It was quick like a blow to the head. Hot, crippling pain exploded in Erin's skull. A piercing light flashed behind her eyes. A terrible, trembling horror ripped through her like knives of ice. Blinded, she felt as if she were falling, falling from an impossible height, down and deep into a hungry hot chasm stretched wide to receive her like the great maw of a beast. Its damp swirling breath smelled bittersweet, like chocolate laced with a hint of cinnamon -- [i]"What do you mean, she stole the gryphon?!"[/i] an elderly woman's voice snapped in the distance. Erin awoke at night, sprawled on a dusty, warped wooden floor, surrounded by a chaos of books and bones and dried herbs and splinters of wood; everything was bathed in a soft red light. A shattered mug lay beside her, alongside an open torn book on herbology and a stiff squirrel with hollow eye sockets. All around her, the little one-room cabin was in shambles: mirrors, apples, jars, and shattered and broken metallic devices were flung everywhere. A closet at the back was propped open, and masses of armor and weapons had spilled out of it onto the floor: breastplates and helmets, boots and gloves, swords and staves and bows. All of the equipment was etched with odd sweeping symbols. A mechanical, owl-sized bird sat in a corner, whirring quietly. Above her, the wall and roof appeared to have been recently invaded by thick tree branches and sprawling roots; the wood panels were freshly shattered around the bark of the trespassing tree, as if it had suddenly attacked the cabin. Wood dust was piled on the countertop, and a deep cut had been made in the largest of the branches that thrust in through the kitchen and poked out of the broken ceiling. A glimmer of a starry night sky shone dark through the holes in the roof. At the center of the cabin, on top of the sturdy table that was the only thing that had survived the attack, sat the source of the eerie red light: a lantern with iron casing etched with symbols that seemed very different from those that were carved into the piles of armor. The iron enclosed a glass encasement, within which there was no flame -- instead, the source of the red light appeared to be an egg, protected within the lantern, the size of a small melon. [i]"I'm telling you the gryphon flew off with that girl on its back!"[/i] a male voice growled outside. Two people were outside, in back of the cabin; their voices carried over the nighttime sounds of crickets and toads and a faint gurgle of running water. [i]"Well you'll need another way to get back, then. Your brother's under the spell of that sun-child who's calling herself the Lady of Light, and who knows what she'll do to him. Don't fuss at me, just let me sit down." "The legend says they're supposed to [b]help[/b] us, Baba,"[/i] the man raged in frustration. [i]"What's happening?" "Everything's going to pot, [b]that's[/b] what's happening,"[/i] the old woman wearily griped. [hr] Oseely watched with great humor, his arms folded, as Artemis discovered a new and unconventional way to mount an unruly gryphon. Her triumph brought a hearty laugh and a few big-handed claps of applause; it was refreshing to see someone actually being resourceful around here. [b]"Hah! You wanna summon the fire-god, hah? Use your connections to your benefit, then? Hum!"[/b] His white grin flashed with humor; Artemis was nothing if not entertaining. [b]"I tellya what, I'll do ya one better. Hold out yer hand."[/b] He stepped forward -- when Nura started fidgeting, he calmed her with a quick "Sh!" -- and he simply tapped Artemis' palm with one finger. After a moment, Artemis would feel a gentle burning sensation in her hand, as if she'd just touched a hot coal. It faded after a moment, and a jagged rune glowed orange on her palm. After another few seconds, that too faded away. [b]"There. I'll share a bit of my power with ya. Fire and smoke, yeah? You'll figure that out on your own. If ya still wanna call me up, you'll have to make a fire and dance around it, and chant 'Orim Allin Siridu Say' until I appear in the flames."[/b] He said this very seriously, though he was trying very hard not to smile. None of it was necessary to summon him, but he thought it would be funny to see her try. He pointed out over the trees. [b]"Oyagun Nai is straight that way, you'll see it. Watch out for wolves."[/b] He gave her a wink and immediately vanished -- as if he had never been there at all. The dead forest loomed cold and dark around her, the burned trees like white bones sticking out of the ashes. The moon was low on the horizon, and the stars shone deep in the endless sky behind the mountain; the wind and the lights from before were all gone, and there was no sound. The shadows seemed to be moving -- undulating like ripples in water -- but then, it could just be a trick of the light. The first Artemis would see of Oyagun Nai was the sharp spire of a bright white lighthouse that flashed over the beach and the glistening ocean, highlighting the silhouettes of fishing boats and schooner sails. The village was clean white and bright blue -- all stone and glass and seashells -- their white round houses and long docks spilling out into the cove. People rushed and shouted in the dark, holding fire-flickering lamps that cast shadows on frozen gears and pulleys, dark glassy bulbs and still wires. Streetlamps hung dark over the docks; huge mechanisms over the ports were still and lilted, as if they'd collapsed; a panicked group of people in fishing boats chased after a barge that floated sideways away from the port, released from the machinery that had suddenly stopped working. A box of fresh bread and milk swayed suspended on one of the many dead pulley lines that crisscrossed above the village. The only light -- besides that of the lighthouse -- shone from a squat domed building that sat on the beach a small distance from the village itself, connected to it only by a straight stone road. Billows of white steam puffed out of several smokestacks that riddled the smooth roof; occasionally the light in the windows flashed green or blue or silver before dimming to the dull orange of firelight. The white stone building was covered in blue sweeping runes. [hr] Peck remained quiet and frightened, a few paces behind Anise, not daring to interrupt or even to look the Lady of the Pond in the eyes. His upbringing had taught him to never trust the Lords and Ladies, and to always show them the highest form of respect: complete and utter fear. When Anise spoke to him, he met her eyes for only a moment before he nodded silently, so intent was he to assure the Lady of the Pond that he wasn't here at all. He bowed his head again in respect, and waited for the conversation to be done. The two Kith, meanwhile, murmured between themselves and kept a close eye on the Lady of the Pond and the mysterious tattered girl who commanded two of the five Lanterns, both at the same time. They were entranced and enamored by the sight, and never once considered that they could be spotted. The Lady of the Pond peered into Anise for a moment, considering her words. [b]"You're concerned for my safety, at the hands of the Lord of Shadow?"[/b] Her perfect lips formed an amused smile. [b]"He is powerless against me. The water is unaffected by darkness; it flows in light, it flows in pure shadow. He could send the dead into my waves and they can gather at the bottom of the lake for eternity for all I care. He cannot threaten me, no matter how angry he might be. The Lord of Flame could boil me, The Lord of the Breeze could suck the lake dry; the Lady of the Stone could dam my rivers, and the Lord of the Wood could fill the lake with forests til their roots have devoured it -- but the Lord of Shadow is nothing. Keep that in mind, Lady of Light, as you discover the power I've drawn into your hand."[/b] She stepped back over the surface of the water, smiling dimly. [b]"Touch a circle in the surface of a bowl of water, and I will appear to you,"[/b] she told Anise. [b]"Should you have need of me, Lady of Light."[/b] With that, she dissipated in a shimmer of faint fog, and then there was nothing but the lap of the sparkling water of the lake. Peck released a breath he'd been holding, and he wiped sweat from his brow. [b]"Well. That went okay I guess? We gotta do that again, huh? The Lady of the Stone?"[/b] He was not at all happy about this. [b]"She's probably down in the old caverns under the mountain. That's a forbidden place, where the Dragon used to be sealed up. Haunted, too."[/b] He shifted from foot to foot, hoping Anise would just forget about the whole thing but knowing very well she was determined to keep going. [b]"It'll take at least half a day to walk there. Wish I hadn't sent my gryphon away, we could --"[/b] Peck suddenly fell forward, facefirst in the sand; a tendril of shadow had curled around his ankle, and dragged him instantly into the darkness of the woods. A dozen shimmering spirits -- rippling and bright-eyed -- stood beneath the branches, staring through Anise with a dead, chilling hopelessness. [hr] [i]It was quick like a blow to the head. Hot, crippling pain exploded in Naia's skull. A piercing light flashed behind her eyes. A terrible, trembling horror ripped through her like knives of ice. Blinded, she felt as if she were falling, falling from an impossible height, down and deep into a hungry hot chasm stretched wide to receive her like the great maw of a beast. Its damp swirling breath smelled bittersweet, like chocolate laced with a hint of cinnamon --[/i] She awoke at night on the dusty stone floor of a wide gray tent; a pale violet light illuminated wooden tables full of old books and used dishes, a half-empty mug of what smelled like dishwater beer, and a lumpy old mattress on the floor beside her. There was a spindly old man asleep on the mattress, a sheet wound around his wrinkled legs. He drooled as he snored. The violet light came from a lantern that sat on the floor by the closed flap of the tent; this lantern was made of iron and etched with strange markings. Inside there was no fire; instead, the light seemed to be coming from inside a melon-sized egg within the glass enclosure of the lantern. Outside the tent, Naia could hear the murmur and laughter of voices, and the quiet whistle of a flute. There were more people out there, gathered around a bonfire, leaning against their sleeping gryphons as they told stories of dragons and sunlight.