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First Draft

Eric drove the wagon through the tunnel into the circular canyon that hid Suderpol. The sky above was a brilliant clear blue, with only a few light clouds drifting by, a sharp contrast to the dark stone of the sheer canyon walls that encircled the lake and the island that held the town of Suderpol. On the far side of the ring canyon, two miles away, Eric could see signs of a rockslide that had partially collapsed the tall canyon wall. Even where the wall had collapsed, the canyon was over thirty paces deep.

The island itself was nearly a mile in diameter. The town proper was on the near side of the island, surrounded by a ten-pace-tall wall with towers. Beyond the town, Eric saw the tilled fields of a grain crop. On the far end of the island was a small hill that had a crater at its peak. A wisp of steam lazily wafted from the crater, swirled about by the gentle breeze inside the hidden canyon.

Between the town and the near shore stretched two large ropes. Each rope was anchored near a gatehouse in the town's walls and anchored on the nearby lake shore. Two barges, one on each end of the ropes, waited. Several buildings on the near shore near the barge docks showed signs of habitation.

Eric guided the wagon down a trail in the dark sand, switching back and forth until the wagon reached the shoreline. He glanced back at his passengers and at the other wagon as his wagon reached the first of the outbuildings. He noticed with a start that Breanna's hair was a pale gold color. Rishala, riding in the bed of the wagon next to Breanna, noticed Eric's expression. He glanced at Breanna and grinned. As Eric turned to face forward again, he saw Bilbus's grin.

As he stopped the wagon near the barge, one of the eight burly men resting in the barge rose to greet them.

"Are you taking the wagons across, or just the people?" he asked gruffly in the trade tongue. "One silver Shekal per wagon, four copper Tralack for just the people."

"Wagons," Eric replied. He offered a pair of coins to the supervisor.

The supervisor inspected the coins before pocketing them, then barked orders to his men. The men helped Eric and the Church Knight driving the second wagon to load both vehicles on the barge. Once both wagons were secured, the eight bargemen took positions next to the rope that lay on the deck. To a shout of "Ee-yot!", the bargemen pulled on the rope. The barge moved slowly towards the Suderpol gatehouse.

As the supervisor kept calling "Ee-yot!", the other barge's crew began to pull their wagon across from Suderpol to the outer shoreline.

"They keep one barge at each end," Eric noted as the two barges slowly closed with one another.

Breanna muttered to Rishala, "What are they saying? It sounds elven."

Rishala nodded. "Aye. It sounds like 'eeyoat', which means 'pull'. Considering this town is associated with the drow..." His voice trailed off.

Breanna suppressed a shudder.

Eric looked around at the canyon walls. "Bilbus, do you see any guards on the canyon? If we need you and Rishala to get us out of here quickly, we don't want to have a run in with them as we're going over the top."

Bilbus likewise looked around. "No. There aren't guards, or they aren't openly patrolling."

"Maybe they are short on personnel?" Eric wondered.

After twenty minutes, the barge bumped against the Suderpol dock. With help from the bargemen, Eric rolled the wagon onto the short stretch of paving stones between the dock and the gatehouse. The gatehouse was just a couple of paces from the dock, and no guards manned the open gates. Eric drove through the gatehouse then stopped the wagon to look at the town.

The main road through town was not crowded. It was a wide avenue, perhaps wide enough for three wagons. The buildings that crowded the road were two or more stories tall, and many of the upper levels looked like later additions. Some upper stories leaned precariously, as if the front fa‡ade was ready to fall off. The alleyways were all narrow and dark, and none were wide enough for the wagons.

"These wagons are going to draw attention," Eric noted. "I don't see any others. We should leave the wagons here and walk through town."

"You suggest Lord Duran del Quintin would arrive on foot?" Bilbus asked haughtily to remind Eric of their ruse.

"No," Eric reconsidered. "Do you think we should find an inn?"

"I don't know if we'll be here that long," Bilbus admitted. "However, it would be bad form for Josacal not to put up a visiting lord and potential ally. I think we'll be staying in Griffon's Beak."

"Where is it?" Eric asked. "I don't see anything that looks like a noble villa, and surely he wouldn't hide it off of the main avenue through town."

"Wasn't it that castle outside of town?" Bilbus asked. "That's where we went last time we were here."

Eric stopped a passer-by. In an Azirian-tinged trade tongue, he asked for directions to Griffon's Beak.

"Through town, past the gatehouse. Only castle on the island," the pedestrian replied.

"Thank you," Eric said before he set the wagon in motion again.

As the wagon rolled along, Breanna suddenly shouted, "Stop!"

Eric stopped the wagon and glanced around. A shop front next to the wagon had several dried bunches of herbs hanging in its window. Breanna was already climbing over the side of the wagon.

"You have got to be kidding me," Eric said.

As Breanna reached the paving stones, she answered, "It is as good of a place as any to get information on the state of the town and the locals. Mouzhina, would you like to come along?" she grinned mischievously.

The shape-changed centaur climbed out and followed Breanna into the herbal shop.

Breanna stopped next to the open doorway to inspect some dried berries that were on display. "Aren't these from the Steppes?" she asked Mouzhina.

"Yes, they come from the yanida bush," Mouzhina said. "It's tart and sweet when dried, but it has some uses other than flavoring."

Breanna led Mouzhina into the shop. The interior was a chaotic mess, with no rhyme nor reason in its layout. A number of very different herbs were dumped together in some of the boxes, causing Breanna to cringe. Her first instinct was to start sorting the herbs. Master Shipley was a stickler for a well-ordered shop, and Breanna had inherited his compulsive need for organization.

Fighting the urge, Breanna looked about for the proprietor. He was as disheveled as the shop was disorganized, slumped over a desk covered with dried leaves. He ran one hand through his thinning ash gray hair as he pushed leaves around on the desk in a futile attempt to sort them.

Finding no bags to collect herbs for herself, Breanna approached the shopkeeper. The leaves on his desk were from a number of different plants, all dried for the making of teas. The man kept a continual muttering under his breath as he vainly tried to sort the tea leaves.

Breanna smiled as she got close to the desk. "Excuse me..."

The shopkeeper looked up at her, startled. "Oh, sorry. My shop is such a mess. Ever since the Lady Edralve took my slave, I've had to keep shop by myself. She had such a talent for organizing this place, and now I am at a loss."

Breanna gestured around at the shop. "It is rather difficult to keep such variety in any kind of order. Surely, in such a busy town as this you'll be able to find a replacement quickly."

The shopkeeper sighed. "Would I not wish it so. Our Lady," sarcasm tinged his voice, "has taken almost all of the slaves for the Forges. Even the slave caravans that show up go straight through town to Griffon's Beak to deliver new arrivals to Lady Edralve personally."

"Really? I wonder why she would need so many slaves. They can't all be skilled miners."

He lowered his voice. "I know you are not from around here. You have all the markings of a Kelltic woman, and the accent of one. My slave was a Kellt, as well. Lady Edralve does not have much need for miners. She needs slaves to make swords, to support her mistress."

Breanna's eyes widened. Her voice tinged with fear, she said, "I had heard rumors where I came from of humans being used to make swords. Are they true? Aren't you afraid she'll take you as well? Why do you stay?"

"The Lady does not take her subjects, unless they do something to truly displease her. Only slaves are to be used in the Forges. They're only slaves, after all."

Breanna lowered her voice. "Ah, well. We should all be safe, then. I have to wonder why she would only use the slaves, though. Are the slaves all human? Is there something special about the slaves she takes and uses?"

"Of course the slaves are human," he said patiently. "They're from lesser peoples. No offense," he added hastily. "They're just slaves. The Forges require humans for the swords. It's the nature of the magick."

Breanna glanced back Mouzhina. A hint of shame showed that she was listening in on the conversation, but she was busying herself studying some mushrooms in a jar.

Trying to keep her voice steady, Breanna replied to the shopkeeper. "Just any human will do? No special abilities or traits? This truly is a frightening wonder." She lowered her voice to a fearful near-whisper. "What do these swords do? They must surely be very powerful weapons."

The shopkeeper shrugged. "I do not know. I just hear the stories, and now we have dark elves in the town to make sure nothing happens to the Forges."

"Ah, yes," Breanna said. "We did see the dark elves and some strange looking, uhh, bear like creatures as well when we entered the gates." Breanna grabbed a handful of the leaves on the table and sniffed them. Effortlessly, Breanna sorted the leaves. "What stories have you heard, if you don't mind me asking? I always find it fascinating to hear the differing stories in the places I visit." She placed the sorted piles of leaves on the table and smiled warmly at the shopkeeper.

Looking at the leaves, the shopkeeper asked, "Do all Kelltic women have this talent?" Looking back at Breanna, he said, "These stories are not stories you want to hear, young lady. Such stories are not stories the Kellts like."

Breanna laughed as she picked up more of the disorganized leaves. "No, sir, I don't believe all Kelltic women have a taste for tea and spices such as these. But I am curious about the stories. You would be surprised by the stories I've heard. There were tales of a zombie army raised from the dead to defend an ancient palace. Surely your stories of swords could be no more terrifying than those?"

"Perhaps not, lady. But these are stories meant to stay in this town. Were I to tell you them, you would not be allowed to leave. Not that I would remind replacing my former slave with one as competent as you."

Breanna lowered her face, in part to hide the genuine fear that was trying to show on it. Giggling nervously, she said, "Ah, you would not want me. I have another master to serve, just now." She looked out the shop's window towards the wagon. Bilbus and Eric sat on the bench, the former with a look of abject boredom, the latter stoically waiting. Facing the proprietor with a look of disappointment, Breanna shrugged slightly. "A pity, that. I have always believed that stories of other lands help teach the rest of the world, and without knowledge, there is no understanding. And sadly, without understanding, there is much evilness between us all." With a mischievous smile, she added, "Besides, my dear sir, who would tell that you had told me such stories, anyway? My dear sister certainly wouldn't dream of it."

Mouzhina looked up from the jar of mushrooms. "Hmm?" she intoned before strolling over to stand next to Breanna. "Sister, look at these mushrooms." She held a few dried mushroom caps in her hand. "I don't remember seeing ones like these before."

The shopkeeper helpfully interjected, "I have some very unusual suppliers, and I have access to very rare herbs and plants."

Breanna had seen the mushrooms before, once, in a shop in the drow cave-city of Erelhei Cinlu. She poked them around gently in Mouzhina's hand. "Oh, my. These are quite unique." She smiled brightly at the man. "You have a great selection of herbs and oddities here, sir. Ah, well. Before our master becomes too... impatient... we should collect our bits."

Breanna picked out a number of herbs, including a few of the drow mushrooms and a pile of the tea leaves she had helped to sort, fighting the urge to organize the place any further. Once she completed her collection, she returned to the shopkeeper's desk. "You have been a great help, sir." She scooped up some more tea leaves, and added a couple of other herbs to the leaves. "This has always been my favorite blended tea. You'll have to try it at your leisure. I'm sure you will enjoy it. Thank you so much for all of your help. Perhaps if our master chooses to stay, you'll be willing some more of your stories next time...?"

"Perhaps so, lady," he mumbled as he examined Breanna's pile of herbs. "This will be three Tralack."

Breanna turned to Mouzhina. "Sister, dear, unless there's anything you'd like to add, will you please signal to Nguyen to pay for our purchases?" As Mouzhina walked towards the door, Breanna said to the shopkeeper, "I do so wish that our master would allow us to keep our own coins."

Eric noticed Mouzhina stepping out of the herbal shop. She gestured towards Eric then stepped back inside. Bilbus let out an exasperated sigh as the Azirian walked into the shop.

A smile started to cross Eric's face, but it vanished quickly as he resumed his assumed identity when he heard Breanna ask, "Nguyen, would you please pay for our purchases out of my stipend from the master? I owe him three copper coins." She glanced back at the shopkeeper, who nodded.

Eric placed three coins on the desk. Breanna and Mouzhina followed him back outside.

Bilbus sighed loudly when all three of them were outside. "I give my concubines too much leeway. I should keep them on a shorter leash." He grinned evilly. "I found a shop that sells them, you know," he added with a wink.

Once both women were on the wagon again, Eric climbed back onto the driver's bench and set it moving once more through town. Breanna leaned up to Bilbus, kissing him politely on the cheek while pinching his ribs. "But, my Lord, we know how much you love my teas."

She then sat down and related what the shopkeeper had told them.

Eric surmised, "If she has taken the slaves from the town, and she still does not have enough to keep up, she may start taking people from the town."

"Aye," Rishala agreed. "It could cause a revolution."

The wagon reached the middle of town, revealing the only open space the party had seen in Suderpol. To one side of the road was a small amphitheatre, with four rows of bench seats arrayed in a semi-circle around a square stage. Inset on the stage were restraints. No one was in the amphitheatre. Next to the amphitheatre was a two story tall, cubical building constructed of a dark stone with greenish striations. The building had no windows, and only an open doorway facing the amphitheatre indicated any entrance at all in the building.

"This is where they auction slaves," Mouzhina muttered.

"What is that building, though?" Eric wondered, nodding towards the greenish structure. "Maybe it leads to the slave pits?"

Bilbus suggested, "Or maybe it is the access to an undercity, like Erelhei Cinlu beneath Arabel Cinlu. What would it be called? Suderpol and Underpol?"

"Maybe we should nae discuss this while next to the building," Rishala recommended.

The wagon rolled on through town.

After the lovely Kelltic woman and her odd sister left, the shopkeeper decided to take a break from sorting the herbs. The recent visitor was disturbing. She knew far too much about Suderpol to be truly innocent of the goings-on in the town. She was also hauntingly familiar. She had the same beautiful face as his former slave, Tamelyn. If the stranger's hair had been red, they would have looked like sisters, or perhaps mother and daughter. Walking outside, the shopkeeper paused long enough to place a shingle in his shop's window: "Will return later".

He meandered down the road towards the town center, watching the wagon containing the visitor and a second wagon full of warriors ahead of him. They paused for a minute or two near the slave auctions, empty now for weeks as Lady Edralve diverted every slave to her Forges. As the wagons reached the far gates of Suderpol, the shopkeeper had reached the dark stone building next to the amphitheatre. He walked through the doorway into the dark interior.

His eyes took a moment to adjust to the near-darkness. The stone of the building, with its alien green striations, glowed in the dark, and it created an illusion of being deep beneath the sea. The building's interior was one vast chamber, seven paces on a side. In the center was an enormous statue on a pedestal, all carved from the same stone as the building itself. The statue was a hideous monstrosity, a muscular human-like being squatting on the pedestal. Long, talon- tipped toes curled off the edge of the pedestal, like the being crouched, ready to spring. Bat- like wings folded against the back of the beast, behind a large, round head. A mass of tentacles concealed the mouth of the monster. Cruel eyes scowled at the shopkeeper, sending a shiver down his spine. No matter how many times he visited the Temple of the Great One, he felt like the eyes were following him.

The shopkeeper dropped to his knees, basking in the menace emanating from the statue. He knew he could not go to the town watch to tell them an outsider was asking questions about the Forges. The watch would take him to Lady Edralve, and she would likely sentence him to the Forges for talking too much. As the disquieting cruelty of the statue washed through him, he forgot his worries about the foreigner.

Several guards stood in the southern gatehouse, blocking passage out of Suderpol. Eric stopped the wagon.

"State your purpose," one of the guards demanded.

"The Lord Duran del Quintin arrives to visit Josacal the Younger, Clomon of Griffon's Beak." Eric pulled the invitation out of a scroll case and held it out to the guard.

The guard inspected the invitation then returned it to Eric. He nodded his head at the other guards, who stood aside to let the wagons pass.

As the wagon rolled out of the tunnel, Eric surveyed the view. There were a pair of wagon ruts that rolled south through the corn fields towards the smoking hill. The ruts cut back a couple of times before stopping in front of a cave entrance on the side of the hill. The entrance had been carved and enlarged, until it looked like a gatehouse. Closer to the town, the trail branched left at a keep a hundred paces away.

In the back of the wagon, Ingaborgen, who had been quiet during the ride through town, said, "I have no idea who this Josacal is."

Breanna answered her, "He's someone you don't want to meet."

Eric nodded to himself. "He's who we're going to meet right now."

He turned the wagon onto the ruts leading to the keep. Once the wagon stopped, he quietly announced, "Welcome to Griffon's Beak."

The keep was rectangular, with small round towers on each corner. The entrance was nothing more than a pair of large doors. Something was amiss about the keep, but Eric could not decide what it was.

Mouzhina muttered, "I need to be closer to the Forges."

Bilbus turned towards her. "We need permission from the man in there, first. Maybe he can give us a tour."

Four guards waited outside the doors. Eric repeated the announcement of "Duran del Quintin" arriving to visit Josacal. After inspecting the invitation, one of the guards ordered the visitors to follow him.

Eric and Bilbus climbed down from the wagon seat. While Rishala and the women climbed out of the wagon, Bilbus glanced back at the wagon of disguised Church Knights. The wagon driver had his eyebrows raised inquiringly.

"Wait here, guards," Bilbus ordered. The driver nodded.

Bilbus grabbed his jeweled scepter and tucked it under an arm before following the guard through the doors. They were at the end of a breezeway into the inner courtyard. The guard led them to one of the doors that surrounded the courtyard and into a study. Book shelves lined two sides of the room, and large windows on the outer wall faced solid stone, right against the glass of the windows. Several glowing orbs of Heka provided illumination in the room. Bilbus scowled at the odd view of stone as the guard left the party alone in the room. Breanna and Rishala both went to the bookshelves to inspect the titles.

Eric understood why the keep seemed odd. "They surrounded the original mansion with walls and a tower. Why would they do that? It isn't very efficient. Why not build a proper castle?"

Before anyone answered, the door opened. A graying man strode into the room, wearing silk fineries and a woolen overcoat. He had a sword at his hip that Eric and Bilbus immediately recognized. It was one of the new darkblades. A different guard followed him into the room.

"Lord del Quintin?" the older man asked, a smile on his face.

"Yes," Bilbus answered coolly.

The new arrival strode forward, reaching out to clasp forearms with Bilbus. "I'm Josacal the Younger, Clomon of Griffon's Beak." Bilbus ignored the outstretched arm. Josacal let his arm drop. "I can't tell you how glad I am to meet you at long last. All these years of sending correspondence to you, and never getting a response." He turned to his guard. "Bring mint tea and some biscuits."

Turning back to Bilbus, he kept speaking. "We have a lot to offer you, Lord del Quintin. And I suspect you have something to offer us, as well. An ally in the Dales is always worthwhile. The operations we have here are fascinating. I'll have to show them to you. The Forges have been pretty inactive lately due to our supply problems, but we've improved operations. We're not going through smiths like we used to, and the new production techniques we use are much faster than the old rituals. We can't get slaves in fast enough to keep the Forges running at full utilization.

"Let me apologize, too. Lady Edralve is detained with affairs of the state. She won't be able to join us until this evening."

The door opened and the guard carefully walked into the study, a serving tray balancing precariously in one hand. Several tea cups and a plate of sweet biscuits were on the tray, and a small pool of spilled tea washed back and forth across the tray. The guard approached Bilbus, approximating a bow as he held the tray forward. Bilbus sneered as he looked at the spilled tea. He then struck the guard with his scepter. The tray fell to the ground, breaking some of the tea cups.

The guard reflexively reached for his sword, but stopped his hand before he touched the weapon's grip. Bilbus noted that Eric had been reaching for his sword as well. The guard mumbled an apology to Josacal and left the room.

"Now," Bilbus said. "Where were we? Yes, you were telling me of supply problems. Not enough slaves, right? We could see fit to supply some of the troubling members of Our lands."

Josacal beamed. "I was hoping you would say that. That is exactly what we need. We are taking slaves already, but we don't have any open partners, so we have to take great care not to get caught."

"What do you have to offer Us? The swords are intriguing, but certainly that is not all?"

"Imagine your entire city watch armed with darkblades. No one could stand in your way. And, to sweeten this offer, we will help you eliminate the Dales Council. You would have the Dales to yourself."

"An interesting offer," Bilbus conceded. Maybe I should agree, anyway. If I could get rid of the Council...

A different guard entered the study, moving slowly while holding a tray of tea. Bilbus took one, noting that nothing had been spilled. As he and Josacal talked, Bilbus passed the cup back and forth between his hands before eventually handing the cup to Eric, who returned it to the tray the guard still held, the tea untouched.

After his guests finished their tea, Josacal suggested, "Let's go to the Forges. This will be fascinating."

He led Bilbus and the rest of the entourage outside. Josacal walked towards the Forges.

"Please," Bilbus said. "Let us ride. I have wagons."

Josacal crowded onto the bench with Eric and Bilbus. The wagon lurched slowly forward then curved towards the ruts leading towards the smoking hill. Ahead, halfway to the hill, a dozen people manacled together hand and foot trudged south towards the Forges. Three guards escorted the prisoners.

Josacal smiled broadly. "Excellent! We have a column of slaves heading to the Forges. Good. You will get to see the operation while it's running. It's much improved over the old technique. We don't have to replace smiths as often."

Josacal prattled ceaselessly as the wagon rolled towards the Forges. The wagons were rolling up the gradual hill towards the cave entrance, just a few paces behind the slave column.

In the back of the wagon, Rishala heard Mouzhina whisper, "Close enough." She reached into her belt pouch and drew out a translucent, faintly glowing chunk of material as large as her fist. Rishala's eyes widened when he realized that she was holding over a pound of Hekalite. Rishala had never seen such a large chunk of elemental Heka. During the battle against the Dark One, he and Breanna had been given small chunks, little larger than the end of a finger. A fist-size chunk of essential Heka would be priceless.

Rishala felt a surge of Heka as Mouzhina channeled her weave through the Hekalite. The weave emerged through the Hekalite as a torrent of magickal energies directed into the heart of the hill the wagons were on. Rishala noticed that everyone on the wagon jumped when she blasted the Heka. Bilbus half-stood on the bench, turning back to see what had just happened.

Mouzhina clutched her hand. The weave of Heka had consumed the Hekalite, multiplying the power of the casting immensely, but burning Mouzhina's hand. Breanna was already digging into her healer's kit to find a salve for the blistering on the shape-shifted centaur.

Mouzhina saw Rishala's startled expression. "I think that was too much Heka."

The ground moved abruptly. The wagons slid off of the leveled route the ruts followed, throwing Bilbus to the ground. As he picked himself up, Bilbus noticed that the slaves and their guards had fallen to the ground, as well. Beyond them, steam streamed out of the cave entrance.

Bilbus dusted himself off and walked around the wagon to stand next to Josacal.

"What was that?" Bilbus asked.

Josacal was staring at the column of steam now billowing out of the crater on the top of the hill. "That's never happened before. I think it's bad."

"No," Bilbus said, drawing his adamantine dagger. "This is bad." With a sharp thrust, he stabbed Josacal in the back. The Clomon of Griffon's Beak fell out of the wagon, laying on the ground dying.

Lady Edralve scowled. She had spent the entire day with her drow "advisor" - who had taken over the town as soon as she had arrived. The meeting had gone nowhere.

"Lady Edralve, the Baroness is unhappy that you are not meeting our agreed-to production rate."

"We can't make swords if we don't have slaves for the Forges," Edralve said for the sixth time.

"You have a town full of, what, five thousand humans? It appears that you have plenty of supplies to keep the Forges running at full capacity for weeks."

"I can't sacrifice my people for the Forges. If they are killed, the town is no more."

"That is not my concern. And it should not be yours," the drow said coldly. "Not if it means angering the Baroness. I advise you..." her voice trailed off, and she looked towards the southern wall of the windowless room. "We must leave."

"What?" Edralve blurted.

The drow grabbed the human by the wrist and hauled her towards the door of the room. Stumbling, Lady Edralve followed the advisor down the hall to another room. The drow shut them in the room and held her hand over the door latch for a few seconds.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure no one follows us in here," the drow answered before leading Edralve to the only contents of the room.

A slab of smooth, pinkish granite stood near the far wall. Eleven feet high and eleven feet wide, it stood inches from the far wall. The drow pointed a hand towards the slab, and the center of it slowly dissolved, revealing a blackness beyond, framed by a six-inch wide band of pink stone.

No matter how many times Edralve had seen a Portal opening, it bothered her. The dark space beyond the slab did not exist. Looking at the Portal from the other side while it was open, one would see a solid slab of granite, not a pink frame around darkness.

Still clutching Edralve's wrist, the drow led her through the Portal. The comfortable warmth of Griffon's Beak was gone, replaced by something that was neither warm nor cold. A glowing orb appeared over the advisor's hand, casting a steady, cool, gray light across everything nearby.

The stone beneath Edralve was a grayish white, showing no signs of age even though the drow had assured Edralve that the Portals and the Tunnels beyond them were older than man. Behind her, Edralve saw the grayish frame of the Portal, with her keep beyond it. The Portal rested on the edge of what the drow called an "Island", a one mile diameter slab of stone surrounded by a turbulent storm that never encroached over the Island. There was only one Portal on each Island, but there were two, or usually three, Tunnels that led off of the Island. Each Tunnel was a ten foot wide stone path that stretched seemingly forever through the storm. The Tunnels connected the Islands. The distance between Islands never varied. No matter how quickly one rushed, or how slowly one strolled, it took eight hours in a Tunnel to reach an Island.

Edralve studied her hands in the glow of the magickal light. Her skin was a pale gray. Her blue silk dress was a shiny gray. Not only did heat and cold not exist within the Islands' realm, but there was never color in the realm, either. The only color one could see was when looking through an open Portal.

There were other drow on the Island, guards that the Baroness had posted to ensure no visitors tried to enter the Tunnels. Baroness Eclavdra had mentioned once that her opponents had learned how to use the Tunnels, and they had used them for their own advantage. Drow fighters and mages now guarded the key Portals.

Once of the drow approached the advisor. The two spoke quickly in the dark sing-song of their tongue. Edralve wished again that the drow would have taught her their tongue.

The drow advisor released Edralve's wrist. Speaking quickly to the male dark elf while controlling her disdain for the lesser of her species' sexes, she gave the garrison orders. "Someone has shaped a powerful casting into the heart of the Forges. I do not know the extent of the magicks. I evacuated the human so that she could explain to the baroness personally her failure. You will wait here for three hours before opening the Portal and surveying the damage. You will then report to me personally at House Eilservs, that we may then tell the Lady Baroness what has happened. Do you understand, man-drow?"

"I understand, Lady Advisor. We will wait three hours, open the Portal, determine the severity of the damage, then report to you personally in Erelhei Cinlu." He bowed slightly.

"Good." Switching back to the human's tongue, she ordered Edralve, "Come along." The advisor walked into the darkness, heading for the Tunnel that would take her to Erelhei Cinlu.

Silently, Edralve followed.

Bilbus watched the slaves ahead of the wagon pick themselves up off the ground. The guards in their heavy maille armor were slower to react. The woman at the front of the slave chain turned to face her fellow prisoners, her reddish hair blowing in the breeze that was building. Bilbus jumped slightly when she suddenly channeled Heka. The manacles on the chains all popped open, freeing the slaves.

In the Kelltic tongue, the woman shouted, "Fight if you want to live!" She turned to the nearest guard, who was charging her with his sword drawn, and directed a forceful blast of Heka at him.

The guard flew back a pace and stumbled to the ground. Three slaves jumped him, wrestling his sword and dagger away. Other slaves attacked the other two guards, quickly dispatching them. One of the freed slaves gave the woman a dagger as they awaited her orders.

Behind them, at the entrance to the Forges, two drow raced out. The steam pouring out of the cave entrance was getting thicker, and a sudden rush of superheated steam blasted out of the cave just as Eric loosed an arrow at the lead drow. The steam consumed both drow, broiling them in an instant.

Bilbus shouted to the slaves, "If you want to leave this island, come with us!"

He looked at the lead wagon. The jolt had knocked it off of the leveled trail, and it would take some effort to get the wagon back on the trail. It was still faced the wrong direction, too, and there was nowhere to turn around except at the cave entrance.

"Eric, it will take too long to get the wagons on the road again," he shouted over the roar of escaping steam.

"The oxen are too slow," Eric agreed. "Let's go." He jumped down from the wagon.

The rest of the party climbed down as well, and the Church Knights abandoned their own wagon. The slaves quickly caught up with the party. They fled in silence, feeling small rumbles underfoot and hearing the roaring of steam escaping the hill that contained the Forges. The always present stink of brimstone was stronger as they got closer to Griffon's Beak.

The red-headed leader of the slaves veered off of the ruts heading towards the town gates, turning towards the castle instead. Over her shoulder, she shouted, "Part of the Codex is in here. We must get it!"

Rishala and Breanna exchanged surprised looks. "Who is she?" Rishala wondered

Eric suggested, "Is she with the Church? Maybe the Sword of the Church?"

Breanna responded, "No. If she's after the Codex, I think I dreamed of her. She may be with the Circle of Mages."

Eric shouted to the knights and slaves, "Keep heading to town. We'll catch up." He then pursued the woman towards Griffon's Beak. The rest of the party followed him.

Another sharp rumble shook the island. Waves washed onto the shore of the island, and part of the Griffon's Beak curtain wall collapsed, exposing several rooms inside. Columns of steam boiled out of the lake south of the hill and west, beyond the keep.

Guards remained posted outside the entrance to the keep, despite the chaos about them. They shouted at the party, "No one is to enter Griffon's Beak!"

Bilbus pointed south at the columns of steam. "Are you going to stay there while the seventh hell is unleashed?"

The guards glanced at one another and sprinted towards the Suderpol gatehouse.

The woman led the party into the inner courtyard, through another door, up a flight of stairs, and down an upper-level hallway before stopping at a door. She grabbed the handle and shook it.

"She knows where she's going," Eric noted.

"Locked!" she cursed.

Bilbus threaded Heka into the lock, effortlessly unlocking the door. The woman nodded towards Bilbus, threw the door open, and ran inside.

The room was ornate. A large bed filled one wall of the room, covered with rich silk sheets. An enormous, exotic wooden armoire filled most of another wall. Crystalline decanters occupied a table, and small atomizers - some crystal, others gold - were arranged on another table. Intricate tapestries covered three of the walls.

The woman jumped onto the bed. Using her dagger, she sliced the tapestry on the wall next to the bed open, revealing an iron door, one pace on the side. She tugged at the handle on it. "It's locked," she muttered.

Bilbus jumped onto the bed next to her and again magickally disarmed the lock. He grabbed the handle and pulled the safe open. Inside the large safe was a single sheet of paper. The woman cursed as she snatched the paper and skimmed over it. She thrust the sheet at Bilbus before running for the door.

"We need to get off this island," she shouted as she rushed into the hallway. "We need to get back to Londoun!"

The party raced after her. Once they were outside the keep, running to catch up with the rest of their group, Bilbus skimmed over the sheet of paper. It was a letter.

To the Lady Edralve

Our plans come to fruition at long last. You have served well, and there is one more task for you. Send your part of the Codex to Our agents at Stalgraf Imports in Londoun. They have been instructed to retain couriers who shall take the Codex to Our ally.

Serve Us Well, and you shall be rewarded.

Baroness Eclavdra
House Eilservs

The guards at the gatehouse were gone. As the party ran through the gatehouse, a stronger temblor shook the island. The wall separating Suderpol from the rest of the island collapsed, taking a number of buildings and part of the gatehouse with it. A large chunk of stone glanced off of Rishala, knocking him to the ground. The magickal defenses Rishala had about him kept the stone from doing injury, but the scream of one of the former slaves showed that someone else was not as lucky. Two of the fellow escapees helped move the wounded man as Breanna quickly wove healing magicks into a dislocated shoulder.

The town appeared abandoned as the townsfolk stampeded for the gatehouse at the barge dock. The main road was congested on the far end of town with people fleeing for their lives. Some had nothing but the clothes on their backs, while others dragged trunks overflowing with clothes and baubles.

Another quake shook the town, stronger than any preceding it. Much of the city collapsed, crushing fleeing townsfolk in an avalanche of stone. The rest of the city walls failed and much of the town's haphazardly-arranged buildings fell, giving the party a broad view of the circular valley.

Large columns of steam roared skywards from several places on the lake, including one spot close to the barge lines. One of the barges was at the island's dock, while the other one slowly crossed the lake towards the far landing. Water washed over the sides of that barge, threatening to capsize it. The barge got closer to the column of steam, and screams of pain and terror fought with the roar of steam. The barge and its passengers were quickly engulfed.

The party scrambled over the rubble that was Suderpol, ignoring the moans coming from under the debris. There was no way to save everyone in the town and escape.

The barge supervisor stood at the end of his barge, watching the party approach. "One klal apiece," he demanded. "Or you can stay and burn."

Breanna snarled as she mentally reached for the magickal energies she could feel. Before she could direct those forces into the supervisor to shove him aside, Eric raised his bow and shot the supervisor through the head. The crew of the barge were visibly shaken, but they offered no protests when the party and their fellow escapees climbed aboard.

As the bargemen pulled the rope, Church Knights joined in. Even with the extra muscle, the barge crept slowly across the lake.

"This is taking too long," Bilbus growled. "I could fly over there in no time." He turned to Rishala, his eyes brightening. "I could push the barge!"

"D'ye think you can push it fast enough alone?" Rishala countered.

"You can help," Bilbus said.

"I don't know the weave," Rishala said.

"Then watch." Bilbus quickly wove Heka through himself, until he could feel his feet rising above the deck of the barge. He flew behind the barge, bracing himself against it, and pushed with all his might. Rishala joined him moments later. The barge sped slightly.

"We're going too close to that steam," Eric informed the two flying men. "Can you steer us past it?"

Rishala and Bilbus shifted positions until the barge started drifting wide of the steam column.

"This water's getting hot," Bilbus commented.

"Aye," Rishala agreed. Rishala wove Heka, and Bilbus noticed the heat had diminished. Breanna repeated the weave on Rishala, so both men would not suffer from the heat of the boiling lake water.

Once the barge ran aground on the canyon side of the lake, the fleeing people scrambled up the switchbacks towards the cave that passed through the canyon.

Bilbus grabbed Ingaborgen. "Rishala, we can fly them up to the entrance faster than they can run. Grab Eric, and let's go."

As Rishala and Bilbus shuttled people up to the exit, Breanna replicated the weaving that Bilbus had done. She helped the other two fly escaped slaves and Church Knights up to the tunnel cave entrance. Rishala and Bilbus grabbed two of the last evacuees, flying into the tunnel. Breanna stopped next to Mouzhina.

"Second sister, hang on," Breanna said as she grabbed the disguised centaur.

She flew upwards, not willing to risk a tunnel collapse as she flew through. As she neared the top of the canyon wall, there was a tremendous explosion. The force of the blast threw Breanna into the canyon wall. She lost her grip on Mouzhina, and both women fell towards the rocky lakeshore, over twenty-five paces below them. Mouzhina screamed. Desperately, Breanna wove Heka into the ground below them, softening it to break their fall. The two women bounced off the ground and stiffly picked themselves up.

"Hurry!" Eric shouted from the cave entrance. "The Forges just exploded!"

Breanna and Mouzhina scrambled into the cave entrance and sprinted for the far side, with Eric close behind them.

Through the cave the party ran. They slipped and jumped their way down the switchbacks just outside the valley entrance, racing for the tree line a hundred paces away. Bilbus kept a hand on the red-headed woman, helping her along and making sure she did not try to escape into the scattered crowd of refugees ahead of the party on the road.

In the trees ahead, near the trail, a number of centaurs looked out. Seeing the party with their entourage, the centaurs ran up the hill to assist. Centaurs grabbed humans, flinging them up onto strong equine backs.

"Two legs, hang on!" Dumita shouted as she grabbed Bilbus. Once he was on her back, Bilbus helped the red-headed woman up. He held onto the woman as Dumita galloped down the trail, leaping past Suderpol residents who fled on foot.

Mouzhina released the weaves that kept her in human form. She helped Breanna onto her own back and ran down the trail.

"Mouzhina, we can go faster if we fly," Breanna implored.

"No," Mouzhina snorted. The free fall minutes earlier had left its impression. "Centaurs are not meant to fly." She ran past a pair of orcs who were running down the trail. They were the orcs who had helped guard the entrance to the valley.

Ahead of them, Dumita shouted over her shoulder at Bilbus. "Two legs, if you know castings of haste, now is the time. The goddess of that mountain awakes, and she is angry. Very angry."

Bilbus grasped at the Heka around him and shaped it inside his centaur mount. Dumita accelerated abruptly to inhuman speed, passing people in a blur. Bilbus could feel Breanna and Rishala following suit behind him.

"Mouzhina, if you won't fly, how about going very fast?" Breanna offered.

"Fast would be good," Mouzhina agreed.

Breanna worked the weaving, and Mouzhina bolted ahead. Realizing she could alter the magicks, Breanna tried weaving the Heka on a centaur she wasn't touching. The casting worked, and Breanna shouted to Rishala and Bilbus to use her alterations. The centaurs bolted down the trail.

Rishala watched the trees blurring past him as his centaur hasted its way along the trail. He resisted the urge to look back at the mountain behind them - as rough as the ride was, he was not certain he could keep his seat on the centaur's bare back. It was with surprise that he felt the blast behind him. He was sailing past the centaur towards a tree. Before he could think of a curse, the tree bent and snapped. With fading consciousness, Rishala felt his body rolling and bouncing on the ground.

Rishala picked himself up from the ground. He ached, but he had no doubt that the magicks with which he had wrapped himself saved him from being seriously injured. As he rolled back onto his knees, he looked about in the twilight.

The forest was gone. The trees had been knocked over, pointed downhill, for as far as he could see. A layer of grayish powder covered everything. Rishala grabbed some of it. Ash. More ash fell from overhead. The sky above was a sullen gray for as far as he could see, except to the far north. The out-of-place cheerful blue of the northern horizon showed that it was still daylight, despite the dark clouds above. Lightning danced back and forth in the distant clouds, suggesting a storm yet to come.

Looking south, towards where Suderpol once was, Rishala saw that the top of the mountain was gone, as was everything within a few hundred paces of the peak. A thick column of smoke and ash, lit hellish red from somewhere beneath, bellowed into the sky. Glowing chunks of rock arced away from the mountaintop, crashing to the land hundreds of paces from where they were launched. The dull roar of the mountain shook the very ground, even at this distance.

Rishala looked at his immediate surroundings. A number of centaurs and people lay covered in ash, looking like odd statuary scattered about in a strange scene. Rishala found where Eric had landed. A quick feel for a pulse found one. Rishala gently shook Eric.

"Eric? Wake up. Eric?"

After a few seconds, Eric stirred. He rolled stiffly onto his back and opened his eyes. "Are you a zombie?" Eric managed to ask before coughing.

Rishala wiped his face. His hands had a layer of gray ash. "No."

Eric sat up gingerly. His landing had been rough, as well, and Rishala guessed Eric's protections had not been as complete.

"Who's alive?" Eric asked.

"I dinna. I was going to start waking people up."

Eric nodded. Rishala helped him to his feet. Looking down the hill, he saw figures approaching.

"We have company," Rishala said.

Eric peered down the hill. "They look like people."

Rishala squinted. "No, they're centaurs. It must be the rest of the group that came here with Nikolas and Dumita. There weren't enough of them back at the tree line. He must have sent some of them ahead."

"Makes sense," Eric decided. He found Bilbus and the red-headed woman laying on the ground, partially entangled. Eric nudged Bilbus.

Bilbus coughed sharply. Feeling a woman wrapped around him and the incessant pounding in his head, he managed to ask, "Is it Beltane?"

"No, Bilbus," Eric replied. "Help us wake everyone up and tend to the wounded."

Eric found Breanna next. Kneeling next to her, he shook her gently.

Breanna opened her eyes. "Are we ghosts?" she mumbled.

"No."

Eric helped Breanna sit up. The noblewoman looked at her dress, tattered from the abuse heaped upon it when the mountain exploded.

"Take my cloak," Eric offered. "There are wounded to tend to."

The two wandered through the people and centaurs, waking them as they did.

Bilbus awakened Dumita. The centaur woman moaned. "My leg is broken, two-legs."

Bilbus called to Breanna, "Bree! Your centaur mom is hurt!"

Once Breanna arrived, Bilbus wandered off to check the other centaurs. He noticed that the red-headed woman was sitting up. He walked over to her.

"Hello," Bilbus said as she looked up at him miserably. "Perhaps it is time to formally introduce ourselves, now that things have calmed. I am Bilbus the Great. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

The woman tilted her head and thought for a moment. "No."

"I didn't think so."

Rishala stopped to look at her. "Lass, tell me where you hurt. I can heal you."

The woman put her hand on her forehead. "From here down."

Rishala focused strands of Heka in her, finding those places that felt out of place and mending them. As he tied off the last of the strands, he said, "Who are ye, lass?"

She looked into his eyes. "I am Lady Morianna Tamelyn Ceiturin, of Armagh, Kingdom of the Five Crowns."

Bilbus took a step back, raising his hands. "I didn't touch her," he blurted, glancing nervously at the woman, over at Breanna, and back at the redhead. The face was amazingly similar, and the shape of her body was easily like Breanna's, just twenty some years older. Why didn't I notice sooner? Bilbus wondered, still digesting what he was seeing.

To Morianna, he said, "Perhaps a more proper introduction is in order. I am Baron Bilbus Hogain del Cartach, of Portsdale, the Dales." He gestured towards Rishala. "This is Rishala of Orcney. He's related to the King of Caledonia."

Morianna arched an eyebrow as she looked at Rishala. "Clan McKinnon? A highlands sept, though. Not the king's urban sept."

"Aye," Rishala said.

"You have a last name?" Bilbus blurted incredulously.

"Aye, Bilbus," Rishala said as he checked Morianna's magickally healing wounds.

To Morianna, Bilbus said, "I know your daughter."

"Which one?" Morianna asked.

Bilbus raised a hand to point at Breanna, who was tending to an injured centaur. He changed his mind and stammered, "We should talk when we get to the ship, where we have a little privacy. Things have changed a bit."

Bilbus and Morianna met the centaurs who had been approaching up the hill.

"You live?" the lead centaur asked.

Bilbus looked at the centaur for a moment. The feeling of familiarity was hard to ignore. "Yes. I think we all survived." That's it. This is the centaur Sturm had a drinking contest with in Kieta. Sturm won.

"You should not have lived. We were several miles down the road, and we were hurt," the centaur said.

"We did, though," Bilbus said. "We're tending to the wounded so we can get back to our ship."

"We have healers with us. We will help." The centaur called orders back to some of the others who accompanied him. They helped Breanna and Breanna's adopted mother and sister make the rounds of the injured.

When the wounded were healed enough to travel, and the three former slaves who were killed in the blast were buried, Eric approached Bilbus and Morianna.

"Bilbus, I'm going ahead down the hill," Eric informed his friend. "In case we encounter anyone, I'll be far enough ahead to take them down before they get close to the main group."

"Okay. Eric, this is Morianna. Morianna, this is Eric."

"Ithell?" Morianna asked.

"Yes."

"You have your mother's eyes."

"You know my mother?"

"It was a long time ago. How has she been?"

Bilbus interrupted. "We need to get going, in case this ash gets worse. Those clouds are going to dump rain on us any time now, and this hill is going to be tough to walk on."

Eric nodded. "You're right. Let's go."

Eric led off. The rest of the centaurs and humans followed a few tens of paces behind him, close enough they could see him in the false twilight. The first heavy drops of rain fell from the sky, striking the hillside in sharp thuds.

Bilbus walked next to Rishala, a few paces behind Morianna. He spoke to the Caledonian in a hushed voice. "Bree's mom is dead. She died when Bree was six, in childbirth. Now she's here. Don't you think that's odd?"

Rishala glanced back at Breanna, who was walking next to Mouzhina. Breanna's hair was still blonde. "Did you tell her?"

Bilbus shook his head. "Not yet. I thought it was best to wait until we get to the boat. We have enough things to worry about right now."

Rishala nodded. "Probably a good idea."

The sky unleashed a torrent. Thunder crashed as the rain began in earnest.

The sliver of blue sky ahead, out to sea, had faded to black by the time the party reached the port town of Noyonne. Between flashes of lightning and magickal globes of Heka woven by Rishala and Breanna, the party surveyed the remains of the town.

Most of the town was gone, washed away by a tremendous wave. What little had survived was well in shore, away from the pier. The Sea Wight had been washed nearly a hundred paces on shore. It listed to one side, a beached hulk with a broken mast. The party found no one in town.

Eric looked at the ship. "We're going to need to fix this ship if we're going to take it back to Londoun."

"We're not going to get it fixed tonight," Bilbus observed. "We're all exhausted." He looked at the ship resting on the mud. "Why don't we camp out in the boat? It has hammocks, so we can sleep even with it tipped over like that. It also gets us out of the rain."

"What about the centaurs?" Eric wondered.

"We will set camp well in shore," Nikolas offered. "We do not want to be too close to the shore, if another wave comes."

Bilbus climbed up onto the deck of the ship. He found a rope ladder and dropped it off the low side so the humans could climb on board. Once the knights and the escaped slaves were in the hold, Bilbus climbed down to join them. The knights had already set about getting hammocks hung for everyone.

Bilbus watched Morianna supervise the former slaves. "I think you should tell her," Bilbus said to Rishala.

"Which her?" Rishala asked.

"You pick." Bilbus drew a gold coin out of his pouch. He flipped it into the air.

"Heads," Rishala decided as the coin glittered in the dim lantern light.

Bilbus caught the coin and opened his hand. A horrific face, its mouth hidden with tentacles, glared out at the two men from the face of the coin. "Heads it is."

"I'll talk to Morianna."

Bilbus looked around the hold. Breanna was not in it. "Eric! Where's Bree?"

"She went to her room to change."

Bilbus climbed the tilted stairs that led to the officers' quarters. Outside Breanna's room, Bilbus rapped once on the door and walked in.

Breanna squealed in surprise and scowled at Bilbus. "I'm going to the shore to wash this ash mud off."

"I'll go with you," Bilbus offered. He noticed that her hair had changed back to its natural mahogany color.

Breanna shrugged as she picked out a clean shift. Bilbus followed her across the deck and down the ladder. As they walked towards the shore, Bilbus blurted, "So, Bree. Tell me about your mother."

Breanna stopped and looked at Bilbus. In the lightning flashes, he could see she thought he was crazy. It was a common look. "What brought that on?" she asked as she resumed her walk.

"I met someone that reminded me of her," Bilbus said casually.

"She's been dead for twenty years."

"Her name is Morianna Tamelyn Ceiturin. She's about, oh, yay tall." Bilbus waved his hand close to the top of Breanna's head.

"She was much taller than I am," Breanna muttered. "What on Oerth are you talking about, Bilbus? My mother died in childbirth when I was very young." They had reached the shoreline. Breanna set down her clean shift and walked into the water.

Bilbus watched her wave at someone else nearby in the sea. Eric was likewise washing off. Breanna finished washing, waded to shore to get her shift, and waded back into the water to change out of her damaged dress. When she came back to shore, she started to head towards Eric. Bilbus grabbed her shoulders and steered her towards the ship. "We need to get back inside," he said.

Breanna waved at Eric, but followed Bilbus back to the Sea Wight.

Inside the hold, Rishala found Morianna resting on the deck of the hold. He sat next to her. "Lady Ceiturin, I'd like to talk. You had a daughter named Breanna, aye?"

"Yes," Morianna replied. Her eyes were misty.

"How do you think she looks?"

Morianna half-grinned. "I would hope she looks more like me than her father."

"Aye," Rishala agreed. "I would hope that to be true of any daughter. You met Eric Ithell earlier today. Maybe you need to meet his wife, Breanna."

"Bree?" Morianna asked in a hushed voice.

The front door to the hold opened. Bilbus and Breanna stepped into the room. Bilbus gestured towards Morianna. "Bree, meet mom."

Breanna stared at the woman sitting next to Rishala. "Bilbus, you're not funny. My mother died. She's gone..." She looked at Bilbus. "You're not laughing."

Bilbus shook his head.

"Oh."

Breanna looked again at the woman. It had been two decades, but the face was familiar. She had not looked at the woman earlier, when the mountain was exploding. There were too many other things happening at the time. Then there were the wounded to tend to after the mountain blew up. And she had been busy afterwards.

Breanna turned and ran up the stairs for the main deck. Morianna followed her, shouting, "Breanna?"

Rishala got back to his feet and shook his head. "Bilbus, that was nae a good way to introduce them."

Bilbus shrugged. "You should keep an eye on those two. I'll go get Eric."

Breanna half climbed, half fell down the rope ladder. She heard the woman calling after her, the distantly familiar voice asking her to stop. Breanna ran towards the shore, not knowing where she was going or why, until she slipped in the mud that covered everything. She fell to her knees, fighting back sobs, holding her head in her hands. The woman kneeled next to her.

"You can't be. You're dead!" Breanna choked.

"I'm not dead."

"You have to be dead. You wouldn't have left us. I saw you dead."

"I wasn't dead," Morianna assured Breanna. "Not really. Mother Caneeda ... I don't know if you remember her. She was the priestess in Armagh when you were little. She helped me stage my death. That is why she left after my funeral. It wasn't easy."

"You died!"

"I had to get the Codex. We found out where it was."

Breanna lifted her head. "Are you with the Circle?"

"Yes."

"But what have you been doing? You have been gone twenty years. And we never heard from you. You were dead. I studied with Master Shipley, because I didn't want it to happen again, not after you, and Ellen..."

"What about Ellen?"

Breanna could hold back her tears no longer. "She died in childbirth. Her husband says she fell down the stairs. He was a liar and a drunk. She bled to death."

"No..." Morianna's voice cracked. "The baby?"

"She survived. What about yours? You died giving birth."

Morianna shook her head. "I wasn't pregnant. Mother Caneeda helped with that, too."

"I studied with Master Shipley. I completed the Master's tests last year in Londoun."

"You've completed your Mastery in herbalism?"

"Last year. I wasn't going to let it happen again. Not after you and sis." Breanna took a couple of ragged breaths. "What have you been doing for twenty years?"

"I wound up letting myself get taken by the slavers. I had to get into Suderpol to get the Codex away from Lady Edralve. I was able to get the town's herbalist to buy me as his shop slave."

Breanna looked at Morianna. "The herbalist on the main road? The one who couldn't keep his shop organized?"

"Was it already falling apart? I've been gone less than a week. Edralve ordered the last of the slaves rounded up. We were being kept in the dungeons of Griffon's Beak." Morianna looked up at the lightning overhead. "I remember when he got some odd mushrooms in once. He was handling them, trying to decide where he wanted to put them, when he dropped them. His hands were numb. I found an old reference he had that described the mushrooms as very poisonous, but also good for numbing the skin, as long as they're not used on an open wound. His hands were numb for a week." She looked at Breanna. "I don't see how he survived without help. He was an idiot."

Breanna's shoulders shook from a feeble laugh. Morianna sensed a weave of Heka around her that quickly unraveled. Breanna winced and held her head.

"I see you've learned some things."

Breanna glanced at the mud at her knees. She still could not believe this woman was her mother. It must have been a magickal disguise, but Breanna couldn't concentrate enough to pull the weave together. Remembering her mother's magicks on the slopes of the Forges, Breanna muttered, "I see you have too. I felt what you did with those locks. Why didn't you open Edralve's bedroom door yourself?"

"I wanted to see who I was dealing with. Your friend was helpful."

"Bilbus?"

Morianna carefully touched Breanna's long hair. "I remember you now. You were helping the wounded when we woke back up. Except your hair was blonde."

"Blonde?" Breanna sighed. "Bilbus! I'll get him later." Breanna shouted into the darkness "Rishala?"

"Aye!" came a voice from very nearby. Breanna jumped. Breanna thought she had seen Bilbus and Rishala following them outside, but she didn't realize Rishala was that close.

"May I have your flask?" Breanna asked her friend.

Rishala took his flask out of his sporran. He opened it and offered it to Breanna. She took a long drink of the strong whiskey. She then offered the flask to Morianna. Morianna took a long drink herself before handing it to Rishala. Rishala obligingly took a drink and stepped back a couple of paces.

Eric finished his bathing, and he was heading back to the ship when Bilbus found him.

"Hello, Bilbus. Where's Bree?" he asked.

"You and Bree need to talk. That woman you met earlier today? The one who said something about your mom?"

"Yes?"

"That's Bree's mom."

"I thought she was dead."

"We all thought she was dead. You need to talk to Bree."

Bilbus led Eric to Rishala, Morianna, and Breanna.

"Morianna," Bilbus said, "we should let these two talk. Come inside. We can dry off. I'll tell you how we met."

Bilbus began a rambling narrative, describing meeting Eric in Londoun, and the Beltane festival in Armagh, and the party's further adventures after then as he led Morianna away from Breanna and Eric.

Breanna watched them walk towards the ship for a minute before she reluctantly strolled towards the Sea Wight. Eric walked next to her, quiet.

Breanna finally began to speak. "She was dead, but now she's not dead. She wants to keep the Codex, but we must keep it."

"Why?" Eric asked.

"The dream I had."

"What dream?"

Breanna stopped walking. "I had a dream a few weeks back. We were on a hill - Rishala, and I were, and you and Bilbus were on the battleground. And Bilbus's son and daughter were on the hill, too."

"Battle ground?"

"We went back to the Dark One's prison. Junior - Bilbus's son - was going to fix the prison once and for all. We were all along to protect him, so he could do it. There was a storm overhead, and lightning crashing everywhere. And it was windy. Some of the lightning was magickal. Rishala was attacking with magick, too. You were commanding an army, and Bilbus had his orcs there, to keep the Dark One's army away from us.

"In the middle of the dream, Junior turned to talk to me. He said that we had to keep the Codex. We couldn't give it to the Circle. They weren't really evil, but they would take the Codex away and hide it. Junior needs the Codex to stop the Dark One. He said that no matter how badly it tore my loyalties, we had to keep the Codex..."

Eric spoke. "We know the Dark One's prison is killing al-Rhayidh. The magicks of the prison are draining the life away from the land. That's why I've been trading food to al-Rhayidh with such a low margin, or even a loss. The nearest fertile land to them is Eiresud. And it was Kelltic mages who created the prison. The caliph could take care of his problem and get revenge all at once if he chose to do so."

In the hold of the ship, Rishala, Morianna, and Bilbus were sitting next to a table. Bilbus had tapped a keg of port wine, and Rishala had a bottle of Caledonian whiskey.

Rishala took a long drink from his whiskey. "To being alive. We should be dead."

Bilbus poured some wine into a mug and gave it to Morianna. He poured himself a mug. "To being alive." He downed the mug in a single, long, gulp.

Morianna lifted her mug. "To meeting my daughter." She downed the mug. "It was not a good meeting."

Ingaborgen joined the other three at the table. "What's the party?"

"To life and daughters," Bilbus suggested as he poured another mug for himself. He filled Morianna's mug before finding one for Ingaborgen. "Mine will be the end of me, I'm sure."

"Your life?" Ingaborgen asked.

"My daughter. Takes after me and Adria. The worst parts of me and Adria."

"I really don't know any of you," Ingaborgen conceded. "We've been traveling together for a couple of weeks now. I've seen you fighting frog men in Londoun, and there were the drow in Ithell's Town. And we survived a mountain exploding. What is your tale? I'm tired of being confused and surprised all the time."

Morianna laughed. "Don't start over. It was hard enough the first time," she complained. "I'm not drunk enough for it to make sense."

"But she hasn't heard," Bilbus protested. "Okay, it started three years ago in a bar. Rishala?"

Rishala lowered his bottle of whiskey. "What?"

"You're the story teller. Tell the story."

"Och." Rishala took another drink. "I met Bilbus in Londoun. I had been traveling for some time, looking for someone..."

Rishala regaled the people in the hold with a summary of the party's journeys, across Avillonia and the deserts of al-Rhayidh. As he finished his narrative, he noticed that Morianna had passed out.

Bilbus stood unsteadily. "Nice story, Rishala. At least it wasn't about Phaeree." He looked at Morianna. "I'll put her in a hammock."

The baron lifted Morianna and stumbled forward. The tilt of the floor and the excessive amounts of port wine added up, and he found himself falling down. Morianna fell against him, still unconscious.

"Close enough," Bilbus decided as he faded to sleep.

Eric and Breanna returned to Breanna's room to change into dry clothing and rest. The talking and laughing in the hold had become louder over the evening for a few hours before it tapered away. The couple decided to see how everyone else was doing.

In the hold, they found most of the refugees sleeping in hammocks. Rishala and Ingaborgen were snoozing at a table. Bilbus and Morianna lay together on the floor, still damp from the rain outside.

Breanna scowled. "There's something wrong about seeing Bilbus with my mother."

Eric gently shook Bilbus awake. "What do you think Adria would do if she saw you like this?" he asked.

Bilbus glanced at Morianna. He shifted a foot away from her. She moaned and rolled over, laying one arm across his chest as she cuddled against him for warmth. "She'd kill me," Bilbus slurred before dozing off.

Breanna sighed quietly. She slipped back into her room to get some pouches with headache powder. She put the pouches under Rishala's hand, on the table, where they would be found. She then took Eric back to her room to sleep.

The drow garrison had waited long enough, their leader decided. He walked over to the Portal, with several of his cohorts readying magickal bows. With a deft weave of Heka, the drow caused the Portal to dissolve open.

Instead of a room, a glowing reddish substance began flowing in, moving like molasses. The drow touched the stuff. It was molten stone, quickly coagulating as it oozed onto the Island. The drow was immediately glad that heat did nothing in the Tunnels. Still, there was no way to get through the Portal to inspect the damage that had been done.

The drow unraveled the weave that held the Portal open. As the Heka wafted away, he heard it.

Crack.

The drow climbed onto the lava that blocked the Portal.

Crack.

He inspected the edge of the Portal that had not been covered by the inflow. A chunk of the Portal as big as his fingernail had cracked off and fallen onto the lava. He picked up the chunk and went back to the garrison.

"What do you make of this?" he wondered as he held the stone. "This is a chip of the Portal."

"But the Portal is invulnerable," one of the other drow said.

"The molten stone blocked the Portal as the Portal closed. Maybe it damaged the granite?"

A third drow went to inspect the lava. "Look!" he shouted as he pointed at the stone floor of the Island.

The other drow gathered around where he pointed. A small fissure, hard to see at first, spread away from the Portal. It branched as it spread, and close to the Portal, it became more prominent.

"We need to report to the Baroness immediately," the leader decided. "Let's march."

The drow left the Suderpol Portal, heading for the Tunnel to Erelhei Cinlu's Portal.

Rishala stirred slowly to the throbbing pain in his head. As he lifted his head, he noticed the pouches under his hand. Smiling to himself, Rishala thanked Breanna for her foresight. He took Bilbus's empty wine mug and filled it with water. He mixed the powder into it and took the concoction. It was bitter, but it soothed the ache quickly. He heard Bilbus moaning, so he went to fill the mug with more water.

"Adria," Bilbus moaned, "I had the weirdest dream." He paused. The woman laying against him did not feel like Adria. The body felt different. He opened an eye a crack to see reddish brown hair with strands of silver. "Bree? No, wait. How long was I out?"

After reviewing what he remembered, he carefully extricated himself from under Morianna. She stirred. Bilbus realized gratefully that Rishala was sitting at the table with a mug and a pouch of Breanna's headache herbs. He took the powder and poured it into the mug.

As Morianna sat up, Bilbus offered her the mug. "Here. You'll need this." He then prepared one for himself. As he took a drink of the palliative, he smiled at Breanna.

She walked towards him, counting slowly. "One... Two..."

"Three?" Bilbus added.

Breanna slapped him on the side of the head. "That's for my hair."

Bilbus laughed nervously. "Oh. That."

Eric entered the hold. "Good. You're awake, Bilbus. Come with me. We need to survey the damage."

Bilbus followed him out. The sky was hazy, but clearing. The column of ash still bellowed from the remains of Suderpol's valley, but the winds were carrying it away, to the west.

The two circled the ship several times, Eric listing some of the things they saw. "The mast is broken. Good thing there's a lot of freshly felled timber up the valley. Keel looks to be intact, but there are holes in the hull. It's going to take too long to repair, even if we had a shipwright."

Bilbus looked towards the shoreline. "The shipwright was washed out by the wave."

By the time they finished circling the ship, several centaurs had joined them, as had the party and several of the Church Knights.

A centaur offered, "We can take you to Kieta, two legs. You can find a Javik ship."

Eric scowled. "That will take too long. We need to head for Londoun as quickly as possible."

Rishala suggested, "I can use a faerie casting when the next full moon is up. That will be in about a week."

The centaur recommended, "We can travel west with you until we find a boat."

"Agreed," Eric said. "Let's grab what we can. We'll need to torch the ship, so they can't repair it and use it again."

The party made ready to travel, dividing up supplies as best they could amongst the slaves and knights. As Breanna picked out clothing to carry, she set aside some for her mother. Bilbus looked at the dress.

"You need to give her the other one," he stated. "Her hips are wider than yours."

Breanna scowled at Bilbus. "How would you know."

"I slept with her last night, remember?"

Breanna threw a shoe at him.

"What? I slept with you before. Nothing happened then, either." He smirked. "I've slept with both you and your mom."

"Bilbus is right," Eric interjected. "About the dress," he quickly added.

"It's a dress," Breanna protested. "It shouldn't matter."

Bilbus shook his head.

"Boys," Breanna muttered as she set aside the dress Bilbus picked.

Once the party was ready to travel, Eric helped the centaurs to light the ship. As it burned, Bilbus frowned. "I'm losing a ship," he said to no one. "I had claimed it, even." As his friends walked away, he jogged to catch up with them.

Breanna walked alongside Bilbus and Rishala.

She asked, "Rishala, my mother said she was part of the Circle of Mages. I heard the name in a dream, but I don't know anything about them."

"When the Kelltic mages created the Dark One's prison, they used an ancient book called the Codex. It has terrible, powerful magicks. The mages saw what happened - the Dark One's Curse was a side-effect of the Codex's magicks mixing with the Dark One's - so they decided to safeguard the book to keep it from being used for evil. They split the book into thirteen parts, one for each mage, and they hid them. Somehow, they lost track of the parts.

"The Circle of Mages are a group trying to recover the Codex, and any other powerful books they can find, to safeguard them once more."

"What should we do?" Breanna wondered. "What if they are in league with the drow?"

"I don't know," Rishala admitted.

"But, you know all," Breanna protested.

Bilbus snickered. He then turned serious. "The circle takes these books and hides them somewhere. Where? In a warehouse? Maybe all we need to do is get in good graces with this Circle, find their warehouse, and loot it."

Ignoring Bilbus, Rishala said, "She's been away from her organization for a long time. Surely she needs to check in with someone and debrief them. Maybe we can make sure that she meets with the Sword of the Church, instead, too see if she's bad or not." He paused for a moment. "How will your dad take finding out Morianna is alive."

"If you thought I took it bad..." Breanna stopped.

As those three discussed Morianna, Morianna walked with Eric and the former slaves. Eric discovered that all of them were Kellts, enslaved for several years in Suderpol before Edralve began a campaign to round them up for the Forges. All of them were eager to return to Londoun and their former lives.

Two days passed before the party spotted a ship. It was a large merchant, with three masts, sailing east a short distance off of the coast. Bilbus pulled out a small mirror and flashed sunlight at the ship to get its attention. After a minute, masts furled and the ship lowered a skiff.

"Well, they spotted us," Bilbus said. "The ship's high in the water. It's not carrying cargo. Let's hope they're pirates."

"What if they are pirates?" Breanna asked.

"We kill them and we take their ship."

"And if they're not?"

Bilbus shrugged. "We pay them to take us to Londoun." He looked at the centaurs. "We don't want them to be seen with us. It could cause problems, depending on who they are."

"Agreed," Nikolas stated. "We will wait in the trees to see if they take you aboard. If they do not, we will return to travel with you. Otherwise, we return to the Steppes, and we shall see you another time."

Breanna followed the centaurs to the trees. "It was good to see you again, second mother, second sister, and second father. I hope it will not be so long next time before we see again. Please, come visit us in Ithell's Town. You will always be welcome there."

"It was good to see you, as well, Breanna of Clan Ithell and of Clan Brezhou, of the Tribe of the Far Gallopers," Dumita said.

A thought occurred to Breanna. "Dumita, the drow changed the magicks of the darkblades. Will the cure be different?"

"I don't know. Perhaps I can find out. The boat is on shore now, Breanna. You should join your two-legs friends."

Breanna reached the shoreline as the crew of the skiff jumped into the water to pull it ashore. One of the men walked forward.

"What in the nine hells happened over there?" he asked in a Caledonian accent, nodding towards the plume of ash visible on the horizon.

Bilbus glanced back at the gray clouds. "The seventh hell."

Eric interrupted. "Our ship was too close to the shore. We were dashed onto land by a large wave. We need transportation."

"Aye," the man said. "The captain will take ye. We'll need to make several trips to get ye all to the ship." The man smiled at Rishala. "And we have some fresh whiskey from the homeland."

Rishala grinned. He, Eric, and Bilbus took the first trip out to the ship. The crew of the ship tossed a rope net over the railing. The three men climbed aboard.

An older man with a ruddy complexion stepped forward. "I'm Captain Graig McAilic. Welcome to the Rising Wave, me ship. What in the Nine Hells happened o'er there?"

Bilbus twitched. The ship's name sounded familiar.

"The seventh Hell," Eric answered. "We need to go to Londoun."

"Ah. The hold is empty. We were on the way to Kieta to get some tonkari pelts and Javik ales before I saw that cloud. We could turn back to Londoun for the right compensation. Say, eight gold?"

"Agreed," Eric said. "I will pay you one now. Seven more will be paid on arrival." He handed the captain a coin.

"Excellent. I'll get both skiffs in the water to shuttle your crew over here."

Once the humans were all aboard, Captain McAilic ordered the ship about. It sailed briskly east, towards distant Londoun. Bilbus leaned against the railing near the bow, next to Eric and Rishala. He ran his hands along the worn railing, feeling the nicks in the old wood. He looked down at the nicks, noticing how several of them were close together, like claws.

Oh, Hells... "This is the Rising Wave," Bilbus moaned.

"Yes," Eric said, curious.

"The Salty Anchor. Rising Wave. Don't you see?"

"What does this have to do with the bar?"

"Aye, Bilbus. You're making nae sense."

Bilbus turned to face his friends. "The Salty Anchor was built by a captain who quit the sea after his ship was blown off course to the Middle of the Vasmar. Bad things happened - things crawled out of the sea and some of the crew died. The anchor got dropped. When it was hauled back and dried, there were large salt crystals on it. You saw the anchor. The Middle of the Vasmar is very salty, even though the rest of it is fresh water. This ship was the one that was in the Middle of the Vasmar."

Bilbus turned back to look at the length of the ship.

"We're on a cursed ship."

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Original Draft 24 January 2006

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