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         +-+--+-+--+-+     VOLUME TEN                    NUMBER TWO 
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         |           |      BITNET Fantasy-Science Fiction Fanzine
      ___|___________|___  X-Edited by 'Orny' Liscomb <CSDAVE@MAINE> 

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                                CONTENTS
            X-Editorial                          'Orny' Liscomb
           *Treasure 4                            John L. White 

          Date: 020688                               Dist: 527
          An "*" indicates story is part of the Dargon Project 
          All original materials  copyrighted by the author(s)
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                              X-Editorial 
    Greetings,  all. This  issue  is dedicated  to  the conclusion  of 
John White's "Treasure" series. This  epic series of stories  began in
the summer  of 1986 with John's  first Je'en story, "A  New Life", and
continued  with  several other  tales,  leading  up to  the  four-part
concluding tale  "The Treasure". The "Treasure"  stories have appeared 
in issues  Vol07N5, Vol08N2, Vol09N2,  and concludes here  in Vol10N2.
I  definitely suggest  that  anyone who  isn't up  to  date on  John's
works go  back and request  the back issues.  I would like  to express
my thanks  to John  for contributing this  huge collection  to FSFnet, 
and my hopes that he will continue to produce fiction for FSFnet. 
    As you may  notice, this is a particularly large  issue of FSFnet, 
however  it was  necessary that  I  fit the  conclusion of  "Treasure"
into one  issue. For our  new readers, this  is most definitely  not a 
typical  issue.  This  will  be  the  last  issue of  FSFnet  entirely
dedicated to  one story,  and all future  issues will  contain several 
shorter installments rather  than one large one. And those  of you who 
have kept up with the Je'en storyline are in for quite a treat! 
                    -'Orny' Liscomb  <CSDAVE@MAINE> 

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                              The Treasure 
                                 Part 4

                             Tandi's Quest 
    Tanandra wearily  folded her "acquired" bedroll  after yet another 
night without sleep.  The rising sun provided  enough illumination for 
her to  prepare a  meager meal  - the rations  she had  acquired along
with her  bedding were  nearly gone. She  sat facing  south-east while 
she  ate, looking  deeper into  rising foothills.  Her goal  was near, 
somewhere  among those  hills. That  was part  of the  reason she  had 
been sleepless  for the past  six nights: the nervousness  of actually 
facing someone  with enough power  to delve  into the Forbidden  Art -
the magics  that could bring  the semblance of  life to a  corpse. The
other reason was  the brand in her  mind that led her to  this place -
the magic  of the  gorfodd that  had been intended  for Cefn,  but now 
forced her  ever onwards. She would  have quit this insane  course had
she been able, but the geas wouldn't let her. 
    The  brand flared  briefly and  somewhat painfully  and Tanandra's 
confidence tried  to slip  even lower.  The normally  constant burning 
throb that  led her  to her goal  would at times  flare into  a higher
intensity. Something about  the magic that created the  brand told her
that each  flare indicated an increase  of the ability of  the one she 
pursued.  She fervently  hoped  she reached  that  person soon,  since
what  little  power she  had  of  her own  was  fast  being eroded  by 
sleepless nights and exhausting travel. 

    Little more  than three hours  had passed  when Tandi was  led off 
the  game trail  she had  been following.  So weary  was she  that she
didn't even realize the  change until she came to a  narrow crack in a
sheer hillside. The  brand urged her to follow it,  and she was barely 
able to  comply by  turning sideways,  inhaling deeply,  and squeezing 
painfully at times through.
    She came  out of the  narrow way into  a very dreary  tiny valley.
She knew she  had reached her destination for two  reasons. First, the 
brand was  now flaring so  brightly in her mind  that she was  sure it 
could  be seen  behind her  eyes.  And second,  the demi-castle  built
into  the far  wall of  the valley  could only  belong to  a reclusive
person  - perfect  for  someone who  would dare  to  venture into  the 
Forbidden Art.
    Adrenalin   pushed  back   her  fatigue,   and  she   dropped  her
no-longer- needed  pack behind  a rock then  worked her  way carefully
closer to  the walls of  the castle. It  had not been  constructed for
defense, and  looking around, Tandi could  see why: there was  no easy 
way into  the valley. Each  side of the dell  was sheer and  high and,
unless there were  any other small cracks like the  one she had pushed
through,  they  were  unbroken.  No  armed force  of  any  size  could
penetrate to threaten those walls. 
    The gate  was at  least 10 yards  wide and half  as high.  A tall,
thin tower  rose to  either side,  too thin to  actually house  even a
single  sentry.  Carved in  fanciful  runes  over  the lintel  of  the
gateway was  the name "Aahashtra". One  of the pair of  doors was open
halfway as  if in  invitation. Behind the  almost ornamental  wall was
the castle  itself, or at  least as much of  it as wasn't  carved into 
the  hill  that  rose  behind  it. The  builder  had  taken  the  only 
non-sheer wall  of the valley and  had integrated the castle  into the 
rolls  and folds  of the  rising  hill. Towers  sprouted from  several
points along  the box-like main building,  as well as from  odd points
along  the hill.  Shorter turrets  and balconies  filled up  more wall 
and  hill  spaces,  and  in  places  the  hillside  was  augmented  by 
out-thrusting rooms.  It looked like  a mad-man's maze, and  Tandi was
(for once) glad of the brand that would show her the way through it.
    Drawing all  of her strength  together, she cast upon  herself her 
best spell  - that  of maximum  non-detection. She  was very  proud of
the spell, which  was less exhausting than full  invisibility but more 
complex. Of course,  it was also not as effective  as invisibility: it
simply  placed about  the  subject an  aura  of unnoticeability  which 
could  deflect all  but the  most  intensely directed  search. It  was
perfect for  moving through  crowded streets  (if someone  bumped into
you while  you were  non-detected, they might  curse or  apologize and
then forget about you) or slipping past even the most alert guards. 
    As she neared  the gate - the  only way she could see  to get into 
the castle  without more help  than she could  summon - she  grew ever 
more uneasy. She  could feel her own power-reserves  draining far more 
rapidly than  they should and  she could only  hope that she  would be
able to maintain  her spell long enough to reach  and stop her target. 
How  she  intended   to  stop  him  she  wasn't  sure,   but  she  was 
unconsciously  fingering  her belt  knife  as  she slipped  along  the
outer wall.
    She  reached the  edge of  the  open gate,  and peered  cautiously
through into the  courtyard. It seemed empty so,  still nervous, Tandi 
made  a dash  for the  castle's main  door. As  she crossed  the sandy 
pavement  of the  courtyard she  felt a  tingle run  through her.  She 
wondered briefly  about an  alarm of  some kind,  but she  was certain 
her  spell  could  divert  the  abilities of  any  alarm,  magical  or
otherwise,  she had  ever heard  of. (She  was partially  right -  the
alarm rigged  in the  courtyard was  almost fooled.  But the  owner of
Aahashtra had  devised his own type  of alarm and it  was like nothing
Tandi had ever  seen before. It didn't quite detect  her presence, but
it was able to warn the reclusive conjurer that something was wrong.) 
    She should  have been warned by  the fact that the  front door was
unbarred. Even  in the wilderness, secluded  in a tiny valley,  it was
suspicious  to leave  one's  front door  unprotected, especially  when 
the gate was also  open. But Tandi had other things  on her mind, like 
sustaining her  spell (which was  growing harder and harder),  and the
distraction  of the  brand almost  pulling her  toward her  target, so
she didn't  even notice the  easy access  she gained into  the castle. 
And that was her downfall.
    Her  non-detect  spell was  useful  against  trap-doors and  other 
such devices,  but it  couldn't do  a thing  about a  simple illusion. 
So,  when the  brand led  Tandi across  the large  reception hall  and
down the only  corridor that led off it, she  was delivered right into 
one of  the simplest  traps that the  owner of Aahashtra  had set  - a
pit  covered by  the illusion  of a  floor. The  fall wasn't  far, but
Tandi hit her head as she went down, and was knocked unconscious.

    She awoke strapped  to a table in a laboratory.  The gorfodd brand
burned in  her mind with  a painful  intensity and she  struggled with 
her bonds as it  goaded her to eliminate the source  of that pain. She 
heard  sounds around  her, voices  talking and  chanting, but  she was 
too concerned  with the driving geas  to take the time  to concentrate
on what was being said. 
    And then the pain  was gone. As if it had  never been, leaving not 
even  the memory  of  it to  torment her.  She  felt the  cancellation
spell fade  away around her,  and looked up at  the one who  had freed
her from the gorfodd.
    The man standing  before the vertical table was known  to her. The
Elders had  been right.  The experimenter into  the Forbidden  Art was 
Roharvardenul,  once a  pupil along  with Cefn  and herself.  But Vard 
had always  been a troublemaker,  and a duel  between Cefn and  Vard -
an  activity  proscribed  by  the  masters -  had  gotten  the  latter
evicted  from  the  college.  It was  his  specialization  in  control 
magics  that had  earned Vard  the mistrust  of all  in the  college -
such knowledge could  only be used for ill, and  the masters had tried 
to discourage  Vard from his research  into that avenue of  magic. But 
the  man had  disobeyed, vowing  to  become the  most powerful  wizard 
ever when he was forced from Tarenha Isle.
    "And  what brings  little Tanandra  into my  demesne, hmm?"  asked
Vard.  "I don't  think you  need to  answer," he  continued. "I  could 
tell  from the  parameters of  the spell  I just  cancelled. You  have
come to  stop me from learning  the Forbidden Art. How  noble. How did 
the Council manage  to rope you into this? I  recognized the magics of 
several  of  my old  foes  in  the gorfodd  you  bore  - it  was  very
powerful. But  it was  also the  most formidable  magic you  have ever
borne, not that you  could actually use it, and now  its gone. How did 
they think that a compulsion would help you defeat me? Fools! 
    "Actually, they've  helped me  more than  they could  imagine. I'm
almost  ready to  move into  the  final stages  of my  research and  I
actually need  some help for  this. Come and let  me show you  how far 
I've gotten." 
    Vard turned  and walked  over to  the far  side of  the laboratory 
and  the table  Tandi was  fastened to  followed. She  wondered if  it
were  being pushed  by someone  she couldn't  see, or  if it  moved by
magic. Her senses  were so ravaged by her recent  ordeal that the fact
that she couldn't  detect any magic about the table  didn't mean there 
wasn't any. 
    Vard stopped  in an  area cleared  of all but  a book-stand  and a 
low pedastal. The table  jockeyed itself up next to him  in such a way 
as to allow Tandi  full view of both objects. On  the book-stand was a 
large, iron  (or was that  lead?) bound  tome with red  leather covers 
and spidery black  lettering. And on the pedastal was  a lump of black
crystal  that had  a sickly-glowing  purple  core. The  sight of  that 
lump made her  almost violently ill and she was  deathly afraid of its
purpose, knowing the legends of the Forbidden Art. 
    Vard gestured proudly  and said, "Behold, the  first mivorn amulet
to exist since Ciraledwen the Great!" 
    Tandi  winced  to hear  that  evil  Elder  given such  an  exalted
title. What she had  feared was true - that lump of  black stone was a 
mivorn   amulet,  used   to  sustain   the  undead   creations  of   a
practitioner  of  the Forbidden  Art  by  draining the  life-force  of 
those  fused to  it.  And she  began  to realize  just  what Vard  had 
planed for her. 
    "It has  taken me  long to  create this  amulet," Vard  said, "and 
long to attune  myself to it once  created. But now I am  ready to put
it to  its fullest use,  and for  that I need  a source. You,  my dear
Tanandra, are  to be my  source. I don't  intend to use  the Forbidden
Art  for conquest,  at least  not  at the  moment,  but I  do need  to 
resurrect someone  to further my  world-conquest plans and  you should 
last more  than long enough to  see me to  that end. Now, to  link you 
to the amulet..."
    He opened  the book and flipped  through the pages until  he found 
what he was  looking for. Reading from  the page he had  turned to, he 
began to  chant in a language  that hurt Tandi's ears  even though she 
couldn't understand  a word  of it.  A sick feeling  began to  grow in
her stomach as  she tried to summon  to her aid any magic  at all. But 
either from  something Vard had  done or plain and  simple exhaustion, 
she couldn't  find even the  barest trickle of  power to fuel  the few 
and simple  spells she  could think  of. She  was trapped  and nothing
could save her from Vard's schemes.
    The  chant  rose to  a  harsh  peak,  and  Vard reached  down  for 
Tandi's  arm. He  released its  bond with  the flick  of a  finger and
pulled her  arm, palm first,  toward the  amulet. The mivorn  began to 
glow a  brighter and slimier purple  as Vard continued to  chant. With 
a three  syllable invocation, Vard  pressed Tandi's palm  hard against
the crystal.  Immediatly, she  felt a  shard of  the amulet  break off 
the mass  and burrow like  something alive  into her flesh.  It burned 
worse than the  gorfodd brand had for a few  moments, then it stopped.
Vard  released her  hand  and  began to  wind  down  the chant.  Tandi
looked at her  palm and wasn't surprised  to see in its  center a lump 
of the  black crystal.  She could  feel its  presence within  her hand
and arm,  and she tried to  pry it out  like she would a  splinter but 
it  wouldn't budge.  Vard  glanced  over at  her  when  his spell  was
finished  and laughed  at her  antics. He  said, "It  cannot be  pried
from your  body, little  one. I  could withdraw it,  and I  might when
I'm through with  you if there's anything  of you left. So  be nice to 
me or I'll use  you all up!" Vard's mocking laugh rang  in her ears as
she continued to try  to rid herself of that black  crystal tap on her 
very lifeforce.

                              Je'en's Task 
    Je'lanthra'en made her  way from Dargon Castle with  no trouble at 
all. The  guards she had  drugged would  sleep for several  hours yet,
and she had  a few of the  sleep-balls left in case she  met anyone in
the upper  levels of  the castle. But  she made it  out of  the castle
and across the causeway with not a single encounter. 
    Her horse  was where  she had left  it, already  fully provisioned
for  a  long  journey.  She   secured  her  treasure-pouch  among  the
saddlebags,  mounted,  and rode  away  from  Dargon, heedless  of  the
lateness of the  hour. She had a mission to  complete and she couldn't 
put it off. 
    Once she was  miles away from Dargon and any  hope of capture, the 
compulsion set on  her by that presence  in her mind eased  up and she
was able to think  again. And for the first time  since the attack she 
realized just who  had been on the other end  of that sword. Inwardly, 
she cursed  and wept  for her  cousin Ka'en,  whom she  believed dead.
She didn't stop  to wonder what he  was doing in the  vaults, she just 
railed  against the  presence  in  her mind  that  had  forced her  to 
silence the person who had discovered her theft.
    There was,  at that time,  enough left of  Je'en free in  her mind 
to do  that. But just a  few days later  the mental hold was  so tight
on  her that  she had  no thought  but unswerving  loyalty toward  her 
master.  She rode  swiftly,  taking only  the  minimum rest  necessary
each night before  continuing on in her mission. This  way she made it
to  those same  foothills in  far less  time than  it had  taken Tandi 
even accounting for her horse. 
    She abandoned  the animal  when she  came to  the crack.  She knew 
the  words that  would widen  it so  that she  didn't have  to squeeze 
through as had  Tandi. She walked boldly into the  valley, through the 
open gate  labeled Aahashtra, and  across the courtyard which  had its 
alarm turned  off temporarily since the  owner knew that Je'en  was on
her way.  She passed  through the  front door  and the  reception hall
but ignored  the only hallway evident.  Instead, she went to  the wall 
bearing a  mosaic of  a hunting  scene and  pressed the  downed stag's 
eye. The  whole mural  swung back,  admitting her  to the  interior of 
the castle.
    With  knowledge so  automatic it  seemed her  own, Je'en  threaded
her way along  the maze that was  Aahashtra and to the  rooms that the 
owner  called his  own.  Before  she got  there,  however, new  orders 
arrived  and she  changed direction.  Back down,  over, up,  then down
again, and  she came  to the  laboratory. She walked  over to  the man
standing by  a book stand, knelt,  and offered him the  only thing she 
had taken off  her horse when she  freed it - the  sack containing the 
treasure from the crypt beneath Dargon Castle. 
    "Ah, my slave,  you have arrived," said Vard. "Just  in time, too. 
I have been  so anxious to try out  my new source that I  was ready to
rob a  grave for a subject.  But here you  are with the things  I need 
to conquer  the world. And  I can start  with this skull  right here." 
He had  emptied the bag onto  the bookstand and, ignoring  the key and 
the map,  he was  holding up  the skull as  if it  was some  long lost 
friend. "You  may stand over there,  Je'en, while I prepare  to revive
this poor man trapped so long ago by his master." 
    Je'en  obeyed, and  took the  opportunity  to look  around at  the 
lab. The only comparison  she had was to Cefn's lab,  and this one was
both larger and  more impressive. But it was evident  that most of the
recent activity  there had been in  the corner with the  bookstand and
the pedastal that bore some kind of ugly, evil stone on it. 
    Vard had  removed the  extraneous objects  from the  bookstand and
was leafing  through the pages. He  had just found the  right one when 
a  small man  came in  leading  a woman  by  a chain  attached to  her 
waist.  She didn't  look  well -  she was  thin  unto gauntness,  with 
circles under  her eyes and  stringy hair  that might be  quite pretty 
if washed  and combed.  Her tunic  and pants  seemed made  for someone
three sizes larger,  and they were dirty and torn.  She was constantly
rubbing at  something on her  right palm, paying attention  to nothing
else around her. 
    Vard looked  up and  saw the  woman, and  smiled evilly.  He said, 
"Ah, Tanandra, finally I have a use for you. Take your place, please." 
    The  woman   listlessly  stood  between  the   bookstand  and  the 
pedastal, then  sank into a  cross-legged sitting position,  her right 
hand open and palm  up on her knee. Je'en could see  the lump of black 
crystal  that pulsed  there in  time to  the purple  light within  the 
ugly rock on the pedastal. 
    Vard said, "Qrun,  take this skull and place it  on the floor next 
to Tanandra.  Then you may go."  The small man complied,  then left by
the door he  had come in by.  Looking around to make sure  he had done 
everything necessary, Vard took a satisfied breath and began to chant. 
    Je'en had been  with Cefn while he cast his  magics, but never had
he used so  painful a language to listen to.  Je'en shivered where she 
stood  and  would  have  followed  the small  man  out  had  she  been 
permitted.  But  Vard had  given  no  such  order,  so she  was  stuck
watching and listening. 
    The rock began  to glow brighter and to pulse  in rhythm to Vard's 
chant.  Tanandra's hand  clenched  around  the rock  in  her palm  but
didn't obscure  it. She began  to grimace as  well when a  thin purple 
thread  crept from  the  small stone  toward the  skull.  At the  same
time,  a much  larger lance  of purple  light was  connecting the  big
crystal to the skull.  When the two lines met the  skull, it too began
to glow.  Vard's chant  grew in  volume, and  to Je'en's  horror flesh 
began to form  over the skull. She watched as,  with increasing speed, 
the skull she had taken from Dargon was restored to the body of a man!

                             Ka'en's Search
    It took  Ka'lochra'en far less time  to lose his patience  than it
did the  glacier-calm Cefn. So it  was that Ka'en had  been pacing and 
fretting  for   more  than   a  week  when   Cefn  finally   lost  it.
Unfortunately  for  most  passersby,  when  Cefn  lost  his  patience,
people noticed!
    Ever  since  the day  Je'en  had  disappeared after  robbing  some 
hidden  crypt within  the secret  vault beneath  Dargon Castle,  Ka'en 
had followed  the mage around  as they both  tried to fathom  what had
happened to  her and where  she was. Ka'en's  first urge, to  ride out 
and follow her,  was put aside by  Cefn. He had said that  Je'en had a 
long  head  start  on  them,  and could  be  anywhere  in  almost  any
direction by  then. His first action  had been to return  to his house 
and play cards. 
    Actually,  Ka'en   knew  foretelling  cards  when   he  saw  them, 
although he  had never seen a  set like the  one Cefn used. He  got to 
know  them well,  however,  because  the mage  spent  the whole  night 
using them,  all to no  effect. All  Cefn would say  was, "Something's 
blocking them.  The twelve of swords,  Je'en, is crossed by  the Prime 
of  Staves  every   time.  Beyond  that,  there  is   no  pattern,  no 
similarity in any of the layouts I do. I cannot reach her with these."
    So  they had  tried every  method of  divination available  within 
the   precincts   of   Dargon.  Every   palm-reader,   every   amateur 
card-layer, bone-spiller,  and tea-dregs-diviner in the  city. Not one
could tell them  anything. Only one in  six had the true  gift, a fact 
that Cefn  made sure to ascertain  quickly. He never stinted  with the 
money they  demanded, but he knew  when he was getting  truth and when
the fortune-teller was just giving them air.
    It took  a week  and more  to visit  all of  those who  promised a
reading of the  future that existed in  Dargon. It was at  the last of 
these that  Cefn lost his  temper. It was  in a dock-side  tavern that
both Cefn  and Ka'en met with  the palmist. Ka'en had  sensed that the 
man was  a fake  from the  first, but as  usual, Cefn  gave the  man a 
whole gold crown to read his palm. 
    The thin,  shifty-eyed man  across the table  from them  looked at 
the crown  as if it  were a dead fish,  although Ka'en was  sure there
was a  glint of  avarice deep  in his tiny  eyes. With  a pass  of his
hand, the gold  piece vanished; a simple  prestidigitator's trick that
might impress  some, but not  a real mage like  Cefn, or a  real thief
like Ka'en.  Besides, thought  Ka'en, I  could do  it better  and with 
more coins.
    The palm reader  took Cefn's left hand and peered  intently at the
deeply creased palm.  He studied it for several  minutes, muttering to 
himself  and  tracing the  various  lines,  folds and  creases  there.
Finally  he  straightened  up,  took  a  deep  breath,  and  began  to 
propound on what he had seen of Cefn's life in his palm.
    Ka'en listened  wearily to  what he had  heard many  times before. 
Very  little  of it  was  true,  but  there  were several  schools  of
palmistry,  and those  with similar  training saw  the same  things in
the same  palm, true or not.  Ka'en thought very little  of palmistry, 
and very little of divinations, but Cefn believed and he was paying.
    The  thin  man  had  finished describing  Cefn's  past  life,  his 
character  and his  intelligence,  and began  to  answer the  question
that the mage  had asked. He used  a different part of  Cefn's palm to
illustrate the  recent departure of  a dear  one. He pointed  to three 
tiny lines crossing  what he called the 'relationship  line' and said, 
"These indicate that  the one you have lost has  run away with another
man. I can see  herein that your loss is deep, but  I cannot see where
your loved  one has  gone - his  life is no  longer reflected  in your 
palm.  My advice  is  to  forget him  and  concern  yourself with  new 
relationships." The palmist  leered sideways at Ka'en,  who reacted to 
the insult  by reaching  for his  knife. But  Cefn reacted  faster and 
far more violently. 
    The  mage  stood and  easily  pushed  the  heavy table  away  from 
himself,  pinning the  palmist in  his  chair. When  he spoke,  Cefn's
voice was so  full of anger that  even Ka'en backed away  a pace. "How 
dare you  tell me  such lies!  The one I  am searching  for was  not a 
man, and  she left with  no one! You and  your kind will  say anything
for a  copper." Cefn was  gripping the  table with glowing  hands, and 
Ka'en thought  he could detect a  bit of smoke curling  up from around 
them.  He  also  noticed  that  there were  little  flashes  of  light 
beginning  to show  through  Cefn's robe.  The  mage continued,  "I've 
been all over this  city and all I've gotten from the  likes of you is
fanciful  tales  of kidnapping,  or  runaway  lovers, or  visits  from
gods. I'm  sick and tired  of lies! People  like you should  be banned 
from the city limits for deluding innocent truth-seekers!"
    Cefn  lifted  his right  hand  from  the  table  to point  at  the 
palmist, leaving  a charred handprint  behind. His hands  were glowing 
brightly, the  flashes beneath  his robe  were growing  more frequent, 
and  Ka'en thought  he  could detect  a faint  haze  rippling the  air
around the  mage. Ka'en  tried to  draw Cefn's  attention to  what was 
happening, but the mage was too caught up in his anger to listen.
    Cefn continued,  "All I want is  the answer to a  simple question.
I don't  care why  she left,  I don't  care what  caused her  to steal
those  things. I  just want  to know  WHERE JE'EN  IS!" With  the last 
word,  he slammed  his  fist down  on  the center  of  the table  with 
cataclysmic results.

    The fire  burned down the  bar, and a  good portion of  the wharf. 
No one was  injured - the rantings  of the wizard had  cleared the bar
of all  other patrons,  and the  two people with  the wizard  had been
rescued by him  shortly after the fire began. The  ships moored at the
wharf  had cast  off  from the  dock and  had  survived unharmed.  The
bucket  brigades formed  hadn't been  able to  save the  bar, but  the 
supplies sitting  out for  on- or off-loading  had been  swiftly moved
into a  nearby warehouse. A  fire break  and constant watch  had saved 
the warehouse and contained the fire to just the immediate area. 
    There had  been no mistaking the  wizard who had started  the fire 
-  a  man  who  always  wore   an  unnaturally  dark  cowl  is  easily
recognized. So  when the captain of  the City Guard arrived  at Cefn's
door, he  found the entry hall  filled with chests, each  chest filled
with  gold and  gems. The  restitution was  readily accepted  and both 
Cefn and Ka'en avoided prison.
    Ka'en sat with  Cefn in the taproom of the  Panther later that day
trying to  figure out what  to do next. He  was just about  to suggest 
that they try  to track Je'en out  of the city along  a week-old trail 
when a  young boy walked  in the door. He  stood looking around  for a 
moment, then hurried over to the table where Ka'en and Cefn sat.
    "Are  you Wizard  Kevin?" the  child asked.  Cefn nodded,  and the
child handed  him a  folded piece  of paper sealed  with red  and blue 
wax. He said, "An  old lady asked me to deliver this  to you. She said 
to  meet her  tomorrow  after  sunset in  the  first traveller's  rest
clearing along  the west coastal road.  She said that the  paper would
convince you to come." 
    Ka'en watched Cefn  break the wax seal and open  the folded paper. 
He either  took a long  time reading it, or  he was disturbed  by what 
it  said because  he just  sat  there seeming  to stare  at it  (Ka'en
couldn't tell  which - it  could be difficult to  be teamed up  with a 
man whose  face you  couldn't see!).  When he  realized that  the mage 
wouldn't  be replying  to the  child, Ka'en  said, "When  did you  get
this paper, son?" 
    "Yesterday, 'fore  nooning, in the market.  She gave it to  me and 
told who to give  it to and what to say. Said 'do  it tomorrow to give
me time to prepare'."
    "Does  'meet  tomorrow' mean  today,  since  you got  the  message 
yesterday?" Ka'en  was worried  that they  would miss  the appointment 
as sunset was  in an hour or  so and the first traveler's  rest was at
least half a day's ride away. 
    "Naw,  don't worry.  The old  woman, she  said, 'say  just what  I 
tell  you to,  and assure  them that  I mean  for us  to meet  the day 
after next'."  The child beamed and  stayed right where he  was. Ka'en 
realized  that  the urchin  was  hoping  for  a little  something  for
delivering  his message  so well.  Smiling  because he  knew that  the
child had  surely been already  paid by  the old woman,  Ka'en reached
into his belt-pouch  and withdrew his coin purse. He  fished around in
it and came out with the smallest coin he possessed.
    The child took  the coin, gulping when he recognized  it. He said,
"Thank you, good sirs.  And luck to you, too." Then  he turned and ran
out of  the room  in case  the over-generous  Ka'en should  change his 
mind.  Still smiling,  Ka'en turned  to Cefn  and asked,  "So, are  we 
going to meet with this woman tomorrow or not?"
    Startled out  of his reverie,  Cefn said,  "Um, yes. Yes,  I think
we  should see  her.  We'll  set out  before  noon  tomorrow. See  you
then."  He rose  and  left, leaving  the paper  on  the table.  Ka'en,
curious, picked it  up and read it.  It was filled with  words, but he
could understand only  the few at the  top of the page.  They said, "I 
know of the one  you seek, and if you agree to meet  me I think that I 
can find her  for you. Below is some information  that should convince 
you I am  of the Gifted." There followed the  strange words that Ka'en 
couldn't puzzle out, and the note was signed "Madame Zeefra".

    They set out  after noon the next day, but  they still reached the
travellers'  rest area  almost an  hour  before sundown.  They set  up 
camp and waited for the gypsy to arrive.
    Shortly  after sunset,  a brightly  painted wagon  was drawn  into
the clearing by a  pair of very black horses. The  driver of the wagon 
was  a  middle-aged man  dressed  in  the  manner Cefn  recognized  as
belonging to the Rhydd  Pobl. He knew it was unusual  for one of those 
roaming people to  be this far north  so late in the  season, but here 
he was.
    The  man  on the  wagon  paid  no  attention  to the  two  already 
occupying  the  clearing, but  went  about  feeding and  watering  his 
horses,  situating  the  wagon  just   so  within  the  clearing,  and 
starting a  large fire next  to it (ignoring  the fact that  Ka'en had 
already started  a modest  blaze near  their own  tents). By  the time 
the gypsy's camp was  fully set up, it was full  dark, and Ka'en began
to  wonder if  the wagon  truly  held this  Madame Zeefra,  or if  the
gypsy just happened to be passing through. 
    The  man went  into the  wagon  for a  moment, and  came back  out 
carrying a bow  and a quiver. He vanished into  the forest quietly and
quickly, and Ka'en wondered if all gypsies arrow-hunted by night.
    When  the man  was  gone,  a light  sprang  up  within the  wagon,
showing  through the  curtained  window  in its  side.  Both Cefn  and
Ka'en  rose from  where they  had been  sitting and  went over  to the
wagon. Ka'en  knocked on the  door over  the tailgate and  called out, 
"Madame Zeefra?"
    The  door  opened,  revealing  the  perfect  picture  of  a  gypsy
fortune  teller,  metalic, be-coined  headdress  and  all. She  didn't
look at  all old  to Ka'en,  just weathered  and experienced.  Kind of 
pretty, too.  She said, "You  are the wizard  Cefn, and you  the thief
Ka'lochra'en. Come inside and  we will  see if we  can find  your lost 
Je'lanthra'en." 
    Shaken to the  core by the woman's naming him  thief, Ka'en warily
followed Cefn into  the wagon. It, too, presented  the perfect picture 
of such a  place - small, but  with enough room for the  three of them 
to  be comfortable,  cluttered with  odd, mystical  things as  well as 
the everyday  necessities of  life. Ka'en  wondered what  relation the
wagon-driver had to the woman, and if they both slept back here.
    Zeefra settled  herself behind  a table,  throwing her  very black 
hair  off her  shawl-covered shoulders  with  a gesture  that set  her 
multiple  bracelets  clinking  musically.   She  spread  her  beringed 
fingers on the ivory tablecloth and said, "Give me your hand, mage." 
    Hesitantly, Cefn offered  her his hand palm up,  and Ka'en tensed, 
fearing a  repeat of the day  before. But Zeefra turned  his hand over
and closed  it between  her two,  then closed her  eyes as  if seeking
something that lay within her. 
    She said,  "It is as  I sensed. The one  you seek, this  Je'en, is
beset by  strong forces.  She is  not herself,  and is  thus protected 
from most  scrying and divination  methods. That  is why you  have had 
no success within the city in finding her.
    "However,  there  are  ways  older  than  anyone  in  Dargon  even
remembers. But  my people keep  our heritage  alive, and we  have ways
both simpler and more powerful than many others." 
    She  released Cefn's  hands  and reached  beneath  the table.  She
brought out a  bowl filled with sand, and a  smaller, cut crystal bowl
that  was empty.  Reaching again,  she produced  a roll  of very  thin
parchment.  With one  of her  rings, she  cut a  square from  the roll 
large enough to cover the tabletop.
    She  turned to  Ka'en  and said,  "You are  blood  to this  Je'en, 
right?  Give me  your left  hand." Ka'en  extended the  indicated hand 
and was  suprised by the  power of her  grip. She briefly  clasped his
hand as  she had  Cefn's, eyes  closed, then  'humphing' in  a pleased
manner, she used  the same sharp ring  to slice a long  cut across his 
palm.  He cried  out and  tried  to pull  away, but  he couldn't  free 
himself. She  held his  hand over  the crystal bowl  and let  it bleed 
freely therein. When  a small pool of blood covered  the bottom of the
bowl, she placed an  odd smelling pad of cloth over  the wound she had
created  and closed  his  fist around  it  to hold  it  in place.  She
released his  hand then, and  began sifting  sand from the  large bowl
into  the smaller  one, slowly  filling it.  Ka'en, spooked,  sat back 
nursing his  hand and watched  as she lifted  the small bowl  with one
hand, and  stirred the contents with  the other until the  sand turned 
a pale shade of pink, crooning softly the while.
    When the blood  was thoroughly mixed with the sand,  she poured it 
out into  her hand,  the entirety  of the  bowl fitting  neatly within 
her  single palm  without spilling  even a  single grain.  Setting the 
crystal aside, she  cupped the sand in both hands  and held them above 
the  square of  parchment  and  began to  sing  louder, spreading  her
fingers to let the sand through.
    Only, at  first it  didn't fall.  Ka'en thought  that it  might be
caked by  the blood  even though  it didn't really  seem wet.  It just
wasn't ready  to leak  out. As  the gypsy's  song continued,  the sand 
began to  seep out, slowly at  first and then faster  and faster. Even
though the  woman's hands didn't move  at all, the sand  scattered all 
over the  whole square, forming  lines and  patterns and two  words in
simple  and ancient  runes that  Ka'en knew  because his  first master 
had used them  to pass secret messages to his  charges. The first word
spelled  out  Je'en  as  nearly  as it  could.  The  second  word  was 
'keseth', but that word had no meaning to Ka'en.
    By the  time the sand  had all  fallen, the parchment  was covered 
with sand. Zeefra  looked at the patterns, pointing to  the words with
satisfaction  but disapointed  with  the overall  layout. She  finally 
said, "It did  not work as well  as I had hoped. The  patterns say she 
is to the  south and east, but  not how far, nor  exactly where within
that  general direction.  Parts of  this pattern  seem blurred,  as if
the tie just wasn't strong enough."
    She looked  first at Ka'en, and  then at Cefn. Finally,  she said, 
"We'll just  have to  try again. I'm  not sure that  this will  be any
better but  perhaps your ties to  this Je'en are stronger  than blood, 
Cefn."  She  picked  up  the   square  of  parchment  and  poured  the 
once-again-white sand  off it into  a bucket  on the floor.  Ka'en saw
that the parchment  had somehow leached the blood out  of the sand and
into it,  preserving the pattern  of the  sand on the  cleared square. 
Setting  this first  square aside,  Zeefra cut  another, placed  it on 
the table, and then took Cefn's left hand. 
    As the  mage bled  into the  small bowl, Ka'en  looked at  his own 
palm which  had stopped hurting  sometime during the  sand-casting. He 
was astonished  to see  that nothing  remained of the  wound at  all -
the  pad of  cloth Zeefra  had  put on  it had  healed it  completely, 
without even a scar.
    He returned  his attention to the  old woman to find  her stirring 
sand  that was  turning blue.  Ka'en  looked strangely  at Cefn,  then 
went back to watching the 'casting. 
    It went  as before,  although the patterns  were different  - much 
different. Four words  were spelled out in runes, and  a very detailed
map occupied  the center of  the square. The  lines of the  map glowed
with  a pale  blue light  when the  sand was  brushed off,  and Zeefra
seemed well pleased. 
    She said, "Excellent!  These four words first -  Je'en, as before; 
the strange  word 'keseth' as before;  and the new words  'ugurth' and 
'Vard'. And the  map. Just what you will need.  It indicates right now 
exactly  where Je'en  is and  where  she is  going." On  the map,  she 
pointed to  two dots glowing  slightly brighter  than the rest  of the 
markings. One  was moving along  a road, and  the other was  set among 
some hills.  "But, it is  more than just a  marker for Je'en.  Take it 
up, Cefn.  It will  show you exactly  what route you  need to  take to
reach her." Cefn lifted  the map, and the lines changed  into a map of 
the area around  Dargon. The west coast road was  highlighted, as well 
as the Central  road that led back  to the center of  Baranur. "With a 
thought,  you can  turn it  back to  Je'en to  monitor your  positions
relative  to  each  other.  This  is the  most  powerful  use  of  the 
sand-magic  possible, and  I  have  only ever  heard  of it  happening
before. You must be favored by the gods to be given such a talisman." 
    Both Ka'en  and Cefn  thanked the gypsy  profusely. Cefn  tried to
get her to accept  gold as payment for her help, but  she said, "No, I
did not aid  you for a reward.  I helped you because my  gift urged me 
to, and  to take a reward  for that which  came freely to me  would be 
wrong. Go,  and know that  just your thanks are  enough for me  - more 
than enough. Why now  my name will be passed down  with all the others 
for having created a sand-map!" 
    Ka'en and Cefn  retired to their tents and  fell immediatly asleep 
as if drained  by the evening's activity. The next  morning, the wagon 
was gone  without a trace.  As Ka'en ate  his morning meal  he watched
Cefn  study the  sand-map.  And he  wondered if  they  would be  quick
enough to save  Je'en from whatever drew  her on - the  moving dot was 
very close to the one in the hills.

                             Vard's Travels 
    It  wasn't easy  communicating with  the dead,  as Vard  found out 
very quickly.  The Forbidden  Art hadn't  been created  as a  means of 
gathering  information: it  was  obvious that  the Fretheodan  wizards
had had another, better means of resurrection at their disposal. 
    It took  most of two  days for  Vard to learn  how to get  what he 
needed  out of  the re-animated  skull. It  took another  day to  make
sure that  the skull knew  everything he needed  it to know,  which it 
did.  It remembered  each and  every trap  from the  mine adit  to the
door of  the final  vault wherein  was sealed  the Yrmenweald.  Now it 
just  remained for  Vard to  discover a  way to  get across  the ocean 
without taking the  weeks it would to  go by boat, not  to mention the 
time it  would take to get  TO a boat  to begin the journey.  With the
Keseth  so close  to his  grasp, Vard  was far  too impatient  to wait 
that long.
    The  solution  came from  an  unexpected  source and  unwittingly,
too.  Vard  was musing  on  how  to  proceed  after getting  the  last
details of  the location of the  mine from the skull,  and Tandi, much
wearied  after being  drained  yet  again to  revive  the skull,  said
flippantly, "Why don't you just fly there?"
    Ignoring  the  sarcastic   tone  in  her  voice,   Vard  took  the 
suggestion  seriously.  Fly. Of  course,  how  simple. But  how?  Grow 
wings  on everyone?  He  had no  such magic,  at  least none  powerful 
enough  to  carry  him,  Tandi   and  Je'en  across  the  ocean.  Then 
something else must  fly and carry them. What? First  he thought of an
artifact. Did  he have  a flying  machine in his  vaults? He  had Qrun
check even  though he  was pretty  sure that he  didn't. The  box kite
that Qrun  returned with didn't  amuse Vard much,  but he let  it pass
for  the moment.  So, not  a machine.  Then, an  animal. A  bird. What
bird  was large  enough to  carry  three human  beings and  a load  of 
luggage? A  rukh? They were  said to have  existed once, but  Vard had
never seen  one, nor  had he heard  recent reports of  one. So,  not a
rukh. But an idea struck him. Myths of large flying animals. A dragon! 
    Vard  had no  idea where  to  procure a  live dragon  even if  any
still  existed which  he  doubted. But  he  remembered purchasing  the 
skull of  one of those  giant flying lizards  ages ago, and  he could,
with his  new-found skills,  bring the skull  to almost-life  and have 
it carry him across the ocean.
    While  he searched  his treasure  vaults for  the skull,  Qrun and
Eirul  made preparations  for the  journey so  that by  the time  Vard 
found the skull  everything was ready to go. Vard  didn't know how the 
effort to  reanimate such a  large creature would effect  Tanandra and
he  didn't want  her giving  out while  they were  over the  ocean. He 
intended to load  the dragon and be  away just as soon as  it was once 
again 'alive'.
    It  took  everyone's efforts,  including  Tanandra's,  to get  the
huge skull  out to the  courtyard -  it was twice  the size of  a man, 
after  all. Once  it was  in position  and all  of the  provisions had
been  brought out  along with  the  mivorn amulet  and the  bookstand, 
Vard  began. Tanandra  had  been strapped  to a  chair  since she  had 
rebelled at the  idea of being used  to fuel the rebirth  of a dragon. 
Je'en and  the servants stood  by the  castle's front door,  well away 
from the powerful magic that would bring the lizard back to life.
    The purple  lines of light met  in the dragon skull,  and it began 
to glow  faintly. Vard's  chanting continued,  the light  kept pouring 
into  the skull,  but for  the longest  time, nothing  happened. Then,
slowly results  began to show.  Just patches  of scaly skin  at first,
then a  great cat-like  eye was  restored. A  ghostly skeleton  of the 
rest  of  the   body  began  to  appear,  filling   the  courtyard  to 
overflowing. No  one noticed it when  Tandi began to scream  in mortal 
agony,  so  enthralled  were  they  by the  emerging  majesty  of  the
dragon.  No one  noticed  that, as  the dragon  drew  closer to  life,
Tandi was drawing closer to death. 

                             Cefn's Journey 
    Very    swift    horses,   line-of-sight    teleportation    hops,
body-sustaining spells  and day-and-night  riding -  Cefn used  all of
the tricks  he could come  up with to  speed Ka'en and  himself toward
Je'en, but  it just  wasn't fast  enough. The  sand-map showed  them a 
day from  Je'en who  had been  at her destination  for three  days. He 
and  Ka'en  were  studying  the  map when  the  dot  representing  her 
suddenly shot  at an  incredible speed  right off  the page.  Cefn was
trying to  re-orient the map  to her when  a deep crashing  sound like 
thunder echoed  out of the hills.  It rolled swiftly towards  them and
past, leaving them  both shaken a bit. Cefn wondered  if the sound had 
anything  to do  with Je'en's  means  of travel  away from  them -  it 
certainly hadn't  behaved like  thunder, and there  wasn't a  cloud in 
the sky either. 
    Cefn recovered himself  and switched the sand-map's  focus. He was
suprised  to see  that  the map  redrew  itself in  the  shape of  the
better part  of the continents  of Cherisk  and Duurom. He  could make 
out the  location of Magnus, the  Darst range, and Dargon  on Cherisk, 
but he didn't  know the names of  any of the features  of Duurom, only 
that it had  once been the seat  of the Fretheod Empire.  The speck of
light moved across  Cherisk at a speed that Cefn  could barely imagine 
even  from his  guess of  the  scale of  the  map. It  tended east  by 
north,  and another  glowing dot  at  the very  edge of  what the  map
showed of  Duurom seemed  to be the  moving speck's  destination. Cefn
began to despair  - there was absolutely no way  he could imagine that 
he could reach such a far away place in less than months!
    He communicated his  deductions to Ka'en and he agreed  to push on
to Je'en's  first destination in  hopes that there would  be something
there  to  help  them.  Cefn  applied  yet  another  sustaining  spell
knowing that  their bodies had already  passed the safe limit  of such
over-extension.  They mounted  up and  rode, following  the re-focused 
map into the hills.

    If  not  for  the  versatility  of  the  sand-map,  Cefn  probably
wouldn't have  ever found the nearly  hidden way into the  valley that 
held Aahashtra.  Fortunately, it  was able to  magnify its  scale once
he and  Ka'en were close  enough to Je'en's original  destination, and 
with some careful study the tiny crack was found. 
    Cefn   had  been   expecting  Aahashtra,   actually.  The   second 
sand-casting Madame Zeefra  had done had come up with  the name 'Vard' 
and the rune  'ugurth' and the connection was too  clear. Ugurth was a
word  that meant  'undeath' and  linked Vard,  his old  foe, with  the
mission that had  brought Tanandra to him. He also  knew that Vard was
very adept  at controlling magics,  which answered some  very puzzling 
questions about  Je'en. It  was odd that  both quests,  Tanandra's and 
his own, had  Vard as their targets.  He knew that Vard  had named his 
hidden castle  after the  stronghold of  the man  that had  caused the
Council of Elders  to be formed. What he hadn't  expected was its look 
of total  lifelessness. It was  nearing dusk,  but not a  single torch
nor lamp shone - the entire castle was dark.
    Cefn  reached  into  his  pouch  and  withdrew  a  magic-sensitive
device. He used it  to scan the area between them  and the outer walls 
of  the castle  and  found  nothing but  a  faint background  reading.
Motioning Ka'en to  follow him, he crossed the open  space in front of
the walls as quickly as possible, halting beside the open gate.
    He  scanned the  area  between  the gate  and  the castle's  front 
door.  His  magic-sensing  device  picked up  a  very  strong  reading
across the  entire courtyard,  right up  to the edge  of the  gate. He
could guess that it  was some kind of alarm spell -  at least that was 
what he might have used in the same situation. 
    "Doesn't  look  like  anyone's  home, eh?"  said  Ka'en,  who  was 
crouching behind Cefn  wondering what was going on.  Cefn said, "Looks
aren't truth,  especially when  there's a  wizard involved.  Take this
empty courtyard  for example. It's  actually one huge  intruder alarm,
and we have to cross it to get any further." 
    "Can you  break the  spell -  you know,  cancel it  out so  we can 
cross undetected?" 
    Cefn thought  about the  suggestion. It wasn't  one he  would have
thought of, but then,  he knew more than Ka'en about  magic and how it 
worked. He  cataloged what was in  his belt pouch, and  made sure that
he didn't  have the tools  with him to  decode and reverse  the spell.
His  pouch was  much  larger within  than without,  but  it wasn't  of 
infinite size so  he had to choose carefully what  implements to carry 
and all-purpose  spell-breaking tools were  fairly bulky. He  said, "I 
don't have  the equipment  to do that,  but I do  have another  way to 
get across. How is your sense of balance?" 
    He had  fished out of his  pouch an L-shaped piece  of white stone
and he  placed the shorter  arm to the  ground, aiming the  longer arm 
at the  front door  of the  castle. He  began chanting  the activation
magic and  felt the short arm  anchor itself into the  ground. When it 
was secure,  the long arm  began to  glow brighter and  brighter until
finally a bolt  of light shot from  it and struck the  step before the
door, leaving  a trail of light  behind it forming a  bridge less than
an inch wide across the trapped courtyard. 
    He didn't wait  for Ka'en to ask questions, but  stepped up on the 
light bridge  and paced  lightly and swiftly  across. When  he reached
the door, he  turned to see that Ka'en had  followed close behind him,
walking as  nimbly as he  had done. When his  partner was with  him on 
the doorstep,  only slightly  shaken, Cefn bent  down and  touched the 
bridge, cancelling the spell with a word.
    Ka'en  had tried  the door  and found  it open  before Cefn  could
check  for further  traps. Fortunately,  there didn't  seem to  be any 
and he  followed the thief  into Aahashtra.  The entry hall  was huge, 
with highly decorated  walls and only one corridor leading  off of it.
Ka'en was already  striding towards it, and Cefn  shouted, "Wait! Come 
back here." 
    When Ka'en  had returned to his  side, Cefn said, "Now  look, this 
castle  belongs to  a very  powerful  and devious  wizard named  Vard.
Among other  things, this  means we  do not  just go  wandering around
aimlessly. There  are bound to  be traps galore  in here. Let  me lead
the way, and  don't get impatient -  it could take time to  be sure we
are  going   in  the  right   direction.  Now,  that   corridor  looks
suspicious,  but  its the  only  obvious  way.  Let  us check  it  for 
magical traps first...." 

    It  was close  to dawn  by the  time they  reached the  laboratory
that had  seen Vard reanimate  the ancient Fretheodan. Both  Ka'en and 
Cefn were exhausted  from the trials of winding their  way through the
halls of Vard's  crazy castle, and Cefn's belt pouch  was half as full 
as it had been at the start of the adventure.
    Sounds  from  the  room  ahead  had alerted  the  pair  that  they
weren't alone  in the  castle. The  light from the  room had  led them
there,  and Cefn  hoped to  get some  answers from  the person  in the
room. He edged  up to the doorway,  Ka'en on the opposite  side of the 
corridor and  doing the same. He  peeked cautiously into the  room and
saw  a  short  man  sweeping  the   floor  of  what  seemed  to  be  a 
laboratory. The  room was very  well lit,  and Cefn didn't  think that
anything  but speed  would catch  the man.  However, Ka'en  was making
motions of  sneeking in and capturing  the fellow, so he  signaled the 
thief to go ahead and try.
    Cefn  was amazed  at how  easily Ka'en  was able  to use  benches, 
tables, and  the few  small shadows  to hide  his progress  across the 
lab. At times  Cefn lost sight of  him, and only found  him again when
whatever he  was hiding behind  exposed him to  the back of  the room. 
Ka'en  got  nearer and  nearer,  until  finally,  when the  small  man
turned  around to  rearrange a  low table  of equipment,  Ka'en leaped
out and tackled him to the floor. 
    The small man  was no match for  the young thief, and  by the time
Cefn  crossed to  the  two, the  man was  firmly  trapped beneath  the
weight  of Ka'en  sitting  on his  chest, pinning  his  arms with  his 
knees. The knife at his throat further encouraged immobility. 
    Cefn hunkered  down next  to the pair  and said,  "Greetings, good 
sir. Could  you tell us  whether Master Vard is  at home, and  if he's 
not, where he has gone?" 
    "He is not  here. That I can  tell you, as you  probably know that
already.  Anything more  I  dare not  let you  know.  My master  would 
punnish me severely if I did."
    "Then we  will have  to use  other means."  Cefn reached  into his 
pouch again  and withdrew a  tiny slate-colored stone ring.  He placed
it on  the man's temple  and twisted it a  bit so that  the serrations
on its side bit  slightly into the skin there, causing  the man to cry
out at  the sudden  pain. Cefn said,  "I'm sorry to  have to  use this
device  - it  isn't subtle  in forcing  the truth  out and  will cause
pain in doing  so. But my friend  and I have neither the  time nor the
patience to  worm the truth  from you -  we must have  answers quickly 
and accurately. Now, tell us where Vard has gone and why!"

    The  device worked  wonders, although  Cefn wasn't  proud of  that
fact. The  little man was  in much pain by  the time Cefn  had learned
all he needed  to know about Vard's recent  experiments with cwicustan
and mivorn, his  probings into the Forbidden Art, what  he had done to
the two  women he  had ensnared,  and what he  intended on  Duurom. He 
offered  sanctuary to  the servant,  who said  his name  was Qrun,  in
return for  the information he  had given.  When he learned  that Qrun
had a wife  also in Vard's employ  - they were his only  servants - he 
extended  his offer  to  both of  them.  He then  had  only one  small
problem remaining: how to follow him across continents and oceans?
    Ka'en's  suggestion was  the  only  idea he  had.  After Cefn  had 
teleported Qrun and  his equally small wife, Eirul, back  to his house 
in Dargon,  the thief  had suggested that  they simply  teleport after
Vard.  It had  taken several  minutes to  explain to  Ka'en that  such
random  teleportation was  almost impossible.  The person  casting the
spell had  to have exacting knowledge  of the site he  was teleporting
to in order for  the spell to have any chance of  success. He had been
able  to teleport  to  his house  because he  knew  exactly where  his
destination was. There was almost no way to do the same now.
    It was  several hours before  Ka'en picked  up on the  'almost' in
Cefn's answer.  In the  meantime, they had  wrestled with  the problem 
from every angle  they could think of without coming  up with anything 
even  remotely feasable.  Then Ka'en  said,  "Wait. What  do you  mean 
'almost no way'. 'Almost' isn't 'none'. What don't you want to admit?" 
    Cefn wearily  said, "There is  one very unsecure method  of moving 
from  here to  there in  less  than a  month or  more without  knowing 
exacting  physical details  -  planar  travel. But  I  cannot take  my 
physical body into the required plane, so it is useless to us."
    "But you  could go there  and learn what  you need to  teleport us
there, couldn't you?"
    "Well, probably.  It should  be possible to  descend to  the first 
order for  a long  enough time  to get  my bearings.  But I  need rest
first. We both do - we cannot live on boosting magic for much longer."
    "Check the  map first,"  said Ka'en. "If  Vard's undead  dragon is 
far enough from  its destination, then we'll take a  little nap." Cefn
unrolled the  parchment of the sand-map  and focused it on  Je'en. The 
swiftmoving dot  that was Vard and  his dragon was nearing  the Duurom
coastline. A  hasty estimation guaged  the wizard less than  two hours 
from the  hidden mine. Ka'en  said, "We don't  have time to  rest now.
One more  sustaining spell  won't kill  us, not  right away  at least.
Better get busy finding out how to teleport us to that mine."

    Cefn hated  what most  people called astral-projection.  The third 
order  of form  was a  chaotic place  where corporeal  matter couldn't
exist, but  mental energy  was virtually unlimited  in any  way. There 
was still  distance to  be covered  between the  place where  his body
lay in Aahashtra  being watched over by Ka'en, and  where Vard and his 
dragon would  land on Duurom  in less than an  hour. But if  he wasn't 
disturbed he  would be able  to get there and  back in plenty  of time 
for  Ka'en and  himself  to  be there  waiting  to  ambush the  undead 
dragon before it landed.
    So  he sent  his astral-self  speeding toward  Duurom. He  watched 
with a  slightly disorienting  omni-vision as the  roiling, cloud-like
nothing passed by on  all sides at once and sped  away behind him with 
only a  silver cord linking  him to  his unconscious body.  Every once 
in  a  while, he  noticed  little  islands of  pseudo-reality,  places 
created  by  mental energy  as  places  of  rest  for those  with  the
education and ability  to do so. He had thought  about doing such, but 
he  didn't even  really  like the  astral plane  so  the figured  that 
trying to rest on it wouldn't be very restful.
    He sensed  he had reached  his destination and stopped  his mental
motion.  Then, concentrating  fiercely, he  projected his  astral body
down  to the  first order  of  form, what  passed for  most people  as
'reality'. He  arrived at the mouth  of the unsused mine  and tried to 
collect  the information  he would  need to  successfully teleport  to
this  location.  It  wasn't  easy  in  his  non-corporeal  state,  but 
eventually he  had the coordinates firmly  in mind and he  let himself
succumb to the slight  tug of the silver cord trying  to drag him back 
to his body. 
    He was  about halfway back to  Aahashtra, well over the  ocean and 
nearing where  Cherisk's shore  would be  on the  first order  when he
heard a  sound. It was a  soft, seductive chiming sound,  startling in
both its  beauty and  its impossibility.  Such things  shouldn't exist
on  the  third  order  - supposedly  they  couldn't.  Intrigued,  Cefn 
followed the  sound, becoming  more and  more bound  up in  the lovely 
chiming that grew louder and louder without hurting his mental ears. 
    The source  of the sound  was utterly  unfamiliar to Cefn  who had 
studied  much  but not  everything.  There  on  an island  of  reality
amidst  chaos sat  a beautiful  woman  playing a  three-racked set  of 
what  looked like  glass wind-chimes  save that  she was  hitting them
with  feathers  to  evoke  their  chiming  sound.  The  woman  was  in
three-quarter profile  to Cefn  and he couldn't  tell whether  she was 
clothed  or not  because  of  her long,  golden  hair draped  artfully
around her body like a cloak.
    There  was no  melody to  what she  played, just  sound, beautiful
sound. She  played and played,  taking no  notice of the  audience she
had drawn.  Cefn wanted  to move around  to get a  better look  at her
charms - er, instrument  - but he found that he  couldn't move. He was 
then able to tear  his eyes away from the woman,  and he noticed other
astral-selves arranged  in a circle  around the instrument.  Most were 
very  thin  and pale,  looking  as  if  something was  draining  their 
vitality  away. Cefn  gasped  when he  saw that  most  of the  wraiths
circled there  were missing the  silver cord  that tied them  to life.
He realized  that the  playing woman  was some  kind of  astral siren,
put here to gather  food for some creature on the  first order to feed 
upon.  It wasn't  long before  he felt  a drain  on his  own very  low 
reserves, and he knew  that he would have to get  away soon, before he 
too became part of this eternally captive audience.
    He  turned away  from  the woman  -  as much  movement  as he  was
allowed. He  concentrated on the silver  cord that still bound  him to
his body  and encouraged  it to  pull him away  from here.  Slowly, he
focused every gram  of energy he could muster into  that activity, but
he feared it  wouldn't be enough. Then, almost  unbidden, Je'en's face
came into  his mind and  he heard her  voice above the  chimes saying, 
"Help me, Cefn. Help me!"
    He didn't  know from  whence that  plea had  come, but  it spurred 
him to  dredge up the  very last  of his reserves.  Pouring everything 
he had into his  link to life, he willed himself  away from the siren. 
And  slowly  at   first,  he  was  pulled  painfully   away  from  the
chime-playing  woman. Farther  and  faster, chanting  Je'en's name  to
try to counteract the chimes, Cefn was drawn to safety.
    The  normally achy  return to  the body  was magnified  to roaring
pain when  Cefn came back. But  the pain was  good - it meant  that he
was still  alive. But  tired, so tired.  He opened his  eyes to  see a 
concerned  Ka'en standing  over him.  He said  weakly, "Sorry,  Ka'en, 
but...got  to rest.  Tell you  when I  wake...." He  fell back  into a
deep restoring  sleep, leaving  the thief to  fret and  wonder whether 
the  wizard  had gotten  what  he  needed,  and  then to  fall  asleep 
himself waiting for the answer. 

                               The Keseth
    They landed  just in  time. As  soon as  the huge  reptile touched 
ground  before the  mine  adit, it  began to  crumble.  Its return  to 
death was  swifter and messier than  its rise from the  grave, leaving 
parts  beyond just  the  skull  to rot  and  moulder.  Vard and  Je'en 
scrambled out  of the wreckage  of the beast's midsection,  both upset 
at  being covered  with rotting  dragon  slime. Vard  sent Je'en  back
into the mess  to recover the chest  that held most of  what he needed
- the remainder of their supplies could wait. 
    He sent  Je'en back in  to retrieve  Tanandra. The thing  she came 
out with  was a  withered husk,  nothing like  the healthy  young girl 
that had  arrived on his doorstep  little more than a  week ago. There 
was just  a flicker of  life left within her,  not enough to  keep the
dragon  reanimated any  longer. Vard  clucked sadly  when he  saw what 
was left  of Tanandra.  Not because he  was sad that  she was  all but 
dead, but  because he  hadn't been paying  attention to  her condition
and  if  she  had given  out  sooner,  there  could  have been  a  bad 
accident.  Vard had  had no  idea that  the drain  of reanimating  the 
dragon had  been so strong  - it  had taken only  hours to use  up the
young woman.  He briefly wondered  if there  was some impurity  in his 
mivorn amulet because  the manual had indicated that  one person could
keep  'alive' a  whole army  regiment for  more than  a week.  Maybe a
dragon was more costly that that many human corpses. 
    Now  he would  need another  source to  enable him  to awaken  his
guide into  the mine. Fortunately, he  had another one ready  to hand.
He  gave Je'en  instructions to  set up  the amulet  and the  portable
book stand.
    He had  no trouble  getting Je'en  to place  her palm  against the 
glowing  black stone.  She gasped  when the  sliver entered  her palm,
but after that she simply accepted it with no comment at all.
    Next, he  unpacked the  skull of  the guide and  placed it  on the 
ground next  to the  amulet. With now-practiced  ease, he  uttered the
incantation that  restored the skull  to life without  even consulting
the book. Je'en withstood the purple light's draining without a sound. 
    Je'en re-packed the  chest and hefted it onto her  back while Vard 
unrolled  the ancient  map and  lead the  way into  the mine  followed 
closely by the  animated and re-embodied skull holding a  torch in its
grey-skinned hand. 

    Trap after  trap, identified  and defused or  destroyed. Maze-like
tunnels  threaded only  with  the  help of  the  ancient map.  Without 
either guide  or map, Vard would  have been first lost  then dead very 
soon after  stepping into the  mine. Those Fretheodan  were ingenious,
tenacious, and redundant  - in places the passage was  barred by four,
five, or  even eight separate traps  layed under, on, and  around each 
other. The  most tiring  part, however,  was the time  it took  to get 
the  necessary  information   out  of  the  undead   guide.  It  never
volunteered  anything,   it  only   answered  direct   questions  very
succinctly  and  literally. Hours  ticked  by  as the  trio  proceeded
slowly deeper and deeper into the mine. 
    Vard had  to marvel at  the sophistication  of many of  the traps. 
Very  few   were  magically  oriented,   but  even  those   that  were 
mechanical  were  usually created  with  a  simplicity and  efficiency
that was  laudable. Vard was  careful to  disable each and  every trap 
he  came  across,  but  when  it  became  harder  and  harder  to  get 
disarming  information  out  of  the   guide  due  to  the  increasing 
complexity of  the traps, he  turned to smashing and  destroying them. 
And as  they went lower into  the mine, even smashing  the traps began 
to  take finesse  as they  were made  more ingeniously.  Finally, when
they had  reached the  level of the  keseth vault, he  had to  take to 
disarming  the traps  again because  brute force  was no  longer safe.
They took  as long  reaching the  vault as they  had taken  getting to
the lowest level. 
    But finally  they reached the  vault. In  a large cavern  very far
under the  earth Vard, the  guide, and Je'en  faced a slab  of strange 
looking metal  with a large  key-plate in  its center. Vard  let Je'en
set down  the chest as  he withdrew the  third treasure that  had come
from beneath Dargon castle - the key to the final vault. 
    As he  strode over to the  door, something made him  turn and look 
at  the guide.  He was  startled  to see  that it  was smiling,  which
faded as Vard turned back from the door and stood next to the guide. 
    "Are there any traps remaining here?" asked Vard. 
    "Yes," answered the guide in its toneless voice.
    "How many?" 
    "One."
    Vard thought a moment, then asked, "On that key-plate?"
    "Yes."
    "What kind?" 
    "Cave-in trigger,  poison needle,  gas, trap door,  crossbow bolts
from the walls, a..."
    "That's enough!"  interrupted Vard. "So, they  put everything they
had in  this last  trap. Okay,  that's reasonable.  Now, how  does one 
get by these traps to open the door?" 
    "One does not," said the guide, beginning to smile again. 
    Vard thought  again, then  he said,  "I've got  it. So  simple, so 
common! That  key-plate is a  ruse, a lure  for the foolish.  Where is
the real lock for this door?" 
    The  guide's smile  turned  into a  pout. It  said,  "On the  wall 
behind us, behind the moss-covered rock that isn't covered with moss." 
    Vard began  to brush his  hand across the slimy-green  rocks until 
he came to one  that was not slimy, though just as  green. He pried at 
the stone  and lifted it away,  revealling a very plain  keyhole. With 
triumph, he  inserted the key and  started to turn it.  Then, thinking
back to  the complex instructions he  had given to that  thief who had 
brought him  the Tome of  the Yrmenweald,  he asked the  guide, "Which 
way do I turn the key, and how far?"
    The guide  replied, with a  hint of disapointment in  its toneless 
voice, "To the right three times exactly." 
    Vard complied,  hearing a click  each time  that the key  made one 
revolution. He  could feel that the  key could have kept  turning, and 
he wondered  what nasty trap  would have  been triggered by  the wrong 
number  of turns.  Leaving the  key in  its hole,  he returned  to the 
vault  door, where  a handle  had appeared.  Grabbing hold  of it,  he 
pulled the  door open, unsealing a  vault that had been  closed up for
more than a thousand years. 
    The  first  thing  he  noticed  as he  entered  was  the  smell  - 
strange,  musty and  musky and...he  had no  words for  it. He  walked 
into the  dimly lit room, seeing  large panels along one  wall bearing 
small circles of  glass in neat, ordered rows. Another  set of panels, 
about  waist high  and horizontal,  bore  more circles  of glass,  and
little  twigs standing  in  rings of  metal  interspersed with  larger 
square panes of glass.
    Just as  he was turning  around, the  room was flooded  with light 
and  the  sight that  was  revealed  almost  made Vard's  heart  stop. 
There,  occupying  a  space  four  or  five  times  the  size  of  his
laboratory back at Aahashtra was a - a thing! 
    Crisscrossing  that part  of  the  room in  what  seemed  to be  a
random  pattern  were foot-thick  rods  of  what was  probably  stone.
Somehow  bound between  those rods  was something  that looked  like a
cross between  a spider  and a grasshopper  magnified a  thousand fold
or more. And it was alive!

                                The End 
    Six hours  after Cefn returned,  he awoke refreshed. Not  quite as
good as  new, but  his rest  had pushed back  the overload  effects of
the sustaining magic he  had been using and he was  ready to go again.
After locating Ka'en  and rousing him from his little  nap and raiding
the keep's pantry for food, they prepared for their journey to Duurom. 
    To Ka'en,  who wasn't  as refreshed  as Cefn  but who  was feeling
better  for  his  nap,  being  teleported was  weird.  He  had  always
imagined that  it would be  instantaneous, but  he was sure  that they
spent  several  minutes  flying  between Aahashtra  and  the  mine  on
Duurom. When  they arrived, to  the night  and double shadows  cast by 
two  moons,  the  first  thing  he noticed  even  before  the  second, 
smaller moon, was the rotting carcass of Vard's undead dragon. 
    Cefn, however,  noticed Tanandra first.  She was still  alive, but 
even  if she  should survive  it would  be as  a wasted  wreck of  her
former self.  She looked  at Cefn  with sunken and  cloudy eyes  as he
knelt beside her,  and said, "I guess I wasn't  strong enough for him, 
was I?"
    Cefn, unseen  eyes tearing at the  sight of his former  love, said 
shakily,  "I'm sorry  for forcing  you into  this, Tandi.  I'm so,  so 
sorry! I  should have gone. I  should have taken the  gorfodd and gone 
after Vard before he could get this far into the Forbidden Art. I...."
    "Cefn, love,  don't. You cannot  change what  is - just  accept it 
and learn  to live  with it. Leave  me and get  after Vard.  What I've 
learned about his  plans...you must stop him. Go, catch  him before he 
can harness the  keseth..." Her voice trailed off and  her eyes closed
for the last time.
    Cefn  didn't  move  for  a  long  time,  strangely  colored  tears 
falling  from his  cowl onto  Tanandra's withered  flesh. Finally,  he 
turned  away  to find  Ka'en  standing  right  behind him  staring  in
horrified fascination  at the  remains of the  brave girl.  Cefn said, 
"She was known  to me long ago  - we were students  together. Vard has 
killed her - she  was consumed by the powers of  the Forbidden Art. We
must destroy him. Come." 
    He took out  the sand-map and shifted its focus.  It became a copy
of the  ancient map that  Vard had  followed, showing the  way clearly 
down  to  the final  vault.  Pulling  a  small  clear globe  from  his
pocket, he  tossed it into the  air. It began floating  just above his
head,  casting a  golden  glow.  Squinting carefully  at  the map,  he 
entered the mine. 

    When Vard recovered  from the shock of seeing the  creature - what
he assumed was meant  by the symbol he had named  'keseth' - he turned
his attention  to the rest  of the room. He  was suprised by  the rack 
of  swords hanging  on the  short wall  beside the  vault door  - they 
seemed out  of place in  this very  uncomprehensible room as  the only 
item he truly  recognized. Against the wall opposite the  door was the 
master-node  of  cwicustan attached  to  the  framework the  Tome  had
described as  linking it to the  caged and bound keseth.  Vard went to 
work busily on  that lump of stone,  chipping away at it  to remove it 
from the framework.  He already had his own piece  of cwicustan primed 
and ready to go  into the socket. Once it was there,  he would be able 
to communicate with the keseth and learn all of the mysteries it held. 

    Ka'en noticed  more of  the deactivated traps  than did  Cefn, and
he, like  Vard before  him, marvelled  at the  work. He  was certainly 
glad that someone  else had blazed the trail through  those traps - he 
doubted that his  second teacher, a Master Trapper,  could have found, 
let alone deactivated, half of the traps they passed.
    The pair made  much better time than had Vard's  group. Of course, 
all  of the  work had  been done  for  them. All  they had  to do  was
follow  the map  at  their  top possible  speed.  The sand-map  showed
Je'en  was  already  at  the  final vault  -  Ka'en  only  hoped  that
whatever this Vard person was doing there would take lots of time. 

    They came  out into  the last  cave and saw  the open  vault door. 
Cefn could see  both Vard and Je'en, as well  as a rather grey-looking
man.  The  latter  two  were just  standing,  statuelike,  while  Vard
chipped away at  a large piece of  crystal while looking at  a slot in
the wall.  None of  the three  had noticed their  arrival. With  a low 
whistle, the clear globe returned to Cefn's hand and stopped glowing.
    He  returned the  globe to  his pouch  and retrieved  another item
from it. He  whispered, "Ka'en, take this and try  to distract Vard. I
don't think you  will be able to  kill him but you can  try. This disc
should protect  you from most  any magic he casts  at you but  not for 
very long. When  it starts turning black,  it has been used  up and is 
useless. Oh,  one more thing."  Cefn reached  back into his  pouch and 
came out  with the mysterious crystal  circlet. He handed it  to Ka'en
and said,  "I think  that this  will protect  you from  mental magics.
Vard is  an expert  at mind control,  which is why  Je'en is  in there
and not out here with us. Okay, ready?"
    "Wait. Why  don't you go  after the wizard,  eh? At least  you can
meet him  on his  own level."  Ka'en was  looking suspiciously  at the
small clear disc he had been given. 
    "I want  to see if I  can free Je'en  - she'll make a  useful ally 
for our side. Also,  I'm a better fighter than you are  if I can't get 
her  out of  Vard's control.  Neither  she nor  I have  swords, and  I
think I can handle her easily hand-to-hand. Satisfied?"
    Not waiting  for an answer,  Cefn crept to  the edge of  the vault 
door  and  peered through.  Ka'en  came  up  beside him,  holding  the
amulet like  a very  small shield  in front of  his body,  the circlet
perched on  his head  like a  crown. At his  signal, they  both rushed
into the room. 
    Unfortunately, the  presence of the  keseth was just  as startling
to the two adventurers  as it had been to Vard  earlier, and they were 
stunned  into immobility  by  the  sight of  the  giant insect.  Je'en
moved away from  Cefn and crouched into a defensive  posture. Her eyes
flickered to  the wall of  blades, and she  began to make  plans while 
awaiting orders.
    Vard looked  up from his  work and  recognized both his  old rival
Cefn and  that thief  he had  hired so long  ago. He  reacted quickly. 
First,  he released  the  energies  keeping the  guide  animated -  he
didn't want  anything to hamper  Je'en. Then he said,  "Je'en, protect 
me from these intruders." 
    She knew exactly  what to do. She executed a  perfect diving roll, 
flashing  past the  slowly recovering  intruders. She  straightened up
by  the racked  swords  and  plucked one  from  its  place. It  almost 
seemed to  hum in  her hand,  and she delighted  in its  lightness and
perfect  balance.  Dropping again  into  an  en guarde  position,  she 
faced the two intruders ready to obey her master's order. 
    Cefn  recovered first  and  took in  the  new situation.  Trusting
Ka'en to  continue on  with his  part of the  plan, Cefn  reached into 
his pouch for a  wand. Drawing it and firing it in  one motion, he ran 
toward Je'en and the rack of swords. 
    Je'en instinctively  blocked the bolt  of blue that had  shot from 
the tip of  Cefn's wand. The bolt bounced off  of the dull-grey blade,
but the impact pushed her back through the vault door.
    Cefn  took swift  advantage, dropping  the  wand to  grab a  sword
from the  rack as  he followed  his love  out the  door. In  the outer 
cave there would be  more room to maneuver, and he  might have more of
a chance to subdue Je'en. 
    There was one  more matter to consider, though.  He couldn't fight 
effectively in  his cowl.  Reaching again into  his pouch,  he removed 
two  spheres, one  clear,  one  black. Juggling  them  one handed,  he
timed the toss  and threw first the  black one at the  vault door, and 
the clear  one back into  the air. It began  to glow bright  golden as 
the black one  shattered and enveloped the doorway  in blackness. Cefn
hoped that  Vard didn't decide  to break  the simple darkness  spell -
he shouldn't  even be  able to  see it  as it  was a  one-way darkness 
like the one on  his cowl and from the other side  it should look like
nothing at  all was barring the  doorway. With his eyes  protected for
the time  being, Cefn  lowered his  cowl and faced  his love  across a 
pair of very fine, very strange swords.
    He  and Je'en  had  sparred  several times  in  the  past, but  he 
really didn't know  the extent of her abilities. He  knew that she was 
good;  he had  watched several  fights  she had  been in,  and he  had 
watched her from  afar as she was training at  Pentamorlo. But to face 
her with  that hard,  serious look on  her face -  and, for  the first 
time he  realized that she  wasn't wearing  her mask! That  rocked him
long enough  for Je'en to launch  an attack. Fortunately, it  was only 
a  series of  feints, a  test-pattern to  determine the  level of  her 
opponent,  and Cefn  was  able  to reflexively  block  them. When  the 
blades contacted  each other, they  gave off a  louder hum as  well as 
green and  yellow sparks.  Cefn wondered just  what these  swords were
as he was  turned and forced back  into a wall. He  dodged a thrusting
blow  that  struck the  wall  behind  him.  He  danced away  from  the
entrapment and watched,  amazed, as Je'en withdrew half  of the length
of her  blade from  the wall  amid many purple  sparks. When  she came 
back en guarde, he could see no damage at all on her blade.
    The fighting began  in earnest then. Cefn tried  to put everything 
from his mind,  to reach the unity with sword  that Je'en already had.
As  they fenced  back  and  forth, he  came  closer  and closer  until 
finally  there  weren't two  people  in  the  cave, but  two  extended
swords fighting each other.
    Back and forth,  around and around, the dance  of death continued,
both parties  so totally  involved in the  graceful battle  that Cefn,
at least,  forgot who  he was  battling. It  was almost  as if  it was
truly  the swords  moving the  people  through the  fight. Yellow  and
green,  an occaisional  burst of  purple as  blade sliced  into stone, 
and a  humming that  grew and grew  until it filled  the cave  and the
people fighting.
    When one of  those blades met flesh, the resultant  spark was long 
and crimson,  a more startling  color than  the blood that  the strike
also drew.  The dance  faltered, and Cefn  pressed his  advantage. His
opponent  reacted as  if far  more injured  that a  little arm-scratch
could account  for. Without  thought, he executed  a maneuver  that he 
couldn't  have described  afterward and  came up  under Je'en's  sword
arm.  It wasn't  until he  saw the  double fountain  of red  - crimson
light  and red  blood -  that  he remembered  he wasn't  here to  kill 
Je'en,  just subdue  her,  knock  her out.  Vard  was  the enemy,  not
Je'en. But  that didn't convince  the grey sword-blade  half-buried in 
Je'en's side. 

    Ka'en recovered his  wits in time to see Cefn  follow Je'en out of 
the vault, leaving him  alone with the wizard Vard -  the grey man had
vanished  somehow,  leaving  behind  only a  very  old-looking  skull.
Ka'en faced Vard with  the amulet disc held out before  him. He had no
idea what  to do now. At  least, he thought, Vard  was distracted from
what was going on in the cave outside.
    Coils  of blue  light were  wreathing Vard's  hands as  the wizard
chanted.  Ka'en  held  the  disc   higher,  but  when  the  spell  was 
released, the  streamers of blue  light by-passed the amulet  and were 
absorbed  by the  circlet he  wore. Vard  looked puzzled  as he  said,
"Put down the  disc and come here." Ka'en wondered  why the wizard was
trying to give him orders, and he just stood still. 
    This seemed to  infuriate the wizard. Rage suffused  his face, and
his arms  went up, hands glowing  a firery red. He  said mysteriously,
"You  should have  stuck  to stealing  books,  you meddlesome  thief!"
With that, thick  bolts of fire flashed out from  each of his fingers, 
meeting before his  face to become one very large  bolt. Ka'en started
to back away from  the oncoming spell, but the bolt homed  in on him -
or rather the disc he held before him.
    By rights,  and without the  protection he had, Ka'en  should have
been  nothing  but  a  pile   of  smouldering  ashes  after  the  bolt 
dissapated.  But the  disc  amulet worked  - mostly.  It  was able  to 
absorb  the destructive  energy of  the  spell, so  that Ka'en  wasn't
killed outright.  However, the amulet  wasn't strong enough  to absorb
the  entire spell.  Ka'en  was hurled  back by  the  force behind  the 
energy. He  was unconscious before  he hit  the wall beside  the vault 
door, and he stayed slumped like that for a long time.
    When he  awoke, the first thing  he was aware of  was being alive.
His hand hurt,  but the rest of  his body felt fine. He  looked at his 
hand,  half afraid  that he  would  find that  it was  just a  charred
lump, but it looked  perfect. He saw that the disc  was now pure black
and cracked around the edges. He set it aside quietly as now useless. 
    Next  he  noticed the  humming  coming  from  the cave.  He  eased 
himself into  position to look  out the  vault door and  was instantly 
mesmerized by the  dance going on out there. He  had never before seen
such skill  as was  being exhibited by  Cefn and his  cousin -  he had
had no  idea that  either of  them, Cefn  especially, was  so talented 
with the sword. 
    Finally,  he  remembered his  mission.  As  he turned  around,  he 
heard the  humming stop  but he didn't  turn back to  see why.  He saw 
that Vard  was fitting his  lump of stone into  the wall and  was very
absorbed  by that  activity. Old  training came  to the  fore, and  he
drew his belt knife.  He recalled just where and how  to drive even so 
short a  knife as he  had to kill swiftly  from the back.  He centered 
his attention  on that back,  searching out  just the right  spot, and 
he began to cross the well-lit and empty room as silently as he could. 
    Closer  and closer  Ka'en crept.  He forced  hiself to  ignore the
keseth after  glancing at it  once and seeing  that it was  alive, its 
sides moving rhythmically  and its many-eyed head  seemingly turned in
his  direction. It  took all  of his  concentration to  look away  and 
return to the task at hand.
    Closer  and closer...and  just as  Ka'en was  beginning his  leap, 
Vard turned  around with a gasp  of "What?!" The wizard  tried to back
away from  the thief, but  he was too close  to the wall  to maneuver. 
His  hands went  up  again, beginning  to glow  with  fire, but  Ka'en 
ignored  the distraction  and  re-aimed  himself instantaneously.  His 
leap continued and  his knife slid into Vard's chest  just to the left
of his  sternum, angled in  a bit. Steel  grated harshly on  bone, and
Vard screamed. 
    Ka'en backed  away from the  wizard. Vard screamed again,  and the
power  he had  been gathering  slipped  away. Ka'en  watched the  fire 
flicker down his  arms and spark around the knife  protruding from his 
chest.  Vard gave  one  last cry  as his  mortally  wounded heart  was
shocked into  stopping a little  bit early  by the mis-release  of his
own magic, and then he was no more. 

    Shock immobilized  Cefn for several minutes.  Slowly, reason began 
to return  and his  first thought  was whether  he had  enough healing
rods  to save  her. He  knelt by  Je'en's side,  frantically searching 
for the green rods  in his belt pouch. He located  five and breathed a 
sigh of relief; it had taken three to heal Ka'en of a similar wound. 
    Ready with  the first rod,  Cefn carefully  took hold of  the hilt
of his  sword and  pulled. What  he withdrew from  the wound  was only 
half  a sword,  though. The  part that  had been  within Je'en's  body 
had...well, melted or something.
    Cefn applied all  five of the healing rods to  the wound, but they
didn't seem  to work as well  on her as  they had on Ka'en.  After the 
fifth she  still had a bad  scar, and she seemed  drained somehow. The
flesh around  both the torso wound  and the slight scratch  on her arm 
was of a sickly  grey tone and Cefn was sure that  the grey around the 
larger wound was spreading.
    He  was searching  in  his pouch  for more  healing  rods when  he 
heard  a weak  "Cefn?" He  turned  back to  Je'en to  find her  awake, 
struggling to sit  up. He helped her  up to lean against  his body and
said, "I'm here, Je'en, I'm here." 
    "Cefn, I've  had such a  strange dream.  I...I wasn't myself  - it
was  like  I was  a  marionette  and this  evil  man  was pulling  the
strings. I killed a  man, maybe two, and I stole  some old things from
the basement  of a castle.  Then I  was brought to  a deep cave  and I 
was forced to fight  you and you...you won. Oh, Cefn,  I feel so cold. 
My side hurts and my arm hurts and I'm very, very cold..." 
    Cefn hugged  Je'en close  and said,  "I know, my  love. It  was no
dream. All of  that happened, including the duel. But  I think that it
wasn't  us fighting,  but those  strange swords.  And I'm  afraid that 
they  were poisoned  or something,  because you  don't look  well even 
after all of  the healing I could  give you. Oh, Je'en,  I'm so sorry.
I love you and I think I've killed you!"
    Ka'en  chose that  moment  to  come out  of  the  vault. He  said,
"Cefn, is Je'en all  right? I managed to kill Vard:  did that free her 
from his control?"
    Je'en answered,  "I'm almost all right,  cousin, and I am  free of 
that man's control. Thank you, thank you both for rescuing me."
    Cefn said, "But  you aren't all right!  I've got to get  you to my
laboratory. We  have to find  out what these swords  do so I  can cure
you. Come on."  He tried to lift  her, but found that he  was too weak 
to manage it. 
    Ka'en said,  "Why don't  we ask  the keseth?  They were  stored in
its vault  after all,  maybe it knows  how they were  used and  how to 
cure their wounds."
    Ka'en had  to help Cefn transport  Je'en into the vault.  Cefn was 
too  exhausted to  wonder how  Ka'en had  learned to  communicate with 
the monster beast; he just hoped that it knew how to help his love. 
    They  lowered Je'en  to the  floor of  the vault,  and Cefn  knelt
beside her  to help support  her. Ka'en went  over to the  now glowing 
crystal in  the wall  without even  a glance for  the dead  wizard who 
had been moved  into a corner. He  layed his hands on  the crystal and
said, "We ask your help, Master Keseth."
    An eerie  voice came out  of the  panels dotted with  glass behind
Cefn and Je'en. It said, "What service may I render?"
    Cefn started  to reply, but Ka'en  said, "Wait, Cefn. It  can only 
understand  you  if you  are  touching  the  cwicustan node.  Let  me. 
Master Keseth, do  you know the function of the  swords racked on that 
wall over there?"
    "I do. They  were the constructs of the Clear  Fire Weavers, those 
wizards who  helped to imprison me.  They were used in  executions and
other rituals. The death they brought was said to be terrible indeed." 
    "What death was this, Master Keseth? Is there a cure?"
    "The  death is  a death  by  fading. The  swords are  made from  a 
material which  alters the state  of matter.  Mention was made  of the 
etherial plane  as well as the  second order of form  - these concepts
mean  nothing to  me. The  victim slowly  fades from  normal corporeal 
existence  and the  'Weavers knew  of no  way to  reverse the  process 
once complete. Also, there is no conventional cure."
    "Then  there is  no  hope?  Je'en is  going  to  become a  wraith, 
doomed to wander the etherial plane forever?"
    "I  can offer  only one  solution. Fretheodan  legends spoke  of a 
place where  total renewal was  possible - a  body could be  healed of 
all hurts and  injuries in this place. Many expeditions  were sent out 
to find  this place, but none  knew of any that  succeeded. However, I
do. One party managed  to find what they were looking  for. I can give 
you the location of this place if..."
    Ka'en almost  shouted, "If  what!?! We'll do  anything we  can for
the chance to save Je'en. Tell us, please!"
    "I have been  trapped here for ages beyond reckoning.  I wish only 
to return  to my home. I  will tell you how  to free me in  return for 
the  location,  but I  must  tell  you that  if  you  let me  go,  the
Yrmenweald will  go with me.  The power that  that other man  came for 
will be gone."
    "We followed Vard  here to rescue Je'en, not  for whatever foolish
dreams he  had. We will free  you - we  would even if you  didn't have
information we need. Just tell us what we need to do...." 

    Freeing the keseth  had been easy - Ka'en and  Cefn had pushed the 
twigs and  bits of glass  that seemed to be  switches of some  sort in 
the order  that the  keseth told  them to. One  by one,  the scattered
bars in  the keseth's part  of the room  retracted into the  walls and 
finally it  was free.  It then  caused the little  rounds of  glass to 
flash rapidly  and randomly, after which  a little door opened  in one 
of  the panels.  The keseth  said, "Within  that compartment  you will
find a  map of  the location  you seek. I  have also  supplied tablets 
that should  lend your companion  strength as you seek  her salvation.
They should  retard the  spread of the  sword's poison  throughout her
system. I  fear, however, that  she has only  a month unless  you find
the restorative place."
    Cefn thanked  the keseth  for the  help, and  he and  Ka'en helped
Je'en out  of the mine.  Once they were  clear, the keseth  worked its 
way out  using its own abilities  and those provided by  the cwicustan
to force  a way through  solid earth. It came  out of the  mountain by 
blasting its  own adit, and  Cefn, Ka'en,  and Je'en waved  and called 
goodbyes  after it  as it  crawled  away. Cefn  concentrated, drew  up 
enough power  to teleport all three  of them, and with  a thought they
were safe  back in Dargon, ready  to rest a bit  before continuing the 
quest to save Je'en.
    Thus there was no  one to see the falling star  come down near the
old mine. There  was no explosion at  its impact - in  fact it settled 
to the  ground quite gently. The  keseth entered the silver  ovoid and
it  rose majestically  back into  the  air, carrying  the keseth  away 
from its long-time prison and back to its home among the stars. 
                      -John L. White  <WHITE@DUVM>

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ars. 
                      -John L. White  <WHITE@DUVM>

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