Montazus led at the front of the group along many paths. Two days passed before they reached a village.

Several people came out to meet them. All of them were pale-skinned, like those who had attacked the Dragon Empire before. However, they dressed much the same and had similar weapons, yet there was a death theme to them. Skulls were carved into the doorframes of their houses.

The houses had been built of stone with thatched roofs. A large palisade wall surrounded them, but there were no guards. The path was dirt and kept clear, but there was a forlorn look to this place. It seemed as though it was all a frame, and at the center was a firepit filled with bones—some of them human.

Relma looked to Montazus, and a question occurred. She thought about how best to ask it. Eventually, she decided to just go ahead and say it right out. "Do the villagers here serve you or Durag?"

"Neither, though they worship the Sun, they do not believe in the faith," said Montazus. "To do so would bring the wrath of Durag, for they must sacrifice their bodies and spirits to him. Now quiet, we are to be met."

Another priest, though very differently dressed, came before them. His headdress was made of black feathers, and he bore skull emblems. It was a sharp contrast to Montazus's own sun regalia, and Relma liked it somewhat better. It also had no gold or silver. She did not like all the scars on his body or the long, jagged knife.

"Welcome, High Priest Montazus. You honor us by your presence. Is this the sacrifice?" asked the priest, bowing as he did so.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," said Montazus. "We will need to rest here tonight. My brethren and I have seen many friends depart to the Sun Spirit."

"Then Durag mourns their absence," said the priest in a mournful tone. Too many have fallen in these wars already."

"Will Bryag come against us, Quxil?" asked Montazus quickly. "Or has he departed? We must know it."

"I do not think he will return today," said Quxil. Durag's gargoyles are now in great force. The Dragon Empire knows to fear them." He motioned skyward to where Relma saw many dozens of the creatures. They were flying like vultures above them. "You are welcome to our hospitality, of course. As cousins."

"Cousins?" asked Relma as she was led into the village. The villages gave way to them or stayed in their houses—more the latter than the former.

"Those who serve the Sun Spirit are all brothers in faith," said Montazus. "Those who dwell here are likewise kin. Yet they are of a more distant form."

Relma nodded and then saw a pillar of fire burning high at the top of a hill in the center of town. Yet there was nothing for it to be fueled on, save for charred bones scattered around it. Looking at it gave her a chill. "What is that?"

"The pyre of the sacrificed. One is set at the center of every one of the Sun's followers," said Montazus.

Quxil led them at last to a huge longhouse. It had what looked to be a stable near it; however, there were no horses within. Relma wondered why they would need such a thing.

At a guess, she speculated that messengers from other lands might need it. Or perhaps the horses were elsewhere right now. Montazus, however, did not give it a second glance.

Instead, he regarded his men, who were tired of running and fighting and pointed to them. "You men, rest. I shall begin the ritual in the isolation room." He looked to Relma. "Do I have your oath not to try and escape?"

"Until you decide to burn me alive, yes," said Relma, not being quite so nice as to go further.

"As good as can be expected," said Montazus. Then he looked to Quxil. "I ask that you ensure this one does not leave the village. Other than that, she may do as she will."

Relma paused as Montazus left, not waiting for Quxil's answer. The people in the village eyed her doubtfully, and Relma decided to make a good first impression. "Excuse me, Quxil? Are there any injured or sick? I have healing power."

"There are some in the house of healing," said Quxil. "Or battle with the Dragon Empire injured many of us. We could not take any prisoners this time because of the Dragons."

"You take prisoners?" asked Relma.

"Captives are, traditionally, burned in that pyre," said Quxil.

Relma was very glad they had not taken any prisoners. That would have put her in the position of having to save them, and that could break up negotiations. "I'd like to do what I can for your wounded."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Helping these people could not hurt her and might ingratiate her to others.

Quxil allowed her into the area where the wounded were kept under watch. Relma quickly set about healing everyone she could. William had had a pretty good idea by doing this, and as she worked, she realized just how hard it was. It had been bad enough to be on healing duty when there were dozens of trained healers.

Yet there did not seem to be any, not of any magical kind. Quxil seemed to use herbs and bandages. And some of them seemed to work well, yet he used no magic. Relma, meanwhile, found her skills taxed to the limit.

Before, Relma had assumed that her inferior healing skills were due to a lack of practice and her mindset. Yet now, she was just wondering if perhaps William was better. Healing stomach wounds took her precious minutes, and doing so was exhausting. William had healed such wounds in mere moments without any trouble.

Relma, however, had been taught to send men in great pain into sleep. She used this technique several times on people who had been badly injured.

"Why are you aiding us?" asked Quxil. "You may be sacrificed on that very pyre if the High Priest does not want to take you to the capital?"

"Maybe, but that won't be your fault," said Relma. "Besides, I think I might be able to set things up so everyone benefits." Relma needed information now. "So, what's it like serving Durag?"

"Durag and his dwarves dwell in many cities beneath the ground," said Quxil. "Our purpose is to grow food that his mortal servants can eat. If we perform well, we may be allowed to become true undead."

"True undead?" asked Relma.

"Undead that speak with the language of men," said Quxil. "Most people are, by nature, weak of mind. They need their bodies to prop up their spirits. Thus, when they become undead, they become mindless things of instinct. They are tortured mockeries of true beings.

"But one who is strong of will and virtuous will be able to be sentient. Perhaps even become an assistant to the scientists living within Durag's domain."

"Scientists?" asked Relma. She'd never heard that phrase.

"Seekers of knowledge who want the truth," said Quxil. "They wield strange languages and chants that we do not understand. However, they have taught us many means of healing without the magic of other cultures.

"Durag does not like magic."

"Why not?" asked Relma.

"Durag believes that magic is fickle and unreliable," said Quxil. "And the pursuit of truth would eventually lead to its extinction."

Relma decided not to question further. Durag was an authority figure, and questioning him seemed a poor choice. "Who are Durag's mortal servants?"

"Dwarves, for the most part, the descendants of his original clan," said Quxil. "They always become sentient undead, for by nature they are stronger of will."

"What makes them stronger?" asked Relma, suspecting the true answer to be nothing.

Quxil paused. "...We do not know. Questioning Durag or his officers is not wise."

Relma finished the last patient quickly and slumped, tired but victorious. Then she smiled and looked at Quxil. "Thank you for your help.

"I'll be sure to ask him when we meet. Tell me, how did your people come to be ruled by Durag?"

"Ages ago, Durag came to this land when he yet lived," said Quxil. "In those days, our people had sought to break free from the pyres of the Sun Soul Empire. Durag and his clan promised us protection from the Sun Soul Empire. In exchange for our allegiance to Highwatch, we agreed.

"For a time, we were protected at peace. Our crops were fruitful and yielded great harvests, and our borders were secure. We had wars without cousins to the south and east now and then. But the armies of the dwarves kept us strong.

"Then, when the dwarves receded in power, Durag ascended. He, the Scientist King, gained dominion over all these lands. Then our tribute was given to him."

"Why do you have a pyre at the heart of this village if you don't believe anymore?" asked Relma, curious.

"It has always been there," said Quxil. "Only those who commit grave crimes are sacrificed there. Except, of course, prisoners of war."

"And you became allies with the Sun Soul Empire again, when?" asked Relma.

Quxil shrugged. "We are whatever Durag wills us to be. He is the Scientist King.

"He slays those who abandon reason."

Relma did not like Durag's sound one bit. "I'll keep it in mind." Then, suddenly, her attention was drawn to a place beyond the village. It looked like a cave, but the ground around it was barren of life. Many skulls were lying there, abandoned and charred. "Tell me that grove. What lies there?"

Quxil looked at it. "That was once Nyx's domain, and she hunted our people day and night. However, Mazus the Bold, the founder of our village, was able to hunt her down. Entering her lair, he fought with her in single combat and subdued her.

"Thus she was burned upon a Pyre, and much of her power was sent to the Sun Spirit. She was the first sacrifice upon the pyre, and it solidified it."

"Does anyone live there now?" asked Relma.

"Nyx's hunting grounds are a cursed place," said Quxil with a shrug. "They are inhabitable only by her servants and guests, and we have hunted them to extinction here."

"But she told me that she has holdings in the Sun Soul Empire," said Relma. "When I met her." Nyx seemed to be strange and, if Relma was, to be honest, an evil entity. At least from a human standing. Was she operating on a different standard of morality?

It wasn't one Relma would want to live near. If she spread her power here, there would have to be changes.

"She does," said Quxil. "They are places of horror where people are dragged off to be devoured and taken from the Sun Soul Empire.

Quxil shifted. Then he walked outside, and Relma followed. "Nyx sometimes finds favor in young maidens she finds comely."

"Estela..." realized Relma, becoming very worried suddenly. "Has she ever done it to a guest?"

"No," said Quxil, and he sounded aghast at the suggestion.

Relma looked at the mouth of the cavern and felt uneasy. She had never felt this kind of fear before. The only place that came close was Del Gabor, and that was a long way away. She wondered just what kind of creature Nyx was. "Has anyone ever gone into that place?"

"Few have," said Quxil. And those who enter never return unchanged. There is a shadow of death in that black place. I should avoid it if you value your sanity.

"Nyx's death causes a breach within the domain. Now it touches on hell itself."

Relma paused and then began to walk toward the den of Pantera. It was on impulse, but she felt that something within that place was important. There was something she had to see. Perhaps it was a message from her higher self.

"Where are you going?" asked Quxil.

"To see what's inside," said Relma.

Reaching the mouth of the cave, she looked inside.