the best thing I could do was stand-by to provide support with arrows in the event her plan did not work as intended.  With some effort, I worked my way up to a dark crevice from which I could survey the scene, and readied my bow.

 

The next thing I knew, Jyre had somehow gotten herself into far more trouble than I had expected. She had managed to climb up onto some railing, and then drop down on the human guard!  He was now quite dead, impaled by his own sword, and Jyre would be as well if I did not do something quickly.  The savilarine was already drawing back her sword to finish Jyre off!  I put arrow to bowstring as quickly as I could, aimed for the creature’s neck, and shot.

 


Chapter 19 - Donning Our True Skins

 

- Nightfall: Stone Guardians - Day 10: 9:30pm

 

I heard a terrifying roar and felt a huge pain across my side.  A large stone claw swatted me off my feet, and hurled me several yards towards the ledge.  With my pride more damaged then anything else, I made a quick roll and recovery.  Then I was back on my feet, facing my foe.

 

The statues, both of them, had come alive.  I really should have expected as much, after all, why put statues of monsters to guard a gate when you could put enchanted statues of monsters?  All I could do was utter a curse under my breath, and watch their every move.  They, of course, were watching me with equal scrutiny.  The just stood there, standing not two feet from where they had been before, watching me.  Their eyes gave off a bright yellow light, highlighting the dust in the air with beam-like vision.  They took turns staring at me, and then looking around the room while the other stared at me.  I stood perfectly still, poised for combat.  I felt like it was my turn to be a statue. 

 

I took the opportunity to size up my opponents.   Their bodies were, for the most part, shaped like large carnivorous cats, most resembling the massive nine-foot tall lions of mythology.  They did not have fur or hair, but sleek, leathery stone skin.  Their faces were roughly human in appearance, but somehow also non-human.  The eyes were pure black.  Every so often I glimpsed shark-like teeth and a forked tongue inside the humanish mouths.  The front limbs were massive and arm-like, but bore clawed feet rather than hands.  The back limbs were much more cat-like, and fit more with the rest of the body.  A set of wings lay folded on their backs, and the tails, three on each, were that of a scorpion’s. 

 

In all honesty, I really wasn’t all that worried.  Sure they may be huge, made from stone, and had more than enough ability to shred my frail body, but I had a distinct advantage.  I could melt them at a whim.  I drew my left hand slowly behind my back, and began to whisper the incantations to melt stone.  I could feet the heat in my palm as the charge began to form.  But then it was gone.  I broke into a cold sweat when I realized that I had just spent the last of my mana.  Sure I had a huge magical arsenal at my disposal, but I could not use any of it until I let my mana charge.  I had only begun to gain it since I entered the underground, which was only about 12 hours ago.  Since mana charges very slowly when one is awake, all that I had was already spent.  I was defenseless.   Staying calm, and regaining my breath, I instead put my hand on my sword hilt, and made ready for what was coming.

 

Suddenly one turned to the other and began to speak in a strange language.  The other replied in a similar way, and then they both, in unison, focused their gazes upon me.  “That’s not good,” I said under my breath.  I was right.  They both let out an ear shattering roar in my general direction.  What’s more, they unfolded their massive bat-like wings, and began to fan them, vigorously.  I was skeptical that they could lift their huge, stone, bodies off the ground with wings that size.  The wings were big, but not big enough.  However, as the wind created by the flapping hit me, I understood the true purpose.   I was thrust once again off my feet by the gust of wind, and pushed further towards the ledge.

 

“Oh now, that’s not nice!”  I shouted, quite upset at what they were doing.  If it had been a steady blow of air, I could have conquered it.  But no, it was an uneven gusting wind, enough to knock you off your feet, blow you several yards, and let you get back up just in time for them to do it again.  At the current level of wind strength, it would not get me over the ledge, though, at least not while I was wearing this armor.    Unfortunately they realized this, and began to move closer, the wings still flapping away, blowing me ever closer to the ledge.

 

Sometimes I wonder how I manage to stay so calm under such dire situations, yet I loose my temper over minor frustrations. The answer to that is beyond me, but I was thankful for it.  I could try to jump, but even if I could land on my feet on the lava below, how would I get back up?  I could try and assault the creatures, but that was rather hard when I was being pushed further and further away. 

 

Realizing the obvious, I drew my sword.  I then thrust it into the ground (it slid in quite easily), and held on tight.  The gusts of air came, but I could not be shaken from my anchor.  I was safe for now, but I couldn’t stay like this forever.  They seemed to not want me to stay like this forever either, for as soon as they realized that I was not budging, they halted their attempt at blowing me off the ledge.

 

Well, as much as I was glad for that, I didn’t really feel like going back to the staring game.  Actually I would have rather done that than had to deal with what they chose to do next.  One of them charged me.  I didn’t have time to pull my sword from the stone as the beast thundered upon me, forcing an extremely quick roll to the right.  It stopped inches from the ledge, and turned to face me, bearing a hideous grin.  I realized that I was now between them, right where they wanted me.

 

A cruel game of cat and mouse was being played, and I was the mouse.  They began to circle me, spiraling slowly closer, as I stood, motionless, awaiting any offense.  Acting totally nonchalant, I waited till neither of them was particularly near my sword, and walked over to pick it up.  I expected some punishment for this act, but they didn’t seem to care.  Perhaps they underestimated the blade.  They wouldn’t for long.

 

I waited as they drew closer, and closer, and closer, spiraling down towards me.  Soon, one was just out of striking distance.  I took that as my cue, of course, and lunged at the beast, aiming for the throat.  The creature raised its claw, and batted my blade away, with a strike that was actually faster than mine.  I blinked.  Even if the sword hit the claw rather than the throat, it should still have turned the creature to stone.  Of course then I realized that the beast was already made from stone, and felt quite sheepish.  Reacting, I swung again, that stroke also deflected.  The beast moved into a sitting position, grinning wickedly at me.  I backed up slowly, mindful of the other beast, which had sat down as well, making a deep chuckling noise. 

 

“Oh, so you think you’re faster than me, eh?”

 

It nodded. 

 

I paused, realizing that they understood me.  I tried a different approach.

 

“Pardon me, but may I simply be on my way?  I came through that door there, and it shut behind me.  I simply want to go back through.”  I pointed to the huge door to the temple they were guarding.  I hoped that they were not conscious while they were stone.  If they were, then my little lie would get a nice laugh.

 

The one I spoke to looked over my head at the other, sitting behind me.  It seemed to shrug, and then speak in words I once again could not understand.  The one I spoke to snarled, and then looked me over again.

 

“Manfool speaks to us.  Tries to fool us.  Thinks that man is more clever then beast.  Fool is he.  Hears not your lies.”  Its lips where not moving, but I heard the voice.

 

The other one spoke.  I could tell it was the other only by the difference in the deep sinister voice.  “None shall pass, says the Queen.  All who have passed have passed, none more shall pass through nor from.  Protects the gate, says she.  Watches for manfools, says she.  We do as she commands.”

 

“The Queen commands us.  Crush the infidel and the burglar.  Maim the intruder and the thief.  Destroy the spy and the bandit.  None shall pass this gate.”

 

“But then, says the Queen, will come another.  The Queen, she warned us.  Watches for he who is dark as nightfall.  When finds this one, says she, plays with it we does.  Tests it.  Awaits him, does she.  Brings him to her, orders she.  The Queen commands us, and you shall follow.”

 

I listened in disbelief.  She was expecting me?  She wanted me to come?  I could not believe this!  Before I knew it, they were standing once more, and walking towards me.  I drew up my blade in reaction to their proximity. 

 

“Puts down your blade.  Wants through the gate, and through the gate you shall go.  Guides you to her, we shall.”  I reluctantly went at ease.  “Follows me,” said one of them, which stepped between me and the huge door.  The other one stood behind me. 

 

We walked slowly to the gate.  I could feel the gaze of the beast behind me penetrating every inch of my body, taking note of every detail.  The one in front stepped up to the door, and reared up on its hind legs, using the wings for balance.  I was amazed at the shear size of the thing as it towered above me.  It fit its claw neatly into what I thought before was a place to put the medallions, and sure enough, the lock shuddered, and then bounced open with a very loud click.  Slowly, the gate drew open.  I strained my eyes to see anything of the darkness within, but the beast blocked most of my view.

 

 

- Jyre: No Time for Regret - Day 10: 9:40pm

 

I stared at the dead creature in shock, noted the still quivering arrow shaft sticking out of the side of her neck, then shifted my eyes to find James standing a short way down the tunnel, his bow in hand and a none-too-pleased frown on his face. I hauled myself to my feet and tested out my injured ankle. I could stand, just, but I wasn't sure how long it would take my weight. Still, no lasting harm done.

 

“Why… why did you do that?” I said, sick to my stomach.

 

“Do what?” James asked, as he searched the bodies.

 

“Kill her…” I said very slowly.

 

“Better her than you.”

 

"No, James. It is never better to value one above another..."

 

I looked sadly at the slain woman’s face.  Was it odd that I thought of this beast as a woman, and not a creature?  I peered closely at her, my eyes avoiding the shaft of wood that stuck out of her neck.  I noticed something, and it made me sick to my stomach.  There was a bracelet around her forearm.  I knew her.  I didn’t know her well, or even her name, she was just an acquaintance.  A guard in The Lady’s service, like I once was.  I wondered, if I had stayed, would I have become a beast as well?  I pushed the concept out of my mind.

 

I turned around to look at the gate.  It was a portcullis, which opened by sliding upwards.  I saw that there was a hand-crank to open it.  I peered through the bars of the portcullis, to see if there were any angry guards behind.  There was nothing but an empty corridor, flooded with red light.  Satisfied, I turned the crank, hauling the bars upwards.  James came over and assisted me, and soon it was open.

 

I hobbled through the now open gate, and looked down the tunnel.  I could see a short bridge, spanning a stream of lava that was flowing along below. There were signs that more guards were to have stood on the other side of the wall, but they were absent.  There was a worn spot where someone had paced and what looked like the remains of a cooking fire. But no guards. It was at that moment that I heard someone shout.

 

I was across the bridge in seconds, the pain in my ankle dismissed at the sound of that voice. I dashed into the tunnel without another thought of the missing guards and nearly ran into the wall when it took a sudden turn to the right. I skidded to a halt in the dirt, pivoted around and ran on, aware now of the sounds of combat coming from up ahead. I had to get to him! If I failed now...

 

I lost my footing again as I spotted the two guards just ahead of me and went skidding across the ground to slam painfully into the tunnel wall. One glance at the guards' backs told me they hadn't heard a thing. The sounds that had brought me here apparently held their attention as well. I forced myself to creep up on them slowly, despite the blood that pounded through me, beating in my ears like a drum. They were both human, at least from behind. And, distracted as they were, taking them out was a cinch. Two fistfuls of hair, a loud crack followed by two crumpled bodies at my feet. I barely spared the unconscious guards a glance before stepping over them to reach the source of the commotion.

 

I took one glance at the scene before me, swore and ran back to get James. I found him at the bend in the tunnel. Well, ran into him anyway, bounced backwards and landed on my rump. I lifted a shaky finger and pointed in the direction from which I had just come. "It's Daneel. He –" I struggled for breath. "Help him!"

 

 

- Nightfall: An Uphill Battle- Day 10: 9:40pm

 

Soon what was beyond the door was no longer the center of my attention.  One thing the beast behind me did not realize, was that with my sen-saronde, I could see it perfectly well.  He obviously did not take this into account as he drew back his scorpion-like tails, ready to strike me dead.  They countered my bluff with a bluff.  How devious that was.  I was impressed.  I fought back my urge to react, in favor of a more useful approach.  I would have to have perfect timing though. 

 

The tails lunged, and so did I, straight towards the beast in front of me.  The attacker, his wits lost in the thrill of the kill, altered his aim so that it would strike me.  Unfortunately for them both, as I ran under the beast opening the door, the path the tails needed to take was right through the creature’s rump, and so plunged the poison laden stingers, all three. 

 

With a quick roll to the side, I evaded the falling mass of the creature as it howled with agony.  It fell forward, its upper body falling through the door.  With his claw removed from the receptacle, the doors began to slide shut!  The attacker, horrified by what he had done, cried out with rage, a roar that shook the entire platform.  It turned towards with me with a jolt, his eyes filled with bloodlust.  He began to stomp his way quickly towards me, with intent to end this game now.

 

If it wasn’t for the armor enhancing my strength and speed, I would never have been able to deflect the onslaught of strikes the creature thrust at me.  It was, however, a loosing battle.  With every jab of a tail I deflected, or bat of a claw I dodged, I was getting closer and closer to the ledge.  The beast was obviously enraged, and its performance was suffering for it, but four legs and three tails were more than a match for two legs and one sword, and it knew it.  I learned how to fence through years and years of experience, but it knew how to use its body by magical instinct.

 

I really need to stop doing that – loosing myself in thought, right in the middle of a duel to the death.  The stinger tipped tail of the beast knocked a nice slice through the rim of my hat.  This was my second best hat, too.  I countered the loss with a very nicely made slash across the things nose, scattering dust and pebbles everywhere.  Actually I aimed for the eye, but scratching his pride was better than nothing.

 

Suddenly, right in the middle of a parry followed by a half spin and a slash, which was blocked, I heard a shout from behind me!  I really couldn’t look to see who it was at that particular moment, seeing as I was trying to keep these scorpion tails from ripping my head open.  Imagine my surprise when the beast succumbed to its own curiosity, and halted its assault for a spilt second to glance over my head.  Now, I could have taken a clear slash at it, but I had a better idea.  I ducked and rolled right between its legs, under its body, and out the back.  Now he was the one closer to the ledge.  It didn’t take long for the beast to figure out where I went, and it wasn’t about to make things easy for me.

 

From my new vantage point, I could clearly see where the shout had come from.  I could make out two small figures standing on a platform to the side of the chasm.  I couldn’t believe it.  It was James, and Jyre.

 

 

- Jyre: So Close, Yet So Far - Day 10: 9:45pm

 

I held my breath as I watched, so totally helpless.  I pounded on James’s shoulder, begging for him to do something, not even realizing that absolutely nothing was escaping my lips.  All of a sudden he thrust a handful of fire arrows into my hand, saying simply, “Kill it!” as he wielded his bow and took aim.

 

 

- James: Fire Support - Day 10: 9:45pm

 

I could see Dan clearly in the fierce red light of the lava.  He was engaged in a rather nasty fight for his life with a large stone manticore.  He and the beast were both moving incredibly fast, and I could tell that Dan couldn’t hold up much longer.  The manticore was attacking far more often than it was blocking, and any one of his strikes could kill Dan, while Dan would have to hack at the thing for hours to make a dent.  Dan was more skilled than the beast, but the beast was clearly more than a match, due to its stone nature.  A shame too, Dan had the stone-strike sword.

 

I knew that fire arrows would be no more than wasp stings to a stone manticore, but it would buy Daneel the diversion he needed to either get the hell away from the beast, or finish it off.  Knowing Dan, he’d choose the latter approach.  I grabbed a handful of the things, and gave half to Jyre, saying simply, “Kill it!”  I waited for a clear line of fire, which Dan gave to me by skillfully rolling under the creature, placing it between him and us.  I shouted to Jyre, who now had the arrow to string as well, to “FIRE!!”

 

It was a long distance, but fire arrows, once in flight, weighed next to nothing.  Their paths were straight and true.  Mine slammed into the beasts rump, Jyre’s into the back of its knee.  I could see it roar in anger as it spun around, forcing Dan to the ground to avoid the swinging tails, to face us.  I swallowed hard as I recalled that a manticore can, when properly excited, actually hurl poisoned rods from its tail up to a hundred feet, or more.  This manticore was massive, and made from stone, so it would be extra strong, and the shafts extra heavy.  I didn’t have time to calculate weather Jyre and I were safe, only to shout, “Again!”

 

We fired off a second salvo, this time both our arrows hit the beast in the face.  I could see its tails growing rigid, drawing back to fire.  Jyre shouted to me something about Daneel, but I shouted “Duck!” over her cries, just as three large stone shafts flew over our heads, and plunged into the ground mere feet behind us.  I could feel Jyre shuddering with fear.  I could do nothing to comfort her at this point.  All I said to her was, “Again!” as I rose to my knees, to fire a third fire arrow.

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

I didn’t have time to be angry at those two for coming here, since they were doing a fare job of helping me out.  The beast was now facing them, not thinking about me, and quite upset.  I took the chance to put a bit of distance between myself and it, as I reformulated my approach.  I noticed that the area where we had been fighting was now extremely beat up.  Cracks and craters from the strikes of its tails covered the edge of the platform, and it looked to been weakened.  I had managed to thrust my sword, and pull it out, of the ground quite easily, so I knew it was actually rather soft.  Still, the beast was standing right in the middle of the damage, stomping its feet, and the ground beneath it did little more than shudder.

 

An idea came to me.  It was pure insanity, but it just might work.  I began making violent hand signals to Jyre and James, praying that they would understand my very serious requests.  I thought I saw Jyre’s recognition, as she shouted at James and pointed at me, but then suddenly they both ducked!  I gasped as the creature, all of a sudden, actually launched spears from its tails!  I held my breath, praying that none of the missiles hit their targets.  A third salvo of fire arrows assured me that Jyre and James were both still alive and kicking. 

 

 

- Jyre: 

 

I drew a third fire arrow to my bow, not even waiting for James’s signal to fire, but something made me pause.  Daneel was trying to tell us something!  He pointed downwards, and then made a very odd gesture with his hands. 

 

“James!  It's Daneel, he's –”

 

James didn’t seem to acknowledge what I said.  All he did was shout “Duck!” over my words.  I gasped in confusion, and then glanced over at Daneel again, just in time to see three shafts of stone hurling towards us! I acted purely on instinct, curling myself into a little ball in attempt to make myself too small for the beast to hit. The spikes slammed into the ground behind me and then I heard James speak but the ringing in my ears prevented me from making out the words.

 

 

- James:

 

I paused, seeing that Jyre had not responded to my command.  “Jyre!  If Daneel does not see that we are both still alive, then he may do something we will all regret!  You must fire with me, to make it clear to him that we are alive!”

 

That seemed to stir her quite nicely, as she got to her feet, and made herself ready to fire.  I said, after a second's hesitation, “Now!” and we both fired, scoring direct hits again, which did little damage. 

 

Then my eyes caught it.  Dan was making hand signals to me.  It was hard to see at such a distance, but he made it clear enough.  “What’s he telling you?” Jyre asked, her voice demanding. 

 

“He’s telling us to shoot fire into the lava, and then ready water arrows.”  I said, hesitating to take such foolish action. 

 

“Then DO it!” she yelled, and immediately shot a fire arrow into the lava.  I, a second later, did the same.  A flare of flame plumed forth from the lava, and out flew several dozen flaming spheres: fire elementals. 

 

“What is the fool thinking,” I shouted as Jyre and I readied our water arrows.  I could see Daneel clearly signaling us to wait, and defend ourselves if need be, but do not attack.

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

The good news was that everything was going according to my scheme.  The bad news was that now I was in much more danger than before.   The fire elementals, extremely excited by the fire arrows, darted about the cavern like drunk fireflies.  It did not take them long to notice the dark man and large beast on the platform, and the two dark people on the ledge.  A third of them went after James and Jyre, and two thirds after me and my stone adversary.  The beast was now very, very, upset, and began to shoot tail spines madly at the hovering spheres of flame, which only served to make them even more excited.  It was time to put the rest of my plan in action.

 

They began to fire, small bolts of liquid flame, more powerful than a fire arrow, and twice as fast.  The massive beast made an easy target, as the elementals coated it with the bolts.  It roared its poor stone heart out, thrashing and swatting to no avail.  James and Jyre were putting up a great fight from the ledge.  They had excellent cover, and both were expert marksmen, so they had little to worry about.  One water arrow will douse a fire elemental easily.  Too bad my stone friend had none.  Too bad I had no time to fetch mine out of my pack.   

 

I had to keep moving, weaving back and forth as the bolts struck ground, tossing up chunks of earth and huge clouds of dust, which I used to my advantage as a smoke screen.  I ran, dodging as I went, in an arch around the beast, letting the fire projectiles cut away at the platform.  A few came dangerously close, singeing my clothing, but not enough to set them on fire.  It didn’t take long for it to be enough.  I felt the ground beneath my feet lurch violently.  Amid the chaos of the beast thrashing about to defend itself, the smoke, the elementals hovering about, and bolts flying every which way, I decided that I’d really not like to be where I was.  The edge of the platform was nearing total destruction, and thankfully the beast was still on it, but not for long.

 

It lunged its body away from the crumbling edge, an expression of pure panic on its stone face.  It was lunging straight at me.  I had worked too hard to kill this thing to let it escape now.  “Sorry!” I said, as I swung my sword across its face with all my strength.  My blade rammed into the side of its head.  The force of my attack was just enough to get it to rear backwards, landing on its haunches, pushing the entire crumbling edge of the platform down with it.  As it and the entire stone mass below it fell into the churning lava below, it made one last effort to save itself, spreading its wings to fly.  No such luck.  It was too heavy to fly before, and it was still too heavy to fly.  The beast, howling with pain and rage, landed in the lava.  Almost all of the elementals saw this, and swooped down for the kill.  Everything was working beautifully.

 

But my worries were only half over.  I still had a very pressing matter to worry about: James and Jyre.  They had no way of getting to me, and didn’t have enough water arrows to kill all the elementals.  James was staring at me with the “what a dumb idea” look on his face that I always got tired of seeing.   True they had helped me, but now they needed to help themselves by getting the hell away from this place.  I had to trust that they would do the smart thing and run.  I looked over at Jyre, and for an instant we made eye contact.  I saw something in her eyes, I’m not sure what, but I knew that she wanted to get to me more than anything else.  Hopefully James would be able to make her do the right thing, and get to safety. 

 

I turned around and looked at the door to the temple, held open by the dead beast’s crushed head.  That’s where I needed to go.

 

 

- Jyre:

 

I didn’t know why I trusted Daneel enough to do such a foolish thing, but I did it anyway.  I fired, one after another, at least four fire arrows into the lava below the platform. The instant the first arrow hit the lava a group of fire elementals shot out from the lava, spiraling upwards before spreading out to take down any threats they could see.

 

As James rummaged through his sack, I remembered the water arrows, and quickly readied mine. One of the elementals spun towards me and I released the arrow, instantly regretting what I was being forced to do. The water crystal hit the ball of flame with a splash, a sizzle, and a puff of steam. I readied the next arrow and waited for the next elemental to make itself my target. A few managed to fire flaming bolts towards us but we ducked and the shots dug into the wall behind us instead.  I couldn’t see much of what was happening with Daneel. There was too much dust rising from the elementals to bolts to let me make anything out. I forced myself to stop thinking about him and focus on the task at hand. 

 

 

- James:

 

This was madness!  The concept of releasing an extremely powerful foe to slay a less powerful one was reckless at best.  Yet we did as Dan ordered.  I hoped he knew what he was doing.  It didn’t take me long to see that he had a crafty plan, though I still didn’t know how he planned to keep the elementals off of him!  I noticed that Jyre was doing a great job of fending off the red orbs, so I concentrated my attention on just what in hell Dan was trying to accomplish over there.  All I could see was dust.

 

His idea dawned on me when I noticed that some of the elementals’ projectiles were actually going through the platform.  That is, they fired at him, he moved out of the way, and the bolt went clear through the earth and out the other side!  He was using the elementals to cut the ledge off!  Remarkable, I thought to myself, and still totally ludicrous.  I watched in amazement as the plan worked beautifully, and a large chunk of the ledge, with the manticore still on it, fell into the lava, a good distance below.  The beast was none-too-happy, seeing as it was slowly melting in what must be a very painful death, even for a creature of solid stone.  The elementals, nearly all of them, swooped down for the kill.  The ones that did not either wandered off, or were dispatched by Jyre’s bow.  Soon, however, they would be back at us, and Jyre’s arrow cache would not last forever.  I shot Dan a look, saying, “what a dumb idea,” and he shot one back that usually meant, “I’ll think of something.”  He had better, and fast.  I had no intention of becoming a barbecued scholar deep underground.

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

I left the battle scene behind me, darting as fast as I could over the hulk of the dead beast, and into the darkness of the temple.  I quickly pressed my back to the wall, next to the door, and waited, hoping that no elemental would follow.  They had a short attention span, so even if any had seen me go in, by the time they were through with the melting creature, they would have forgotten about me.  I could still hear the thing screaming. 

 

Satisfied that I was not being followed, I turned my attention to my setting.  I was in a small pre-chamber, barely illuminated.  A large vaulted passage lead to the main chamber of the temple, and from it I could see a dead red, lava-like glow.  Knowing that I would have to step into the light, and risk being seen by the elementals again, I bolted forward through the vaulted portal.

 

That really wasn’t the best thing I could have done.  No sooner had I stepped through the threshold, I felt something that was most definitely a vine slide itself around my leg, and jolt me forward, very quickly.  I fell flat on my back, stifling the cry of pain that came as a result.  It looked as if I had stumbled upon another defense, and a truly evil one indeed.  The entire room was filled with vines.  The single room took up the entire inner cavity of the temple, with the exception of the pre-chamber.  In the center of the floor was a square lava pool, and hovering above it was a magnificent yellowish orb, probably a portal.  Everywhere I looked, I saw mangled and mutilated bodies of animals and people, some on the floor, and some wrapped in the vines.  I was about to join them.

 

I struggled in vain to get myself free, but unfortunately it didn’t matter that I was smarter than the vines, they were faster and stronger than me.  Soon I was off the ground, and surrounded by the things as they slithered about me, jolting me this way and that.  I cut at the stuff furiously with my sword, turning short sections of it to stone, which broke off before the petrifaction could spread.  I was, however, beginning to make headway, for ironically the vines were much easier to break when they were stone.  I had to work extremely quickly and carefully at the same time to hack myself free, while making sure I didn’t encase myself in a cocoon of stone vines.  Things took a turn for the worse when the vines, through some strange act of deductive reasoning, attacked my sword!  The vines wrapped themselves tightly around the blade, quickly spinning a stone cocoon around it.  The weight of the stone and vine mass grew tremendously, and soon the blade was yanked from my hand.  Defenseless, I felt the vines wrapping tighter and tighter around me, squeezing me, holding me in place, covering every inch.  The petrifaction spread throughout the entire vine quickly and, since so much of it was touching the sword, it could not break off fast enough!  Luckily, or maybe unluckily, The entire weight of stone vine grew to be far greater than the natural cling of the vine could support, and all of it, the entire plant along with the dead bodies, my sword, and me, came crashing off the wall, to the ground!  For me, it was a good ten feet drop, with only several layers of stone vine as a cushion. Oh damn, this didn’t look good at all. 

 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as I felt myself, bound and helpless, fall.  I spun as I fell, the lava looming in and out of view, closer every time.  With an almighty crash, I and the mass of stone vines around me struck the ground.  Everything went black.

 


Chapter 20 - Rescue

 

- Jyre: The Strength to Push Forward - Day 10: 9:50pm

 

They reminded me of birds on the hunt, diving in towards the sinking manticore, firing off several shots then pulling away sharply, pivoting round and diving down again. I watched them for several seconds, frozen by shock as they continued to prey on the dying beast. Then I remembered why I had come here and instantly began searching for him. He was standing on the dead manticore's back, staring across at us. For a second our eyes met but if he meant to tell me something it was lost to me. Then he spun around on his heels, glanced over his shoulder once and disappeared inside.

 

"Daneel!!"

 

I ran forward, the elementals forgotten in my desperation. I had to get to him!

 

"Jyre!"

 

I slipped clear of James's outstretched hand and ran to the edge. Looking down I saw only lava. I ran to the other side, searched the walls in panic. Nothing! I had to get across!! I was about to go tearing back across the ledge again when James caught me by the shoulders and spun me around.

 

"Jyre, will you listen to me?!"

 

I lifted my foot, meaning to kick him and break free but he shook me. Hard. I closed my eyes and forced the panic down, swallowed and nodded.

 

"We need to find a way across. But we're not going to do that by running around in blind panic. Now just stop a minute and think. We need an idea before those elementals finish their little game."

 

I glanced over my shoulder and discovered that only the manticore's head and shoulders were still above the lava's surface. I let James lead me back into the tunnel as I tried to calm my thoughts enough to think. There had to be a way!

 

"Answer a few questions for me. Do you remember passing any other passages near the bridge?"

 

I thought for a second and shook my head, knowing he was only asking to try and get my mind on track. He already knew we hadn't passed anything. I studied the tunnel walls as I waited, seeking out anything that might be of use.

 

"Do you –?"

 

"The guards!" James just looked at me in confusion. This time I did kick him, in the shin, just hard enough for the shock to break his grip. Then I ran back to the sharp bend in the tunnel where I had left the second set of guards. I dropped down to my knees and started to search them.

 

"Jyre, what..."

 

I paused for a second and turned to look at James. "Why are they here? It doesn't make sense! Why guard a dead end tunnel!! I heard the other guard say that... that they were guarding an entrance. But what entrance!!" I didn't want to waste time on more words so I went back to searching. James joined me, frisking the second guard. Then he suddenly drew out a scroll, sank back on his knees and started to read. I froze with my hand inside the first guard's shirt and waited. I could hear my heart thumping against my rib cage and my breath was coming in slow and raged gasps. My tears had dried into sticky lines on my cheeks. James was frowning.

 

"What's wrong?" I shuffled around so I could see what he was looking at. It was a map.

 

He pointed to a square in the map's center which was marked with several strange symbols. "That's the temple," he said simply. "And that," he pointed to a pair of parallel lines," is the bridge we can just make out on the other side."

 

I nodded that I understood.

 

He sighed. "What doesn't make sense is, according to this map, there are three other bridges, so together they make up the four points of the compass."

 

I laughed. Or maybe it was a whimper. "But... There's..."

 

James didn't wait for me to get the words out. He grabbed me by the wrist, hauled me to me feet and led me back to the ledge. He turned his back to me for a second and I searched out the elementals. Four or five of them had stopped attacking the helpless beast now and were just hovering above the lava. In another minute or two the manticore would be gone. If James hadn't been there I would have fled.

 

"Watch," he commanded, his voice amazingly calm. I glanced over just in time to see him throw a handful of dirt over the side of the ledge.

 

"What are you..." My question died away when, not more than five feet beneath us, the dirt hit something solid, bounced and lay still, seemingly suspended in mid-air.

 

"Clever. Very clever," James mumbled under his breath. Then he turned to look me in the eye. It's a magical bridge. And if that map's right, it'll take us right across to the temple."

 

I glanced down at the bridge, which couldn't have been more than eight inches wide, then back at James. "And the elementals."

 

James smiled. "I need to mark the bridge so they we don't walk off it and plunge to our deaths." He held up two water arrows he had found on the guard he had searched. "Think you can hold them off?"

 

I reached out to take them but my sweat-laden palms slipped on the smooth wood. I wiped them on my legs but before the arrows were in my hand I could feel the sweat beading out on my skin. I hesitated, knowing that I would be unable to fire a bow with my hands sweating as they were.

 

"Here!" James stuffed the arrows into his pack, grabbed hold of the bottom of my top and ripped a long thin strip free. He wrapped it around my uninjured hand to from a thin barrier between my sweat and the arrow. I nodded my thanks, took the arrows and placed one of them in my mouth. The other I put to the string of my bow. Then I swung my legs over the edge of the ledge and let myself slip down to the bridge where James waited for me.

 

"Ready?"

 

I nodded once. He moved forward, scattering the dirt in front of him to mark out the bridge's path. I forced myself to remain calm as he moved slowly forward, concentrating on my breathing, keeping it nice and slow. At length James was far enough ahead for me to follow safely. I kept one eye on James and one on the elementals as I moved, careful to step only where James had, lest I miss the bridge and fall to my death. I tried not to think of the fact that I could see nothing between me and the bubbling lava below. The one time I let my mind dwell on the fact I was swept by panic, certain that any second the bridge would disappear and we would both end up in the lava below. Hearing James up ahead, quietly talking to me as we went, kept me from losing myself completely. I wrenched my eyes back to the elementals, berating myself for my stupidity.

 

All that was left of the manticore now was the very top of its head and its large angry eyes. The elementals had circled it and now took it in turns to fire off bolts of flame at the dead beast. It was almost as if they were playing with it, maddened by its invasion of their territory. I swallowed back the lump in my throat as I shuffled forward. There was a loud slurping sound and the manticore finally disappeared. We were only half way across the bridge.

 

"Uh, James," I whispered as quietly as I could," is there any chance that you could move a little faster?"

 

I don't know whether he heard me or not, but he did seem to pick up speed. I still felt like a snail.

 

The elementals began to spread out, each one moving in its own little circle, which got bigger each time it completed a circuit. "They're looking for us!"

 

"We're almost there," James assured me.

 

One of the elementals stopped. I knew, despite its lack of features, that it was staring right at me! I increased the tension in the bow string and felt my arm spasm. “We have to get to Daneel!” I told myself, taking a long, deep breath. "We have to get inside the temple.”

The elemental suddenly shot straight at me and I almost lost my footing. I could hear it now, a loud, angry burning mass of flames. I couldn't move!

 

"Jyre!"

 

The arrow shot from the bow and hit the elemental dead center. It sizzled, hissed and went out. I let a long sigh and started forward again.

 

"Give me your hand."

 

I glanced forward, expecting to see James but instead finding solid rock. I lifted my gaze to find that we had reached the end of the bridge. James was already on the ground above. I was about to reach for his hand when I heard the sound of another elemental behind. I turned to see it moving steadily towards the bridge. I brought the second arrow to bear.

 

"No! Give me your hand!"

 

I glanced back at James, uncertain. Then I took a gamble. I threw him my bow, then leapt for the platform's edge. My fingers curled around the edge of the rock and I kicked with my feet, trying to haul myself up. James hands grabbed my wrists and I was moving. I heard the whoosh of a bolt being fired, kicked again and rolled onto the ledge just as the bolt bit into the rock beneath me. Tiny splinters cut into my skin but otherwise I was unhurt.

 

"Nearly there," James said with a smile as he helped me to my feet. He took the second arrow from my trembling fingers and returned my bow. "Get inside!" He shoved me in the shoulders and I ran.

 

My legs were jelly beneath me, threatening to collapse with every step I took. My lungs burned, begging for oxygen as I gasped for air. I could feel my heart straining with every beat. I must have stumbled at least three times but James was always there to help me up. The hardest part was scrambling over the dead manticore's bulk. Exhausted as I was, it felt more like a mountain than a tiny hillock but I made it at last, stumbling forward over its smashed head, through the door held open by the rubble, into the entrance hall of the temple. I heard James loose the last arrow, then he was kneeling beside me, frantically searching through his pack.

 

"What are you doing," I managed to gasp.

 

He never answered. Just took out a couple of mines and ran back to the door. I was too tired to lift my head and watch. Then he was beside me again, with a broadhead out and readied. "Shield your eyes," was all he said. I heard the arrow sing. Then there was a tremendous bang, the ground shock beneath and bits of dead manticore went flying everywhere. The light from the elementals was just beginning to fill the entrance when the door slammed shut behind us. I stared at it in disbelief.

 

"I couldn't let them follow us," was all James said.

 

Everything was still now, and quiet.  My ears were ringing.  I rubbed my sore eyes.

 

I pushed myself back up on to my feet and brushed the dust from the exploding manticore from my clothes; pretty dumb, considering the mess I was already in, but it helped settle my nerves. I followed James through the vaulted opening just beyond the doors. My eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the fresh light coming from somewhere inside the room. When they finally did, I wanted to scream.

 

Daneel wasn't there! I swallowed hard, staring at the shred of cloak that lay just a few inches in front of my feet. A sense of dread washed over me, easily shifting the terror that had gripped me for so long. I knew the instant I saw the tiny scrap of fabric that something terrible had happened. Daneel...

 

James was talking to me. He might have been trying to explain something. Or maybe he was just offering comfort. I couldn't really say. His voice washed over me in much the same way as the dread. The words were nothing more than a jumble of meaningless sounds that grated painfully in my ears. I edged further into the room, stumbled over something hard and fell to my knees. I searched behind me without truly thinking. My fingers clenched around something small and brittle. I placed it between my knees.

 

I felt as though I had been staring at the odd lump for hours yet somehow I didn't even know what it was. It was hard, small and somehow twisty but I seemed incapable of forming those simple observations into a single coherent thought. I reached out and touched it. It seemed softer now. And smoother. Not that I thought much of that at the time. Then my fingers seemed to form a will of their own and they gathered up that tiny scrap of material that had once been his. It had that same softness that had enveloped me during the night when I had slept in his tower. And his smell still lingered in the tiny gaps between the weaves. I tucked it inside my belt and let out a long sigh. "Daneel..."

 

 

- James: Gathering Wits - Day 10: 10:00pm

 

Well I had survived that after all.  I didn’t know weather to thank Dan for the wonderful adventure, or sock him for getting us all almost killed.  I would probably do neither.  Jyre and I went on ahead, into the main chamber of the temple.  Just as it should have been, there was a lava pool in the center, with the gateway suspended above it.  At the side of the pool nearest the door was the platform on which you stood before summoning the gate, or jumping through it.  The gateway lead, of course, to The Maw of Chaos, the home-realm of the Trickster and his kin.  The Faery Queen needed to be there to perform the ritual.  “Jyre,” I said.  “This gateway will take us to another realm.  It’s a very strange place, so I must warn you to be extra careful when we are there.”

 

I didn’t notice if she heard or not, for I was suddenly interested in something that did not seem right about this room.  When I had first seen the stone vines that covered the walls and littered the floors, I thought that it was simply a feature of the room.  I also figured immediately that, since Dan was not here, he had gone on ahead, hoping that we would go home.  However when I noticed that his hat was on the far corner of the room, and a large bundle of the stone vines was nearby, I put two and two together and realized the grim truth of the matter.

 

 

- Nightfall: Delirium - Day 10: 10:00pm

 

Blindness, vertigo, pain.  The world swirled about me, only to be consumed in mist.  Patterns of black and red swirled about, getting darker and lighter, and then darker still. 

 

I heard voices.  Distant shallow sounds, vaguely human, yet speaking in perfect common tongue.  “We thank you for your sacrifices.  You honor us with your deeds.  Our realm you leave now, and enter the realm of magic, chaos, and evil.  We thank you, once more.”  I began to make out the silhouettes of seven robbed figures fading gently in and out of view…

 

I awoke to the sensation of the stone vines being pulled away from me, and the sound of two familiar voices.  Instinctually, I pushed against them, aiding whatever it was that was getting me free.  My vision was hazy, but I could begin to make out a few words.

 

“… he all right?”

“I’m not … most likely… seems… we shall soon…”

 

I inhaled deeply, but the dust-filled air stung my lungs.  I coughed violently, rolling onto my side, kicking the last stone vines free from my legs.  A young female voice cried out in concern.  The elderly man seemed to comfort her.  I felt dizzy.  I wasn’t even sure where I was.  It was very dark.

 

 

- Jyre: Reunited At Last - Day 10: 10:05pm

 

The world snapped back into focus when I spoke. I was kneeling just inside a room that was lit by the glowing lava that filled a square pool in the room's center. There was some sort of glowing yellow ball hanging above it in midair. I dismissed them both as unimportant, more interested in what had happened to Daneel than in this rubble-strewn room. The very nature of the lumps of rock that were scattered around the room confused me. They looked more like plants than rocks. Had someone once sculpted a garden down here? I shrugged the question away. What this place had been didn't matter anymore, not until I found Daneel, anyway. My eyes moved onwards, taking in more of the room. I spotted James, sword drawn, hacking away at a bundle of the petrified vines.  The sight gave me pause. "What are you doing?"

 

He glanced up at me, his face seeming to say “Didn't I just tell you that?” I shrugged sheepishly, realizing he probably had.  “Daneel is encased in this rock.  I’m getting him out!”

 

I saw his hair first, tinted red from the glow from the lava. I edged closer, trying to get a look at his face, hoping to find some trace of life. James glanced over at me, a grim smile on his lips, then put the sword away and began to tug on the vines.  "James, is he... is he all right?"

 

"I'm not sure. He most likely is not badly hurt. He seems to be breathing. We shall soon see how 'alright' he is."

 

The exasperation in James' voice told me how dumb that question had been. But there was reassurance in his words as well. I felt some of the tension seep from my limbs as James worked on getting the last of the vines free. Then Daneel's legs spasmed, as though he had meant to kick himself free. I must have said something because James muttered that it was all right. Then Daneel was free and all I could do was stare at him.

 

 

- Nightfall: Revival - Day 10: 10:10pm

 

Slowly my eyes came into focus, and my vision cleared up.  I found myself curled into a fetal position, lying in a heap of broken vines, only several feet from the lava pit.  I was not alone.  James and Jyre where here.  I was still too exhausted to acknowledge that I was cognitive yet.  I just lay there, resting, the first rest I’d had in so very long.

 

I could hear the fear in Jyre’s voice.  She was afraid; afraid for me.  Why had she come?  What debt did I yet owe her that she felt the need to come after me?  Or was it the other way around? That she felt she needed to repay me?  She had come to rescue me.  I could understand why James had come, but why her?  Could she be attracted to me?   I perished the thought. 

 

I felt the need to cough yet again, but stopped it.  Slowly, I pushed myself out of the ball I was in and sat up.  The stone vines beneath me cracked and crunched as I moved.  Jyre gasped. 

 

 

- Jyre: Not Belonging - Day 10: 10:10pm

 

He was lying on his side, his knees tucked up against his chest, his arms locked tightly around his knees and his head tucked forward. I had never seen him like that before. He had always been so strong and untouchable before. He was someone to look up to and respect. Someone to turn to when I needed his help. But in those few seconds during which he lay there it felt more like I was the strong one and he was nothing more than a helpless child, curled up tight to shut out the horror that was life. The tinniest of smiles pulled at the corner of my lip. I wanted nothing more right then than to pick him up and comfort him. My body refused to move. "He looks so vulnerable..." My eyes flicked to James for a second before settling back on Daneel. "So cute," I added under my breath.

 

I backed away when he started to stir, suddenly uncertain about my role here. It didn't feel right, my having seen him like that. I felt awkward and shy, almost as though we were about to meet for the first time. And perhaps we were. After all, what did I really know about him, apart from the fact that he worked as some sort of protector for the city's thieves? And then there was need for me to explain my presence here. What was I supposed to say?! That I had been scared? That I had been worried he was in danger? And then he would ask me why. He would probably just laugh at me if I told him the truth. If I even knew the truth! I found myself backed into the wall and slid down it into a sitting position.

 

I shuddered as I watched him drink the vial of healing potion, knowing just how vile those things could taste. It seemed to help though for he suddenly seemed much more alert than he had been. He offered James a smile and muttered what looked like a “thank you.” Then they both glanced over at me for second. There was no smile on Daneel's lips now. No kind of thanks offered for my help. He just looked at me, face blank, eyes seeming to say “what now?” He didn't even nod to acknowledge he had seen me. He just turned back to James and started talking.

 

 

- Nightfall: Old Friends - Day 10: 10:15pm

 

I quaffed the healing potion in one gulp.  This was no time to be stubborn about such things.  The liquid did the trick, and I could feel my strength returning quickly.  One of many undocumented features of a healing potion is that one bottle is worth about three hours of sleep, even though they also made you slightly drowsy.  “Thank you, James,” I said, mustering a smile as I nodded to him.

 

He gave a smile in return and then glanced over at Jyre, who was sitting in a dark shadow on the far side of the room.  I didn’t have the energy to deal with her at the moment.

 

“James, we must press on.”

 

“Indeed we must,” he said, “but not before I brief you further.”

 

I pushed myself up, and stood.  I stretched my cramped muscles before I responded.  “Briefed, yes, as to why you felt the need to come?”

 

“Indeed.  I fear that you lack the means to deal with this being,” he said very matter-of-factly.  “You have, just now, in fact, demonstrated that you would have been killed if not for us.”

 

I considered the statement.  He was so very right, of course.  When I set out, did I even really have a plan to fight her?  The Woodsie Lord was never assaulted directly, so there was no way of telling how powerful it was in combat.  I was sure, for some reason, that the Faery Queen was not as powerful as he, and I knew I would find some way to destroy her, but I figured the details would be made clear at the right time.  Indeed, I had been a bit rash.  James cut my contemplation short.

 

“Here,” he said as he stood, and handed me an odd-looking arrow.  “This is what will kill her.”  I examined it.  The shaft of the arrow was made from iron, rather than wood, and the broadhead was made of a material I had never seen before, at least as an arrowhead.  It looked as if it was cold-forged, which I found even more odd. 

 

“This is the weapon your spoke of before?” I said, vaguely remembering. 

 

“Yes indeed.” 

 

I turned it over in my hands again.  “Care to explain it again?  I’m afraid I was not as focused as I should have been that night.”

 

He proceeded to explain to me that it was a cold-forged arrow, made from a rock that fell from the sky.  He explained his theories about man-made magic, and his beliefs that this single arrow could kill a god, or goddess, of chaos.

 

“I see,” I said simply, “then I shall use it as you have described.”  He nodded to me.  Now I finally had a clear plan of action, one that may actually work.  I looked over at Jyre once more, and then to James.  “If we send her back, she will die.  If we tell her to wait here, she will die.  If we ask her to come along, she may die, but she may live.  I see no other choice."  James nodded in agreement.  “Truthfully, my friend, I’m beat.  Insect-beasts and stone monsters I can deal with, but young girls are the most terrible creature of all.”  We both shared a quiet laugh at the irony.  “Please talk to her.  Last time we spoke, she tried to kill me.  You have spent quite a bit of time with her, so it seems that she reacts a bit better to you than to me.”

 

James opened his mouth to speak, but then just nodded, and then walked over to her.  At the moment, I had another urgent matter to attend to:  my sword.

 

Soon I found it.  Its hilt was sticking half-way out of the lava.  Evidently, the mass of stone vines that encased it was not as lucky as the one that held me, and it fell into the lava.  The sword, being highly magical, was resistant to melting, so there it was.  I crouched by the ledge, before the pool, contemplating if I could get it back somehow.  Perhaps it was fitting.  This sword was wielded by many great heroes, heroes far greater than I could ever hope to be.  The fact that it would share the fate of another great sword, cast into a pool of lava at the core of a volcano, was somehow satisfying.  If this was indeed the end of it, then it could not have chosen a better way to go.  Unlike the other, which was destroyed, this one shall remain here for some time, years, perhaps centuries, or forever.  My only regret was that I only got to wield it once.  I hoped that I was worthy.  After that, I made a quiet detour to scoop up my tattered hat and put it back on my head where it belonged.

 

 

- Jyre: Opening Old Wounds - Day 10: 10:20pm

 

My eyes dropped to my hands, which lay open in my lap, palms up. I felt tears prick at my eyes as I tried to understand his casual dismissal. Was he really that angry with me for coming? Had my disobeying him really been so bad? I sniffed and wiped the back of one hand across my eyes. It came back wet with tears. I looked up at him once more, trying to make out what they were saying but their voices were too low. I don't know whether he sensed my gaze on him or not but he suddenly looked over at me. I caught his next words perfectly "...talk to her..."

 

Ice gripped at my heart as I realized it was happening again. Just as it had when my dad had left when I was little, or when I had wandered the streets for years afterwards, or in the Lady's guard. Just as it had always happened. I knew what he was thinking. She's just a dumb little kid. She won't understand. Just more baggage to drag around. I don't know why I had ever thought he could be different, why I had I ever been stupid enough to think he could actually care! He'd just shut me up in that tower of his because he couldn't be bothered with a dumb kid! Just like my dad. He'd never really cared about me either. Why else would he have left us that morning without a word, knowing my mum was sick? What other reason could there have been for him to walk off to work that day acting as though everything was fine and never come back? The answer was simple. He hated me. Just like everyone else hated me!

 

"Jyre?"

 

I looked up, the tinniest flicker of hope in my heart. It was only James. I sighed and stared down at my hands. I could hear him speaking to me but I never listened to the words. I didn't want James, I wanted Daneel! Daneel who was on the other side of the room, searching for something, not even acknowledging my existence. I slowly stood up and walked away from them both, kicking out at a bit of vine-turned-rock. Why had I ever been so stupid as to go chasing after him! Why hadn't I listened to Els? Els had cared. After all, he was the only one who had actually bothered to look for me, instead of just seeing the dumb kid that my appearance suggested. If I had bothered to listen to him none of us would ever have gotten into this mess, Els would still be alive and I would still have someone I could call a friend!  Now Els was the only reason I had for going on. And once I had my revenge? I sighed again and went to Daneel, not saying a word.

 

His eyes seemed to focus suddenly and he looked down at me, then behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to find James had joined us. I waited in silence, expecting him to say something to James, only it was to me he spoke.

 

"Jyre, thank you for coming for me."

 

I swallowed back the lump that formed in my throat, surprised by how tired he sounded. He had spoken softly with just a touch of sadness in his words. I wanted so much to believe what he had said, but what had believing ever got me in the past? Nothing but more pain. Still...

 

I reached out uncertainly, slid my arms around his waist and wept.

 

 

- Nightfall: Thank You - Day 10: 10:25pm

 

I broke myself from my quite moments of rest and contemplation to realize that James and Jyre were by my side.  James looked extremely solemn, and Jyre’s eyes were drying.  I felt the need to speak to her.

 

“Jyre, thank you for coming for me.”

 

She looked at her feet.  James sighed.  Suddenly she came forward and put her arms around me, clinging, pressing her face to my chest, crying.  James could not help but smile as he saw the dire peril I was in.  Thanks, James, you’re a great help.  I carefully put my arm to her back, totally at a loss for things to say to her.  Maybe I didn’t need to say anything to her. 

 

“James, to the Maw then,” I said quietly.  He nodded.  To get through the portal, one needed to stand at the platform in front of it, and leap over the lava, into the heart of the swirling rift.  It is fabled that if you did not believe in the portal, you would plunge to your death.  It’s a good thing I believed, but did Jyre?  I knew what I must do.

 

I spoke to Jyre.  “Jyre, we need to go through that portal.  It’s very dangerous, so I’m going to carry you through, to make sure you make it okay.  All right?”

 

She looked at me with her soft eyes, which were red, perhaps from the dust, perhaps from her tears.  She nodded slowly.  I looked to James. 

 

“You can make the jump just fine, I hope.”

 

“I should hope so.  I’m not that out of shape!”

 

I shot him a quick smile and then gently lifted Jyre off her feet.  She clung to me tightly.  My magic armor was still working, so it adjusted itself to grant me more strength to lighten the load.

 

“I’ll go in first, of course.  Be sure to follow close behind, James.”

 

“Indeed!” he said.

 

I turned towards the portal.  It hovered above the pool, swirling peacefully and steadily.  Streaks of yellow and orange swam about the reddish tempest.  I leapt in.

 


Chapter 21 - Holy War

 

- Lytha: Thank You, Father Inquisitor - Day 10: 10:25pm

 

"If you want to go, go now."

 

The clear voice of Thalia (or my own, I was still not sure) interrupted my short nap.

 

I looked up. The place seemed to be empty now. I had no idea how long I had been sitting on the wall, but it was now well after dark. "Probably they are gone for dinner," I muttered, and decided that I should enter the building now.  I knew it had a small torture chamber in the basement - probably for training purposes or for a quick torture between the dinners, or whatever. I slid down to the place between the buildings of the cloister, and headed to the living complex. Entering was easy, because there were no Hammerites around to see me. I took the stairs down to the basement, and reassured myself that the hood of the cloak hid my face.

 

The basement was not very well lit. I knew that the torture rooms were in the north, so I followed the hallway to the right.  At the end of the corridor, I could see a Hammerite guard. He stared off into nowhere, bored and obviously not liking his current assignment. I waited, and felt nervous and angry because he blocked my way. As I stood there and tried to find a possible way to sneak past him, the opportunity came.  A loud cry rose from behind the door he guarded, and he turned to the door to listen.  I drew my dagger, and hurried to his back.  Luckily, the neck-guard of the Hammerites’ uniform didn’t protect between the shoulder blades. He died quietly.

 

I took the key from his belt, and unlocked the door. A small and tidy office lay behind the door. Through an open heavy metal door in the opposite wall, I could see another room, obviously the torture chamber. It had the classic look with many torture instruments, and was lit by torches. This was really not going to be fun. The fear and the pain from the last week, when I was in the hands of the Hammerites, struck me. I tried to calm myself.

 

I closed the exit and locked it. I was really lucky today – no one had seen me enter the office. I snuck to the open door in the opposite wall, carefully using the wall as cover. I heard voices again, but this time not inside my head. A dialogue began behind the metal door.

 

"Now, Eustas, I would really recommend you to cooperate. There is no need to force us to use more violence." I shuddered. That was his voice. The Inquisitor. And that was the way he tried to convince his victims to give their confessions.

 

"No? You won't, Eustas Myr?" A short break, and then another loud cry.

 

"Well, you see, my sons, that the first strategy is not working in this case. Personally, I would not recommend the use of brutal force in every case, but if the subject refuses to cooperate at this stage, it seems to be the most effective way. Continue, novice."

 

I heard some odd sounds – another loud cry.

 

I felt sick, and the headache started again. Shaking, I tried to clear my thoughts and to keep from vomiting.

 

"Any questions about this strategy, novices?"

 

"Yes. Why do you combine the two strategies of violence and rationalism, as we call it, together at this stage of the interrogation?"

 

"Good point –" The Inquisitor continued his lecture.

 

I refused to listen any longer. I decided to try the strategy of distraction and the strategy of sudden appearance now. I shot a water arrow at one of the torches in the torture room.

 

"What was that? Hmm, can you please re-light that torch, my son?" The Inquisitor said to a guard.

 

As I had hoped, or expected, the guard stepped towards the office. I hugged the wall behind the door, and hoped that he not would see me there when he entered the room. I readied my bow. He did not see me, headed towards the table, and fell to the ground with an arrow in the neck. The arrow seemed to have hit his larynx, because he could only make some silent gurgling sounds in his last seconds, until I hurried to him and hit the dagger into his chest. I dragged the corpse below the desk, and went back to the place behind the door.

 

The lecture went on, until one of the novices (there seemed to be two of them) decided to inspect where the guard had gone.

 

As soon as he entered the office, he saw the blood on the floor where I had killed the guard. He opened his mouth, and gasped for breath to cry for help, as I shot another arrow at him. This time, I was not so lucky. He fell to the ground, but cried aloud: "Heeeeeeeeelp!" He started to crawl to the door that I had luckily locked. I stared at him, and was too shocked to see him almost alive to do something. As he had reached it, he saw the corpse of the guard below the desk, and cried another time: "Heelp! Murder! Assassin!" He tried to open the door, found it locked, and started to beat his fists against it.

 

I decided that it was time now for a fast change of the strategies, and ran straight into the torture chamber. The two Hammerites were too surprised to do anything, especially the second novice, who stared with his mouth open at me, frozen in shock, same as the subject of the interrogation. The Inquisitor's reaction time was amazingly short, and he readied one of the Hammerite spells. I was faster, and shot a badly aimed arrow at him. It stuck in his leg. He wheezed and tried to ready the next spell.  I hit him again. He tried to ignore the arrow in his shoulder. The next arrow hit him in his vital point. I had never hesitated to fight unfair, and especially not if I was in a hurry. He fell to his knees, and fought for breath. I aimed the next arrow at him.

 

The Inquisitor stared at me, and I could smell his fear. He did not dare to move. The novice stood still there, mouth open. The tortured man, Eustas, was on his knees, hands tied behind his back. The other novice was silent now and was motionless on the floor, he had lost an incredible amount of blood through the wound that the arrow had caused. My hood fell to my back. The Inquisitor stared at me, and I saw that he recognized me. I shot. The arrow stabbed his right eye and stuck in his head. He fell to the ground, twitched a few times, and then did not move any more.

 

I drew my dagger, and hurried to him. I wanted to be sure that he was really dead, and so I stabbed the dagger into his chest.

 

By now, the novice came back to reality. He ran towards the office; and died with the dagger in his back, thrown by my hand.

 

Now that every Hammerite in here seemed to be dead, I realized what I had done. I looked down at the Inquisitor's corpse, and saw that I had probably hit his chest and neck more than 10 times with the dagger, until the novice had tried to run away. I felt sick as I saw the mess on the floor: Blood everywhere, and one of them had wet his trousers as he died. The smell was more than disgusting. I got sick beneath the corpse of the Inquisitor.

 

"Okay. Okay. Calm down. Dammit. Calm down." I said to myself trying to stop shaking. "What now. Oh, yes, of course."

 

Eustas stared nervously at me as I spoke to myself, and even more as I rose to my feet and went into the office, ignoring him completely.

 

I went to the shelf, and had a look at the books there. Of course, the Inquisitor had his log books here. His notes about his interrogations. They were well sorted by the time of the interrogations, it seemed. Good that he seemed to have been a compulsive, orderly man. I found his notes about me in the most recent book, and put that book into my pocket. Then I took the matches, but before I continued, I remembered the tortured man. Eustas, they had called him. Or similar. No need to burn him, too.

 

I went back to the torture chamber, to the man. I looked in his eyes.

 

"Do you want to get out off here?" I asked.

 

He stared nervously at my face, and nodded.

 

"Okay. One moment. Why are you here?" I asked. I had no interest in releasing anyone who might act counterproductive in any way, and maybe run to tell the Hammers I was here.

 

"They called me a thief's pawn. I had done some business with some thieves." He said.

 

"With who?" I hesitated. He did not say a word, but suddenly I heard a name, maybe, no, most probably the odd voice of Thalia had said it inside of my head. "What? With Nightfall? Oh. Okay." I unchained him. His eyes seemed to drop out of his head. He stared motionless at me, mouth open. He did not even dare to raise from his knees.

 

"I... I did not say –" he started.

 

"Oh, shut up. You know how to get out off here? Wait, I will unlock the door. Now hurry out. I would recommend that you take the backdoor. However. No, wait. Here's a dagger. Take it. Now hurry away."

 

So he did. And though he was obviously not in condition to run very quickly, he sped away .

 

I sighed, and tried to ignore the bad headaches. I dragged the corpses to the shelf with the notes, threw the paper sheets on the corpses, and lit a match.

 

"Goodbye, Brother Inquisitor. Burn in hell," I said, and set the papers on fire.

 

 

- Ghost: Phantom of the Temple - Day 10: 10:30pm

 

I could see the front doors from the roof where I had hidden my gear.  Guards were standing at their posts and patrols were walking around outside.  I couldn’t believe how well lit this place was. The Hammerites had put in spotlights aimed at the building to show it off; as if the sheer size of the thing didn't make it stand out enough already. "Not much to see from up here." I decided I had to get a closer look at the place.  I couldn't see the whole building from where I was.

 

By the time I made it to the ground it was dark enough to make the temple look truly eerie.  After circling the place and staying out of the guards sight, I decided that the best way in was by the second floor balcony. The only problem was that the guards went by there frequently.

 

The area under the balcony was a wide open space, with a short tree or two around, and a low string of bushes which ran all the way around the place.  The guard patrol was wearing a path through their neatly cut lawn.  When the guards walked past for the fifth time, I broke out in a full run to the bushes under the balcony. I dove behind them just as the next pair of guards came into view around the corner.  I could hear them grumbling as they got closer, but could only make out a small piece of the conversation as they passed.  Their accents were loose, so I could tell they must be new recruits.

 

“I don’t know why we must walk this path whilst our brothers all sit inside at the ceremony.”

 

“’Tis all political. The others have been around longer, and besides, do you really want to listen to another three hour speech by Brother Alphonse about that Cragscleft incident?  Take it as a compliment that they do not feel that we need to be lectured on proper security.”

 

“I see thy point, but I don’t know why they couldn’t make the novices walk…”

 

“Hmm some kind of ceremony. Must be dedicated to me if it’s about the Cragscleft thing.”  This was better than I had hoped. Most of the Hammerites would be locked up listening to some guy go on and on for a couple hours. Now all I had to do is get in and I could set up a surprise for the whole group of them. Another pair of guards rounded the corner as I sat behind the bushes trying to decide the best way to not get caught.

 

I launched a rope arrow into the beam above the balcony.  It stuck with a resounding thud. I hurriedly climbed up just as the guards came pacing around the corner once again. Luckily for me they weren’t paying much attention.  Or they just never looked up, and missed the heavy lump being pulled through the air.

 

The window was locked with no way to pick it from outside.  Locked or not a window isn’t a match for a glass-cutter. I made a small hole, unlocked it and slipped in before I could be seen. The room I entered was a bedroom.  It looked like it may have been for high-ranking guests, because there weren’t any valuables or personal items here. The door led out into a narrow hallway lined with other doors. The only sound around was the dull humming of the lights, which was disconcerting in a temple this big.

 

I turned to the left and looked down the hall.  It led to a wide balcony, overlooking a wide open area with a few walls that blocked off other areas. After noting the guards at the two doors I stepped out of view to work on a plan. “Time to work,” I muttered as I grabbed my bow and two gas arrows. There was nothing like a weapon that can put people down even if you miss. Peeking around the wall I checked for range, and launched the arrow at the guard farthest from me.  I then quickly loaded and launched the second before his friend could figure out what was going on.   Once both guards were down, I stuck a rope arrow into an overhead beam and slid down to the main floor.

 

This ceremony, lecture, or whatever the guards were talking about must have started already.  There were no Hammers wandering freely inside. These two door-guards must have had thought themselves rather lucky to not have to listen to some guy preaching to them. I moved quickly to the door leading outside, and unwrapped a rope arrow.  I tied the rope around the two door latches so they wouldn’t be able to open that door quickly. I took off one of my packs, and begin to place an assortment of gas and explosive mines across the floor.  I left a small path leading back to my entrance point. I didn’t know how many mines I took from Quenton’s supplier, but it was quite a few. I would have to be sure to thank him later if I made it out of this alive.

 

I slowly cracked open one of the doors leading to the congregation chamber.  I heard someone talking in an echoing room filled with Hammerites. The size of the assembled crowd was impressive, almost scary, and they were all sitting, listening intently to the speaker. It was hard to believe that there could be this many gullible suckers gathered in one place at one time to listen to some blowhard preach about the rights and wrongs of nature and how they must build to improve themselves.

 

“…and for our fallen brethren we must hunt down the heathens responsible for their deaths. We knowest from our prisoner logs that one escaped and aided in the massacre. She is known as Lytha, and is to be apprehended shouldst we find her. The man who hath helped her, from what little we could gather is known by the name of Ghost. We only know of him because he hath left this dagger stuck in the burning body of your brother, Maxim, may his soul reside in peace.”

 

He held up one of my daggers for the large crowd to see. I was impressed that it and Brother Maxim were left after being thrown in the fire. He continued. It was at this time that I noticed something.  I remembered all the odd stares I had received in Cragscleft. The guards behind the speaker were wearing uniforms like the one I had stolen. It was a ceremonial uniform! No wonder people looked at me like I had a dead cat on my head.

 

“Shouldst this ‘Ghost’ be caught, he shalt be publicly destroyed, to show that no one can do this to us in our own sanctuaries. If any of thee shouldst know where he may be –“  I hated to interrupt such a stirring speech, but it was a moment I couldn’t pass up.

 

I’m right here!” I shouted as a fire arrow leapt from my bow and exploded directly on the speaker’s chest, knocking him down behind his podium. I didn’t know if he was dead but I did know that if I didn’t move, I would be. I turned to run for the rope and as I heard the stampede behind me. I flipped a couple flash bombs over my shoulder and ran for my life!

 

While I climbed the rope as fast as I possibly could I heard the screams of the blinded Hammerites being pushed into the trapped room by their overzealous brothers. The sound of the exploding mines and screaming Hammers was deafening, and made climbing the rope almost impossible. I reached the top and fell over the railing to witness the carnage below. Men knocked unconscious by gas mines flopped onto exploding mines, sending them flying into yet more mines. It was just what they deserved for threatening me like that!

 

 

- Lytha: Chaotic Contributions - Day 10: 11:30pm

 

As I left the office of the Inquisitor, I heard some really loud noises from above. They were explosions, probably of mines and of fire arrows. I frowned, and decided to inspect the source of the noise. Well, it was more like: I knew that I would not be able to leave the temple as quietly as I had entered it, what with alerted Hammers all over the place.

 

Hammer buildings are normally very well lit, so I decided to try to get to the power controls first.  Once there, I could fill this place with a nice thick darkness.

 

Luckily, the main power controls of the temple were in the basement, which is where I was. I had a look at my mental map of the building, and headed to the east. The door to the room with the power controls was not locked, and it had an emergency ax beneath the power controls, as if they needed it relatively often. Electricity in new buildings seemed to be still a problem for the Hammerites.

 

I reached for the master switch, to flip it to the Off position, but stopped cold as I read the sign clearly placed above it.  “High Voltage, attempt to operate while grounded may result in serious injury or death.”  Well, I had no idea what “grounded” meant, so I decided that I’d rather not take the chance.  I had another solution.

 

I took the ax and smashed it on the box with the power controls. That was not very elegant or discreet, but it disabled not only the alarm that had been activated directly after the explosions, but also it had an effect on the electric lights of the temple. They now permanently went on and off.  It wasn’t as good as I had hoped, but it was better then nothing.

 

I heard someone rushing this way, so I decided to make haste in my exit.  The box was probably too deformed to be repaired within the next few hours. That was long enough for me to escape.

 

With the smell of the burning corpses from the Inquisitor's office in my nose and the flickering light in my eyes, I quickly rushed towards the source of the commotion.  Sure, the smart thing would have been to get out of the place then and there, but something in my head ordered me to investigate. 

 

 

- Ghost: Into the Fray - Day 10: 11:40pm

 

The explosions started to die down as more bodies piled up. I had to move quickly since they would be able to make it to the stairs shortly.  One smart fellow was climbing my rope to get to me. I grinned as I leaned over the balcony.  He looked up at me in time to see my dagger slice the rope, sending him crashing back to the floor. As I turned I saw the lights begin to flicker off and on.  I didn’t know why, but it got a bit darker and that was more of a bonus for me.

 

I ran back down the hallway from which I made my entrance.  I noticed the stairway leading down at about the mid-section of the hall. I also noticed the group of guards running up towards me.  I decided to turn around and run back for the balcony. I thought about jumping off to elude the pursuers, but that would probably be a bad idea.  I grabbed a couple daggers and spun to face them.  Thankfully, the hall wasn’t wide enough to allow them all to gang up on me.  The first one in line charged me with a wild swing.  He came up short, and managed to knock a door off its hinges instead.  I stumbled back to the railing as he again ran at me, swinging that big hammer. I ducked and jammed my knives into his gut. He finished his swing that took a chunk out of the stone railing.  He fell over me, my head against his chest.  I pushed him up and over, throwing him over the ledge.  He landed on a group of his comrades, knocking them unconscious.

 

The others wasted no time in coming at me. Thinking fast, I tossed a flash bomb at their feet.  Then I looked down over the railing for a good landing spot. I jumped from the rail onto a pile of bodies with a sickening thud. I rolled onto the floor.  Suddenly I was struck by a funny thought.  I always seemed to have my falls broken by dead bodies.  I could hear the guards cursing at me and running back down the hallway, with more men coming from the left, right, behind, and straight ahead.  I spotted my bow lying on the floor and put another rope arrow into the beam by the balcony. Maybe I could wear them out making them running up and down the steps. I climbed up to the balcony just as large group of them entered the room.  I heard them curse my family as I ran back down the hall to the room through which I had entered.

 

Closing the door behind me I caught my breath and pushed my back to the door, hoping that it would stop them from getting in. I was dripping with sweat, and blood from the bodies.  I was surprised they couldn’t smell me all the way downstairs. I could hear them opening all the doors to check the rooms.  They were getting close to this one. Thinking better of my position, I moved directly to the side of the door, my back pressed up against the wall.

 

I heard the latch turn and the door slowly open.  Through the crack I could see one of them peeking in. I took the opportunity to test the strength of the door by kicking it as hard as I could, sending the man flying back into the hallway into the others. I jumped to the other side of the door as it burst open. At the first sight of a body I spun around and drove both daggers deep into his chest, pushing him back outside. The last of the guards caught me with his fist as I leaned out into the hall, which sent me to the floor in the bedroom.

 

“Now I have thee, infidel!” That was all I could make out as he approached me, hammer raised ready to strike…

 

 

- Lytha: An Unexpected Meeting - Day 10: 11:50pm

 

I hurried to the source of the noises. It was in the south of the temple, and a good distance from here. I reached it without running into anyone. I think I was very lucky, again, because I could hear alerted Hammerites everywhere – only not in my way. The flickering lights added a terrifying atmosphere, and especially for the novices, who sounded as if they were in a panic.

 

Up ahead, I saw a collection of dead bodies.  I ran to the opened door they were in front of, and saw two men.  One was hunched, and I saw horror in his face. His eyes were closed.   It was no wonder, since a guard stood right in front of him with a raised hammer in hand, ready to smash him. The Hammerite had his back turned at me.

 

I readied my blackjack, and ran to the guard.  I reached him very quickly, and struck his head. He grunted quietly and collapsed to the floor. At this time, I realized that he had not reacted, because he had not enough time for that. The entire scene had happened in less than a few seconds.

 

I looked to the man. He wore a well known gray cloak. I frowned. Ghost? Here? Why?

 

 

- Ghost: Bonded by Fate? - Day 10: 11:55pm

 

I heard the thud of something heavy hitting flesh. Then a body hit the floor. I realized I was still breathing.  Peeking open one eye, then the other, I saw a cloaked figure, blackjack in hand, standing over the body of the guard who was about to pound me. Something familiar about the look of my savior intrigued me. “Hey! Wait a second… Those are… My clothes! Lytha?” My confusion must have registered with her. She removed the hood of the cloak to show her face. It was Lytha! I jumped to my feet, a thousand things to say to her running through my head.   “What the hell are you doing here?” That was the one that made it out first. She looked shocked at my anger and started to say something.

 

“I was –”

 

“Do you realize how much money you cost me if something had happened to you?”

 

“But I –”

 

“Why didn’t you leave me a note or something?”

 

“I di –”

 

“Why are you wearing my clothes?”

 

“I had to –”

 

“You know you could have been killed here?”

 

“Yes but I –“

 

“There are Hammers all over, are you crazy?”

 

“I didn’t –”

 

“And for the last time what are you doing here?” I was finally out of good questions.

 

Now she was the one who looked confused as she tried to figure out which question was the easiest to answer. She shrugged instead of answering any questions and just stared at me.

 

“Okay fine, as long as you’re here, stay with me so at least I can keep you alive long enough to get you to Nightfall and get my money.”  I sat down on the bed to collect myself and figure out what we were going to do now. I had blown up a good portion of the Hammers assembled here, but there were still more running around. Somehow I didn’t think that just killing off a few Hammerites would fix anything for the world, but killing the high priest of the Order would!

 

“I have an idea! It’s most likely a stupid idea and may get us killed, but I like it!” Lytha looked concerned for my enthusiasm over something likely to make us dead, but she had to ask.

 

“What is this idea?”

 

“We’re gonna go kill the High Priest. Unless he already ran for the door or if that was him who took the fire arrow when I started. We’ll have to go into the meeting room and check. I’m sure the priest would have something on him to show who he was.”

 

“Let’s go then.” Something about how easily she accepted my plan scared me, but it was too late to change it now. After resting for another minute I stood up and we started out to search the temple for the big man himself.

 

As we left the bedroom, I threw a flaming piece of cloth on the bed.  “Let’s not leave them any place to hide.” I had to laugh. This was the kind of thing I had always wanted to do, but never thought I could or would do. For as long as I could remember the Hammers were here in town, dragging people off to prison and running the city the way they thought it should be run. Now I was finally avenging anyone who had been wrongly accused of something and been hurt or killed by these bastards for it. I had no love for criminals of my breed, who really deserved to die, but I have a real problem with innocent people getting hurt. Criminal for the people! Freedom Fighter!  That was me! I chuckled to myself as we walked down the stairs and turned to go to the meeting room.

 

Lytha and I approached the scene of the massacre.  The lights were flickering, and the smoke was beginning to coat the ceiling.  It looked like something out of a nightmare.  The shouts and moans of injured men mixed with our echoing footsteps on the marble floor. As we approached the scene of the minefield massacre Lytha gasped at the sight.

 

“Oh my, what happened here?” She asked, walking a little closer to me as we neared the door.

 

“They were so predictable. They all ran out to their deaths.”

 

I peered into the main room where the lecture had been happening to see a few men still around. Most were near the podium, checking on the speaker who was crisped a little bit. Handing Lytha a gas arrow, I crept into the room and ducked behind a pew.

 

“When I start to run hit the group with that arrow!” I whisper to her. Crawling to the middle of the isle, I made my move. I ran toward the front of the room, screaming like a madman as I went. When the four men who were kneeling behind the podium stood, I remembered what I had said about this plan killing us, and decided I was right. Hooray for me, I’m a genius! They started to move around the furniture as the arrow caught the corner of the podium and exploded into a fine green mist. A Hammer or two fell to the knockout gas and several staggered backward. I ran as hard as I could to the front. The room was much bigger than it looked from the door, so I had time to contemplate my plan a bit further. As I ran, more arrows bit into the guards and they ducked for cover wherever they could find it. The podium looked good and heavy and with a couple guards behind it.  It made a tempting target. I cut the corner and then jumped from the back of one of the pews, quickly putting my shoulder onto the top of the podium, pushing hard.  It tipped over onto the fallen priest and a guard hiding behind it!

 

I could hear bones crunching, and from the pain in my shoulder I thought they were mine. I rolled when I hit the floor and drew more of my daggers. I could still see Lytha near the entrance to the room shooting arrows at anyone who tried to stand up.  Several Hammers had been killed when they tried to run at her or to better hiding places. Scanning the room I didn’t see anyone moving, with the exception of the man pinned under the podium who was trying to push it off. With my foot on top of the podium to keep him from moving it, I leaned down to ask him a simple question.

 

“Is that guy there the High Priest?” Leaning a bit more on the podium, I pointed to the dead Hammer in fancy clothes. 

 

“No, no…” He shook his head, a pleading look in his eyes.

 

“Well where would he be, if he was still stupid enough to be here?”

 

“I... I know not. Please help...”

 

“How pathetic. Oh well.” I stepped on the podium on my way out and met Lytha at the door.

 

“No luck, it wasn’t him. Lets keep looking.” Lytha nodded in agreement and we wandered back through the body-filled main room.

 


Chapter 22 - The Past Returns

 

- Nightfall: Grim Proceedings - Day 10: 10:30pm

 

I found myself standing in a green meadow.  Lush grass and wildflowers grew underfoot, and all around.  Hills gently rolled off into the distance as far as the eye could see, covered by trees of every type, and every color.  Birds flew through the blue sky.  The only sounds were those of the wind blowing through the trees and the grass, and the gentle hum of insects.  Jyre, still in my arms, opened her eyes.  She seemed as stunned as me.  With a nudge, I released her, and she jumped to her feet, which sank into the thick grass.  Moments latter, James materialized beside me.  I could almost hear his jaw drop.  Jyre walked several feet, not saying a word, just looking about in amazement.  I doubted that they had ever seen anything like this, since they had both lived in the city all their lives, as far as I knew.  Yes, this place, this open fertile landscape, was something slightly alien to this realm.

 

At last, James spoke.  “As nice as this is, this is not what I was expecting. True I have never seen the Maw of Chaos before, but the descriptions I have read are nothing like this.”

 

I, however, understood.  This place was highly magical, ever more so than my home, and I could feel it surrounding me, permeating my body, being sucked in, welling through me.  It was almost overwhelming, and quite thrilling.  “No,” I said, “This is just an illusion.”

 

I refocused my eyes, and could see the source of the illusion.  I approached, and placed my hand into the midst of the field.  An arc of energy jolted harmlessly about my arm, disrupting the magic device. The illusion vanished. 

 

I heard Jyre give a small shriek as the beautiful landscape around her suddenly tore itself apart, and was replaced with a blood-soaked rock chamber, the Trickster’s ceremonial chamber.    It was in this same room that the Trickster had, not even a year ago, attempted to complete his Dark Project, but was slain by the thief Garrett, and the tool provided by his Hammerite allies. 

 

I heard James hum thoughtfully.  “This is not the entrance to the Maw, this is the deepest point.  Why did we come here?”  He then answered his own question.  “Of course, since we came through the portal the Queen used, she of course made the portal go directly to her destination.  But, where is she?”

 

I heard Jyre shriek again.  What nasty relic did she discover now?  To my surprise, she was staring right at me!  “Jyre, what’s wrong?” I said, trying to make my voice as calm as possible.

 

“Y… your… Your eyes…”

 

“My eyes?”

 

James clarified, albeit slowly.  “Oh my word, Dan, she’s right.  Your eyes are giving off light!”

 

“Wow, they haven’t done that in years,” I said, trying to ease their tension.  It really was a natural side-effect of having a massive amount of mana stored in your body.  Really nothing to be shocked about, that is, unless you’re about to fight someone with glowing eyes, and then you had better watch out.  I then realized that Jyre had most likely never seen such a phenomenon, so I clarified.  “I used to be a mage.”

 

I could tell that Jyre was quite overwhelmed.  It really was a massive amount for her to take in all at once.  I didn’t blame her for being speechless.  I hoped that James would offer a word of comfort, but those words never came.  Instead, other words came, words I would much rather have not heard.

 

 

- Jyre: Anger Builds - Day 10: 10:35pm

 

I hated it when people spoke to me like that! Just because I was a kid didn't mean I was stupid! But still, if that's how he wanted it...

 

I wasn't impressed by the meadow, or the fact that it was an illusion. I had, after all, spent six months living in a land of tiny villages scattered throughout countryside that was just as lush as this.  I had spent a lot of that time in the company of telekinetics who often created illusions, although not as grand as this one, to hone their skills. I knew how he'd want me to act though. So I gave him just what he wanted. Playing the ignorant little girl had become second nature to me since my mum's death, years earlier. He accepted it, of course, saw exactly what he'd asked to see. The only genuine surprise I felt was when I saw his eyes, glowing now with their own tiny flames. "I used to be a mage," was all he said, as if that should have explained everything. But no mage I had ever met had had eyes that glowed like that! The fact that I had only actually ever met three didn't matter much, not when one of them had the potential to be the most powerful battle-mage ever to live! I didn't say anything though. It was obvious he had no desire to speak to me. So I just watched as he went to examine something James had found.

 

As they talked, I examined my surroundings. I wasn't particularly interested in them, to be honest. I was more interested in finding a way out. Daneel didn't want me here. He'd made that more than obvious. So I was going to do him a favor. I was going to leave. All I needed was a way out of here that didn't involve walking right past him. Thankfully it was easy enough to find, and it was small enough to stop him following me out of some misplaced sense of duty. He was only keeping me with him because he felt he “owed” me for coming.  As soon as he realized I was off his hands he'd be a lot happier. I hesitated once, just in case he should change his mind and invite me over. But neither he nor James even glanced in my direction. I ducked to avoid the low ceiling of the narrow tunnel and started walking.

 

 

- Nightfall: Misconceptions Realized - Day 10: 10:36pm

 

“Dan, this is quite unexpected, come look.”

 

I turned around to see where James was, and found him crouched by the central pedestal in the ceremonial circle.  He was by some skeletal remains.  I approached.  “What did you find?”

 

“This is the remains of a Satyr, but not just any Satyr, look at the skull.”  He pointed to the large skull, with a few shreds of mostly rotted skin still clinging to it.  My eyes lit up, literally, with shock as I recognized what I was looking at.  The skull has a third eye socket, in the middle of its forehead.  This was the remains of the Trickster.

 

“How can the Faery Queen do a ritual sacrifice of the Trickster’s corpse if the Trickster’s corpse is still laying where it fell, and she has obviously already been through here!”  I said, half to James, and mostly to myself.

 

“Perhaps they planned to fetch it when the time was right?” he said, not buying his own explanation.

 

“Or perhaps we were all wrong about what she’s planning to do here.”  I paused for a moment, totally puzzled.  James broke my silence.

 

“When Garrett replaced The Eye, the Trickster’s artifact of power, with the mechanical eye built by the Hammerites, was the mechanical eye ever salvaged, or was it left?”

 

“I always figured that it was destroyed,” I said, almost sure at what he was getting at, but not totally.

 

“I do not think it was destroyed, nor was it taken back.”  I nodded in agreement.  “So why, I wonder, is it not on that pedestal where it should be?”  I looked up at the central pedestal in the chamber, where the Trickster had made his final incantation, and sure enough, The Eye was not there.

 

I played the devils advocate.  “Hundreds of things could have happened to it.  Why should we believe that the Queen made this her starting point so that she could claim it? “

 

“Because it is the only logical explanation I can think of at this time.”

 

“So the Queen wants The Eye.  Does she know that it is a fake eye?”

 

“She is no fool.”

 

“What would she want to do with it?”

 

“The real Eye was an artifact of pure and utter chaos.  This mechanical eye was forged by human hands, and is thus a result of technology.  It is technology in the guise of chaos.  It is a lie.  In essence, it is chaotic technology.”

 

“That’s a bit of a stretch,” I said, again playing the devil’s advocate.

 

“Again, it’s all I can think up right now.  I wish I had my entire archives with me and a good week to research it, but alas, my mind and several seconds will have to do.”

 

“But does this change our plans?”

 

“Not really, but now we have no means of predicting anything.”

 

“Indeed,” I said grimly.

 

“Where’s Jyre?”

 

 

- James: Search - Day 10: 10:40pm

 

It was stupid.  We should have known better.  It broke every rule in the book.  Maybe I was shaken because one of my quill pens had turned into a rather cute little lizard during the passage through the gate, and it had escaped.  But Daneel and I saw two passages out of the ceremony room.  Jyre left no footprints.   And we agreed to split up. 

 

Straining my senses, I moved down the tunnel, seeking for any sign of Jyre’s passage and occasionally making scrape marks in the moss to mark my own path.  Slowly, I became aware of talking in the distance, and began to track towards it. 

 

 

- Jyre: An Old Friend - Day 10: 10:40pm

 

I was on my hands and knees now, crawling across the sandy ground. I had just rounded a small bend when the stone around me began to flicker. Ripples of flame seemed to wash through it, casting the tunnel in an eerie orange glow. I backed away hurriedly, expecting my hands and knees to blister and burn. It took me a few seconds to realize that there had been no change in the temperature of the air around me. I touched the glowing stone apprehensively, my muscles tensed and ready to pull back before the heat could do any real damage. The stone was just as cool as it had been before. I carried on, now aware of the stone's crushing weight bearing downwards, making the air around me thick and heavy. The tunnel's end was in sight, a bright orange glow which dimmed that of the walls' into insignificance. I squeezed through the last few yards and wriggled out onto a small ledge. The ground dropped away just inches from where I sat, giving way to a deep trench filled with bubbling lava. Sweat blossomed on my skin from the rising heat. I edged my way along the ledge, past another opening, hoping that the ledge would lead me towards my eventual goal: The Lady. I was disappointed. The ledge ended abruptly, with a few broken stones sticking out over the lava indicating that it had once continued further. I cursed openly. My only choices now were to double back and hope I didn't run into Nightfall and James again or take that other passage and risk getting seriously lost.

 

I stared down at the lava as I tossed the choices about in my head. Had I done the right thing, leaving Daneel? Had I truly understood him properly? I had been having doubts for a while now, not that I had dared to acknowledge them. I was too much of a coward to admit that I could have been wrong. Only now I was being forced to rethink. And what I thought left me scared and a little intrigued. Could it be possible that he was like me? That he found talking to people just as much of a struggle as I did? I felt a twinge of guilt as I realized just how badly I may have misjudged him. Running away had been stupid! I needed to get back to him. If he wasn't going to talk to me then I was just going to have to talk to him!

 

I was about to turn back when I felt the fine point of a blade prick the back of my neck. I froze.

 

 

- Nightfall: Bad Karma - Day 10: 11:00pm

 

This was insane!

 

She was more childish than I had previously imaged.  On the verge of the final confrontation she goes and does this.  It was enough to make one want to melt solid stone.

 

There were two ways out, both newly constructed.  The original entrance to this room had been recently blocked off by rocks, which fell too perfectly to have been caused naturally.  James went left, I went right.  I could sense her presence in that direction.  I could also sense something definitely not her in the other direction.

 

The labyrinth had given me a small taste of my former magical abilities, but this place gave it all back, and even more.  When I fully realized this, I stopped, closed my eyes, and began to explore this place with my mind.  She was not far off at all.  Returning to my body, I took the path which would allow me to intercept her.  I had to make haste, for another group of individuals were making their way towards her, and they reeked of bad karma.

 

 

- James: Viktoria, I Presume - Day 10: 11:00pm

 

I found the source of the sound: a huge, oval-shaped room, covered in vines.  I crept up slowly, concealing myself on a small outcropping of rock near the ceiling, at one end of the oval.  It was a perfect place to hide and observe.  Almost too perfect.  In the very center of the room was an oval shaped pool of lava.  At the far end, a gigantic ceremonial star had been prepared, on, of all things, a metal floor.  Strange demihuman guards patrolled the outer edges of the star.  Towards the center was a knot of people.  Some were guards, two were bound and lying on the floor.  And one was the Faery Queen, formerly known as Viktoria, still in her human form. 

 

Stretched across the far wall was a portal, but it did not match the description of that which Garrett had disabled. His had been elementally powered.  This one did not seem powered by elemental forces – or in any event, different ones.  One corner steamed.  Another corner had a smooth, polished metal ball.  The third flashed with sparks, and the fourth simply flashed a strange series of glyphs and letters from various languages.

 

What was she up to?  I found a place to observe behind some vine-covered rocks, my mind freewheeling through the data I had read on her, in the past weeks. Finally, the answer began to come to me.  It wasn’t pleasant thinking, and it left me with no better idea of what we might have to do.

 

 

- Jyre: Ranson - Day 10: 11:10pm

 

"Long time no see, my little sweet." The sound of his voice sent shivers down my spine; Ranson. I started to turn but he stopped me by digging the point of his blade deeper. "Not so fast, huh, sweatie. Just you slip your hands behind you so Ranson can make 'em nice and secure now."

 

I stared into the lava below. For a second I even considered jumping. Then I slowly moved my arms behind me. I wasn't ready to give up fighting yet. Ranson would take me to her. That I didn't doubt. And once there I might still get a chance to hurt her in some small way. But even if I didn't, there was nothing she could do to make me hurt more than I already did. The blade stayed at my neck as Ranson deftly bound my wrists with his free hand. Then he spun me about and pushed his lips against mine. I did nothing, just waited for him to finish. At last he moved away, grinning. I studied his face. There were wrinkles on his forehead now, and a touch of white in his hair. He still held himself in that same arrogant manor he always had though. His appearance gave the impression of someone well into their middle years, surprising for someone who was only nineteen.

 

"Walk with me, sweet one," he said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. The edge of his knife now lay against the flesh of my throat. He led me towards the opening I had passed earlier. "I've missed you, you know. I was angry at first, when you chose him over me. But I got over that." We turned into the opening. "To tell you the truth I never expected to see your precious little face again. He stopped and turned to look me up and down.

 

"Same old Jyre," he said at last. "You ain't changed a bit." He laughed. Mad anger grew in his eyes. "So why'd you go with him, Jyre. Why'd you pick that filthy traitor over me?!" His hand was trembling. I could feel blood on my skin. "Answer me!"

 

"I... He never gave me a choice!" The answer came out before I had a chance to think. It was true enough, I suppose. "All I remember was that one day I was in the cage and the next I was with him!"

 

Ranson nodded slowly. "She knew you would come, you know. Told us to bring the cage along for you." He must have felt me tremble because he put a hand to my cheek and stroked it softly. "Easy, my sweet. It doesn't have to come to that. She'll give you a second chance. I know she will."

 

I couldn't answer. Saying the wrong word now would probably get my throat slit.

 

"Els was given his. He made the wrong choice. But I saw to it his death was quick. For your sake."

 

"You killed him!"

 

"It had to be done. Surely you understand. He was a traitor and he stole you from us." He wiped away the tear that had slid onto my cheek. "Come back to us, Jyre. Come back to where you belong."

 

I swallowed and stared into his hard eyes, remembering.

 

"I'll look after you like I always did. I promise." He touched me, just like he had that first night. I took a step back, refusing to let the memory come. I took a long deep breath. Those days had been so easy. I hadn't even been aware of what he was doing half the time. "And I'll make you your special drink." The words were spoken softly. It was almost as though he knew what I was thinking.

 

"Ranson, I..."

 

"You're sorry. Yes, I know."

 

I let out a long sigh. All I needed to do was nod and this would be over. The pain and the memories would just slip away into the void that existed in the back of my mind. Just a little drink and I would forget everything. Nothing that happened then would matter. It was only when you woke up that it hurt and if the look in Ranson's eyes was anything to go by, I would never have to wake up again. I was tempted.

 

"Don't become another Els. Please."

 

Tempted – but not won over. He couldn't have chosen a worse thing to say. I shook my head. "I'm not the naive little kid you once knew. I'm not gonna fall for your tricks this time."

 

I never saw the blow coming. It dropped me to my knees. My head was still ringing when he dragged me forward by the hair. "If that's your choice, bitch!" He yanked me to my feet. "I'm gonna enjoy watching you rot!" My vision swam and I found myself staring at a dizzying whirl of sand and blackness. I remember stumbling and him dragging me onwards. Shouts from a distance. His reply. Then I was dropped to the ground and left there.

 

"You have done well, Ranson." It was the Lady's voice. "I will always remember how faithfully you served."

 

I heard sounds of a scuffle. Someone bumped into me. I couldn't move.

 

"B-but –"

 

"The time for weak manflesh is over fool! I have better things planned."

 

Something hard hit the back of my head. The world spun and I knew no more.

 

 

- Nightfall:  - Day 10: 11:30pm

 

I’m not sure if it was just the exhaustion hitting me again, or if something truly bad happened, but suddenly I just felt horrible.  This sickening feeling crept through my chest and into my throat.  Yet I pressed on.  It was not far until I made my way to a populated area.  This section of the maw was in heavy use. There were creatures patrolling everywhere.  Some were undeniably monsters, while others seemed to be human, but with signs of transformation already strongly evident.  Some of the transformations looked painful, and all disturbing.  I wondered what type of control she must have over these people in order for them to willingly allow themselves to become the beasts that they now are.  It was horrifying.

 

Coughing down the sick feeling, I concentrated my powers on concealment, and went into stealth mode.  Using my magic cloak to conceal myself, even the slightest shadow could be used to render me invisible.  I kept to the outer wall as I walked slowly down the curved corridor.  The inner wall had many gateways that lead to what seemed to be a very large central chamber.  I concentrated my thoughts on Jyre’s presence up ahead.  She was still alive.

 

 

- Jyre: In the Hands of The Lady - Day 10: 11:35pm

 

I sat in the cage, staring out at his corpse. It swung back and forth, dripping blood all over the ground. His dangling fingers left trails in their wake. I was too numb to be sickened by the bloody sight. My mind had already fled from the evil it had witnessed. But in a way the thing it had fled to was even worse: Daneel. He was in danger and I had abandoned him. Just like I had abandoned Els. And why? Because I was too damned selfish to think of anyone else but myself! I had come down here to help him, not make things worse! I had played right into the Lady’s hands by leaving him. I don't know how he felt about me but if it was in any way close to the feelings I held for him, the Lady had just gotten herself the perfect hostage. If he came to any harm... I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The stink of blood filled my nostrils. For a second I imagined it was Daneel, not Ranson, who swung from the beam. If only I hadn't been so bloody stupid! Ranson's death played through my mind yet again, only this time I was watching it happen to someone else.

 

Upon reviving I had found myself staring straight at his terrified, upside down face. The Lady had obviously been waiting for me to come round because as soon as I stirred she had given the order to begin. They had started at his feet. Carefully paring the flesh and stripping it back from the muscle underneath, exposing raw nerves and tissue to the air. Sick fascination kept me watching despite my revulsion. They peeled it off like a piece of clothing, taking great care not to let it rip or tear. His thrashing lasted only a few seconds, as did his screams. But I could see the life in his eyes.

 

And the agony.

 

As I watched his eyes locked with my own and I could see the accusation in them. Your fault, they seemed to say. If you hadn't left us...

 

I shook my head in denial. "I never meant... Didn't think."

 

"Do you ever think?" Blood dribbled down his chin into his mouth as he asked that. The pain in his voice was unbearable but there was nothing I could do now to make things change. "It’s always Jyre, Jyre, Jyre with you, isn't it?" His back arched as the knife bit into it. "Do you ever think of anyone else but yourself?" His whole body convulsed in agony as they tore the skin from his back. He lifted an accusing finger and pointed at me, his lips forming the word “traitor”. Then his arm dropped back down and his eyes slowly glazed over as the last drop of life left him.

 

Guilt surged through me. I wanted to scream. This was my fault! Daneel was dead and it was all my fault!

 

I heard laughter. Swallowing hard, I looked up. Ranson's dead, staring eyes met my own. Not Daneel then. Not yet, anyway. I sobbed in relief as I remembered those last few seconds of Ranson's life. His lips had parted as though he were about to speak. Then he let out a long, deep sigh. When his death finally came I was grateful it was over. The man may have been a bastard but he hadn't deserved that!

 

"You see young one," The Lady stepped between me and the corpse, "what it is that awaits you?" She moved back a step and gave Ranson's body a push. He swung forward, his face slamming into the cage. I jerked away as his blood spluttered over me. I could feel it running down my face but had no way to wipe it away. It still felt warm. Odd. I had always expected the heat to flee when life did.

 

Victoria bent down to look me in the eye. Her skin was smooth and unblemished. Her hair cascaded around her face in black waves. If it weren't for the coldness in the deep pits that were her eyes I wouldn't have believed her capable of this. She turned her head slightly as she studied me and for a second I could have sworn her white skin turned first green, then gray. She smiled and lifted a finger to wipe a drop of blood from my cheek. "You will be the final one," she said as she stood. "Your death will be my rebirth."

 

Death. I would welcome that. No more pain. No more misery. But, more importantly, no more hurting the people I loved. Daneel would be better off without me. They all would. All I ever did was cause trouble. He was strong, intelligent, he would get through this with James's help, and he would be rid of the burden that I created for him. So, perhaps my running off had been a good thing after all. It would leave him free to get on with the important things rather than having to contend with a selfish bitch like me. If the Lady had given me the choice, I would have ended my life right there.

 

"Not long now," she promised as she walked away.

 

"Yes," I answered in agreement, a wicked smile on my lips. Not long before Daneel's iron finds your black heart!

 

 

- Nightfall: And There She Was - Day 10: 11:36pm

 

I reached a point where there was finally a passageway on the outer wall of the corridor.  This was where Jyre was.  She was not alone.  There was also great evil down here.  I suspected that the Faery Queen was with her.  Quickly I darted down the dimly lit passage, and into a small chamber.  On the far wall was a great double-door, flanked by two large leafless trees.  Something was approaching from the other side.

 

The trees each moved to open the door, forming a large branch into a sort of arm, to pull each side of the door open.  Out stepped the Queen.  There she was, finally.  The Faery Queen, Viktoria, The Lady, the Dark Dryad of Chaos.  Whatever you chose to call her, there she was.  To the common eye, she appeared as no more than a breathtakingly beautiful noblewoman.  She was wrapped in a greenish robe, which covered all but her forearms.  She seemed to glide as she walked, the robe flowing softly over her slender body.  Her face was mostly covered by the hood of the robe, but her pale chin and black lips could be seen, as well as the black hair that poured out the corners of the hood onto her shoulders.  For an instant, she almost reminded me of the enchantress. 

 

However in that instant I was looking at her body, not the intense black aura that engulfed her like a cloud of furious evil.  Not since I looked upon the Arch-Bishop of Dorvakk had I seen an aura that intensely sinister.  Focusing on it rather than her, the body became little more than a shadow, irrelevant in the midst of such awesome chaotic power.

 

She was looking right at me.

 

Or was she?  Her attention was focused at my area, but she did not seem to notice me.  I realized that she could sense my presence every bit as well as I could sense hers, so why had she not pinpointed me?  She knew I was here.  I stayed motionless, standing still as death in the shallow shadow which I clung to.  I had my bow, and the arrow James gave me.  I could end it here and now.  But if I drew my weapon, she would see me and attack.  Who was faster?  Should I act now?  Was I, in my full might, now more powerful then she?  I doubted it.

 

My contemplation was cut short, as was hers.  Jyre’s mind screamed out in horror.  The Queen turned around slightly and glanced over her shoulder.  A thin smile graced her lips and she spun back around and left the room quickly. 

 

Slaying the Queen could wait.  I needed to save Jyre.

 

 

- Jyre: Awaiting Release - Day 10: 11:37pm

 

I stared at the stone of the wall opposite me and wondered just how long I would have to wait for The Lady to kill me. That was all I had left now. Waiting. I wanted it over. Finished. Me gone. The Lady gone. And everyone else left to return to their normal lives. The stone fascinated me. Even from this distance I was able to pick out all the tiny little grains that went into making it. I traced the pattern of the contours in my mind, imagining myself an explorer mapping it, noting the peeks that formed the mountains and the tiny crevices that became huge valleys. I did it to relieve the boredom whilst I awaited death, granting that tiny bit of my mind that still remained the luxury of having something to do. I could almost feel the texture of the stone beneath my fingertips. Rough, flaking. Tiny grains breaking off at my touch.

 

"Bring her."

 

I think it was The Lady that spoke those words, although I wasn't sure anyone had actually uttered a thing. I was aware of the lid being removed from the cage and the shackles falling from my wrists but to say I cared would have been a lie. Then I was lifted clear of the metal bars and place on my feet. Whatever it was that had lifted me gave me a prod. I stumbled forward.

 

Daneel!  No illusion this time. No figment of my imagination conjured up to fill in the hollow in my chest. He was really there! I stood frozen, staring at him. Just the tiniest bit of light. That's all there was. Eyes. I knew it was him!

 

I was pushed again. I fell to my knees, my eyes still fixed on his face. Sweat broke out my body. Dread filled my heart. If I could see him, then so could she!

 

I was dragged to my feet. Shoved forward. "Move!" At first I thought it was The Lady who had spoken, so soft and feminine was the voice. But then I turned my head and for the first time since I had been caught, I actually brought my eyes to rest on Ranson's killer. What I saw made me feel sick.

 

Bugbeast. That was the name James had given the strange green creatures that I had seen depicted in one of his books. At first I was certain that was what I faced. But when it smiled at me I knew I was wrong. The way its lips curled up. The light reflected in its eyes. Its expression. Human traits, all of them, far too human for a mere beast. And then I noticed other things. Its hands. Fingers. Five of them. The middle one a long sharp thing, like a giant nail. Hair. On its head. A little on its face. And the way it moved. It had the grace of a man, not the clumsiness of a mere beast. I understood what it was, what The Lady had done. She had mated them. Human and beast. And the thing that stood before was the result.

 

"Move," it said again. Grinning. Showing its teeth.

 

I heard the tinniest of noises. Like a tiny pebble scuttling across stone. When I looked I discovered Daneel had moved. He was too obvious. Too easily seen. I had to give him a chance! I charged straight at the Human/Bugbeast, knowing it would mean my death. Welcoming it even. It would distract her for a second, let him act. Perhaps even ruin whatever it was she had planned! If my death was sudden enough. Ranson's death had been part of some sort of ceremony and I was fairly certain she intended for mine to be as well. So, my death would solve two problems then. Deprive The Lady of her glory and grant Daneel a chance to bring her to an end. And all I had to do was drive myself onto one of the beast's vicious claws. I think I was laughing as I ran forward to be impaled.

 

 

- Nightfall: Blocked - Day 10: 11:37pm

 

The doors would not open!  In a way, I was lucky.  At least the two guardian trees did not attack me.  Instead they simply refused to open the door for me.  There was a large amount of activity in the room beyond.  Jyre was in dire need.  I could blast the door open, but that would put the entire place on full alert, and they would hunt us down one by one.  I reached out to Jyre’s mind, trying to find out what was happening and what I could do.

 

She was delirious, near panic, and desperate.  There was something else in the room with her, and it meant death to her.  I needed to let her know I was close by, and trying to get to her.  It may give her the little hope she needed to survive long enough for me to get to her.

 


Chapter 23 - One Villain’s Death is Another’s Birth

 

- Jyre: Incomplete Sacrifice - Day 10: 11:38pm

 

Agony ripped through me. I might have screamed. I might not. I was hurting too much to care! I stared into the beasts grinning eyes through a blanket of tears. Sobbed, I think. It took me a moment to realize I wasn't dead. Why wasn't I dead!?!

 

I looked down. Blood. My blood. On its hand. Running down its arm. Not dead. I half-stumbled, half-fell, pulling myself from its claw. It had missed. The stupid thing had gone and missed! I stared at the hole just above my hip in disbelief. I stared at the beast. I swung my head around to stare at her. I should have been dead!

 

"Not so easy, little thing." The beast laughed. Then it was reaching for me, trying to grab my shoulder.

 

Instinct made me dive out of the way. I scrambled between its legs, tried to stand. Couldn't. Hurt. Had to get away. Couldn't die here. Couldn't die for her!

 

Get away. Get away. The words were a chant, driving me forward. I saw darkness. Scrambled towards it. Crawl away and die. That's what I would do. Find somewhere dark and warm and curl up and die! But not here. Not for her!

 

There was a passage there. In the stone. In the dark. I think I was laughing again. I prodded the hole with my finger. It came away covered in blood. It didn't hurt anymore though. It was just numb. And bleeding. I forced myself into the passage. On my belly now, wriggling like a snake. Had to move deeper. Get away from the beast's reach. Away from her! I worked the dirt with my elbows. Kicked it with my feet. Completely dark now. Nothing to see. Nothing to hear. Just the blood dripping from my wound and the dirt under my fingers. And then it was gone. Air above me. Air beneath me. I fell.

 

The ground hit me hard. I couldn't breath. I rolled onto my back. Stared up at nothing and knew I was safe. She couldn't get me now. It was too late. I would be dead soon. Safe. Alone. And dead. I smiled, I think.

 

Something white hovered above me. White, with two tiny dots inside it. And something else. A mouth? I squinted. Blinked the tears from my eyes. And slowly I came to make out a face.

 

"James?"

 

 

- James: First Aid - Day 10: 11:40pm

 

Jyre stumbled and fell next to my hiding-place, a deep hole in her gut.  Blood was everywhere, and she seemed to be on the verge of passing out. I poured a healing potion into the wound, and forced another down her throat; then got to work trying to stitch the damage closed. It would take a while; there was a lot of internal damage to repair, and each set of stitches needed to be accompanied by another dash of healing potion in a desperate attempt to prevent the wound turning septic.

 

 

- Nightfall: Too Slow, But Not Too Late - Day 10: 10:40pm

 

The doors suddenly cracked and gave way to my will.  I thrust them open wide enough for my entry as quietly as I could.  I saw the creature that was the cause of her fear.  An insect-beast was clawing away at a hole in the wall, which Jyre definitely used to escape.  I ended its attempt by allowing the wall to return the favor, impaling the critter with a nice shaft of stone. 

 

Jyre had escaped.  She was much better now, but still very upset.  She was somewhere below me, it seemed.  She was not alone either, James was with her.  I thanked them to stay where they were, out of sight, and safe for now.  I had a job to do. 

 

 

- Lytha: Hunting in the Lion’s Den - Day 11: 12:20am

 

As we continued the search, and set more fires in the bedrooms of some Hammerites, I thought back to the main hall.

 

The room had been filled with the corpses of Hammerites. Most of them didn’t die from the blasts of the mines.  These were Hammerites who had wished themselves dead, and killed themselves.  They believed the pain of their torn and broken limbs to be worse than death.  Cowards.  Torturing others, but not able to live with the pain themselves.

 

We had searched in the entire eastern wing of the building, but found no one. The majority of them were obviously in the main hall, when Ghost had blown them up. I was happy that I had brought some matches with me, and enjoyed myself as I set fire on some tapestries. The smoke was already very thick, but we had some time until it would be really threatening. Ghost was busy arranging clothes on the bed, to set fire to it later. The tapestries burned very easily and produced more smoke.  Of course, the building was made from solid stone, so we didn’t have to worry about the fires getting bad enough to put us in danger.

 

As we were setting the fire on the bed, a priest walked into the room. Through the thick smoke, we could see he wore a wealthy and expensive robe.  His face was strong and young, but hard and cold.  He had not a sign “High Priest” on his forehead, but he moved just as if he owned the place. I was sure that he was the man we wanted, and as I looked up, I realized that Ghost thought that, too. The Priest seemed to be confused, and tried to see us through the thick smoke.

 

“Who goes there!  Show thyself!”

 

Both of us, Ghost and me, shouted simultaneously:  "Get him!"

 

And we readied our bows. The High Priest stared at me a moment, and realized that something had gone wrong for him. Completely wrong. He started to call for the Builder's help, and concentrated to cast a spell.

 

I aimed at his throat, in a hurry. I had almost no more arrows left, and did not want to have to kill him with as many arrows as I had needed for the Inquisitor.

 

Beneath me, I heard Ghost say: "Aim at his legs!"  He seemed to chuckle. I frowned, but lowered the tip of the arrow. He had already summoned a magical hammer between his hands, and was ready to throw it. Ghost and I were faster. The split second it took for him to decide which one of us to hurl the hammer at was long enough to make the difference.  We shot almost at the same time.

 

The High Priest fell to his knees and screamed The magical hammer had disappeared as soon as he had lost his concentration because of the pain. He stared at his legs in disbelief, and at his own blood. One arrow stuck in his right knee, the other in his left upper leg. He touched one of the arrows, and wheezed again.  He shouted, his voice weak with pain, “My sons, help, help me…” No one heard him.  No one came.  Then he tried to regain his concentration and to cast another spell.

 

I hurried to him, as I saw what he planned. As I yelled "Ghost, help me!" I realized that he was already near the Priest, and grabbed one of the arrows, and twisted it. The Priest screamed in pain and lost his concentration. He fell on his back.

 

Suddenly, a mad idea appeared in my mind. Hadn't I brought that potion of mushroom tea with me? I started a nervous search in my pocket. As usual, I did not find what I needed in the chaos in there. That happened to me always, when I was in a hurry – the main reason why I don't use mines or bombs. I cursed the chaos, and searched nervously.

 

Ghost had grabbed the High Priest at his throat. "Now, now; no more spells, Mister Priest!" he said.

 

The priest shut his eyes, and clenched his entire face.  He was concentrating very hard.  He began to whisper quietly, words I did not understand. Ghost throttled him, yet the priest did not phase, and continued his incantation with massive determination.

 

I found the potion, at last. Luckily it was easy to open, because my hands started shaking because of my nervousness. “Open his mouth!” I shouted to Ghost.  Ghost nodded and gripped the man’s jaw, trying to pull his clenched teeth open.  They would not budge as he continued to utter, now under his breath.  Ghost, determined, jammed his dagger between the man’s teeth, and pried open his mouth.  I poured the mushroom tea between his teeth, and into his mouth. He gurgled and tried to spit it out, but then Ghost held the mouth of the Priest shut with both his hands. The High Priest swallowed.

 

He stopped his incantation suddenly.  I started laughing hysterically as I saw the odd expression on the priest's face. The effects of mushroom tea appear almost immediately after it is drunk.

 

Ghost stared at me, wondering about my laughter.

 

"What was that? Poison?" he asked.

 

"Mushroom tea," I chuckled.

 

Ghost grinned now, too. The high priest started swaying. He closed his eyes, and tried to concentrate. It seemed to be difficult for him to keep a thought in his stoned mind. As I looked at him, I calmed down. I realized that it could be a good idea to prevent any risks now by tying the priest up. I started another search in my pocket, and found some strings. The High Priest struggled a little bit to get free.

 

I said to Ghost: "Hold his arms."

 

He hesitated, and had a look at the stoned expression on the priest's face. The priest mumbled the name of the Builder and admired a colored pattern of light on the ceiling. "Nah, no need for tying him up," he said.

 

"No need to take any risks", I told Ghost, as I tied the High Priest's hand before his chest. He seemed to be busy admiring the fire on the bed now. At least he stared oddly at it, his lips were moving silently. He ignored us. As he moved his legs a little, they went into a spasm.

 

"So, what shall we do to him now?" I asked Ghost. I started to giggle again.

 

"What should we do? I have no idea. I never expected to get this far in my plans," he laughed.

 

"Well, we have him now."

 

The priest tried to shuffle backwards.  His eyes came into focus for a split second, and then glazed back over.

 

"Don't dare, mister," I said, and fumbled a dagger from below my cloak into my hand. The priest stared at me, and stopped moving.

 

Ghost continued with a wicked grin: "Let’s get him to the front gate and make an example of him." He looked up, and stared at the burning bed. "Beside, it is really getting smoky in here."

 

I saw a really nasty picture in my mind with the High Priest as an example in the entrance area of the temple, and grinned. "Okay. Lets take him."

 

We reached simultaneously at the shoulders and arms of the priest. He tried to kick and prayed for the Builder's help, but was too feeble and the Builder seemed not to be interested in helping his servant. I kicked the priest in his side.

 

"Don't worry, Mister Priest. You will meet ‘thy’ precious Builder soon enough," Ghost said. "Isn't this what you want?"

 

"But, but I never –" The priest did not end this sentence.

 

He closed his mouth as I ordered: "Shut up!"

 

"You never what?" Ghost asked.

 

The high priest only shook his head.

 

I started to drag on the shoulder of the priest, to get him to the entrance. Ghost waited briefly, but helped me to get the wheezing priest to the front gate. The arrows stuck still in his legs, and caused him pain, as they collided with door frames and moved in the wounds. We left a broad trail of blood behind us.

 

 

- Ghost: Cruel Intentions - Day 11: 12:40am

 

We dropped the priest on his face long enough to open the huge front doors to the temple. We stared outside, waiting for the smoke to clear a bit and some fresh air flooded inside. Lytha started to cough as we picked the priest up and stepped outside into the night. The sky was filled with stars, but was quickly becoming filled with smoke.  We looked around to find a good spot for teaching a Hammerite a lesson in humility. Then I spotted it. The big wooden sign that read “The Temple of the Inquisitor, Order of the Hammerites”

 

“That’s it! Drag him over here!” His eyes widened as he tried to struggle against us.

 

“What do you have in mind?” Lytha asked.

 

“Untie his hands and hold his left hand over there.” I wasn’t smiling any more.  This was a gruesome idea, but I felt like it had to be done. Lytha did as I asked and stared in shock as I pulled one of my daggers from behind my back and drove it through his right wrist, pinning it to the sign. The priest let out a howl of pain as the blood started to drop from the hole in his wrist. He started shaking and struggling with Lytha as she reached for her own dagger.  In her search the High Priest slipped free of her grasp. He pushed her to the ground and reached for something at his belt. I didn’t have time to stop him when he raised his hand and pointed what looked like a large pipe at me. He grinned evilly for a moment.  I didn’t have time to react when the blast of noise and smoke struck me and threw me violently to the ground.

 

 

- Nightfall: Piecing Together Her Plan - Day 11: 12:40am

 

The place seemed deserted. I quickly made my way back to the central chamber.  I had managed to get a good feel for the place before, so finding it was not too hard.  The area was basically an oval.  A corridor circled the oval-shamed ceremony room.  At the foot of the room was the old ceremony chamber, where the Trickster met his demise.  Evidently the Queen felt that a new one needed to be created for this different type of ritual, so this new area was quickly constructed.  Dashing back to my point of origin, I used the path James originally took, which lead to a small outcropping of rock overlooking the chamber.  It was all too perfect.

 

I could still sense James and Jyre somewhere below where I stood.  They were out of the way, and safe. 

 

The creatures were moving quickly to prepare the scene.  The Queen was still nowhere to be seen. 

 

“With Jyre rescued, there will be a major damper on her plans.” Said the voice of James from behind me.

 

I sighed and looked over my shoulder, the light from my eyes Illuminating his face.  “James, you could sneak up on anyone, couldn’t you.”  This was also an embarrassing moment to realize that my sen-saronde was oddly inactive.  Not waiting for a reply, I queried his statement.  “What do you mean?”

 

James elaborated.  “I am still not all that clear on what she hopes to accomplish, but based on what I have seen and read, and what Jyre has told me,” he gestured to Jyre, who was sitting several feet away with a large bandage around her torso, “the ritual required the sacrifice of a certain number of young and strong human bodies.  The human body contains a great deal of raw energy, and certain magic can absorb it when the body dies.  Many deaths went into the construction of the villa.  Still more humans have been transformed into beasts.  Several more were needed for this last ritual.  One, Ranson, a former acquaintance of Jyre’s has already been slain.  Jyre was to be sacrificed during the ritual, along with two others.  However now that Jyre seems out of the picture, she will have to settle for her third alternative.”

 

“And that is?”

 

“Well, herself, I believe.”

 

I blinked.

 

“What does she hope to accomplish that does not require her to be alive when it’s finished?”

 

“Evidentially something that does not require her body.”

 

I sighed out of frustration.  How could we thwart a plan that we did not understand?

 

 

- Jyre: Heavy Heart - Day 11: 12:50am

 

I sat up slowly and tried to work out where I was. I had been with Viktoria and then... There was something about Daneel... And James... I had seen them both. I stretched my arms out and felt rock above my head. There was a tightness across my stomach. It felt as though my skin had been pulled taught.  Looking down I found the tear in my top, prodded it with my fingers and found the stitches underneath. I couldn't remember getting them. All I could remember was the feel of that thing's spike driving in and.... "James?" My voice trembled as I spoke his name. If it hadn't been him...

 

Something shifted up ahead. I could make out James' face now. He smiled at me softly. "Hold on a while longer. Daneel's almost here."

 

Daneel... I stared at the ground between my feet and wondered how I was going to face him after everything I had done. I had certainly proven him right on one point. I was just a stupid little kid. Thoughtless, selfish...

 

I heard something scrape on the rock up ahead and glanced up to find him crouched down on his knees just a foot away from where I sat, the top of his head brushing against the low ceiling. Even as he lifted his eyes to look at me, I slipped my arm over my wound, feeling suddenly ashamed of it. I didn't want him seeing what I had done to myself.

 

It was surprising just how well I could make out his face, silhouetted against the light as it was. Lines of worry had set in across his forehead and his eyes flickered back and forth, never quite meeting my own. If it was anyone else I would have said they were nervous, but not Daneel...

 

He sighed softly and his eyes finally came to rest on my own. It was then that I finally noticed what had been disturbing me. The light that had filled his eyes the last time I had seen him was gone. I suddenly felt the need to say something. "Daneel, I..." I what? Was sorry? What good was sorry going to do now? Sorry wasn't about to take back all the damage I had done.

 

"No need..." He was speaking to me now. His voice gentle. "I'm sorry I betrayed your trust. I forgive you for trying to kill me before. I understand why you did it. Right now, all I'm trying to do is save us and get us out of here – and hopefully kill The Lady in the process."

 

I felt so guilty, hearing him say that, as though everything that had happened was his fault. I tried to move closer but the pain from my wound stopped me. I hoped he hadn't noticed me wince. "I didn't mean... I wasn't thinking..."

 

I waited for him to say something but he just watched me, looking uncertain. Perhaps he still doubted me. Perhaps... "I'm sorry." I dropped my eyes back to the ground and picked nervously at my stitches, not really paying attention to what I was doing. He didn't deserve to be lumbered with me. "Maybe you should just leave me here."

 

I felt his hand on my shoulder. There was a moment of silence before he spoke. "You're with us now, Jyre; a fellow thief, trying to survive."

 

"Maybe I don't deserve to survive!" I spoke more sharply than I had intended. It wasn't him I was angry with. It was myself. I pulled too hard on the stitching and felt blood under my fingers. I moved my hand away before I made it worse. "That could have been you in there!"

 

"I know that you care about me."

 

I stiffened, surprised by his words, started to shake my head in denial, only he hadn't finished.

 

"I don't know why its true, but I know that you do."

 

I watched him, seeing something else in his eyes but not knowing what it was. "I..." I broke off uncomfortably. My voice seemed like an intrusion.

 

He started to speak again. "And though I can give little rational explanation, I care about you."

 

I was stunned. He cared about me? "But you... I thought..." It was only when I saw the look of puzzlement cross over his features that I realized I had spoken out loud.

 

"What did you think?"

 

"When you never said anything," I stared at the fresh blood on my hand, feeling stupid. "I thought I was in the way."  Daneel shook his head but somehow that only made me feel worse. "I'm always in the way." There was just a hint of anger in my words.

 

"I can't lie to you. I wished you didn't come."

 

I swallowed hard, uncertain now. A tiny drop of blood fell from my finger to the ground below. I watched it, fascinated as always.

 

"But that's only because I didn't want you in danger. Jyre, can I tell you a secret."

 

I lifted my eyes and nodded, unable to speak.

 

"A long time ago, when I was younger than you even, I was in trouble. I was taken away from my home, and lost. Someone found me and helped me. They had no reason to, they just did. I never understood why, but they helped me find my home again.” He stopped, waiting for my reaction.  I just looked at him, unsure of what expression to give.  "I never forgot it.  I learn my lessons well.  It's just in my nature, that way of thinking."

 

I watched him, waiting for him to say more but only silence followed. If only I could understand what it was I could see in his face. I knew I was missing something! "You want to help me like they helped you..?"

 

A slight smile blossomed on his lips. "It's more than that..."

 

I knew he would have said more but James picked that moment to speak. "Look! Its Viktoria!"

 

 

- Lytha: Avenging Daemon - Day 11: 12:50am

 

I looked up. Ghost was on the ground, and I saw the blood on his shoulder. His face was pale, his eyes closed. He was dead. I knew he was dead. And that scum Hammerite held still this; this thing in his hand. He pointed the thing at me, and tried to get his other hand free.

 

I reacted as fast as I could. I jumped on my feet, and tried to ignore the voices in my head that tried to tell me that I had failed, again. I kicked at the Hammer's hand to keep him from using that pipe, again. He wheezed, but had his hand cramped around it. I grabbed his hand, and turned it on the wrist. He dropped the thing, as I started kicking against the arrows in his legs.

 

"You killed him, you bastard!" I shouted.

 

Then the priest seemed to bite on his own tongue, at least I saw some blood drizzling from his mouth. He cried aloud and praised the Builder. He said something about how he had found the true belief now.

 

I stared at him, and stopped kicking him. I got another dagger from below my cloak, and drove it through his left hand. Now he was nailed to that sign, blood everywhere. He cried to the Builder for forgiveness. I slapped his face, both because I thought that he killed Ghost, and because I wanted him to shut up.

 

His entire body tensed up. He then uttered, through his clenched teeth, “Damn you, Nightfall.”  I hit him hard with my fist across his temple. That was too much for him, and he fainted.

 

The hate I felt was overwhelming. I had never felt such hate before. I had him, the cause of my pain in the last week, at least the one who was responsible. I had him in my hands. And he dared to faint into the numb unconscious darkness. I kicked him, again. "You want to have it easy? Simply fainting? Come back to feel the pain!"

 

Before I could kick or hit the priest another time, I saw Ghost moving a little on the ground, he touched his shoulder, and groaned.

 

I turned to him. "Ghost! You are alive!"

 

 

- Ghost: Undead- Day 11: 12:51am

 

My eyes opened, then closed again as I grimaced in pain. I thought my arm was missing, because I couldn’t feel anything but pain. I heard a voice. Maybe it was the Builder speaking to me or something. Everything seemed to have a haze around it and I just hurt. Then I heard it again.

 

“Ghost! You are alive!” I opened my eyes again to see Lytha standing there, staring at me in disbelief. In just a few seconds she went through a full range of emotions, from violent anger to happiness.

 

“Yes of course I’m alive,” I groaned. “Can’t kill a ghost you know.” I tried to smile and stand up, but took a while since I was too busy holding one arm with my other one to hold myself up.  Besides, it hurt when I laughed. 

 

“What in the hell was that?” I asked while clutching my shoulder.

 

The discussion was cut short when someone behind us shouted “Foul murderer! Guards! Someone help!”

 

“Oh this is just what we want! Lets get the hell out of here!” The subtlety of my assault plan had been blown up with the guards inside. The priest moaned, breaking me out of my thoughts.

 

“You didn’t kill him yet? You are slipping Lytha! And here I thought you really hated these guys. Or were you just playing around?” I grinned and she looked at me like I was crazy but I think she was amused. I gave the priest a smack to try and wake him up.  He was having a really bad day. 

 

 

- Nightfall: He Who Hesitates is Lost - Day 11: 12:55am

 

There was more to it than that, but I couldn’t find the words.  She seemed to be temporarily satiated with that explanation, so I left it at that.  I considered for a long moment if what I said was the right thing to say.  I severely disliked talking to anyone about such personal things.  However once in, it was hard to pull back out.  There was something about my explanation, or rather her probable interpretation of it, that did not sit well with me.  I attempted to clarify, still having no idea how.  “It’s more than that...”  James cut me off.

 

“Look!  It’s Viktoria!”

 

“Who?”  I said, a split second before I realized he was referring to the Faery Queen.  I uttered a quick “Ah.”

 

And there she was.  I instantly grew tense as she strode into view down below.  This was it.  Ironic that such a chilling adventure would end on such a quiet solemn note.  I had only to fire this arrow and it would all be over.  Her minions would search for the killer, but they would not find us. 

 

She stepped up to the pedestal at the far end of the oval chamber.  Behind her was the large shimmering gateway, presumable her ticket to our world as soon as the ceremony was completed.  In front of her was a pentagram, which, oddly enough, seemed to be prepared on a metal platform. In the center of the room was an oval pool of lava.  Between the pool and the pentagram where two pillars.  One had the corpse of a very old man tied to it, and the other had the corpse of a strong looking middle aged man, who looked rather familiar.  He was dressed in a Hammerite uniform, most likely Private Christopher.  I could only guess at the significance of these two bodies.

 

The beasts began to take up positions around the pool in the center.  They were the common bugbeast, craymen, rat-apes, and mongbats, along with others I had never seen before, hybrids of tree and man, of serpent and man, and even a strange too headed ogre-like creature.  They were all whispering amongst themselves, all in different tongues.  

 

James gave me a sharp nudge.  “The time is now!” he whispered.  I nodded, and readied the arrow, slowly taking aim.  I heard Jyre swallow hard.  Then he Queen looked right into my eyes.

 

I hesitated, frozen with dread.  She was looking right at me, just like before.  She reached into her robe, never breaking eye contact, and pulled out the mechanical eye that had killed the Trickster.  Behold, she had taken it after all.  Unless I was very much mistaken, what I was seeing here was quite opposite of what we should have expected.  Breaking eye contact, she placed the eye on the pedestal in front of her.

 

Okay, maybe she didn’t see me.  Maybe I was just paranoid and she was looking just in my general vicinity, just like before.  She was quite far away, at any rate, and I couldn’t be sure.  Besides, at this distance, it was dark enough up here to render us totally invisible.  My confidence regained, I took aim once more, for right between her collar bones.  She was saying something down there, some type of incantations. 

 

Something warm and wet hit the side of my face.  This totally intentional act served to totally destroy this simple solution.  I didn’t even get to see what it was before I tumbled head over heals off the ledge, and onto the stone floor some twenty feet below.  It hurt.  It hurt quite a bit, especially considering that my cheek was now bleeding.   I think Jyre actually screamed louder than I did. 

 

 

- James: Bizarre Chance of Fate - Day 11: 12:55am

 

Why did he delay?  I suppose he needed to be careful, for he would only get one shot. I retrained my desire to urge him on. Viktoria pulled out the mechanical eye, and a number of possible courses of action began to crystallize into a horrible certainty. I could have really used an hour or so to just speculate, but I didn’t have it. I was increasingly sure I knew what was going on, but if I was right, we were witnessing a disaster for all humanity. 

 

Suddenly, I noticed a large red mass of flesh crawling across the wall directly towards us!  Before I could warn Dan about it to avoid causing him to misfire the arrow, it lunged a part of itself at him, jabbing him sharply in the side of the face! I reached futilely to catch him as he careened over the ledge, but all I caught, as if by some bizarre chance of fate, was the arrow!

 

Shocked, I averted my attention from the arrow and the red mass, which was now nowhere to be seen, and made my best effort to see what happened to Dan without making my presence blatantly obvious. He had fallen quite a way, and landed rather uncomfortably on the polished stone floor. I could tell he was still alive by the groan and the attempts to regain his feet, but I was unsure as to how long it would last, considering that several dozens beasts were loudly converging on him!

 

I heard Jyre screaming something, but couldn’t quite make it out. Thankfully the ruckus below drowned out her cries of panic. Curses, Daneel, why did you go and let that happen?  I grabbed Jyre and handed her the arrow.  Summoning my best command voice, I told her: “Jyre.  Kill Viktoria with this.  NOW.”  She reacted slowly but nodded her understanding.

 

 

- Nightfall:  Magic - Day 11: 12:56am

 

I rolled to my feet as quickly as I could, in spite of the aching pain, only to have a half dozen fists and claws come down on my back like so many sharp falling rocks.  I didn’t have time to deal with this.  No sooner had I been flattened to the ground, I focused my mana into a horizontal shockwave.  It blasted forth from my body at about ankle level, knocking all my attackers right off their feet. 

 

Once again getting to a standing position as quickly as I could, I found myself face to face with her.  She was still in her human form, arms folded across her chest, glaring at me.

 

“Ah, Master Nightfall.  You know, if you had simply requested to attend, I certainly would have offered to make you an honored guest, and witness to this monumental occasion.”  It could have been the tone of her voice, or just her history, that told me she was mocking me.  I could do worse, I suppose.

 

“My children, please, retake your places.  This manfool cannot harm us any further.”  She did not know me very well.

 

With a thought two stone hands reached out from the stone floor and grabbed the Queen by the calves.  Her vocalization of surprise was turned to rage as the hands drew apart sharply.  She twisted around, her arms flaring out in vine.  A spray of steaming mercury launched from my palms, tearing through the vines.  Her skin dried and cracked, tearing her clothing as her body converted into its natural wood.  Vines sprouted from her knees, forming new legs, and the old ones fell off.  More vines and branches shot out from her arms.  I raised the ground beneath me suddenly, launching myself into the air.  From there I commanded the ground beneath her to form a cup, and polish smooth as glass.  She lost her footing and slipped to her back, her vines unable to get hold.  I came to my feet, and commanded piercing spikes to issue forth from the bowl.  The rods of stone cut through her wooden body like nails.  She screamed with pain.  My eyes narrowed as I watched her vines flail.  Do not anger an earth wizard, Faery. 

 

The cries of pain turned to laugher as her torn wooden body rose from the bowl, her wounds quickly sealing over with bark.  I was caught totally off guard as vines slithered around my shoulders from behind, jerking me backwards.  The sickness in my stomach brought about by the fall climaxed as I realize she was sucking all the mana out of me with her mere glance.   I felt instantly nauseated, as the power that filled me was swept away so rapidly.  She was not fighting me, she was playing with me.

 

An aura of vines surrounded her as she strode towards me.  I felt the vines which gripped my shoulders release, sliding back into her ribs, only to feel the grip of her fingers around my neck.  She lifted me up off my feet, looking me over.  "You would have done well, but alas, your body is far too tainted.  I could drain the life out of you, but still the stench of your human earth magics would ruin my ritual."  Her vines moved all over my body, ripping my tools and weapons off my person and scattering them.  It didn’t matter, I was now too weak to use them anyway.  Then I was dropped.  I struggled to stand, but was again thrown to my back as she kicked me.  She reached down, and a stream of metal flowed upwards into her hand; my magic armor. The liquid metal dried and dissolved to dust as it touched her hand.  She was destroying it. Great, first my sword, now my armor.  Thank god I didn’t bring my art trophies or my autographed novels.  Come to think of it, I should have brought that stupid stuffed pigeon that my neighbor had sent me.  I really needed to get rid of that thing.

 

Finished with me, she walked away.  Without the armor, and with the drain on my powers, I was too weak to stand.

 

The bark of her body softened, and turned milky white.  The vines which surrounded her were either enveloped back into her body, or fell off.  She resumed human form.  "You shall be a spectator, a witness to my coming glory.  Then you shall be my slave.  I must thank you for delivering yourself to me like this.  It was certainly an unexpected gift.”

 

When she got to the pedestal, she just stood there, as if waiting for something.  Maybe she wanted me to say something.

 

 

- Ghost:  Death Without Parade - Day 11: 12:59am

 

“Well we can’t just leave him here alive or we’re really in deep shit.” I looked around for something, and decided to use the dagger from the guy who ran outside after us. I pulled the dagger from his chest and walked back to the priest.

 

“I really wish you were awake to see this Hammer. With all the pain you’ve given to others you aren’t much for taking it yourself.” He winced and let out a long breath as the dagger slipped between his ribs. He was no longer breathing, but I jammed the dagger deep into his chest one last time. I spotted the thing he has used on me, laying on the ground and grabbed it as I dragged Lytha into an alley and away from this place of destruction.

 

 

- Nightfall:  All In Place - Day 11: 1:00am

 

A haunting smile crept over her face.  “There,” she said, ripples flowing across her body, “it is done.  The High Priest of Order has been slain.  We can begin.”

 


Chapter 24 - Vendetta’s Fruition

 

- Jyre: The Archer - Day 11: 12:56am

 

For one split second I hated them both; The Lady for coming and James for pointing it out.  Just when Daneel had finally started to talk to me! James I could forgive, after all he was only watching out for us all. But The Lady... I loathed her! Because it didn't matter where I was, or what I was doing, she was always there, ruining things! It had started with Ranson. I had been with him a month, perhaps two, when she decided to interfere. I'm not saying that I was happy with him, but I wasn't unhappy either – most of the time, anyway. She had spotted me somewhere with Ranson, liked what she saw and ordered him to draft me into her guard. Of course, not being satisfied with that, she had to go and lock me up in that blasted cage! And even when I was gone, hundreds of miles away on what may as well have been a different world, she was inside my head, taunting me. Els was gone because of her; and Ranson. And now that I was finally getting a chance with Daneel she had to come along and ruin that too!

 

I couldn't see her from where I sat. Daneel and James were doing a good job of blocking my view. I edged closer, trying to get a better idea of what was going on, but then I settled on studying Daneel instead. He already had the arrow knocked and ready to fire. His back was straight and motionless. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to run my hand over his smooth skin. I lifted my gaze to his face instead. The determination I found there left me with no doubts of failure. He was strong, unlike me, and he was going to succeed. And then the second came for him to let fly.

 

The arrow never left the string. I starred at it in disbelief. Why hadn't he let fly?! He couldn't hesitate now. Not when we were so close!

 

And then he was gone. Thrown off the ledge by some unseen force before I could move. I called out his name in panic, scrambling to the spot where he had been crouching, but he was already gone. I would have gone down to him then but something else caught my eye. The Lady, standing on a pedestal on the far side of the chamber, staring at the point where Daneel must have landed, a mocking smile on her face. The second I saw her I knew what I had to do.

 

"Give me the arrow, James!"

 

I don't think he heard me. But I wasn't paying much attention to him. I had already removed my bow from its holster and set about extending it. I kept my gaze fixed firmly on The Lady as I worked, making sure I knew where she was but never truly seeing her. Something intense was going on down there, but I could not afford to watch – I had to hurry.  I tested the string on the bow, making certain that it was still good. My hands began to shake.

 

I closed my eyes, forcing down the panic that had stolen over me. Now wasn't the time to go getting emotional. I needed a clear head for this – now more than ever. But all I could think about was The Lady and how much she had hurt me; how much I hated her... I opened my eyes.

 

"James. Give me the arrow."

 

James turned to me, his attention caught by the sudden calm in my voice. “Jyre.  Kill Viktoria with this.  NOW.”  He held his hand out and I plucked the arrow from it.

 

I waited for her to be still.  Time passed slowly as I watched her and Daneel clash.  I reminded myself to keep breathing.  I hardened myself as I watched her toss Daneel aside like a toy.

 

The shaft of the arrow brushed against my cheek, its cold caress a welcome companion. My eyes fixed on Viktoria one last time. I let out a growl, deep and primal, as I chose my spot. "Your throat, my lady," I mused. "Or your heart, perhaps?" I think I laughed. "Oh. I almost forgot. You have no heart." I aimed for the center of her chest, wanting her to feel the arrow's bite. One of her beasts crossed the room, blocking my line of vision. I waited, still talking to myself. "They lied to me, my lady. Would you like to know why? Because they said you were a goddess. But you can't be a goddess, can you?" I checked my aim one last time.

 

"Do you know why? Because goddess's can't die!"

 

I let the arrow fly.

 

 

- James:  Bolt of Blue, I Call to You - Day 11: 1:00am

 

“There, it is done.  The High Priest of Order has been slain.  We can begin.”, she said, and after that events took place with shocking suddenness.  Even now, looking back, I can only remember individual events, sequenced as if in a strobe light.    Daneel, standing stripped of his equipment, mocked by Viktoria.  She points at him, says “STAY!”  And a shimmering field surrounds him; his gestures indicate he is powerless to break out.

 

She turns to the pedestal of the Eye and begins to speak:

 

Bolt of blue, I call to you

From tamed and true, I unleash you.

Leap the gaps, and energies fry, too swift for mortal hand or eye.

           

My worst fears of Viktoria’s project are confirmed, and I stare at the scene, rooted by horror and indecision.  She intends to infiltrate the Metal Age, realigning herself to become a force of chaos infecting the new order. 

 

Around her, her minions move back in a hideous dance, seeming to break their bones with the violence of their movements.  Their dance begins to move about the pedestal upon which Viktoria chants to the Eye, standing in front of the new Gate.  A rim of lava bubbles around the Gate pedestal, and the pedestal rotates counter to the direction of the dance.  Arcs of some eldritch energy begin to form, between Viktoria, the Eye, the Gate, and the dancers.  A lost corner of my mind likens their pattern to those of iron filings on a paper held above a magnet….

 

I glance at Jyre, whose eyes are closed and brow beading with sweat from concentration.  The pain of drawing the bow must be immense with her wound but this does not show on her face.  The flickers of light from the arcing power and the lava sparkles through the beads of sweat to give her the appearance of being bedecked with jewels.  Viktoria picks up a new chant:

 

Press will creak and ink will leak

All through your text my errors creep

Your paper memories twist unclear

From printed pages chaos leers.

 

When would Jyre fire that damned arrow??

 

 

- Nightfall:  The Queen’s Ascension - Day 11: 1:00am

 

I knew things had gotten bad when I felt a jerk and a shudder, my body frozen in some type of sinister field.  All my senses were numbed save my vision, which was left in a terribly distorted state.  The display about me was both gruesome and awesome.  The eerie glow of light and dark ether radiated through the room.   The Queen’s voice echoed menacingly, her power almost blinding.

 

I clenched my teeth, trying with all my remaining strength to reach into myself and pull out any power left in me, to combat this force which rendered me helpless.  It was a totally ironic effort, but one that I needed to make.

 

The world seemed to move in slow motion, as the Queen freed herself from the false human form of The Lady.  Her robe was ripped apart as vines released themselves from her flesh, and her skin hardened into the bark of a tree.  The vines, pouring out of her arms and her sides lifted her off the floor, and crowned her with a writing halo of leaves. 

 

She reached out with her vine-like fingers, and pulled a metal dagger from the inside of the pedestal.  Taking the dagger with both hands, she drew it above her head.

 

 

- Ghost:  Flee the Scene - Day 11: 1:00am

 

Well, there he was.  The bloodied and broken body of that damn bastard lay dead.  My hands were covered in his blood.  It wasn’t bad for a day’s work.  Lytha and I wasted no time in getting the hell out of the burning coffin.  The witness to the murder still followed us at a distance, shouting for the guards. Some people peeked out of windows or doorways.  Smoke continued to billow out of the grand temple of the now ,quite dead, Inquisitor.

 

 

- James: 

 

Viktoria raises a dagger above her head, standing in rags of clothing rent asunder by her transformation to her true form.  Her minion’s bodies have collapsed into bloody ruin, and their essences race about the room, screaming triumph as the arcs of power grow in intensity.  Jyre’s bowstring thwacks.  And time seems to stand still as the iron arrow flies.  Viktoria plunges the dagger up under her breastbone, screaming: “And flawed your steel will flex and break.”  Her blood gushes forth onto the Eye.  The level of ambient energies in the room increases a hundredfold.

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

The ritual was violated by the presence of something that did not belong.  Flying above my head was the iron arrow, shot by Jyre’s hand.  It arced smoothly, untouched by the chaos around it, to its destination, the Queen’s throat. 

 

But the end was not to be.  Not a second before the arrow struck its target, the dagger plunged into the Queen’s chest, sealing the ritual.  The arrow struck too, though too late to be of any use, and ripped right through her neck, tearing her head from her shoulders.  The arrow's path, undaunted by the impact, sailed on, and made contact with the portal.  Rather than pass through, it lodged itself, the powerful man-made magic far too incompatible with the synthetic chaos of the Gate. 

 

Before the Gate, something dreadful was occurring to the ruptured corpse of the slain goddess.  The Faery  Queen, as we knew her, was dead, but something new was born in her place.

 

I feel myself go limp as the field which confined me vanished, and I collapsed to the floor.  Through the deafening roar of the whirlwind of energy, I heard the soft sound of a small body leaping to the ground behind me.  Jyre, inspired and with a new strength, pulled my body from the floor, and braced me as I stood.

 

“We must get to the portal,” I told her, clued off by the fact that James was running to it.  She nodded and supported me as I walked.  I felt my strength, both physical and magical, returning to me.  We trudged through the horrible mess of ripped flesh and bones, that were once the Queen’s beasts, to the shimmering portal.  James stood by it, urging us to hurry. 

 

Almost there, I stopped, spotting the head of the Queen, lying on the floor.  The expression on her face commanded no pity, even from the most compassionate heart.  I ushered Jyre on ahead to James, as I went to take care of a little business with that head.

 

 

- James:

 

The iron arrow punched through her neck.  Its iron fletching ripped off her head, and the arrow buried itself in the new Gate, which suddenly began to coruscate with power.  Viktoria’s essence rose with the blood pouring from her neck and chest and pulled into itself all the ambient energy of the ritual. 

 

Jyre leaped towards Daneel – the field imprisoning him was collapsing!  As I followed, I realized that parts of the chamber were falling as well.  Jyre somehow summoned the strength to grab Daneel.   Viktoria’s essence  began to coalesce into a new form over the dry brown husk of her former body.  We rushed past her, escaping into the Gate. Daneel grabbed Viktoria’s head, and then discarded it, as Jyre dragged him along.

 

 

- Nightfall:

 

I reached the Gate.  James, shouting loudly over the roar of the dancing energy, said, “We must force the Gate to not let her past!  We can only do it from this side, so we must hurry!  If we go through now, she will be able to follow!”

 

“How?” I shouted, but then my voice went dry.  A huge set of glowing, green, eyes materialized behind James, followed by the rest of the face.  The face of the Queen formed around him, her skin silvery-white, with brilliant veins of energy flowing across the surface. 

 

“Foolish insects, you think you can defeat me? Do you not realize the magnitude of my powers?” The words emanated from all around us, and no sooner had they been spoken, than a tremendous force thrust all of us through the gateway.

 

We landed in a heap on a strange platform, floating in the void.  My interest had to be quickly ripped from the wondrous cosmos that surrounded us, and directed to the menacing face of our enemy, still visible on the other side of the Gate.  She was moving to enter, and once in this plane between realms, she was free to assault any dimension she chose.

 

“Oh no,” James said, “We must run!  Quickly!”

 

“Which path?” I shouted, as a half dozen floating pathways made themselves visible around us.

 

“The gray path!”  shouted James. “The one displayed in the orb!”

 

The entity which the Queen had become came into contact with the Gate.  Her expression of malice changed to shock and pain.  The iron arrow, still lodged within the Gate, came into contact with her being.  Her face distorted violently as she struggled against it, but to little avail.  “She’s trapped!”  I shouted to James and Jyre.  They halted their run, and looked back.

 

Something told me that it would not last, however.  As strong as the magic of the arrow may be, hers was unquestionably stronger, and it was just a matter of time before she broke free.   I made a decision.  “James, Jyre, follow the path, quickly.  I must stay and prevent her from coming through!”

 

“How can you --"

 

I cut James off.  “James, this is the ethereal plane.  I know how to use this place against her.  I can retain her as long as I need to.”

 

“But, I don’t understand, why can you --“

 

I cut him off again. “Go!  I’ll find a way back, I promise!”  Nodding grimly, James grabbed Jyre by the hand and ran.

 

 

- Jyre: Murderer - Day 11: 1:05am

 

She was dead. Dead because of me. Because I had wanted to kill her. I had wanted to shed her blood more than I had ever wanted anything else before. Well, I had done it now. And I wasn't happy. I was disappointed. It had been too easy in the end. I could have been shooting at a tree for all the feeling it brought me. Better if it had been my hand wielding that dagger. Better if I had felt her blood on my skin. Better if I had not killed her at all...

 

There was an agony in my heart that I would rather not have felt. And a voice in my head that spoke but one word. "Murderer," it said. And murderer I was. Not just because I had killed her, but because I had wanted to. By picking up that arrow and using it, I had gone against everything I held true. Life was not mine to take. Life was sacred. A thing to be cherished. Because once life was gone, it was over. Finished.

 

"....I promise."

 

There was something in Daneel's voice that caught my attention, pulling my mind out of the depths into which it had sunk. I was running. James was leading me along a gray path, my hand clutched in his. And Daneel was... I stopped abruptly and spun around. Daneel wasn't here!

 

"James..." I stared at him anxiously, desperate for reassurance. Before he could answer, someone else spoke...

 

 

- Nightfall: The Gray - Day 11: 1:05am

 

After making sure that James and Jyre were leaving, I looked back at the Gate, and the menacing face struggling with all its might to break through.  She was totally within the portal now, not in the Maw of Chaos, and not in the Ethereal Plane.  If there was any place more in limbo then this, she was in it.  I knew I could seal her in, but I lied about one thing.  I would have to stay here forever, to keep it closed.  Was I willing?  Yes.  It’s not like life would end.  This place, though a total departure from what we would consider reality, was a realm nonetheless, and I could indeed live here for as long as I needed.  Was it preferable?  No.

 

“There will be no need,” said a voice over my shoulder.  I quickly glanced behind me to see nine individuals, cloaked in gray.  It was them.  “You have helped us, and so we shall help you.  You may return home.  We shall see that this creature remains trapped within the portal for eternity.”  What could I do?  Something within told me to trust him, just like I always had before.  “You must hurry!” he said hastily.  “The Gateway to your realm will not be open for long!” 

 

I nodded thankfully, and ran down the gray path, only to find James and Jyre standing, waiting for me.  “Quickly,” I told them, “They can handle it from here, we need to get though the gray gateway before it closes!”  Without further explanation, I urged them onward, and we dashed down the path, not caring to look back.

 

 

- James: Still More Questions Then Answers - Day 11: 1:05am

 

I still cannot fully explain why they helped us.  I think they represent a force of Balance – a Balance transcending petty human concerns.  Viktoria’s victory would have upset this.  So, perhaps, might ours.  But this does not fully explain why these seven robed beings intervened at this juncture.  We were going to try to close the Gate.  In all probability, Viktoria was at that time so powerful that Daneel would have failed to block it completely, and would become instead locked in an eternal struggle to prevent Viktoria from using the Gate.  All I can suggest is that the Balance they serve is merciful; and that they turn that mercy towards those who serve their ends.  We had prevented Viktoria from gaining victory and thereby upsetting that Balance, perhaps in the process performing acts forbidden to them by whatever arcane rules may bind them.  And so they granted us our lives. 

 

Dan urged us to run to the gateway leading home before it closed.  I saw little reason to object, since staying in this place would not be a favorable option.  After a short but mad sprint, we found ourselves looking at a large, nondescript, rectangular gray portal.

 

Not caring to take turns, we all leapt through together.

 

 

- Nightfall: Home - Day 11: 1:05am

 

The falling sensation did not last as long as I feared it might.  It only lasted several seconds.  The sensation of slamming into a stone floor, with a few arms and legs that did not quite belong to you to break your fall, or perhaps make it more painful, lasted only a split second, however the pain, added to the existing pain, lasted quite a bit longer.

 

I never thought I would be so happy to see another human face, especially a Hammerite.  We were back in the chamber from which I entered the lava tunnels, on the other side of the chasm.  As fate would have it, we arrived just in time to witness the bridge opening ceremony. 

 

What happened over the next few hours is rather blurry.  I was in bad shape, and beyond exhausted.  I managed to convince Brother Thurm and crew that James and Jyre were prisoners, whom I rescued from the lair of The Faery Queen, formerly known as Viktoria.  On our way back to the surface, I briefed him on our adventure underground, to which he listened with avid interest. 

 

It seemed that the Hammerites had managed to accomplish quite a bit in my absence.  The bridge was constructed, a feat once thought impossible, and the foundation for the tower the captain spoke of was already mostly in place.  With the urgency to dash home and report our victory to the Hammerite council, Thurm had one of the bulldozers quickly stripped down to a simple passenger cart, and he, James, Jyre, several guards, workers, and myself, all traveled the newly constructed road back home.

 

 

- Ghost:  Take the Long Way Home - Day 11: 3:00am

 

“We’ll never get away if this guy keeps following us!” I told Lytha. I stopped, turned around, and began to walk menacingly toward him. 

 

“If you have any plans to live past the next five minutes you’ll get out of my sight!” I screamed at the man as I got closer. He stumbled backwards and then ran away when he got back to his feet.

 

I’m not sure if anyone followed us home, but we took the long way around town through a lot of alleys to try and lose anyone who might be trailing us. By the time we got back to my place my vision was blurry and it was hard to walk, Lytha was holding me up as we rounded the last corner. She opened the door and I collapsed on the couch. My sight faded to blackness as the loss of blood and pain caught up with me.

 

 

- Lytha:  Mission Success - Day 11: 3:00am

 

So we have had it. The High Priest was dead, the temple of the Inquisitor was in flames. Plus, we had escaped. But, Ghost seemed to be in the need of some help, as he was more deeply wounded than he had thought. He was unconscious on the sofa, and blood drizzled from the wound on his shoulder. I stared at him, and wondered about what I should do now. Why had I been so hysterical and aggressive when I thought he was dead? I frowned. He had saved me from Cragscleft.  Even though he did it for money, the deed was the same.  He had been kind. I... I had caused a great deal of chaos in his apartment, and left without a word. If I left now again, he might die. The paleness in his face and the huge amount of blood that he had lost were obvious indicators of that. How much blood was in the body of a human? Hmm, I had no idea about that. Maybe he would die, maybe not. “You can't kill a Ghost” he had said. Well, maybe he was right, maybe not. But why the heck had I been so touched from the thought that he was dead? Well, I had no idea, I tried to convince myself. Maybe I could use him as an anchor in the next days, as Thalia had been in my entire life. As someone who gave me both a reason to continue this life and not to get mad. Maybe. I sighed, and sat beneath him on the sofa to inspect the wound.

 

The wound did not look good. I could see a particle stuck in the flesh, an odd small metal thing. It did not look like an arrow head or a crossbow bolt, but I knew that projectiles should be removed from the wounds. I found another dagger somewhere below my cloak, and wondered how many daggers I had taken from Koyne. Then I started to dig the dagger in the open flesh on Ghost's shoulder to remove that particle. He moaned and opened his eyes. As I dug the dagger deeper to move the blade below the metal thing, he screamed aloud and went unconscious again. I removed the thing, and put it on the table, to have a look at it later.

 

Now I tried to remember what I had learned about wounds like this one. I remembered that someone had said that it was useful to put alcohol on the wound, so I went to the kitchen to find a bottle with something useful. From the bath I took a towel, and went back to him.

 

Ghost was still unconscious. I took care of the wound, and used the towel to stop the bleeding. This looked better now, I thought. I decided to let him sleep, and to give him the healing potion that I had stolen from Koyne as soon as he awoke.

 

Now I realized that my own body ached from my toes to my head. No wonder after that day, if I remembered that I had been almost dead a not so long ago. I wondered about the fact that I was still alive after all this stuff. And I wondered what would happen next.

 

I yawned, and went to the bedroom where I fell into the bed and asleep after some minutes.

 

I woke up again.  I didn’t know how much time had passed.  "Are you feeling better now?" I asked, and looked at Ghost.

 

I wasn’t surprised, he did not answer. His face was still very pale, but the towel had stopped the bleeding from his shoulder. He was deep asleep, but he looked slightly better than last evening.

 

It was still night, late at night. And I had had one of these nightmares, again, but somehow different.  The cohesion was gone. They would most probably torture me in the next few weeks.

 

I convinced myself that there were no other people in the apartment than him and me -- especially no Hammerites or dead persons. All was quiet, but the fear from the nightmare was still there. And I convinced myself that the door was still locked. It was. I glanced nervously through the window, and saw that the streets were almost empty now. No Hammerites who peered into the windows, and no dead sisters, who would point their rotting fingers at me and start shouting again. Everything was peaceful and quiet now.

 

I wondered if it was a good idea, but I crawled to Ghost under the blanket on the sofa. With my arm on his chest, I fell asleep.

 

 

- Nightfall: Return to The City - Day 11: 8:00am

 

It was well past dawn when the walls of The City loomed into view.  We drove up to the city gate, but to our surprise, found no one there to greet us.  Only a few common guards stood by the gate.  Bewildered, but not daunted, we pressed on, at full speed, towards the Grand Cathedral in Town Square.  When we approached, a group of Hammerite guards dashed towards our position.  I could tell by their urgency that something was terribly amiss. 

 

They wasted no time in presenting the news.  The High Priest and the Grand Inquisitor were both dead.  The Inquisitor’s temple lay in ruins, and they had a thief to blame for it all.  I roused James and Jyre from their sleep (I don’t know how they managed to sleep riding in this rumbling hulk), and the Hammers treated them to some refreshments while Thurm and I attended an emergency meeting of the Hammerite Council.   The meeting lasted for hours.  I stayed quiet through most of it, far too tired to think too much about such things.

 

In the end they drew an alarming conclusion.  It was logical, of course, and did indeed solve many of their problems, but it had far too many hints of chaos to it.  They elected a new High Priest on the spot, Brother Borimeir, a frail old man with very few opinions, and a very even temperament.  He was quite a contrast from the fiery High Priest who had been a thorn in my side for the past months.  It was good and bad in a way; good in that I wouldn’t be at constant strife with the High Priest anymore, and bad in that I may have far too much room to get sloppy now.

 

Thurm told them all my tale, though his version was a little different then the one I gave him.  I actually liked it better, so I didn’t offer to correct any of the details.  This is how legends are born and history is written.  After praising me to no end, and awarding me several metals of courage, honor, and whatnot, they finally let me go home. 

 

To my delight, waiting outside the cathedral doors was Richen, standing proudly before my shiny new stagecoach, exactly how I had ordered it.  I didn’t inquire as to how this all too perfect arrangement was set up, and I didn’t necessarily care, I was just happy to be going home in style.  Jyre, who had not said a single word since we left the Maw, and James,  climbed in with me, and Richen drove us slowly home.

 

 


Chapter 25 - Correspondence Closed

 

- Ghost: Return to The City - Day 11: 5:00pm

 

Light returned as I tried to open my eyes. Some noise in the room inspired me to try to wake up.  Then the pain hit me all at once. I wasn't sure if I had died in the fight with the High Priest.  All I know is that I was hurting all over.  This must be what death feels like, I thought to myself jokingly.  Lytha was there, smiling slightly as I opened my eyes. She looked more calm than she had in the past few days. Without so much as a word she handed me a small note which read "Meet at Master Nightfall’s tower tonight at dusk."

 

I tried to sit up. I was met with difficulty since one arm was bandaged heavily, and any movement made the wrapping tighten. Lytha helped me sit up and got a glass of water.  I tried to focus on the things around me. No words were exchanged.  There wasn't a lot to talk about. She knew I was in bad shape and I didn't really have any questions burning through my head at the moment.

 

That was an hour ago. Now dressed in the same blood-stained pants I had worn the night before, and my arm in a sling, we were ready to go see Nightfall, so I could get paid.  We walked into the streets.  The atmosphere seemed different.  Maybe it was just that the sun was up, which is an odd sight for me.  No, something really seemed different.  We arrived at the base of Nightfall’s tower when it hit me.  We hadn't seen one Hammer patrol anywhere. Perhaps things were looking up after all.

 

After what seemed like an eternity of climbing, we reached the door. Lytha knocked and the door was opened by Nightfall’s stuffy old butler.

 

"Master Nightfall is expecting you; sir," was all he said before turning and walking into the dark foyer, then through the far passageway.  He lead us through the twisting hallways and rooms, with lots of closed doors.  Finally he opened one of those doors.  Jossimer walked in and announced to the room, "Mister, ahem, Ghost and the Mistress Lytha have arrived, Master." With a sneer he looked my way and then went back to doing whatever butlers do when they aren't annoying people.  Lytha and I slowly entered the darkened living room.  Nightfall was standing in front of the fireplace, and approached us with a quick walk.  There were others in the room I didn't recognize. An older man stood near Nightfall’s desk and a younger girl stood near the door, almost hiding from me.

 

"Ahh Ghost, come in! This is Lytha I presume?" Nightfall always sounded a little too happy most of the time, for my liking.   His cheeriness, however, was cut short as he did a double take at Lytha.  “Lytha?” he said with a very puzzled look on his face.

 

Lytha stepped forward before I could get my stomach out of my throat.  I had a horrible  oh shit  feeling, as a result of Nightfall’s reaction to the person he supposedly asked me to rescue!  “Yes, I am Lytha,” she said in a voice I had never heard come from her.  It was almost calm sounding!  “Have we met?” she said, just as confused as he looked.

 

“I received a letter from you, from, from an old woman, named Lytha, who lived in the forest,” he said, offering her a seat.  She didn’t budge.

 

“Oh,” she said, “Thalia, my sister, used my name.”

 

“I see,” he said.

 

“Why did you have Ghost rescue me?” she asked (I’m glad she did, because I would have forgotten to).

 

“Because you, well, your sister, warned me about the true nature of The Lady; that she was actually,” he paused, “that she was much more dangerous then we could have known.  I sent a,” he stopped again.  “The knowledge of this came into the possession of the Hammerites, who in turn went to the Lodge of the Lady, and captured you.” 

 

Lytha nodded, a pained look in her eyes.  He then looked at me and then to the elderly man.  The older man nodded and walked up to me.  Nightfall and Lytha talked in hushed voices.  I would have tried to listen in but this old guy was approaching me.  Not another butler, I hoped. 

 

 

- Lytha:  The Mysterious Master Nightfall - Day 11: 7:00pm

 

Nightfall approached me.  I found myself slightly fearful of what he was going to say.  I knew that I already must know some of the story.  The other man took Ghost to the other side of the room, keeping him out of earshot to Nightfall’s hushed tone.

 

“The things I have to tell you I’d rather not share with my hire.  It’s not so much a matter of security as a matter of privacy.  I sense that he has a good sense of honor amongst thieves, so he can be trusted to an extent, but not with the knowledge I must share with you.”

 

I nodded slowly.  What news of Thalia did he have?

 

“I have come to understand that your sister, Thalia, warned me about a great danger that threatened this city.  This great danger was, of course, The Lady, who is known to those who know her as ‘The Faery Queen’.”

 

I felt slightly cold as names from my sister’s mutterings were spoken.  “Don’t worry, I have dealt with this enemy, and it’s a long story fit for another time.  I must, however, tell you why I had Ghost over there rescue you.”

 

I nodded again, anxious to hear.

 

“Your sister signed the letter in your name on purpose.  She knew that if you warned me, that I would send the Hammerites, and then you would be in danger.  She wanted me to think that you were the one who had warned me, so I would send someone to rescue you, should you come into danger.”

 

I blinked, not fully believing what I was hearing.

 

“I, feeling responsible, and I was, for your abduction by these men, issued a prize for your rescue.”

 

“I see,” I said, not fully knowing what to make of it.  I looked him in the eyes.  His eyes were dark, and steady.  I knew he was being totally honest with me.  For a split second, I thought I saw a faint glimmer of light in his pupils.

 

Can you hear me?  he said, or at least I thought he said, for his lips did not move!  Puzzled, I replied in the same fashion.

 

Yes, I can, how are you speaking to me like this?  His voice in my head was unlike the others.  His was calm and rational, and of course, masculine. 

 

I have a small amount of residual power left.  I can speak to you like this only because it is possible for you to hear me like this. 

 

I don’t understand, I replied.  He was not entering into my mind at all, nor was I entering his.  It was surprisingly unalarming.

 

You have the ability to hear thought.  Most of what you hear are echoes of your sub-conscious, or ghosts.  Sometimes, however, other minds, living ones, can infiltrate yours.

 

Somehow I knew where this was all going.  There was one voice, one that did not belong, I told him.

 

Yes, this was the Faery Queen.  Though I’m sure she never made it apparent, but she was using you to do her bidding.  I know that this may be shocking for you to hear, but you must know.

 

I was too empty of feeling to muster any anger for this.  I was just tired, glad it was over, and glad that the horrible voices, the source of which I now knew, were gone.  Thank you for telling me this, was all I could think to say.

 

He began to turn away, with a nod of acceptance, but I spoke again, How can you know all this?

 

He seemed to sigh.  I don’t really “know”.  A good deal of it came from speculation, and some from evidence.  The rest was just deduction.  I reasoned the vast majority of it just now, when I finally had access to the rest of the story, and was able to test my theory of your powers.

 

You have these powers too?  I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

 

No, he replied.  I am talking to you through magic, not with my mind power.  Soon my magic will vanish, since it is not natural to this realm.  I can only do such things as this for a little while.

 

I see, I said again.  What is to become of me?  I asked.

 

I have no sovereignty over you.  It is for you to decide.  If you wish, I can give you any help that you need.

 

I smiled.  I shall consider it, I told him.

 

At that, the connection broke with a slight jerk. 

 

 

- Ghost:  More Old Jerks - Day 11: 7:00pm

 

The elderly man looked as if he was about to try and offer some assistance, but with a short growl from me he backed off.  “Have it your way, but do you want your payment or do you not?”  he said, almost smugly.  I would have socked him, but I did need my pay.

 

“Well it’s about time!” I snapped back, grinning a little. The girl moved over behind the man, now obviously trying to keep something between her and myself.  I looked back at him and said, “Didn’t catch your name, Mister?”

 

“James.  I’m sorry about our absence,” the man continued, “Master Nightfall and I had pressing matters to take care of.”

 

“Yes, so did we; you can see the results of it smoking across town.” I couldn’t help but grin about a job well done, and to be honest I was still happy to be alive after it.  Uh, maybe I should not have just told him that.  Oops.

 

James sighed, looking exhausted and quietly muttered “That produced some; interesting results.”  I was going to ask him what he was talking about but I was distracted by him opening a drawer in the desk and placing several large bags of coins on the table.

 

“These are for you.” James said, closing the drawer. I eyed the bags, but left them on the desk until I was ready to leave, since holding those with one arm would be a bit hard.  The guy cleared his throat and spoke up. “Could you describe the reason for your decision to kill the High Priest?”

 

“What are you, the Inquisitor’s heir?”  I barked.

 

“Please, from a fellow member of your profession, I’d like to know.”

 

I frowned and told him, since I really didn’t have much more to hide.  “I decided to get a little revenge on the Hammers for what they do to anyone they don’t like, and for what they did to Lytha.”  I decided not to tell him about that woman from the ally which prodded me to do it.  I didn’t do it for her anyway.

 

“I see.” He said. I noticed Nightfall, done talking with Lytha, smile at James, shaking his head. What is it with these people? I couldn’t help but feel like my huge adventure was just a slice of the pie, and that there was a fat chance of these folks letting me in on what was really going on.

 

I turned back to James, tapping his shoulder to get his attention.  “Anyway, on the way out of the temple we ran into the High Priest, and decided he was too bad to get away.”

 

James’ look turned serious. “That was an important decision.” He told us both, Lytha and I.

 

Nightfall, as if suddenly remembering he had something else to do or was just trying to get rid of me spoke up. “Well Ghost, it was a pleasure doing business with you, perhaps some other time.”

 

“Well,” I replied “maybe next time I’ll politely say no and walk away.” The room broke into assorted forced chuckles as I collect the bags from the desk.

 

James, with a tired smile asked, “Mr. Ghost, is advice as unwelcome as medical attention?”


“Sure go for it. I'm too tired to kill anyone right now.” I laughed and waited for his words of wisdom.

 

“Next time, make sure you know who you are working for. All the people you're working for.”

 

I looked at him dumbfounded. “I was working for myself, and that guy over there.  Your boss.”


“Shh, James, leave it alone.” Nightfall interrupted with a whisper. James nodded in agreement.  Now I was really sure they were hiding something.

 

I grabbed the bags and headed for the door. It opened in front of me. At first I thought it was magic, but it seemed that Jeeves was just coming in.

 

“Oh are you leaving?” he asked “Well good day, and good riddance to you.” He stepped into the room past me to do something.  We walked through a few hallways on our way out.  Giving into a nagging feeling, I gave the bags to Lytha, and took a slight detour.  I wanted to teach Jeeves a lesson in better housekeeping.

 

I found him in a quiet hall putting the cap back on a tin flask, which he quickly shoved back into his vest at the sight of me.  The arrogant servant went back to his dusting, pretending that he had been doing that all along.  I walked up to him, making sure to thump as much mud on the carpet as possible.  When my chest was inches from his shoulder, he turned to face me with a look of disdain on his face, just in time to see my fist swinging at his mouth. He fell to the floor in a heap, a trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth.

 

“Sorry,” I told him, “had to be done.” I turned and walked to the door with Lytha, who was more then slightly amused.

 

 

- Nightfall:  Jyre - Day 11: 7:30pm

 

It looked as if life would be returning to normal quite quickly.  After such an adventure, though relatively short, it was very good to be in my home once again.  There was, however, a few things yet to be resolved.  One of them was hiding in a shadow in the corner.

 

I walked up to Jyre slowly.  She was standing in a dark part of the room, behind the couch.  I didn't know how else to go about this, so I was blunt. "Jyre, I'd like it if you lived here in the tower." She just stared at me, a look of disbelief in her eyes.  I walked up beside her, and crouched down, putting her head slightly above mine.  “Please?”

 

She spoke, in a very meek voice, “But, why?”

 

I replied with a simple and true fact.  “I owe you. You saved my life.”  Okay, the second part was a fact, but the fist could be disputed.  She did, after all, try to kill me, and her saving me would make everything even.  However I didn’t feel like scrutinizing details at that moment.  I added with a smile, “and aside from that, I would enjoy having you around,” to give a touch of gentle humanity to my plea.

 

She just shook her head.  She began to ring her hands as she whispered “I killed her,” over and over, softly to herself. 

 

I shook my head sadly, and sighed.  I considered which she deal better with?  The idea that she killed The Lady, or the fact that The Lady is still alive?

 

Suddenly, she spoke. "And I... I messed it all up. I was supposed to be helping you not making things worse!"  She looked up at me, a look in her eyes like she was about to cry.

 

I did all I knew to do.  I put my arms around her and hugged her tightly.

 

“You didn't,” I said simply, “we could not have done it without you.”

 

“But I... All I did was panic and not think!” she insisted.  “I don't deserve this,” she said finally, and pulled away from me.

 

I found that her action saddened me more then I expected.  “This place will always be open to you, if you change your mind,” I told her.

 

Jyre looked around for several seconds.  She then looked at me. "I don't want to go...” She looked confused and exhausted when she said this.

 

“I have a room for you,” I told her, “you can sleep there tonight, and decide in the morning.”

 

"I..." she shrugged. "Do you really think I helped?"

 

“Undoubtedly,” I said, as earnestly as I could muster.  It’s not that it wasn’t true, I just needed to be sure that she would accept it as truth.

 

“Why... Why do you want me to stay?  I'm just a kid.”  At that, she plopped down on the floor.

 

I didn’t have to ponder too hard for the reason. “Because you deserve a better life?”

 

“I don't deserve any life.”

 

I didn’t like the sound of that at all.  “Even if you had truly killed her, she was not a person; she was a monster,” I pleaded.

 

“It's not that, it's what I felt inside,” she said as she stared at her clammy fingers.

 

“What did you feel?” I asked, honestly concerned.

 

Jyre shrugged. "Just..." She looked me in the eyes. "I don't know! Like,” she paused for a second or two, “like I was gonna enjoy killing her!"

 

“And you didn't, of course,” trying to follow where she was taking this conversation.

 

“But I wanted to.”

 

“I know the feeling,” I said, with all too much honesty.

 

Jyre shook her head. "Not you, you're --" she stopped.

 

I waited a while to see if she was going to continue, “I'm?”  She just shook her head.  “What?”

 

“You're; you feel; different,” she said suddenly.

 

“I'm listening, please, go on,”

 

“You're not like everyone else.  There's just something about you. It’s like, I can sense things, like when I'm using my bow.  I feel what they are, and you, you just feel different.”

 

I smiled at this.  “Well I am.  Just like everyone is.  Some of us are different in odd ways though.”

 

“What ways?” she said quickly.

 

I saw the opportunity and took it.  “Would you like to know more about me?”

 

She nodded slowly.

 

“Then live here. And in time, you shall get to know me.”

 

She hesitated for a second, then nodded again.  I smiled, satisfied.  “May I show you to your room, now?”

 

 

- Jyre:  A New Beginning - Day 11: 7:40pm

 

I watched his back as he took his leave, and listened to the sound of his footsteps as they faded away.  I was too tired to fully take in what had happened.  The events of the last day or so were already starting to feel like a dream, although the ache in my gut would long remain to remind me that it had been real.  As for being here, I was certain that come tomorrow I would wake and find it all to be in my imagination.

 

I crossed over to the window and gazed down at the city below, with its scattering of streetlights starting to illuminate the sky as the sun's light grew dim. There was still smoke rising in the distance. A result of the actions of Ghost -- whoever he was. His presence here had disturbed me, but beyond that I had no opinion of him. I sighed and stared at the golden light that danced across the roof tiles of the nearest houses, wondering what it would be like for me now, both down below in the streets where I had once lived; and up here, with Daneel.

 

I felt my eyelids begin to droop. The muscles in my side spasmed. Wondering could wait. I needed to sleep. I didn't even bother to strip out of my filthy rags before I hauled back the cover and fell into the soft bed. I shuddered slightly, curled up into a ball around the pain and closed my eyes to the world.

 

 

- James:  Finding Order in the Chaos - Day 11: 9:90pm

 

Lytha and Ghost left. Dan helped Jyre move into another room, and he eventually returned. Soon we heard her snoring softly. Jossimer, looking the worse for wear, came with tea and asked to be excused for the night. Daneel assented with a tired nod, and we both turned to the tea. Perfectly made, as always.  We spent several minutes drinking in silence.

As I moved to refill my cup, I asked, "Had enough of adventuring for a while?"

Dan smiled slightly. "I'd say I've had my fill."

I thought a bit, and mused, "Yet I think we are not yet done with them. There are a lot of loose ends." I stared into my teacup, pondering.

"They always seem to pop up.  Not to mention the fact that old habits die hard.”  I said that too often.  “I used to love doing that kind of stuff, once upon a time, when I was even more young and foolish then I am today." He, too, looked at his tea, then asked, "What the hell happened back there anyway? I have a vague idea; but I would like to hear your thoughts."

I thought a bit more, then began to think out loud. "I think darling Viktoria decided that if she couldn't beat us, she'd join us. Viktoria and the Trickster were always forces of chaos -- but chaos comes in many forms. The methods of the wood are fading; the Hammer's tools are gaining an increasing ascendancy over mere wood and waters. But in our new technologies there is room for chaos to strike: think of those chants she had.  “From the pages Chaos leers.”

Dan shook his head and replied, "I couldn't hear too well."

"She intended to corrupt the technology. Think about this: how often do steam boilers fail?"

Dan looked at me. "Aside from when large trees fall on them?"

"Right. They almost never do. Unless the calculations are really flawed, they contain the pressures for which they are designed."

"Hmm..."

"So what if a ‘chaos elf’ -- perhaps a ‘gremlin’ -- infects the boiler's plating during its forging?"

"Sometimes bad things do happen," stated Dan.

"I think they'll happen more. The ghosts in the machines now have a leader. Viktoria has deserted the wood, and, so to speak, chaos has embraced the technology. I'll bet my Hammerite copier device works even worse now."

"She's trapped for now though, hopefully forever, but something tells me that her bonds are not quite enough to keep her all the way out."

"Yes. She'll find a way to influence us -- indirectly, perhaps, possibly only through our dreams -- but through dreams she can recruit agents, and through agents, power; with that power, who knows? We'll need to stay on guard," I warned.

 

“Well, one of the main things that worries me, about myself personally, is how easily I was nearly killed time and again.  I mean, Jyre should not have been able to nearly kill me.  I should not have fallen into the vine trap in the temple.  I shouldn’t have been taken by surprise on the ledge, at that last moment.  I don’t care how upset or distracted I was, the way I behaved was just wrong.  What came over me, do you suppose?”

 

I shook my head with a slight chuckle, “You’re still human, Dan, as much as you would like to be rid of the fact.  Even you are not immune to error.  I think that the fact that you charged off to fight this battle alone, even after Jyre helped you prove to yourself how poor your state of mind was, is testament to that.”  Dan seemed to be quite displeased with himself after I said this.

 

“Perhaps I have not gained as much wisdom over the years as I like to think I have.”

 

“Well, a great key to wisdom is understanding how very little you actually understand,” I said, and then quickly tried to think up of at least half a dozen things I didn’t understand. 

 

“Well,” he said, interrupting my pointless contemplation, ”we do learn more from our mistakes then our successes”

 

“That’s a pleasant way of putting it,” I said with a smirk.

"Getting back to the true subject, there is one thing that has always bugged me.  Is this creature, the Faery Queen, Viktoria as you call her, evil, without a doubt?  Her attitude seemed to go beyond simple chaos and into true evil."

"Not ‘evil’ per se, chaotic. Chaos may seem evil to people like us, but it’s no more evil then a ferocious rabid animal.  Keep in mind that pure order is as ‘evil’ as pure chaos. If the Builder truly was victorious we would find ourselves in perfect stasis."

He did not seem content with my answer. He then said; "Everything is relative.  Is not love a force of chaos?”

"Yes." I grinned. "And of order, since it is a part of our society’s structure.  We live in the gray area between the two forces -- and need both."

"Ah, of course, the extreme is invariably bad, and the mixing is invariably good, at least in part, in theory, anyway"

"In theory. ‘Good’ and ‘bad’ -- morality -- exists in our choices. I can use a knife to cut my lunch -- or a throat. The knife is not itself at fault. Similarly, life exists in a intertwined position; love may be chaotic in its choices of pairings, yet it causes a form of social order and often reinforces it; and despite its strange excesses, it helps the process of maintaining the species."

Dan sighed. "I'm just trying to make sense of things, motives, you know, the big question of why?"

"I don't think ‘why’ is even a question for Viktoria.  She is, and her being is chaos, much as the Builder is order.  In a sense, they are both our tools. What we do with the possibilities they offer is up to us.  Though I admit," I grinned, "it may often not feel much like we use them when their plots surround us!"

"Hmmm.  ‘Why’ is a question I should reserve for Jyre’s role then.  Why was she the key to most of this?  How could so many coincidences, set off by her, lead to all of this? The Keepers would just say; 'it was fate'."

"Yes, they would. If I might offer an observation: there is an irony in this. You could look at the manner in which Jyre expressed her love for you as a form of chaos -- but chaos destroys all it touches, which is why love is also partly an orderly thing, being essentially a means of preservation. In the end, Jyre's actions, borne of love, brought us to the ceremony, and her desperation to save you killed the avatar of chaos."

Dan sat in silence, thinking on this. Another thought struck me, and I went on.  "The unanswerable 'why' I often ponder is the purpose of the robed beings we met, who ‘saved the day’ as it were. Why would they save us? Do they serve a balance?"

Dan shook his head. "I'm not sure.  They asked me to cleanse their home, the labyrinth, of evil, yet I did little to cleanse the place, and it was obviously not their home.  They said that they helped us in return for the help I gave them."

I mused aloud, "It is often the case that the most powerful beings are also the least able to act -- bound by arcane rules which we cannot hope to fathom. Perhaps they, too, need tools that can place events into a configuration which they can exert themselves to alter. Possibly their entire intent was for us to bring Viktoria, wounded, to that Gate. There, in the guise of rescuing us -- and perhaps rescue is a legal move in their esoteric chess game -- they could strike at Viktoria and mold her into their fancy.

Dan continued the thought, "And having no interest in moral ethics, they saw no need to say anything to me other then what they felt would best cause me to reach the desired conclusion."

"Yes," I agreed

Dan gave me a worried look. I responded with a grim smile.  “Perhaps the most devious plot was not spun by the Queen at all, but by these beings?  Do they want her as a servant?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "I suspect they want her contained. It is possible they have no morals: but they serve a goal, and if the goal is balance, they may well serve life. We exist in the balance; and thus they may want to ensure that neither Viktoria nor the Builder ever gain ascendancy."

 

“Hmm, or perhaps not.  What if we put a tool of total chaos into the hands of beings of total evil?  What then?”

 

“Well, since we can do nothing about it, I suppose the best thing to do would be to just hope for the best, and not worry about it,” I said, in all honesty.


Dan yawned. "These concepts are too worrisome for my exhausted mind." He shook his head to clear it. "Ugh. I need to get some sleep. I suggest you do the same. I do hope you shall write all this down?"

I grinned, "Can do, Dan. But one last thing."

"Hmm?"

"You can look at the Builder and Viktoria -- order and chaos – as having conducted a war, with humanity as the battleground. We take losses in this war -- sometimes grievous losses."  I looked bleakly at Daneel. "And our only hope of winning rests in the war never ending."

I drained my teacup. No words seemed appropriate to the occasion; we bowed to each other, and I left for home.

 


EPILOGUE

 

- Nightfall:  One Final Meeting - Day 11: 11:50pm

 

I slowly climbed the stairs to my bedchamber.  I had not touched The Circle in days, so I knew that tomorrow would bring a load of work.  Maybe I would take the day off, just to recuperate.  I’m sure that Sheam would not mind a little extra responsibility around the place.  I pulled open my doors and stepped in.  Everything was exactly the same I had left it.  Rather then jump into bed, which I so wanted to do, I made my way slowly to the balcony, and stepped out.  There was one last matter to speak of, and it was time to take care of it.  One of the things I did as soon as I got home was send a message.  By now it was nearly midnight, and the recipient should be responding shortly.

 

“You wished the speak with me?” came a voice from beside me.

 

I did not bother to turn my head to look at the source.  I knew I would not see a thing.  “Word travels fast in the underground,” I said, resting my hand on the gargoyle, perched on the stone rail of the balcony.

 

“Your word travels fast,” he said in reply. 

 

Nodding, and with a half smile I replied, “Indeed.  Being who I am, when I speak, people listen; and when others speak, I listen.”

           

I felt him come closer.  “What do you want?” he asked bluntly.

 

I turned to face the figure, now silhouetted in the moonlight.  “My my, Mr. Garrett, you do so excel in getting to the point, do you not?   Have you no love for the art of dialog?”

 

“You wouldn’t have called me here to your tower if you didn’t have a reason, Nightfall.  I’m asking you what it is.  If you just called me here to talk, then I’m afraid I will have to be on my way.” A distant lightning bolt shot across the sky, slightly illuminating his blank expression, and reflecting brilliantly off his bionic eye.

 

I turned away, looking out across the great expanse of the city, the Hammerite factories pushing the skyline higher and higher. “You’re going to have to do something about the way that fancy eye of yours shines.  The smallest ounce of light sparkles on its surface.”

 

He responded with deep frustration in his voice.  “Tell me something I don’t know.”  He paused.  “A friend of mine is working on a permanent solution.” He paused again.  “Why do you mention it?”

 

I smiled. “Just making; conversation, my friend.”

 

His eyes narrowed.  “I’m not here for conversation, and I’m not your friend.  What do you want from me?  Do you have a job for me?  If not, I’m leaving.  Now.”  He pulled a rope arrow out of his quiver and made ready to shoot it into the wooden beam overhead, allowing him a quick trip to the stone path below.

 

“The High Priest is dead.”  I said, still facing away from him.

 

He stopped.  “So?” No reply from me came.  “Good, the bastard had it coming.”  He put the arrow to bowstring.

 

I turned to face him.  “Did you kill him?”

           

He stopped again, lowering the bow. “Why are you asking me?  I thought you hear everything.  What have your spies told you?”

           

“I’m not asking my spies, I’m asking you.  Did you kill him?”

           

He put away the arrow.  “No, I didn’t.  I haven’t set foot in any Hammer compound in months.” 

           

“Are you sure?”

           

“What kind of question is that?  I remember the face of ever man I kill.  There is no question of sureness about it.” He seemed quite offended at the prospect.  “I’m no assassin, Nightfall, killing those I rob makes for bad business, and killing high ranking Hammerites is never a good idea.  They have a nasty tendency to exact revenge, which they try to call ‘justice’, because the word sounds more noble.”  He paused.  “Besides, the Hammers hold me in good favor at the moment.”

 

“Then why, my good thief, are they making it known that he was killed by an arrow to the throat, shot by your bow, held by your hands?”

           

His wandering vision looked straight into my eyes.  The aperture of his eye narrowed with a hum.  “What?”

 

I just nodded.

 

“Hammers don’t lie,” he said; “much.”

 

“It seems that now they do.”

 

“Enough games, Nightfall, what the hell is going on here?”

 

“Last night, two thieves broke into the Temple of the Inquisitor.  They came in separately, with different objectives, and left together.  Along the way, they killed the High Priest, the Inquisitor, and half the Hammerites in the building, as well as set fire to the place.  The Hammerites, horrified that two simple thieves could cause such destruction, decided that the only way to save themselves from public shame was to blame you, Garrett, slayer of the Trickster.  He who can kill a god is capable of much, you see, or so they hope the people will see.  While there is shame in falling before a meek foe, there is little shame in falling before a powerful one.  Of course, this killed two birds with one stone.  With you blamed for this, they no longer had to respect you for killing the Trickster.”

 

“Who?” he said simply.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Who were the thieves?”

 

“It’s not in my business to give out names, Mr. Garrett,” I said sternly.  He began to pace slowly, saying nothing. 

 

“It’s not like it changes anything,” he said, “and I knew the Hammerites were just itching for an excuse to have me imprisoned and executed.  They never could forgive me for doing what they could not.”  He smiled after saying this, as if recalling something.  “So you did nothing to alter this plan?”

 

“What could I do?  Do you really expect me to risk my neck for a man who can more then take care of himself?”

 

He harrumphed to that.  “Was this all you had to tell me?”

 

“Well, tell, yes, but show, no.”  I reached into my pocket, removed a small sphere, and tossed it to him.  He caught it, and then opened his grasp to look at it, holding it in the light.

 

It was a small shiny sphere, which resembled a misty green gem.  “I have little interest in baubles, Nightfall.  I steal them and sell them. What is this?”

 

“An eye,” I replied.

 

A look of disgust crossed over his face.  “I’ve had enough of gemstones and eyes,” he said, as he made ready to throw it over the rail.

 

“Viktoria’s eye.”

 

He stopped cold.  Slowly he turned to look at me, and I nodded, a smile crossing my face.  He opened his hand again to look at it.  He just gazed at it for at least a minute, studying it intently.  “How..?” he said eventually.

 

“I took it from her -- personally.  I thought you might like it.”

 

Time passed slowly, as Garrett examined it.  After a while, I noticed that he was no longer looking at it, but through it, deep in thought.  He eventually gave a slight shudder and quickly pocketed the eye.   “Thanks,” he muttered.

 

“My pleasure” I replied.  I’m not sure if he heard it or not, since he was gone as soon as he said “thanks”.  Once in the shadows, and on the move, Garrett could be anywhere.  I wondered what he would do with that eye. 

 

I walked back into my chamber, and closed the glass doors to the balcony behind me.  I drew closed the curtain, and the room was cast in darkness, only illuminated by the blue flame of my oil lantern.  I glanced over by the wardrobe where little Jyre had sat, so many nights ago.  I walked over and stood in the dark shadow, just to make sure she had not snuck in.  It was silly to do, I know, but I did it anyway. 

 

Well Dan, I thought to myself, you’ve gone up against a chaotic deity, and won, not without nearly getting yourself killed, of course.  I suppose that made up for at least some past losses.  How ironic that now, when it was all over, and I was finally back in the peace of my own chambers, that I would realize a subtle detail that was really quite profound.  I really cared for this land as if it were my home.  I didn’t fight this fight for fame, fortune, adventure, or because I was ordered to, I did it because I needed to, because I needed to protect this place in which I lived.  So then it dawned on me, then, that I really belonged here.

 

I was still dressed in the clothing I had worn all though the adventure.  It wasn’t that bad, for wear and tear.  The cloak was shredded here and there, one of the sleeves was torn, and it bore many other little rips and breaks, but it was definitely salvageable.  I was never actually seriously wounded, so there was little blood on my person.  I laughed, realizing that I looked as shabby as Jyre always did.  After a quick shower, I went to bed.

 

I was anxious to contact the enchantress, Cristen, my love, and tell her of my grand adventure.  As I felt my mind drift into sleep, I awaited her voice.  That night, however, she never came.

 

THE END