“Talk?” Katja asked, startled to hear that the wordling had anything in particular to say to her. “What about?”

“I was just wondering… do you think you’re prepared to take over? You know, if something should happen to Gell.”

“What? Take over what? What would happen?”

Sarai smiled cloyingly. “Never can be sure.”

Fortunately for Katja, she was bailed out of the need to comment by a thundering crash that barreled their way through the trees. “Halloo!” the crash thundered, “where’d y’all get to?”

Katja relaxed a bit; not only was she off the hook having to answer Sarai’s questions, but she also wasn’t about to get trampled by a stampeding wildebeest the way she thought. Gell crashed over to them merrily.

“Well, there’s my two favourite girls now. Hey, what’s with the long faces? Somethin’ going on I oughtta know about?”

“Just startled, that’s all,” Katja lied.

Sarai was less inoffensive. “You sounded like a rabid boar, Gell. Maybe you could learn a thing or two about stealth sometime?”

“A boar? And rabid, to boot? Aww, that’s the sweetest thing you ever said to me, darlin’. Anyhoo, we better get a wiggle on. Time’s a-wastin’, and I don’t reckon our missing stone’s like to track itself down while we all stand here seein’ who can be the most sarcastic-like.”

And so our three heroes headed off into the wilderness yet again, following the trail Katja had set them on. The stone they thought they’d recovered after their strange adventure in the Renstone Fields was the singular purpose behind their recent expedition; Katja’s conclusion was that, since neither Gell nor Sarai detected any disturbance in the flow, the stone wasn’t taken by the mages. Therefore, she figured, it must have been taken by a compatriot of Carmine’s, and was probably headed toward the Temple of the Hand. It seemed like an excellent plan, but there was one troublesome element.

“Hey, Katja darlin’, you sure you know where we’re goin’? Kinda startin’ to seem like we’re just wanderin’ around aimless-like.”

“We’re tracking a cult of thieves and assassins, Gell. They don’t exactly make their whereabouts a matter of public record.”

“So how do you know about them?”

“I’m a thief myself, Gell. One hears stories. Rumours. If one’s any good, one learns to sift through it and find the truth.”

“And?”

“We’ll see.”

Gell shrugged. “Still and all, it’ll be nice to get to meet these Hand folks finally. Maybe they’ll even tell me why they’re always givin’ me a hard time.”

“You expect they’ll welcome you with open arms? ‘Oh, hi, Gell! Glad you could make it! Care for some tea?’ They want you dead. For revenge. Remember?”

“Sure. Just sayin’, be nice if maybe I didn’t have to mow ’em down. Like maybe they don’t all want to kill me.”

“It’s a cult, Gell. Was the Brotherhood of Purity known for stunning diversity of viewpoints? Or did they all pretty much do what they were told?”

Gell winced; Katja’s barb had hit home. “Just sayin,” he muttered. “Would be nice.”

The trek through the wilderness continued, as the ground became more and more uneven. Clearly they were headed into the Grey Mountains. The Grey Mountains, called colloquially by some “the spine of the Earth,” stretched from the heart of civilisation, where they formed roughly the eastern edge of known territory, all the way south to the end of the charted world, and then kept right on going. Nobody really knew how long the range ran for, though some folks believed they extended all the way to the end of creation. What lay beyond those peaks to the east none could say with any certainty; if one were to believe the tales, all manner of mythical beasts were to be found there, from centaurs and giants to real live dragons. Gell, being more of a sensible sort, didn’t place any stock in these ideas. His belief was that the world on the other side of the mountains was probably pretty similar to the world on this side, only very likely, since there were no Puritans there, the ordinary people were entirely subjugated by unchecked wizards. The thought of it made Gell a little bit angry, and he made a mental note that, if they survived their current adventure, he’d have to head over there and teach some of those hypothetical wizards a hypothetical thing or two.

Their current path was definitely leading them up into the mountains, and, before long, they’d left the trees behind them entirely as they made their way up a fairly treacherous rocky incline. To make matters even less travel-friendly, as they began to navigate their way upward through the challenging environment, it began to rain.

“Hey, reckon we should look for a place to camp out,” Gell cautioned. “Ain’t gonna be such a keen idea to keep climbin’ this damn hill of the footin’ gets much more lousy.”

“I’ll go look for a cave!” Sarai chirped, and zoomed on ahead of them, leaving Gell and Katja, neither of whom could fly, to continue dragging themselves up the wet stones.

Gell chuckled. “She’s a chipper one, ain’t she?”

“So Gell,” Katja asked, apropos of not a whole lot, “what’s the plan anyhow when you find all the stones? I don’t think you’ve ever told me; it’s always just been about trying to beat the College to them.”

“Don’t rightly know, to tell the truth. Reckon Sarai has more of an idea’n I do. I’m really just keen to keep ’em away from those magicky goons, m’self.”

“You don’t want to use them for yourself?”

“Nah. Ain’t really my style, you know, magic and all. I prefer gettin’ things done with my good ol’ fists. And Saturnine here, of course.” He grinned goofily.

Just then, Sarai reappeared. “Hey guys! I found a cave! It’s nice and dry and there probably aren’t even any monsters in it!”

“Probably?” Katja asked.

“Well, some monsters are invisible. Follow me!” Sarai flickered back up the trail, followed by Katja and the chuckling Gell.

The cave was certainly drier than the outside, as the rain had escalated into a regular deluge by this time. Gell had built a fire, and he and Katja sat around it, warming themselves and drying their soaked clothing. Sarai sat on Gell’s shoulder, impatiently kicking her feet back and forth.

“How long is this going to keep up?” she complained. “This sure would go faster if you guys could fly. Once I get all my powers back, remind me to fix that.”

“Flying?” Katja grinned, “Gell? Can you imagine it? Not exactly the most graceful image that comes to mind.”

Gell laughed. “I dunno, darlin’. Balloons fly, don’t they? Reckon I’m pretty much a balloon with a sword and a hat, hey? Flyin’ should come easy!”

They all laughed, both at Gell’s comment and at his humorous balloon impersonation, which basically inolved puffing his cheeks out and holding his arms out to his sides.

“Well,” Sarai said, flitting toward the cave entrance, “I hesitate to leave you two alone, after the things you got up to last time we were waiting out a storm in a cave, but I’m going to go do some scouting. Maybe I can get an idea of where we’re going.” Before anyone had a chance to respond, she was gone.

Gell smiled, stretched out on his back, and closed his eyes.

“Well, Gell,” Katja smirked, “since she brought it up, you think we should maybe take the opportunity to get up to things?”

“Could be, could be. But right now…” his brow furrowed a bit, and he paused. “Right now there’s somethin’ ain’t quite right.” He continued his study of the flow in silence.

Sarai flew along outside, darting to and fro along the mountain, amusing herself by dodging raindrops as she searched along for anything resembling a stronghold or a hideout. She didn’t figure it was likely that this temple would look much like what she’d recognise as a temple, since most temples she was familiar with weren’t home to cults of assassins. Well, not so far as she knew, anyhow.

She was deeply annoyed by this delay, and more than a bit embarrassed about what she was sure Gell and Katja were doing while she was away. Stupid biological people! Couldn’t they stay focused on the mission?

Just then, she felt Gell’s heart rate start to climb. They’re at it already, she thought, flushing deeply and trying to act like she didn’t notice anything. Whose benefit this act was for was unclear, since she wasn’t going to fool herself and there was nobody else around, but she persisted in it nonetheless. As Gell’s excitement grew, she flew on faster and faster, not really paying much attention to what she was doing, as she was too busy trying not to notice Gell’s condition. But there was nothing she could do; she felt his exertion, his excitement, building and building, and then, finally, she felt his excitement peak, and then his energy, spent, drain away until he lapsed into unconsciousness. That didn’t take very long, she thought, and then was immediately scandalised to have thought such a thing, redoubling her flight speed in an attempt to hide her shame amidst the rain.

A moment later, she suddenly stopped. Wait a minute, she thought, unconsciousness? That’s not right, is it? She hovered for a short while, thinking. She was pretty sure that unconsciousness was not the usual result of such activities. Should she go back and make sure? But what if it was just really satisfying this time? No! Don’t think that! She flushed with shame again, clenched her fists, and blinked herself back to the cave.

When she arrived, the cave was a wreck. The fuel for the fire had been scattered all around, as had their belongings. There was no sign of Gell or Katja anywhere. Sarai zoomed back and forth, looking for some clue as to what had gone on, but she couldn’t make anything out; she didn’t have Katja’s skill at reading tracks and signs, and she didn’t have Gell’s familiarity with chaos and destruction. All she could tell was that something had happened — something other than what she’d been expecting, that is — and Gell and Katja were gone.

Steeling herself, she took a deep breath, focused on Gell, and tried to locate him. He was clearly underground somewhere; had there been invisible monsters in the cave after all? No way to tell. So she did the only thing she could do — she blinked herself to Gell.

What a sight! Gell was unconscious, bound by his wrists and his ankles, upright, to a giant stone wheel. As if that weren’t enough, the wheel was affixed to the top of a black altar of some sort, perhaps a dais, that projected out precariously on a ledge above a glowing sea of flames. Flanking the obscene peninsula was a horde of men — or what appeared to be men — in odd brown robes, bowing and chanting something Sarai could not understand. Was this it? Had they found the Temple of the Hand after all? If so, they sure hadn’t found it the right way!

The men couldn’t see Sarai — since she happened to be an invisible monster, after all — and she liked it just fine that way. But, visible or not, there wasn’t anything she could do for Gell from here. She started flying around the vault, searching for Katja — was she in the same predicament? Or worse? Since Sarai wasn’t bound to Katja, she couldn’t just find her the way she could find Gell, and had to resort to searching the conventional way, which wasn’t working out for her in particular. Her frantic flying about did lead her to a few interesting discoveries, however; apparently, the large room Gell was in was not the only thing down here. In fact, they were in some type of cave complex the purpose of which she could not possibly guess. It appeared that the strange men Gell was surrounded by lived down here, and that they were not alone; as Sarai flitted from chamber to chamber, she saw many more all dressed in the same brown robes, many of them involved in day-to-day living activities.

What she didn’t see was any sign of Katja, or any clue as to what was going on. Desperate, she decided to try something she’d never done before; she picked a man (almost at random) who looked as though he might know what was going on, and then she blinked inside of him, and began searching through his memory directly.

Jeremiah (for that was the man’s name) perceived this rather oddly. For a brief instant he had a ferocious headache, and then that was gone, replaced by a feeling of fogginess and confusion, as though his thoughts weren’t doing quite what he wanted them to do. He shook his head repeatedly, trying to clear out the odd sensation, but to no avail. He found himself thinking of things almost entirely at random, flipping from memory to memory with no rhyme nor reason to the affair, and no conscious ability to control what was going on. He’d have suspected he was going mad if he’d had sufficient ability to suspect such a thing.

Sarai, of course, was tearing frantically through the man’s mind, scouring every bit of information she could find, looking for something that would be useful. Should have practiced this more, she thought, then maybe I’d have some idea how to find anything in here! She flipped through page after page of childhood memories, important moments, family members and first loves, desperately seeking something a Katja-related memory. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she found something; Jeremiah had apparently been mending shoes for some of the residents when Katja was brought in. He didn’t see what happened to her, but apparently he knew where she’d be brought, and that was all Sarai needed. Blinking herself back out of Jeremiah’s head, she blasted down the corridor and through the walls to the cell she’d discovered, leaving the poor man to lurch forward and then collapse alarmingly on the floor.

Arriving at her destination, Sarai found that the memories she’d grabbed were correct; this was a little niche in the rock of the cave set with a heavy wooden door, and guarded by two robed men. Blasting by them heedlessly and through the door, Sarai found herself in a tiny, windowless cubbyhole containing nothing but the unconscious form of Katja. The wordling placed her tiny hands on Katja’s shoulder and began to shake as noticably as she could.

“Hey! Katja! Wake up! Wake up, I said!” Sarai yelled.

Slowly, groggily, Katja began to shake her head a bit, and gradually raised herself up enough to bat at the wordling. “Sarai? What are you –”

“Shh!” Sarai interrupted her. “You have to be quiet or the guards will hear you!”

Katja looked around, still not fully aware of what was going on. She struggled to recall what had happened. “You went out to explore,” she whispered, “and then Gell said something didn’t seem right. Then… how did I get here? Where’s Gell?”

“Gell’s in trouble,” Sarai answered. “We can figure out how you got in here later; right now, we just need to figure out how to get you out!”

Katja staggered to her feet and moved to examine the door. “It doesn’t look like this door locks,” she whispered, “but you said there are guards. I’m unarmed. How will we get past them?”

“I think I can take care of that,” Sarai grinned, and flew back out of the room, sizing up the guards and blinking into the head of the larger one. Now, if I have this right, she thought, I should just have to pull this here…

On the outside, the larger guard was experiencing symptoms similar to those of poor Jeremiah; he got a sudden headache, and then his whole head started to feel thick and gummy, like he couldn’t quite think right. His partner noticed that something was going on.

“Hey, Amos, you all right, man? Damn, you don’t look so good. Maybe you should sit down.”

By way of reply, Amos suddenly cold-cocked him, and the smaller man slumped quietly to the ground. Sarai then, learning her new trick with gusto, applied the correct pressure to Amos’ mind to cause him to fall into a deep sleep himself. Emerging from his head, she called triumphantly to Katja: “you can come out, now! I took care of things here.”

The door creaked open, and Katja peeked out, startled by the sight of the two burly guards lying in a heap on the floor. “Sarai? How did you –”

“I’ll brag about it for a week when we get out of here, but for now, we need to hurry. The small one’s robe should be about the right size for you, yeah?”

Katja nodded, pulled the robe off of the man, and slipped into it herself. It was a bit large, but it got the job done, and it came equipped with a deep hood she could pull forward to hide her face.

“Okay,” Sarai explained, once Katja was suited up, “Gell’s in a big room in the centre of this place, and they have him tied to some weird altar thing. I don’t really know what’s going on, but I’m sure it’s bad news, and we need to get him out of there.”

“What’s the plan?” Katja asked, softly.

“Still… working on that part,” the wordling confessed. “But I’m sure we can figure something out. Come on!”

The two of them proceeded down the corridor, moving much more slowly than Sarai could by herself, since they had to take care not to break Katja’s cover by seeming unduly alarmed. Another difference, of course, was that Katja could not pass through walls, and they had to take the long way around everywhere. The first chamber they came to appeared to be a dormitory of some sort; many of the robed men were milling about in here, some sleeping, some meditating, some maintaining their outfits. All were too busy to take much notice of a random figure passing through, and Katja slipped past them undetected and into the next corridor, this one wending downward into a dining area.

There was a good deal of pandemonium in this room; apparently a young man had suddenly collapsed while waiting for his dinner. “Ooo,” Sarai remarked, “I hope he’ll be okay. Guess I could have been more gentle.”

“What did you do?” Katja whispered, astonished.

“I’ll tell you later. We need to get out of here before they notice us. You.”

So far their escape was going swimmingly. It seemed that the residents of this cave were not a very social bunch; they appeared to take little notice of each other, or of the disguised Katja, and she had no difficulty slipping between and around them on toward her destination. They also appeared to have no security of note; there were no guards and no soldiers to be seen. Probably they believed themselves too well hidden to need full-time defenders. Whatever the reason, they were clearly unprepared to be infiltrated, and our heroes moved swiftly though them to their destination at the centre of the bizarre complex.

When they got there, they found the situation had changed a bit since Sarai first arrived. Gell was still lashed to the stone wheel, but he had apparently regained consciousness, and was straining in an attempt to free himself from his bonds. The robed men around him were still kneeling and chanting, but they had been joined by a more imposing figure in a slightly more ornate robe. This man stood before them, facing Gell, and he was clearly saying something Sarai and Katja couldn’t make out. His robes, rather than the plain brown of the regular people, were embroidered with a golden thread in an odd, flame-like pattern. His hood was drawn back, his bald head visible, and he held in one hand a sword, and in the other a dagger — Katja could tell even from this distance the dagger was hers. The sword she presumed was Saturnine, though she was less adept at recognising that. The man placed the weapons on the stone of the altar and spoke some inaudible words to Gell, prompting the Puritan to spit in his face. The man paused for a moment, and then began to laugh outrageously as the wheel slowly started to turn.

“What do we do?” Katja whispered. “I don’t even understand what’s going on here.”

“All I know is that Gell’s in trouble. I’m going in!” Sarai zoomed forward toward the man at the altar, and blinked herself into his head as she’d done with the others. This time, it worked a good deal less well; she felt as though she’d crashed right into a brick wall, and the recoil sent her spinning back out into the open air, dazed and shaken. The man turned to look at her, and grinned madly.

Gell also spotted her. “Sarai?” He exclaimed, “what’s goin’ on here?”

Sarai had no time to answer, as the mad monk brought his teeth chomping down hard at her. She swiftly blinked out of the way, annoyed that he could see her.

“Well,” he oozed, “quite a prize indeed! The master will be most pleased with this sacrifice.”

“Darlin’,” Gell cut in, “I think he can see you.”

“I noticed that,” Sarai replied bitterly. “He’s also apparently too tough for my new trick, which I was all proud of and everything.”

The robed men began to close in around them, Gell still tied down to the wheel, Sarai hovering in the air out of reach of the leader.

“It is time!” he cried. “Come, my children! The Wheel of Fortune has completed its turn, and now we cast the demon into the flames that our master may –”

His inspiring oratory was cut short when one of the monks suddenly kicked him square in the chest, sending him staggering back and toppling off the ledge into the flames below. The rest of them took several steps back, recoiling in shock and terror, and the attacker suddenly seized the dagger up from the altar and stabbed toward the bound Puritan with it, neatly slicing through the ropes binding his left hand to the altar, then proceeding to free his other appendages. At last released from his bondage, Gell leapt down from the wheel and snatched up Saturnine from where it lay, causing the roomful of monks to scatter in abject terror. He regarded his savior with a wary eye.

“Uh, thanks, I reckon. You happen to know how’s I could get outta here?”

“Gell, don’t be silly,” Katja replied, pulling back her hood so Gell could see who she was and then look like a right fool. If I knew how to get out of here, we’d be going. Especially since something tells me those guys will be back, and they’ll probably bring friends.”

Just then, rather alarmingly, the cave began to shake, and the flames below them seemed to leap even higher than before.

“Hey,” Gell exclaimed, “what’s goin’ on? Those freaky guys better not be cavin’ this place in on us.”

Then, to the amazement of the onlooking three, a great form began to rise from the flames. It looked rather like the dragon from the basement of the cursed tower, but it was not a dragon; it was a long, sinuous, red reptilian form, with a shock of orange hair protruding from the back of its head like a great gout of flame. It had a long, trailing mustache of deep black, a tremendous toothy grin, and two piercing blue eyes, the colour coming as a terrible contrast to the overpowerance of red and orange. Its two foreclaws thundered into the rock on either side of the altar, and it opened its huge jaws as though to bathe them in a sheet of flames, though only words emerged.

“Who dares to summon the lord god Salamander? Speak now, pitiful — I say, what is this? You’re not Ezekiel. What’s going on here?”

“Whozekiel?” Gell responded, not half as intimidated as Salamander had hoped. “The bald guy? Yeah, he’s… uh, indisposed.”

“Indisposed?” The big lizard boomed.

“Well, maybe I mean regular-disposed. He kinda ended up at the bottom o’ these here fiery rocks.”

“What? This is outrageous! So who are you, then, who presume to stand before the great Salamander?”

“Name’s Gell. Nice to meet you, Sally. Can I call you Sally? Oh, no, you’re a gent, I reckon. Sal, then.”

“Gell? Oh, so you’re –”

The lizard was suddenly engulfed in a great white light, dazzling the eyes of our heroes. When they could see again, it was gone, and in its place stood a handsome young man with well-groomed dark hair, a pencil mustache, and an impeccably tailored burgundy suit. He smiled and continued. “So you’re the one I’ve been hearing so much about. Allow me to introduce myself properly. My name is Pranesha Bomgatha, Dean of Enchantment of the College of One. I was unaware that my children had caught someone of your stature.”

“Children?”

“Well, ‘slaves’ is such an ugly word, don’t you think? As is ‘thralls.’ No, I think ‘children’ is best.”

“Well, Sal, or Dean, or whoever you are, how’s about you just point us at the nearest exit all quick-like, and we’ll call it even, hey?”

Dean Bomgatha chuckled softly. “Better still. Why don’t we continue this conversation in my office?” They were surrounded by a soft glow, and the cave appeared to melt away into a scene of opulence. They were now in a comfortable mansion-style office with luxurious purple carpeting, paneled walls, and a rich, mahogany desk. Curiously, there were no doors nor windows.

“What the hell? How’d we get here?” Gell asked, a bit alarmed and more than a bit annoyed.

Bomgatha just grinned devilishly. “I am a wizard, friend Puritan. It is trivial.”

“Ain’t what I mean. I been around once or twice; I can see a teleport comin’ a mile off. And that ain’t what happened.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Sarai interjected.

“Anyway,” Bomgatha changed the subject, “to get down to business. As you know, Puritan, the College is presently collecting wordstones. We have come to understand that you possess one such object. If you surrender it to me now, I’ll allow you to leave unmolested. If you do not… well, as you can see, there’s no way out of here.”

“You ain’t gettin’ a thing, and that’s no matter what you say. So if we’re gonna have it out, let’s just get down to business.”

“Refreshingly direct. Very well, Puritan; have it your way.”

The room faded to black around them. Suddenly, Bomgatha appeared to be everywhere at once. Gell raised his sword, startled, and the collection of Bomgathas laughed. “You can’t find me, can you, Puritan?”

“I’ve faced tougher tricks than this, Sal. Just ’cause I can’t find you don’t mean I can’t beat you.”

“No, seriously,” Sarai interjected, “what are you talking about? He’s right in front of you.”

Gell lashed out with Saturnine, and caught the edge of something; a bit of the wizard’s clothing, perhaps. Not a significant bite.

“Hmph. Lucky shot. You’ll not be so lucky again!”

Suddenly the whole room was filled with noise. Clearly Bomgatha was no fool. Gell was struck in the back by a small blast, and then again from his front left. He had the disconcerting feeling that he was being toyed with, but he couldn’t see or hear anything that was going on.

Gell?

Sarai’s voice came to him. Not as speech, but just echoing in his head.

Gell, what’s wrong?

Just what he says, darlin’. I can’t see him in this weird reflecty darkness, can’t hear him in all this noise.

His illusions don’t affect me, Gell. But he’s too powerful for me to attack directly.

Gell was struck again, this time from the front. So what do we do?

Just focus, Gell. Don’t use your eyes, don’t use your ears. Focus on me — use my eyes, and my ears.

Can I do that?

Just try it. Can’t hurt.

Gell closed his eyes, refused to see anything, refused to hear anything. Instead, he focused on Sarai, feeling her presence, finding her amidst the chaos, narrowing in on her. Feeling her eyes, and her ears, and allowing them to replace his own.

Suddenly, he could see again, though, disconcertingly, he was looking at himself from high above. He was still in the cave, his body and Katja’s distractedly fumbling around in some type of daze. A few paces in front of him and to his left was an unkempt old man in a shabby brown robe, waving his hands around in the air in some type of incantation. Instinctively, Gell drew the Deflection sign and swung Saturnine around in time to intercept the blast.

“How annoying,” he heard a feeble-sounding voice utter, “but you won’t be so lucky again, Puritan. I’m tired of playing.” The old man wound up for a large blast, but Gell suddenly lunged toward him and slashed deeply. The old man staggered backwards, and Saturnine bit into him, striking flesh this time and not merely cloth.

“What?” the old man stammered disbelievingly, “how? How are you doing this?”

Gell laughed. “Come on, d’you really think I ain’t gonna solve a simple little trick like that one?”

Bomgatha growled, and vanished in an orange puff.

“Good work, Gell!” Sarai called. “You got him!”

“Gell?” Katja asked, dazed. “What just happened?”

Gell released his link to Sarai’s senses, and he returned to his own body. “It’s kind of a weird story, to be honest, darlin’. Probably best to save it for later, too. Right now, I reckon it’s best if we get outta here before that Bomgatha fellow comes back with reinforcements.”

They left the ritual chamber to the peculiar sight of a large crowd of robed acolytes milling around confusedly, none of them seeming to know where they were or what they were doing there.

“How’s about that,” Gell remarked, “must’ve hit him harder than I thought.”