Rynn was up early the next morning, refreshed. No hangover this day, and feeling ready for the forthcoming events … whatever they would bring. He wolfed down a quick breakfast after rousing the others and was out the door almost before Fan was even finished with hers.

They were there substantially earlier than Knight Franmore, who arrived with a contingent of five other Knights, all acolytes or some lower ranks. Rider Lystria had personally requested the members of the Cult of Skyrnyn be personally delivered to her for interrogation, something that delighted Khaska. For a dragonrider to be personally interested in these goings on meant that the cult was being taken very seriously. The Adder Invictus had, according to the dockmaster, scheduled to leave tomorrow at high tide. There had been no activity from the ship all night, but the city watch patrolling the docks were keeping an eye on it.

Even so, the first item of the day’s business was going to be a surprise “inspection” of the Adder Invictus. Knight Franmore agreed with the party that such an action was warranted, given the circumstantial evidence against those on the ship. However, she was unwilling to take any of the party except for Fan with her. Fan was, once again, decked out in the tunic of a city watchman, and went off with the others.

Fan was surprised. The first mate of the ship simply let them on when a contingent of the Knights arrived demanding to be let on to search for stolen skyship crystals. The inspection went rather smoothly. There were no surprises. There were no secret compartments. There were no skyship crystals (though like most ships there were places for them). There were no slaves chained in the bottom of the hold. Much to Knight Franmore’s chagrin, there was absolutely nothing found. In fact, the ship seemed quite empty. The first mate gave them full access to practically everything on the ship, including the captain’s cabin. There was really nothing out of the ordinary. The crew had mostly been hired here in Laishtek for a short trip—their next destination was Tidewater City and they would be transporting a large set of goods from there to the trade center at the mouth of the River of Spirits on Slyn. It appeared the captain didn’t like to keep a permanent crew, but this was not an unusual state of affairs for a large ship.

“And where is the captain?” asked Knight Franmore as they arrived back atop the deck.

“The captain enjoys her time landside. When we’re docked in port she stays at an inn. She’s staying at the Thirsty Sailor, just a few blocks from the docks, but it being the last day, really, she’ll likely be at the market. But if you want to inquire after her, Sarah Jorgensen. I’m sure she would be accommodating. We had heard of the theft of the skyship crystals, but they are not here. I wish you luck in finding them, though.”

There was no reason to stay. There was nothing to find. They did check in at the Thirsty Sailor, but Sarah and her valet had already left, though she was checked in for the next night, too. The Adder Invictus had turned out to be a dead end, from all appearances. Knight Franmore was frustrated, but there were other matters to attend to. Several of the city watch stayed to observe the ship, and the rest returned to the precinct, where the Knight acolytes were preparing the prisoners for transport to the Knight’s chapterhouse. Hopefully the interrogation of these cult members would lead to some more clues.

Amara, Virgun, and Belim were all brought out in chains. Amara’s look was one of pure disgust when she saw the party. Her words were laced with venom. “I help you find the crystals, and this is the thanks I get?”

“You were overheard speaking to Mister Sandgrin, the cleric of the Dragon Queen,” said Khaska. “Your motives are less than pure, I’m afraid.”

“Whatever. I’ve done nothing but help since I found out about the crystals, and I’m treated as a common criminal! Belim and his cronies are the ones who did the stealing! I’ve helped you get them back!”

“This will all be sorted out I’m sure with Rider Lystria,” Knight Franmore said. “Now get in the cart.”

Belim and Virgun had been silent since they were brought out. According to the guards, they had been silent since their arrests. Azkabar was still inside the precinct. Apparently not a member of the cult, Rider Lystria did not request him to be brought. Jenika was seething, but Khaska placed a hand on her shoulder. “We will have time to talk to him later. He is not going anywhere.”

“You coming?” asked Knight Franmore, as one of the guards secured the prisoners in the barred cart for transport. The guard secured them all to the floor, and then locked the door itself. He moved to the front where he sat next to the driver. Belim and Amara’s hands had been bound tight, so they could not cast any spells. Not, thought Rynn, that an escape was much of an option, with five of the city watch and the five Knights, and then the party (Fan was still wearing the tunic of one of the city guards).

The cart wound its way through the crowded streets. The Knight’s chapterhouse, apparently, was near the central marketplace, and they needed to pass through a crowded square. Different merchants peddled their wares and potential buyers swarmed the place in these early morning hours. The cart had to move slowly as they pushed through the busy streets.

“Look out! Move!” Screams came up and the guards all turned towards the commotion. A runaway pair of horses and a carriage came barreling down a side street, scattering most people, but running over those unfortunate enough to not be able to move out of the way. Jenika saw it first and dove out of the way as it careened through the marketplace … right into the prisoner transport.

The poor horses smashed directly into the side of the barred carriage, cracking wood and sending splinters everywhere. Rynn, on the other side of the cart, ducked his head as his face was sprayed with little shards from the cart. He glanced up just in time to see the back door open and Amara jump out. “Hey!” He drew his sword and began to charge towards her. He was only able to take two steps before the cart exploded in fire. He heard a pair of shrieks from inside and was knocked slightly askew by the force of the blast.

When he turned back, Amara had disappeared into the crowd.

Clenching his fist, Rynn turned back to the cart. The fire was raging hotly. Whoever was inside was likely dead. The horses from the crashed cart were also dead, having smashed directly into the prisoner transport before it exploded. The horses for the transport were trying to get away from the burning cart behind them, but it was crushed and its wheels would not turn, forcing them to drag it along, further damaging it. Around him screams and shouts rose up—the crowd of people in the marketplace running away from the site of the . . . what? Attack? Violence? Trap? Prisoner escape? What was going on?

“Is everybody okay?” He asked, glancing around to see who had been injured. The driver lay on the ground, clutching his arm, a large scrape on his head. The other who had been sitting up front . . . there, lying on the ground, was the tunic of a city watchman. Rynn crouched down and grabbed it off the ground. “What?” He held it up.

Khaska was there, trying to help the driver up. The cleric saw the tunic and glanced around. “Where’s the other guard?” he cried out.

“There he goes!” said Jenika. “He’s escaping.” Without a moment’s hesitation the ranger vaulted from his crouching position and lunged after him, Ranna not a moment behind, teeth bared. Jenika sprinted after them as well just as one of the paladins cut the horses free of the burning cart. The horses were quickly taken and calmed by others of the city watch, but in the commotion Rynn and Jenika were the only ones who chased down the fleeing guard.

Khaska hesitated, seeing his friends rush off, but then decided to see if he could lend a hand with the injuries. The driver’s arm was broken and one of the guards who had been towards the back of the carriage was slightly singed from the explosion. A nearby shopkeeper had been injured by flying wood, but really aside from Virgun and Belim, there were no serious injuries.

They, however, were dead.

“They were targeting the prisoners,” said Knight Franmore.

“Amara escaped first,” said Khaska. “Then the cart exploded. What could that have been?”

“Some fire spell? I’m not sure. Where did your companions go?”

“Chasing after the guard.”

“The guard?” Khaska quickly explained that one of the guards had dropped his tunic and escaped into the crowd. Franmore’s lips went tight around her mouth, and she slammed her sword back into its sheathe. “We’ve been played. Rider Lystria will be disappointed.”

“Was this planned, then?” Khaska asked. But it was then that Khaska noticed Fan, standing off to the side, hands at her mouth and tears streaming down her face. Without a moment’s hesitation he left Knight Franmore and moved over to the bard.

“Were you injured?” he asked.

Fan shook her head, but didn’t speak, her eyes fixated on the scene of carnage before her. She finally spoke, but did not answer the question. “That's odd that the horses crashed into the cart like that. Usually horses are intelligent enough to swerve or jump, they won't willingly charge into things.” Fan chewed the inside of her lip for a moment. “Unless of course they are highly trained military horses. But then, what are war horses doing hauling a carriage? No self-respecting soldier would do that to his horse on purpose.”

“Where is the driver of the other carriage?” asked Khaska, almost rhetorically. “And horses can be forced to do many things, or spoked into it.”

“Still. It seems. Well, it's all in the epic ballad Ode to a War Horse, written a couple of hundred years ago by the famous Slynian poet Tarafa, who died young. I have the whole thing memorized. I can recite it for you now if you'd like. There are some really good bits in it about how he escapes from…"

But by then Khaska had located the driver of the other carriage and he left Fan to her shocked babblings. The poor man had been thrown into the transport and now lay underneath some of the burning wood and between the dead horses. Buckets of water were being thrown on the fire, and Khaska reached a hand in and gave a small prayer, invoking a healing spell to stabilize the unconscious man. “Help me!” he asked.

Two of the paladins immediately responded, helping to pull the poor man out from the wreckage caused by his horses. His face was badly scratched and it looked like his nose was broken. His clothing was singed from the explosion. He was alive, but barely so, and Khaska’s brief spell had helped stabilize him. He would survive.

Franmore was quizzing the guards. Khaska caught the end of her interrogation.

“Ma’am, I don’t know where Joss would have gone. It’s not like him to abandon his post, but I don’t know him that well. He’s always been a bit of a loner.”

“Then,” said Khaska, “you should have your superiors on the lookout for him. In case he escapes from my friends. Tell me, since I was sadly not paying attention, what does he look like?”

Fan was still staring in shock at the scene, but as the city watchman began to talk, she sidled over to listen.

----------------------------------------

As Rynn rushed after the city watchman he was only vaguely aware of Jenika pounding after him. The man glanced back once to see Rynn, then blanched at something in the ranger’s face and continued to press through the crowd.

The man was clever, Rynn had to give him that. However, over the next ten minutes, and despite the man’s head start, Rynn, Jenika, and Ranna (tracking the scent from the tunic) were able to keep up with him. The chase was thrilling to the ranger. Here was work he could do! They finally caught up to him as he was casually strolling down a side street, having acquired a backpack at some point.

Jenika blindsided him and bowled him over, tripping the city watchman and knocking him into a wall. Rynn distinctly heard the clinking of coinage from the man’s backpack. Rynn came next, sword drawn and Ranna was next to him, teeth bared and growling low.

“Look, man! They paid me to not chain her to the cart! I’ll give you half if you’ll just let me go!” He glanced over at Jenika. “Okay, two-thirds, so we each get our fair share! That’s like a hundred gold each! And I can get more! I’ll get the other half tonight, on my way out of the city! They promised!”

“If money could persuade me, then I'd just kill you and take it all," Rynn growled at the man. He pointed his sword at the poor guard. "You only have one option. Surrender. You will be taken back to the Knights where you will tell us everything you know. If you're lucky, they'll be merciful and your assistance will make up for your crimes.”

The man looked from Rynn to Jenika, who was leaning over him, face serious, hands up and raised, fists balled, to Ranna, who was still growling, teeth bared, then back to Rynn. Rynn took a step forward and lifted his sword as if to swing—he was only planning on using the flat of his blade, but that was enough.

“Okay! Okay! I surrender!”

Rynn pulled out the rope from his haversack and tied the man up. Jenika grabbed the man’s backpack.

“Heavier than I thought,” she said. Clinking could be heard coming from it.

“It’s evidence. Let’s take it back.”

----------------------------------------

Back at the site of the crash, Khaska was quickly reviewing what had happened, and where Amara might go. There was really only one place he could think of . . . the ship.

“Sir Franmore,” he said, catching the paladin’s attention, “I believe that Amara might have run to the Adder Invictus. Pursuing her there will give us our best chance at apprehending her.”

“You think it’s our best bet?”

The cleric nodded. “It was scheduled to leave soon. Tomorrow. If Amara has been in contact with them, and we know she has, it seems a likely place for her to make her escape.”

Fan seemed to have gotten a hold of herself. “It’s the only place we know of, really,” she said. “At this point, I doubt she will go back to the inn.”

Franmore looked at the situation. The flames had died down and the guards were inspecting the wreckage. Belim and Virgun were indeed dead. Franmore’s hand was on her sword, tightly gripping the hilt, squeezing the leather so tight it could be heard by those nearby.

“Let’s go! Knights, with me. Guards . . .” and more city watchmen had arrived since Amara’s escape, “it looks like you have things under control here.” With that, they left.

Knight Franmore set a hard pace, but Khaska kept up easily with her. It was Fan, unencumbered by armor, that wanted to push ahead. Just as they arrived at the docks Rynn and Jenika came rushing up.

“We caught the guard and left him with the other city watchmen,” said the ranger. “He was paid to leave Amara unchained, and confessed to the other guards. We’ve got him. They said you were going after Amara?”

“We think she’s headed for the ship,” Fan said, still looking straight ahead.

“You seem rather intense about this,” Jenika said to her.

“Don’t appreciate being made a fool of. Amara’s made a fool of us.”

“I cannot disagree with your assessment, though it pains me,” said Khaska.

They arrived at the docks just a few minutes later and were at the ramp leading up to the Adder Invictus a few minutes after that. The first mate was surprised upon seeing them, and he came to the edge of the ship before they got onto the ramp itself.

“Can I help you? Your inspection this morning was sufficient, was it not? And your men have been here the entire time, keeping an eye on the ship.”

There were two city watchmen by the ramp, and one of them shrugged. “It’s true. Just crew coming on since this morning. We’ve been checking them as they embarked, though. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“I’d really rather not let you on again,” the first mate said. “We cooperated this morning, but this is unjustified harassment. Captain Jorgensen will be informed when she returns, and I’m sure she won’t take kindly to this.”

Fan was chewing a piece of her hair. She was embarrassed by the fact that she had frozen earlier, and was hoping to make up for it somehow. She watch as the first mate and the paladins argued back and forth. A young lady was walking by, holding a basket of apples. Fan distinctly hear the clinking of metal, but that puzzled her because the young lady didn’t appear to have any metal on her.

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Rynn knelt down by Ranna. “Find Amara, girl! Find Kirza!” He stood up as the wolf began to sniff. “If she’s been here, Ranna can find her . . .” He stopped as the wolf ran right over to the stranger Fan had been watching and began to growl and whine, running in circles right behind her. Rynn’s brow furrowed. “What is it, girl?”

Fan’s mouth dropped and she took an involuntary step back. “It’s her! It’s Amara!” Her cover blown—somehow she was fully disguised as someone else—Amara began to run. But Fan had had enough of this. Perhaps foolishly, the bard pulled out her rapier and struck at the sorceress. She managed to strike, drawing blood, but the thrust was quick and ill-aimed, not doing much damage.

Rynn drew an arrow and nocked it, now being able to see the disguise for what it was. “Amara! I don't know what you've gotten yourself into, or why you're doing it. But you must now surrender! I don't want to have to put you down.” Rynn’s mind wandered for a moment back to Adam. Had Amara fallen so far? What had happened to her? Would he really need to put her down? The sky was darkening, mirroring his mood.

“After her!” Knight Franmore ordered. The other Knights drew their weapons and began to run after her. “Stop! You are under arrest . . .” But Amara was bolting, panicking, running away from them . . . towards the end of the docks. Fan and Jenika were both pursuing her.

There was a flash of light and a bolt of energy flew past all of them, colliding with Fan, whose body lit up with electricity, but the arc of energy immediately jumped to Knight Franmore, and from there to Rynn, and from there to one of the city watchmen, who collapsed to the dock instantly. The lightning played across Rynn’s sword and he felt the burning as its power coursed through his body. Knight Franmore grunted and dropped to one knee, and Fan simply fell in a heap. Amara stopped and turned, shocked, but then smiled, looking past everybody as the peals of light thunder dissipated.

Khaska had originally positioned himself by the ramp to the ship, in case Amara had decided to make a break for the Adder Invictus. When she had begun to run he had moved that direction, but recognized that in his armor he would not catch up to her. Now he turned. And there, about at the back of the ship, were two newcomers. They had not been there moments before.

“I would like Amara to come with us,” said one of them, a woman. “I had hoped to avoid such a direct confrontation, but her friends are more persistent than even I was led to believe.” She was dressed in a long, flowing robe, the hood drawn over her face. Next to her was an older elf, bald in the middle of his head with long gray hair coming down to his shoulders. The woman drew back her hood. She was human, with black hair . . . no, it wasn’t black. It was dark green. Khaska then noticed that her eyes were slightly yellow, and there were green scales going up her neck. Rynn recognized her from Godfrey’s ship, she was one of the ones that had come with the group to take the crystals. “If you wish to fight, I’m sure you will lose.” She stood there, confidently, while the elf at her side raised his hands. “My associate and I will make short work of you all.” The she glanced up at the first mate. “Prepare the ship for departure.”

The first mate nodded. “Yes, Captain. Do you need . . .”

“Thank you, but we don’t need assistance. We’ll be aboard shortly. Just get the ship ready.” He smiled and then nodded and moved away from the railing, barking orders.

The woman turned back to those who had been pursuing Amara, all of whom had stopped after the spell had been cast. There were five Knights, one (conscious) city watchmen, and the members of the party. Eight remaining combatants. Ten in all, counting those who had been knocked unconscious by the spell. The woman folded her arms and continued to speak.

“Those who actually arranged to have the crystals stolen did so against my better judgment. We made sure that you could find them, as a show of good faith. There’s no need for further violence. We would just like to go now.”

“You don’t have to kill them!” Amara voice rang out, yelling across the distance. “We were friends, once. And they have been useful to me!” The sound of the sorceress’ voice was odd. It appeared to be coming from both Amara and from the two people at the back of the ship. The green-haired woman scowled. “To us, I mean. Let us spare them one last time, and may they pray we never meet again.”

The dragon-scaled green-haired woman smiled, a broad, slightly unnatural smile that showed her fangs. Just then, it began to rain lightly. “Your move.”

Rynn’s knuckles turned white as he gripped his bow tighter. This cult seemed to always be two steps ahead of everybody. And just moments ago he had thought that he and his allies were getting the better of these dragon-worshippers. He brought his bow up ever so slightly and exhaled slowly, considering his options. He could fire at these two newcomers, but that seemed futile. He might even be able to fire at Amara, possibly kill her . . . but to what end? To spite these cultists just so he and all his allies would die?

He glanced back at Khaska, who was glancing at the ramp to the ship and up and down the dock, clearly looking for some way to turn the situation to their advantage. But there was none. The Maha’i straightened to his full height and glanced at Rynn, and gave a short nod, dropping his hands to his side. The cleric stood ramrod straight, glaring at the green-haired woman.

Adam’s face flashed into Rynn’s mind. Amara needed to be put down, but not right now. Not at the cost it would require.

Disgusted, Rynn threw down his bow. It and the arrow clattered to the dock.

“You must be Gulnith then; am I right?”

The green-haired woman smiled, and nodded.

“A false name, then, Captain Jorgensen?” Knight Franmore said.

She smiled again. “Surely you would not begrudge me some anonymity. Hard enough to come by with my draconic heritage,” she said as she stroked the green scales along her neck with her long black fingernails.

Rynn stepped forwad. “Go ahead and leave for all I care—I am neither Knight nor city guard. But tell me, where are the other crystals you stole?” With that, he folded his arms, mirroring her stance.

“You’ll see shortly,” Gulnith said. She looked over the gathered soldiers and Knights at Amara. “Come, Amara.”

Jenika stepped aside as Amara smirked at her. The monk wanted desperately to punch the devious sorceress in her face, but Rynn was right. Even Knight Franmore was sheathing her sword, indicating to the other Knights to do the same. Khaska knelt down to heal the guard that had fallen at the bottom of the ramp. The man was healed instantly, bounding to his feet and partially drawing his sword, when Khaska restrained him and whispered something in his ear. He relaxed, and they stepped to the other side of the dock. Gulnith and her assistant waited for Amara just at the base of the ramp. The sorceress came quickly. Kirza flapped down and landed on her shoulder just as she arrived. Behind the trio of villains the deck of the ship was alive with movement. Ropes were being cast off as they prepared to get underway. The first mate came down the ramp and Gulnith handed over her satchel to him.

Rynn and Khaska’s stares could easily have bored holes through a lesser mortal. But Amara simply held her head high.

“In time the work of evil is e’er o’erthrown,” Khaska muttered, just loud enough for Amara to hear. She shrugged, remaining as Gulnith and her friend ascended the ramp.

“That remains to be seen,” said Amara. “I joined the Cult of Skyrnyn back in Hammerdine, and I was glad to have helped them out here. For your aid and friendship these past months, I have requested you be left alive. Take that consolation and go. You would be wise to leave us alone.” With that, she turned and walked up the ramp, which the sailors quickly pulled up onto the ship. Jenika walked up holding the limp form of Fan, who Khaska immediately went to heal.

The first mate barked an order and with a lurch the ship began to rise. Rynn gripped the handle of his sword tightly. They were using skyship crystals.

“We finally have enough crystals to raise our ship!” Gulnith yelled down. “You will be unable to follow us, even if you wanted!”

“Don’t try to track us!” Amara warned a last time. “Next time, we won’t hold back.”

The ship was rising slowly, but surely. With the rain it disappeared into the sky within a minute, leaving them standing in the rain on the dock.

Knight Franmore turned and snapped at one of the other paladins. “Quick! Rider Lystria may be able to catch them if we tell her quickly! Go!” The man saluted and hustled off.

Rynn’s smile was grim. He was about to suggest that very thing, but recognized that tracking a skyship in this weather would be difficult, even for a dragonrider. Still, the thought of Khalisara and Rider Lystria obliterating the ship was a pleasant one to his mind. At least Franmore was doing something. The ranger was underwhelmed with her performance so far.

He turned back to look at Jenika, Fan, and Khaska, but it was then that he noticed that Fan was still on the docks, limp and soaked in the rain. Khaska was kneeling by her, and the Maha’i looked up at Rynn.

“She has made the journey to her ancestors,” he said simply.

Rynn’s heart fell. Jenika was holding her arms tightly around herself. Knight Franmore gasped, but then brought her hand to her heart and gave a small bow, saying a prayer under her breath.

Already kneeling by her body, Khaska looked to the heavens for a moment, offering up a short personal prayer, but then inched forward and placed his hands on Fan’s feet. The prayer came easier to him than it had back in that small village just north of the Niktean Wastes. He was already familiar with the changes he would have to make for it to be adapted for a human, but he still spoke in Maha’i, aware that Fan would have understood.

“May your feet never know injury from the road,

“May your knees never know the strain of steps,

“May your legs never tire from the journey,

“May your stomach never know the pains of hunger,

“May your chest never know breathlessness or cramp,

“May your shoulders never droop under the yoke,

“May your arms never know the limpness of decay,

“May your neck never fail to stand tall,

“May your mouth never thirst for water or kind word,

“May your nose never sense stench,

“May your ears never hear crying or lamentation,

“May your eyes never know darkness,

“And may Markus conduct you into the everlasting hills,

“And may you there never know aught but happiness.”

He then knelt forward, touching his nose to the dock, and whispered the final benediction.

He rose to his feet, his heart as heavy as the armor around him. He looked at the others, the remaining Knights and his two friends. “What shall we do now?” he asked. He was vaguely aware of a small crowd of people gathering.

Rynn had been staring off into space, still looking at the last place they had been able to see the Adder Invictus before it had vanished into the low clouds. The storm was growing worse, but the ranger was unmoved by the rain whipping into his face. “I need some time by myself. I’ve got to get out of this city. But I haven’t forgotten my promises—I will help you on your quests. It’s just . . . I don’t know what to think anymore. I just need a little time.” At this, he finally stopped staring and turned towards Jenika and Khaska. “I’ll meet you back at the inn in a few days.” He reached out to embrace the cleric. Khaska still found this custom slightly strange, but he wrapped his arms around the ranger. Jenika, despite their bad experience two nights previously, also gave Rynn a small hug, but then Rynn and Ranna walked off into the rain towards the end of the dock, disappearing before they got too far and the rain increased in intensity. Jenika hoisted up Fan’s body. “Is there a place we can leave her body while I investigate where she may have come from?” asked Khaska. “Her family should be told of her bravery, and her passing.”

There was a local morgue where they could keep her body for a day or two, but no longer. Khaska knew that there were spells he could cast to prevent the body from decaying, which may also be of use.

As they reached the edge of the dock a wave a fear washed over them, a similarly debilitating feeling as they had encountered with the fey panther attack. The sky blackened for a moment as the serpentine shape of Khalisara swooped down low over the docks, flapping his giant wings, Rider Lystria hunkered down against the rain. The fear lasted only a moment since the dragon was moving so quickly, not leaving even enough time to react before he and his rider were gone.

Rynn, sitting at the edge of the dock, wrapped in his cloak with Ranna, also felt the dragonfear and watched as the great dragon swept skyward. He grimly smiled. He doubted they would be able to find the ship . . . too much time had passed and the weather was atrocious for tracking a skyship, but he held out a small degree of hope.

Khaska reached the city watch precinct with Knight Franmore, but the paladin immediately left to go back to her chapterhouse and make a more full report. Jenika had broken off with Fan and one of the other Knights to take her body to the morgue. Joss, the rogue city watchman, was chained up in a cell, and was being questioned by the precinct captain, a dwarf in no mood for games. Khaska was led inside, where he had questions of his own.

“Did you know Amara before she paid you?” the cleric began.

“Amara? Who’s that?”

“The woman you let free.”

“Ah, with the white hair? I didn’t know who she was. I just had an interested party pay me a handsome fee to leave her unchained to the cart and give her a ring.”

“Ring?” asked Khaska.

“Mister Khaska,” said the precinct captain, “we’ve already been over this with him.”

“I would hear it myself,” Khaska responded. “This man let Amara escape, and a friend of mine has died because of it.”

“Dead?” Joss was genuinely alarmed. “Now, I had nothin’ to do with any of that!”

“Tell me of the ring.”

“Gold ring. Some symbol on it.”

A suspicion descended over Khaska. He turned to the captain. “Are Amara’s things still here?” The dwarf nodded. “She may have a similar ring.”

Indeed it was. The symbol on the ring of Amara’s was the same, at least Joss thought so, of the ring he was instructed to give her.

“It is a symbol of this cult. Do you know of Skyrnyn? Gulnith?” asked Khaska.

“I don’t know who that is. I just got a hefty sum from a freaky lady with green hair and was told to keep the white-haired one free and that they would take care of providing the opportunity for escape. When that happened, to avoid questions, I was to run, and get out of the city.”

“And there was more money to be collected on your way out?”

“Yes.” Khaska was unamused.

“Why are you being so cooperative?”

Joss shrugged. “Because you got me. I’ve been a city watchmen enough to know that you cooperate, sometimes they go easier on you. Better than clamming up. Captain Redale here will throw the book at me if I do that!”

Captain Redale said something in dwarven, a harsh guttural sounding phrase. Joss laughed. “See!”

“And how, Joss, were you to get the extra money?” asked the captain.

“I’ll only tell you that if you promise to go easy on my sentence.” There was some haggling about that, but eventually the captain gave in and said he would do what he could.

“Some laundry lady, name of Irina Heppler, had the rest of my money. I was to meet her at a specific place, then get out of town. But she’s probably gone now. It didn’t sound like she would sit around waiting for me for hours on end.”

“And what was your plan after that?” asked Captain Redale.

“Plan? I’d have like six hundred gold! Go set up somewhere! I hear Cyriest is a nice place, on the edge of Lake Bellissimo, right smack in the middle of the Tlerian empire? Nice place for someone like me to disappear. Lots of trade, yet pretty stable. Get some women, some wine, find work on a ship, much safer on the lake than on the oceans, and I got me some sailing experience. Be a nice life.”

“Well, your nice life cost us the lives of two highly-prominent prisoners as well as the death of one of this man’s friends,” Captain Redale motioned towards Khaska.

Khaska stood. “Greed bores a hole in one’s heart that gold can never fill.” He was done. He left as Captain Redale finished up. The dwarf came out a few minutes later.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” he said. “We’ll try to find this Irina Heppler. Normally I wouldn’t, but you can come along when we go to interrogate her. Your friends, too.”

“That is most kind of you,” said Khaska. “Now I have to return to my inn. I must find where my friend was from. We only had known each other a short time, and I must try to find where her body should be taken for its final resting place.”

Jenika arrived back at the inn after Khaska, but took her dinner and immediately disappeared upstairs. Khaska understood her desire to be alone. He sympathized with it, but the fact remained that she and Rynn were not going to be of much use for a day or two. With resignation, he told the innkeeper what had transpired. The plump Halfling woman was deeply sympathetic, and gave him the master key to both Amara’s room and Fan’s room.

Unsurprisingly, Amara’s room had little in it. The sorceress’s things had been confiscated, and the group had been given them now that she was gone. Fan’s things were hastily thrown down. She wasn’t one for tidiness, or had been in a rush. Her nyckelharpa was in the corner, and Khaska was reminded of her skills as a bard. She had not wanted to disclose her last name for some reason, and that thought made him ponder anew the possibility that he might not find anything to help identify her.

Inside her haversack he found various odds and ends, but one was a red, leatherbound book. He hesitated a moment, but then opened it. Any secrets Fan kept would be his alone, but if he could find her loved ones, if she even had loved ones, he needed to investigate.

The red book was her diary, and he flipped to the end. The last entry contained everything he needed to know.

> Dear Diary,

>

> After several failed attempts, I have finally insinuated myself into a group with the intent of making a “name for myself.” Which is stupid, anyway, and I'm only doing it because my mom is making me. I mean the whole “search for fame” thing is dumb. The people in the group are actually kind of cool.

>

> That one guy, Jeremy who I wrote about before, was hitting on other women, too, not just me. The only other girl in the group was the victim of his nefarious advances. Things were about to get really ugly when I used the ol' nykelharpa charm to make Jeremy go back to his ship. So I kind of saved them, because I'm awesome. If only my mom would let me use my awesomeness to open a magic shop instead of tramping through the wilds! Is awesomeness a word? I suppose it is now.

>

> So in the group I've sort of joined, there is this guy Rynn. He's a ranger, just like Yargast the Weary from The Ballad of Yargast and Drenoddah. He even travels with a wolf, just like Yargast did! Her name's Ranna. I kind of want to pet her and give her treats, but I'm afraid that she might bite me if I try. I like how self-assured he is; that kind of makes him like the Leader of the group, if there was one, which there isn't. I think I may be in danger of developing a crush on Rynn. The way he talks is just how I always imagined Yargast would sound. I only wish he would bathe more often. He's probably too old for me, anyway, and I'm no Drenoddah. Sigh.

>

> Then there's Jenika, a monk. I really admire her. I can't help but think she's the kind of daughter that my mom wishes she had – brave, adventurous, a “Lily of Steel.” I can totally imagine her storming the gates of Grondmar's castle single-handed. I think there is much I can learn from her.

>

> Khaska is a Maha’i from the Wastes, The Land of my Childhood. Well, early childhood, anyway. I was six when we left. He seems a bit more put-offish than the Shaddhi, but that’s okay. It’s nice to be able to speak Maha’i to him. I think mine is pretty rusty, but he seemed polite enough about it.

>

> They have this friend, Amara, who used to be part of their group but isn't any more. Her name is Amara and I really don't like her at all. She seems snooty and stuck up. It's probably because there was that one character in The Song of Trenyr named Amara. Man, I had so many nightmares after Dad told me that story! So far she's living up to her namesake totally betrayed us all today. It's like this: She's been working with this cult and we managed to track them down and find some skyship crystals they stole. They didn’t want Amara to know that I was joining them, so I was disguised most of the day in the tunic of a city watchperson, but tonight we set a trap for the cult members and caught them in their nefarious deeds! They arrested several of them, and it was my knowledge of draconic that helped get one of them put away. I'm glad I decided to learn Draconic, but I really should have learned Elven, too . . . but that's neither here nor there. Anyway, I don’t think the one guy was actually a cult member, but he was in cahoots with them, that’s for sure!

>

> So I’m really excited. I'm a bit nervous about some of the stuff the others want to do—they want me to act as a double agent. In all the songs, double agents die at the end. I can't very well set up my magic shop if I'm dead, can I? And what would little Yehoshua say if I never came back? I hope he's doing ok – no one from the family ever contacted me after that last message. But they'd say something, wouldn’t they, if things weren't all well at home?

>

> But I digress. I think this group will be good for me. What I mean is, I think this will be a good way to prove myself. Maybe if we can stop this cult then I can finally get enough renown or money or whatever will satisfy Mom. I’ve never wanted to be heroic, but she went on and on about, “The daughter of Theodard and Leanda Ravenstone needs to prove herself!” Whatever. They should have sent Orthan, he's been dying to get out into the real world since he was three. It's silly that I'm the one out here, and he's home in Pemmagadhra babysitting the chickens.

>

> We're on the cusp of something really interesting, I can feel it. I hope I will get home, soon. Until then, I'll just carry on and do my best, just like Dad always said I should.

The Ravenstones. Even a Maha’i as ill-informed of the goings-on outside the Niktean Wastes as Khaska had heard of them. He grimaced. There had been stories about the Shaddhi clan all his life, how loose they were with the traditions of their people. But now he knew of her family, and where they would be. Pemmagadhra. He smiled. Her family would know of her bravery and her sacrifice. Perhaps he could get Godfrey to aid in taking her body to her family, whether as a stand-alone trip or something else. Satisfied with his investigation, he returned to his room to pray to Teresh, a prayer for the repose of the newly departed, and fell asleep.