Return to Teracor
By Emily M. Hanson
* * * * *
The entire palace bustled with activity. All the servants were busy with wedding preparations, cleaning, decorating, and planning. It seemed to Lady Torana as if it would never end. In her heart, she knew that it was not right. Barely a week had passed since her husband, Lord Darek, was murdered by the sorcerer Neteilu. She could not believe that the Council of Lords had declared him king, even though he had no royal blood in his veins. Perhaps he had cast a spell on them. Indeed, the past few days seemed like a nightmare. But Lady Torana knew that she would not wake up, no matter how much she wanted to.
“Please do not move, my Lady,” said one of the two servant women who were assisting with the fitting of the wedding gown.
It was an ugly thing, Torana thought. Made of silk dyed black as night with blood red rubies sewn into the fabric, the dress looked garish. It made her skin appear as white as clean linens. Neteilu demanded that his colors had to be red and black. Every servant in the palace was forced to wear them. The sorcerer was somewhat paranoid about loyalty, and for good reason. He had murdered King Ulven in cold blood. Everyone was afraid of Neteilu and no one trusted him, but they were too frightened of his magic to arrest him.
He was too powerful, the servants often whispered. Torana heard them when they thought she wasn’t listening. No one dared to go against Neteilu’s wishes. If only there was another sorcerer, someone strong enough to take him on, but the practice of magic had been banned. Anyone practicing magic, even for the purpose of healing, could be executed. The other night, she had dreamt of putting a steel dagger into Neteilu’s back while he slept, but she feared his magic was strong enough to protect him. If only there was someone she could trust.
The thieves’ guild had been officially disbanded, but rumor had it that former thieves’ guild members were hiding out in the sewers. Perhaps they might be willing to kill him for a fee. It was an option, though the thought of hiring an assassin was distasteful. However, Torana wanted revenge for her husband’s murder. There must have been something in her face just then, for the servant girl looked up with concern.
“Are you all right, my Lady?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I’m sure it’s probably just wedding jitters.”
“Of course. It’s only natural. There,” the servant said triumphantly, having pushed the final pin into the fabric.
Torana saw her reflection in the full-length mirror nearby. She barely recognized herself. The ugly wedding gown made her look pale and the neckline was much too low.
“You look lovely,” the girl gushed. “It’s just the right length. I’m sure the king won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
The other servant, who was middle-aged, clucked her tongue. “Hush, girl. It’s not the color it should be. Honestly, have you ever heard of a black wedding gown, my Lady?”
“No,” Torana replied. “But I have no choice in the matter, and neither do you.”
“Of course,” she answered. “Forgive my rudeness, Lady.” The servant’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. “Please do not mention my outburst. It was impertinent and childish.”
“What outburst?”
The servant smiled, knowing then that the soon-to-be queen was more trustworthy than the new king.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, Fenrek awoke in the bed chamber after his last session with Belara. The water elemental had been summoned to serve Shen Mallen, a master thief and gambler whom Fenrek owed money to. He’d tried to pay Shen, but it was not soon enough for the thief’s liking. A sorcerer in his employment was able to summon Belara and use her to torture the Melosean, against both of their wishes.
The water elemental would much rather be back in her own realm. It was a condition of her summoning that she had to obey her master, and she had no choice but to follow his orders. She disliked being forced to do anything. After their sessions, she often gave Fenrek a glass of water. The small kindness made him realize she didn’t want to be there either. Later, she’d confessed as much.
One day, he heard the sounds of fighting in the hallway. Then the sound of familiar voices filled the air. Kiperreth chanted a spell, and soon after that, an explosion could be heard. Tanith’s sharp scimitar, Sirocco, broke through his door and it was open.
“Fenrek!” Tanith exclaimed. Her flame-red hair flew behind her as she darted into the room. “Hold on.”
She sheathed her sword and helped him out of bed, then noticed his scars and wounds. “You’ll have to let Trin heal those.”
He nodded. “Can we get out of here?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
In the hallway, the stench of smoke and fire filled the air. Kip’s spell had set the corridor ablaze. The uncanny crimson flames flickered brightly in the darkness. There was a sorcerer trapped behind them who Fenrek didn’t recognize. But he wore black and blue robes and was chanting hastily. A cold wind sprang out of nowhere. However, Kip countered the spell and the magical fire continued to burn.
One of the walls which had been weakened collapsed, burying the enemy sorcerer in a heap of smoldering rubble which ignited upon contact with the flames. At the opposite end of the hallway, Fenrek glimpsed the water elemental. The expression in her features was one of pure joy.
“I am free,” she exclaimed. “To whom do I owe thanks?”
The golden-haired, dragon-in-human-form turned around. “I am Kiperreth. I cast the spell which started the blaze, but you do not owe me anything.”
Belara shook her head. “That poor excuse for a man was the one who summoned me and used me for his own ends. Now that I am free, I owe you aid, at the very least.” She squinted, seeing Kip’s true form in the shadows. “You are a dragon? Ah....perhaps I can give you some assistance. I overheard a conversation which you may be interested in. I believe it is regarding a mutual enemy of ours.”
“All right,” Kip agreed. “But we can’t stay here any longer. What’s the quickest way out?”
“Follow me.”
Tanith assisted Fenrek, who was limping. The water elemental led them down a flight of stairs, around several corners, and through another hallway that led to a short tunnel, which in turn led them outside. In the daylight, the others were shocked at how serious the Melosean’s wounds were.
“Who did this to you?” Trin wondered aloud.
“I am ashamed to say that it was me,” Belara admitted. “But the choice was not mine to make.”
“It is no wonder you wished to be free,” the faery responded.
“Yes. Because one of your group has given me freedom, I will help you. This morning, I overheard my master using some form of magical communication. I don’t know what spell he used, but he was speaking into a mirror. In any case, it was not his reflection in the glass, rather that of a sorcerer who is known as Neteilu the Black. I heard my master say that he had not gotten all the information Neteilu wanted, but that he would get it soon enough. I surmised that he was speaking about Fenrek. The other sorcerer replied that it wasn’t soon enough for him, and that my master was a fool. However, I heard my master call Neteilu Your Majesty several times. He is not a king as far as I know, but perhaps things have changed recently.”
“This isn’t a good sign,” Tanith remarked.
“No,” Trin agreed. “I hope King Ulven is all right. We should go back.”
“What about Aliya? We still need to find her.”
“Indeed,” the faery agreed. She described the young thief and added, “You haven’t seen her here, have you?”
“I’m afraid not,” Belara replied. “I can give you something that may help you find her, though. Do you have a bottle or a water skin?”
Tanith took her water skin from her backpack and gave it to the elemental, who emptied the contents.
“Hey,” the warrior protested.
“It is all right. I will refill it. The water must be completely pure.” The elemental held her finger over the pouch and filled it with sparkling water. “Use this with a scrying spell. You will have success.”
“Thank you,” Trin said. “We’ll try that.”
“Fenrek, I know that my words cannot undo the harm I’ve caused you. But I do regret my actions.”
The Melosean nodded stiffly.
“I must go now,” Belara said. “The magic is calling me to my realm. Farewell!” There was a puddle of standing water nearby. The water elemental stepped into it and dissolved with a splash.
“I cannot scry for Aliya until tonight,” Trin said. “I need the light of the full moon.”
“Very well,” Kip answered. “Let’s travel until we find a place to make camp.”
The adventurers walked down the long dusty road, continuing until they came to the forest, and set up camp in a small clearing. It was twilight. Purple and blue shadows cascaded over them and flooded the land with darkness. An occasional firefly flitted by, glowing like a spark. Trin attended Fenrek’s wounds, then prepared her spell.
As twilight became night, silvery moonlight lit up the sky. Carefully, the faery poured the pure water into a clay bowl with carvings of runes around it. When moonlight touched the bowl, the liquid was transformed into a perfectly smooth reflective surface. She closed her eyes and imagined Aliya’s face. A few moments later, the water showed a mountainous region to the south. After the faery concentrated for a while longer, the bowl showed a cave. But there was no more. She opened her eyes with a sigh.
“This is the best answer we’re going to get.”
“I’ve flown over that area,” Kip said. “I do not recognize the cave, but that is a region in Naborea, which borders on the Masparan wilderness.”
“It’ll take us nearly a month to get there, even on horseback,” Tanith exclaimed. “By then, anything could have happened to Aliya. Is there a spell you can cast?”
The dragon nodded. “I don’t have the necessary components. We’ll have to go back to Teracor. I should be able to purchase what I need from the local merchants, but it won’t be cheap. Hopefully, we can convince King Ulven to aid us, if he is all right.”
“Then it’s settled,” she replied. “We’ll return to the city tomorrow, after we get a good night’s sleep.”
The muffled snores coming from Fenrek’s direction punctuated her statement. Trin agreed, seeing that they all needed to rest. Thankfully, the night was quiet and uneventful.
* * * * *
Lady Torana could barely see through the darkness. Her candle was not bright enough to illuminate the murky shadows. She’d gone to the sewers after the fitting of her wedding gown, hoping to find the thieves. It was over an hour later and she had no idea where she was going, much less how to get back. Not for the first time, Torana wondered if she was making a huge mistake. If she got caught wandering around in the sewers, Neteilu would probably have her executed. But the price was worth the risk. She would rather risk being sent to the afterlife than spend the rest of her life married to the sorcerer who had killed her husband.
The fact that her husband had wanted to overthrow the king made no difference. Ulven was weak, but she hadn’t expected his assassination. Torana’s husband, Lord Darek, had told her that the former king would be sent to the dungeons, where at least, he would have likely survived. She hadn’t expected her husband to assassinate Ulven. Torana supposed that she had been naive in that regard. She’d learned from that mistake, and now, Neteilu would pay for his crime.
Suddenly she heard footsteps behind her. Torana whirled around, but all she could see was a shadowy figure standing there. She could see nothing, save for a pair of uncanny dark blue eyes gazing inquisitively at her. Then the thief spoke in a raspy voice.
“You shouldn’t be down here, Milady. Allow me to escort you to the surface.”
“Please wait,” she said nervously, her voice trembling more than she wanted it to. “Are you a member of the thieves’ guild?”
His eyes narrowed. “Why do you wish to know?”
“I need someone for a job.”
Zebyl nodded. He could see that she was being honest, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing when dealing with thieves. But he recognized Lady Torana as the sorcerer king’s bride-to-be. This could be a very lucrative opportunity. “Come with me, then.”
She followed him through the dark tunnels until they came to a well-lit area. It was a room off the main sewers that apparently wasn’t being used officially. Rather, there were eight men and women in the room, most of whom wore shadow cloaks. One thief wore a black cloak lined with sapphire blue. He was a dark-skinned Naborean and quite handsome, except for a lightning-shaped scar on his left cheek. He had a tall, thin build that belied his strength. A silver dagger with a sapphire gem gleamed in the hilt at his waist. The master thief had a slight trace of a Naborean accent, but spoke the common language fluently.
“May I introduce Jamir, the master thief of Teracor,” Zebyl said. “This is Lady Torana, who is to be queen in a few days time.”
“My Lady,” Jamir said, rising from his seat. He bowed gracefully. “To what do I owe this great honor?”
“I have a particular problem with which I need your professional assistance,” Torana began. “As you probably know, Neteilu did not rise to his position lawfully. He also murdered my dear husband, the former Lord Darek. I wish to avenge my husband’s death and the murder of the rightful king.”
There were a few gasps. “Impossible,” a golden-haired woman blurted out. “Neteilu is a powerful sorcerer. He is unparalled in magical strength except for the dragons, and they won’t have anything to do with us, now that their ambassador has left the city. The king would strike us all dead if he knew that we were plotting his assassination.”
“Falisa speaks wisely,” Jamir agreed. “Such actions do not come without inherent risk. Are you willing to risk your life, Lady Torana?”
“I have already done so by coming here,” she responded.
There was a murmur of assent among the thieves. Finally the master thief said, “Lady Torana speaks truly. I must agree that King Neteilu is a despicable man from all that I have heard of him. Though it is true that magic can be used for honorable means, Neteilu is the least honorable of all sorcerers. If anyone deserved a poisoned blade in the back, it would be him. But we must do this deed carefully, for it will be our heads in the guillotine if we are caught. Zebyl, you are the most experienced assassin among us. Are you willing to take the risk?”
He stepped forward and removed the hood of his cloak, revealing a scraggly mop of dark brown hair and a face much younger than Lady Torana had expected. Zebyl appeared to be in his early twenties, but a lifetime spent on the city streets had made him a man long ago. “I am,” he replied.
“Very well. Let us discuss pay, then,” Jamir said.
After nearly half an hour spent haggling, it was agreed that Lady Torana would pay a sum of 3,000 gold now and 2,000 more after the job was completed, assuming that neither she nor Zebyl were caught. It was worth it, knowing that her husband would be avenged. Falisa escorted her safely to the surface. Later, Torana made it back to the palace without incident.
* * * * *
The afternoon sky was shrouded with gray clouds as the adventurers rode from Daranor to Teracor. The few peasants they’d met along the way had confirmed Belara’s report that a sorcerer king had taken over. There was a new rumor that magic had been banned altogether. Those who practiced magic in public for any reason, even to heal someone, were arrested by royal guards and placed in the dungeons. Faeries and dragons had supposedly departed from human lands because of the new law.
Fenrek was healing well, thanks to Trin’s expert care. The faery princess remained cloaked while in human villages so as not to attract unnecessary attention. Nevertheless, the adventurers got their share of curious glances. They stopped at a village for supplies, where a local merchant was more than willing to sell them food.
“Silver is scarce around here,” he explained. “The king’s taking more than his fair share of our taxes, but we can’t do anything about it. He might as well send his guards to steal what’s left in our homes, because we have nothing else to pay him.”
Tanith nodded as she counted coins for payment. “We’ve heard about this king. Is it true that he’s banned all magic?”
The merchant glanced around. “Aye. He’s even banned healing magic. The local midwife, Kerisa, is seething because he’s practically put her out of work. She knows herb lore, of course, but uses magic in the direst of emergencies. She saved my wife, Lanela, last spring with a spell that stopped her bleeding just in time when my son was born. If not for that, I probably would have lost my dearest Lanela. I just don’t see how things could get any better. The way it’s going now, we’ll be eating chicken feed when winter comes just to survive.”
“I appreciate your news. May you and your family have good luck.”
“You too,” he said as the red-haired woman left, carrying the sack of dried meat and fruit that she’d purchased.
Tanith relayed the rumors to the others. “It seems as though Neteilu’s got an iron grip. How can we undo the damage he’s caused?”
“We have to find Aliya,” Kiperreth answered. “I trust you got enough rations?”
“They’ll easily last for three days.”
“Good.” The blond man glanced up at the sky. “I don’t like the looks of that storm. Keep an eye out for trouble.”
As the adventurers traveled down the well-trodden road, uncertainty grew like weeds in their minds. Black shadows spread across the land as fat raindrops began to fall, turning the road into a muddy path. Bitter wind slashed through the air. The weather was downright miserable. Trin hoped they wouldn’t run into any more giant snakes like the ones they’d encountered previously. Sela, her white mare, plowed ungracefully through the mud, sending dirt and water flying and splattering Trin’s cloak. There was no escaping it, so she continued onward.
Fenrek clung to Bagley’s mane, which was thoroughly wet. The pony was definitely unhappy, but he plodded along, snorting occasionally. To the Melosean, it seemed as if all the misery in the world was being dumped on him. He’d been grateful for the rescue, but now the gloom pressed against him like a weight that he couldn’t have lifted with all the strength or magic in the world.
Tanith sneezed. “This is not my idea of a fine way to spend an afternoon. Kip, can’t you do something about the rain?”
“Not without seeing how the change in the weather will affect the rest of the weather patterns. There is a very delicate balance. Even a very small change could throw the pattern off and cause a decade-long drought or terrible flooding. However, I can make it a little less miserable.”
He mumbled some words beneath his breath that were lost in a crash of thunder. Suddenly Tanith realized that she was completely dry, and that everyone else was also.
“It won’t last for long, but hopefully this storm will be over by then,” Kiperreth explained.
“I’m grateful,” she replied.
“As am I,” Fenrek muttered as Bagley trudged along through the sloppy mud.
* * * * *
The faint sound of chanting woke Aliya. She could not sit up, as she was bound by magical coils that would restrict even more if she moved. She was very cold, wearing nothing more a towel wrapped around her like a blanket because Zoran had abducted her during a bath.
The sorcerer’s deep baritone voice chopped through the darkness like an axe as he sang in a guttural language which she had never heard anywhere else. In the distance, a faint emerald light flickered. It was too dim to be of much use to her. Then she heard something more ominous, a hissing noise like that of a snake. But it was not nearby. Rather, she heard it echoing through the tunnels.
The thief had no idea if her traveling companions had any idea where she was. Kip might have a magical means of discerning her location, but by then it might be too late. Zoran worshipped the evil snake God, Zoru. From what little the sorcerer had told Aliya, she’d concluded that he was insane, and there was not much she could do to stop him. Not without a timely rescue, anyway. Resigned to her fate, Aliya closed her eyes.
* * * * *
Fenrek opened his eyes. He’d only had them closed for a few moments while fighting fatigue. Suddenly a hissing sound startled his pony and Bagley reared, nearly throwing him off. “Gods,” the Melosean exclaimed. “Not more blasted giant snakes!”
Tanith glanced around. She counted ten serpents surrounding them. Their red eyes glowed like hot coals. The creatures slithered forward as though they were a single unit, which was extremely odd.
“I’m afraid so,” she replied, taking Sirocco out of its sheath. The silver scimitar flared white as its smooth surface reflected a lightning strike.
Then the snakes attacked, leaving no time for the adventurers to do anything but defend themselves. Fenrek drew his dagger as Kip and Trin began casting spells. The flame-haired warrior slashed at the nearest serpent, sending emerald drops of blood flying. Tanith managed to dodge the poisoned blood just in time. The dragon sent a glowing arrow directly into a snake’s soft belly. It hissed in anger. A moment later, the faery and her white mare shimmered with a soft green light, a sure sign that she had cast a protective spell of some sort.
The snakes again attacked as one. Kip raised an eyebrow. “Someone must be controlling them,” he realized aloud. However, he had no further time to speculate. Snake venom splattered through the air. In dragon form he would be impervious to it, but in his current form, he had limitations. Kip turned his face away and avoided most of the poison, but a few drops struck his arm. In a heartbeat, the acid ate through his clothing and reached his skin.
“Kip!” Tanith shouted, seeing that he’d been wounded.
“Don’t worry about me. Keep fighting,” he advised. “Trin, I could use some of your healing salve.”
The faery reached into her backpack for it as a serpent lunged at her. Kip hurled a glowing arrow, knocking the creature down. Trin handed him the salve, then saw another snake. It was going for the dragon’s horse. “Behind you,” she exclaimed.
Just when the serpent revealed its fangs dripping with venom, a silver object came flying through the air and pierced the snake all the way through. It dropped to the ground, hissing in rage with its last breath. Trin saw Fenrek with his hand still raised from having thrown the dagger. Kip hastily applied the healing salve to his sore skin.
Unfortunately, there were still half a dozen serpents left. The faery chanted as the Melosean unsheathed his spare dagger and Tanith prepared to swing her blade again. As Kip put Trin’s healing salve in a safe place, he happened to glance up. There was something surreal about the storm, almost as if it was being controlled like the snakes.
No sorcerer in his right mind would summon a storm. There was too great a risk that nature’s delicate balance would be overthrown. Like the political balance in the five realms, it needed careful attention. Still, something seemed odd about this particular weather. Perhaps it was connected to the snakes.
Kip hurled another magical arrow as the snakes attacked. Tanith sliced through the nearest serpent with her sword. From Trin’s outstretched hand came a brilliant light, so bright that Fenrek was nearly blinded by it. Then the smell of burning serpent flesh and poison filled the air. She’d gotten two of the creatures at once. Their husks lay in the mud smoldering as rain quenched the magical flames.
When the battle was finally over, the adventurers exchanged grim and weary glances. The raindrops slowed to a light drizzle while the gray sky lightened considerably.
“Kip, are you all right?” Tanith asked, still concerned.
He nodded. “Thanks to Trin’s healing salve, yes.”
“Then let’s hope we have no more unpleasant surprises.”
The adventurers followed the road to Teracor for another day before they reached the city gates.
“Halt,” said the guard, a tall and bulky dark-haired man wearing dark chain mail. Oddly, the color of his tunic was black. His shield bore the symbol of a red stylized dragon on a black background. The adventurers exchanged glances, for those were not the colors of King Ulven. “State your business.”
“We’re here to purchase supplies,” Kip replied honestly. “Can you tell us what has happened recently? When we were last here, King Ulven’s colors were the rule. Has something happened to him?”
“Aye,” the guard answered gravely. “Ulven was killed by the hand of his Majesty, Neteilu the Black.” From the guard’s tone, it was clear that he did not approve.
“The sorcerer?” Tanith gasped.
The guard nodded. “Things have changed much in only a few days. You should know that the practice of magic for any reason is now forbidden. Anyone caught casting a spell, even to heal another, will be arrested. My fellow guardsmen and I must be especially vigilant. Be careful, travelers. After I record your names, I will give you a visitor’s pass. It is good for a week. To apply for another pass, you must go to the palace.”
“Thank you,” Kip said.
“What is your name?”
“I am called Kip Goldenhair.” It was a common enough name that wouldn’t draw attention to his dragon heritage, and one he frequently used when traveling among mortals.
“Very well.” The guard handed him a pass. After the others gave their names, they were also given passes and allowed to enter Teracor.
Several hours later, after they’d found a room at an inn, eaten a good meal, and changed into clean clothes, the adventurers found the merchant’s plaza. Kip knew what he needed. “Look around as you wish,” he told the others. Finding the first item on his list, a griffin feather, wasn’t difficult. A merchant selling feathers to be used for writing had a few at a decent price. While gathering the necessary components, Kip mentally took note of a guard watching him. None of the things he’d purchased were suspicious in and of themselves, but if someone knew what to look for, they’d realize he needed them for a spell.
Kip closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d have to purchase a few more things to throw the guard off his trail. He spotted a tunic that was Aliya’s size and bought it. He also purchased some fresh vegetables. Obsidian was the popular stone of the day. There were plenty of merchants selling obsidian rings and amulets guaranteed to win the favor of the gods, because it showed that the wearer supported the new king. Hoping to throw the guard off his trail, he picked up several amulets and put one on immediately.
Then he found a merchant selling gemstones and examined two fine sapphires. He needed one for the final spell component. Kip was trying to decide between them when he heard chain mail rattling behind him.
“Excuse me, sir,” the guard said. “You need to come with me.”
Kip feigned ignorance. “What have I done? Is it against the law to purchase things now? If it is, I wasn’t aware of that.”
“I’ve been keeping an eye on you. What you’ve purchased includes components for an illegal translocation spell. You’ll have to be questioned further.”
Tanith and Trin both glanced at him, wondering if they should attack the guard. Kip gave a tiny shake of his head and allowed the guard to drag him off, knowing that it would be best to keep a low profile for now.
* * * * *
In the guardhouse, Kip was roughly shoved onto a wooden bench. The captain was called and came out of his office, glaring at him. “Caught purchasing outlawed spell components, eh? What do you have to say for yourself, sorcerer?”
“In truth, I had no idea that what I had purchased was illegal. I was merely buying gifts for my wife and children at home,” Kip lied.
“What sort of peasant uses gold coins to purchase rare gemstones?”
“I’m a merchant, not a peasant. I deal in rare artifacts and antiquities.” Hopefully, the cover story would work.
“What sort of artifacts?”
“Documents and scrolls, mostly.” Kip gestured to his backpack, which the guards had confiscated. “Look inside and you’ll see harmless storybooks and poetry, historical facts, things of that nature.”
He concentrated briefly, making an illusion appear real. The guards exchanged glances as they sorted through his belongings, finding nothing more than a few tunics, the items he’d just purchased, and several innocuous-looking books.
“Very well,” said the guard captain, realizing that there wasn’t much evidence. “But you will be closely watched. Any hint of sorcery, and you’ll be back here before you can blink.”
Kip nodded. “Fair enough.”
Receiving his belongings intact, he was escorted outside. His traveling companions met him down the street.
“We’ll have to be very cautious,” he whispered, feeling the eyes of a nearby guard upon him. “We’re being watched closely. Let’s go.”
After returning to the hotel, Kip let Trin return to the bazaar and purchase the sapphire. The faery was able to buy it without incident, but she felt the guards watching her the entire time. She felt like a mouse surrounded by cats.
The travelers spent the night in Teracor and left the city just before dawn. The sky was a skein of deep violet silk stretched across the heavens, bordered by a thin blue band on the horizon. On the outskirts of the city, they headed to the forest, where they would be far from prying eyes. After finding a clearing, Kip prepared the spell components.
Only Fenrek was nervous. He kept glancing from side to side, peering through the trees in case anyone came through the thick green foliage.
“We must all stand in the circle,” Kip declared finally. He’d sprinkled salt around most of the clearing. The sapphire was carefully placed in the middle. When everyone had done so, the dragon gave them all a griffin feather, then placed the image of the mountains in their minds. “Concentrate on this,” he said, then began chanting in an unintelligible tongue.
A few minutes later, the air began to shimmer like a heat wave. Then the adventurers vanished, leaving the clearing behind. In the circle of salt, the sapphire’s hue had turned milky, resembling a cloudy sky. The clouds in the stone darkened and began to churn with ferocity. Then the sapphire turned completely black, glittering in dawn’s crimson light.
* * * * *
