The Princess Comes Home

This week's tale comes via the interaction of the claimant of the first-subscriber treat Seri. He chose to roll (with the assistance of yours truly) the Fairy Tale dice and opted to re-roll the full allotment of four dice to make the images referred to in this tale. The images were: Moon, Jail, Storm, Hourglass (time), Bow and arrow, Witch, Forest, Castle

If you want to have opportunities to participate in shaping the fate of the Faerie realm then you can subscribe on my Patreon page from as little as $1 a month.

Wish Forbetter was a little disappointed. The far future appeared to be, in most respects, identical to the present. If anything there was less in the future than there was in the past.

As a street thief brought up in the City of the Seven Spires Wish didn't know all that much about Faerie time and space. He knew that tomorrow never came and yesterday had a nasty habit of catching up with you. Other than that time was a way of telling whether it was before lunch, during lunch or after lunch. Space was a way of telling whether the Watch had caught up with you or not.

Even given this limited understanding of these big concepts Wish was underwhelmed. Only the Twenty Kingdoms had grown bigger in the thousands of years since he and Anabyl had trapped themselves in a magic crystal. Even then apparently there were only a hundred kingdoms now.

Add to this the things that were lost and it appeared that Faerie had actually shrunk. The stories had it that Araby had fallen to dust. Of course the Terra Draconis had vanished but that had been a year or so before Wish was even born.

The basic properties of Faerie had not altered, not in all that time. The Patchwork Market had a new master, but it was still there. There was a giant forest that connected all places. The shadow kingdoms were still full of magic and mayhem. The Undone still chewed its implacable way through the soft places. All fishermen were miserable and lunatic.

What was the point of travelling through time, Wish wondered, if all the places you could go were exactly the same?

Right now Anabyl and Wish were riding on Anabyl's horse through the Forest of Grymm. They were heading towards Anabyl's home kingdom of Spireshine. She had promised that Wish would be welcome there and that he would be safe. Anabyl, meanwhile, would not be able to stay. She had her small wooden box to deliver. Until she had completed her task she was in great danger.

Wish understood that the Dragon Guardians had held a meeting, they had put the Quintessence Crystal in a box. Then they had put two similar looking dragon crystals in two more identical boxes. Then each party had taken one box somewhere safe. They hoped that they might, this way, keep the real crystal safe. Safe enough for someone to have some time to work out how to extract the continent contained within its lattice safely.

So right now maybe Anabyl was carrying the crystal that had been a prison cell for her and Wish for millennia untold. Or maybe Frederick and Phoebe were taking it to the place that Phoebe had nominated. Or maybe Eos held it in her underwater kingdom. The only ones that knew for sure were the Dragon Guardians.

None of them liked the name, bestowed upon them by the little girl Rachel Rummage, nevertheless it had stuck. The thing about having an important name was that it made you look silly if what you did wasn't as important as the name. In this case what they were doing was so important it kind of made the name look silly. That was probably even worse.

Phoebe had told Wish a little about the Princess when she was young. These were stories Wish had some trouble believing. Stories about mechanical dragons and chicken tsunamis and general havoc. The Anabyl Spireshine that Wish Forbetter knew was quiet, intense and determined. He could not picture the Last of the Dragon Warriors jousting from the back of a pig.

As evening drew on the wind picked up a little through the trees. Anabyl took a path signposted for a nearby town.

"We can't be out on the road in bad weather during the night," she said. "We'll have to stop at an inn."

"Is it too far to get to Spireshine now?" Wish asked.

"It's still at least half a day. We'll carry on tomorrow," Anabyl replied. "Tonight we'll stay in Lesser Barlow, that's right on the borders with my kingdom."

"Have you been there before?" Wish was curious to see somewhere near to where the princess had been born.

"I think they instituted a lifetime ban against my return in the year of the stuttering phoenix," Anabyl replied. "I have to hope that will have been lifted, even though, technically, it was only three years ago at this point."

"What did you do to get a life time ban?" asked Wish.

"Was that the sheep and the flying potion or the frogs and the peanut butter?" the princess mused. "It was something anti-social."

"Were you really like that?" Wish asked. "A little terror? That's what I was told."

"I lacked purpose and direction," Anabyl replied. "I had to learn to focus my energy productively."

"Harness your energy," Wish said. "Like a horse or something?"

"Something like that," Anabyl smiled.

The sound of rain could be heard in the tree canopy above. As they came into Lesser Barlow the rain began to fall in earnest. In the distance a fork of lightning split the sky, soon after a rumble of thunder followed.

Lesser Barlow was no more than five streets and a tiny market square that would host no more than twenty stalls at a push. The local inn 'The Tasty Squirrel' was one of the largest buildings in the whole place.

The princess tied up her horse by the stables and looked about for the ostler.

"Come on, Wish," she said. "I bet he's inside, hiding from the storm."

Anabyl and Wish made their way into the bar of the Squirrel. Only then did it occur to them that there might be more to the quiet streets of Lesser Barlow than an instinct to hide from bad weather. The Squirrel's bar was empty aside from the barman and a couple of men slumped in the corner, neither of them drinking.

Wish didn't even see the other man. The one that Anabyl reached out and grabbed by the collar. She flung the shifty individual against the bar. He struck the edge of the counter with a worryingly loud crunching thump. There was a knife to his throat before anyone could even react.

"What's going on?" she asked the man conversationally, as if she wasn't threatening his life. "Where is everybody?"

"Curfew," the man replied. "Everyone's home after curfew."

"So why aren't you at home?" the princess asked. "It being after curfew and all."

"I live here," the man said.

Anabyl didn't shift her eyes away from where they locked the man in place like an insect caught on a pin.

"No you don't," she said. "So why are you here. Last chance before I'm having to mop your blood off the floor of this inn and apologising for the upset."

"Evlin Shadowcrook," the man said, gabbling the words out now. "She told me to sit here every night, look out for strangers headed toward Spireshine."

"Who is this woman? A sorceress?" Anabyl asked.

"Witch," the man said. "Wicked witch."

"Last question, why does this witch care who goes to Spireshine?" Anabyl eased her feet apart slightly, bracing herself in case her captive chose to fight back. He didn't.

"She owns Caer Spireshine now, the shadows have come in, three deep, this is the shadow's edge now," the man said.

"What about Lord and Lady Spireshine?" Anabyl demanded forgetting she'd promised that previous question as the last.

"In the dungeon is what I heard," the man said. "Only been a few days, we were waiting for a response, from the other kingdoms."

Anabyl eased back on her heels. She brought her knife down.

"You'd best get home," she said to the man. "It's after curfew."

The man made his way past Anabyl and Wish. He ran through the door as if the devil was at his heels. The atmosphere at the bar of the inn did not get any lighter.

"I don't want any trouble," the innkeeper said. He stood at the far end of the bar. The innkeeper preserved the greatest possible distance from Anabyl. Anabyl did not make any move closer to the man from her position near the entrance.

"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" Anabyl asked. "Or was it this quiet in here before an evil witch set up home in my kingdom?"

"Your kingdom?" the innkeeper asked. "Who are you? Elspyth? Marjyram?"

"No, they're both happily married and living the lives of ladies in kingdoms far away," Anabyl said.

"Surely not Sophya!" the innkeeper said. "Word was that your marriage is imminent."

"Oh, yes," Anabyl said. A chime of recollection rang in her voice. "Now that I'm of age I will have to remember to send a gift, thank you. No. Sophya is, no doubt, preparing for her own nuptials in far away Sommerslip."

"Then... but that means... oh no..." The tremor that shook the innkeeper's voice only deepened as the understanding dawned in his mind. "Anabyl?" he asked. The three syllables were wreathed in dread.

The man had shown less concern to have a woman threaten a man with a knife over his bar a few moments earlier. Now he knew the identity of his mystery patron it appeared that he could wish for nothing more than the ground to open and swallow him whole.

"You remember me!" Anabyl said, her voice light with joy. "Glad to see I am not easily swept aside by the passage of time."

"But how?" the innkeeper said. "You were small... so small... and you looked so sweet and... Ohhhh... How?"

"I think it had something to do with the Master of Mischief," Anabyl said. "But you know how dreadfully hard he can be to pin down."

The question of Evlin Shadowcrook and her assault on Spireshine was forgotten for the moment. Wish marvelled at the effect the princess was having on those near to her family home. The stories of pig jousting were no less fantastic but he couldn't argue with the evidence.

Evlin Shadowcrook was evidently not keen on being upstaged. An almighty thunderclap shook the inn building. The vibration so hard that all the oil lamps extinguished, plunging the inn into shadowy darkness. The only light illuminating the scene came from the moon.

"Moonlight?" Anabyl said. "That's not... I hate wicked witches."

With that she spun on her heel and stormed over to the door. Wish, receiving no instruction to stay put, followed her out into the inn yard.

Outside the storm was raging. Dark clouds swirled in the sky and the source of Anabyl's exasperation was now clearly visible. A fat, yellow moon hung in front of the storm clouds in bald defiance of the way things usually worked.

As if on cue the shadow of a broomstick bearing a single passenger swooped in front of the strange glowing sky circle. The broomstick wheeled round and soared down towards the inn yard. As it approached the sound of evil cackling became louder and louder.

"Always with the aerial attacks," Anabyl muttered. She pulled her bow from her back and thumbed the catch to make it full size. "They never learn."

With that she pulled an arrow from a pouch in her boot, put it to the bow string and fired the shaft directly at Evlin Shadowcrook. The arrow scored its target, the cackling ceased as the witch tumbled from her perch with an undignified squawk.

"Don't mess with Spireshines," Anabyl said, pouting. Her jaw set with pugnacious determination.

At last Wish saw it. The whole time he had known Anabyl she had appeared quiet, intense and a little sad. Now he understood that the princess had not coped well with being lost and homesick. The fire that burned in her heart was fierce indeed.

Even in the long ago days and trapped within the crystal it had burned so all could see it. Now she was home, near to her family and someone was interfering in her return. That fire had become an inferno and Evlin Shadowcrook should probably be very, very frightened indeed.

"I'm going to get her," Anabyl said to Wish as she mounted her horse. "You stay here at the inn. I'll be back soon."

"I want to stay with you!" Wish objected.

"We don't always get what we want," Anabyl said. "Mind you, when I was your age and I didn't I used to burn things. Are you going to burn things?"

"No," Wish said before he could think of a better answer.

"Then stay here, I'll be back soon," Anabyl said.

So Wish did, and Anabyl returned with the wicked witch in tow, but what happened next is a story for another day.

Subscribers Only: Phoebe September, the Rainbow Bridge and the Ghost Cat

Phoebe September wished that she could tickle the ghost cat behind the ears but ectoplasmic fur could not be tickled. It really was a beautiful creature, milk white, softly glowing. It languished on the sill of the window as if considering an evening's prowl, maybe one with a few dead mice at the end.

Like most ghosts the cat was tied to the structure that it haunted. Phoebe felt sad for the cat. It was stuck in an abandoned shadow mansion all alone. All alone most of the time. All alone except for tonight.

"Come on, light, fiddlesticks!" Frederick said. He was hunched over a pile of wood intended to serve as that evening's fire. It appeared that he wasn't having much luck with his tinderbox.

"There's no need to get uptight," Phoebe said, fully aware of the irony of her encouraging someone else to calm down.

"What?" Frederick said, looking up at her from his task. "No. I was actually telling the fiddlesticks to light. I think a musician may once have lived here. That's where I got this wood."

Phoebe examined the wood pile closer. Now that she was paying attention she could make out the tangled wisps of horsehair curled up on the ends of some of the sticks.

"Oh," she said. With a flick of her wrist she released a small ball of orange plasma. The wood pile burst into flames. "There."

"Why didn't you just do that ten minutes ago?" Frederick asked.

"I felt like a little sit down and some quiet," Phoebe replied. "Sorry."

The rest of this story can be found on my Patreon and is for subscribers only. There will be another story for non-subscribers in two weeks. If you want access to more stories and puzzling adventures subscribe on my Patreon for as little as $1 a month.

In Which The Vanishing Has Swallowed The Terra Draconis

It is a morsel of common wisdom too kind to reflect reality that anything Avan Weatherstrong did not know about magic was probably not worth knowing. It is certainly true that the youngest son of the House of Weatherstrong was the most versatile practitioner of the magical arts to ever walk among the lands of Faerie.

For this reason the storm that consumed the dark side of the Okulas Moon did not impress Avan the way that it intimidated his young companion Saeed. All magic, fundamentally, was elemental. To make a rain cloud one could easily combine air and water manufactured from raw mischief. A gigantic black-hearted storm was air and water bound with raw white plasma and amplified using power and chaos. A gigantic storm was devastating, but it was a show piece for the easily cowed.

There was no subtlety to Okulas's working, it was achievable by any idiot with a rudimentary grasp on the basics and the coin to drop on the equipment to make it happen. It was hard to explain to an individual seeing the awesome power of the storm first hand. For this reason Avan didn't even try.

If Avan were to be honest about matters, and he tended to be, he would be forced to admit that the flying potions that enabled Saeed and himself to arc over the storm and settle upon the rim of the crater at the storm's eye was no more impressive to a master alchemist. The ingredients of the potion altered the gross weight of the flesh until it could slip through the air. There was a question of balance, a good flying potion was a hard thing to prepare, but once one had the technique the application was pretty tedious.

Again, it was hard to communicate to a non-magic user how unimpressive a thing a decent flight potion was except in the degree of its responsiveness. Avan's flight potions were something he was proud of but for technical reasons, not merely because the gifted the imbiber with the power to fly for one turn of the hourglass.

There were several flourishes that any alchemist would have been happy to tell you were very hard to pull off in Avan's potion. The potion allowed for mental control of the relative density of the flyer's flesh, the control was quite precise, different parts of the body responded the need to move in harmony with the flyer's wishes. Essentially, when you flew with Avan Weatherstrong's potion you found the business of flight surpassingly easy. The end phase was nicely feathered also, a soft landing at the end of your flight was almost always guaranteed.

This marked the difference between Avan and Okulas. The Count had money, which he had used to buy power to use as a bludgeon. Avan possessed diligence and wisdom, which he had used to craft elegant solutions that got the job done in the spirit of efficiency.

In a completely fair world it would be Avan and Saeed who easily triumphed over the rich bully with the expensive toys. Anyone who has ever encountered a rich bully with expensive toys will tell you that the world is hardly ever fair at all.

By the time Avan and Saeed landed Okulas's plan was already at an advanced stage. As Saeed crested the dark, swirling cloud bank that surrounded the crater a long silver thread became visible, emerging from a structure at the centre of the crater and curving around almost doubling over to cross the moon's horizon and disappear downwards towards the vague craggy outline of the lands of Faerie below. (For the scientific among you wondering how the sky could be filled with the distant image of the lands below, suffice to say that if geography in Faerie is eccentric, interplanetary spacial location is totally insane.)

"We need to aim for that building!" Avan shouted over the whirling, crackling mass of stormclouds.

Avan and Saeed swooped down, on a course to land outside the structure. They didn't make it halfway before an arrow zinged through the space between them. One arrow was quickly followed by more. Before long the air was filled with hurtling arrows, some of them on fire. Saeed and Avan dodged and weaved as much as they could but in the end they were forced back, eventually landing half a mile from their intended destination.

"I really hope that there aren't more glass monkeys," Saeed said.

As hopes went it was not a large one, if heavily armoured guards were an acceptable replacement for invisible simians then Saeed should have been well pleased. For a short while more arrows attempted to find them but Avan put up a glowing shield the arrows bounced off. Eventually a horde of cavalry soldiers reached the pair but, galloping past, they could not penetrate Avan's defenses.

"We must not be delayed," Avan said. "This shield cannot be moved but I can make us fast. Get ready!"

With that Avan threw a small clay pot onto the ground hard enough to shatter, a black-gold glowing powder bloomed outwards, engulfing the two men.

"Stay sharp," Avan instructed, once the dust had cleared. "I'm taking down the shield."

He did so and Saeed looked about to find himself in an even stranger world. Okulas's army was all around him, twisted faces snarling, strong arms bristling with weapons, all intent on cutting down the two men who would seek to interfere with the events unfolding in the nearby building. All of these soldiers were moving as if caughtin treacle, the air was filled with the slow throbbing growl of their cries, slowed down by Avan's magic.

"You still have to tread carefully," Avan said. "But this should last until we reach our destination."

And so they went, jumping over enemies, treading lightly upon the backs of trolls, lizard men and burly folk. Avan and Saeed raced across the army that was trying to kill them. As they reached the outer walls of Okulas's hide away the growl of the army had raised in pitch and tone, the motions of the soldiers a little faster.

"We haven't got long," Avan noted, "let's get up the wall."

Saeed and Avan scrambled up the outside of the building and ran across the roof dropping down into the courtyard just as the effect of Avan's speed bomb wore off. Saeed considered that it must have looked to the observers as if Avan and himself had skimmed over the roof like swooping birds landing precisely at a single spot each already focused on the scene before them. Saeed understood how intimidating such a display would be and understood a little more of what had made the name of Weatherstrong a central pillar of Faerie legend.

Okulas, a dark-haired, pale-skinned oily kind of individual who was, unsurprisingly, shorter than one might have expected, acted as if the arrival of the Prince and Saeed were expected and on schedule.

"Welcome, Prince Weatherstrong," Okulas said. "You will be disappointed to hear that your valiant efforts to preserve the Terra Draconis are all in vain. The skybow's arrow has tethered my moon to the continent and the apparatus I had built by a team of witches has distilled its energies into a single crystal, the crystal of quintessence. All that remains is for the quintessence crystal to be placed within the mounting on an amulet, linked to a ring of power and my claim to the title of Faerie's most powerful sorcerer will be passed into the pages of history."

Okulas was so intent on his gloating that he failed to notice Avan make a subtle hand gesture to Saeed that they had settled upon previously whilst quelling the riot in Dracopolis. They had only decided upon this signal less than three weeks ago but Saeed noticed it with some surprise.

The signal meant 'create a distraction'. Providing such a distraction as Saeed could was appropriate when you wanted to lead a group of trolls into a blind alley where they could be stunned and bound away from the main throroughfare. In this situation Saeed could not imagine a distraction such as he might take responsibility for that did not end with him being frazzled, throttled or otherwise demised by a powerful wicked sorcerer.

Saeed tried to put all of that into a double raised eyebrow aimed at Avan. Avan, lacking an organised response merely waved his thumb in a vaguely upwards direction.

"If I meet death today," Saeed muttered under his breath as Okulas finished explaining his plan. "I will not be impressed in the slightest."

"Even so he thumbed a little smoke bomb that Avan had made for him from the hidden pouch in his belt and smashed it on the ground. As Okulas's personal guard reacted by waving their pikes in his general direction Saeed took the opportunity provided by the confusion to punch a couple of them in places that Saeed knew would temporarily cripple them. Even so, these soldiers were the best that Okulas had under his command. Saeed could not hope to best them alone.

"Grab him!" Okulas shouted pointing in Saeed's direction. After that things went bad for him very quickly indeed.

The world became filled with flying crossbow bolts and swishing blades. Okulas's personal guard had clearly prepared well to take down individuals causing trouble in the vicinity of their employer. Saeed tried to see where Avan was, even as the noose of wood and steel attempted to close about him, but he could not see the prince anywhere.

Making a snap decision Saeed decided that he had to make a break for it. He couldn't hope to survive if the full focus of the guard remained on him. Saeed back flipped over a pair of surprised guards and ran away from the courtyard and into the building through a tall pair of double doors.

The only thing that saved Saeed's neck in that moment was that he had developed a sixth sense for the layout of unfamiliar archectural structures. He found a way down into the building's cellar and from there a trapdoor sealing an escape route into the caves below the moon. The guard, who knew the building far better, stayed in pursuit, but only because they had the home advantage.

Whatever the reason Saeed hoped that he had not made a fatal miscalculation. The narrow passages of the Okulas Moon's cave system were not an ideal place to escape from a horde of pursuing guards. Before long Saeed had exhausted all the obvious routes, perpetually finding looped passages, dead ends or sheer vertical shafts. Without any magic of his own it seemed that he had cornered himself.

In the end he found himself in a passage, hemmed in by guards on either side. Roughly half way down the passage was a shaft showing a way upwards but the rock was smooth and slippery. Saeed could not gain access to the upper shelf of rock and his small spider-silk grapple had nothing to hook onto. As the guards approached Saeed watched his options decreasing. He drew his sword but there was no real way he could defeat a small army all by himself.

As the guards drew together under the chimney, completely sealing Saeed's available escape routes Saeed focused on the fiercest looking guards and waved his sword about.

"I may be reintroduced to my mother this day," he shouted, "but I will be taking some of you with me, mark my words!"

The guards did not look impressed, Saeed swung his arm back preparing for a first blow. As his arm reached its ready position there was the sound of a crack and someone shouted: "Shiner!"

Saeed closed his eyes and blocked his ears as he always did when he heard the word shiner. The shiner was a small bomb developed by Avan that put out a loud noise and a bright white light that could stun anyone who did not protect their eyes and ears when it went off. The devices did not do much physical harm but were immensely useful in asserting a surprise tactic against a group of adversaries.

With the short warning the sound of the shiner was louder in Saeed's ears than he might have liked, but e managed to shield his eyes from the light. When he opened them again the guards were all clutching their heads and moaning. A sliver of white cord was hanging down to Saeed's side.

Saeed did not hesitate, he scaled the rope up the chimney and was greeted by Avan at the top.

"You cut that about as fine as I think you possibly could," Saeed said. "Thank you."

"Sorry," Avan said. "I had to lose pursuers of my own, then, I found these."

Avan held up a number of crystals, all of which looked like they could be the quintessence crystal.

"What is this? More magic?" Saeed asked.

"Raw mischief, trapped in dragon crystals as luminosity," Avan said. "Only one of the crystals is the one that contains the Terra Draconis, the others are decoys."

"So, the Terra Draconis is safe?" Saeed asked.

"Trapped in crystal," Avan nodded, "but out of Okulas's grasp. We need to make sure it stays safe, until the magic can be reversed safely."

"Can you do that?" Saeed asked.

"Not easily," Avan said. "I think the safest extraction method will prove to be alchemical but whoever does it will only get one chance. The responsibility for restoring this land is a grave one. I fear that, although I will be able to start upon a solution it won't be easy and I may not be the one to complete the work."

"So what do we do now?" Saeed asked.

A small light appeared in the passage behind Avan, it was about the size of a hornet, coloured a pale yellow.

"Hello, Starspark," Avan said, then to Saeed: "This is Starspark, I found her in one of Okulas's dragon crystals. She was an experiment in preserving mischief inside the lattice structure of the crystal. She was also my first experiment in extraction. Starspark, this is Saeed, an honest thief."

"Hello, Prince Weatherstrong," Starspark said. "Hello, Saeed."

"Starspark knows these caves, she can take us back through the roots of the tree to the light side of the moon and I can use magic to take us back to the haunted house in Faerie," Avan said. "After that you and I will hide the decoys, and, of course, the real crystal. Hopefully that will buy us some time to seek a remedy for this wicked act."


And this is exactly what they did, but as for the rest that will be told another day.

Sir Cobb's Problem or So What Now?

"That was a lot of work for only half as much as I earned yesterday," Frederick complained.

"Look on the bright side," the tavern keeper said. "You only look half as battered for your troubles."

Frederick was dismayed to note that cage-fighting had now settled into his conscious mind as an everyday occurrence. In Frederick's mind earning money from fighting was the kind of thing a scoundrel would do, and he didn't like to think of himself as a scoundrel. Unfortunately saving maidens from dragons was work as badly paying as it was rare in the days following the Great Vanishing.

"I have to be quite glad that you are too clumsy to actually be able to hit me," said a voice behind Frederick. Frederick turned to take in the ever-present lopsided smirk on the morally ambiguous face of Harvey Raine.

"You were watching?" Frederick asked.

"When you said you were going to spend the evening in a cage with a number of large gentlemen who would like nothing better than to hit you in the face until your teeth rattled I just had to come along," Harvey said. "Phoebe was glad to see the back of me for a few hours. I have to say that although the random violence was entertaining I wasn't expecting you to come out of it quite so... unscathed."

"It's not supposed to be entertaining," Frederick said, in brave but pointless opposition to the actual process of fighting on a stage under bright lights and having each bout announced.. "Come on, we'd better get back to the Inn."

"I think you might be misunderstanding where the six crowns you're currently holding came from," Harvey taunted Frederick but Frederick was already halfway towards the main entrance.

If Frederick had hoped that Harvey might shut the hell up as they made their way out into the street he was to be disappointed. In a corner of his mind that he had never used much growing up Frederick knew that Harvey wouldn't shut his mouth until he'd elicited some sort of angry response from Frederick. This was one of Harvey's favourite games.

"Still, that last chap, he did get a couple of solid head blows in," Harvey continued as they walked down the street towards the market square. "Good job he didn't get you anywhere important, eh, Freddie?"

The words 'don't call me Freddie' were so eager to escape from Frederick's tongue that he actually had to bite down to stop them from coming out. The pain of biting into soft parts of his own anatomy wasn't as sharp as a few of the strikes he'd suffered during the evening's bouts.

The stony silence, unfortunately, had seemingly no effect on Harvey. The djinn was long lived and used to tormenting people, he was pretty much an expert at going at someone until they collapsed into a ball of fury.

"I have to say, Freddie," Harvey continued, how the irritating sprite knew to continue with the hated contraction of Frederick's name probably came down to an almost imperceptible reflex twitch in one of Frederick's facial muscles. "I was impressed by exactly how much damage you avoided taking. I just thought you were some hopeless wannabe. Turns out you're actually a second-rate practitioner. I don't know many people for whom mediocrity would be a step up but to a certain degree I think you should be proud."

Frederick had never previously met anyone like Harvey. The only hope Frederick had of not being taunted by the djinn was if there was some novel opportunity for Harvey to annoy someone else entirely. When no such opportunity presented itself Harvey's taunting of Frederick was merciless.

"Harvey," Frederick said, trying to remain calm but not doing terribly well at the job, "why do you have to insult me all the time?"

The same corner of the mind that had known what Harvey was up to all along threw its hands up in horror at that open invitation, but it was too late, it had been issued.

"Insult you?" Harvey asked, as if that had been the last thing on his little mischief fuelled mind. "Freddie I was just pontificating out loud, sharing my inner thoughts. I don't know what it is you could possibly find to get insulted about in that."

The rest of Frederick's mind gave up on trying to make any sense out of the situation at that point. Frederick turned on his heel to put Harvey behind him and strode off in the direction of the Gryphon's Wing.

Harvey followed along and continued to insult Frederick's name and his competence at knightly activities while, at the same time, conceding that it surprised Harvey that Frederick could even muster the ability to beat people to a pulp in a cage fight. Frederick seemed to have plateaued in a condition of not really paying much attention to this babble and he did notice a distinct drop off in the viciousness and originality of Harvey's barbs.

It was with some satisfaction that Frederick gave Harvey a pointed glare when they reached the threshold of the inn. Harvey grudgingly turned into cat form and allowed himself to be picked up by Frederick. Normally there was no way that Harvey would endure such an imposition but he was under an injunction from Phoebe that could not be resisted.

Phoebe was sitting in the lounge of the inn doing something witchy with a number of pebble sized cut crystals and a cloth with a diagram on it. As soon as she was in sight Harvey hopped out of Frederick's arms and went to sit next to her. Frederick put his coin purse on the table.

"That should see us right for a couple of days," he said, sitting opposite her.

"Then what?" Phoebe asked.

"Well, I guess I'll have to find some more work to do wherever we are," Frederick replied.

"No," Phoebe said, wearing the face that she always wore when Frederick had singularly failed to grasp the thrust of her point. "I mean, what are we going to do? And where are we going to do it?"

"Um," Frederick said. He had made the breakthrough of realising that he wasn't following Phoebe's train of thought but he had no idea what to ask her to get her to make sense. "I, uh, don't exactly know what you, uh..."

"Frederick," Phoebe said. "I think we have to face facts. We joined forces to reunite a little girl and her, uh, mouse, father... mouse-father. That mission has been accomplished, as far as we can tell. Now we each have our own things to be getting on with and... well, don't you think you'd be better off without us hanging around, slowing you down," she looked down at Harvey, "annoying you?"

Frederick could only muster a blink in response to this query. He hadn't really devoted much thought to the matter. He remembered being on his own, miserable, walking around from place to place, earning some scraps of money cage fighting or killing vermin, then he had fallen through a hole in reality and found himself the sidekick to the most celebrated hero in the long history of Faerie.

After that he had taken a long journey alone through a very strange place that ended with his opportunity to prove his knightly credentials by killing an evil sorcerer. Finally he experienced a brief stint in a jail cell in Hamsamperburg where he was arrested for vagrancy and then condemned to burn at the stake as a witch when he explained his situation to the locals. It was during this incarceration that he came to the conclusion that spending too much time on your own made you go a bit funny.

Thankfully, at that point, he had been rescued by Lester, James, Phoebe and the delightful Princess Anabyl. His magic sword, now imbued with the power of speech, was returned to him and from that point on he had been part of the team.

If you'd asked him what he thought the team's overall mission and direction should be, or would be in the future, he wouldn't know. All that he did know was that is was his team and he was happy to be a part of it. He was, in fact, so happy to be a part of it that he hadn't noticed its shrinkage to the point where it could no longer really be called a team any more.

In its current state 'the team' was him, Phoebe and Harvey, which made for two and a half team members, because Harvey was compelled to be present and did his best to sabotage them wherever possible. Also, Frederick had to concede, the idea that a team should have a mission, purpose and direction was a good one.

Frederick had set out to be a wandering knight for hire but, at this stage, he had so done that it wasn't even funny. The next thing that he ought to do was seek a place at the round table of the nearest royal personage who was in the hiring mood. The only problem with that was that most monarchs currently engaged in war were of the evil variety and Frederick was very much looking for a position as a white knight.

So his options were to resume wandering, or to stay with Phoebe and Harvey. The only issue being that Phoebe and Harvey wanted to go their own way. Frederick could not, off the top of his head, think of a knightly reason why he should stay with Phoebe and Harvey. He could think of plenty of personal ones, but knights did not do things for personal reasons, they did things because of their code.

What did Frederick's code have to say on the matter?

That was yet another awkward question. Frederick had never been much for scribing, or any other type of academics. His code boiled down to: 'Try to be nice and make yourself useful'. As filled with benevolent good intention as this was it did not compel him to remain in the company of a powerful newly not-dead witch and her djinn. They didn't even need his help to protect them from anything, having, as they did, a scary abundance of magical power between the two of them.

In wandering through this tangled maze of desire and motivation Frederick did manage to come up with a half-hearted attempt at a response:

"So, what are you going to do next?" he asked. This did not actually commit to the new 'go our separate ways' plan while also being an attempt to discover whether they had any plans which could be considered mutual.

Phoebe sighed.

"Well, I imagine I will have to go back to Vikor's castle... the remains of Vikor's castle, and get the amulet from about the skeleton's neck," Phoebe said. "Until that's broken Harvey and I are bonded together and, well, I don't think that's best for anyone."

"I... see..." Frederick said. "Well, that should be... I mean... I hope that all goes well for you."

"I'm sure you have some knightly things to be getting on with," Phoebe said. "So we shouldn't really delay you, should we?"

Frederick's answer to this question was interrupted by the sudden and unexpected arrival at their table of a worried looking goblin trader. The one who had been with the little girl, the one Harvey had whisked away from the House of Mirth back to Steephill Fell: Tabarnas.

"You two are still here," Tabarnas said. "That's excellent news."

"It is?" Phoebe asked. "Why?"

"Something's happening, to my books," Tabarnas said. "It's making me very worried."

"Your books?" Frederick asked.

"I didn't know you worked any magic," Phoebe said.

"Oh, I don't," Tabarnas replied. "Other than the magic of storytelling. I have a weakness for written tales, you see. So I have, along life's journey, furnished the shelves of a small library, mostly chronicles, mostly Avan Weatherstrong stories."

"So what's the problem?" Frederick asked.

"I have three new books, books I have never read, books that are not about Avan Weatherstrong," Tabarnas said.

"And?" Frederick asked, he was trying not to sound impatient but his hope that this interruption would provide reason for the party to stay together was fading fast.

"These books are a four volume work that describe the heroic ascendance, adventures and tragic demise of a female Dragon Warrior," Tabarnas said. "I only mention it because some of us feature in the prologue."

"Some of us?" Phoebe interrupted. "As in some of us here at the table?"

"Specifically yourself," Tabarnas said, nodding his head and making eye contact with Phoebe, he transferred his gaze to Frederick. "And you. The cat doesn't come into it, neither do I. I just thought you ought to know."

"So in this story, at some point in the future," Frederick said. "We are destined to encounter this dragon warrior?"

"No, that's not it," Tabarnas said. "The implication of this summary of the warrior's early life is that she met you both whilst she was very young."

Phoebe and Frederick exchanged a glance.

"You don't mean-" Phoebe began.

"See, the warrior used a magic spade, so it's said, to liberate you, Miss September," Tabarnas said. "And she provided some assistance in freeing you from a jail cell, so it says, following a journey through a magic mirror, following a regrettable instance with a bow and arrow, so the story goes, anyway."

Tabarnas reached into his overcoat and struggled to pull out a bound pile of books from an enormous interior pocket. He placed the volumes on the table and Frederick and Phoebe read the title of the topmost tome:

The Life and Death of Anabyl, Fiercest of the Dragon Warriors, Volume I

It appeared that Frederick had found some small reason why they might want to remain a team. The Life of Anabyl wasn't so much of a problem, but the death... They would have to study further, and see if such a death was preventable, and, if it was, they would have to prevent it. The how and the where of it were details that would come again, upon another day.

In Which Saeed and Avan Have A Falling Out

Saeed had lived almost his whole life in the grandest cities of Faerie and beyond. He was used to tall buildings, narrow alleys, the rich and the poor living side by side. Noise, heat, bustle, secrets, these were as constant to Saeed as the air he breathed. Even during his time studying in Luminis he had found himself surrounded by crowded grey stone walkways and city people preoccupied with city problems.

City problems, or, to give them a more straightforward title: money problems. City people worried about profit and loss, about making ends meet, about taxes and thieves. In the landscape of a city Saeed was comfortable in the knowledge that he was one of the problems. If you were a problem it tended to be more difficult for you to have a problem. Saeed had worked hard to cultivate an attitude that problems belonged to other people.

When he had been a young boy, trailing after his mother along the streets of far away distant Afsana, Saeed had accepted his temperament on face value. As he had grown older, lost his mother, adventured, become a student, learned a little of the world, Saeed had learned that remaining open-minded and free from worry were two things you definitely had to work at.

Now he surveyed the Plaza of Diamonds, and beyond it the high walls surrounding the Diamond Treasure House and waited for night. He was a stranger in Dracopolis, wearing a hooded cloak, sat at a table outside an Inn, basking in shadow. He would have had a harder time of things if Dracopolis wasn't filled with strangers on a daily basis. Then he might have stood out. As it was he was comfortably invisible in the background noise of a normal day in Faerie's largest city.

Dracopolis was not a place that welcomed strangers, except insofar as it tolerated them, in the days before the great Vanishing tolerance and welcome were not separated by much. In days to come the world would learn better manners. As far as Saeed could tell that just meant you said please and thank you while you were twisting the knife.

Saeed was not bitter, he preferred to think of himself as careful. Saeed was no liar he preferred to think of himself as a victim of circumstance. A thief? Well, some things Saeed could not deny because he didn't want to think of himself as a liar.

The difference between young Saeed and old Saeed was a matter of degree and a matter of relationships. When he was a boy Saeed stole food to live, now he stole things he didn't care about in exchange for money he could use to buy the food he had once stolen. Saeed didn't care about the things he stole but he cared very deeply about who got hurt.

Saeed had made a vow never to lie, and, in the meanwhile, a second vow never to intentionally harm anyone. The first was a vow he had made to his dead mother. His mother, being dead, knew nothing of this. The second vow he had made before his teacher, in the room his teacher called dojo, within his master's house at Luminis. Saeed took the second vow very seriously, as seriously as he took the first, but for entirely different reasons.

The walls of the Diamond Treasure House reminded Saeed of the walls of Luminis. The Treasure House Walls were intended to be intimidating but they were no more than a shadow compared to the barrier that kept those who were not ready out of the city at the brink of forever.

As dusk gave way to night street lights made a declaration that Dracopolis did not intend to stop just because the sun had set. This, too, reminded Saeed of the city where he had learned so much. The similarities were slight, nothing could compare to the glowing heart of Luminis by night.

The Tavern on the Plaza of Diamonds, became louder as the darkness deepened. The pedestrian traffic slowed and thinned. Saeed became more visible as a result, that was never a comfort. Thankfully the people who remained were all preoccupied with each other, none of them were looking at him.

It was still some time from Midnight Bell but if Saeed waited then he risked becoming even more conspicuous. He stood and crossed the square to the Temple of Turan. He hoped that no one had discovered his cache or the preparations he had made to gain entry.

As he crossed the square a young woman, laughing, stumbled out of a party of merry makers and nearly collided with him. He saw her coming, stepped to one side and caught her before she could fall to the floor.

The young woman looked up into Saeed's face, Saeed shifted his head forward so that his features would remain obscured by shadow. They young woman did not appear afraid, she was still smiling.

"Thank you sir," she said. "I'm afraid I got carried away."

Saeed lifted the woman to her feet and gave her a small bow from the waist. He made sure that his hood kept his face from view.

"Don't you speak?" the young woman asked.

Saeed did not want to be remembered as any more than a man in a cloak. He looked at the party of people that the woman had emerged from. They were nearly over to the opposite edge of the square now. Saeed pointed after them.

The young woman looked.

"I don't even know if you have a handsome voice now," the young woman said. "But I felt that you were strong."

She smiled at him, her eyes sparkled in the light from the crystal lamps that lit the square. She was a young Draco, very beautiful. Saeed was not here to fraternise, he just stood waiting for her to move on, or at least to take her eyes off him. She studied him for a moment longer before saying:

"You really are no fun at all," then she turned and chased after her friends.

Out of habit Saeed checked his pockets, but the encounter had not felt like a pickpocket's attack of opportunity. Of course, the best attacks of that nature did not.

Satisfied that he still possessed everything that he needed to proceed Saeed carried on to a small trade entrance at the side of the temple building. From the inside of his cloak he drew a long wire with a hooked end.

He worked the wire in between the wood and the jamb at the hinge end and fished around for a moment. When he pulled the wire back a thin, strong cord was caught on the hook. Saeed picked up the cord and lifted it until he felt the tug of it coming free from the screw that he had wedged it behind on the opposite side. Then he pulled at it gently at about waist height, about where he remembered the bolt being earlier. He felt the bolt slide back. He undid the latch and opened the door, retrieving the cord and stowing it, along with the wire hook in his cloak.

From a pouch at his waist he took a small screwdriver and retrieved the screw he'd used to wedge the cord earlier. He put the screw and the screwdriver back into the pouch. Once he had closed the door, he shot the bolt again leaving no evidence that he had been here at all, except for the tiny hole left by the screw at the hinge end.

Saeed climbed the steps of the temple's offering tower. All Temples to sky gods had tall towers, the law of the city meant that it could not be as tall as the treasure house walls, but it was tall enough for Saeed.

The visitors to the temple had not found Saeed's means of entry, neither had they found the wooden box he had stored in the chimney of the offering room. The wood on the lower side was sooty, the priests had made an offering at some point after Saeed had stowed the box. Saeed's box was varnished with a flame-retardent, it had easily withstood the heat of the fire.

Saeed opened the box and pulled out a crossbow and an arrow with a hard, barbed tip. The head of the arrow trailed a thin cord of dark rope in which could be seen fine filaments of metal. Saeed mounted the arrow into the crossbow, went over to the window of the offering room that faced the treasure house, took careful aim and fired the arrow so that it stuck into the stone near the summit of the wall.

Saeed tested the arrow's hold and found it to be satisfactory. He tied the far end of his thin cord about the bracket of a sconce in the wall opposite the window. This done he hoisted himself off the floor onto the rope and used a clip on his belt to secure him to the cord. His feet pointed back towards the sconce, his head was oriented toward the wall of the treasure house. He began to climb along the rope over the square towards the Treasure House.

This was the riskiest part of the enterprise. He had no contingency for falling. Thankfully he could not be seen from the ground the light from the crystal lamps was reflected downwards by metallic hoods on the fittings. He edged swiftly over the space between the top of the tower and top of the treasure house wall.

He did not pull himself all the way over. Stopping about fifteen feet from the end of the rope. He rested at a point pre-marked in the rope where the silver filament running through the cord stopped. Saeed double checked that the absence of filament was not a trick of the light by sniffing the rope. The pungent aroma of the treatment of the last fifteen feet told him that he had stopped in the right place.

He reached carefully into his pocket for a preprepared alchemical tinderstick he had made. He brought his boot carefully to his waist by bending his knee and struck the tinderstick against a rough patch on the toe of the boot. Then he slowly turned the flaming spill and wedged into a hole drilled into the sole of the boot at the front.

Saeed lifted his toe up and touched the flame to the rope behind him, where the filament started. The rope burst into a fast burning bright red flame and vapourised instantly all the way back down to the tower.The light was intense but the red colour was not bright and lasted only for an instant. The rope, now effectively bissected, fell towards the treasure house wall.

Saeed twisted his body and swung his legs round, bracing for the impact. As he hit the wall a shock ran up his legs along with a little pain, but it was bearable. Once he had stabilised himself Saeed set about getting over the top of the wall. Wrapping the cord of the rope around his right arm for extra stability he began to run sideways along the wall using the rope to help him also run upwards. When he felt that momentum had taken him as far as he would go he spun his heel and ran the other way.

Several times he repeated this action, each time picking up speed, changing the motion from running to a kind of guided swinging. On the last pass he threw his weight up at the end of the spring and sailed over the top of the wall feet first. Bracing himself again he hit the wall on the other side. The impact on his feet was not as hard but the rope burned the skin on his right arm a little.

Hanging there, six hundred feet in the air above the courtyard of the treasure house Saeed took a moment to compose himself before reaching into his cloak and pulling out the slender silver spider cord that would take him to the ground. One end of the spider cord had a metal clip on it in the shape of a lily blossom. Saeed held the lily head to the end of the thicker rope he had fired from the bow. Working a catch on the underside of the clip the petals of the lily sprung shut binding the spider cord to the rope.

Saeed released the rest of the cord to fall into the dark shadowy canyon between the treasure house and the interior side of the wall. He tested that the clip was holding and then transferred his weight to the spider cord. Once he was sure that the spider cord was firm he clipped it through a sprung metal loop on his belt and slid down the cord in a number of jumps down the wall.

Once Saeed's feet had made contact with the ground again he twisted the spider cord in a clockwise direction and, with a few twists, the cord clip released. Saeed quickly regathered the length of spider cord together and placed it back in the knee pocket in his breeches.

Now he was ready to get inside the treasure house. Saeed looked about the thin strip of cobbled courtyard that ran around the base of the building. It was extremely dark down here, more shadow than light. Saeed had prepared for this as well. He took a vial of night's eye drops from a pouch on his belt. He dripped the drops onto the surface of his open eyes and, as the liquid spread across the surface his vision blurred and then cleared, bringing the shadows into focus.

Saeed had descended on the eastern side of the treasure house. There was no entrance to the main building here. He would have to go around to the south side, there would only be one entrance and exit. The disadvantage of this for thieves was that the entrance was bound to be heavily guarded. The advantage was that guard patrols were light, in many cases non-existent.

Taking a peek around the nearby corner Saeed could see a pair of trolls had been left on guard at the main entrance. This was all in line with the operation information he had bought from the goblin in Ferrowmarsh. Saeed had planned ahead for this eventuality.

Using his pocket knife Saeed prised a chunk of cobble out of the ground. Then he pulled the mirror brooch from his belt and clipped it to the outside of his cloak. Still out of sight behind the corner Saeed opened the metal shell that covered the top of the mirror crystal and a perfect copy of him appeared directly opposite him.

Using the angle setting controls embedded in the rim of the brooch Saeed offset his reflection to appear about six feet away from him and slightly off to the right. Then he covered the crystal again and the mirror image phantom disappeared.

Sticking close to the edge of the north wall Saeed crept up to the side of the entrance, remaining in shadow as much as he was able. As he drew within about half a dozen yards of the trolls he threw his rock into the shadows beyond the entrance to strike against the outside wall with a hard crack.

The trolls instantly leaned forward to examine the shadows, exchanging a puzzled glance. Saeed flipped the shell on the mirror brooch and his cloaked form appeared before the trolls. Saeed tried to look as if he was pausing, wondering if he'd been discovered, waiting for the trolls to see him.

One of the trolls pointed at the mirror phantom.

"You!" it cried out. "Stop there!"

Saeed turned, away, knowing the mirror phantom would do the same. He ran a few yards away and out from the walls. He looked back over his shoulder to see the trolls giving chase as the phantom appeared to melt into the shadows.

Saeed closed the brooch shell, spun on his heel and ducked in through the main entrance of the treasure house. He was not out of the wood, but the guard patrols within the vaults should not be as hard to evade as the sentries at the entrance. The warren of narrow corridors and shadowy alcoves was where Saeed felt most at home it didn't take him long to find vault number 425, the lock on the door was almost embarrassingly easy to pick.

For a moment or two Saeed considered the possibility that this had all been an elaborate trap but his fears quickly appeared groundless as he observed the target of his mission, the rainbow lattice, a magical device forged by a powerful druid, Cyrus September.

Wanting to be done with his work as quickly as possible Saeed stepped into the treasure room. Something in the corner of his field of vision caught his eye and he only just managed to raise the grieve protecting the underside of his left arm before a blow aimed at the side of his head made contact. The force of the blow left Saeed in no doubt that his assailant would have rendered him unconscious. The attacker had not reckoned with Saeed's sharp reflexes, born of much training in his master's dojo.

The fight began in a flurry of blocks, strikes and attempted grapples. Whoever this stranger was he had learned some of the unarmed combat techniques that Saeed had learned in Luminis. Saeed needed some time to work out the stranger's style of combat if he was to have any hope of turning it against his opponent.

Talking during a fight was not encouraged but Saeed believed that he might be able to apply the pressure of persuasion to the situation, so he broke the rule:

"Guards finding us fighting won't care that you're trying to stop me," Saeed said.

The opponents fist attempted to plant itself in Saeed's ribs. Saeed danced backwards, evading the hook. As he did so he got a chance to get a better look at his opponent. The man was male, a little older than Saeed, dark haired, full beard neatly trimmed. The man had designs shaved into the sides of the beard where they cut down to his jaw over his ears. The designs were intricate, probably symbolic of rank and also magical. The man wore several jewelled rings, which also indicated that he had some magical power.

Without responding the man stepped forward, planting his feet and raising his arms, adopting a fighting stance. The man had positioned himself between Saeed and the entrance to the treasure room. Saeed noted a sword hung at the man's waist. It became plain that the man could easily have killed Saeed, with metal or magic, but had chosen not to.

"You don't want to kill me," Saeed said. "Is there no agreement we can come to?"

"You leave now, without the lattice, we part, we don't see one another again," the man replied, his tone flat.

"You seem well equipped in every respect, my friend," Saeed replied. "Save that you packed no sense of humour."

"You think this situation is funny?" the stranger asked him.

"Any situation is what you make of it," Saeed replied. "There's no personal animosity between us, unless you are the owner of that artifact, which I do not believe you are."

"Regardless of who I am," the stranger said. "You have no right to the lattice. I will not allow you to take it."

"What does it matter to you?" Saeed asked. "I am just an agent, if I fail another will come."

"If you want to prove that there is more to you than thievery," the man said. "Tell me who sent you here."

"So you do want to threaten my life, no thief can be trusted with the name of their true master," Saeed said. "I am no more than an agent hired, in turn by an agent. The woman who retained my services in this task was a mercenary by the name of Miranda Felix. I do not know who retained her, it is entirely possible she doesn't know either. She knows enough to recognise information she doesn't want to hold."

"Felix?" the man said. "Don't tell me you took a job from her."

"I did some research, no one will be hurt as a result of this job," Saeed said. "This is something I am very particular about."

"I'm going to reach for my pack," the man said. "Do not attempt to escape."

Saeed could only honestly admit to the man that he would take any quarter that was given, so he didn't say anything at all. The man reached his hand behind him, not removing his eyes from Saeed. At the last moment, overtaken by urgency, the man looked away to his pack. Saeed ducked forward and grabbed the lattice before heading for the door.

"Don't-" the man said.

Then things began to go in a very strange direction. Saeed heard the tinkle of a small glass vial breaking in the doorway. In an instant he was surrounded in a choking grey-purple fog. Saeed fell to the floor and the next thing he knew he was looking up into the blurry face of the strange man from the treasure room.

"Are you awake?" the man demanded. "How do you feel?"

Saeed's head felt like it had been hit with a mallet. He groaned.

"What happened?" he asked.

"You'll be fine, stay away from the treasure room," the man said. "Stay here, don't try to move."

Then the man was gone, running off down the corridor, as if giving chase to someone.

Saeed couldn't work out what was happening. One moment he had been sailing through the air, the lattice tucked under one arm and the next he was here, without the lattice, lying on the floor.

It was all very well for the mysterious stranger to tell him to stay put, but what if a guard patrol came by? Then Saeed would be caught and imprisoned. No one should be in the Treasure House without authorisation, no exceptions.

Saeed struggled to sit up, but the pain in his head was accompanied by a weakness in his limbs. He managed to raise his head a little but his arms didn't seem to want to work.

"Well," a female voice said from somewhere over his head, out of view. "You appear to have screwed this up. I should leave you but, I must confess, you seem to strike at a soft spot I didn't even know I had."

A face appeared in the corner of his field of vision: Miranda Felix, smiling at the prospect of having Saeed under her control.

"Come on," she said. "I'll help you up. We'd better get out of here."

Miranda offered Saeed a hand, he forced his arm to reach up and accept it. Between the two of them they got Saeed to his feet.

"What are you doing here?" Saeed asked as they began to make their way, slowly, along the corridor. Miranda was supporting Saeed more than he would have liked.

"Call it an intuition," she said. "When I checked on you in the square before you entered the temple I got the impression that I may have asked too much of you."

"I would have been fine, except for the stranger," Saeed complained.

"What stranger?" Miranda asked.

"Don't move," the stranger said behind them.

"I've heard that voice before," Miranda said. She did not sound too concerned but she had stopped moving. "Prince Weatherstrong, what brings you to the heart of the Terra Draconis?"

"Passing through," the stranger, Saeed now recognised as Avan Weatherstrong, a hero in some tales that he had been told when he was a boy. "I saw your puppet here, and your exchange in the square. I decided that it couldn't be good news so, I followed. Good job too by the look of things, return the lattice."

"She doesn't have the lattice," Saeed said. "She was my contact remember, she paid me to retrieve it."

"She paid you to take the blame for its theft," Avan replied. "She always intended to leave you here to face the consequences of her actions."

"You always had such a dark view of me, Avan," Miranda said. "If you are going to insist on being such a bore then I have no real choice but to comply with your request."

"Slowly," Avan said as Miranda reached over her head to her back pack.

There was another of those confusing moments in which Saeed felt a sick twist of giddyness. He was flying through the air, he collided with something... someone... then he was on the floor again.

"She's getting away," Avan said from underneath Saeed.

Recovering a little more health by the second Saeed struggled to get off Prince Weatherstrong. Once free the prince leaped to his feet and ran off in pursuit of Miranda. Saeed, determined not to be left behind again, followed on afterwards.

It appeared that Prince Weatherstrong had no more right to be in the treasure house than Saeed, they had to pause a couple of times and reroute to avoid guard patrols. Avan lead Saeed down below the ground level of the treasure house and out through an entrance to the Dracopolis sewer system that hadn't been on any of the treasure house plans.

Saeed was too grateful to have got away alive and undetected to ask about that means of entry and escape right away. Avan didn't even really seem to acknowledge that Saeed was following him.

After a short run through the twists and turns of the sewer system Avan found a way up that surfaced below a grate in an alley adjacent to the Market Square. As soon as the two men climbed up onto the streets of Dracopolis it was clear that something was wrong. In the south the sky was orange-lit with flames and there was a tang of smoke upon the air.

"Felix," Avan muttered. "What have you done."

Saeed, tired of feeling out of his depth, plundered his study of the layout of Dracopolis for an answer to Avan's question.

"The jailhouse," Saeed said. "That's in the south. You don't think..."

"You don't know at all who you were working for," Avan replied. "That's exactly the kind of thing that she would do."

"I have spent a long time in a place where I learned much about my own nature," Saeed said. "I am afraid I do not know much of the nature of others. This is what I came out into the world to learn."

"Well, your first lesson is that some people enjoy bending chaos and destruction to suit their own ends," Avan said. "They leave others to help clean up their mess."

The prince turned away from Saeed and strode off towards the Market Square, Saeed could hear the sounds of terrified people screaming and shouting in the distance. His cheeks burned with shame that he had been played for such a fool. He hurried after Prince Weatherstrong once again.

"Please, Prince Weatherstrong," Saeed said. "I am a simple thief, but I have my own code. No harm should come to anyone as a result of my actions. As Melinda has unleashed the inhabitants of the jailhouse to cover her escape if I do not help to end this then I am, indeed, partially responsible. I will help."

"Do as you will," Avan replied. "It is none of my concern."

Saeed wanted to insist that if he could not win the respect of the prince then he would feel that he had faced a great and shaming failure. That was a personal issue, though, for which there may be time later. Saeed could hear his master's voice in his ear, telling him that, in the first instance, he should help to contain the problem that he had created. If he wanted Avan Weatherstrong's respect then that would have to come later.

And indeed it would; in fact, the two would work together to defeat Miranda Felix, and the person behind her actions. But that is a long story, for another time.

In Which Saeed Comes To The Brink Of Forever

Saeed travelled alone across the Turnaround Bridge, through the rainbow mist, on to destinations unknown. The one thing he was reasonably clear on was that he was travelling on toward his final destination, a reconciliation with his mother, a chance to apologise for the wrong that he had done.

Obtaining the price the Keeper of the Way had demanded, the seal of Kalico, master of the Patchwork Market at Bridgetown, had been hard enough. Saeed had seen many things in the execution of his tasks, experiences he was storing away carefully within his head in preparation for the time when he would once again see his mother.

He hoped that this time would now be close at hand for, overall, Saeed felt that his mind was becoming very full indeed. If much more happened to him on the road there was a chance that he might forget things that had happened to him and that would not be a good thing at all.

The way across the Turnaround Bridge was long, the bridge itself was narrow at the start. As it continued out through the strange coloured mists that surrounded him the bridge changed in shape, until it was clear that this way was not a single bridge but, apparently, many bridges strung together through a vast, indistinct void.

The bridge continued on for such a distance that Saeed began to feel a little concerned. There was no indication whether the other side of the bridge was close at hand, or whether he'd even got halfway across. There was just the narrow path through nothingness, no end in sight.

Eventually the bridge broadened, a ramp carried Saeed up onto a wide suspension bridge. He still had not reached the opposite side and he began to detect other people wandering through the mist.

The people were dressed in a variety of outfits. Some Saeed recognised, some he did not. All were walking parallel to Saeed, across the bridge and on to the other side. Saeed did not see one person attempting to cross the other way.

Before long the number of people had grown quite large. Saeed could not identify himself as a lone traveller, instead finding himself enfolded within a shuffling throng, all walking in one direction, all looking about at their fellow travellers in some confusion.

"I was not expecting to meet so many people on this path," Saeed said to the closest person to him, an old man, a gnome sat upon his shoulders.

"Many seek Luminis," the man replied. "Few gain entrance."

"I know you will think this to be a strange admission," Saeed said. "But I did not know this path lead to a place called Luminis. All I know is that it is a place I must be."

The older man smiled.

"That is probably not uncommon," he said. "I am just acting as a guide for my friend here," he indicated the gnome. "He has lost his purpose. He must find a new one or return to the source."

"I think it's been time enough for Splinterflame," the gnome said cheerily. "I imagine that it is my time to return whence I came, beyond the Central City, into the heart of creation itself."

"I'm afraid I am not very educated," Saeed said. "I do not really follow what it is you are saying."

"Education does not matter," the older man said. "All that matters is what the gatekeepers decide."

"I see," Saeed said. "Well, I hope that they decide in my favour."

"All do," the man said. "There's really no way to tell until you get to the walls."

"Look!" came a cry from the front of the crowd. "There it is!"

The crowd instantly hushed, all conversation dying upon every tongue. Every one looked up and out towards the distant horizon, still wreathed in the indistinct lightly-hued mists.

Then, the mists broke, far in the sky the black shapes of tall spires became visible, the colour overhead went from a varied patchwork of different shades to a clear and brilliant blue. The heat of a bright sun washed over the crowd.

A few steps further on and tall walls of large dark brick became visible, a few steps further again and the party crossed the far side of the bridge, stepping from a wooden floor to a white brick path winding through an expansive green valley towards an enormous structure built into the dark wall up ahead. The spires that had been the first visible sign of Luminis were the only part of the enormous city beyond the dark walls that could be seen from the path.

A ramshackle settlement had been erected at the foot of the wall. None of the structures that made up this encampment looked permanent or particularly safe for the inhabitants. There were a few proper tents and permanent caravans but alongside this were poorly built shacks constructed out of loosely piled rocks or pieces of discarded wood.

As the crowd passed by, walking on towards the gigantic archway at the foot of the enormous gatehouse of Luminis Saeed looked about himself trying to assess what kinds of people lived in the settlement at the base of the walls. There were many people from the bridge crowding in all about him but Saeed caught glimpses of goblin traders and many people who looked like the beggars from the streets of Afsana where he had grown up.

As the archway loomed closer Saeed began to worry that he had not questioned where the Turnaround Bridge would send him, just that it would bring him closer to his mother. Of course, his mother had been taken by death. Was this a place of the dead?

Luminis did not look like any paradise that Saeed had ever imagined, and if it was, who were all those dwelling in the shanty town? Were they the sinful? Was that the judgement that was to follow? Would Saeed's own guilt at his thievery prevent him from gaining access to this celestial city?

Saeed found it hard to believe that he was standing before the entrance to paradise. Much aside from anything else why would the righteous have to walk past the wicked to cross the threshold to their reward? If they saw others suffering and did nothing then how righteous were they anyway?

Much apart from these challenging concepts Saeed could feel sun on his face, a slight breeze blowing in from the mountains to his left. He did not feel dead, he did not remember dying, so this could not be a land for the dead or a place of ultimate judgement.

Maybe Saeed was wrong but he believed that whatever Luminis was, it wasn't a land of the dead. He would have an opportunity to find out shortly, because he was about to pass through the arch into the gatehouse and out of the sun-filled valley.

On the other side of the arch was a huge courtyard with a gigantic polished marble floor. It reminded Saeed of the Caliph's Palace at Afsana but colder, the structure had a feeling of officiousness that he associated with the Patchwork Market more than any part of his home city.

All around the courtyard were a number of narrow doorways, standing at each doorway was a strangely dressed usher in a little round hat, a blue jacket, a white shirt and straight blue trousers. Saeed had never seen such an outfit before. The closest thing he had seen was Joshua's clothing but that had been more dark and serious. The bright blue and white of these uniforms made the ushers look a little like clowns.

Even so they motioned for members of the throng to come forward and step through the doorways, and people were going. As the crowd kept moving forward and out to the side so Saeed drifted closer to a doorway. As he reached the threshold the usher looked Saeed in the eye and said.

"Go along until you reach an open doorway, then go right inside, first one you see."

The usher reached out a white-gloved hand and guided Saeed into the passageway before he had time to object or ask any questions.

For the first time on his journey Saeed began to feel afraid. He had embarked upon his journey without fear, he now realised, because he had thought of his eventual goal as being fairly straightforward and obvious. He had seen his mother die, the angel of death had told him where to begin his journey, that step had lead to the next, had lead to the next, had lead... here.

This strange, long, cool, dark stone corridor, like so many he had already seen, with closed doors ranged against the right hand wall. In the distance he could make out the triangle of yellow light demarcating the first open door upon the route.

There were people already gathering behind him. Saeed stepped forward before he had the time to consider whether he wanted to keep walking forward or not. It occurred to him that the time to turn away had already happened at a time when he would never have considered it. He hadn't been allowed to back away for some time now.

Given no choice, his stomach yawning with a hollow dread he could not name, Saeed walked along the corridor towards the square of light. He reached the door quickly and peered over the threshold. Sat inside the room beyond the door was a young woman dressed like some of the more monied residents of the Patchwork Market, in a plain but elegant dress that came down towards the mid point of her calves, her feet wrapped in pointy soft leather boots.

The young woman's fair hair was gathered in a precise knot on the crown of her skull. She wore jewelled earrings and a single ring on her left hand. She did not appear to be wearing make up.

"Saeed Ibn Abihi?" the young woman asked. "Please, come in, sit down."

The woman motioned to a chair opposite her position. In between them, slightly off to one side was a tea set that reminded Saeed of Joshua's house.

Saeed stepped inside and sat down. The woman went over and gently closed the door, then she returned to her seat.

"Really, there's no need to look so frightened. This is just a little chat about why you've come to Luminis. If I decide entering the city would be in your best interests then there won't be a problem."

"I must say," Saeed said. "I did not really know that I was coming to Luminis. I did not even know such a place existed. I merely knew that this was a step upon my journey to be reunited with my mother."

"You believe your mother is here?" The woman asked. She picked up the tea pot. "Tea?"

"No, thank you," Saeed said. "I really don't know if my mother is here, the Keeper of the Turnaround Bridge took a price from me and when I crossed the bridge this is where I found myself."

"Have some tea, dear," the woman said. "It will relax you. You look like you need to relax."

She poured Saeed a cup of tea, then she picked up her own cup and sipped from it.

"So your mother might not be in Luminis?" the woman said.

"I think the Turnaround Bridge uses magic to determine the destination of the traveller," Saeed said. "I don't think it would have sent me here if I didn't need to be here."

"Ah but it's old magic," the woman said. "Deep magic. This whole place is the product of some of the oldest and deepest magic that exists. I think it is without doubt that you do need to enter the city. The question then becomes whether you should enter now, today."

"I am really just looking to apologise for a lie I told to my mother," Saeed said. "That is all I want in the world."

"And if you get all that you want in the world," the woman said. "What then?"

"I... don't know," Saeed said. As he sat, sipping at the tea he didn't want, considering questions he hadn't wanted to consider a great sadness reawakened in Saeed. He had diverted the pain, looking ahead to his goal but the woman's questions had brought to him a great realisation. When Saeed met his mother again it would be an apology and a farewell. Things would never be as they once had been.

"Then maybe you need to know," the woman said. "This is a place people come to learn, Saeed. A place they come to become what they must be to do the things they must do. Nobody has come here to deliver an apology. I am afraid I cannot approve your entry into the city. It has been lovely to talk with you though. When you're ready go through the door in the back corner."

She indicated a door visible over her left shoulder before sipping, silently, at her tea. She did not speak again.

Saeed didn't know what to do or say. Should he argue back? The woman's logic did not appear sound, what if his mother was in Luminis? What if this was the end of Saeed's journey and he was being turned away?

On the other hand, what if she was right? What if this was yet another step along the road, a road that may not include a stop in Luminis? The only problem with that was the thought of what to do next. Saeed did not know another way onwards.

"So," he said carefully, "when it is my time to enter Luminis I should come back to this place?"

"There are many ways to enter Luminis," the woman said. "Today this was the route chosen for you."

"Chosen by whom?" Saeed asked.

"By the source, the powers of the weave, the aspect of fate," the woman said. "That is how the Hall of Entrance works."

"Well," Saeed said, standing up. "Thank you for your time. I am sorry that my case failed to meet your expectation for entry to the city."

"There will be other days," the woman said. "You must understand that it is nothing personal."

"I do," Saeed said. "Thank you."

Saeed moved around the table with the tea set and out through the door at the back. The door lead into a corridor that stretched on for a long while before making a couple of sharp left turns and eventually depositing Saeed back outside the walls of Luminis to the rear of the shanty town.

"A thief I am," Saeed muttered to himself, looking about the shacks and mud paths that defined the shanty town. "So like a thief I must enter this city."

Saeed did not know if the young woman in the Hall of Entrance had intended to imply that Saeed could just walk outside and try to gain entrance to the city of Luminis by other means but this was what he had taken from her explanations. Saeed walked through the shanty town, instantly feeling more comfortable about his surroundings.

Looking about himself Saeed determined that, despite the modesty of the encampment, this was not as miserable a place as such dwellings tended to be. The wood and metal of the shack construction was usually quite clean, free from evidence of erosion by the elements. The doors to many of the shacks stood open and homey little spaces were visible within. These accomodations were sparse but not spartan.

Some residents had book shelves, others shrines, others displayed works of art or musical instruments. This did not appear to be a place of desperation, merely a stopping point, something like a travelling market or a festival encampment.

The people of the shanty town moved back and forth around Saeed, about their business. Eavesdropping upon their conversations Saeed determined that, rather than discussing hunger, poverty or hardship, their minds were occupied with matters of philosophy, aesthetics and mysticism.

This was a place more curious than the enigmatic city within the mighty walls beyond. A hastily erected community of intellectuals that sat below the mighty dark stone walls of Luminis. Presumably these were others who had come through the Hall of Entrance and been turned away.

Saeed was perplexed. He was a thief, he was reasonably confident that he could find an opportunity to steal into Luminis if he looked hard enough. These men and women were scholars, what was the purpose of their encampment? The young woman had told Saeed that all who were ready could enter Luminis via the Hall of Entrance. If you were not ready, according to the administrators, you had to seek another way in. Sitting in shacks discussing the nature of reality did not appear to be in anyone's best interests.

Before he could think further upon this matter the opportunity he had searched for presented itself. Saeed had learned long ago how to spot an opportunity. He had also learned that if you didn't take an opportunity as it came up the door could often close.

He could see a small fringe of the encampment was packing itself up. A man in uniform was shouting orders to a number of other men in uniform, of various shapes and sizes. They were packing up their dwellings and pulling sacks of clothes and supplies onto their back.

"The prince is waiting, he can't wait forever," the man was shouting. "His advisors have worked long and hard to lift the blockade and now he must enter the city with his guard protecting him. Hurry! Hurry!"

The men in uniform were too busy to pay much attention to Saeed as he moved through their encampment. They failed to question him when he located a trunk filled with parts of the guards' uniforms. No one cared when Saeed donned a uniform and then, dressed in black breeches and tunic, a fine mail tabard and a pointy metal helmet, began to assist in the packing of the encampment.

Before long pallets were loaded and packs were worn upon the soldier's backs. Saeed himself was carrying a heavy pack containing some kind of ground meal. The guards formed a column and marched towards the entrance hall, Saeed in their midst.

The process of taking the opportunity had occupied all of Saeed's mind for the time until the column of soldiers he had joined began their march into the city of Luminis. As the army marched to the right of the entrance hall and through a large opening that had not been there a few hours before Saeed had an opportunity for his own doubts and fears to catch up with him.

Before they quite could he spent some time scanning the rest of the shanty town for signs of others trying to breach the gap in the walls of Luminis. A few intellectual types stood by, watching the prince's guard enter the city, but no one seemed ready to cheat the system the way that Saeed was.

Of course, if anyone was cheating exactly the way that Saeed was Saeed would probably not know about it, that was the core of his plan. He had one final opportunity to wonder whether what he was now doing was for the best or not. He was a thief, his existence revolved around obtaining his desires by stealth, not always entirely in sympathy with the wishes of others.

Was this really how he should continue his life? What was he to do otherwise? At the moment his conscience was clear because his skills were in the service of a loftier goal, and his own personal code meant that, should he be asked, he could not help but be honest. As the young woman had said to him in the Hall of Entrance: what would come after?

Maybe going into Luminis was a mistake, he had been refused entry already. All he knew was that he had no where else to go and nothing else to do right now, so this was what would have to be. Maybe, he considered as he marched on through the breach to enter Luminis, he would have to think about some ways to change that.

This he did, among many other things that happened to him within the walls of Luminis, but all those are stories for another time.

Avan Weatherstrong and the Impostor Prince

This is a tale of the days that followed Avan Weatherstrong's loss of the shapeshifter maid Kal'Hath. Prince Weatherstrong had never previously been given to strong moods, particularly not to sadness. In the case where one has just lost first love such tempestuous emotions are unavoidable.

Avan and Kal'Hath had journied together, fought evil together and had cultivated a love born out of mutual respect and absolute trust. Such a combination of emotions, promises and actions is rare in the world and the loss of such a love would possibly have overwhelmed a lesser man.

Prince Weatherstrong determined, even as he left behind the ragblossom tree marking the grave of Kal'Hath, that he must immediately work again in his continuing efforts to vanquish evil wherever he found it. By doing what is right he would honour the memory of Kal'Hath and remind himself of his destiny in life.

His opportunity to make a difference came up even before he left the Wylde Wood. A storm was blowing its way through the tall trees of the forest as Avan came upon a tree kingdom populated by a variety of sylphs and nymphs. As a prince, bearing a seal of the Hundred Kingdoms, Avan was received by the ruler of the kingdom, Lord Barkspry.

Avan had fully intended to take shelter from the storm with the Lord, thank him for his hospitality and be along his way when the weather had cleared. As Avan was shown to his room within the Lord's grand treedwelling he observed that preparations were being made for a celebration. It so happened that Lord Barkspry's daughter was to be married the very next day to the prince of a neighbouring kingdom.

Prince Weatherstrong was in entirely the wrong mood for a wedding celebration and hoped that the storm would be clear by morning. He retired to his room in order to rest. No sooner had he got his bearings in the large state room he had been allocated, within the bole of the major dwelling, than there was a knock upon the door.

Avan opened the door to see a young female nymph, an expression of troubled concern upon her face.

"You are the wandering prince to whom my father has offered his hospitality?" the nymph asked.

"Prince Avan of Weatherstrong, youngest of the nine, traveller upon the fringes, mage of the four winds," Avan replied, giving his full title, as was proper in formal situations.

"Princess Aurea Barkspry, first and only, faithful to the realm, most glorified bud upon the branches," the princess responded with her own title. "Prince Weatherstrong, I am in trouble, I believe you may be the only one who can help."

Upon hearing that sentence spoken Avan had a startling realisation. The weariness that he had felt bone-deep dissolved and he understood, in that instant, that it was not rest he required. The thought of helping another person instantly reinvigorated him, making him keen to know more.

Avan closed the door to his quarters and indicated that the princess should sit down.

"Please, Princess Barkspry," Avan said. "Tell me what you need."

"I do not believe that I will marry my betrothed tomorrow," Princess Barkspry said. "I believe that the man pretending to be my love is, in fact, a frog."

To many people the notion that a handsome prince could be a frog in disguise might stretch credulity. Of course, Avan Weatherstrong knew that for every thing that was there was the opposite thing also. A prince could be transformed into a frog, the common knowledge of the enchantment actually made it a fairly easy piece of mischief to work. For the reverse to be achieved would be no more difficult, the same communal notion that eased the transition of monarchy into amphibian would actually assist in the achievement of the reverse enchantment.

"Why do you think this to be the case?" Avan asked, his voice gentle.

"The realm of Barkspry has, for the longest time had problems with attacks from a particularly nasty witch Lilith Snakescale. She wants to harness the power in the roots of the major dwelling for her own dark purposes. We have managed to repel three separate attacks from lizard men, trolls and other creatures Lilith has bent to her will. I do not think she is content to try the direct approach again. I believe she intends to usurp the throne by marrying me to a puppet under her control."

"I understand your concerns," Avan said carefully. "But without any actual evidence is it not possible this is just a particularly bad manifestation of wedding nerves?"

"I know one thing," Princess Barkspry said. "My beloved Prince Azureleaf is a keen bowman, he never misses a day's archery practice, until about three weeks ago, he came back from the shooting range and hasn't returned to it since."

"He might be too busy preparing for the wedding," Avan pointed out.

"It could be, but he has also completely avoided contact with me in that time, we used to speak every day," the princess said. "It is a rare thing in a royal match for there to be genuine love and affection but this is what had grown between my prince and I. I do not believe this change in character has an innocent explanation."

"Maybe not," Avan said. "Your wedding day is tomorrow, why did you wait until I arrived to tell anyone of your concerns? Now you have, why did you choose me?"

"You are not the first person I chose," the princess said. "When I first became worried, just over a week ago, when I had not seen Larix for nearly five whole days, I went and confided in Petunia, my Lady's Maid. Petunia has been with me since I was born, she used to be my nanny, there is no one in the world I trust more than her. She said she would speak with Larix, find out what was happening. She went to see him that afternoon, that is the last anyone here in Barkspry has seen of her to this day.

"When Petunia went missing I went to the chief knight here at the major dwelling, he sent a soldier to look for Petunia. After three days he was found in the woods, savaged by a bear."

"So, you believe that the people of the realm are being watched, prevented from interfering?" Avan asked.

"I hope that, as you are just passing by, whatever enchantment may have cursed my fellow Sprys has not similarly afflicted you," the princess replied. "Otherwise I may, unfortunately, have doomed you as well."

"Death and I have an understanding," Avan said. "I do not believe that here is where we are next appointed to meet."

"So," Princess Barkspry said. "Will you help?"

"I am here taking advantage of your father's hospitality," Avan said. "I can hardly refuse. Besides, I have experienced too much sadness recently. I need occupation for my mind. If I can assist in the resolution of a matter involving true love then so much the better."

Thus, the princess pleased and Avan informed of the situation the pair went their separate ways. As Lilith Snakescale, if the prince's strange humour was her responsibility, had shifted her tactics from open hostility to silent coup Avan determined to meet her tactics appropriately.

Avan was not used to working an invisibility spell, he preferred to be direct in his dealings with friend and enemy alike. In this case the working would be a matter of discretion and good manners, in addition to being a battle strategy. Even so, Avan was dismayed to note that his working was not subtle enough to completely conceal him, he, rather appeared as a faint ghostly image before a looking glass. A further enchantment that coloured all the visible parts of his body, those that were caught in the strongest light, a dark grey and he was ready to begin his investigation.

Walking around the dwelling grounds Avan took the opportunity to familiarise himself with his new aspect, to minimise the chances of being spotted later on. He found that if he simply tried to stay out of people's way and was attentive to changes in the focus of those nearby he was as near to invisible as made no difference.

Once he was confident that he could move swiftly and silently about the major dwelling he proceeded to the guest branches of the tree and sought out Prince Azureleaf's quarters. The investigation was temporarily thwarted when Avan found the rooms empty upon his arrival. Avan took the opportunity to examine the prince's rooms and noted, with some interest, the large bathing pool, filled even whilst the room was empty. Several lily pads floated on the surface of the pool's water. Unusual decoration, unless it was intended to invoke a less domestic environment.

While Prince Weatherstrong was considering the pool the idea occurred to him that, if the prince really were a frog in disguise, the transformative element would possibly leave some kind of detectable residue behind. For a frog to be completely transformed into a copy of the prince would probably require the use of some heavily enchanted item. A spell such as Avan's cloaking enchantment could wear off at the wrong moment, ruining the plan.

Avan worked a subtle vision cantrip allowing him to spot patterns of heavy enchantment and, sure enough, a web of gold appeared in the room at around waist height, the trail of the item as it followed the prince back and forth about his business.

Avan followed the golden thread out of the room. Unfortunately, given three weeks, the impostor had gone in several directions out of the room about his business in the major dwelling. Avan followed the thread that seemed the brightest, hoping it would lead him to the impostor's location.

The thread wound through several passages away from the main throughfares of the major dwelling. It appeared that the impostor was about stealthy business himself. Eventually the trail led down to a staircase leading below the roots of the major dwelling deep under the earth.

The thread continued on its path through an underground drainage network built to help irrigate the dwellings of Leafspry. A door in one wall stood open and the thread continued on into a natural fissure in the earth and down in to a dark cave.

It was here that Avan found the impostor, and also the prince, chained up in a cage suspended from the vaulted ceiling of the cave. A complex witch's altar was set up to one side of the cave, the impostor stood before it conversing with a woman with light blue-purple skin, presumably Lilith Snakescale.

"I did not summon you here to complain about dry skin," the witch complained to her servant. "I summoned you here to receive the working that I have laboured hard to complete this last month."

"I am sorry mother," the impostor said. "It has just been so long since I have immersed my self in water and sung the brook's refrain."

Lilith thrust her face towards the impostor, her yellow eyes flashing with barely contained anger.

"Find the part of this face that cares about your folk tunes," she said. "Oh, that's right, you can't because there isn't any such part. Now, pay attention."

Lilith drew her self up to her full height and reached into a cauldron bubbling away to the side of the altar. From it she withdrew a silver short sword. Light rflecting off the blade's surface was tinted an odd green.

"This is a perfect replica of the Azureleaf blade, the ceremonial sword used by the prince's family. The only difference is that this carries with it the curse of blackest night."

Avan knew the curse of blackest night. If someone were killed with a weapon steeped in this darkest magic the withering power of the curse would reach out into the branches of the victim's family tree erasing not just the living members of the family but also cutting the ancestors out of time entirely.

"You marry the princess," Lilith explained to the impostor. "Then, on the wedding night plunge this sword into her heart. You will still be the regent of this place in the absence of Lord Leafspry, but as no one will  remember Lord Leafspry or any of his kin even existed you will be not only the sole ruler of Leafspry but also the heir to the kingdom of Azureleaf. Then all you have to do is kill Lord Azureleaf and one-fifth of the Wylde Wood belongs to me."

It was a plan as ambitious as it was cruel, Avan had heard enough.

"I'm afraid," he said, casting off the shadow enchantment, "that I cannot allow that to happen."

"Who is this?" Lilith screeched. "I told you to make sure you were not followed, imbecile."

"Wherever such evil is being worked," Avan said, drawing his own sword, "the weave has a way of ensuring it is uncovered, before too much damage can be done."

"You seek to skewer me on that pathetic blade?" the witch demanded haughtily. "You clearly do not know the nature of Lilith Snakescale."

With that the witch appeared to blow out her cheeks. Her head broadened and flattened, her skin's strange hue deepened, scales became evident across her smooth blue-white skin. Before long the witch had entirely transformed into a gigantic serpent, at least forty feet in length, her body filling the cave. The gigantic flat head of the snake sunk down to look into Avan's eyes.

"Go ahead," said the serpent, her voice high with hysteria. "Give it your best shot."

Having dealt with creatures on a similar scale before Avan knew that he had to pick his moves carefully. He swung the sword at the serpent's eye as Lilith opened her jaws wide to swallow the prince whole. Knowing that this was the serpent-witch's likely opening strike Avan revealed that his swing had been a feint. He twisted his wrist and jumped up into the open jaw intending to thrust his own sword through the roof of Lilith's mouth and into her serpent brain.

The plan suffered a setback when Avan's sword skidded off the serpent's skull, the blade ringing with the impact so hard it shattered. Avan leaped quickly out of the mouth as the jaws clamped shut, now completely without a weapon of his own.

"Didn't I mention?" Lilith screeched. "My bones are made of hardest steel, no sword can cut or shatter them. Now, stay still, showing my true face always makes me hungry."

Avan had no choice but to run as the giant serpent's head ploughed forward through the cave intent on catching him in its giant mouth. The snake was swift and Avan was being forced to react, he was being given no time to turn the tide of battle to his favour.

In desperation he cut to his right heading for the lever that kept the real Prince Azureleaf's cage suspended near the ceiling. He pulled it down before reversing direction and running for the centre of the cave past the open, venom dripping, jaws of the serpent to its left hand side. The snake's body flexed and the head was bearing down on Avan once again.

Avan dove forward underneath the falling cage and prayed to whichever gods might currently be both listening and in a benevolent mood that the last thing he did would not be to skid along the floor before being swallowed by a gigantic snake.

In fact, it wasn't. As the snake's head ploughed forward, intent upon its regal snack, it completely failed to note the falling lump of heavy metalwork above it. The cage bounced off Lilith's head, stunning her and bringing her charge to a halt.

Now was Avan's only chance to turn the tide of battle. He surveyed the scene around him, mostly filled with the shining blue purple scales of the giant snake that was trying to turn him into a late evening supper. The only exceptional feature in this landscape of sinuous serpentine muscle was the forlorn and confused figure of the impostor prince, still clutching on to the sword of blackest night.

The severity of the blade's curse was not one that Avan wished to be involved with, but at that moment he had little choice. He ran over to the imposter and wrestled the sword from his flimsy grasp. Without even thinking Avan spun and sent the sword flying in the direction of Lilith's head.

There was no point trying to penetrate the skull, he knew that now. His only option was to do what it had looked like he was going to in the first place. As the sword of blackest night left his hand Avan pushed it straight, swift and true with a little inertial charm and the sword plunged through the serpent's eye and on into the centre of Lilith's head.

The result was immediate and dramatic. Lilith Snakescale, and the blade she had enchanted, were instantly enveloped in oily shadows, the shadows shrunk to nothing in an instant leaving the cave empty of everything that had been present save for the two princes, Weatherstrong and Azureleaf, and a very confused looking frog.

The princess was united with her love and the wedding went off without a hitch. In fact, the kingdom Avan emerged into was a little wealthier than the one he had first arrived at as the money spent defending the kingdom from Lilith Snakescale had now, retrospectively, been put to better uses.

Avan was concerned that there would be some consequence to his use of the cursed blade, but as that had presented itself as the only option in his desperate fight he had to trust that the forces of the weave and wheel would see fit not to burden him with too heavy a price. Indeed there was a price for Avan to pay for his actions, how high the price is something you will have to judge for yourself another time for this tale is at its end.