Darkness Rising, Pages 301-350

                “I could get word to Kirsten if I needed to.” Ashlyn assured them.  They all knew that she and Kirsten Rethbourne, the youngest child of the ruling family of Valor, were the best of friends.  The two women, along with Talia Moonstone, were of an age and had been close as sisters almost since birth.  “In fact, I think I should, just to explain to her what’s happened.  It won’t take long for word of our “crimes” to reach Valor.”

                Falcon nodded.  “That’s a good idea actually.  It would be good to have allies in high places later on.”  Then he glanced around, suddenly curious.  “What are they claiming we’ve done, by the way?”

                “Treason of course.”  Reaper supplied with a light hearted tone.  “And mind you, they don’t have to find a way to prove the charges as they pretty much represent the law in this city.  With Galon dead,” the assassin nodded slightly toward Ashlyn, who glanced away, “they’ll be naming someone else to the position of grand general quite soon.  Personally my bet would be Ravishe Falcone, who’s always been something of a father figure to Huntyr and his cronies.”

                “Which would in turn leave the position of head Sentinel wide open.”  Falcon responded.

                “But there are three people ready and willing to take up that mantle, aren’t there?  Huntyrs’ other cronies, Cyrrik Eaglehart, “ again the assassin glanced at Ashlyn, who grimaced at the sound of her brothers name but said nothing, “Talon Rethbourne and Rellik Vashόn.”

                “One of them is in the city now and would likely love that opportunity.”  Said Beth bitterly.  “Cyrrik would jump at the chance, wouldn’t he?”  Ashlyn nodded but stayed quiet.

                “What about Gar?  He and Galon were co-leaders of the militia.  He won’t just stand by and let Falcone take over, he despises the man.”

                “No doubt their hunting Wolfgar Graybeard as well.”  Reaper retorted.  “One of the others would take his place alongside Falcone.  It won’t be long before they’ll control every aspect of law and order in Peacehope… and half of what’s found on Algeron in general!”

                “And there’s very little we can do about it, is there?”  Asked the ranger.

                “Not yet there isn’t.”  Reaper told him.  “But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing we can do in general.”  The others turned to him, questioning looks on their faces.  Reaper returned their looks in kind, then elaborated. “We can’t go to Errgaunt or Trey’Elden to help the others, since by the time we got there whatever was going to happen will have done so.  But we can trust to them to take care of themselves, which means they could be returning at any time.  When they do, we should be ready to aid them.  They may have an inkling of what is coming when they get back here, or they may not, but either way they will need help.  That help has to be us.”

                “You’re talking about a resistance.”  Falcon said softly, his eyes narrowed as he regarded the assassin.

                Reaper nodded his acceptance of that, then gestured broadly at them all.  “The deck is stacked against us.  I guarantee you that Shroude and his pretender wife will freeze any and all assets held by the Moonstone family.  Your homes will be taken and likely placed under guard in the event any of your return.  We have an opportunity here though, we have something they didn’t count on.”  Reaper pointed at the ranger.  “We have Falcon, the one man on this island that could set us up in the forests of this land.  That’s part of the reason they wanted to take him when he woke up I’m sure, was to keep him from being able to help us.  But he’s here, and there are skills the rest of us possess that can come in handy as well.  We can do this… and I think we should.  It may be the only chance that the others have when they arrive.”

                “There are others that will help us too, maybe not openly.  But the Moonstones… and more over the Dragons… have friends in this city.”  Sasha said proudly.  “They won’t turn their backs on us.”

                “That’s another thing.” Reaper said in a cautious voice.  “It won’t take long before Huntyr realizes he has the power to disband the Dragons.  He will have the authority to have their adventuring charter destroyed, and that will mean that they cannot legally be considered an adventuring group any longer.  So anyone caught helping them will be guilty of aiding and abetting.”

                “This just gets better and better.”  Ashlyn groused.

                “What about you?”  Falcon asked her, “You still have position in the city.  They don’t know you’ve been helping us.  You can maintain your position within the militia and spy for us.”

                “I’d rather die than work for the likes of Ravishe Falcone!”  She hissed.  “That’s why I joined the militia and not the Sentinels!”

                “Falcon is right though.”  Sasha said, sitting up now and swinging her long legs off the couch.  “Your status as an officer of the militia could be a benefit to us.  We’ll need people on the inside, people that can warn us of what’s happening in the city and pass notes to others we may not be able to talk to.”

                “I can certainly understand how the prospect of working for a corrupt ass like Falcone is unpleasant,” Reaper told the blonde gently, “but they’re right.  You’ll be uniquely placed to be a help to us.  Especially if you can… endear yourself to him.”  She glanced at him sharply but didn’t ask him to elaborate on that thought. 

                The look on her face showed how distasteful the thought was, but Ashlyn was no dummy.  She nodded, “All right, I’ll stay for now.  But I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stomach working for the man.  And so help me… I may kill my brother before I’m done.”

                “He’s a Sentinel.  Chances are you won’t even have to deal with him much.”  Falcon reminded her.  At that moment the sound of booted feet on the patio out front clomping toward the door caused them all to fall silent. 

                Someone hammered on the door and a voice called out, “Open in the name the Count!”

                Falcon rolled his eyes, thinking that Huntyr wasn’t the official count yet but he was already cashing in on the power the title gave him.  Ashlyn glanced wildly around at the others.  Sasha had leapt to her feet and Reaper had stepped away from the wall, his hands sliding to his waist beneath his cloak, no doubt near to his weapon.  “You all need to get out of here!  There’s a cellar and an exit from there.  Take it… I’ll delay them as much as I can.  When you’ve found somewhere to go… get word to me and I’ll start spreading the word among our mutual friends.”  Another pounding and more shouting from outside.  “Now go!  We can talk more once you’re all safe!”  With that Reaper led the way out of the room and the sisters followed with Falcon bringing up the rear.  Before he left the sitting room he cast a glance over his shoulder at the soldier, she was already moving toward the door, forcing her face into an angry scowl.  Wondering what was to become of all of them, he turned and disappeared through the door that hid the stairs to the cellar.

                Ember, daughter of Sorn raised her head and looked fearfully at the door to her cell, wondering if her jailer had come back to make good on his threat.  When she had first been arrested, she had thought it some sort of mistake, but when they had dragged the young woman down into the dungeon and flung her against the wall, then chained her to it the truth had started to sink in… there had been no mistake, she was being imprisoned against her will… she just didn’t understand why.  The chief jailer was a large, obese orc with sagging, light green skin and beady little black eyes that danced when they looked at the young barbarian.  He had promised her that he would come back and visit her in the night, personally see to it that she didn’t maintain her virginity any longer than he felt necessary.

                Ember had cried a lot in those first few hours, terrified and not understanding what these people were doing to her or why.  They had been so nice to her at first, but then the guards had come to her room, the one she had shared with Kelvan and declared that they were arresting her on suspicion of inciting treason.  Ember, woefully under educated, didn’t even understand what that meant, not really.  She had resisted at first, but she was no warrior, not like Shayla whom she had so admired, and so they had restrained her and brought her down here and locked her away with no one but that fat orc for company.  And he had threatened her with rape, though it had now been three days and thus far threaten was all he had done, but he was scary and seemed to enjoy terrorizing her.  Now she feared it was he returning to threaten her some more, or perhaps to finally make good on that threat.

                But it was not her jailer, whom she had learned was named Grolug, but was instead a group of four of the palace guards, each pair dragging between them a man who was semi-conscious.  These two men were a couple of strangest looking individuals Ember had ever seen, though admittedly she had not seen much of the world having grown up in the relatively sheltered Trey’Elden mountains.  One of the men was large, taller even than Devlin (though perhaps not so tall as Kellinor, she thought with a pang of loss) his skin like ebony his hair a brilliant orange that was worn short and close to his scalp.  His eyes were closed as he was dragged into the cell and the soldiers dragged him toward the wall to her left, where she had long ago noticed a pair of empty manacles hanging at the same height as hers.  The other man was dragged to a similar pair of manacles to the right, and while his appearance was perhaps not so odd as the first mans, Ember had still never seen his like.  His skin was pale and nearly translucent and he had no hair that she could see anywhere on his body.  Both men were naked, which she noticed with a blush, and while the dark skinned one was a rather well endowed man, the other was sexless, at least as far as she could see.  He was thin and seemed to lack any muscle definition either, but the bruises that adorned his slender frame were ugly and purple.  She wondered idly what race he was. 

                When the guards had finished chaining the two men to the walls they turned and left, not so much as glancing at Ember or speaking to her as they went.  She said nothing as they left, frightened of attracting their attention for fear of what they might do to her.  She had not been stripped naked when she was chained, and for this she was grateful, but she certainly wasn’t wearing much.  As a member of the Thunder Hammer tribe, she was used to not wearing much, though they generally wore cloaks of bear skin to ward off the cold.  Beneath those, however, the clothing worn by tribal women was typically rather scant.  However, since arriving in Peacehope Ember had taken something of a liking to the fashions of the women here and had accepted the gifts of several dresses pushed upon her by the servants of the palace, wanting the young lady to blend in more with the other women that were seen in the halls and court.  But when she had been arrested she had not been allowed to wear one of these dresses and had instead been thrown in the cell in what she had been wearing when they dragged her from her bed… a light silk nightgown that did nothing to ward off the chill that radiated through her from the stone floor and the wall.

                Ember regarded her two new cell mates warily, but thought that if they were chained to the walls then they weren’t likely to be any danger to her.  She didn’t recognize either of them, but she thought that if they were prisoners here like her, then perhaps they could prove to be allies to the young would be princess.  “Hello?” she called timidly to them, glancing from one to the other.  It wasn’t until she had examined him more closely that she realized the large one with the black skin had been beaten as badly as the oddly featureless one across from him.  The problem there was that the bruises were harder to see because they blended in so well.  “Hello?  Can you hear me?”

                A moan to her right drew her gaze to the thin, featureless man as he started to shift against the wall, unconsciously pulling at his bonds and when he realized that he was in chains he came awake suddenly and violently, struggling mightily against the manacles that held him.  Ember watched this quietly, her heart pounding, wondering if the man was a bit mad.  It wasn’t until he stopped struggling that he noticed her sitting there, her back to the wall, her wrists chained above her head.  She could see his throat work as he swallowed, no doubt to wet it so that speaking would be easier.  “I apologize,” he said hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper and she saw that there was a nasty bruise across his throat, “I didn’t see you there… nor did I expect to awake in chains.”  He pulled on them ruefully, though far less violently than the thrashing he had woken up to, “To be quite frank, I didn’t really expect to wake up at all!”

                “Who… are you?” she asked incredulously.

                He looked down at himself and his wide, dark eyes widened in surprise.  “Oh hell!  This is rather awkward….”  He glanced up at the girl again, then shrugged as if there was nothing he could do about it now and closed his eyes a moment in concentration.  Ember gasped as she saw his form start to shift, his pale skin darkening to a sun kissed tan, his scalp becoming covered in black hair that he let fall past his shoulders, his nose lengthening and looking a bit sharper, his thin lips filling out while his eyes went from large and nearly black to almond shaped and light brown.  It wasn’t until he grew a pair of delicately pointed elven ears on either side of his head that she realized he hadn’t had any ears before!

                When this bizarre transformation had finished she stared at him, struck momentarily dumb.  When her voice returned she said, “You… you’re a… you’re….”

                He smiled, a bit ruefully, “A shifter, yeah.  Otherwise known as a Changeling… or, as my people call ourselves, the Formless.”

                Ember swallowed audibly, her eyes playing over his still naked form, though now he was far from sexless and she had to turn her head away in embarrassment at the sight of him.  She couldn’t help wondering if it was a conscious choice for him to make himself so large!  “I… I’m sorry to react so… you startled me.  I’ve never encountered one of your kind before.”

                Lance Crowe smiled slightly, “Are you sure?  You would likely never have known, we don’t tend to advertise our presence.”  He sighed, glancing over at the dark skinned man.  “I wonder why they didn’t kill us.”

                Ember turned back to face him, studiously keeping her eyes on his face, which was not that handsome she suddenly realized.  Surely if he could look like anyone he wanted he could have made a more attractive face?  Putting that aside, she asked him, “Now that you have taken this form, you do look familiar.  Have we met?”

                He nodded slightly, “Briefly, at the meeting where Ariana explained to everyone what was happening and we split into teams.  I was with the elven woman with the violet eyes… the one they called Blaze.”  He glanced around with a concerned frown, as though he just realized that his friend wasn’t there with them, then he returned his gaze to her.  “My name is Lance Crowe, and that unfortunate fella over there is Commander Relic, Templar of the Church of Light, though that particular affiliation hasn’t done much for him in this situation.”

                Desperate for answers and recognizing him now as one of the good guys, she said, “Can you tell me what’s happening here?  I… I’m very confused.  They say that I was inciting treason but… I don’t see how that’s possible.  I’m not even sure I know what it means!”

                His expression became somewhat pitying at that.  “I’m afraid you’ve become something of a scapegoat for Huntyr Shroude and whoever that… woman is that he’s replaced the Countess with!”  He spat on the ground and she saw that there was blood mixed with the saliva.  “She must be a twin or something, but Blaze never mentioned her mother having a twin.”

                “Her mother?”  Ember repeated.

                Lance nodded.  “The woman we travel with, the monster hunter they call Blaze, is the daughter of the true Countess Shroude, which is no doubt why they arrested us and brought us here when we came out of the Moonstone family tomb.  They knew that Tanya, that is to say Blaze, would have recognized the imposter and they didn’t want to risk that.”  He shook his head, looking as though he was still trying to make sense of everything.  He met her eyes, his expression suddenly serious, “Your name is Ember right?”  She nodded, still feeling scared and confused.  “Tell me exactly what they told you when you were arrested.”

                She took a few calming breaths, closing her eyes to think back the two days to when she was put in chains.  “They said that my brothers and I had come here in response to a summons from Ariana Moonstone, that the story about shadow elves enslaving our people was a fabrication.  They said that she had gone back with my betrothed and the others in order to try and entice my people into fighting for her, to make an army that she was then going to use to overthrow Peacehope.  They accused me of having been left behind as a spy to report on everything that was happening while Ariana and my betrothed and his siblings were gone.”

                Lance nodded sagely.  “When they arrested us as we were coming out of the tunnels beneath the cemetery, they told us about some cock and bull charges involving trying to recruit a necromancer to add undead to our ranks.”  He shook his head.  “It’s inventive, but it would never hold up in a court of law.”

                “They don’t need to worry about a court of law.”  Ember gasped as Relic spoke, for neither of them had realized he had regained consciousness.  As they looked at him he was lifting his head to regard them and she saw that his face was a mass of swollen and bloody bruises.  His eyes seemed to glow green from within the swollen mass of his cheeks.  “Huntyr Shroude and that pretender are the law here now, they have everything they need to make those charges stick, no matter how ludicrous they are.  They have no burden of proof, they merely needed an excuse to jail us, and like you I’m surprised they haven’t killed us.  Obviously they intend to.”

                “Why do you say that?”  Ember choked out, her visage frightened.

                “That’s the penalty for treason.  They can’t accuse us of it and let us live.  It would seem like weakness and he can’t afford to look weak.  So accusing us of treason serves multiple purposes for them.  First, it gets rid of potential enemies and second it makes them look strong in the face of the people they wish to rule.”  Relic explained all of this in a matter of fact voice, as though the thought of impending death was nothing new to him.  He glanced around swiftly and then looked over at Lance.  “Blaze is not here?”

                The demon hunter shook his head.  “No.  I saw her, Krystel and Talia briefly when they hauled me into that interrogation room of theirs, though they didn’t ask me anything.”  Relic shook his head, indicating that he hadn’t been asked anything either.  The beating was just for show, to make it look as though they had been thoroughly interrogated.  “They’ll likely keep Tanya and the Moonstones alive, they make good bargaining chips.”  He glanced at the frightened young barbarian girl, “You do as well, should your fiancé and his siblings return.  But us,” he glanced at Relic and a silent message passed between them, “we’re too dangerous to let live, and too valuable as a message not to use.”

                Relic tested his chains experimentally and found they were very solid.  “Can you shift out of those cuffs?”  he asked Lance.

                The demon hunter was already examining his manacles, but he shook his head.  “I had reverted to my natural form when I passed out.  I can make myself smaller, but I can’t make myself any thinner than my natural form, and these were clamped to that width.  I’ll not slip them any time soon.  In fact, I had to make this form a few pounds lighter to keep them from cutting off the circulation to my hands.”        

                Relic swore violently, making Ember jump.  “Then we’re stuck here… waiting to die.”  It didn’t escape the attention of Lance or Ember that he hadn’t said waiting for rescue.

Chapter Nine

                Strut was fuming, he didn’t understand what was taking so long.  There was no reason he should be held in jail this long for a simple case of barroom brawling.  He had already been here over night, and usually that was all that was required.  He had spent enough of those nights in jail to know, having trashed more than his share of taverns over the years.  Once or twice he had even done it on purpose when he had run out of coin, that way he was guaranteed a bed to sleep in for the night.  But this was getting ridiculous.  The day was well on toward noon by now and there had been no sign of anyone coming by to let him out of this cell!  He wondered whether Tasha was still locked up or not.  He had seen Skull leave earlier, the bastard had been laughing at the barbarian, left in his cell for who knew how long? 

                He had been lounging on his cot for the better part of three hours when he finally heard the sound of a guard approaching.  It was the same man who had brought him the one meal he had had since getting locked up in here, and he didn’t have another one, which meant to Strut that he was likely getting released… finally!  The guard stopped, blinking sleepily at the lock on the barbarians cell door and fumbled for a few moments with a ring of keys before finding the right one.  Strut realized that the man had been on duty all night and was probably wondering when he would be relieved, just as Strut had been wondering when he was to be released.

                “All right you,” said the guard, finally pulling the door open, “you’re free to go.  We can’t hold you any longer and the owner of that tavern has decided not to press charges.”

                Strut got slowly to his feet, trying appear casual, not wanting to let on that he had been getting antsy.  “Really?  My lucky day then, huh?”  The guard shrugged and motioned him forward, which Strut did, exiting the cell and pausing as the guard closed it behind him.  “What about the elf?  She get released too?”

                The mans eyebrows shot up at that.  “You mean that sexy as hell archer you got brought in here with last night?”  Strut nodded.  “She was only in here about six hours, someone paid her bail late last night and she was released.”  Strut frowned at that, his eyes narrowing.

                “Do you know who paid it?”  he asked the guard.

                “Do I look like a fucking receptionist?  I just lock ‘em and unlock ‘em!”  The guard shoved Strut toward the door at the end of the hall and the warrior stifled the urge to shove the mans head through the bars of his now vacant cell.  That would be a surefire way to wind up back in there, possibly on a more permanent basis, and he suddenly had a strong urge to find Tasha and make sure she was okay. 

                Out in the booking room he signed for his weapons and noticed with a scowl that his money pouch was empty.  He had lost all his coin, including his winnings from the card game the night before.  “Where’s my gold?”

                “Why do you think the owner didn’t press charges?” The desk sergeant barked at him.  “We paid for the damages out of your coin!”  He nodded toward the door and Strut, tempted for a moment to drag the man across the desk by his throat, merely glowered at him for a moment, the glared around at the other guards in the lobby area, then turned and left the jail house.

                Outside on the street he paused and glanced both ways, wondering where to start looking for Tasha.  He thought he might try the inn they had been staying in, briefly thinking about the fact that he had been fairly certain before that fight had broken out that he and the elf would be enjoying each others company last night, when he heard a soft whistling noise and something hit him hard on the shoulder, staggering him back a step.  He glanced down with a frown, feeling a sudden white hot pain spreading through his chest and about the time he recognized the shaft of an arrow protruding from his shoulder, just above his heart, there was another whistle and another thump and he staggered again as another feathered shaft appeared, this one jutting out from his broad chest just below the heart.

                “Fuck me.” He growled as his knees buckled and he fell to all fours, hearing another arrow thud into the wall of the jail house behind him, having cut through the air where his head had been a moment before.  He tried to stand, knowing he needed to move for cover but his body wasn’t responding.  He was bleeding profusely but he knew that it hadn’t been enough to hinder his reflexes, now, the arrows had to be poisoned.  He succeeded only in rolling onto his back and staring up at the blue sky, studded with fluffy white clouds.  Another whistle and a thud and he felt the impact in his chest as a third arrow struck home, then there were distant shouts and he was aware of men crouched over him, large shields held to block the progress of any further arrows.  Someone was examining his wounds… then nothing.

                “It’s a little snug.”  Tasha commented drily, examining her reflection in the full length mirror mounted on the wall of the small room where Nightshade claimed she lived.  The dress she was wearing belonged to the young rogue, and it was a few sizes too small, but Tasha didn’t really think that would be a problem.  The dress was black, as was everything the pretty young rogue owned evidently, daringly low cut with wide straps that rose up over her shoulders and a slit up one side of the skirt that rose clear to her hip.  It fit the elf like a second skin and she could well imagine the reactions she was going to get being seen in it, though of course there was only one reaction she was concerned with.

                “Well excuse the hell out of me for not being quite so well endowed as you are!”  Alicia sniped, standing behind the elf and adjusting one of the straps so that it rode more smoothly over Tasha’s shoulder.

                “It wasn’t meant as a criticism,” the elf commented, “more of an observation.”  Ever since she and Alicia had come here to the small apartment, leaving Bryant alone to convalesce for the evening, Tasha had noted that the young woman seemed rather bitter and somewhat resentful toward her.  It had taken the elf a little while to realize what was wrong… the thief was jealous.  It probably wasn’t every day that so beautiful a girl met someone that might be considered prettier than her.  Tasha didn’t necessarily see herself in that way, but she knew that many men did and this wasn’t the first time she had been subjected to the jealousies of women.  Alicia was still young, exactly how young Tasha couldn’t really tell, but she had yet to grow comfortable with her own looks.

                “Every man in this town is going to be distracted to the point of divorce if you go walking down the street in this thing.”  The thief said with a wry smirk, as though the thought of Tasha causing all the men in Milligant to be single again was humorous.

                “I’m not out to catch the eye of every man in town, merely to keep one off his guard.”  She glanced toward the rooms one small window and saw the sun was setting.  She sighed, and realized that the borrowed dress was a little too tight to let her do that comfortably.  “He’ll be at the bar soon enough, I had probably better go get this over with.”

                Nightshade stepped back and examined the elf critically, then shook her head and said with a half joking tone to her voice, “It’s official.  I hate you.”

                Tasha smiled, “You have nothing to be concerned about!”  She turned and gave the thief a similar critical look.  The young woman had pulled her long white hair back in a ponytail and was wearing a dress that would dazzle most any man who beheld her in it.  It was strapless and rode low on her bosom, hugging her curves sensuously.  The skirt was slit up both sides so that her long legs were plainly visible every time she took a step.  “You’re not exactly hideous.”

                “Do you think this mage is gong to be with Talon?”  Alicia asked her, now stepping in front of the mirror herself for a last minute gussying up.

                “I’d say it’s likely.  Talon has taken it upon himself to be the wizards keeper.”  Tasha shook her head.  “We’ll have to separate them if we want to ask them questions.”

                “Is he at least cute?”  Alicia asked with a frown.

                “Which one?”  Tasha asked, and Alicia shot her a scowl in the mirror.  The elf smiled, “Arkayne is… well he’s a bastard actually, and no, he’s not what I would consider attractive.  Talon on the other hand…” she felt that flutter in her stomach again and still could not understand this bizarre attraction she felt for the soldier, “…he’s a handsome devil, but he has a reputation for being a bad boy.”

                Alicia grinned devilishly.  “There’s nothing wrong with a bad boy.”

                Realizing that it would look suspicious if they showed up at the tavern together, Tasha and Alicia spaced their arrival by twenty minutes, the elf arriving first.  She walked into the room, pushing slowly through the swinging doors at the entrance and paused just inside, holding the doors open to either side as she scanned the room with her eyes.  She saw them seated at a table between the entrance and the bar and realized immediately that they had already seen her.  Talon smiled, his eyes dancing over her body, looking like it had been poured into the dress.  She flushed pleasantly, liking the feel of his eyes on her and wondering what it would feel like to have his hands on her instead.  ‘Whoa!’ she berated herself, ‘Easy girl!’  She started toward them, feeling the eyes of every other man in the room on her as she made her way to the table where Talon and Arkayne sat.  The mage hadn’t turned, but she could see that he was watching her reflection in the mirror mounted behind the bar and he seemed to be smirking slightly.

                “You gentlemen mind if I join you?” she asked, indicating an empty chair to Talon’s right.  The soldier motioned toward it, reaching out with a foot to kick it away from the table for her.  She nodded her thanks at that and sat, smoothing the skirt down over her legs, more to accentuate the lines of her legs than out of any concern for the skirt.

                “You look incredible.”  Talon told her, leaning toward her slightly.

                She smiled her thanks at him, then her expression turned serious.  “Did you hear about Vance?”

                He nodded.  “I did. I’ve already been to identify his body.  I’m close to his father, so I thought it fitting if I made arrangements to send him home.  He’s already on his way.”  He glanced around the crowded tavern.  “I thought I’d see Strut here, I know he likes his ale.”

                Tasha shrugged as if the whereabouts of the barbarian were of little concern to her.  “You heard about Vance, did you hear he died in a bar fight?”  Talon nodded and Tasha laughed bitterly.  “Well, that son of a bitch was the one that started the fight, so I don’t really care where he’s at, though I suspect he’s still cooling his heels in a jail cell.  It’ll be good for him to learn some humility for a change, I don’t think we should worry about paying his fine till we’re ready to leave.  At least in jail he’ll stay out of trouble.”

                Talon raised his eyebrows at this proclamation but said nothing about it.  Instead he gestured at the sexy dress and asked, “So… what’s the occasion?”

                She smiled at him, “Does a lady need an occasion to look nice?  I’ve been wearing my traveling leathers for so long I just felt like I needed a change of pace.  I bought this off a clothes rack earlier today… it’s a little small but I think it works nicely.”

                “It does that.”  Arkayne said softly and Tasha ignored him, though her skin crawled with revulsion at the feel of the mages eyes on her.

                “The styles here in Errgaunt are not what I would call… modest, but I suppose all the women here dress like this.”  She said, leaning back in the chair and looking down at her decidedly unmodest dress.  She felt Talon’s eyes following hers, lingering on the way the low cut bodice clung to her breasts and hips, his eyes sliding along the smooth lines of her leg where it was now visible through the slit in the skirt.  Her heart raced slightly, finding to her consternation that she was rather enjoying the attention from the handsome young soldier.

                Suddenly, across the room, someone started to strum a mandolin and a woman’s voice began to sing, making Tasha ache for home.  Back in Hanover, her sister Kallysta was a minstrel and bard and the song that was being sun right now, the Knight and the Maiden, was one of her sisters favorites to play.

While traveling the road from here to there,

A maiden fair with flaxen hair,

Had her head in the clouds so was thus unaware,

Of the danger which was lurking there!

                Talon reached over suddenly and took her hand, surprising her as he pulled her to her feet.  “Dance with me Natashiana.”  It wasn’t a request, but she found that even if it were she would not have been opposed.  He turned and led her toward a small dance floor which was beret of other dancers at the moment.  She colored slightly, feeling eyes on them as he led her onto the floor, knowing that there were just as many eyes following her young man as were on her, though in his case it was jealousy that she appeared to be with him.  He reached the middle of the dance floor and turned sharply, jerking her arm forward and she gasped, finding herself suddenly pressed against his muscular frame, one arm about her waist, his hand on her lower back while the other still held her hand.  She placed her free hand on his chest and instinctively melted against him, imagining she felt his heart racing.  It felt wonderful in his arms… too wonderful if truth were known.  Something was definitely wrong with her and she was now fully on her guard.

‘Twas a dragon fierce and full of greed,

Who’d discovered himself a mortal need,

So he took the maid with the flaxen hair,

To lie with her within his lair!

                He leaned close to her, his lips brushing her delicately pointed ear as he whispered, “Surely you must have angel blood in your veins, for such beauty as yours cannot be entirely mortal.”  She flushed with pleasure at his words, aware that it was a genuine compliment, and rather imaginative, she had to admit.  She felt a little shiver of pleasure run through her suddenly as he sucked the tip of her ear into his mouth playfully and released it.  Before she could say anything in response to him however he stepped back from her a pace, twirling her expertly beneath his arm and then snapping her back toward him so that her high, round buttocks were pressed against his groin.  She felt his manhood straining against her backside and he was fully erect with his desire for her.  Her mouth was suddenly dry, her heart racing as she leaned back against him, feeling one of his hands slide along her flat stomach.  Her head found his shoulder as they rocked to the tune of the minstrel, who was playing in tandem with the bards words.

A knight renowned for noble deeds,

Did hear of this dragon and his greed,

The knight was determined the dragon should die,

So he rode for its lair though his end may be nigh!

                ‘Remember your mission here tonight girl.’  Tasha berated herself, at the same time thinking that he was suitably distracted right now for her to ask him a few questions.  “You know,” she said, having trouble forming the words as he was now nuzzling the side of her neck, “I heard one of the guards that arrested Strut and me last night after the bar fight, saying that they thought Vance may have been assassinated.  That the way his throat was slit said he was specifically marked for death… that and the fact that he was the only one to die in a random bar fight.”

                He raised his face slightly, inhaling the flowery scent of her hair as he said, “I am sorry for your loss Natashiana.”  The way he said her name sent another shiver through her, or was that his warm breath on the side of her neck?

                She shook her head.  “In truth, I barely knew him.  His loss does not affect me that strongly.  However, if he was targeted then it occurs to me that the rest of us might be in danger as well, don’t you think?”  He pushed her away from him suddenly, still gripping her hand and she spun, her skirt twirling upward to reveal her long legs and the men seated around the room hooted and hollered their approval of this.  “Oh!” she gasped as he jerked her back into his arms, her left leg extending now through the slit of the skirt, her inner thigh rubbing against his outer as she hooked that leg about his waist and allowed him to dip her backward, lowering his face over her, his mouth close enough to her generous cleavage that she could feel his breath on her there.  Men all around were whistling and catcalling, but Tasha noticed that there was another person seated at their table, an especially alluring young woman in a revealing black dress with a long white ponytail.  As he pulled her upright she said to Talon, “It appears our mage has an admirer.”

                Talon glanced quizzically over her shoulder, then smiled and shrugged.  “She’s pretty too, though she’s nothing on you.”  It was not lost on her that he hadn’t answered her question, but a moment later that fact was pushed well to the back of her mind as his lips suddenly found hers.  Tasha’s heart felt as though it would burst in her chest as she pressed herself eagerly against him, her mouth as hungry as his as she parted her soft, full lips and accepted his questing tongue between them.  His hand slid to her buttocks, pulling her tighter against him and she felt the length of him straining to get at her through his cotton pants.

The dragons lair was dank and hot,

But fear of the dragon the knight knew not!

So into its chamber the knight did charge,

To face this dragon so fierce and large!

                Tasha moaned deep in her throat, desire building within her.  She wanted this man more than she had ever wanted any other and while somewhere deep in her psyche that thought troubled her greatly, she was far too caught up in the passion of the moment to give it any attention.  Men around them were hooting and hollering, some were even asking Talon if they could have a turn when he was through with her.  After what seemed a long time and actually was several minutes, they broke the kiss and Talon Rethbourne looked deep into Tasha’s eyes, saw the passion burning there as brightly as he was sure was reflected in his own.

                “Your room or mine?” he asked her, his voice somewhat hoarse with desire.

                Tasha was still clutching at him, trying to press as much of her luscious form against him as she could.  “Which is closer?”

                He grinned at her, “Mine then.”

The battle was fierce and bloody ‘tis true,

But the knight he prevailed and ran him thru,

The maiden fair to the knight did say,

“Thank you kind sir, how shall I pay?”

                Tasha gasped as he stooped suddenly and swept her feet out from under her, cradling her against his body as he lifted her in his strong arms.  She slid her arms about his neck and pulled his face to hers, kissing him again hungrily as he started across the room, weaving between the tables.  A few men reached out and patted him on the back, congratulating him on a fine conquest and Tasha, who would normally have been mortified at such attention, couldn’t bring herself to care overmuch.  She was too lost in his touch, in his kiss, in her unusually powerful attraction to him.  Their lips were still fused together hungrily as he carried her to the door, but then he paused, pulling his head reluctantly back from her lips and Tasha whimpered slightly, straining to find them again as he looked down at her. 

                “We need wine.”  He said to her and she blinked at him, forcing herself to focus through the haze of her desire, which was more powerful than she had ever known.  She admitted that wine would be a good appetizer for what she had in mind for this man and she nodded.  She cried out in surprise as he dropped her legs, setting her upright on her feet and she swooned slightly, placing a hand to her head as the room seemed to spin around her.  She reached out and braced herself on the wall next to the door, where he had set her down.  She was aware of the hungry eyes of the men around her and did her best to ignore them.

To the maiden fair the knight did respond,

“’Twas an honor to free you of the dragons bond.”

And so for her hero the maiden did swoon,

So the knight he did claim her love as his boon.

                The song ended and the music faded, Tasha focused through her swirling thoughts and emotions, looking toward the table where Talon and Arkayne had been seated.  Her soon to be lover had a bottle of wine in hand and had paused at the table, leaning close to the mage and speaking to him.  She saw Alicia glance surreptitiously at her, a slight frown on her face but she was again looking at the mage as the two men finished their discussion and Talon started back toward her, smiling in anticipation of what was to come.

                ‘What in the nine hells is the matter with me?’ she asked herself, frowning and trying to do some serious soul searching.  ‘Talon Rethbourne is not the sort of man I generally fall for.  I’m not having particularly strong feeling toward anyone lately, though Strut and I have… well, benefits to our friendship on occasion.’

                Then Talon was there again, the hand holding the bottle of wine slid around her waist, pulled her tight against him and he kissed her.  His lips sent an electric shock through her and all doubts fled her mind again.  She melted into him, her heart thundering in her chest.  How could anything that felt so good be wrong?  Pulling away and breaking the kiss, he smiled and led her out the door.

                Alicia wasn’t getting very far with the mage, and she was starting to doubt her abilities to seduce a man.  She had done it often enough, though granted those men were usually well on toward being drunk and were far easier marks than this shrewd mage was proving to be.  Most men were all too ready to believe that a woman was attracted to them, and when they wound up in a rented room with her later, having a memorable night, well that almost made the fact that they woke up minus their coin and jewelry worth the whole thing.  Usually for Nightshade such jobs were only worth it if the take was fairly large.  She wasn’t afraid to give her body to men in the event that it allowed her to get her job done, but she didn’t usually enjoy it.  If she made out well in the stealing, she could usually convince herself that it had been worthwhile.  But this mage, Arkayne, was proving to be a tough nut to crack.

                “Was that a friend of yours?” she asked, watching as Talon crossed the room to where Tasha waited by the door, looking flustered and confused.  She was worried about the elf, the look on her face was not the look of a woman who was in control of her faculties.  But after a brief and passionate kiss the dark haired soldier had led her outside and the elf was no longer any concern of Alicia’s.  She was going to have to fend for herself, they both had jobs to do. She just hoped Tasha didn’t get so caught up in her own pleasure that she forgot to question the guardsman.

                “Actually,” said Arkayne indifferently, “he’s more like my jailer.”  The mage was not looking at her, hadn’t really been looking at her since she invited herself to sit with him.  He hadn’t offered her a drink and was in fact seeming entirely disinterested in the thief.  This was a matter of some concern for Alicia… the rogue knew what she looked like and knew that almost every man she had ever met was attracted to her to some degree.

                “Looks as though he’s in for a pleasant evening.”  She said off handedly and at that Arkayne did react, glancing toward the door through which the two had just vanished.

                “Yes, it does doesn’t it?”  he said and his long, narrow face split into a slight smirk.  That smirk bothered Alicia, she had seen looks like that on the faces of a lot of men over the years.  It was the look of a man who knew more than he was telling and it led her to think that he had had something to do with what was happening between Talon Rethbourne and Tasha.  Alicia nearly abandoned the mission right then, in favor of going and trying to warn Tasha that she might be under some magical influence. But no, the elf could take care of herself and probably Talon as well and the rogue had a job to do.

                She leaned toward him across the table, extending an arm to place her hand over his.  His skin was dry and cool to the touch and she felt a chill of revulsion pass through her, but she did well to hide it from her face.  “I see no reason why should be the only one getting lucky tonight, do you?”

                Arkayne did turn to her then, his penetrating dark eyes meeting hers and Alicia felt another, similar chill pass through her.  It was like he was looking into her very soul, and maybe he was, she wasn’t very familiar with the ways of magic.  That was one of the things that had made her nervous about this mission.  His gaze started down then and Alicia started to finally see some of that familiar desire that so often lit up mens eyes when they looked at her.  It seemed this mage was a slow burner, perhaps that was due to his age.  She put him somewhere in his fifties, though he didn’t seem to be going gray yet, not that she could see his hair, he never seemed to take that hood down.  The thin mustache and goatee, however, were still very black.  His gaze lingered then on the low slung bodice of her dress, taking in the firm swell of her breasts and she saw his lids narrow ever so slightly, though she couldn’t tell from what.

                “Are you a whore?” he asked her softly, his voice a dull rasp.  “I’m not in the habit of paying for my pleasure.”

                She felt insulted by the question on principle, but she had been called much worse and again nothing of her feelings showed on her face.  “I’m not prostitute, I’m just a girl looking for a good time tonight.”

                He lifted his eyes to meet hers again and his smile was somewhat mocking.  “With me?  Whatever for? There are far younger men here, and more attractive.”

                She snorted derisively and thought it sounded believable.  “Also far drunker.  These men are clumsy oafs who wouldn’t know how to please a woman when they were sober.  I like my men with more experience… and more mystery.  You fit that bill better than any of them.”

                His expression grew thoughtful at that and she thought perhaps she was finally getting somewhere.  He seemed to be genuinely considering her words and he reached toward her, the woman still leaning toward him across the table and one long, bony finger started to trace along the low cut neckline of her dress.  Again she had to suppress a shudder of revulsion at his touch, especially when the contact was so intimate.  She felt his fingertip hook the golden chain of her medallion which was tucked down inside the dresses bodice.  She had arranged it so that the two sides of the chain descended down the center of her breasts upper slopes.  But as he hooked it the medallion started to rise up from the bodice of the gown.  Alicia, thinking this an accident, said nothing, merely smiling coyly at him as he continued to trace her cleavage with that finger.  When the medallion was pulled fully from her dress and dangled in the air before her, his eyes fastened upon it, though only for a moment, the golden crescent moon sparkling in the light from the lantern that glowed dimly at the center of the table between them.

                “My…” he nodded toward the front door, “…jailer has instructed me not to return to the room we share tonight.  I can understand why he wouldn’t wish to be disturbed, but that means I have nowhere to take you.”

                “I do have my own place, you know.”  She told him with a smile, feeling as though she had gotten him into position, now she had only to spring the trap.  Here amid this crowd was not the place to seduce answers from the man, but in the privacy of her own apartment… that was an ideal setting.

                Arkayne shook his head though.  “If I leave the building and he comes looking, he’ll think I’ve tried to flee.  Don’t they have rooms upstairs?”

                Alicia would have preferred to finish this in more familiar territory, but she didn’t want to push too hard for her own apartment and put him back on his guard.  She smiled and nodded, “I believe they do.  Why don’t we go see?”

                “Yes, let’s.”  Arkayne responded and Alicia rose from the table and took his hand, pulling him after her.

                Talon wasted no time once he had closed the door to his room behind them, pulling Tasha into a stifling embrace and bruising her lips with his own, pinning her back against the door with his own body.  The feel of her pressed against him was intoxicating, the touch of her set his flesh ablaze and his heart to pounding.  Their tongues were dancing back and forth, first in her mouth then in his, their hands exploring each other eagerly while at the same time nimble fingers were undoing fastenings, at least hers were for the dress she wore had no fastenings to undo. When his shirt had been opened she pushed it off his sloping shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then raked her nails gently down his solidly muscled chest.  He moaned, then returned the favor by filling his hands with her breasts and squeezing them experimentally, causing her to moan in turn.  Tasha’s fingers found his belt buckle and undid it, yanking it from around his waist and tossing it away, then Talon, spurred by his mounting passion, started to kiss his way down her neck, the elf tilting her head back against the door with a sigh to allow him easier access.  At the base of her neck he pause, licking and biting lightly and she gasped, her hands on his shoulders as he continued down, licking and kissing his way down her abundant cleavage and chewing playfully at one of her nipples, now firm and large and easily found through the thin material of the dress.  She shivered and sighed in pleasure, one hand running from his shoulder up the side of his face to his hair where she entangled her fingers.  Again he started down till he was on his knees before her and Tasha felt his hands suddenly on her calves, barely touching her sensitive skin as they started slowly to rise up her legs, disappearing beneath her skirt.  She shivered again, her eyes closing as she sucked her lower lip into her mouth and chewed it passionately, feeling the gentle touch of his palms as they made their way up her thighs to her hips.  His fingers hooked into the waistline of her underpants and slowly started to pull them down the length of her legs.  Tasha was starting to perspire lightly as her temperature rose in response to his skilled touch, and when her panties reached her ankles she kicked them impatiently away, desperate now to continue what they had started.

                Talon began to rise again, kissing his way back up her statuesque form, pausing once more to chew on the nipple opposite to the one he had paused over on his way down, then worked his way back up her chest and neck to her mouth.  The kiss was passionate and lingering, their lips fused hungrily, their tongues exploring.  Then he took her hands in his and started to back away, leading the elf across the room toward, not the bed as she had expected, but the table and two chairs in the corner.  As they reached it he kicked one of the chairs away from the table and put its backrest to the wall, then he sat, pulling her toward him.  Tasha smiled, lifting one long leg and sliding it between the seat of the chair and the armrest, then doing the same with the other, settling herself into his lap facing him.  They kissed again and she felt his hands slide down her face to her shoulders and he was pushing the straps of the dress off them and down her arms.  She raised her arms, slipping the straps off them completely and Talon started to tug down the bodice of her dress, baring the magnificent globes concealed within.  Tasha leaned back as the soldier once again started to kiss his way downward, displaying remarkable nimbleness as she arched her spine, thrusting her boobs at him and he growled, animal like as he took one of her large nipples into his mouth and started to suck at it noisily.  She placed one hand on the back of his head, pressing his face more firmly against her, while her other hand slid between them, finding the fasteners closing his pants.  She started to pull at them, opening his fly and sliding her long fingers into his cotton pants, gasping in surprise when she found his member and curled her fingers around it.  He was wide and very long and as she stroked him lightly she found that he was hard as a mithron sword.  He groaned as she stroked him, the light touch of her skilled fingers bringing a shudder of delight through the human.

                Planting her feet on the ground to either side of the chair Tasha raised herself up slightly and Talon leaned back, reluctantly releasing his mouths hold on her breast to look up into her face as she pulled him from the constricting confines of his pants.  Their eyes met as she maneuvered him, placing the thick head of his shaft against her nether lips and she gasped, then sighed, once again sucking her lower lip into her mouth as she lowered herself, his shaft parting her lips as she dropped.  Talon leaned his head back against the wall and let out a heartfelt moan of delight, for she was hot, moist and oh so tight!  His hands found her thighs beneath her skirt and slid up to her ass, cupping it and squeezing as she settled back into his lap, her eyes closed as she savored the feel of his shaft entering her to the hilt.

                “Gods!” he gasped, realizing suddenly that he was panting, his eyes playing over her face, shining now with a thin sheen of perspiration.  “That’s…. you’re… that feels….”  He couldn’t finish the thoughts, he didn’t have the words to describe the feeling of being buried inside this woman he had lusted after since meeting her in Peacehope.  Tasha, it seemed, didn’t trust herself to speak, she only nodded her agreement with his words, her eyes still closed, her head tilted slightly back, her shoulders back and her spine arched somewhat. Talon feasted his gaze on her beautiful body and couldn’t resist leaning forward and sucking at one of her nipples again.  This action seemed to awaken Tasha who opened her eyes and looked down at him, smiling as she ran her fingers through his dark hair once more.  Slowly she began to move in his lap, her hips undulating slightly, grinding herself against him while at the same time she would push with her feet, rising slightly to lower herself back atop him.  Talon groaned, her movements were sensuous and well practiced, as a woman of well over a hundred years of age should be.

                The slow and sensual movements of the elf ignited his passions still further and Talon growled, surprising her as he suddenly stood up, a startled squeal coming from the elf as she was lifted easily in the air, her legs reflexively locking about her lovers hips as he moved forward, a fierce expression in his face that sent a thrill of trepidation through Tasha.  She gasped and winced as he slammed her roughly against the wall, pinning her there and then he was moving against her, his hips lunging back and forth, driving deeply into her lissome body, his every forward lunge slamming her against the wall, rattling the candle holders and pictures that were mounted upon them.  She was taken aback by the suddenness of his change in attitude, but not scared, to the contrary his sudden fierceness excited her and she gasped out “Yes!  Harder!”  Urging him on which made him lung all the deeper and Tasha’s voice raised in ecstasy as she cried out, nearly screaming her pleasure.  Talon had his face buried in the side of her neck as he took her, driving his manhood with furious, powerful lunges.  Their bodies soaked with sweat, which mingled between them, human and elf coming ever closer to a mutual, thunderous climax….

                Alicia carried the key to the room they had rented in her right hand and held Arkayne’s hand with her left as she led the way down the hall, casting the occasional glance over her shoulder at him.  Whenever she would look at him he would smile ever so slightly, but she didn’t see a burning desire in his eyes like she would with most men at this stage.  She had the sense that something was wrong, but she couldn’t really place what that something might be. Arkayne was going through the motions and maybe he just wasn’t a man that wore his emotions on his sleeve. 

                She found the proper door and inserted the key into the lock, it clicked almost soundlessly when she turned it, then she pushed it open and led him through.  Turning, she released his hand as he followed her into the room and she turned her back on him as she made to close the door and lock it back up.  While she had her back to him Arkayne mumbled something under his breath and just as the doors lock clicked into place Alicia gasped and stiffened, every muscle in her body seizing up so that the young rogue was paralyzed.

                “What… what are you doing?” she gasped.

                “Who are you?” he asked her softly, staying just out of arms reach of her for the moment.

                “My name… is Alice, I told you that downstairs!” she said, the spell making it difficult to move her mouth for speech.  She found that if she really tried she could in fact move, but it took such a huge effort that even the smallest of movements left her exhausted.

                “You’re lying.” He said, and this time there was some acid in his tone.  “That medallion you wear, I’ve seen its like before.  It’s the mark of a very specific family, one that I have good reason to dislike very strongly.  So I ask again… who are you?”

                She swallowed, wondering what he meant about her medallion.  She had had it for as long as she could remember and actually knew very little about its origins.  “My… name… is… Alice!” she growled, almost spitting out the words.

                Arkayne sighed, shaking his head slightly and said, his voice still pitched low but still having that undertone of acid to it.  “Very well then… the hard way.”  Before she had a chance to wonder what he meant by that, he had uttered another spell and the paralysis had been released, but again before she could react she felt herself seized by some invisible force and spun around to face him.  He was standing perfectly still, staring at her with an expression that was almost piteous, one hand extended toward her, the fingers splayed.  When he did move, shifting his arm to the side Alicia felt herself move with it, propelled through the air by that same unseen force.  She understood then what was happening, for obviously one of the schools of magic this man had studied was the psychic school and he was using telekinesis on her, but what she didn’t know was why. 

                When he had used the power of his mind to propel her through the air till her back was to a wall to the left of the door he tilted his hand back so that the palm was facing her, then thrust it forward as though pushing something away. Alicia was slammed back against the wall hard enough to knock plaster loose from the ceiling and it rained down on her, the blow strong enough to leave her gasping for air.  While she was trying to recover from this his magic worked on her still more, forcing her arms upward till her wrists were level with the lower portion of a cast iron candelabra.  Arkayne’s eyes narrowed slightly and she heard the sound of metal bending and twisting over her head, but she couldn’t look up to see what was happening, his telekinetic control was keeping her too still.  She felt cold dark iron encircle her wrists however and quickly discerned that he was basically cuffing her to the wall.  The cast iron bonds wrapped all the way up her forearms, nearly to her elbows and when they had finished, he released his mental hold on her and she felt her body relax, though now the strain on her shoulders was immediate and painful, making her gasp.  She was hanging so far up the wall that her feet couldn’t touch the ground, which meant all her weight was now supported by her shoulders and arms.

                “Why did you approach me in the tavern?” he demanded, now stepping up to her, his expression darkening menacingly.

                “I… was just looking for a good time.”  She said, trying to stick to her original story.

                He smiled ever so slightly, shaking his head.  “Much as I would like to believe that a young, beautiful maiden such as yourself might find me appealing enough to approach for a one night stand, I know better.”  He suddenly reached out, his slender, bony hands slipping into the bodice of her dress and pushing it down, then his bony fingers were massaging her firm globes. 

                Alicia scowled at him, wondering what in the hell was going on.  “Look, if this is your idea of a good time, it’s a little kinky for my taste!”  Then she screamed, her back arching away from the wall, her eyes widening in pain and horror as electricity suddenly crackled from his hands, into her breasts and then through the rest of her body.  Arkayne grinned savagely and actually did start to feel a stirring in his loins at this.  He kept up the flow of electricity for several long seconds, then he stepped back and raised his hands, which still crackled menacingly.  She slumped against the wall, her head sagging toward her chest, her hair having somewhat fallen from her ponytail in her thrashing so that it now covered part of her face. 

                “I’ll ask you again, what was your intent in approaching me in the tavern downstairs?”  He wasn’t worried about anyone hearing her scream, the sounds from the tavern were sufficient to cover the noise and those from the nearby rooms had assured him that their occupants were far too distracted to care if there was rough sex happening in here.

                “All right!” she gasped, raising her head to glare at him defiantly.  “I… I meant to rob you, all right?”

                He cocked an eyebrow at her questioningly.  “You’re a thief?”

                She nodded, “Yes.  Everyone knows that mages carry lots of coin and other items that can be sold for lots of coin.  You were the most obvious mark in that room, so I chose you.  Obviously I chose wrong.”

                This actually rang of the truth to Arkayne, though he wasn’t yet ready to believe her.  “And what of that medallion?  Are you a Moonstone?”

                It was her turn to frown now.  “Am I a what?  Isn’t that some kind of rock?”

                Arkayne scowled at her, not liking that she was still willing to give him attitude.  He thought perhaps she needed another punishment, but since the last one hadn’t had much effect on her, he decided a different location was in order.  He stepped up to her, saying nothing, his eyes roving over her slender, firm young body.  He extended one of his hands, still crackling with electricity and she turned her head, following its path as he moved it toward her left arm.  He held it near her arm, an inch away so that the electricity crackled from his hand to the surface of her skin.  She felt the tingle and could see the fine hairs on her arm standing up.  She whimpered, unable to look away as he slowly moved his hand along her arm toward her shoulder.  While he was keeping her thus distracted his other hand moved forward and down, toward her lower extremities.  Suddenly that hand flashed forward and clamped onto her groin, the thief’s eyes widening in sudden fright just before he released another torrent of electricity into her.  She writhed and screamed, her long hair bursting from the ponytail and standing straight up and out to either side of her head, her face tilted back so that she was screaming at the ceiling.  The electricity coursed through her, burning her at the point of contact and making her blood boil in her veins.  She writhed and thrashed that way for nearly a minute as the mage grinned devilishly, growing harder by the second so that when he released her, his hands still crackling brightly with electricity there was a definite bulge at the waist line of his robes.

                “That medallion you wear, “ he said softly, pointing at the crescent moon where it hung freely between her bared breasts, “is the symbol of a noble family in the City State of Peacehope in Algeron.  As I’ve stated, I have just cause to hate them, so if you are a member of that family, it would behoove you to tell me.  If you are, then you have value to me alive… if you are not, well….” He trailed off menacingly.

                Alicia was breathing raggedly, her whole body aching with the pain of the electrical burns between her legs and the heat of the electricity in her body.  Her hair had fallen limp when he had stepped back and now it completely covered her face as her head was slumped weakly.  With an effort, she raised her head and glared at him.  “I don’t know any Moonstone family.”  She snarled at him.  “My sister and I have had these medallions for as long as I can remember.  Our mother gave them to us when she left us at the doorstep of the orphanage here in Milligant, or so we were told.”

                “Sister?” he asked, his interest piqued now.

                She nodded, and though it was obvious she didn’t want to tell him about her sister, she also didn’t want another dose of lightning.  “I have a twin sister.  She lives here in the city too, though I don’t see her much.  Our lives have taken very different paths.”  She could see he was going to ask, so she volunteered it before he could.  “She’s a priestess… part of the Church of Emotion.”

                Arkayne new of this church, it was said to be something of a New Age fad popular with the young folk of the world.  Supposedly the gods and goddesses of this church were all about worshipping the mortal emotions.  They had gods to joy, fear, lust… just about every emotion that could be thought of, they had developed a deity to worship in its honor.  He wondered idly which of these deities her sister followed.  He also wondered whether this young thief and her twin were related to the Moonstones of Peacehope.  He believed her story about being left at an orphanage, but he wondered about their origins… who were their true parents?  Still, none of this helped him to figure out the current situation. 

                “I think I believe everything you have told me, except that I’m not sure you’ve been completely truthful regarding your intentions here this evening.  Conning me into joining you for a night of passion so you could rob me would be a clever thing for an enterprising young thief to do, but the fact is I think that your arrival, combined with that of a certain elven archer are a little too much to be coincidence.”  He was watching her face for reaction and thought he saw a flicker of fear in her eyes when he mentioned the elf.  He smiled, “While torturing you is indeed fun, there is a far more effective way of extracting information from one such as yourself.”

                Alicia watched him fearfully, scared now of what she might tell him in regards to the plan she and Tasha had developed.  The mage started to mumble another spell, his narrow face leering at her as she shivered with fright….

                They were both naked now and completely lost in the pleasures of each others bodies.  Tasha was sprawled across the tabletop, her legs raised at a ninety degree angle along his muscular torso, her heels resting on his shoulders.  Talon stood by the table, gripping her forearms at her sides for support and leverage as he drove into her repeatedly.  Tasha was gasping and moaning, her head tossing from side to side in ecstasy as he took her over the edge for the third time in two hours.  Her orgasm hit her just as intensely as the first two had and she arched her back, digging her heels into his shoulders as she did so and growled in pleasure.  It took him a further three deep thrusts before Talon stiffened, grunting and groaning as his own orgasm took him, and though he had nothing left to ejaculate into her, that didn’t stop the feelings from nearly overwhelming him.  His knees almost buckled and he had to catch himself on the side of the table before he collapsed.  Shifting to the side, he lowered himself carefully into the same chair they had started in and the elf slowly lowered her legs, pushing herself into a sitting position, her calves now dangling off the edge of the tabletop.

                This was the first time they had been apart since coming into the room two hours before, their passion had burned so hotly that they hadn’t taken a break until now.  Her hair was disheveled and clinging to her forehead in places, her body still gleaming from their mingled sweat.  Her eyes played over Talon, who was sprawled in the chair, arms resting at his sides, head back against the wall and his eyes closed.  He wasn’t the most impressive specimen of manhood she had ever seen, though for his size he was probably the most well endowed.  But he certainly wasn’t ugly… it was his attitude that needed improving.  His attitude that had turned her off from the moment they had met, and yet she had just spent the last two hours in his room having some of the most energetic and passionate sex she could ever remember.  However, now that some of that initial ardor had melted away, she was again able to question why she was having these strange feelings toward the man.  Something was nagging at the back of her mind, something she had heard sometime ago but could for some reason not recall now.

                Feeling her eyes on him, he opened his and met her gaze, smiling a little uncertainly at the look on her face.  Not angry… she seemed confused about something.  “What is it?” he asked her.

                She debated the merits of telling him her thoughts, then decided it might be prudent to see what he said.  “When we first met back in Peacehope, did you think it was at all likely that you and I would be having sex after knowing each other… what… a week?”

                Talon knew she was questioning her actions of the last couple of hours, and possibly her feelings of the last couple of days.  He understood that he needed to be careful here, not put her on her guard.  He smiled, “Absolutely.”

                Her brow shot up skeptically.  “Oh?”

                “I wanted you from the moment I saw you, surely you picked up on that.”  She nodded, the look in his eyes when he had looked at her had been pretty obvious, but it had also been part of what she didn’t like about him!  “I knew if I was patient and just kept at you, your defenses would drop and you’d see that you wanted me as badly as I wanted you.”

                She shook her head.  “No, there was something else going on here.  I know it.”

                Now his eyebrows shot up, his face adopting a hurt look.  “Are you saying you didn’t want me?  Then what was all this?”  He motioned around them, indicating the room they had spent the last two hours enjoying each others bodies in.

                She sighed, “Well, obviously I must have wanted you… I just can’t understand how it came about so quickly.”

                This was a dangerous path for her thoughts to be traveling down, and Talon decided it was time to distract her.  Besides, he had had plenty of time to rest, so he sat forward and grinned at her, reaching out and curling his fingers around one of her ankles, pulling her shapely leg toward him.  She smiled at him slightly, still uncertain, but just that one small touch had started her heart to racing again and as he lightly caressed her calf she had trouble maintaining her suspicious attitude.  He trailed his fingers lightly up and down her lower leg, just the tips of them tracing her remarkably firm calf muscles.  Tasha lowered her head and closed her eyes, slight moan escaping her closed lips.  He couldn’t see her face through the curtain of her hair, but he could tell that he was having the desired effect upon her by her body language.           

                He spent a few pleasant moments caressing her leg, enjoying the satiny feel of her flesh under his fingertips, then he stood and scooped her off the table into his arms.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his face, he could see that there were still some confusing feelings behind her seafoam green eyes and he became determined to ensure that she didn’t dwell on them any longer.  Now that he had her, he didn’t want to give her up, he had never had a more talented lover in his life!  He crossed the room easily, carrying her in his arms and bent, lowering her onto the bed.  She laid back, her hair splayed across the pillow, looking up into his face and he felt a strong urge to kiss her, so he did and he raised her lips to meet his, parting them to accept his question tongue.  Talon lowered himself atop the elf, thrilling once more at the feel of her luscious body pressed against his.  She was the most exquisite woman he had ever seen, with the possible exception of Ariana Moonstone, but he wouldn’t have bet on either of them to be voted prettier or more desirable than the other.

                She sighed contentedly as he broke the kiss, rocking her head back on the pillow and closing her eyes as he started to kiss his way down her shapely form, pausing as he did to suck at her breasts for several long minutes.  She ran her fingers through his hair, her breathing coming in stunted little gasps as her body started to work her back up into a fervor of passion.  Already her suspicions were lost in the whorl of passion, and she thrilled at the brush of his lips across her flat stomach, gave a start when the tip of his tongue slid into her naval and when his mouth trailed lower still she groaned, parting her thighs wide as his face nestled between them, his mouth coming to rest in the soft thatch of hair found there.  “Goddess,” she moaned as his tongue parted her, delving deeply and she arched her back, grinding against him, “give me strength!”

                His arms circled her legs, pushing her lower thighs onto his shoulders as he pressed his face more firmly to her soft mound.  His hands made their way up her sides, tickling her, sending delighted shivers coursing through her, then they found her breasts and began to knead the firm, fleshy globes, rolling his thumbs over her nipples before tweaking them between thumb and forefinger.  She gasped at that, then sighed as his mouth sent contrasting waves of pleasure against the pain his fingers had caused.  She clawed at the thin bedding with her hands, mewling like a cat as she squirmed and panted from what his talented tongue was doing to her.  She started to perspire again and suddenly felt a spike of intense pleasure that made her cry out as he found her clit and sucked on it lightly.  The elf reached up instinctively and grasped the headboard above her, squirming with delight.

                There was a knock at the door.  Tasha groaned and shook her head, willing whoever it was to go away and Talon actually growled, lifting his head just far enough to shout, “Go away!”

                Another knock sounded, more insistent then the first and Talon groaned as he picked his head up, glaring up the length of the elfs Junoesque form.  When the third knock rattled the door in its frame he cursed and started to push himself upright.  Tasha whimpered and reached for him, but he disentangled himself from her long legs and stalked across the room toward the door, mumbling to himself.  “Whoever that is had better pray to whatever deity they worship that they live through the next thirty seconds!”  He stopped at the door and barked, “Who is it?”

                “We need to talk.”  Came Arkayne’s calm, low voice. 

                Talon scowled, glancing over his shoulder at where Tasha was watching him, already her passion was cooling.  “Can’t it wait mage?  I’m a little… occupied at the moment!”

                “I’m well aware of what you’re doing milord, so you can be sure I wouldn’t disturb you if it weren’t absolutely necessary!”  Talon scowled more deeply at that, but understood the truth of the words.  Arkayne knew how badly Talon had wanted the elf, having been the one to make it happen, so there was no way he would interrupt this unless he felt it imperative.

                “Dammit!” he growled softly, then called through the door, “Give me a moment!”  He turned to scan the floor of the room for his clothes, found his pants and pulled them on.  As he did so, he looked over at the sexy elf, lying naked on his bed and said in a tone that hinted he couldn’t believe he was saying it, “I had better see what he wants, it sounds important.”

                Tasha, who by this time had mostly come back to her senses, nodded, her eyes displaying her concern that something may have gone wrong.  “Of course.”

                Talon finished fastening his pants, then straightened and grinned at her.  “Don’t go anywhere!”  She shook her head before he turned and padded barefoot to the door.  When he had opened it and disappeared on the other side, she rolled quickly from the bed and scampered across the room to crouch at the door, listening.  “What the hell is so important that you would interrupt me now?”

                Arkayne’s voice came back, low and even, “Did you notice the young lady that had joined me at our table while you were dancing with the archer?”  Tasha’s heart skipped a beat, he was talking about Nightshade.

                “Yes, of course.  She was a pretty thing, I hoped you enjoyed her.”  Talon said sarcastically, obviously hinting at the fact that his own enjoyment was being interrupted, so far as he could tell so far, unnecessarily.  “What about her?”

                “I was not so taken in by her seductions as she had hoped for me to be.  When I got her alone in a room upstairs from the inn I cast a spell upon her… well, several spells to the truth.  Suffice to say I learned a few things.”  There was a pause and Tasha could well imagine the look on Talons face, no doubt the man was trying to get the mage to elaborate quickly.  “The young woman is a thief who stepped in to help young Shadow Walker when he had been captured by the rogues guild here in town.  She helped him to escape, then did a similar favor for Natashiana when she was set on by assassins after being mysteriously released from jail.”  Tasha wished she could see Talon’s face now, but she couldn’t.  Arkayne continued, “Apparently the young lady knows of a contract that has been placed upon the heads of the elf and the rest of the party, not including you and I.  Our lady friends this evening are only here to find out what you or I know about this contract.  Now, I know nothing about this, but that is not surprising since I am basically a prisoner here.  I am guessing, however, that you knew about the contract?”

                Tasha’s heart was racing as she strained to listen, not for the first time she was thankful that elves had such keen hearing.  “I can’t believe she is only here to question me… you haven’t seen her tonight!  She’s been… well, inspiring is the best word for it I think.”

                Arkayne had a ready explanation for this.  “No doubt she was distracted, all be it temporarily, from her mission by the spell I cast, bonding the two of you together.”

                Tasha’s eyes narrowed and suddenly she remembered the warning that Ariana had given when she first learned of the plant o include Arkayne in this mission.  How could she have forgotten that the mage was known for things like that?  Perhaps that had been part of the spell, help her to forget that he had a history of manipulating women in that way.  She felt anger and bile rise within her, but at the same time a deep sense of sadness at learning of Talon’s betrayal.  She understood now, however, that this feeling was nothing but the effect of the spell that Arkayne had cast and she was able to push it aside, at least somewhat.  Talon continued to speak outside, “But in answer to your question, yes. I received a letter via magic pigeon a day or so ago from Huntyr Shroude back in Peacehope.  He explained a few things and told me why they had to die.  I confess I am sad that Tasha has to be one of them, but I’m glad I the spell got to run its course before she’s killed.”

                She had heard enough, and knew that she had to get out of the room now before Talon came back.  She had a feeling that the effects of Arkayne’s spell were strong enough that if the young warrior came back into the room she would find that she no longer wanted to leave, and she couldn’t afford that.  It sounded as though Alicia was in trouble and the elf owed her for stepping in with the assassins.  Then she would have to see to getting Strut out of jail, it was time for them to make Milligant and Errgaunt a memory.  She spun away from the door and raced around the room, retrieving her dress, underwear and sandals and pulling them all on.  She could hear the men still talking in low tones outside, but knew she had only moments.  Talon wouldn’t want to wait long to get back to her.  Fully dressed in moments, though looking as though she had been doing exactly what she had been doing, Tasha glanced about for the quickest means of egress from the room.  Her gaze fell on the window and she raced to it, looking out to see that the room was on the second floor. She raised it slowly, thankful that it didn’t squeak or make too much noise.  Slipping out the window, she dropped quickly to the ground below, dropping and rolling to lessen he impact.  Glancing up at the window into Talon’s room, she shook her head and made a silent vow to deal with him personally for what he had done to her, then she raced off down the alley behind the inn, heading toward the tavern where she had left Alicia with Arkayne.

                Upstairs Talon finished speaking to the mage and went back into the room, smiling, anticipating finishing with the elf where he had left off.  When he didn’t see her waiting for him on the bed he glanced around quickly and saw that her clothes were gone too.  When he noticed the open window he raced to it and leaned out, looking both ways but there was no sign of her in the dark alley.  “Damn!”

                Tasha understood that if she was going to be any help to Alicia, she was going to have to get her leathers and bow back.  She would like to have her sword as well, but didn’t think that risking that just now as a good idea.  Her room was in the same Inn she had just come from and since Talon was no doubt looking for her, going back there wasn’t the wisest option.  However, she remembered perfectly well where the room she and Alicia had changed into their dresses was, and if she went back there to get her armor and bow she could also check on Bryant.  Her mind made up, the elf started toward the small apartment that she still wasn’t certain whether Alicia rented, owned or was just squatting in.  It was only a couple of blocks away and she reached it within twenty minutes, staying to alleys and back streets in case Talon was actively searching for her.  Did he have the contacts to recruit the local guards?  His family had money, and he worked for Major Falcone, who had been an elite soldier in Errgaunt, so it was possible Talon could have the city watch on her tail, though it hadn’t really been long enough for that yet.

                She arrived at the apartment, which was accessed through a door in a narrow back alley and she removed the key from where Alicia had shown her it would be hidden, behind a loose brick in the wall near the top of the door.  She let herself in and as she closed the door behind her she glanced about the room, her natural low light vision compensating quickly for the dimness.  Shadow Walker was still there, resting fitfully on the long sofa against the wall.  He seemed to be asleep, but she could see his chest moving freely so she didn’t disturb him.  Instead she crossed the room and moved into the small bedchamber, where hers and Nightshade’s armor were laid out on the bed.  As she crossed the room toward the bed she stripped out of the dress and thought longingly of a bath, wanting desperately to wash Talon Rethbourne off of her body.  She felt betrayed and angry, though now she understood where those feelings came from and that just made her all the angrier.  Tossing the dress aside she started to pull on her leathers, lacing and buckling where necessary.  She was cinching up the laces that lined the front of the chest piece when she heard him clear his throat behind her.

                She glanced over her shoulder, surprised to find Shadow Stalker standing in the doorway.  He was still battered and bruised and looked completely horrible, but his eyes were alight with mischief that told her he was going to be just find and made her wonder how long he had been standing there before he made his presence known.  She was tying her corset as she turned toward him her green eyes sparkling.  “Feeling better then?”

                He nodded, then stepped into the room and she saw him wince, noticed him limping.  He was definitely going to require some time to heal.  “Some, yeah.”  He glanced around the room, noticed the black and gray armor still strewn across the bed and the weapons that were lying with them and raised his eyebrows.  Even that motion seemed to cause him pain.  “Where’s Nightshade?”

                “In trouble, I think.”  Tasha informed him as she started to strap on the belt that held her quiver, and should have held her sword too.  “I’m on my way to find her now.”

                He had straightened noticeably when he heard the sexy thief who had saved his life might be in danger.  “I’ll come with you.”

                Tasha smiled gently, fully understanding how the young man might have feelings for the young white haired woman.  “You’re in no condition to fight Bryant, and it may come to that.”  She turned to grab her bow from where it leaned against the wall and as she turned back to face him she had another thought.  “There is something you might be able to do though, if you’re feeling up to it.”

                “If I sit around this apartment much longer I’ll go nuts, what do you need?” he asked her.

                She shrugged as though it should be obvious.  “Strut.”  Bryant nodded, as though only just realizing that the warrior wasn’t with them at the moment.  “Last I knew he was still cooling his heels in jail, but I’m afraid that assassin who had hold of you might try for him if he knows that we’re on to him.  See if you can do anything to help him out?”

                He frowned thoughtfully, nodding his head.  “Jailbreak?”  Then a smile spread slowly across his battered face but she could easily see the youthful, handsome young rogue beneath it now.  “Nice!”

                “Once you have hold of him, meet me back here.  Hopefully I’ll have Alicia as well.”  Tasha said, already heading out of the bedroom.

                Shadow Walker followed her into the sitting room and asked, “Then what?”

                She paused at the front door and glanced back over her shoulder at him.  “Then we get the Hell out of this city.  I’ve never liked it here!”

                “And go where?”  he called after her, but the door was already closing behind the elf.  “We’re likely not the only ones being targeted.”  This last he said under his breath, but knew that Tasha had likely already come to the same conclusion.

                Tasha made her way back to the tavern where she and Alicia had found Talon and Arkayne.  It was much later now and the place seemed to have closed, though probably only recently.  She could see movement through the windows and flickering light.  Probably the staff were cleaning up after business had ended for the night.  She stood in the shadows of a recessed doorway across from the tavern, watching for any sign of Arkayne.  She was fairly confident the evil mage would have come back here, if indeed this was where he was keeping Alicia.  She wished now that she had followed him, then gone after her gear, but there was no going back.  The purpose of watching this place now was that she hoped to see some sign that the mage was inside… or that he wasn’t but Nightshade was.  After twenty minutes, when there hadn’t been any sign, she sighed and decided she couldn’t afford to wait any longer, the girl could be in serious trouble.

                As she started across the street toward the tavern, which she only just now noticed had a faded sign over it that read the Wet Whistle, the doors pushed open and a man came out onto the walkway.  He was tall and slender with a long, narrow face and watery brown eyes.  His hair was black and thinning on top and he wore clothes that were worn and faded, patched in a few places.  She vaguely remembered seeing him inside earlier, busing tables and sweeping.  He looked like a transient, and she knew that many of the destitute of the larger cities would work for tavern keepers in the hopes of making a few coins, or getting paid with a bottle.  This man clutched a light green bottle by the neck and seemed eager to go and partake of it.  But when he saw the archer moving toward him across the street his eyes widened and slid over her slowly from head toe, lingering hungrily on her low cut neckline.  Tasha gave him her best smile and said, “Hello.”

                He had to swallow before he replied and she had the impression that his throat had gone suddenly dry.  “H-hello y-you-yourself.”  He stammered and he was slurring his words slightly, making her think he had already been partaking before he ever received his days pay.

                “Do you remember seeing me in here earlier tonight?” she asked him and saw his brow furrow thoughtfully as he tried to remember.  She allowed her smile to widen slightly, “I was dressed differently then, in a dress that came down to here,” she held her hand a couple of inches below her armors already low neckline, drawing his gaze that way, “and was slip up to here.”  She ran her index finger slowly up her thigh to her hip and saw him break out in a sweat as his eyes followed the progress of that finger. 

                He suddenly nodded enthusiastically.  “I remember you now!  Whole place noticed you, din’t they?”  he said eagerly, his eyes dancing as he remembered her in that dress.  “You left here with that pretty boy with the dark hair.  Lot’s of grumbling about how lucky he was after he carried you out of the place!”

                Tasha laughed lightly, the sound like the tingling of a bell in his ears.  “You’re sweet, uh…?” she trailed off expectantly.

                He swallowed again, but this time had to work up some saliva first as his mouth had gone dry as well.  “Mort,” he said, then corrected himself, “Mortimer, actually.”

                “Well, Mort,” she stepped up a little closer to him, fighting the urge to wrinkle her nose at the smell coming off the man, “I had a friend in there with me who probably stood out to the men in the room as much as I did.  She was shorter than me with long white hair and blue eyes?  Her dress was a little more… daring as well.”

                Mort nodded.  “I remember her too!  Course, wasn’t too many people focusing on her while you were dancing with your man!” 

                Tasha winced inwardly at the memory of that dance, though somewhere deep down inside she still enjoyed the memory of how it had felt in Talon’s arms.  ‘Damn wizards and there spells!’ she thought irritably.  Aloud she said, “I’m actually hoping you might be able to tell me what happened to her?  Where did she go?”

                “Go?” he blinked at her in confusion, then said, “Well, so far as I know she didn’t go nowhere!  Leastways I ain’t seen her leave.  She should still be upstairs with that old fella.”

                “Old fella?” she asked, her tone requesting clarification.

                “Same one what was sitting at the table with your guy.  Old fella, tall and skinny, little mustache and wearing robes that was gray… least I think they was gray.”  He said, frowning as he tried to remember.

                Tasha nodded.  “I remember him now, and yes they were gray.”  She glanced over his shoulder at the tavern where lights were starting to go out.  “Don’t suppose you might know which room they took?”  He scowled at her, suddenly suspicious.  Tasha had an excuse for her curiosity ready, “We went in there together, see, and I don’t fancy leaving town till I know she’s safe.  She’s my friend and I want to make sure she isn’t in trouble.  She hasn’t come back to our room yet.”  She smiled and the mans alcohol fogged mind seemed able to accept this.

                “Sorry miss,” he said, and his expression showed he meant it, “but I just plain don’t know.”  A man was coming out of the tavern now and she remembered him from behind the bar earlier.  Mort turned and saw him.  “Cletus there might know, was him that rented them the space I think!”

                The bartender, who she assumed must be Cletus, scowled over at them.  “What the hell are you doing still here Mort?  You should already have a decent start on that bottle by now!”

                Mort nodded toward Tasha.  “Lady here was talking to me Cletus.  Can you believe that?  Me!”  The drunk chortled a bit, then stepped to one side as Cletus joined them on the side of the street.

                “You need some help there missy?”  Cletus asked.  He was a short man, several inches shorter than Tasha with a bald pate and a thin strip of hair around the back of his head.  He was heavy set with broad, sloping shoulders, a protruding stomach and a face with heavy, puffy cheeks that made his eyes appear squinty as they played over Tasha appreciatively.  He was wearing a simple cotton tunic and pants with soft leather shoes and had his bartenders apron draped over one arm.

                She offered him the same winning smile that she had originally melted Mort with and saw that it had a similar effect on Cletus.  Sometimes, she reflected, it wasn’t such a bad thing to be considered such a beauty.  “Actually, yes.  I’m looking for my friend who came into your establishment with me earlier.  Human, young with long white hair, wearing a somewhat too daring dress?”

                Cletus nodded sagely.  “I remember the very gal you’re talkin’ about!”

                “Do you happen to remember where she went, and with who?”  Tasha knew very well who Alicia had gone with, but thought that the less these men knew about how much she knew, the better.  They could feel more helpful that way, which would make them more inclined to be helpful. 

                “Was with that mage that was sitting with your boyfriend.”  Tasha winced inwardly again, but didn’t let it show on her face.  “Not too long after you left they rented one of our rooms and went upstairs.”

                “Would you happen to remember which room?”  Tasha smiled encouragingly when she saw a suspicious expression, a bit more shrewd than the one Mort had given her earlier, cross Cletus’s face.  “I’m a little worried about here.  We were sharing a room at our inn and she didn’t come home when we said we’d meet.”

                “Sharing a room were you?”  Cletus’s expression lit up at that and she could easily imagine the thoughts racing through his head.  ‘Pervert.’  She thought, but said nothing.  “Well, yeah… I remember what room they’re in, but I’m really not supposed to give that information out.”  He was hedging, she could see he was hoping to get something out of this. 

                Her mind raced, the guards had kept her coin earlier, so she had nothing to offer him.  She stepped forward and lowered her voice conspiratorially.  “If you could help me out with this, I’d be very grateful.”

                His eyes narrowed slightly and he leaned toward her so that she got a whiff of sweat and some kind of cologne that had mostly worn off during the day.  “How grateful?”

                She reached out and trailed her fingers down his shoulder and upper arm.  “Very grateful.” She whispered, for his ears alone.

                Now it was Cletus’s turn to swallow audibly and he glanced over at Mort who was watching this exchange with wide eyes.  “Mort, you move along now and drink that up.  I’ll help the lady find her friend.”  Mort seemed disappointed to be not included in the elf’s gratitude, but he nodded and started off as Cletus said to her, “Come on in.  I suppose it wouldn’t hurt nothing if we just checked on them.”  She nodded agreeably and followed him through the swinging doors of the tavern.  “After all, she was probably enjoying herself and lost track of time.”

                Tasha highly doubted this, but said nothing to him.  Cletus led the way across the now empty tavern and to the base of the staircase that led up to the rented rooms.  He stepped to one side and motioned that she should preceded him, trying to play the gentleman.  Tasha wasn’t fooled for a moment, though she did go first up the stairs, hearing him stumping up them behind her, feeling his eyes on her ass as they climbed.  “Which one is it?” she asked as they reached the second floor and started down the hallway.

                “Third on the left.” He informed her and she paused outside it, pressing one delicately pointed ear to the door and listening. Her elven hearing was quite keen and she could hear movement from the other side.  She closed her eyes, hoping to discern what they were doing in there and as she was straining to hear she felt a large hand settle lightly on her hip.  Her eyes popped open and she pulled away from the door slightly, looking down at Cletus’s hand as hit slid around to caress her stomach, the fat bartender pressing against her from behind so that she could feel his suddenly swollen manhood wedged between them.

                “You see?” he whispered, “I told you they were fine.  Now… how grateful did you say you would be for my help exactly?”  His hand was starting to move up toward her breast and she was smiling grimly as she started to think of the least violent way to extricate herself from the lecherous human when a scream from beyond the door suddenly rent the air.  “What the…?”  Cletus gasped and lurched back, releasing the elf and looking toward the door with a shocked expression.

                Tasha was already drawing an arrow from her scabbard and stepping back to put some space between her and the door.  “Call the city watch!” she snarled at the man and then she thrust her booted foot at the door, just beneath the knob.  It sprang open, splinters flying from the frame and she dove through the door, dropping into a shoulder roll and coming up on one knee, her arrow notched to the string and drawn back as her green eyes flicked about the room.  She saw the bed, the small table and chairs, the dresser and the woman against the wall with the mage standing in front of her.  All this she saw in the blink of an eye, and she processed the fact that Alicia seemed to be naked and that Arkayne’s hands were on her breasts.  The woman was screaming and thrashing as her body was engulfed in lightning, her hair standing straight out on end, crackling all around her.  Arkayne had been so engrossed in his torture of the thief, a manic glint in his eyes and a demented smile on his face, that it took him a moment to register the elf’s sudden arrival.  It took her that same moment to process the scene in the room, but the elder mage had a slower reaction time than she did and as he was turning to face Tasha she released her bowstring with a soft thrum.

                Arkayne grunted as the arrow struck him high on the back, but Tasha’s eyes widened when she realized that it hadn’t penetrated the mans robes, merely bouncing off and clattering to the floor.  Obviously he had placed some sort of projectile protection on his robes and as he turned to face her fully, his eyes flashing dangerously she drew forth another arrow, thinking this time to aim for his ugly face.  She noticed that Alicia slumped, her head sagging and her hair falling in front of her face as the mage turned from her.  She also saw the twisted wrought iron of the candelabra that was acting as a restraint for the thief and her anger rose within her, as did her bile.  “Bitch!” the mage growled, raising a hand and pointing three fingers at her.  Tasha dropped and rolled away as a trio of brilliantly glowing energy missiles shot forth, slamming into the ground where she had been.

                Tasha barely took time to aim, knowing that to aim gave him time to think and with a mage that was the last thing you wanted to do.  She released her bowstring, sending another arrow streaking toward him and he hissed, backing away as he drew his robe up to guard his face from the missile.  Before that one had moved half way across the room she had drawn and fired another, this one aiming down so that as the high arrow rebounded once more off his robes, the low one caught him on the foot and sunk clear through, pinning it to the carpeted floor underneath.  Arkayne howled in pain, dropping to his opposite knee and reaching reflexively toward the arrow protruding from his foot.  Her third arrow was on its way, the elf having aimed for an opening in his robe and this time he screamed as the arrow sank deep into his shoulder, slipping under the fold of the robe.  He fell backward awkwardly, his leg bending at a weird angle due to his foot still pinned by the arrow.  He groaned and whimpered as he clutched at the protruding shaft and Tasha rose to her feet, keeping another arrow trained upon him as she came to stand over him.

                She glanced at the thief hanging on the wall, apparently unconscious and then back down at Arkayne.  “You sick freak!”  She was seriously tempted to release that arrow and end his existence right then.  “It wasn’t bad enough that you made me fall in love with that… that…” her mind suddenly wandered to Strut, likely sitting in a cell across town and she stole a term from his book, “…bastard!”  She nodded toward Nightshade.  “You had to stoop to torture as well?”

                “I… I had to know what she knew… why she had lured me away as she did.”  He was squirming in pain, still clutching at the arrow sticking out of his chest and alternately twisting to reach toward his tortured foot.  “I didn’t know she was with you!  I thought she was….”

                Tasha kicked him savagely in the side, “Liar!  I heard you talking to Talon earlier!  I know what you’ve done!”

                Arkayne started to shake his head as though to deny her accusation, but then his eyes suddenly flashed dangerously and Tasha felt a shift in the rooms temperature.  She tried to avoid it, tried to dive aside but he was a shade too quick for her.  His hand thrust outward and the same electricity he had been using on Alicia shot forth and engulfed her.  Natashiana screamed as she felt the small hairs on her arms and the longer ones on her head begin to stand up under the electrical onslaught and she was flung backward across the room.  She crashed into the bed and rolled off it to the other side, the force of the blast sufficient to fling her into the wall beyond that.  She slumped to the ground, dazed and breathless.  She could hear him moving and knew that if she didn’t as well then she was likely to wind up in the same position as Alicia.  She forced herself to her hands and knees, shaking her head rapidly to clear the dizziness she was feeling.  She heard a bizarre sucking sound and Arkayne cursed, she realized he was pulling her arrows out.  She rose to her knees, realized she didn’t have her bow and started to cast about for it.  He swore again and she glanced over the bed to see that he had pulled his foot loose, though the arrow still stuck straight up from it.  He was moving toward the bed, his eyes on her and looking murderous.  Tasha ducked back down behind the bed before he could fling another spell at her, saw her bow had slid beneath the bed and dropped to her belly.  She reached for it, her arm stretching into the shadows and she saw his feet and the hem of his robes appear on the other side.  The bed started to vibrate and her eyes widened as she realized it was starting to lift into the air!  Trusting her instincts, Tasha just reacted, rolling under the bed and grabbing her bow with one hand while drawing another arrow with the other.  She appeared from under the far side of the bed lying at the mages feet and thrust her bow out in front of her, up into the air.  His eyes widened in surprise at seeing her there, his hands extended in front of him as he used his magic to try and move the bed rather than having walked into what he was sure would have been an ambush by circling around it.  Tasha already had her arrow notched and was drawing it back to her cheek even as he saw her at his feet and without bothering to aim, for at this distance she had zero chance of missing, she released the string and it sent the arrow shooting straight up with a soft thrum.

                The arrow took him under the chin, the arrowhead erupting out the top of his head and spraying gray matter across the wall behind him, narrowly missing Alicia.  The impact jerked his head backward and the bed slumped with a crash back to the floor as the mage slowly toppled over backward.  He hit the ground with a soft thump and didn’t move.  Tasha released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding and let her arm slump to her side, still cradling her bow.  She gave herself a minute to recover, then heard a soft moan from the thief that caused her to spring into action.  She scrambled to her feet, sparing a glance for the dead wizard, then rushed to the young humans side.  Alicia picked up her head as Tasha approached and her eyes seemed to light up when she recognized the archer.  Then she saw Arkayne lying on the ground behind her, the shaft of an arrow descending from beneath his chin and she smiled, then let her head sag back to her chest.

                Tasha didn’t speak to her, she was more concerned with finding a way to release the woman.  She examined the cast iron bars that had somehow, no doubt through Arkayne’s magic, wound themselves around her forearms.  She tried to bend them but found that she could not and had to step back with a frown, wondering how in the world she was going to release her friend.  The sound of many booted feet rushing up the hallway drew her attention and she realized that Cletus must have actually gone for the city watch after all. 

                She was only just realizing that the woman was still naked and thinking she should try to cover her when five men barged in, four guards leading the way while Cletus followed them, far more hesitantly.  The guards had their swords drawn and were glowering about, their eyes first settling on the dead wizard, then widening when they saw the naked woman secured to the wall. 

                “Gods above!  What happened here?” asked one of the guards, whose rank insignia Tasha thought marked him as a sergeant.

                “The wizard had kidnapped my friend and was torturing her!”  Tasha said, inventing wildly.  She saw Cletus’s expression flicker for a moment, but thankfully he said nothing.  “I tracked them to this room and found him… well, using his magic on her.”

                “Did you do that?” the sergeant asked, motioning toward the dead mage.  Tasha nodded, and the guard’s eyes widened slightly.  “Well… Cletus here says you heard a scream and that you sent him after us while you broke in to help her.   That would seem to back up your story so…” he glanced around at the other guards.  “…it seems pretty cut and dry to me.”  Tasha was inwardly relieved, for she had been very worried about the fact that Arkayne had been human and she wasn’t.  In Errgaunt it was a crime for any non-human to kill a human and it rarely mattered the circumstances.  But Tasha, who always wore her hair long, was hoping that these men weren’t familiar enough with the other differences in human and elven appearance to want a closer look at her ears, which were concealed beneath her hair. 

                “Can you men maybe help me to release my friend?  I think he used his magic to bend the candle holder like that.”  Three of the four guards stepped forward and started to examine the cast iron wrapped around Alicia’s forearms. The fourth guard was studying Tasha, his expression showing that he thought she looked familiar.  The elf did her best to ignore him, watching the other men instead, knowing that the curious guard had likely seen her face on a wanted flier.  She was afraid to look at him directly, fearing that getting a good look at her face might lead to him recognizing her… which could cause a whole new set of problems.

                The sergeant solved her issue for her.  “Wells, get that body out of here!”  The guard, still frowning at Tasha, jumped as though he hadn’t realized the other men were there and then scrambled to do as he had been ordered.  He took Arkayne’s body by the armpits and started to drag it from the room.  When he was gone, Tasha was able to breathe more freely.  It took a long few minutes and lot of cursing and straining, but the guards finally managed to bend the iron bars back enough that Alicia slipped free and would have fallen to the ground had not one of the men caught her.  Tasha rushed forward with a blanket from the bed and draped it around the young woman.

                “Thank you gentlemen.  Would it be all right if I took her home?  She’ll need rest and care.”  The sergeant nodded.

                “I don’t think we’ll need anything from you, but if we do… where are you staying?”  Tasha gave him the name of her inn and her room number, realizing that she wouldn’t be able to stay there any longer.  If that curious guard remembered who she was then they would know where to go looking for her.  She would have to retrieve her things quickly and make sure not to be there when and if they came looking.  “Thank you miss, and I’m sorry this had to happen to your friend.  Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help?”  Tasha nodded and started to guide Alicia to the door, the young woman now semi-conscious and half supporting herself.  The guards followed them from the room and all the way out of the tavern, then Tasha turned pointedly to the right and started away, the guards staying there to finish their investigation and fill out statements and whatever else they did.

                Sergeant Ludvys Petwar scowled at the catalog he was reading, his dull brown eyes moving from left to right, often over the same line more than once.  Reading was not his strongest suit, that would be bashing skulls, but it was a skill he had understood he had to learn if he wanted to progress in the military of Errgaunt.  He was still learning, but so far he had been proven correct, having been promoted to sergeant fairly quickly after taking up these studies.  He hadn’t realized at the time that getting promoted would mean more time spent behind a desk, like now.  He was manning the main desk in the headquarters of the Milligant city guard, which fronted the lobby.  Behind him, lower ranking guards were processing criminals or filling out reports.  Petwar was reading a damn catalog… and had long since forgotten what the damn thing was advertising.

                When the lobby door opened he glanced up almost eagerly, wanting a distraction from the mundane activity.  His scowl only deepened when he saw the figure that shuffled into the room, stooped and shambling, leaning heavily on a walking stick and all but concealed beneath a shrouding cloak.  The figure was slender and stood just over five feet tall, though the stoop of its spine showed that it might be closer to five nine if it were able to stand up straight.  The tremor that ran through the persons hands and indeed its entire body gave the impression of advanced age.

                “Help you fella?”  Petwar asked, taking a chance that this was a male and not a female.  It didn’t seem graceful enough to be a woman.

                The voice that came from within the hood was breathless and strained, as though walking had taken a great deal out of it.  “Maybe.”  It was the voice of a man at least and Petwar felt a little better that he had guessed correctly.  “I understand you’ve got a prisoner here since sometime last night that I… I’ve been trying to… find.  Shithead owes me some work and he can’t do it cooling his heels in a jail cell!”

                The sergeant raised his brows at the outburst, which seemed somewhat out of character for this small, fragile figure.  “Who is it you’re looking for?  Maybe I can help you out.”

                “Big fella,” the old man said, raising the arm not wrapped around the walking stick well over his head and making Petwar wince at the bruising he saw there, “tall and broad, black hair that hangs to the shoulders.  Calls himself Strut I think.”

                Ludvys nodded slightly.  “Yeah, that sounds like the guy we had in a cell all last night.  He got released this morning though.”

                The sergeant noted the quizzical tilt of the hooded head.  “He did?”  The old man shambled a little closer to the desk.  “Any idea where he went after you let him go?  I’d sure… like to catch up to that… varmint.”

                “I know exactly where he is sir, but I’m afraid you’re not likely to get your moneys worth from that one.  He’s resting in the temple of Noktyrne, but last I heard the priests there didn’t hold much hope for his recovery.”  The little old man staggered back as though shocked by this revelation.  “Hey now, you all right old timer?”

                The old man seemed to be leaning more heavily upon his walking stick now, obviously needing the support.  “What… what happened to him to send him there?”

                “Well,” Petwar was frowning at the old man, wondering at his odd behavior, “someone paid his bail this morning, so we had to let him go.  Poor sap didn’t make it farther than the street out front here before someone turned him into a pin cushion.”

                The old man was still for a moment, as though thinking.  “But he didn’t die right away?”

                The sergeant shook his head.  “He was alive when we got to him, then we took him to the temple and from there it was in the hands of the priests.”

                The old man was starting to turn away.  “Which temple was that again?” he asked.

                “There’s only temples of Noktyrne in this city old timer, everyone knows that.  We took him to the one over on Second Street.”  The old man had already slipped out the door by that point.

                Bryant slipped into an alley less than a block from the jail house and shrugged off the cloak, but kept the walking stick, realizing that he still wasn’t well enough to go without it… not just yet.  He was worried now, apparently someone had decided to go after Strut anyways, despite the fact that they knew they hadn’t gotten him or Tasha.  From the sound of things, his large friend may not be fairing so well.  He decided that he needed to see Strut for himself before he reported back to Tasha.  There was no sense in telling her anything till he knew exactly what the situation was.  The guard at the desk had said that Strut had been taken to the temple of Noktyrne over on Second Street.  Shadow Walker didn’t know too much about the various religions of the world, but he was fairly certain that that one was considered one of the darker religions.  Something to do with Undead he thought.

                ‘Where the Hell is Second Street?’ he wondered, regretting that he hadn’t had time to reconnoiter the city before he had been taken by Ghast.  Still, if it was laid out like most other cities in Errgaunt, which happened to be his homeland, he was fairly certain he could find the temple with minimal difficulty.

                As it turned out, he was correct, for the city watch headquarters had turned out to be on fifth street and so it was a simple matter to find the temple on Second since it was the largest building on the block.  He considered using his disguise to go inside incognito, but thought it might be better to go in unseen, so he blended into the shadows, thankful to find that while he was still stiff and sore, he could move with relative freedom.  He was only limping a little bit as he made his way into the shadow of the temple, bypassing the front entrance in favor of finding a side entrance, which in his experience most such buildings had.  He found what he was looking for around the rear of the temple, where there was a small courtyard that included a statue that Bryant assumed was Noktyrne.  He appeared human, tall and youthful, slender, clad in a nice looking noblemans suit and a long cape.  His hair was long and curly and he had a thin mustache and goatee.  Shadow Walker supposed that the god would be considered handsome, he had never really understood what it was that women found appealing in men, he only liked that many of them saw it in him.

                The door that led into the back of the temple was locked, but for a thief of Bryant’s caliber that didn’t hold him up more than a few seconds.  It opened silently on well oiled hinges and the thief crossed the threshold and moved into the dimly lit interior of the temple.  He found himself in a long, fairly wide hallway lined on both sides with doors and tapestries.  He could hear voices coming from somewhere and crept forward, thinking that the voices might be able to tell him something about his missing friend.  He paused outside a pair of double doors and crouched there, listening.

                “We still don’t know where the others are?”  asked a deep voice, cultured in the way that Bryant had learned meant education.

                “They haven’t surfaced yet, but they will, provided the guild doesn’t get them first.”  This voice was deeper, a baritone.

                “If they’re even half as skilled as you’ve always claimed they are, then they should be able to avoid the guild.”  This from a woman’s voice, though Bryant didn’t think he recognized it.

                “There’s always someone better.”  Came the response from the first man that spoke.

                There was a pause, and then the baritone voice spoke again.  “Well, it seems part of our mystery is solved, the young thief is standing outside the door.”  Bryant froze, his eyes widening, wondering how in the world he could have been caught.  “At least, I think it’s him.  He looks to have suffered quite a beating.”

                The cultured voice spoke again and there wasn’t the slightest doubt of the other mans words in his voice.  “Come in young man, you have nothing to fear from us.”

                Shadow Walker hesitated a fraction of a second, deciding that he really had nothing to lose and opened the door, stepping through.  He found himself in what looked to be a hospital wing of the temple and there was Strut, lying unconscious on a table surrounded by three people.  Two men and woman, the latter perched on the end of Strut’s bed.  She was a beauty, though not on the level of Ariana or Tasha.  She had long red hair and wore a chainmail bikini top and tight leather pants.  On her shapely hips she wore a matching pair of long swords.  Next to her stood a towering man with a silver helm shaped like a vampire demon, the fangs descending to either side of his grim mouth.  He was probably the largest man Bryant had ever seen and he knew from the ruby eyed helm that this had to be Skull.  He had never actually met the warrior before, but he had heard both Tasha and Strut talk about him.  The third man in the room had to be a priest, he had that look and feel about him.  He was about six feet tall and while not slender neither was he over muscled.  He gave the impression of being energetic and fit.  A human in his fifties, his jet black hair was run through with streaks of silver and he had a thick black mustache across his upper lip.  Around his neck hung a medallion shaped like a silver demon skull with horns and fangs, the eyes were rubies.  This, Bryant figured, was the symbol of Noktyrne and this man was no doubt the temples priest.

                The three of them regarded him as he crossed the room toward them, limping slightly.  “Noktyrnes shadow boy!  What’s happened to you?”  Asked the priest, his eyes narrowing more from curiosity than concern.

                “Something similar to what happened to him I’d wager.”  Bryant said, pointing at Strut.

                “I am a priest,” the older man said, stepping toward him, “if you will allow me, I can help you.”

                Bryant held up a hand, stopping him.  “First, tell me who you people are.”  He already suspected he knew that answer to that, but he wondered if they would tell him the truth.

                The three of them exchanged glances, then the priest spoke, “I am Lord Keiran Shayde, lord of Milligant and these two are in my employ.  Skull and Alexis, mercenaries both.”

                “How did you come to have Strut here?”  Bryant asked, not resisting now as Shayde stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.  The priests touch was cool, but a sudden warmth lanced out from it and radiated out through Bryant’s body, removing the pain he was still feeling and though he couldn’t see his own reflection, he thought for certain that he could feel the wounds fading.

                Alex’s full lips spread into a smile.  “Well… you’re down right… pretty when you’re all healed up!”

                Bryant didn’t bother to thank the priest as he stepped away, but he did glower at the woman.  He hated to be referred to as pretty, that was something that Strut and Falcon did to get a rise out of him sometimes, call him a pretty boy.  “Will you answer my question?”

                It was Skull that did so.  “I brought him here after he was attacked outside the jail.  A lucky thing for him that I did too, or he’d be dead already.”

                Bryant looked at the large warrior curiously.  “I thought you hated him?”

                Skull frowned as he turned his head to look down at the unconscious barbarian warrior.  “No, it’s more of a… grudging respect mingled with animosity.”  He grinned as he turned back to the young thief, “Besides, nobody beats on the runt but me.”

                Bryant turned to Shayde.  “You know who we are?  Who we work for?”  The priest nodded, smiling sagely. “From everything I’ve ever heard, there’s no love between the Shayde family and the Dragons.  Why would you help us?”

                Keiran Shayde sighed.  “It’s complicated.”

                “I have time.”  Bryant responded.

                The priest met the young rogues eyes for a moment, then nodded and started to pace, his hands clasped behind his back.  “Are you a religious man Shadow Walker?”  It didn’t surprise Bryant that they knew his professional name, had they known his real name, that would have been cause for concern.  He shook his head.  “No?  Well… whether you worship them or not, can you at least acknowledge that the gods are real?  That they are living beings and that they do, on occasion, take an interest in the dealing of mortals?”  Bryant thought about that for a moment, then nodded.  He had heard as much before.  Keiran nodded, then continued, “I am what is known as the voice of Noktyrne.  The highest ranking mortal priest of the God of the Undead.  My Lord speaks to me… not on a regular basis mind you, but he does speak to me.  And he has made me aware of certain… developments taking place in the world.”

                “What sort of developments?”  Bryant asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

                “These events that you and your friends have gotten tangled up in are far larger than any of you have yet suspected.  Things will be coming to a head soon, and you will need all your combined might to have any hope of surviving.  It is at the request of my God that I have chosen to intervene on your behalf with the local guild.  I cannot, of course, cancel the contract that was placed upon your lives… but I can maybe help you to escape it.”  He glanced at Strut.  “Your friend here will be fine, he is merely sleeping off the effects of the healing magic I had to use to save him.  I understand that there are a couple of more people helping you?  The archer and… I believe… a young thief of the female persuasion?”

                How did he know about Nightshade?  Deciding that didn’t matter so much, Bryant nodded.  There was no point to denying it.  “They’re currently investigating something else while I came looking for Strut.”

                Keiran Shayde nodded.  “Can you bring them here?  If they can bring themselves to trust me I can get you all out of the city and on your way to the closest members of your team.  I believe they are in Trey’Elden?”  Bryant nodded, suspicious of this mans information.  “It is they who will most need your help, I assure you.  And quickly.  Will you go to your friends?  Convince them to come here?”

                Bryant regarded the three of them for a moment and realized that with the current situation being what it was they really had little choice.  “I will.”

                Tasha waited in the small sitting room as Alicia, already feeling better than when she had rescued her from Arkayne, had slipped into the bedroom area and was changing into her thieves accoutrements.  It was as the pretty white haired girl was emerging, once again clad in her dark leathers that the door to the small apartment opened and Shadow Walker entered.  Tasha, not having expected anyone to arrive, spun and raised her bow and arrow.  The thief halted just inside the door, his eyes resting on the weapon then slowly rising to meet her gaze.  Recognizing the young thief, Tasha lowered the bow. 

                “You look a hundred percent better than when I last saw you.”  Tasha commented.

                Bryant nodded, “Magical healing will do that.”

                The elf frowned.  “How did you happen to acquire magical healing?”

                After a brief pause to collect his thoughts, Bryant told the two women what he had found in his search for Strut.  Tasha, who had a few less than amicable dealings with the Shayde family, scowled darkly as he finished his tale.  “I know we have little reason to trust the priest… but he did save Strut’s life and he did heal me and he didn’t ask for anything in return.  I think he’s genuine in his desire to help us.”

                “You think that Noktyrne has taken a personal interest in what we’re doing?”  Tasha asked, the words looking as though they left a foul taste in her mouth.

                Bryant shrugged.  “As to that, I can’t say.  I’m no priest and nor am I religious, but whatever his reasons, he believes them and that should be sufficient, shouldn’t it?”

                Her instinctive answer to that question was an emphatic ”no”, but Tasha couldn’t deny that their current situation was bad enough to warrant accepting help from so unlikely a source as Keiran Shayde.  “He really said that Ariana’s group in Trey’Elden are going to be needing our help?”  Bryant nodded, and that more than anything is what decided Tasha to accept the priests offer. She just hoped her father, Ragnor, would never learn of this.  His religion, the Sect of Justice and the Cult of the Undead had been at odds for centuries, nearly breaking out into a holy war on more than one occasion.  Her father would be irate if he knew she had decided to trust the Voice of Noktyrne.  Tasha turned to Nightshade and raised her eyebrows.  “I can’t speak for you Alicia.  I think I need to go with Bryant because we apparently have other friends out there in need of our help.”

                The young female thief regarded them both for a moment, then she shook her head.  “I don’t think I’ll be going with you.  I have a sister here in the city who could be in danger from the guild now that I’ve left them.  I need to get her to leave with me, then we’ll see where we go from there.”     

                Tasha stepped forward and hugged the younger woman, Alicia seemed at first surprised by the gesture, then she smiled and returned it.  Bryant looked a little uncomfortable and glanced away.  “When you escape from this place, you will have friends in Algeron.  Go there and look for me and I’ll see to it that you have work.”  The young thief nodded, then Tasha turned and gestured to Bryant.  “Lead the way.” 

                Shadow Walker paused, glancing over at Alicia, then he stepped forward and extended his hand to her.  She looked slightly surprised, then smiled as she took his hand and they shook.  “Thank you.”  He said to her.  “I understand what it cost you to help me.  I won’t forget it, I swear to you.”  Alicia didn’t trust herself to talk at that moment, so she said nothing.  Bryant merely turned then and exited the apartment, Tasha tossing a final wave at the other rogue as she turned to follow him.

                Natashiana felt a chill run down the length of her spine as she stepped into the room that the young acolyte had led them to.  Bryant had been surprised, expecting to be led back to the room where Strut was recovering, but when they stepped into what looked like an office they found the barbarian warrior standing across the room from them, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest.  “Strut!”  Tasha rushed across the room and threw her arms around him, the barbarian smiling as he returned the hug.

                “What the hell has he got that I don’t?”  Asked a baritone voice from another corner of the room.  Tasha turned her head, not releasing her friend, and saw the massive warrior called Skull standing there watching them.

                “Class, for starters.”  Tasha said, then had to stifle a laugh.  Under other circumstances, she realized that Strut might well have been offended by that attempted compliment.  She let her gaze linger for a moment on the shapely redhead standing next to Skull and saw the smirk on Alex’s face as she looked back at the elf.

                A door that she hadn’t noticed upon entering opened at that moment and in walked Kieran Shayde, followed by his eldest son, the First Knight of Errgaunt, Sir Erlyk Shayde.  The Black Knight, as he was called, was a tall and darkly handsome man, well muscled though not so large as Strut.  His build was more athletic.  He had dark, penetrating eyes and close cropped black hair that contrasted marvelously with his pale skin.  A harsh red scar ran up the left side of his face, from the bottom of his eye down past the side of his mouth.   When the knight saw her standing with Strut, the barbarians’ arms still loosely about her he smiled slightly.

                “Elf.”  He said with a nod, his eyes boldly roaming her curvy body.

                She flushed in spite of herself.  “Sir Erlyk.”

                Keiran Shayde moved to the space behind his large, dark wood desk and faced the others, his son taking up position behind and slightly to the side of him.  “Is this all that remains of your party?”  He asked. 

                Strut, who wasn’t privy to much of what had transpired, glanced down at Tasha.  It was the archer who answered the priest.  “It is.  Vance Falcone was our leader, but he’s dead.  Talon Rethbourne has betrayed us and is likely searching the city for me as we speak.  I killed Arkayne when I found him torturing the thief called Nightshade.”

                “Ah… I expected that she would be with you as well.”  Keiran looked pointedly around the room.

                “She… chose not to accompany us at this time.”  Tasha said, not certain how much the Shayde’s knew about Alicia and not wanting to give away that the girl had a sister in the city.  “Perhaps she’ll catch up to us later.”

                Keiran accepted that with a brief nod, then glanced toward the door through which he and his son had just come.  “Very well then, we’ll proceed.”  Suddenly he seemed oddly nervous, but the emotion passed as quickly as it had come.  “As I mentioned to young Shadow Walker here, I have reason to believe that your friends in Trey’Elden are in more danger than they can possibly know.”

                “You get this from Noktyrne do you?”  Tasha couldn’t keep the bite from those words.

                Keiran looked at her, his gaze lingering for a moment, then he nodded.  “I do in fact, though inderectly.  There are forces at play here that no one is yet aware of.”

                “Except you.”  Strut offered.

                Lord Shayde shrugged.  “Even I don’t know all of it, only what my lord wished me to know, and that is that your friends are in grave danger from a powerful force they cannot possibly comprehend.  If you don’t make all haste for Trey’Elden then it is very likely that they will not survive what is to come.”

                “Can you elaborate on that?”  Tasha asked him, instinctively distrustful of the mans words.

                “Alas, I cannot.”  Keiran looked genuinely apologetic about this.  “I know only that there is a powerful dark magic at work in those mountains.  This seems to be one of those things that the Gods are convinced we must discover the true nature of for ourselves.  Surely, as the daughter of a priest yourself, you understand such things?”

                Tasha frowned but nodded grudgingly.  All religions were redolent with such tales of Godly intervention.  They were notorious for giving just enough information to set their heroes on the right path, but not enough to actually save their lives.  “You say Ariana and her team are in trouble… fine, we’ll go help them.  But passage through Errgaunt is not going to be easy when there are bounty hunters and who knows what else searching for us.”

                Keiran nodded.  “That is why my son,” he gestured at Erlyk who smiled slightly, “Skull and Alexis,” he then pointed at the two warriors across the room, “will accompany you.”

                “What?”  Strut and Tasha said together.  Bryant was quiet, merely watching events unfold, the hood of his cloak pulled low to mask his features.

                “My sons presence will ensure you safe passage through Errgaunt, none would dare to challenge the First Knight.  Skull and Alex are capable warriors and where you’re going you’re likely to need as many warriors as you can get.”  Shayde commented.

                “Plus they’re all loyal to you which means you get to keep tabs on us.”  Strut said, unconvinced of the sincerity of the mans offer.

                Keiran shrugged.  “These are the terms, and you are in no position to refuse them.”

                “Fine, we’ll travel with them.”  Tasha said, feeling Strut stiffen slightly at her side.  “But don’t expect us to follow their orders.  We don’t work for them or you!”

                Keiran Shayde nodded.  “That is acceptable.”  He glanced over his shoulder at his son.  “We have arranged for you all to have horses and supplies for the journey.  If there is anything else you need before you leave I will send a servant to retrieve it.  It is not wise for any of you to be seen wandering the streets just now.”

                “We all have things in our rooms that should be retrieved.  My sword for one.”  Tasha commented.

                “I have gear in my room as well.”  Strut added.

                “I’ll see to its retrieval.  In the meantime, a meal has been prepared.  I suggest you all partake, it is difficult to say when the next chance to feast thus will present itself.”  He nodded toward his son, who stepped forward and motioned for everyone to follow him.  They did, filing out the room in single file.  Bryant was the last to go, pausing just inside the door and turning back toward the priest.  He met the older humans eyes, then turned his head slightly and glanced toward the door through which he and the Black Knight had come.  He hadn’t missed the other mans nervous glance in that direction and wanted the priest to know that.  Keiran nodded slightly and then the thief was gone, following the others toward the dining room.  After a few moments had passed and he was certain they were all well past hearing distance, Keiran said, “Does that suffice milord?”

                From the back room, where he and Erlyk had been before entering the office, strode a man of haunting good looks.  He was tall and slender, clad in the finest suit that could be found in any kingdom and had a cape hanging from his shoulders that billowed out around him as he walked.  His skin was smooth and tanned, his black hair hung to his shoulders in curls and there was a neatly trimmed goatee and mustache framing his generous mouth.  He looked youthful and radiated power, which was fitting for an Avatar of the god of the Undead.  “It shall have to do.”  Said Noktyrne, his eyes on the door through which the heroes and their new allies had departed.  “I only hope that they are up to the task.”

                Shayde watched the back of the mortal aspect of his chosen God nervously for a moment, then straightened, squaring his shoulders.  “My lord… if I may.”  Noktyrne turned back to him, smiling ever so slightly, as though he knew what was to come.  “My eldest son… my heir… travels with them, into unknown dangers.  Please… might I know what he faces?”

                The avatar of Noktyrne regarded him a moment, then turned away and crossed the room slowly, toward a well stocked book case.  As he seemingly perused the titles, he spoke softly, “Is there any God within your range of knowledge, Kieran Shayde, who is greater than I?”

                The High Priest of the Undead bowed his head subserviently.  “Of course not my lord!”

                Noktyrne’s smile widened even more, showing just the barest hint of fangs protruding from below his upper lip.  “Perhaps not now, but such was not always the case.”  Keiran frowned but said nothing, waiting for the other to continue.  “I am the God of the Undead Keiran Shayde, those creatures that dwell in the darkness and shadows are mine to command.  But such was not always the case… there was one… a God whose darkness was absolute and his power nearly so.  ‘Twas he that created the darkness in which my denizens dwell.  A shadow god of such immense power….”  He trailed off, apparently unable to find the words to continue.

                “I have never heard of such a being, my lord.”  Said Lord Shayde softly.

                Noktyrne turned to his most faithful servant and shook his head.  “There is no reason you should have.  He was imprisoned millennia ago… we hoped for all eternity, but alas it was not to be.  His servants have found his prison and they are making great strides toward freeing him from it.”

                “That is what you hope them to stop?”  Kieran looked wide eyed toward the door through which his son and the others had vanished.

                “I fear it is already too late to stop it… but they will be integral to what comes after.  So long as there is light, the darkness can never prevail.  But light creates shadows, and it is here where he is strongest.  Dark times lie ahead Keiran Shayde, and you would do well to prepare for them.”

Chapter Ten

                Night had long since fallen and the group was weary from a hard days traveling through some of the harshest, rockiest terrain any of them had ever encountered.  Any, that is, save for the three barbarians who were acting as their guides.  Devlin, Kelvan and Shayla had warned the others that the going would not be easy once they headed into the unsheltered Trey’Elden mountains and they hadn’t exaggerated.  Ariana had considered buying horses for the journey, remembering that the shadow elves they had rescued Ishara from had been in a wagon.  This had led her to the mistaken idea that the route into the mountains must be relatively easy to traverse, but the children of Rolfe had assured her that this was not the case.  In fact, they had said that if she bought horses, they would refuse to ride them and this was saying something considering that the mountain folk were well known for the skill on horseback.  It hadn’t taken long for the paladin to recognize the wisdom of their advice and she wondered how in the world the shadow elves had managed to get up here with a carriage.  The barbarians didn’t know, but Ishara, who had opted to go on with them and assist in the rescuing of her sister had an idea.

                “That particular group of shadow elves was rather magically powerful.  I imagine they either have a magical means of transport, their carriage is enchanted, or they know of some secret way into the mountain range.”  The elven priestess, walking along at the side of Wolfgar Graybeard, was now clad in a more subdued robe of light blue, cinched about her narrow waist with a wide leather belt.  A hooded cloak covered her blonde tresses and fell down her back to her ankles.  In her right hand she held a staff, not unlike those wielded by mages and it was doubling as a walking stick for the elf.

                “From what little we know of ‘em,” Gar grumbled as he trudged along at her side, “they’re primarily a subterranean race.  Likely they have tunnels that traverse this entire range.  The tribes,” he nodded toward the three siblings guiding them, walking together farther up the trail, “would likely never navigate any tunnels for fear of the predators that dwell within.  The shadow elves would have the advantage around here under ground, same as the tribes would have it above.”

                Ariana, who was walking along at the head of her group, a few yards behind the barbarians, glanced over her shoulder at the dwarf.  “To hear them talk,” she nodded toward the siblings, “they didn’t have much of an advantage above ground either.”

                “The shadow elves don’t always travel underground.”  This from their prisoner, Shadow Stalker, who walked along bereft of weapons and with his hands manacled behind his back, under the watchful eye of Magnus Jorvel, who moved along behind him.  “I traveled with them for a spell, they will do whatever is most comfortable for them.  The interior of that carriage is magically altered to resemble their subterranean home,” Ishara nodded at that, confirming the assassins words, “as a result they are equally comfortable above ground or below.  However, when it comes to this mountains, I believe the did have a tunnel they intended to use.  They talked about it during times when the sisters were… sleeping.”

                “Drugged unconscious you mean!”  Ishara snapped.  The priestess was none too happy about having the assassin along, even if he was in chains.  She had been a big advocate for leaving him back in town under the watchful eyes of the city guards.  But Ariana had her reasons for wanting the man along, not the least of which was that she doubted a small town jail could hold him and she didn’t want him coming up behind them, but she didn’t inform the others of her reasoning.

                Shadow Stalker shrugged at her words, unapologetic.  “There were some things they didn’t want you two to know.”

                “Like what?”  Magnus asked, but the assassin fell silent at that.  He had made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t about to give away any of his employers secrets, even under threat of torture.  Of course, he had probably known that that particular threat from Ariana had been empty.  She wasn’t afraid to use such methods in questioning a suspect when they were absolutely necessary, but she hadn’t found them to be such as yet.

                “Do you suppose they’re going to bother to find someplace to make camp?”  Ishara spoke up, her blue eyes on the backs of the barbarians guiding them through the mountains.  “It isn’t going to get any warmer up here tonight.”  As she spoke she pulled her cloak more firmly around her.

                “I’m sure they know we’ll need to rest soon.  It’s too dangerous to continue through these passes at night.”  Ariana told them, though privately she had her doubts about that.  She was fairly convinced that if she didn’t stop them, these three would press on non stop till they reached their village.  “I’ll see if I can’t expedite matters though.”  She offered and quickened her pace to catch up to the siblings.  However, as she was approaching them from behind she became aware of the fact that they were arguing about something.  She frowned, straining to pick up the words but couldn’t make out anything over the increasing volume of the winds up here in the mountains.  As she watched them though she noticed a small figure break away from their huddle and scamper off to one side, her green eyes tracking the arachnid as it made its way to a rock outcropping and metamorphosed right before her eyes into the diminutive goblin priest that had left Peacehope with them weeks ago.  Rachnid motioned her over to him and, still frowning, she adjusted her path to take her to the rocks.  She glanced back and noticed Gar scowling at them, but she motioned the others to continue on.  She also saw that the assassin’s eyes were on them as the group passed.  “What is it?”

                Rachnid turned to gaze up the hill after the others, a tiny spider crawling over his bald head and sending a shiver through her.  She wasn’t afraid of spiders, but neither was she comfortable with the idea of them crawling all over her body like they always seemed to be doing over this little spider priest.  His bald head with its tattoo of a spider web intricately woven over the top barely came to the humans breasts and she had to crouch slightly to hear him so soft was he speaking when he answered her.  “The prince is ill.”

                Ariana frowned.  “Which one?”

                “Kelvan.”  Ariana nodded at this.  She had suspected as much for a while now, noticing the young warriors odd behavior, sudden violent outbursts and the way he brooded at night when they would make camp.  Of course, that was only when he wasn’t alternately staring lustfully at her, Ishara or occasionally his own sister, though he was careful not to be caught in the latter.

                “Do you know what’s wrong with him?”  She asked, knowing that if he was sick it was the two clerics in the party who would have the greatest chance of helping him.

                Rachnid shook his bald head.  “As I was walking with them, the older two were trying to question him about his behavior.  Trying to understand what was causing the changes we’ve all been seeing within him.  He was getting angry and telling them to leave him be, that he was fine… he’s obviously not fine.”

                Ariana sighed, thinking that this mysterious illness, whatever it was, was the last thing they needed on a journey that was already fraught with peril.  “Keep an eye on the situation for me, all right?  If he becomes unstable or a threat to the others… he may have to be dealt with.”

                “Of course.”  Rachnid nodded, then turned and took off up the path, following the others.  Ariana was grateful that he didn’t take up his spider form again, for she had had quite enough spiders for a while.  By the time they caught up to the rest of the group Devlin and his siblings had led them to a cave with a narrow opening that would act as a good shield against the advancing wind.

                “Sorry this took so long to find.  We didn’t want to stop till we’d reached it, this place is known to us and we feel fairly safe here.”  Devlin informed her, not questioning what she and the goblin had been doing.  Did he know that the little cleric had been spying on them?  She doubted that, Rachnid was fairly good at that and hard to notice when in spider form. Perhaps the elder prince was just too distracted by what was happening with his brother to care at the moment.

                “Is it big enough for all of us?”  Ariana asked, looking at the narrow opening dubiously. 

                Devlin just smiled and motioned her toward the entrance.  “See for yourself.”  Ariana moved into the cave followed by Rachnid and Devlin to find that the rest of the party was already inside and setting up camp for the night.  Kelvan was making a fire for cooking and warmth near the entrance so the smoke wouldn’t fill the cave and the others were scattered about the surprisingly large cavern, laying out bedrolls and going about their business.  Ariana nodded, impressed with the choice. 

                “You’d never know from outside that it was this big.”  She told the prince, who grinned and nodded.  Seeing that Magnus was setting the assassin up in a corner of the cave, Ariana moved in their direction to see if he needed help.  The mage was busy drawing a circle on the ground as she approached and she paused, keeping silent as he worked so that she didn’t break his concentration.  The paladin knew little about magic, but thanks to her sisters she knew that most mages studied only one or two different schools of magical theory. Her friend Magnus was the only mage she had ever known who seemed able to handle studying several.  A magical circle, for example, was the domain of the Scrivener, and it was not something she knew he had any knowledge of. 

                When he had finished with the tracing of the circle, which she could see was drawn in something that glittered like silver in the dimly lit cave, he stood and turned toward her.  “Circle of containment.  It’s the best I can do for a makeshift jail cell.”

                Ariana smiled and reached out to squeeze his shoulder.  “You never cease to amaze me my friend.”  Magnus’s return smile was genuine, for he was always pleased when someone commented on his breadth of magical knowledge.  This was particularly true when that someone was Ariana, whom he had always had something of a crush on.

                Satisfied that their prisoner was as securely held as they could make him for the night, Ariana turned and found Gar standing several yards away, frowning at a wall of the cave.  Smiling in a bemused sort of way at what she had always thought of as the dwarf’s rather eccentric behavior, she moved in his direction.  Hearing her approach, the old warhorse turned and looked at her, pointing at the wall.  “Have you ever seen growth like this?”

                Ariana moved her gaze to where he was indicating and saw what looked like some sort of black algae forming on the wall in front of the dwarf.  “Is that some kind of… moss?” she asked curiously.

                He shook his head.  “I’m not sure what it is!  As a dwarf, I’ve spent most of me life under ground, picking metals out of rocks and I’m telling ye girl, I ain’t never seen the like o’ this before!”

                Ariana stepped a little closer to the wall and reached out a gloved hand toward the dark substance which she could see as she got closer was more of a dark green than black.  Gar opened his mouth to warn her against touching it, but as her fingers drew near the growth on the wall suddenly shifted away, leaving the bare rock where her fingers had been about to touch, surrounded by the black substance.  She frowned, tilting her head slightly, a faint skittering noise reaching her ears as the dark green stuff, which she identified peripherally as mold, began to shift and coalesce on the wall in front of them.  Ariana danced nimbly backward, her hand rising to the hilt of Vindicator, still riding diagonally on her back.  “Magnus!” she called sharply, aware that Gar had already drawn his warhammer at her side.  She heard the mage running across the cavern, concerned not only at her tone but at the traces of magical energy he was definitely detecting from that wall.  “What is this?”

                The mage arrived at her side, his eyes narrowed as he looked at the almost black mold moving along the wall.  Ariana only now realized how much of it there had been, for what had been on the wall within reach of them was only a small fraction of what had coated the ceiling of the high cavern, stretching up along the rock wall and disappearing into the darkness.  It was all coming together now, piling up in a large lump on the wall in front of them.  “No…” the mage mumbled to himself, leaning forward so far that Ariana had to reach out and grab the collar of his robe to keep him from burying his face in the stuff, “…it can’t be!”

                “Can’t be what?”  Ariana demanded. By now the others had become aware of them and were watching curiously.  The mold was gathering more rapidly now so that the pile that protruded out from the wall stretched a good three feet toward them.  Ariana blinked suddenly, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw the pile begin to take shape, forming what looked like a vaguely humanoid head and upper torso, broad and apparently well muscled arms forming at its sides.  “Is that thing… alive?” she gasped, finally drawing Vindicator fully from its scabbard.

                “It’s a… a Sporelock!”  Magnus seemed torn between being horrified and fascinated by the creature that was so rapidly forming out of the mold that was gathering on the wall.

                Ariana frowned, searching her memory of known monsters of the world for some hint of a creature by that name.  “What in the Seven Levels of Hell is a Sporelock?” she finally asked.

                Magnus, his voice tinged with awe, answered, “They’re supposed to be extinct!”

                “Oddly, that doesn’t help me to determine if it’s going to try and eat us!”  Ariana barked at the mage, who shook his head sharply, seeming to come out of his trancelike fascination.

                “Oh!  Uhm, no… they don’t eat meat… not really.”  He told her.

                Ariana glanced at him sharply.  “Not really?  What does that mean?”

                “Well, it likely will try to kill us, then it will engulf us in its mold spores and slowly break us down to our most basic chemical components.  The whole process will take about… ten years or so.”  Magnus said this as though giving a lecture on a particularly rare form of fungus to a bored classroom full of students.

                “Ten years huh?”  Ariana was backing away from the wall now, followed by Gar.  “You’ll forgive me if I find something better to do with the next decade?”

                The Sporelock had fully formed by now into a creature that stood about seven and a half feet tall and had a humanoid, bipedal shape that lumbered toward them on a pair of stout looking legs.  It was easily four feet wide and Ariana thought she could see something that looked like eyes and a mouth on what passed for its head, but there was nothing resembling a nose and any resemblance it did have to an actual person was wholly coincidental.  The wicked looking claws that she saw at the ends of its arm appendages were no coincidence though, those she was fairly certain would rend flesh rather easily.

                “Mage!”  Growled Wolfgar, “How do we hurt it?”

                Magnus arched an eyebrow, his expression saying very clearly that he wished it weren’t necessary to destroy the creature.  No doubt he would have loved the opportunity to study it.  “Well… fire, naturally.  Mold requires oxygen and moisture to flourish, so if you take away one or both of those things it will die.”

                Ishara and Rachnid stayed near the entrance to the cave, ready to offer aid in the form of healing should it become necessary while Devlin, Kelvan and Shayla, having heard the mages words, raced over carrying burning branches from the fire.  The monster didn’t seem to fear the flames though, in fact if anything the sight of the fire seemed to enrage it.  Ariana got the distinct impression that if this creature had vocal chords it would be roaring in rage right now, but it was ominously silent as it lumbered toward them.

                Devlin was the first to strike, lunging forward from Ariana’s right and jabbing at the creature with his burning piece of firewood.  The burning stick sunk deep into the shoulder of the Sporelock, sizzling as it entered the things spongy body.  The fire was extinguished though as the stick sunk in past the point where it was burning and the astonished barbarian, who hadn’t expected so little resistance from his attack, didn’t have time to dodge away as the monster lashed out with a backhand that caught him across the side of the head and sent him flying into a nearby cave wall.  The once burning stick was left jutting from the monsters shoulder, seemingly forgotten.  Ariana lunged forward then, swiping diagonally across the monsters body, starting at its left shoulder and moving toward its right hip.  Vindicator passed through the monster effortlessly, a slight squelching noise as though cutting through mud issuing forth and before the paladin’s astonished eyes the cut she made closed up right behind the sword as it passed through the creature.  Ariana ducked a backhand similar to the one that had sent Devlin flying, spinning beneath the swinging arm and trying again to cut the monster, Vindicator flashing as she sliced toward its knees, or the approximate location where its knees should have been.  Her magical blade passed right through with that same wet sucking noise as the first time and her cuts closed up behind Vindicator as though they hadn’t ever been there.  This time the monster caught her, kicking out as she was crouched before it, the lower half of its left leg caught her across her chest, flinging her backward into the center of the cave.  She felt a thin, wet coating of the mold seeping into her cleavage where the monsters body had touched her bare skin and as she pushed herself up to a sitting position she looked down as saw that her mithron breastplate was coated in the slimy goop.  She suppressed a shudder of revulsion as the mold slid down between her breasts and spread out across her ribcage. The though occurred to Ariana then that the mold itself might be alive, that even then it was spreading out in preparation of devouring her… or whatever it was that Magnus had said it would do.  She didn’t feel anything painful, not yet at any rate, and she remembered that the mage had said it took ten years for it to do its work.  Still, she had no intention of leaving the stuff there any longer than she had to!

                As the paladin scrambled back to her feet, the fight continued without her.  The two remaining siblings, Kelvan and Shayla, having learned from their brothers error, were slapping at the monster with their burning wood as opposed to stabbing and were having somewhat more success, but it seemed far too little to do much good.  They were leaving black scorch marks on the Sporelock, but all it seemed to be doing was angering the monster even more.  Wolfgar with his magical hammer was having far more luck than Ariana’s sword had had, the flat head of the hammers face seeming to diminish the creature with every blow, splattering some of the mold spores back against the wall.  Eventually this might prove enough to finish the creature, but she could see that the stout dwarf was already tiring and was likely to falter before it was ever hurt enough to make a difference.  Glancing over her shoulder she saw that Ishara and Rachnid seemed to be working well together, casting spells upon the fighters though Ariana had little idea what they could be doing.  She was certain it was helpful and that was all that really mattered.  To her right Magnus seemed to have fallen deep into spell casting and she figured if any of them was going to come up with something to stop this creature, it would be him.

                Realizing that Vindicator was useless against this creature, Ariana reluctantly laid her later fathers sword aside and turned to drag a burning stick from the fire as the barbarians had done.  With a hefty enough piece of burning wood in hand, she moved toward the Sporelock, raising it high and shouting in fury.  She saw Gar go down under the claws of the monster and her heart skipped a beat, her eyes following the beloved dwarf as he crawled away from the monster.  The distraction cost her however as she came within range of the creature, who saw her fire coming and parried her now half-hearted attempt at a strike, knocking the stout stick from her hands and staggering the paladin to the side.   The Sporelocks’ claws closed around her upper arm and jerked her back toward it, the paladin crying out in fear and fury as felt its wet, slimy arms close around her waist, lifting her off the ground.  Ariana felt the mold spores oozing off the creature and coating her front as she struggled against its stifling embrace, the Sporelock flinging her around like a rag doll.  It was unbelievable how strong it was!  She pounded on its shoulders with her fists but to no avail, it was as though the creature couldn’t feel pain, and then she realized that that was very likely the case!  A creature made entirely of mold was unlikely to have any pain receptors… she doubted whether it even had a brain.  Likely it was attacking them out of instinct, which meant that it was an unthinking monster, which was all the more dangerous.

                Suddenly the ambient temperature around them rose quickly, causing sweat to spring to the surface of Ariana’s sun bronzed skin, adding to the already slick mess that was permeating her front.  However, the sweat was short lived as the heat increased and the monsters struggles did likewise.  Shortly she realized that the monster was losing some of its sliminess, that it was drying out!  She glanced around and saw that Magnus was standing nearby, his eyes closed as if in concentration, the barbarian princess standing in front of him protectively.  Ariana gasped as the Sporelock suddenly dropped her and she staggered, feeling a pair of strong arms catch her by the shoulders to keep her from falling.  She glanced around and saw Kelvan standing with her, his eyes on the monster which Ariana saw, now that she could focus on it from a distance, was dying.  The spell that Magnus was using to increase the heat of the room was causing the monster to dry out and as it staggered around parts of its body were beginning to crumble and fall away.  First an arm, then it lost a leg which sent it toppling to the ground where another large chuck of its torso shattered.  Before long it lay on the rocky floor, unmoving, a pile of dead mold spores.  Ariana turned to Kelvan to thank him for his help but frowned when she saw the young prince’s gaze directed at her armors low-cut neckline.  She glanced down at herself and realized that she was filthy… she was beyond filthy and she felt worse.  The mold had dried onto her skin and the sweat had dried as well, causing her long red hair to cling to her shoulders and scalp.  She thought she looked a fright, but she had seen before that many men thought this particular look on a woman was quite appealing.  Apparently the young prince was among that crowd.

                Suddenly he realized that she was glaring at him and when he met her gaze he didn’t blush with embarrassment like she had expected him to, but smiled lecherously before releasing her and moving over to check on his brother, who was still picking himself up off the floor after having been flung against the wall by the Sporelock.  Having experienced its strength first hand, Ariana couldn’t fault him for being a little stunned by the blow.  Remembering that Gar too had been hit, she spun around and found the dwarf being fussed over by Ishara.  She started toward them, but was intercepted by Rachnid.  “He’ll be fine.  The Sporelock scratched him pretty deeply and some of that mold got into the wound, so she’s having to clean it out.  He’s whining like a baby… so much for the legendary dwarven toughness!”

                At that moment, from across the room, Gar said, “Damn it woman!  Be careful, that hurts!”

                “Oh stop your whining or I’ll let the goblin treat you!”  Ariana saw the eager gleam that came into Rachnid’s face at those words, and evidently the dwarf did as well for his complaints ceased.

                “Are you all right Lady Ariana?  I saw the monster get hold of you as well.”  Rachnid asked, looking her over solicitously.

                “Nothing a nice long bath wouldn’t fix.”  Ariana commented drily.

                Rachnid, who was probably the cleanest goblin that Ariana had ever met, nodded understandingly, pointedly picking a few mold spores off his robes.  Ariana realized only then that there were dried and dead mold spores floating through the cave like pollen off a newly bloomed flower.  “This stuff will get everywhere!”

                Ariana, thinking to ask Magnus if he knew of a way to get rid of the floating spores, turned to find the mage crouched down by the dead Sporelock, gathering a sample of the mold into a small glass phial.  She shook her head, amazed by the mans dedication to knowledge, and then moved toward him.  She saw Shayla still standing nearby, looking torn between checking on her brothers and speaking to the mage.  This wasn’t the first time that Ariana had noticed that the princess seemed taken with Magnus, nor was she surprised. Among the tribes magic was taboo, and those that wielded it were often looked on with fear and prejudice.  The fact that Magnus was a magic wielder was going to seem to dark and mysterious to her, the fact that he was actually very nice and not bad looking would build on her attraction.

                “That was good thinking.”  Ariana told the mage as she stopped at his side.

                He smiled faintly as he stood up, then his gaze settled on her disheveled appearance and his eyes widened slightly.  “None too soon either apparently.”  He lifted his eyes to meet hers.  “Sorry about that.”

                Ariana smiled and reached out to place a hand on his shoulder.  “Don’t be sorry, you may well have saved our lives with that spell.”  She leaned in and kissed his cheek, trying not to laugh at the way he blushed.  “Can you do something about the atmosphere in here?  Getting rid of all these floating spores would be a good thing.  I don’t relish the thought of breathing in this stuff.”  She glanced down at herself.  “It’s bad enough I’m going to have to wear it till we can get somewhere I can bathe.”

                From a few feet away Shayla suddenly spoke up.  “But you can do that here!”

                Ariana turned to her, frowning slightly, not understanding.  “We didn’t have a chance to tell you before all the excitement.”  The princess took the opportunity to move closer to them.  “One of the reasons we like to stay in this cave so much when we travel is that there is a natural hot spring deeper in.  It even has a bit of a waterfall for showering!  It’s one of the many wonders of our mountains, something we were hoping you might want to take advantage of while you were here.”

                Thinking that she might not have to be filthy for as long as she had originally assumed, Ariana smiled at the younger girl.  “That sounds like something I’m going to have to see for myself.”

                “I’ll show you where it is if you like.”  Shayla commented.

                “Let me get a few things then we’ll go.”  Ariana said, leaving the mage to his studies of the mold monsters remains.  She crossed the cavern to where she had dropped her pack when she came in the cave and moved it over to where Gar was still being treated by Ishara.  The old dwarf was wincing and glowering at the elf who was smiling in a way that made Ariana think she might be enjoying torturing the dwarf just a bit.  “Keep an eye on things here, will you?  I’m going to go get cleaned up.”  The dwarf was still scowling at Ishara, but nodded at her words.  Ariana pulled clean clothes from her pack and the few necessities for bathing, then turned and saw Shayla waiting for her in a section of the cavern where the shadows were deepest.  She moved over and joined the princess, who turned and disappeared into the darkness.  Frowning, Ariana followed and after a few steps realized she had entered a tunnel worn into the rock over centuries.  The entrance to the tunnel had been completely lost amid the shadows and Ariana looked around in wonder, able to see only a few feet in front of her in the darkness but hearing Shayla moving along in front of her confidently.

                “How long have your people been using this place?”  The paladin asked.

                “Centuries I think.  Much longer than any of us have been alive at least.  No one has been here for a long while though, which would explain how that monster came to be here.  My people would have cleared something like that out if they had found it.”  There was a pause as the princess halted, prompting Ariana to do the same as she came upon the young woman suddenly.  A moment later a torch flared to life, blinding both women for a moment.  “Sorry, I should have warned you.  Past users always stock this area with provisions such as torches before they leave.  We’ll do the same before we move on.”

                Now guided by the light of the torch, which flickered and danced on the narrow walls of the tunnel, Shayla continued deeper in.  “Does this tunnel fork at all?  I’d hate to get lost down here.”

                “We’ve explored these caverns pretty thoroughly.  There are forks, but they’re much farther down than we’ll be going.  As long as you enter the right cavern when you’re done there shouldn’t be any problem finding your way back.”  A few minutes later the two women entered a large cavern, the walls of which glistened with moisture in the light of the torch.  Ariana gazed about, eyes wide as she noted the clear pool of water that encompassed the floor of the cavern some twenty feet below the ridge where they had emerged.  To her right the ridge spiraled down the side of the cavern to a narrow strip of rock that served as a walkway along the edge of the pool.  There were other tunnels leading off of this cavern, their entrances dotting the wall along the spiraling ledge.  To her left it continued up as far as she could see until swallowed by darkness and there were more tunnels leading off the rising ledge as well.  “We’re fairly certain these tunnels are the work of dwarves from well before the tribes settled here.  They look to be worn by water, but the placement of the tunnels and things just seems too perfect to have been formed by nature.”

                “You may be right.  The ancient dwarves were known for camouflaging their work to look like that of nature.  There are telltale signs… Gar might know.  We’ll have to bring him down here later and see what he thinks.”  Ariana turned then to follow the princess down the sloping rock ledge, which was wide enough to traverse comfortably.  As they moved away from the tunnel they had come out of the paladin glanced back to the face of the rock that had been concealed beneath them and she was surprised to see a stream of water shooting out of the smooth rock face, steam rising from it and the pool below.  The water splashed onto a flat rock surface located about midway across the pool and the paladin saw that she would be able to stand there beneath the spout and use it as though it were a shower.  “How hot is this water?”

                “Hot.  But not enough to scald.  It take a few moments to get used to.”  The princess and the paladin arrived at the narrow strip of rock that ran along one edge of the pool and Shayla turned to face her.  “Can you find your way back or should I wait for you?”