Reus sniffed at the dark mouth of the stairwell, and he growled deep in his throat and snorted. The gigantic wolf would never be able to squeeze down into that sloping tunnel -- not without scraping his back and knocking his head -- and the overpowering smell of Kith made him uneasy. He scratched at the grass out of frustration, growled again, and suddenly shot a glare at Simon.

Somehow the wolf had just decided that all the chaos -- the fire, the flood, the Pirates, the Lord of Shadow, Chris' disappearance, the kidnapping of Talan and Fyair, the deaths of Randold and Hania and the old witch in the woods -- all of it was Simon's fault.

It was Simon who couldn't make up his mind whose side he was on. It was Simon whose bid for power burned an entire section of the forest to dust and flooded the rest. It was Simon who had somehow made enemies of the Pirates [i]and[/i] the Kith, and who had proven he would turn on his allies the moment something shiny presented itself.

Reus loomed over Simon, yellow eyes flashing -- and then with a shove of his great muzzle he forced the soothsayer to his feet and licked him harshly. The big wolf proceeded to groom Simon with his rough tongue, harsh and unforgiving. If Simon began to object, Reus would growl dangerously. Simon had been to several unsavory places, spoken to several unsavory spirits, and communed with troublesome thoughts with no real reason except pure selfishness. By grooming away the grime and sweat that coated Simon's skin, Reus also symbolically washed away all of Simon's mistakes and bad decisions, and offered one final chance for the soothsayer to redeem himself.

The owl had slipped quietly into the open stairwell.

The Lady of the Pond was quiet within the stone as Anise reached deep to find her. She would feel something ancient, like the silent dark depths of the ocean -- something trapped and angry, screaming from a dark distance for the return of her great endless waters, the titans of the sea, the waves and storms. She never troubled herself with the wants and needs of the land dwellers, and she had no care for the sun nor the Dragon nor the Lanterns -- only the promise that once the Lord of Shadow had gathered enough power to free her the waters would flow again. She screamed from the deep.

Fireflies sparked overhead.

The blue Lantern flashed. Anise knew, suddenly, that something red glowed high on a mountain, between here and the shipwreck.

[hr]

[h3][i]Meanwhile . . .[/i][/h3]

The dark forest teemed with chirrups and hisses and snaps and growls. Branches, thick with green, creaked and hushed. Stars peeked occasionally through moving leafy silhouettes.

A Lantern -- made of iron and glass -- hung overhead. It cast a bright, haunting red glow.

Artemis awoke alone in the forest. She had been lying on an ancient metal platform covered in roots and lichen, engraved with strange symbols and patterns. The symbol beneath her glimmered faintly where her skin had touched it.

The platform was embraced by the thick roots of a gnarled dead tree that loomed over Artemis, its veinlike branches glowing red in the light of the Lantern.

The tree was ticking.