Chapter Eight

by Steve Pagano

There had been a time a number of years ago – Fiona seemed to recall that she was just over eight years old at the time – that Fiona’s parents decided to spend the Yule with distant relatives who lived on the Sapphire Coast, far south of Sarakkhis on the shore of the Eastern Sea. They had left Sarakkhis early in the month of Endember [December], traveling by carriage to Arendia before embarking on a merchant ship for the remainder of the journey to the isolated city. The trip had not been an unpleasant one, for Fiona had brought several books with her to read en route and while there, and the relatives in the Sapphire Coast were pleasant to spend time with. Yet Fiona had been possessed with some sense of melancholy throughout that entire month, and something seemed to be absent during the Yule celebration. For quite some time she had been unable to put a finger on what had bothering her, until suddenly it had struck her on the return journey: what she had missed was snow. Sarakkhis did not nearly get so much snow each winter as some of the other cities of its latitude, such as Whestkrin or Albania, but each year without fail the snows would come by the middle of Endember, and the Yule was always spent indoors while the snows fell gently outside, transforming the streets into slush, and blanketing the roofs with a shining white coverlet.

It was this image again that struck Fiona as she stood on Kane’s porch, taking the moment to gaze out at the Academy grounds, and at the fresh foot of snow that had transformed the place into a breathtaking vista. A thousand and one thoughts raced through her head as she stood there and contemplated the events of the past few weeks. With the exception of a single snowstorm that brought their progress home to a halt for a few days, the weather for the return trip was much less inclement than that of the trip out. Temperatures remained below freezing, but the wind behaved itself, and the days’ marches were pleasant and crisp, as they rode their horses across the snow-dusted paths of the Great North Woods. They had arrived back at Roan’s cabin early in the evening of the 30^th of Tinuviel [November], none the worse for wear, having taken three days less on the return trip than on the way out, despite carrying considerably more on the way home. Some time was spent counting and then dividing the money evenly six ways, after which each person took her own share and went her own way for the next few days. After all, there was just so much for each of them to do, and each was in a dreadful rush to begin her tasks. Yesterday, after they had divided up the magical items they had found among the treasure – after discerning their nature with some help from the Academy labs – her four companions had each arranged for training with his or her respective master, while Fiona had taken the time to relax a bit in the baths of the Academy and work some of the snarls out of her hair, which she then had trimmed. A quick tour of the Academy had turned up no sign of Vernon – he was still out of town with his new adventuring companions – but Madelyne was more than happy to accompany Fiona to dinner, and subsequently monopolize their evening. Fiona reflected back upon that with a smile.

But after a moment her mind returned to the present, and she again smiled and sighed inwardly at the snow, even as she stood there on the Dwarf’s front step, watching it come down in thick fluffy flakes that coated everything in sight, and blanketed the area in a delicious silence. As she watched her breath smoke, she was reminded of other happy times in her past: opening Yule gifts at the end of the year as a child, even during those times before her mother’s death when the family was not often happy; eating warm soup at the Academy’s cafeteria after participating in a campus-wide snowball fight her second year at the Academy; sipping cocoa with Maddie and Vernon in front of the fire and practicing their chorales together for the upcoming Yule concert – or perhaps just sitting with Vernon. She stood there for a few moments longer in idyllic awe, letting the snow drift across the tops of her boots in the barely perceptible breeze, before she smiled once more and brought her mind to the issues at hand. If her sense of propriety had not urged her into action at that moment, the heaviness of the package that she carried certainly would have. Fiona shifted the package in her arms, not daring to put it down even for a moment, and then walked over and used the iron door-knocker on Kane’s front door.

There was no more than a moment’s wait before the door opened to reveal the warm home within. “Fiona, my dear!” said Kane, delighted. “Come in! Come in! Nasty weather to be out for a walk, even for one such as myself.” He helped her out of her cloak and hood as she came in, and was polite enough not to inquire after the parcel she was carrying with her. “I’d heard last night that you’d arrived home safely just the day before. I’d rather hoped you’d come see me.”

Fiona smiled and allowed him to take her cloak and muff for her, and she slipped out of her boots so as not to ruin the Dwarf’s carpets. “Of course I’d come to see you, Master Kane,” she said to him. “After all, we’d have never been able to have the success we’ve had without your help. We owe you a great debt of gratitude.” She glided across the floor and sat down upon the couch, placing the parcel next to her and arranging her skirts over her knees.

“You owe me nothing.” Kane handed her a warm mug of mulled cider, sitting down in his own chair with a mug for himself. He was still blushing a bit from Fiona’s warm greeting, and he very studiously avoided looking at the parcel. “I’m only glad that you were able to succeed in your mission, and to come back to tell me the tale of your doings. I take it that everyone survived unhurt?”

Fiona nodded. “We did take some injuries now and then, but thanks to Mandi’s spells we were able to recover fully.” She sipped her cider, and noted with approval that Kane was a master at blending the spices for the mulling. “I’ve so much to tell you, I hardly know where to start!”

Kane smiled. “Well, what were you able to do? What were you able to see? How was the old city?”

“Well, it was beautiful, but I wish I could have seen it in its full glory,” said Fiona, answering his last question first. “So much wonderful stonework, so many beautiful streets and magnificent buildings, but all in ruins. It was rather clear, unfortunately, that the city came to a rather violent end. Stones still stained with blood, scorched rock and buildings, and evidence of spellcraft in several places.” She described the white powder they had found and brought back with them.

“What was it?” asked Kane.

“I took it to Baldric, and he indicated that portions of some stonework nearby had been the target of a disintegration spell, and the dust was all that remained of it. We want to investigate that a bit more, among other things. But most importantly, I wanted to report to you that we were able to locate the Temple and the secret entrance to the caverns beneath it.” She took a moment to relate how Xenia had found the secret entrance, and then described the tunnels and fell beings they encountered therein. She then described the twelve levers and the manner in which she and Karna had solved their puzzle. “When the stone finished rising, we were presented with a great bounty of treasure.”

“Like what?” asked Kane, and he at once bowed his head and smiled in embarrassment, having realized how forward his question had been. “Forgive me, please,” he said. “It’s a bit of a preoccupation with my race.”

Fiona smiled warmly in reply. “Well, besides some old coin, we found a number of items which proved to be magical. These bracers – ” she pulled up the sleeves of her gown to reveal that she wore the leather items about her forearms, as she was trying to get used to their feeling “– protect the wearer like armor, and Mandi got a magical cloak that provides similar magical protection. We found a collection of six healing potions, which Mandi and I split between us. We also got a pair of scrolls, one that provides its reader with protection from fire for a short while, and the other of which had mage-spells written on it. Idgie took the first scroll, while Karna and I split the second. I got quite lucky with the take, praise the Lady.” Actually, she considered herself even luckier than she immediately told Kane, though he guessed it from the look in her eye, and smiled. The spell-scroll had had five spells inscribed upon it, and although Fiona took but one of these spells, she was more than satisfied with it, so much so that she would have gladly given up her other magical treasures simply for that one spell. It was the phantasmal killer spell, a combat spell so potent and difficult that only those like Fiona who specialized in the school of Illusion could ever hope to hold it within their spell-rings. Those who fell victim to the spell found themselves facing their deepest nightmare made sentient, battling the phantom in a hopeless fight wherein a single blow from the illusion would slay the victim. Fiona was more than a bit frightened at the prospect of killing a human or another one of the Free Peoples with the spell, but know it was likely that she would have to use the spell in the future should her plans ever come into fruition. Yet, still, if that time were to ever come, it would be well into the future, for the ability to cast the spell would be beyond her for quite some time yet. Fiona had worried about that uncomfortable possibility for only a few moments before realizing the necessity of things, thanking Tyche for having delivered the spell into her hands, and settling the matter within her mind.

Kane watched her in her reverie for a moment or two before answering. “The Lady of Luck does seem to hold you in some favor, Miss Faraday,” he said.

Fiona smiled in return, her mind back on current matters. “And she has smiled on your people as well, or so I hope,” she said. “We were lucky enough also to find quite a number of things which we believe are quite clearly of value specifically to your people, and in fulfillment of our bargain I’ve brought these back to return to you and your kindred.” At this, she unwrapped the parcel and took forth from it the first items: a pair of the holy symbols that the group had found in the cemetery, one iron one, and the mithril one that had been used to open the Temple doors. “In fact, I’ve only been able to bring a small portion of the take with me, as it was a bit beyond my ability to carry it all on my person. Here are the first items which we found.” She handed them to Kane. “The rest are in my room for the moment.”

“Ah, yes,” he said, receiving them with trembling hands. “Holy symbols to our Mother the Earth, inscribed with the sigils of our families. This one –” he held up an iron one “– was owned by the Longbeard clan, a family of middling importance in our culture, roughly of the same status of my own family. But this one –” he held up the mithril symbol “– is made of mithril, and it names the Ironhorn family, the family that ruled the settlement at Beleriand from its inception until the end of its days. Are you familiar with this metal?”

Fiona nodded. “We had guessed it was mithril; you are an excellent teacher, Master Kane, and your students did not forget what they had learned!” She smiled at him, and he beamed back. “I should also mention that this symbol allowed us entry to the Temple itself – much to our great relief.” She related the story of the wraith and their ensuing battle with it, putting in the details Karna had related to her about the events she had not seen. “It doesn’t surprise me at all that the Temple would react to the insignia of the royal family.”

Kane nodded. “It is common that such symbols are lain to rest with their makers. It was indeed a blessing that the Temple saved you – may Erda be praised! The gods were indeed smiling upon you during your journey. But you said that the Temple wasn’t ruined, as were the other buildings?”

“No, it was actually pretty much untouched. We were amazed at how well kept it was – it was as if someone had been living there tending to the place for the past two hundred years. We were able to bring back several items from the Temple, including a number of devotional and mass-related items, but the only thing I brought with me that we actually found inside the Temple is this.” With that, Fiona brought out the silvery, heavy woven cloth that they had taken from the Temple’s main altar. “We thought you’d like to have this, too. Is this woven with mithril? We were guessing that the cloth used Dwarven-silver as well, because it’s far too light for the metallic threads to be silver itself.”

Kane did not reply for a moment; he merely sat forward in his chair, holding a small portion of the cloth between his thumb and forefinger, gazing at it with jaw agape. After a few seconds, he looked up to Fiona. “Do you have any idea what this is?” he asked her.

Fiona could only shake her head no. Fiona helped hand it to him as he carefully moved to accept it from her. He sat back in his chair with the cloth on his lap, peering intently at it as he spoke. “This is silvercloth,” he said. “This is one of the highest art-forms of my people, weaving the finest mithril threads with fibers known only to the masters of the craft. Only one Dwarf in each colony bears the knowledge of making this cloth, and only he or she is allowed to participate in its making. We only permit its use in making vestments for the church and the priests of our mother Erda, and in clothing our King. In each such cloth is woven one hair from the beard of each male Dwarf in the colony, but beyond that only the masters know its composition. A cloth such as this would have been the work of but a single Dwarf, and it may have taken as much as two years to make.” He paused for a moment as Fiona took in the enormity of this discovery. “And you said you brought back more than just this one?”

Fiona nodded slowly and seriously, fully aware of the significance of this, and proud to be the bearer of such good fortune. “We were able to bring back three of them from the Temple. We found no others, unfortunately.”

Kane nodded, and gave a short chuckle before turning serious again. “My Lady, you bring me a King’s ransom as a gift. I had deemed you and yours the lucky one in this bargain, but I see now that I am dreadfully mistaken! Are you aware of the value of this one piece of cloth?”

Fiona could only shake her head no again.

Kane sighed and sat back. “On the open market, this could easily fetch twenty thousand gold sovereigns.”

Fiona nearly choked on that figure. That was nearly the value of all the coins they had brought back with them, and the group had found that to be a princely sum indeed. But three such cloths…!

Kane caught the momentary change in Fiona’s expression, subtle as it was. “If that number takes you aback, let it be known that my people would gladly ransom these for five times that much apiece.”

Fiona had regained her composure, and she shook her head. “No, we would not accept even a penny in exchange for these. We made a deal in good faith, and to be perfectly honest, Idgie and I were more than happy with it, believing ourselves to have gotten the much better end of the bargain all told. That it is perhaps the other way around is merely the whim of the Lady of Luck, and we don’t begrudge it. We made out far better than we ever thought we might, and for that we’re grateful and splendidly happy.” She paused for a moment, then gave a half-smile. “Well, at least most of us don’t begrudge it. I can’t speak for Idgie….”

Kane laughed aloud. “Ah, that young lady has upon her the love of things shiny, that’s clear enough.” He continued to smile even as the subject returned to the matter at hand. “But I must say that my kindred and I owe you a great debt. Even if you will not accept a reward from us, you must allow us to make it up to you in the future.”

Fiona beamed. “I’ll be sure to ask for the return favor, then, and honor your promise to me.” Then she turned to the package for a third time. “We also brought back some other items here that I’d like to show you now.” With that, she brought forth the books that the group had procured from the thumb-safe, and outlined how the items were come by. “I actually thought that it would be these that were the most valuable to your people, but perhaps I was mistaken, for I underestimated the value of the silvercloth. Still, I hope that these are of value to you.”

Kane accepted the books and thumbed through them carefully. “Both will be of great interest to our scholars,” he said after a moment. “This one is a financial ledger of the city, noting taxes and trade agreements and the like; and this one is the annals of the city, including a census, down to the last child.”

Fiona smiled in response. “I do have one last item,” she said. She then carefully took out the one remaining item from the bag: the strange disc they had found in the thumb-safe, which had granted each of them a boon when they handled it and spoke its secret. “We found this with the books. Do you know what it is?”

Kane took the disc from her. Yet again he was held speechless for a moment before answering in a reverential tone. “This would be called a Kiss of Erda in your tongue,” he said. “It is a prized magical artifact of my people. This is only one of three that exist, and it too is of great worth; our debt to you is increased yet more. I have never seen one work, nor have more than a very few Dwarves that walk the earth. Legend has it that the Kiss sleeps for five hundred years, but that once it wakes up, it stays awake until one worthy of its gift handles it and speaks its true name. At that point, it grants the holder a gift from the Earth-Mother herself, Erda the most holy. It remains awake, granting gifts to up to seven worthy people in all, until after one hour it falls asleep again for another five centuries.” Kane looked at Fiona. “And you say you were blessed by this device? Given a boon, I believe you said?”

Fiona nodded. “Yes, but we weren’t all sure of what it did to each of us. We all seem to have gotten a different gift, but only Karna, Xenia, and Mandi seem to know what their gifts were: they all were made more physically fit – stronger or quicker. But for Idgie and I, we’re not sure yet. All we have is the feeling that we were given something very, very special.”

Kane nodded in response. “And it sleeps again, to be woken up half an Age from now, when neither you nor I walk these lands any longer.” He sighed. “So, the legends are true after all. That will be of great comfort to my people, although I must warn you that there will be some who are jealous that a non-Dwarf received the gifts of the Kiss. But they shall be persuaded otherwise by those of us who are wiser – those of us who appreciate the priceless gifts you have given to us. This too is an item of great worth, worn about the neck of the King of the colony with the hope that it would awaken to bless him with its gifts. It is a great relief that the thumb-safe was made by a Dwarf wise and capable enough for it to have survived unmolested.”

Fiona nodded, but her brow was now drawn up in a picture of concentration. “The Kiss was worn about the neck of the King of the colony?”

“That’s right. Dain, our king at the Iron Hills, wears one himself. The king of Beleriand at the time – I believe it was Dhurud II – apparently realized his fate and sealed up the Kiss where he thought it would be safest at that moment. If the city were under attack as you implied then this would have been a prudent action to take. If that was indeed the case, he chose its hiding place wisely!”

Fiona nodded. “But it would likely have been around its neck when the attack first came, would it not?”

“Yes, that sounds like a reasonable assumption.”

Fiona sat forward on the couch. “Kane, I believe that I do have a favor I’d like to ask you. May I borrow the Kiss for a day or two? I’ll return it unscathed after that time.”

“By all means you may! You could have easily gone back on your word to us a hundred times already, but you’ve been true every time. But I am curious; please forgive me if I ask what you plan to do with it.”

Fiona smiled. “I’d like to see if I can convince Fisty to do a reading on this object for me. There is a sixth-ring spell called legend lore that I know he can cast; the spell gives information about any item, person, or place of great significance. If the item in question is at hand, the spell can actually give visions of its owners, and images of the important events that occurred during its existence. I want to find out who or what is responsible for the destruction of the city, and this may be the best way to go about that.”

“Sounds like a solid plan. But I know that there are costs involved. Might I offer my kinsmen’s services in that regard?”

Fiona nodded. “Well, there is a 15-thousand sovereign fee…”

“Think nothing of it. The wealthier families from the Iron Hills will be falling over one another volunteering to pay this fee for you. Is there anything else?”

“Well, the spell does require the sacrifice of a magical item, or of several lesser magical items, to power the magics.”

“Done. I’ve several items around here that I’d gladly give you for that purpose.”

Fiona shook her head. “No, since the spell will be cast for me, it has to be an item I own that must be sacrificed. I suppose my set of potions will do.” She realized with some regret that this was the best way she could do things. The loss of the potions might prove vital someday, and she worried about that for a moment. But she immediately realized that it was at least that important to get the information she sought, and she pushed her worries aside.

Kane nodded in resignation. “I am sorry I cannot help further in that regard, then,” he said sadly.

Fiona squeezed his closed hand. “Think nothing of it, Master Kane. It must be done this way.”

Kane nodded again. “Very well, is there anything more I may do for you? Shall I send porters to your quarters to retrieve the goods?”

Fiona, her mind now on to the next stage of planning, nodded. “Yes, but not yet – perhaps after lunch.” She then smiled, an idea dawning. “Hmm…. Now that I mention it, I am rather hungry at that. If it’s not too much to ask, good Sir…?”

Kane got up and bowed to her, and she smiled warmly in return. He walked briskly into the next room, and returned a few moments later with a plate laden with fresh fruits and pastries. He set these down before Fiona, and then left again. She had nibbled just the corner off a cheese danish when he returned with an ewer of wine and a pair of glasses. Fiona was quite pleased with the refreshments, and took a full bite, then had a sip of the wine. Like Roan’s wine was, it was clear and refreshing, and it made the simple luncheon all the more pleasant.

“Now,” said the mage, as she wiped her mouth a few minutes later. “I believe there’s one more thing that I owe you.”

“What might that be? You’ve done so much already….”

Fiona just smiled and sat back in the cushions of the couch, taking an apple in hand. “Well, on our first day out we made rather slow going after getting a wonderful send-off meal from Roan, but during the next few days we made pretty good time before the rain started falling….”

Fiona sat and hummed quietly to herself as she waited, as she had done ever since she was a little girl. She ran through some of the chorales and hymns she had learned when sitting in with the Academy choir the previous night – this one about the defeat of Kali by the gods of the Circle, that one about a drunken man and his wife sharing a festive dinner on the Yule night, and another about Queen Jaia and her midnight quest on the dark eve of the Yule. After a while, Fiona noticed what she was doing, and she grinned to herself. Humming to distract myself from nervousness, no doubt, she thought. She chuckled at herself from her view of the situation, enjoying the meta-game that she was playing with herself, even as she was still quite nervous about the prospect of having this spell cast for her. And she would have quite some time to wait and be nervous, for she was as early now as she always was. She turned back to the comfort of her music and her thoughts, losing herself within them, and she nearly drifted off.

“Good morning, young lady!” Fiona sat up with a bit of a start. There was Fisty, perhaps three or four minutes late, and grinning from ear to ear. He had with himself a small bag made of purple velvet, and he wore a dark violet robe of matching material, with a silvery trim. He looked very important and powerful, thought Fiona. She wondered if his pointed departure from his usual wear was significant.

“Good Morning, Fistandantilus,” she said after catching her breath. “You’re looking well this morning.”

“What, this?” The older wizard took hold of the breast of his robe. “I hate this thing. Not as comfortable as it looks. But the ritual for the spell is very precise and demanding. Now.” He placed the bag on the table opposite of Fiona, the crossed over to her. She grew a tad nervous at his approach, not knowing what he had in mind, but she held her ground wordlessly.

“This will take a few minutes to set up,” he said, “But before I start the spell proper, I’d like to cast another spell, if you’re willing to submit to it.”

“What is it?” Fiona knew that this directness of questioning wouldn’t work with some of the other Council members, but Fisty preferred such directness.

He reached back over the table and took a pair of items from the bag. One of these items was the Kiss, and the other was the collection of potions that was to be sacrificed for the legend lore spell. “Here, hold onto these. Concentrate on the knowledge you desire. This will help drive the spell.” Fiona nodded, after which he continued, answering her question. “I would like to set up a telepathy spell, so that you can see the images put into my mind by this spell. This will not only increase your understanding of what information we get, but it will also allow me a better understanding for myself, as you and I will be able to share some thoughts from time to time as the legend lore progresses.”

“Sounds wonderful,” said Fiona, surprised at the offer. What a treat this would be! Her nervousness doubled, and she fought hard to quell it.

Fisty smiled. “Good,” he said, and went back to his preparations. He set up a candle dipped with a few drops of his own blood, and lit it; he then took out a small pouch of powdered silver, and traced a small pattern of sigils and circles on the table. Fiona recognized the common symbols: it was a magical circle of protection, calling to the twelve gods of the Circle to grant their powers of protection to he who was going to cast this potentially dangerous spell. This took some time and careful concentration. Once the circle was in place, Fisty took the pair of items from Fiona and placed them in the center of the circle, the sacrifice leaning up against the candle, the Kiss sitting closer to where Fisty might take hold of it once the spell started.

Fisty then came over to Fiona’s side of the table. “Ah, good, now,” he said, and he began muttering. Fiona strained to catch the meanings of the syllables and pauses, but she could not understand their music, nor would the syllables allow themselves to be remembered, as it ever was. Half a moment later, there was a rush of sound and feeling within her mind, and she found herself caught willingly within the spell of telepathy.

Relax, came Fisty’s voice. The less you resist, the more you’ll see. The visions will come in a moment.

I understand, she answered, and then went silent, trying to dampen her instinctive resistance, bracing herself for what might come.

Fisty then began the chanting for the second spell, and Fiona could tell, from the sound of his voice in her ears and from the potency and vigor of the spell itself as it touched her mind and drew her in as it was cast, that this was a vastly more potent enchantment than she had even experienced before. The syllables of forgetfulness flowed by and over her, and in a moment’s time, the spell took effect. The candle, which Fiona had not seen the old mage lighting during the casting of the spell, flared up mightily, and then went out, and the room plunged into darkness. Fiona caught sight of the Kiss in the old mage’s hands before the visions came.

Crisp summer afternoon, the subjects hard at work. All is well.

Afternoon council, called suddenly. What is this? A man in a hood; won’t show his face. I don’t trust him, no, by my beard! Will we submit? No, by the spine of the Holy Mother! We’ll keep what’s ours.

Then you too shall pass.

Swirls and darkness.

Yammering and gibbering out in the Commons. What is this?

Fire! Flee! They have come for us! To the Temple! I must hide the Kiss.

The man with no face again, his hood drawn close. Fire and lightning rippling from his fingertips. A great, vast beast with red eyes. Fire and blood. Our city is dying! Erda save us!

Falling to the ground, trampled by several feet before being found. Carried delicately to the town hall, placed in the safe. Darkness.

What shall become of my people?

The visions faded. Fiona shook her head and regained her own sight. She noticed that Fisty looked ragged and disheveled. The candle had vanished with the sacrifice. The Kiss lay unscathed in the center of the table. Fiona’s heart was racing and she was out of breath.

Did you see it? came Fisty’s voice. I tried asking you a question, but you did not respond.

I am sorry; I did not hear you, she replied, calming a bit. Yes, I did see it.

Did you see its face?

No. Only the eyes of the thing that was with it. Red. Bloody. Evil.

My same impression. Good eye, lass.

“What was that?” asked Fiona, now speaking with her own voice. She felt the mental link between herself and the old mage drop as he broke that spell.

“I’ve no idea,” he responded. “I’ve seen nothing like it myself. I could make guesses, but they’d be stabs in the dark. No sense my worrying you with such tales.”

Fiona nodded. “Do you think that we were seeing the actual destruction of the place?”

“Well, what do you think?”

Fiona only nodded. Fisty mimicked the gesture in response. “Yup, that’s the way the spell works,” he said. “Only sometimes the answers you get ask more questions than they answer!” He sighed and got up out of his chair, came halfway around the table, and sat down on the table just outside the circle of protection. “And I’ve got my interest piqued now. I want to find out a few more answers.” He made a face, as if trying to recall something important that was refusing to come to mind. “I only wish Beldin hadn’t vanished,” he muttered. “There’s something I should ask him, but I’m not sure what.” He brightened again, and turned back to Fiona. “Meanwhile, could you let me borrow that trinket for a bit more? I’d like to contact some outer sources for more information about this.”

Fiona knew at once what he meant by contacting “outer sources”: he was going to delve into some outer plane of existence to seek for the answer to a question by mystical means, contacting creatures unknown in a risk of mind and spirit. Fiona shuddered: such a spell was a serious risk. “Won’t that require another sacrifice?” she asked.

Fisty nodded. “Yes, but this time I can pay gold, and I’ve plenty of that, so you’ve naught to worry. And it’s me who wants to know the answer this time, in any event. But of course I’ll share it with you.” He smiled. “This should be fun.”

Fiona had been a bit taken aback by his very serious tone, this dear old man whom she had admired from her earliest days at the Academy, whom she had known as much for his bright demeanor as for his position of power and respect. She was only slightly comforted by the brightening of his tone and his last comment. “Won’t that be risky? Won’t it be better for a priest to cast a spell of divination?”

He nodded. “Our own spells are riskier, but stronger therein,” he said. “You may want to speak to a priest anyway. But the spell I can cast will give me the answers I want, and will give me better information.” He sighed. “I’ve got to start preparing now for tomorrow. But I’ve some time before then, I think. May I treat you to lunch?”

Fiona smiled in response.

Fiona thought she had seen large human beings before, but Uvf, the giant of a man who stood before her, dwarfed even Roan. He shook Fiona’s hand after Mandi introduced him to the mage, and the Fiona at once perceived the vast strength that lay in his enormous hands. Only Xenia’s iron grip could compare to this; but even then, Xenia always kept her strength in tight check, showing it only when she had to. Uvf seemed more than content to demonstrate the strength of his grip on Fiona’s own small hand, shaking it forcefully, stopping just shy of bringing pain. But when he released her hand and smiled broadly at her, Fiona could sense at once that this great mountain of a man was little more than a pussycat beneath all the furs he wore.

“So, Mistress,” he said, using a manner of voice and inflection that marked him as coming from the south, perhaps from Ouluska. His timbre was wide and booming. “Mandragora here tells me that the lot of you are soon off to Arcadia.”

Fiona nodded and looked about her as much as she dared as Uvf led the two of them through the halls of the vast Church of Donnor. There was a marked contrast between this place and the churches she had attended when younger: whereas the places of worship she was used to tended to be small and homey, this place was vast and outdoorsy, built of wood and stone instead of the brick and mortar that Fiona was used to. The place almost seemed like a hunting-lodge, or a man’s club of sorts. Yet about a quarter of the priests and acolytes within the place were women, who seemed quite at ease with the feel of the temple. The place was lit by sooty candles instead of lamps or lightstones, adding to the foreign feel of it. There was even a pig being roasted on a fire in one of the wings of the church – in a cooking-pit that was there, no less! People gathered around it and drank from large mugs of ale, and sang devotional songs of an almost whimsical nature.

“Yes, Sir,” she responded. “Mandi has apprised you of the situation, yes?” After he nodded, she continued. “After I asked Fistandantilus to cast the legend lore spell for me, he took it upon himself to cast the contact extraplanar denizen spell to attain more information. Yesterday he got hold of me and told me that all he was told by his contact was the name Arcadia. We are supposedly to find our answers there.”

Uvf nodded, and waggled his beard a bit in thought. “Have you ever heard tell of the place?” he asked.

Fiona shook her head. “No, Sir. My cousin Shirl and my auntie used to tell me tales of the place to scare me as a child, but I never took any of them to have any ring of truth, once I became an adult.” Indeed, the island of Arcadia, which lay just a mile north of the tip of the Wharf in the sea east of Sarakkhis, was a place long deserted, and the number of local legends about it that kept people away from the place was simply staggering. It was infested with rat-men, some people said. Many others claimed it was possessed by spirits or demons – in fact, the place was labeled “the haunted isle” on many maps of the region. And there were other stories, many of which Fiona could barely recall hearing, of all other shapes and sizes. And there was but a single thing that all the legends agreed about: Arcadia was a dangerous place.

Uvf nodded in response to Fiona’s words. “All the better reason to come to me for aid, Mistress Faraday. Our church may be known for its valor in battle, and its unwillingness to retreat from the Enemy, but in truth we are a cautious lot, given to planning and strategy before we make war. You are wise. You do my protégé and myself both well in your coming to us.”

Fiona looked over at Mandi, who only beamed back at her. Fiona smiled warmly in return. “I am the one who is honored,” she said automatically. “We shall owe you too a great debt for this service you are giving us.”

Uvf stopped just as he placed his hand on a doorknob to open it. “Look, lass,” he said, dropping the formality. “A piece of advice to you from one who has been in your shoes before. Don’t ever get too hung up on paying back all the debts you feel you owe to your teachers and your superiors for all the favors they do you at this point in your career. Pay us back only if you can, and don’t worry about it otherwise. Even better, pay someone young like yourself, when they come to you for help in the future, and the reward you’ll get will far outstrip what you’ll have paid for it.”

He opened the door and stepped into the room beyond. It was a sort of saferoom like they had back at the Academy labs, but instead of being fortified against magic, this place was especially sanctified to the lord of the skies, and guarded against all evil. It had rough wooden tables and almost rustic decorations, thick wooden posts reinforced with metal bands for its walls, great high ceilings, and ceremonial spears and swords decorating the walls. The single window in the room was high up on the far wall, and its upper pane was of stained glass, depicting the pivotal scene of the God-War that ended the First Age millennia ago: Donnor wrestling the pain-goddess Kali to the ground, and the other deities binding her in unbreakable chains. The seats, although wooden like the table around which they sat, were surprisingly comfortable, and allowed one to sit back and gaze skyward should one be taken with the notion. Fiona edged herself into a position close enough to the edge of the table to indicate respect, but not so close as to display too much eagerness, and then settled comfortably into the seat. She could feel a marked presence within the place, one that she couldn’t quite put a finger on. It seemed as if something was forever watching her; it had tested her when she had stepped into the room, and had (almost begrudgingly) allowed her entrance. She knew that no act of violence could be committed here, nor any spell cast, without the permission of whatever it was that held this room safe.

“So,” said Uvf. He had taken his place across the table from the two young women. “What other preparations have you made for this possible assault on Arcadia?”

Fiona certainly would not have chosen the word “assault”, favoring instead the word “outing”, or perhaps “investigation”. In any event, Fiona turned to Mandi, who was handling much of these arrangements.

“Well, we’re not thinking that things will be particularly dangerous there,” said the priestess. She spoke with the even, matter-of-fact tone of an experienced soldier. “We spoke yesterday with a fisherman called Gustavus who is known to occasionally do some fishing by the island. He reports hearing nothing at all from the island – nothing, not even birds or squirrels. He says he’s been there several times, but nothing has ever harassed him there. He even offered to hire his boat to us when we go.”

Uvf nodded. “Who will be going with you, and when?”

“We’re not sure, Master,” said Mandi. “Karna will be in training with his master at the Academy once he completes his two weeks’ training with the Militia, and so he won’t likely be done until nearly the Yule. The rest of us should be done by then. Also, Kane received word from his people that they were sending one of their own to aid us in our search of the island, and then to return to his homeland with the bounty we brought back for his people, once the search is completed.”

“So, a mage, a thief, a priest of Donnor, a Ranger, and a dwarf? Did they say if the Dwarf was a priest or no?”

“Kane didn’t speak of it.”

Uvf nodded. “Well enough,” he said. “Do you have your questions ready for me? Perhaps you’ll have to amend your plans once we know the answers to them.”

Mandi nodded. “Fiona will do the asking,” she said. “She knows the most about the matter, and I trust her judgment in this.” Fiona smiled inwardly at the compliment, and it raised her esteem for the young priestess yet higher in her mind. If Fiona were not concentrating so tightly upon the questions that she wanted to ask, she perhaps would have chuckled at the twinges of jealousy she had felt towards Mandi when they had begun journeying together, now long since left behind.

“Good,” said Uvf, voicing his approval with the plans as well as using the word for transition to the next stage of things. “I have the spell within my rings, and in a moment I’ll begin the casting. Do you have any questions before we begin?”

Fiona thought for a moment before responding. “What sort of questions may we ask, again?”

“Any questions you like, but the only ones that will be responded to will be ones that can be answered yes or no. You get nine of them. Don’t waste any, lest ye anger the gods!” Uvf smiled, letting Fiona know that the warning, while serious, was not as dire as his words might have indicated. Fiona nodded nervously, and drew in her breath in an attempt to focus her mind a bit more. Uvf nodded in return, and rose to his feet.

The casting of a priest-spell in some ways was very different from casting a mage-spell. While both priests and mages with spellcasting ability had spell-rings carved within their minds, and both sorts of magic had some limitations to what they could do, and could be augmented or annulled by the same effects, that was pretty much where the similarities ended. A priest’s rings were carved by her god, while a mage’s rings were carved by Ehvenor and/or herself (no-one was quite sure which of the theories was true). The syllables of a mage’s spell had an impenetrable, impossible-to-remember cast to them, spoken in words understood by none save the caster, whereas a priest’s spell was spoken in Common, and while one might be able to memorize the words of a priest’s spell-chant, nothing would happen unless a deity had pressed the spells into one’s ring-slots. A mage carefully prepared her spells ahead of time, casting all but the final few triggers for the spell and storing the potential release of the magic within a spell-slot (or draped over the ring in the manner of specialist mages) in her mind, but a priest simply prayed for the spells, meditating and praying until her god was satisfied and placed their potential within her rings. Fiona knew these differences well, and had been traveling with priests since the very beginnings of her adventuring days, but still she had to admit that it was odd to hear a spell being cast using words in the Common tongue.

Uvf started the spell by circling the room, chanting devotions to his god, most of them spoken under his breath so that Fiona could not make them out. He then took one of the spears from off the wall and continued to chant, now and then making gestures with the spear, or genuflecting, or raising his arms to the sky. After a few minutes of this, he lit some incense, and opened the high window a crack to let the smoke from the incense drift out into the open sky. “My dearest Lord and Master,” he intoned, “Great Lord Donnor of the Sky that we so adore, see that we have made this place safe, and that you have made it holy by your command, and that it is held firm against all evils. See that your beloved children desire your help through your wisdom; we ask that you grant me the knowledge that we seek. For we are engaged in a great war against evil, and we must have our prayers answered should we find success in our conquest.”

With that, the presence that Fiona felt within the room gave a sudden surge. She suppressed the urge to flee, and clenched her fists to gird herself. Suddenly Mandi reached over and grasped Fiona’s hand; the young priestess’s eyes were locked upon her Master, and she seemed to be experiencing something rapturous, something immense and powerful that Fiona could sense the edges of but not quite feel herself. Fiona held onto Mandi’s hand in return, swallowing the question of her own need for the comforting as she helped steady her friend.

Uvf’s head rolled back for a moment, and the surge within the room grew stronger. All sound seemed to vanish. Then Uvf brought his head forward again, and when he turned to the women, Fiona nearly leapt out of her seat. For the presence that she felt singing within the room was now shining in his eyes.

“Ask!” he said in a voice that was laced with a presence that was not quite his own. “Be not hasty, but take not overlong, for the gods admire care and wisdom, but not inaction! Speak when you wish.”

Fiona was too startled to speak for a second, but she snapped out of it before Mandi did. Fiona gave Mandi’s hand a short squeeze, bringing the priestess’s attention to the matter at hand, then gathered herself and started asking her questions.

“The two creatures I saw in the vision, were they the only ones involved in the destruction of Beleriand?”

Uvf’s voice rumbled out the answer. “NO.”

Fiona nodded. “Were they then the leaders, the main proponents of the action?”

“YES.”

“Is the red fire-breathing creature still alive?”

“YES.”

“Is the cloaked man still alive?”

Uvf paused and seemed to give that some thought. “I cannot answer the question truthfully without misleading you.”

Fiona nodded, and thought hard. What could have been wrong with that question? Hm, perhaps he’s in stasis, neither alive nor dead? Or, perhaps, he’s… undead? Maybe he’s not even a he. I must conserve my questions.

“Does this robed figure still exist in a context where it can directly cause harm to us?”

“YES.”

Fiona thought about that for several minutes, wondering what exactly she could ask that might clear that up. But such is the nature of these binary questions that she knew that she could not ascertain anything more useful about that matter with the remaining four questions, so she merely pushed onwards.

“Is the robed figure on/in/under, possibly dwelling or possibly not, on Arcadia at this time?”

“YES.”

“Same question, but for the fire-breathing creature.”

“NO.”

Fiona was immediately taken by an idea for her eighth question. “Is the fire-breather even in our plane of existence at the moment?”

“NO.”

Fiona gave a start, while Mandi simply started at her, a bit of surprised look on her face (Fiona could not tell whether the surprise was from the question or the answer, or both). This meant that the thing had the ability to plane-shift, to move into other realms of existence, even the outer planes where demons and devils and other such evil creatures – as well as impossibly beautiful creatures of pure good – made their home and ruled without restraint. On one hand, this meant that perhaps the fire-breather was not going to pay attention to Fiona and her companions at the moment, as perhaps its attention was elsewhere on less trivial matters. But on the other hand, the raw power of this thing might be so great that there would be no hope of fighting it if it were to move against them. Fiona shuddered and then pushed the thought aside.

They had one more question left. Fiona turned to Mandi, who still had the somewhat surprised look on her face. “Any idea what we should ask?” said Fiona.

Mandi shook her head no, her face resuming its customary expression. “We’ve had pretty much everything answered that we wanted answered.”

Fiona nodded, an idea for the last question forming within her mind. “Can we ask questions about how things will go should we go over there?”

Mandi shook her head. “That’s outside Donnor’s realm: it’s within the realm of Koh.”

Fiona winced a bit at the mention of that name. Mandi noted it, and squeezed the mage’s hand gently before continuing. (Fiona drew little if any comfort from the gesture.) “My Lord might tell us whether we have favorable or unfavorable chances,” she said, “But he cannot tell us anything concrete about the future. Thus it is told us by the gods. If we ask a question about the future, even if we ask it carefully, it may go unanswered, and we’ll have lost our last question, and my Master will not be able to cast the spell again until well after the Yule, as this intrusion of ours upon our Lord is strictly limited.” A worried expression creased her brow.

Fiona nodded. She was lost in thought for just a moment before she asked her ninth and final question. “Is Gustavus to be trusted in the offer we might make with him to hire his ship?”

“YES.”

Fiona turned to Mandi, even as Uvf was coming down out of his religious ecstasy. “I figured we may as well cement one thing in place for ourselves,” she said. “This gives us one less thing to worry about.” Then the two women stood and went to tend to Uvf, as the commune spell he had just cast was very draining. Mandi disappeared for a moment while Fiona stood there with her hand upon the big man’s shoulder, and he muttered a bit under his breath about having a splitting headache. Mandi returned a moment later with a large tankard of beer, and a knowing smile on her face. She winked at Fiona, who smiled in response. Mandi wordlessly placed the beer within easy reach of her master, and within a few seconds his hand went to the tankard, took it up, and then he poured the beer down his throat in one mighty gulp. He sighed with great gusto.

“Well!” he said, quickly recovering from the spell’s effects. “That was fun.” He smiled widely at them, the usual mischievous spark having returned to his eyes. “Learned a pretty bit of information, too. I hope you and your group will use it to your best advantage. But for now” – he turned directly to Fiona, continuing to smile. “When can I have that steak dinner you fine ladies promised to cook for me, hm? I’m starved!”