Cold air drifted through the vents of the rocky cavern, raising goose flesh all over Felderon's sweat-soaked back and neck.

Cylene shivered beneath his coat. The night was upon them and temperatures would be dropping with the sun.

At once, a faint thumping sound came from the deep interior of the cavern, repeating at regular intervals.

"Do you hear that?"

Thump.

Cylene cocked her head. "What?"

Thump.

"That."

Thump.

"Uh-oh."

Deep from within the gloom of the cavern, something stirred--or someone.

Gradually, a slight, stooped figure emerged from the darkness.

Felderon stared at the unlikely old man, walking by aid of a staff, or perhaps it was just a stick. He was shabbily dressed, and had something in his mouth, as though he were just finishing a meal.

"Confound me--the old goat lives back in there." Felderon whispered in Cylene's ear.

"Shhhh. He'll hear you."

The old man stopped a little bit apart and stared, his black eyes observing. "I don't get many visitors, certainly not of your sort."

"We don't mean to intrude. I'll be honest. You'll be getting more. Hundreds of refugees are filling the shores with nowhere to go. A siege is upon us!"

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"Only the Chalbeams have the navy for such endeavors. Dare they break the Three Kingdom Covenant?"

"They dare," Cylene said.

"The Chalbeams are ambitious," the old man said. "But Renada's king is strong."

"It appears," Felderon whispered, "the king's strength is a cracked facade."

The old man's face sharpened to an inconvenience. "You are of the Chalbeams, are you not? Your accent is of the south."

Felderon's froze and his reply fell woodenly from his lips. "I have no country."

The wrinkles of the old man's wisened face deepened into a curve, not quite a smile. "Ahh. No country. No country--but that won't do. Such a fine man--you must have a home, and if not, a new home will have you."

"I've no occasion for warming my feet at home and hearth now. War has come, and I am bound by oath to find the Sage of the Sun."

"Ahhh. The Sage of the Sun...the Sage of the Sun...He is among the Chalbeams in the south. How will you go if the siege is upon us, as you say?"

"Up river--if I can escape the inland armies."

"You can go upriver from here--far upriver. This cavern turns underground, and connects to the catacombs beneath below the capital, mingling with an underground tributary to the Della River. It is the best possible course for you.

Felderon hesitated. "I have never heard of such a course."

A shadow crossed the old man's face, and in the darkness, it was impossible to see him smile, but Felderon could hear it. "It is a well kept secret."

"Why should it be secret, old man?"

"The nature of a cave is to be secretive. I have but protected it's nature."

"Well, I cannot pay any tolls now, but I can promise you with an oath to send you payment when I reach my destination. Who are you?"

The old man hesitated. "I will not ask you for payment if you will not ask me my name."

"Bollucks! I must therefore assume you intend to extort payment unasked."

"So cynical young man! Can I not do a good turn? Come with me. There is no one who knows these tunnels like I know them. If you go without my help, you will never make it through alive."

Felderon shifted. He did not trust the old man, but there was nowhere else to go. "Cylene, I cannot ask you to go with me."

Cylene ground her teeth. "If you're going to find the Sage of the Sun, I am coming with you."

"Reconsider."

The tendon in Cylene's neck tightened. "What else am I supposed to do? What can be worse than what I have already seen in the mirror?"

Felderon sighed. "You make a fair point."

"Old men have no time for wasting," the old hermit said. "Either come with me, or be on your own way. I have my own business with the Sage of the Sun."

Felderon set his jaw and climbed to his feet. He thrust out his hand for Cylene, who reached out and clasped it. "We have seen the darkness, and this cave is no more a nightmare than the darkness inside of myself.”