Kirnoth took a quick assessment of their situation and turned his head toward the enlarged Janissary.
"Ledare, let's get out of here!" he said in an urgent whisper.
Ledare took a moment - the pounding on the door behind her was making it difficult to think.
Nunzio gestured and the sewer rats scurrying around his feet began to move forward.
"Ok, yes," she said. "Running seems to be in order here."
Again Ledare thought she caught sight of a shadow, large and lightning quick, moving along the top of the wall.
"Head for the gate," she urged her companion, pressing her hand against his back. "I think we are in a bad way, Kirnoth; we are up against too many here."
"Tell me about it," the mage muttered as he began to run.
Instead of going straight for the gate, he veered slightly and made for Selejian.
"Rudivan," Nunzio barked. "You deal with the elf! The Janissary is all mine!"
The two split up, each on an intercept course for their respective targets. As they moved, their flesh began to run like wax; fur grew over their naked skin.
Kirnoth reached the sculptor and looked down at the man for the space of one heartbeat. Selejian looked up at the mage with fear in his watery eyes. Even in the near darkness, Kirnoth could see how blood had soaked through the sleeve of the old man's sleeping gown.
"Leave me be!" he sobbed up at the elf. "Why can't you just leave me be?"
Kirnoth didn't say a word, but reached down and seized Selejian's right forearm. When it became obvious what the elf was after, Selejian began to fight back.
"No!" he shouted and tried to pull his arm away. "You'll not have it! It belongs to me!"
Hunched over the old man as he was, Kirnoth couldn't see the swarm of rats moving toward him from behind. Ledare caught sight of it and let out a yell of warning. That was all the more time she had before Nunzio was on her. He drew back his fur-covered arm and the whip in his hand rose, snake-like and then descended, stinging Ledare in the midsection. She cried out, feeling the scourge's bite even through her armor. She thrust outward with her sword, aiming for the rat man's chest, but the point of the weapon missed the mark.
"You may have ruined our little enterprise here, Janissary," Nunzio taunted her as he drew back the whip again, "but the end is coming for all of you!"
At Ledare's warning, Kirnoth turned and saw the moving carpet of vermin approaching him. At the rear of the swarm came Rudivan, his red eyes gleaming in the darkness, his nose and tail twitching with each step. He held his sword ready at his side.
Kirnoth let go of Selejian's arm and moved away a moment before the rats reached him. The slick black rodents moved over the sculptor en masse and Selejian began to scream.
The sound was high-pitched and horrible - the scream of a man being eaten alive.
Kirnoth began throwing darts at once, but all three missed the approaching rat man.
Before Ledare could react, Nunzio's whip snapped outward and found the narrow slit of unarmored flesh on the inside elbow of her sword arm. Fire exploded in her arm and she saw - with horror - the silver-iron longsword fall from her nerveless fingers. As she stared helplessly at the falling weapon, Nunzio laughed.
"I expected more from the King's chosen," he chuckled. "Bringing Magnus your head will be easier than I thought.
Selejian's screams ended in a wet choking.
Rudivan was close enough that Kirnoth could hear his breath. The elf fumbled with his last three darts.
A slate shingle from the roof shattered on the ground between the rat man and the elf. They both hesitated and looked up.
A shape was hunched there on the edge of the studio roof, a shadow amidst shadows.
"What the hell?" Rudivan had time to say before the shape leapt. Its tattered cloak spread outward for a moment like the wings of a huge bat, making it look impossibly large in the instant before it landed on the rat man, driving him into the flagged courtyard.
Kirnoth had the impression of a lumped head turning to face him.
"Run, Kirnoth of Galerideleli," a voice rumbled from the dark figure.
Ledare turned and bent down, quickly grabbing her fallen longsword in her left hand. Before she could stand up and brandish it, however, Nunzio's whip licked painfully against the back of her left thigh and she fell forward onto her knees. Another sharp cry of pain slipped uncontrollably passed her lips.
Nunzio laughed behind her.
"You are but the first to fall," the rat man was gloating. "She has come and soon the Chosen One will be born of her. He will bring a plague such as this world has not seen in 800 years!"
With her back to Nunzio, Ledare slipped her hand crossbow free of its holster.
Kirnoth stared at the two eyes - one bight yellow, the other a glittering red - in stunned silence.
"Run!" the voice repeated and then let out a startled yelp. The shadowy figure lurched off of Rudivan and the rat man jumped to his feet, apparently uninjured. He let out an angry squeal.
"You!" he yelled at the hulking figure crouched in the shadows. "I told the others that we should have dealt with you long ago!"
The figure didn't reply, but rather sprang into motion and came barreling straight at Kirnoth.
"You die at the dawn of a magnificent new age!" Nunzio said and Ledare could hear the whip slither across the flagstones as he drew back to lash her again. "An age of pestilence and -"
Ledare turned then and fired the hand crossbow at the rat man. The bolt on the bottom of the cylinder launched itself silently at Nunzio, and the entire cylinder revolved so that another arrow rested in the groove. The shot was a poor one, however, and the bolt sailed harmlessly over the rat's hunched shoulders.
Nunzio laughed again.
"You'll need to do better than that Janissary," he said and lashed out at Ledare. She was able to roll to one side and avoid the scourge, however. It cracked against the flagstones to her left.
Before Kirnoth fully realized what was happening, the huge figure had him lifted up and thrown over one broad shoulder. The stench of sewage wafting off the creature's robes was nearly overpowering.
"I warned you not to face the skaven," the creature said and the elf could feel the voice rumbling in his stomach.
"Roach?" Kirnoth asked, recognizing the voice at last.
An instant later, the world twisted awkwardly and he felt like he was flying. Roach had jumped up, seized the edge of the roof and slung them both up on top of the studio. Kirnoth had a lovely view of the entire courtyard from there. Rudivan was running beneath them swinging his shortsword impotently. Ledare was on her knees with her crossbow trained on Nunzio; she held her sword in her left hand. He couldn't even see Selejian beneath the pile of rats.
Roach trotted to the outside wall and twisted so that Kirnoth was heaved off his shoulder and went sliding down a thick right arm covered with black fur. The mage landed unceremoniously in the mud outside the studio.
Ledare squeezed the trigger again and sent another bolt at Nunzio. This one flew true and impaled the rat man's left forearm. Nunzio roared with pain and pulled back. He looked confusedly at the arrow transfixing his arm. It was bleeding freely.
Ledare took the opportunity to get quickly to her feet. She dodged the flickering tongue of the scourge as the rat man struck out at her in a fury.
As he brought the strap back to strike at her again, the sword in her left hand darted out and pierced his left eye. A jet of crimson spurted across Ledare's breastplate. Nunzio dropped his whip and brought his hand up to the pulsing fountain that had been his eye. His keening scream was almost too high to hear.
He fell away from her and as he went, he changed. He landed as an enormous rat and began to scurry away toward the stable. He was fast in this form, even with the arrow impaled through his left forepaw.
Kirnoth heard the screaming.
"Roach!" he cried, scrambling to his feet. "You've got to help my friend. She's still in there and-"
He looked up toward the top of the wall where Roach had been crouching amidst the gargoyles, but he was gone. The elf scanned the wall from one end to the other but could see no sign of him.
He heard clinking behind him and suddenly found himself bathed in firelight.
"You there!" A male voice barked in common. "Throw down your weapons and put your hands in the air."
Kirnoth turned slowly and saw a dozen shadowy figures. One of them carried a bullseye lantern and he kept the light directed on the startled mage.
Ledare staggered after Nunzio, but he somehow managed to squeeze his enormous bulk through a narrow fissure in the earth and was gone.
She turned to survey the rest of the courtyard, but it was empty apart from the new statue of Grmnmral and a gruesome shape that had once been Selejian.
Kirnoth immediately threw down his remaining darts and put my hands up cooperatively. Numerous hands were on him immediately, spinning him around so that he faced the wall.
"Please!" he protested as he was roughly patted down. "We are here by order of the king."
"He's got something in his shirt," a male voice said.
"It's my familiar," the elf explained. "I am a wizard."
Kirnoth felt something cold and hard pressed against his back.
"Keep yer mouth shut, wizard," someone growled into his right ear. "If I even think yer castin' a spell, me sword'll find a new home in yer back."
"Bakkish, hold your tongue or so help me I'll have you patrolling the mines," another voice commanded and the sword pressed against Kirnoth's back withdrew. "Now find out what he's got in his shirt."
Kirnoth found himself spun around and he could see now that the figures arrayed around him were dressed in the clothes of the Watch. One of the armsmen approached and shoved a cold hand inside his tunic. A moment later, the armsman screamed and jumped back.
"Somethin' bit me!" he protested, sucking on his fingers and the others leveled their weapons at the elf.
Ledare looked around cautiously. There was no sign of the other rat man, Rudivan, anywhere. Perhaps he had escaped once Nunzio fled. Or perhaps he was hiding amidst the shadows with his sword ready to pierce her heart...
All at once, the courtyard seemed suddenly to grow. It took her a moment to realize that Kirnoth's enlargement spell had worn off, and with it the last of her magically-enhanced strength.
With Kirnoth whisked away and Grmnmral stoned, she suddenly felt very alone and very vulnerable. The prudent move would be to open the gate and provide herself with an escape route should she need one. Actually the most prudent thing to do would be to open the gate and leave, but she wasn't prepared to do that without finding some way to break Selejian's spell.
She moved toward what was left of the sculptor and approached as closely as her stomach would allow. There was surprisingly little left of him, and what there was was horrible. The stench rising off the remains was indescribable and Ledare felt her stomach clench. She turned her head and cursed, muttering, "Now how will we ever change those statues back?"
Shaking her head and breathing heavily through her mouth, she headed for the gate.
"What have you got in there, wizard?" one man who was obviously the leader asked.
"I told you," the mage replied. "It's my familiar, Gordigan."
He reached inside his shirt and slowly drew forth the duckbunny, who hung limp in his hands.
"Be a good boy now, Gordigan," Kirnoth said.
*IS IT OVER YET?* the duckbunny said into the elf's head. *ARE WE SAFE IN BED YET?*
Rather than answer, Kirnoth held up the familiar by the scruff of his neck for the men to see. He smiled all the while.
"See," he said. "It's just a harmless duckbunny."
The leader cocked his head and studied Gordigan curiously.
"I've never seen anything quite like-" he started the mutter and Kirnoth cut him off.
"Please, good sirs," he implored. "The King's own Janissary is beyond that gate and needs help. Please go in and get her. Her name is Ledare Eelsof'faw. We have battled evil and need your help."
At that moment, there was a scraping sound from the other side of the gate. The sound of wood against wood lasted but a moment and then the small door set into the gate itself opened and Ledare poked her head out.
"I hadn't heard that a group of rat men was operating in Barnacus. Sneaky devils," Sergeant Griffith said once Ledare had explained what had happened to them. "But what I don't understand is why you were here in the first place."
One of the armsmen served as a medic, and he was tending to Ledare's injuries while the Janissary spoke to them.
"You must understand, Sergeant, that I can't speak to you on matters the King has bade me keep secret," she said. "The rest will be filed in my report. You'll have to content yourself with that."
Griffith sighed and turned away from Ledare. He pulled out a small clay pipe and packed it while he surveyed the courtyard. Several of his men were crowded around the half-eaten sculptor. Kirnoth approached from that direction; his face looked slightly green in the dim light.
"Any luck?" Ledare asked him when he was within earshot.
The elf shook his head.
"There's no sign of the glove," he said. "His hand... they... they ate it off."
Ledare scowled and Sergeant Griffith let out a long slow breath.
"Terrible way for a man to die," he said. "Just terrible."
The Janissary eased way from the medic and finished tying off the last bandage herself.
"Sergeant," she said. "My companion and I will need to search the rest of the studio."
"You're free to do as you wish, Janissary," Griffith said, pointing at her with the stem of his pipe. "But the wizard's got no authority to-"
Ledare produced the charter that King Haermond had given her on the day he'd first assigned her to the task of the missing artisans. Griffith looked at the royal seal with surprise.
"I believe this document explains otherwise," Ledare said and she and Kirnoth filed off toward the workshop.
They found nothing particularly interesting or unexpected in the main workroom. The stoneworking tools were all in immaculate shape and obviously hadn't been used in months. Given the results that Selejian got with his magical glove, it was clear that he no longer needed the tools of his trade.
They proceeded to the sculptor's bedroom and began searching there.
Kirnoth went through the sculptor's desk. The draws were packed with well-handled letters of praise from purchasers of his statuary. The mage also found a leather bag containing a few hundred coins of silver and electrum and a few pieces of parchment with some shakily-drawn sketches.
Ledare searched the wardrobe but found nothing other than the clothes she would expect to find there.
Under the bed was a ring of keys and a heavy iron strongbox. None of the keys fit it and its solid construction made smashing it open impossible for anyone weaker than a stone giant. She placed it on the bed for later examination.
Kirnoth spied the smallish wooden box atop the mantle and opened it. Inside he found a gold and ruby ring and fifty-some gold nobles. He dumped it out on the bed beside the strongbox and was startled when the false bottom fell out of the box, spilling out a piece of folded parchment and a left-handed glove of supple leather.
"Look at this!" Kirnoth said excitedly, calling Ledare over to the bed.
The Janissary picked up the folded piece of paper and found a letter dated 40 years earlier. She read it aloud:
"Most gifted Romero,
I have labored years to create beauty everlasting, but my life is now drawing to a close. My work will live on, and as long as one person looks upon my creations and smiles, I feel that my life has counted after all.
There is one secret I have kept, one that made me the sculptor I am today. That secret is in this box. These gloves were given to me as payment by a rather eccentric mage who thought he was doing me an invaluable service. The gloves, when worn, have the unique ability to transmute flesh into the purest marble and back again. The right glove converts flesh into rock, while the left undoes the process. The items have a limited number of uses, the mage told me, but more than enough for me to produce some of the finest sculptures ever seen.
Knowing their power and trying to best it has been my driving force. I am confidant that man, without the aid of magic, is equal to any task under the sun. No magic, I vowed, would ever produce better art than my human hands! I have spent my life with that fire under me, driving me to greater and greater creations. In you, I see fire also, but a fire of a different type. You want people to see your work and remember you - to live in awe of you. You want their lips to utter your name in stark amazement as they view your works.
Romero, my boy, take this fire and use it! Pour your emotions into your work and it will show, but do not let the fire that drives you consume you as well! You have the potential to be my better, and this is all I want for you. If you ever lack inspiration, remember my own personal challenge of the gloves. This is my last lesson to you.
Anashan"
"So this glove should undo the evil that Selejian's wrought," Kirnoth said, looking a the innocent-looking gauntlet. "Should we try it?"
"I leave that up to you, Kirnoth," Ledare said, setting aside the piece of parchment. "I have no expertise in such matters."
Kirnoth looked at the glove and licked his lips. At last he snatched it up and slipped it on.
"We have to try," he said.
They decided to begin with Ruze.
Kirnoth approached the statue with something between fear and hope roiling through his stomach. The Ruze statue smiled down at him with its right hand extended in greeting. The mage swallowed thickly and touched the white stone hand. The effect was both startling and instantaneous.
Color rippled back into the Battleguard's arm spreading outward from the point of contact until his entire body had returned to flesh in the space of two heartbeats. He groaned and immediately pitched forward. Ledare and Kirnoth did their best to catch him, bracing his fall with their bodies.
They lowered him to the floor and rolled him onto his back. His eyes fought to open and a choking moan rattled in his throat.
"Wha...," he rasped. "W-what... happened?"
"Ruze. It's Ledare," the Janissary said in a calming voice. She knelt at his side and placed her hand soothingly on the Battleguard's chest. "Try to relax; you're safe."
"Ledare? Is it-" Ruze rasped. His voice faded for a moment and he swallowed a few times before continuing. "Is it you?"
"Yes," she said, smiling. "Don't you recognize me?"
"No, lass," he said and his eyes seemed to drift around, trying to find their focus. "I seem to be blind."
"Blind?!" Kirnoth cried, looking at the left-handed glove as if he might see the word 'CURSED' embroidered into the back of it.
"Who's that with you, Ledare?" the Battleguard asked. "Is that Finian?"
"No, sir, it is Kirnoth," the elf told him. "What happened to cause your blindness? Do you know?"
"I am not sure what has caused me not to see," Ruze confessed. He waved his hand experimentally in front of his eyes several times. "I am able to see... flashes of light... and shifts of light."
"I'm sure this is just a side effect of the stoning," Ledare said in as confident a tone as she could manage. The look she exchanged with Kirnoth told the elf that she was far from convinced.
"By the way, how much time has gone by?" Ruze asked. "To me it feels only a few moments."
The Battleguard's face winced with pain and he clutched at his prodigious belly.
"Although I must say, I am dreadfully hungry," he added quickly. "Say, Kirnoth, you mightn't have some spice cakes or honey bread on you would you and, say, a flagon of strong wine."
With a confused look on his face, the mage shook his head. Then remembering the man's blindness added, "Uh...No."
"Okay," Ruze said with a sigh. "Perhaps later."
"It's been two days since you and Finian tried to infiltrate Selejian's studio," Ledare explained.
"Two days!" the man shouted in mock surprise. "No wonder my belly's empty!"
Kirnoth scowled up at Ledare and tried to redirect the Battleguard's thoughts to the matter at hand.
"We are trying to figure out all that has happened so we can save as many of Selejian's victims as possible," the elf explained. "Obviously Finian is our first priority. We believe we are safe at the moment and will get you whatever assistance you may need. What can you tell us?"
"Ah yes, my associate in this endeavor, Finian," Ruze said. "I know not where he is. As I remember, he was invisible before I was turned to stone."
"Yes?" Kirnoth prompted. "And then?"
"Blast! I cannot believe I was so stupid! Of course! His hands!" the man exclaimed. "Help me to my feet!"
Kirnoth and Ledare grabbed Ruze's arms and hauled his bulk laboriously off the floor. When he was standing on his own he continued.
"We come here suspecting this gentleman of being able to turn people to stone and what do I do? I act like the Greeting Guard at the Temple on Queen's Day... reach out my hand: 'Hello, sir, I am Ruze...' and poof into stone," the Battleguard related, complete with a brief pantomime of the interaction. "Well I must say, for this outing of my Queen, I have done well... wouldn't you say?"
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Ledare said. "None of us knew how easily Selejian's magic would work."
"Yes," Kirnoth added. "If it had required a complex magical ritual rather than the touch of a magic object..."
"What was it?" Ruze interrupted. "A ring? A bracelet?"
"A glove," the elf told him holding up his left hand.
"Ah... a glove," the Battleguard mused with a sardonic smile on his lips. "Yes, of course. I deserve to be kept interred in stone as a penance for being so stupid."
Ruze cast his sightless gaze at the ceiling of the workroom as if he were looking up to the heavens.
"Do not judge yourself so harshly," Ledare said again.
"I don't judge myself, but my Queen has chosen the right penance for me already," Ruze said with a bemused expression. "By not seeing before, I do not see now."
Ruze knelt on the spot, his hands crossed over his breast.
"My Queen," he intoned, "I will bear my penance well in your divine sight."
He stood then and seemed to have reached a peace with his handicap.
"Let's away to find Finian," he said. "Of course, if he was turned to stone while invisible, this could be a problem."
"Ruze, I am concerned that without sight, it will be difficult for you to explore this place with us," Kirnoth worried, but the Battleguard just smiled.
"Were it easily overcome, it would not be penance," he explained and then clutched his belly again. This time Kirnoth and Ledare could both hear his stomach grumble. "Say, Kirnoth, where is the kitchen?"
"Why don't we send you to The Five Elements Inn for some food with one of the Watch, and we will meet you back there when we are finished exploring?" the mage suggested. "Perhaps we can then put our heads together and figure out what happened with your sight."
"Mmmm," the man replied. "As tempting as the thought of a hot meal is to me, I dare not try to thwart the Silver Queen's will. She put this obstacle in my path for a reason; it is not for me to sit and wait for it to pass."
As it was, Ruze was able to sniff out a loaf of day-old bread and a wheel of cheese on a side table in Selejian's bed chamber. He eschewed the bread, but happily bit into the fragrant cheese. Also on the table were several bottles of wine, one of which the Battleguard was able to open with well-practiced ease using a dagger blade. Properly fortified, he was eager to continue along with Ledare and Kirnoth.
The room beyond the bedroom was as they had first found it. The statue that had animated at Selejian's command was frozen in place beside the door to the courtyard. Its fists were drawn up over its head, ready to strike at the wooden barricade. The door was heavily scarred on this side from the construct's barrage, but the statue now seemed as lifeless as the others in the room.
Kirnoth bent down and picked up the light tube that he had dropped when he cast Enlarge on the Janissary.
They passed through the room to the other door. It opened onto a small chamber that appeared to have been someone's quarters at one time. A cot frame leaned against one wall near two wooden chairs. A layer of dust over everything spoke of long disuse, but a trail through the dust led from a door in the right-hand wall that obviously led to the courtyard and a set of stairs descending into darkness. The faint odor of sewer gas wafted up from below.
The mage shown the light tube down the stairs. They led down to a landing and then bent away down to the left. Once they'd reached the landing, Ruze cocked his head.
"Rats," he announced and once Ledare and Kirnoth concentrated they could hear it too. The area below was filled with the chittering and scratching of a rodent infestation. Given what fate had befallen Selejian, the trio was properly afraid. Ledare drew her crossbow and kept it ready in her left hand as they descended.
Old sculptures that were only half-completed, broken chunks of marble and metal, dulled chisels, cracked hammers, and the accumulated junk of a lifetime were packed haphazardly in the cellar. Sounds of scurrying rats emanated from every corner, and Ledare and Kirnoth caught brief glimpses of movement from the periphery of their vision. The sewer stench was very pronounced there.
The cellar itself was little more than a wide hallway that trailed away from the stairs to the left. The floor consisted of packed earth, and a row of thick wooden pillars supported the ceiling. They could see doors leading off the main cellar: three on the left and one on the right. A small hole in the floor at the far end of the room was the source of the noxious odor that permeated the area. It was bad enough that Ruze stopped gnawing on the cheese and looked as if he suddenly wasn't feeling very well. Kirnoth shown his light on the hole and Ledare crouched down to have a look. It was far too small to allow any of them access, but rat tracks of various sizes surrounded the hole, as well as other, tiny humanoid-like footprints.
"Bane midges," Kirnoth grimaced.
"Yeah," Ledare agreed and dragged a heavy crate over the top of the hole.
The three adjacent rooms on the left were all piled high with assorted junk of little or no value. The room on the right contained more of the same as well as three statues all caught in poses of revulsion or extreme fright. One statue was that of a young half-elven girl caught in the act of screaming at the top of her lungs. The next was a human woman with her fists raised and her face pinched with anguish.
"Nora Howzell." Ledare identified the latter statue easily. "She's the missing cartwright's wife. Finian and I met her after our first attempt to gain entrance to Selejian's studio."
"And here's Finian!" Kirnoth exclaimed. He shown his light on the third statue, which lay on its side, and it was clearly their missing companion. He was contorted in an odd position with his feet drawn up and his arms at his sides. His head was wrenched backward at what looked like a painful angle. The expression on his face was a mixture of rage and defiance.
"Use the glove," Ledare prompted and Kirnoth did so.
He reached out and gripped the Finian-statue's smooth marble wrist and concentrated on the Archer as he remembered him. The mage felt magic flare in the leather glove and watched as Finian's body returned to flesh in much the same way that Ruze's had. Color rippled over the half-elf's body from the point of contact.
Finian jerked into a more comfortable position and his nose began to bleed.
"Urrn," the Archer groaned. His eyes fluttered. "What... going on?"
Finian twisted and stretched his muscles into a more comfortable position, his face knotted with discomfort.
"How is your eyesight, Finian?" Ledare asked, kneeling over the Archer. "Can you see?"
He blinked and his blue eyes focused on the Janissary's face.
"Of course I can see," he sputtered. "Why wouldn't-?"
Something moved across his face - a memory that had just returned and he sat upright, his mace in hand.
"Where is that old bastard Selejian?" he growled, looking about the cluttered storeroom. "I would like to stick his glove where the sun does not shine!"
"Selejian is dead," Ledare informed him and Finian visibly relaxed. "Kirnoth has the glove and can stick it wherever you like."
Kirnoth held up his left hand and wiggled his fingers to show off the leather glove.
"Those men with him - his 'apprentices' - are wererats and were able to see me while I was invisible. They are very dangerous and strong, so even with Selejian dealt with, I wouldn't consider us safe necessarily," he explained as he got to his feet and sniffed at the putrid air. " Where are we now?"
"Uh...Ledare?" Ruze asked. "That's a very... good question. Where in the bloody minx are we?"
The turned to look at the Battleguard. In the dimness of the shadowy storeroom, he looked very pale. His face seemed almost to glow from the shadows as if all the blood had drained from his head. "Why do I smell feces and... uh... I think I better sit down a minute..."
He reached around blindly behind him as if looking for a chair or a wall. He found neither and they could clearly see the beads of sweat standing out on his pallid face. He took a few choking gasps of the noxious-smelling air and then his body convulsed, depositing the contents of his stomach - which, in addition to the cheese and wine he'd just consumed, contained the undigested remnants of the breakfast he'd shared at Grey House on the morning before his petrifaction - onto the floor.
"Ummm... sorry, Finian..." the Battleguard groaned, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "I did not mean to hit you there, but I must say I feel better."
The Archer just looked at his boots and grimaced.
"The rats are everywhere down here," Kirnoth said and casting his gaze on the blind Battleguard added, "And the air isn't getting any better. Finian, if you are up to it, let's get out of here immediately."
"I second that," Ruze added, holding his stomach in discomfort.
"Ledare and I decided to explore to see if we could find you and others and to see if there were any clues available to change you back to flesh," Kirnoth explained once they were back under the open sky amongst the members of the Watch. "We found the way to change you, and then we found you. But there are many others, and I believe, we must now change first Grmnmral, then the artisans and Goodwife Howzell, then everyone else."
Finian looked down at the hunched statue of the mongrelman he'd befriended on his first journey to Barnacus. It had only been a few months, but it seemed so long ago. He touched the statue's misshapen marble head.
"What is Grmnmral even doing here?" he asked.
"Looking for you," Ledare told him. "And believe me, your little mongrelman will be happy we found you."
"He's looking to get his medallion back," Kirnoth added. "Something he gave you last time you met. Please tell me you have it."
Finian reached inside his tunic and produced the amulet that he wore around his neck on a leather thong. It was a goat's head roughly carved from a piece of shiny black stone.
"I have it," he said solemnly.
"While we're on the subject," the Janissary began. "What happened to the invisibility ring?"
Finian held up his hand and displayed the gold ring on his finger. The flat red gem caught the lanternlight for a moment and flashed in the darkness.
Ledare held out her hand. "I'll carry it for safekeeping," she said.
Once the ring was safely in Ledare's belt pouch, Kirnoth moved over beside the statue of Grmnmral and raised his gloved left hand. "Let's get moving," he said.
The glove succeeded in returning all of the statues to flesh, and only one - the young woman holding the flower that Selejian kept in his bedroom - survived the de-stoning process. Other than a slight disorientation, they seemed to have suffered no permanent injuries from their ordeal. The artisans all described a similar method of capture: they had been lured by Nunzio, Lenicius and Rudivan to The Ogre's Eye Brewery under the pretense of legitimate business and then turned to stone by Selejian. Nora Howzell had been petrified after she pounded on Selejian's gate and confronted the sculptor about his involvement in the disappearance of her husband. The half-elven girl they had found in the basement was taken by what she described as "ugly little faerie creatures" that had ambushed her in one of the alleys near the waterfront brothel, Siren's Call, where she was doing business. When she'd awakened in the studio and started screaming, Selejian had quickly turned her to stone.
The Companions left the armsmen to interview the survivors more carefully and secure the studio. With the first light of dawn painting an orangey haze on the eastern horizon, they made their way back to Grey House. For Ledare, Kirnoth and Grmnmral, it represented the second night spent fighting for their lives rather than sleeping comfortably in their rooms, and the lack of normal sleep was beginning now to affect them. Kirnoth especially, who was not normally effected by the pull of slumber, was exhausted from his complete manna drain.
As they stepped into Grey House, they could already smell the scent of breakfast being prepared in the kitchen at the back of the house. Most of the oil lanterns that adorned the walls were out, but there was enough light for them to see Abernathy approaching from the shadows of the inner hall. He wasn't wearing his normal black jerkin and he wore a white apron around his waist.
"Ah, I see that you have found Battleguard Ruze and Archer Talteppe," the manservant said. "How splendid. It is good to see you both again."
Finian raised an eyebrow and looked skeptically at Ledare and Kirnoth.
"It's okay," Kirnoth whispered to him and smiled at Abernathy.
"Will you all be having breakfast?" he asked the Janissary as he began to light the other glass lamps set about the entryhall. "I can have Alyllyra prepare some more sausage links."
"I don't know, Abernathy," Ledare began. "I need to get some sleep before I go report to the King."
"Do you want us to go with you to talk to the King, Ledare?" Kirnoth asked, massaging his neck with one hand.
"Grmnmral not go talk to King," the mongrelman croaked. "Grmnmral sleep and eat and then go to save tribe."
"And I was given this mission by my High Priest," Ruze said. "I owe Nasser-Ubeen a report, not the King."
"Well, at the very least, I need to go and tell him about these rat men and their leader, Magnus."
Abernathy sucked in his breath and the globe of the oil lamp he was attempting to light crashed to the floor. He blinked at them from the shadows. In the flickering half-light, the manservant looked every bit as wan and pale as Ruze had in Selejian's cellar.
"Did you say: Magnus?" Abernathy asked and Ledare nodded.
"Does the name mean something to you?" she asked.
"Well, I- I'm not sure," he began, wringing his hands fitfully on his apron. His expression was very troubled. "It may not be the same man, but one of the last group of Initiates to Grey Company was named Magnus. He was a cleric, I believe. He was thrown out along with all the others after..."
His voice trailed off and Finian finished for him.
"After they turned evil," he said and Abernathy nodded.
"Magnus could have been converted to a wererat while at Grey House," Finian speculated. "He may have initially been good, but got changed."
"I-I couldn't say," Abernathy said. He seemed to notice the broken glass for the first time and jerked into action. "I'll fetch something to clean up this mess."
He rushed off into the gloomy Inner Hall.
"Certain strains of lycanthropy do have an effect on ethics and morals," Ruze offered and Ledare yawned.
"Let's debate this after we've slept," she suggested. "I can barely think straight."
Ledare found a sealed envelope on her bed when she entered. The light of Orin's Shield was peaking in through the shutters of her window, and by that light she could see that the envelope bore her name on the front. She immediately recognized the penmanship as Del's, eagerly broke the wax Janissary seal and pulled out the letter within. It read:
"My dear Ledare,
It seems that Umba has decreed that we are ever to pass each other on our journeys but never to journey the same path together. It was with a very heavy heart that I found you had left Grey House when I came to call after dinner. I was happy to find your letter waiting for me, but I had hoped to spend at least some time in your company before the King's service takes me south at dawn."
She looked up then and scowled at the red light of sunup streaming in through her window.
"You and I leave much unsaid and undone between us, and that - for now - must suffice, it seems. I have things that I would say, tales I would tell, but they are words better saved for a time when I can see your face. Without your eyes by which to judge your reaction, I would be lost. When I return from this assignment, perhaps we can find the time for one another to get reacquainted.
As to where I am going and when I will return - I cannot say. It is the King's decree that this mission be even more secretive than was even your first assignment. Suffice it to say that when we heard of Carlina's assignment to Castle Rechthafen, we thought that it was distant - I sail tomorrow for a place further still. When I will return depends on what I find there.
I will stay awake tonight, Ledare. If you read this letter and can come to the barracks before midnight, I would be pleased to see you once more before I leave. If not, then know that I am thinking of you and smiling.
Yours, Delaroux"
"I vote for Myth Drannor," Kirnoth was saying when Ledare entered the Morning Room.
"If the Grey Lords cannot handle the situation in Myth Drannor there is most likely little that we could do to help," Finian countered. As he was debating with the mage, he was holding onto a bit of rawhide that Curly was furiously trying to wrench from the Archer's grip.
The two of them sat on one side of the table. Ruze sat at its end and the mongrelman sat alone on the opposite side. The misshapen creature was doing its absolute best to eat every scrap of food within reach. Sandwiches, salads, and several varieties of seafood were arrayed in front of Grmnmral and he was stuffing them in his mouth with purpose.
Ledare yawned. She hadn't slept well and it showed around her eyes.
"Is that you, Ledare?" Ruze asked, turning his face blindly toward the sound of the Janissary's yawn.
"Yes," she replied and picked up a crustless sandwich from the tray on the table. "Has your vision returned?"
"Not yet," he told her with a wan smile. "My Queen works in her own way and on her own schedule."
"And you see," Finian went on, "If Ruze is blind, he will not be able to come to Pellham. That leaves just the three of us."
"Ruze, would you join us?" Kirnoth asked and the Battleguard shook his head.
"We have aided the Kossuthians and found the missing artisans," he said. "My mission is complete. I should return to the temple and find out from Nasser-Ubeen what Shaharizod has in store for me."
"See, Kirnoth," Finian interjected. "I think that it is a good idea to go with Grmnmral. The troubles he's described sound like some type of plague only our enemy Heurist could unleash. Remember that he's got the Scrolls of Vector because of us. I feel responsible for that and I want to help Grmnmral."
"Friend Finian is good to Grmnmral's tribe," the mongrelman growled around a mouthful of scallops. He frowned then at Kirnoth and added, "Not like Naked Smoothface."
The elf sighed.
"I have to say, as much as I want to help Grmnmral, I think we need to stay focused," he admitted. "What do you think, Ledare?"
"Huh?" the Janissary asked, shaking the sleepy fog from her head. "I'm sorry. I wasn't listening."
"Do you think we should head back to Riverneck and check out the disease and these monsters that Grmnmral mentioned?" Finian asked.
"Or should we stay focused on the bigger picture and head to Myth Drannor?" Kirnoth countered.
Before she could answer, Abernathy poked his head into the room and cleared his throat.
"There's someone to see you all at the front door," he said.
"Ah, Janissary," Sergeant Rumboyle said with an affable smile. "It's good to see you again."
He stood on the portico of Grey House behind and to the left of one of the King's Seneschals. At Rumboyle's side, standing behind and to the right of the Seneschal was Sergeant Griffith, looking as though he had yet to put his head to a pillow after the activities at Selejian's studio. Arrayed behind them were a dozen Armsmen, wearing the surcoats of the King's palace guards with longswords strapped at their hips.
"It is good to see you all," the Seneschal said and handed a sealed scroll tube to the Janissary. Ledare looked at the half-elf skeptically before cracking the King's seal and reading the proclamation.
"It says that we're being called before the King for an immediate audience," she told the others. "We're to provide an accounting of our involvement in the matter."
"You may make yourselves presentable for court," the Seneschal added. "We'll wait to escort you all to Hasding Island."
Ledare rolled the scroll tight and slipped it back inside its tube.
"Is this all really necessary, Sergeant?" she asked Rumboyle, angling her head at the array of armed guards. "Why do I feel as if you are here to deliver us as much as anything else?"
Rumboyle shrugged and rubbed the back of his meaty neck with one hand.
"Sadly, Janissary, I don't have the answers you crave," he admitted. "I've only just received summons myself."
"I believe that the King's proclamation clearly states His Majesty's intent," the Seneschal said with the annoyed tone of a lifetime beaurocrat. "You are all to report for a royal audience, but beyond that, only the King can say for certain."
Grmnmral groaned and cowered behind Finian's legs.
"Grmnmral does not want to see King Smoothface," the mongrelman protested. "Smoothfaces only take from my people. Take. Take. Ta-"
"It's okay, Grmnmral," Finian told the little creature. "I've met with the King before. He is fair and just. There's no reason to be afraid."
"Friend Finian knows the King?" the mongrelman asked in obvious awe. The eyebrow on the human side of his face raised as he looked up at the Archer. "Grmnmral is impressed, so he is."
"I don't mean to be difficult," Ruze began, lifting a hand to attract attention to himself, "but I'm not really part of The Grey Company. I was only working with them for a short while and don't actually-"
"Were you with them at Romero Selejian's studio?" the Seneschal asked and Ruze nodded. "Then you too are summoned. All who were present at the studio - no matter their involvement or affiliation - are summoned now before the King."
The Seneschal's tone was becoming more and more irritated and it was obvious from his body language that he wasn't used to having to explain the King's wishes.
"Now I say again," he repeated. "Make yourselves presentable for court and we will escort you to Hasding Island."