Ted kept his distance, letting Cara handle the dryad. Whatever trauma she’d been through, this was clearly a wood elven matter. So long as there wasn’t any more violence, it wasn’t his problem anymore.

That question, though…

That damned question. It loomed in his mind, refusing to rest until it had an answer.

He hadn’t run into any babies, sure, but he’d come across a few preschool-aged kids.

Wood elven preschoolers. They were probably around twenty, if not older. Dwarven kids matured about as fast as humans, and the youngest dwarves he’d come across had been teenagers… fourteen, fifteen, maybe?

A knot tightened in his gut. Fourteen years.

Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe the younger children had just been sequestered away to keep them safe from the ongoing siege.

Maybe.

Ted scuffed the ground. There were too damned many maybes these days.

Eventually, the dryad—Finvarra, apparently—was ready to go. She walked side by side with Cara on the way back to the Redoubt. Ted walked behind, not trusting himself to say something stupid.

One of the few wood elven mages in existence, born in the Age of Heroes. The knowledge she might have, the questions she could answer…

Questions that would have to wait. The dryad walked in silence, its shoulders slumped, its gaze darting around the forest at every sound. It was hard to reconcile the twitchy, twisted dryad as the author of the gleeful love poem he’d read in the ruins.

A Ranger patrol appeared out of nowhere as they approached the Redoubt, bows raised and half-drawn. The usual superhuman grace of their movements was marred by fear and anger, and they yelled for Finvarra to stay still that they might bind her hands and gag her.

Cara argued with them, vouching for the dryad, but even so—if Jeremy hadn’t arrived so promptly, Ted suspected the peace would have been over before it truly began.

Jeremy silenced the understandably cautious rangers with a glare before leading Cara, Ted, and Finvarra to meet with the other leaders. They weren’t far, standing in a circle which opened up to allow them to join.

Cara relayed what had happened, speaking with a confidence that warmed Ted’s heart. Despite herself, she seemed to be taking to being a Prowler well.

Her report was met with a stunned silence, broken first by Finvarra. “We are sorry and we will be until the end of time. The Destroyer’s voice, his feelings, his desires—his song permeated our minds, our very souls.”

Ted frowned, still struggling to make sense of it. Finvarra seemed genuine, but he’d seen no sign of any magic acting upon her. “His song, like the tree-song?”

The druid nodded slowly. “Yes, though I know of no magic so foul as to allow such a thing.”

“Not even Dark magic?”

Finvarra’s face froze, a fleeting widening of her eyes betraying concern. Almost like she was worried she was being accused. “No. There is no such Dark magic.”

Ted nodded, letting the matter lie, for now. But if Finvarra knew of Dark magic—which would make sense, if Rebirth was such a profane act of necromancy—she might be willing to share such knowledge privately.

Elivala jumped in, filling the void left in the wake of bringing up Dark magic. “We must focus on the here and now. Ted, Cara, how progresses your quest to resolve the dungeon spawn threat?”

“Slowly,” Ted said, sharing an anxious glance with Cara. “Ragnarok is coming, that much is clear, and I have a lead on stopping it.”

The weary faces before him grew wearier still at the mention of Ragnarok, and Cara shot metaphorical daggers at him. But what was he supposed to do—tell them that the lead came from Death and the Destroyer?

Ted pushed on. “The answer is at the Hub, but getting there won’t be easy. Imperial forces have set up a blockade around it. We’ll need help.”

The assembled leaders stiffened. Ardic spoke first, his face blank. “We cannot oppose the Divine Emperor.”

A scowl formed on Ted’s face. “He murdered Orlanda right in front of you! He’s just as much your enemy as the dungeon spawn, if not more. I’m pretty sure he’s the one who set off Ragnarok, and now he’s trying to stop us fixing it.”

Elivala’s expression was equally blank. “Regardless, we cannot oppose the Divine Emperor.”

Of course. Ted took a deep breath. “Is anyone here but Cara willing to oppose the Divine Emperor? Jeremy? Luther? Edana?”

Silence. Silence from the lot of them. Whatever his father had done, he’d messed with everyone’s heads pretty damned effectively.

Everyone but his Companion, apparently.

“You’re an idiot,” Cara said, still exploring whether looks could kill, “but I’m with you, all the way to the end.”

Ted forced out a smile. That was something, at least. “Thank you. So, what’s the plan for Tolabar?”

The usual poise of Elivala shattered, replaced with a sorrow that weighed down every inch of her being. “Tolabar is cut off from the tree-song in the rest of the Great Forest. To keep our people together, it must be abandoned until either time heals its wounds, or lost magics can be found to speed the process.”

Lost magics—meaning the ancient wood elven ruins sealed by the Empire. The ones containing Rebirth magic, that dated back to Finvarra’s time. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Elivala bowed her head. “That is all we can ask. We hope that our new alliance with Tonvalbortdelan will ensure none of us will have to make such a decision again.”

Finvarra’s lips trembled. “May we… may we live there? In Tolabar?”

Elivala’s silent judgement hung in the air, thick enough to make even Ted uncomfortable.

“Yes,” Cara blurted out, drawing Elivala’s judgement onto her. “You should. It’ll give you space to heal, together.”

“You’re… you’re sure?”

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There was a long, drawn-out pause. The whole circle looked to Elivala for judgement.

Her head dipped slightly. “Very well. For now. Unless there is anything else, there are matters I must attend to.”

No response came, and, with that, the attendees went their separate ways.

Ted followed after Finvarra. “I was hoping you could teach me some magic.”

She turned to face him, sizing him up for a while before replying. “There is no magic worth learning that I could teach you.”

“The Destroyer has Dark magic. If I’m going to stop him, I’ll need every edge I can get.”

“Stop the Destroyer? My child, you might as well challenge the sun itself.”

“Don’t you want revenge?”

“Revenge?” She closed her eyes and her chin dropped. “No. We’ve suffered enough for our sins, and for the depravities of that abhorrent magic.”

“You were experimenting with Dark magic? That’s how you invented Rebirth?”

When Finvarra’s eyes opened again, they were blank, bordering on dead. “Yes. Our… experiments were why the Empire invaded the Great Forest. Why our entire species was banned from becoming mages. Why our traditions were lost and we were cast into the Deep-Forest to suffer until the end of time.”

“I’m sorry, I know this is hard, but I need to know. What’s so terrible about Dark magic?”

“To wield it is joy itself. Mana is petty and tame, but spirit? Spirit is wild, raw, as substantial as it is utterly intoxicating.”

Ted frowned. “What’s so bad about that?”

“Spirit is drawn from torturing sentient beings. The more we tortured, the more powerful we became, and the more land we conquered.”

Ah.

“But even that wasn’t enough, no, not for our most powerful magic. Not for the crowning glory of our research.”

“Rebirth.”

Finvarra’s lips pressed together, and she nodded. “Yes. Rebirth. The veil of death does not lightly return those that have passed beyond. Only the power of a soul was enough.”

A chill grasped Ted’s heart. “A life for a life.”

“Yes, though we never succeeded in drawing a soul from a Hero. Still, our armies became unstoppable, or so we believed. Even as our debasement circled ever deeper, we were sure it was our right. So no, Ted Tolabar So’aroaska, I will not teach you Dark magic.”

As much as his curiosity begged him to argue, Ted merely nodded. “I understand. Would you at least be willing to Mend my hand?”

Finvarra looked down at his stump. “I have a little spirit left, but you must understand—Dark magic carries a price, one that cannot easily be predicted. I recommend you learn to live with it.”

“That’s not an option. If I’m going to take on the Divine Empire, I need two hands.”

Her brow furled, and she pressed her lips together. She remained perfectly still, lost to the battle inside her, until, at last, she spoke. “If you are sure.” She took his arm and held it out. “Hold still.”

Ted tensed up and watched as she weaved complex magic in the air, light green and black coming together to make a discordance that set Ted’s hairs on end.

Then he felt it. The exhilaration coating his stump, the liquid joy extending outwards to form a new hand. It tingled with power—stronger, better, more alive than ever.

See, Dark magic wasn’t so bad. And that was just a little taste—imagine what an all-you-can-eat buffet would be like.

“Thank you,” he said, clenching and unclenching his new and improved fist. “I appreciate it.”

The dryad suppressed a smile. “Remember that I cautioned you against this, and good luck with your quest.”

“I don’t suppose I can entice you into joining us?”

She shook her head. “No. I have done enough damage as it is. Outside the Forest, I would be more of a liability than an aid. If you’ll excuse me, I must go and aid my brethren.”

With two working hands again, Ted went in search of Gramok. Being that he towered above the wood elves and his armor gleamed, he wasn’t hard to find.

“Hey, Gramok,” Ted said, embracing the huge orc. “Thanks for coming.”

“Always happy to help a friend. See you got your arm patched up.”

“Yeah, Finarra fixed it. You’re coming with us to the Hub, right?”

“If you mean, am I going to fight the Empire side by side with you, then… no. No matter how much I hate them, my friendship doesn’t quite stretch to full on rebellion. I will journey with you as far as I can, though, and it sounds like you’ll need all the assistance you can get.”

Ted paused. The tone of Gramok’s voice suggested that bad news was on its way. “What do you mean?”

“I, well, I have a ring to communicate with my father’s people.”

“Your father owns a portal?”

“He has access to one, and pays handsomely for it. And no, I don’t know the code for teleporting to it.”

Damn. “Alright, spit it out?”

“The good news is you’re a bit of a celebrity in the Empire.”

Ted’s shoulders slumped. He could see where this was going. “And the bad news?”

“Wanted posters, checkpoints, patrols looking for you. There’s a bounty for your capture that would make even my father blush—something about taking up arms against the Emperor himself?”

An exasperated sigh escaped from Ted before he could stop it. “Why is nothing ever simple?”

“Because there’d be no fun if it were simple. Come on, man, think of the stories! You’re an infamous rogue on the run from the Empire for attacking the Emperor himself. You could drink your way through every orc pub on the continent without spending a copper piece!”

Ted shrugged. Before he could think of a response, Cara pressed up against his back and flung her arms around him.

“Hey guys! Ready to go? Ooo, new hand! Finvarra?”

Ted held down the instinct to flee. “Yeah, and nearly. I should get the new portal code for Erinbar before we go.”

Cara released Ted and let out a sigh. “Yeah… they’re not trusting us with that. What with us going to the Divine Empire, and the way we let the Destroyer get hold of the last one…”

It was hard to argue with that logic. “Doesn’t matter; we can bounce through Valbort on the way back. Their portal room’s a lot more secure.”

Gramok clapped Cara on the back. “Did you hear Ted’s an infamous outlaw?”

“No?”

He explained what he’d heard, and Cara stood there for a while, her face scrunched up the way it did when she was considering something foolish.

She looked between the two of them while bouncing gently from side to side. “We should go to the Shrine of the Spirits.”

A growl emanated from Gramok. “Spirits? Really?”

“Yes,” Cara said, lacking much conviction. “There’s a lot of illusion magic there. We can’t murder our way across half the Empire—our dear outlaw needs a way to hide his identity.”

Ted shook his head. “That’s what Disguise is for. We can spend some time working on that before we go.”

Cara set off toward the Forest. “Come, it’s not far. You’ll never be good enough at Disguise in time!”

Gramok gave Ted a shrug. “She’s got a point. I’m not keen to trust my head to your zero Disguise skill.”

With a heavy sigh, he set off after her, glad to have Gramok—and his spiritbane greatsword—by their side.

Before long, they were standing before a narrow path leading down into a canyon. The canyon walls were overgrown with vines thicker than a fist, and littered with skulls and other bones. Most were the size of mice, but a few could easily have been from wood elves.

Or humans.

Ted’s jaw clenched tight. “Cara. You didn’t mention it’s in the Deep-Forest.”

“It’s a dungeon. Of course it’s in the Deep-Forest.”

Drawing his falchion and lamenting that a Telepathy/Aegis/Absorb spell would be completely bypassed, Ted took the lead. “Stay on your toes.”

An underground tunnel entrance came into view at the end of the canyon. There was a figure just inside, a little taller than Cara, concealed in shadows.

The sounds of leaves rustling—one of the few noises that the Forest had left—faded away, leaving only an eerie void of sound. Like silence, but more so.

Mental intrusion detected.

Great, this whole dungeon was going to be one long mental intrusion, wasn’t it? Ted prodded the passive in his mind several times, but it offered up no further information. “This silence isn’t natural, and there’s someone ahead.”

“Can you see the source of the magic?” Cara asked, her voice much quieter than usual.

Ted looked around, but there was absolutely nothing. He double checked, but Discern Magic definitely was running. “No, not even a hint of magic.”

As they approached the tunnel, it became clear that an old metal door blocked the way not far inside. It lacked any kind of handle, or even a keyhole. Jeremy stood beside it, examining it closely.

“Jeremy?” Ted said, the tightness in his chest not believing his eyes.

Jeremy turned and nodded to them each in turn. “Ted. Cara. Gramok. I see you had the same thought.”

“Right.” Ted advanced slowly, his falchion raised, and cast a Farsight with his other hand. The image that came back showed exactly the same scene, Jeremy and all. “Seems to actually be him.”

“Good to be cautious. Now, help me with this door.”

Cara pushed past Ted and approached Jeremy. “You didn’t say you were coming here.”

“There are many things I don’t tell you, Cara. Like the ruins.”

She came to a stop, crossed her arms, and stared at him. “That is… true.”

The cage around Ted’s chest tightened. It looked like Jeremy, sounded like Jeremy, and appeared as Jeremy on a Farsight, but it still didn’t add up. Time to put it to the test.

But how? Whatever they knew could be swiped from their minds by Telepathy magic. No tests of knowledge or personality could ever be relied upon to determine the truth.

With a lack of other options, he’d do what had to be done. The real Jeremy would understand.

Ted stepped forward, smiled at Jeremy, and took a swing at his face.