The satyrs dragged William away from his friend to a pit on the outskirts of the village. A rusted iron gate covered in some growth was unlocked. Doltier hauled the entrance to one side with a hand. Then he pulled up William and drew out a dagger. William almost screamed as the blade surged toward him. The ropes around his hands and legs were cut with two swift movements, and Doltier, smiling, threw him in.

William fell into the darkness and hit the earthen floor hard, clambering up slowly as he did. His every inch hurt, and he groaned in pain as the gate slid shut above him. One hand touched the stonework and found it damp and covered in moss, and there was an earthy smell. He could hear it locked above him. He could see only a little light through the grating above.

Slowly, he pulled himself up. He had to get out of here. Had to save Felix. The satyrs were going to kill him if he didn't do anything. Getting to his feet, he paced, checking the mortar in the stone. Perhaps he could loosen one of the stones and would find...

Find what? A secret passage? The idea was laughable.

No, if there were going to be an escape from this place, it would be out the way he came in.

Gripping the stonework, William sought a handhold. After a few moments, he began to scale up the wall. His mouth was so dry, and he was so hungry, but he had to remain focused. Climbing up the wall, he reached the bars and grasped them. He set his feet against the wall and began to push against the bars, trying to dislodge them. They would not budge, and he finally dropped to the floor, defeated.

He'd always been more robust than most boys his age. But that strength was insufficient to bend or dislodge metal from the rock. Returning to his idea of a secret passage, he checked the mortar to see if it was loose. It wasn't, of course. So even if he'd found some, there was pure earth beyond. In time, he could dig a tunnel, of course. But he did not have time.

William began to panic, walking back and forth while trying to think of some means by which he could escape.

He had to get free of this place, whatever the cost to himself! He had to rescue Felix! He wanted to scream, to demand they let him free, but that would do no good. He should not give the satyrs any satisfaction. After all his pacing, it left him exhausted and without progress. Finally, he sat down against the rough wall and slid into a sitting position.

Hours later, food and water were lowered down. William dared not eat any of the meat. There was no telling what, or who, it was made of. He also felt he should not drink the water for fear that it was drugged. Yet he was too thirsty to listen to this feeling and drank it. It hardly seemed to have touched his lips before it was gone.

It dawned on him that there was nothing he could do with his power to escape this place. It hurt to think of it. He needed a miracle, and none seemed likely to happen. He wanted to cry, but he reminded himself that he was the son of a Duke of Harlenor. He resolved to pray.

To which god? Laevian cared nothing for mortal affairs save insofar as they affected the wilds.

Barden was a lord of trade and pleasant things.

Coinfurth's domain was mercantile, and William had nothing to trade.

Mel'Zayer belonged more in the study than in a crisis.

Isriath and Maius had no interest in dark and sunless places like this. They were of music and revelry, and he had no deeds to call on.

Kafka, God of Madness, was out of the question, as was Baltoth and any of the Demonic Archons.

Safara, Goddess of Love? She ate people.

Farasa of Destiny? What exactly did he have to bargain with her. She had no obligation to him.

Zeya, Queen of Heroes? He wasn't a hero and hadn't done anything impressive. Nothing beyond swimming for a day across shark-infested waters, anyway. And that was countered by not fighting the satyr.

Rioletta of Fate was well-known as a weaver of webs and a sadist. She was a known compatriot of Melchious anyway.

Karus' perhaps? Goddess of Choice or whatever domain she represented now, it had become ambiguous. But, no, he was not able to offer her anything.

Jaha, Goddess of Peace? A far-off deity of eastern lands and her domain had little to do with her.

Barden? He rarely appeared and was most associated with trade and roads. There was little trade through Seathorius, so he'd have little power here.

Imogen? He wasn't that desperate.

How many Gods did William know about anyway? Perhaps some God of Knowledge could help him? Well, what power could a God of Knowledge provide in these circumstances? William wondered if they had many agents.

So, by all accounts, he was nothing to the Gods. Elranor, Lord of Death and Healing, and knights were his only option.

But would the Lord of Knights even care? Felix was a Calishan, a race member who served his archenemy, and William was a coward. He had failed even to try to fight on that ship. Why should so great and mighty concern himself with them?

Whether he would or not, William had to try.

Clasping his hands together, he focused on connecting with the divine. "Elranor, my Lord..." he said. "I have failed you. For that, I am sorry. But Felix needs your help.

"Send us aid and... and I will dedicate the rest of my life to your service. Just please don't let Felix die!"

He waited for a response. For a moment, he thought he felt a presence. It was searching through his most profound thoughts, judging him silently. Then it was gone, and nothing was happening. He was stuck in this place, waiting for his friend to die horribly.

As time passed, it got gradually darker, and as the last light of the fading sun disappeared, he gave up entirely. Darkness came over the world, and not a beam of starlight reached him. He saw no sign of either Elranor or his captors.

He waited there in limbo, his cuts and bruises stinging him badly. He wondered what good his service was to anyone? He couldn't even avoid being captured. Then he felt it within the cell with him. It was not Elranor.

A beam of moonlight shot down through the bars, and suddenly, the blue light became red. William raised a hand to shield himself from something he did not know or understand. He felt the heat on his hands, and daring to look up, he saw his shadow lengthening. First, it cast itself on the wall. Then, it shifted into the silhouette of a girl his age sitting or perhaps lounging in the air. He felt a sensation of agony from her, and he knew of only one explanation. Judging from her silhouette, she was Harlenorian or at least took one's form. Harlenorian women tended to have huge breasts. But she was not one.

She was a demon, like Melchious, whom Father had deceived long ago.

"Well, as inelegant blubbering goes, yours is concise," the shadow said in a droll tone. "Let me return the favor. I am a being of no small power, and I'm here to strike a bargain with you."

William stared at her. "Just how much of a fool do you take me for?"

"You don't seem very intimidated," said the shadow, disappointed.

"Should I be?" asked William. "Rusara taught me of your kind. You are not here in your physical form. Which means you have only as much power as I give you. I need only command you to leave, and you will have to. And if you are here physically, I'm a dead man anyway.

"I'm not interested; now go!"

Nothing happened. The shadow looked at herself as though surprised she hadn't disappeared. "Oh, look at that. A human has underestimated the power of hell. What an unexpected development. You know that commanding me to leave is more than words, do you not? The comments are merely symbolic of you closing your heart to me.

"The only thing rejection symbolized was that making a bargain with me would be foolish. However, humans do silly things all the time. Knowing the consequences of an action does not stop you from taking it.

"That requires an effort of will, and you have no such effort."

"You'll find me uninterested," said William.

"That's a lie, and you know it," said the demoness. "If there were no possibility of you accepting my offer, I never would have been able to enter your heart.

"Now, we can get down to business.

"I'm not listening," said William, looking away.

"Very well," said the demoness, "I can't work with someone who won't listen. And you can't banish something you can't understand. So I'll sit here until you are ransomed and Felix suffers a gruesome and horrible death."

Elranor had not come, and time was of the essence. This might be the only way to save Felix.

"Speak and be done with it," William said at last,

He got the feeling she was smiling. "I knew you'd come around, dear."

"Don't use terms of affection with me, creature," William hissed.

"You asked me before how foolish I thought you were," said the demoness. "A better question would be, "How desperate is your situation?"

Very desperate, indeed. She made a fair point, though William would never admit it. "So you reason I should make a bad situation worse?"

"Hardly," said the demoness, "I think you should make a good situation worse to save your friend."

"A good situation?" asked William. "Are you blind?"

"I hate to be the one to tell you this..." said the demoness, "actually, that is a lie. However, I am pleased to tell you this: you are far better off than you think. Oh, I don't doubt this little holiday thus far has been very unpleasant, but you are almost certain to survive it. Your father will pay the ransom, and you will be sent home. Of course, Raynald and Rusara's friendship with Duke Vanion will be strained. But this is all their fault, to begin with."

"Are you trying to convince me to sell my soul by telling me my situation is better than I think it is?" asked William, hardly believing his ears.

"No," she said, "I'm telling you that selling your soul is heroic. Your strength is insufficient; you have appealed to Elranor, and he has yet to answer. And really, why should he?

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"You aren't exactly hero material, after all."

William looked away in shame. That was an understatement beyond compare; he had all but fled from battle. He had only used Felix as his excuse.

"You saw that satyr and froze up," said the demoness. "You were terrified. You had to rely on your Calishan servant to bail you out. You don't even feel bad about it. Even though your cowardice was what got you and Felix into this mess."

"Be quiet," said William.

"Before you offered Elranor your service as payment," continued the demoness. "Let me ask you: What service could someone like you possibly render the Lord of Knights? You don't want to be a hero. You certainly aren't any good at it. A hero would have joined the battle and vanquished that satyr singlehanded.

"All you did was try to stay out of the way, and you didn't even succeed.

"Everyone is going to have to go out of their way to save you. All just because of who you are. It's pathetic!"

"I said, be quiet!" said William before rushing the shadow to strike it.

He scarcely avoided bashing his head on the wall. A dark bubbling that might have been laughter filled the cell. The shadow reformed on the opposite wall.

"I'm only telling the truth," said the demoness, "if you don't like it, you should do something to fix the situation. Other paths could be pickier as to who may tread them. I realize that infernal bargains seem unattractive, but I'll tell you a secret.

"We get cheated a lot. The universe hates us because we refuse to play by its rules. So, it goes out of its way to turn binding contracts into loose guidelines at best. It is criminal. Many demons have provided service after service. All to be denied their rightful payment at the last minute."

"If all that is so," said William, "then why are you telling me this?"

"Because we don't always get cheated," said the demoness. "I'm explaining this to you so you know that even if you make a pact with me, you may escape it. Now, are you interested in hearing my offer?"

William knew he should refuse. Yet he could see no other option. "Just say it."

"I will free both you and Felix," said the demoness, "and then I will pledge thirty years of service to you. In exchange, you offer your soul. I will serve you during those thirty years while you try to cheat me. You'll have better chances than most. We've done studies, you know. Those who give their souls for the sake of another are three times more likely to escape."

The shadow's hand emerged from the wall with long black claws. "Come on; it could be fun."

She was right — everything she said made perfect sense. Elranor had not come to help him, and he ran out of time. Demons could not lie when making bargains; it was part of their nature. William stepped forward, feeling hopeless. He had to help Felix and fix the mess he'd created. Reaching for the hand, he felt a sudden inaudible cry within him. His hand stopped. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him that this was the wrong choice.

"Come on, a few more inches," said the demoness, grasping for him.

He withdrew his hand and let it drop to his side. "Enough. Leave me be."

The moonlight above waned, but the shadow held on. "Do you really think Elranor-"

"Leave!" roared William.

No more words were said. The demoness faded away, and his shadow returned to normal. William fell against the wall and sat down. Clouds had covered the moonlight, and it was now dark. Leaning back against the stone, he cried himself to sleep.

William awoke the following day to feel the sun's rays on his face from above. Yet another light was coming from within the cell — a tiny pinprick of illumination. Before his eyes, it began to grow, and a shadow appeared within it.

The shadow became a figure and emerged from the light before it faded behind them. She was standing before William, an elven girl who looked the same age as him. But, of course, that meant she was much older. Her hair was flowing blue like the ocean, and she was dressed in the strangest outfit he'd ever seen. It was a knee-length gray skirt with a white button-up shirt. Around her neck was a red bowtie. Her shoes were strange, looked impractical, and had a fair-sized bust. Though it was small by Harlenorian standards. How did she not get chills like that?

The girl looked around and noticed him. She sighed. Then she looked at a strange device on her wrist and sighed.

"Wonderful," she said, "I'm sleeping in class. Well, this had better be good. Who are you, and why have you summoned me?"

William stared, unsure of what to make of her or this situation. "My name is William Gabriel. Did Elranor send you?"

"El-who?" asked Kiyora. "Unless he can make me fall asleep when I'm supposed to be doing schoolwork, I doubt it. So how do you need help?"

"What?" asked William, hardly believing his ears.

"You aren't very bright, are you?" asked the girl. "If you called me here, you need help. That's how these things work. So what do you need?"

William strove to speak and, at last, managed it. "I'm standing before you in a cell not fit for dogs. I'm at the bottom of a pit with no shoes. I'm hungry and thirsting to death, and you are seriously asking me that question?"

"Hey, no need to get snippy," she replied, "Most people who call me are far more polite. One moment." Her form shone with an unworldly radiance. She ascended upwards to phase through the grating above.

For a moment, William wondered if he'd gone insane from stress and begun to see phantoms. It would explain a great many things. Then, there was a rumbling sound, and looking up, he saw the roots of a tree through the grating above. They strained momentarily, then fell to land on the floor in twisted and ruined pieces. Suddenly, a tree loomed overhead, and roots began to reach down. They grew longer and longer until they were at the bottom of the cell.

The girl appeared above, staring downwards. Her long hair was hanging down around her shoulders. "Can you climb up those roots?"

"I can try," said William, wondering who this strange girl was and how she commanded the trees.

Rising, he raised his hands to the roots and climbed toward the surface. It was hard work since he wasn't in the best of states, but the roots were more comfortable to climb than rock. He was also glad to be getting out, which drove him upward.

As he neared the top, the girl reached down and offered him a hand. William took it and nearly lost his grip on the power he felt in his hand. It was as if she was made of magic. Which she probably was, for how else could she command the trees themselves? Or materialize from nowhere, for that matter. Even Rusara had never done that.

Finally, he was drawn out of the pit. He dusted himself off as best he could, forcing himself to remain standing. "My thanks to you, milady. If ever I may repay you, you need only ask."

"Wait a minute," she said, "did I miss something? Why are you acting all formal?"

"I am trying to maintain my family's dignity," admitted William, "for now, I must ask for your help again. A companion of mine has also been taken prisoner and will be-"

"That's it!" she cried. "I knew I'd seen you somewhere before! What are you doing in the dream world? I thought I and... well, never mind. I thought only I could enter it."

William was at a complete loss. "I assure you, I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Don't play dumb with me!" she snapped. "I've seen you in class. Are you sleeping, too?"

Powerful she may have been, but she was also quite mad. How exactly was William supposed to react to this? "Your delusions aside, my friend is in mortal peril and needs our-"

"I'm back," said Felix.

William and the girl turned to see Felix standing before them. He was dirty and tired-looking but unhurt. The Calishan boy was holding a sack over one shoulder. His eyes were haggard; he wore a new pair of boots that looked too big. He put down the bag before drawing out a new pair of boots and pressing them into William's hands.

"Felix," said Willliam, "how did you-"

"I picked the lock on my cell," said Felix, "most of the satyrs were drunk after the festival, so they got sloppy. I stole what essential supplies I could, then headed in this direction to see if I could help you.

"Oh, and I also set the satyr village on fire."

William looked up and saw the beginnings of a smoke cloud rising over the treetops. Screams and cries of alarm could be heard. Unfortunately, it was likely that many people would die in the blaze. William remembered what the satyrs had done to the dwarves. All sympathy disappeared. "Good."

"Put the boots on, and let's go," said Felix. "They came from the dwarves; satyrs don't wear boots. That won't distract them forever. We must be far from here before they finish putting out the blaze."

William slipped the boots onto his feet. Felix handed him a waterskin he had stolen as well. Then William and Felix headed off into the woods. The girl followed them. She looked more interested than afraid at the prospect of being pursued by satyrs.

"Shouldn't we be making for the river?" she asked. "You know, so you can fill your waterskins. There are dwarvish settlements on the other side."

"I've meant to ask," said Felix. "What are you?"

"This is... um..." began William.

"My name is Kiyora," she said, "not that you bothered to ask. Also, shouldn't you know this already?"

"I told you," said William. "I've never met you before today."

"Fine, play pretend if you want," she said. "Now-" Kiyora stopped and began to waver and glow. "Oh, man, I'm waking up. And this dream was starting to get interesting. The teacher is going to kill me..."

There was a flash, and they were left alone in the woods.

"...That was strange," said Felix.

It was the tone of one who had seen an old friend.