The cottage door burst open and a male shifter stepped outside, features transformed into his full bestial aspect. The man's eyes were completely white, his forehead split open. Blood from the ghastly wound trickled down the sides of his face, and Ghaji remembered that it had been he who dealt that killing wound so long ago. This was Ruelo, the wood-wright the orcs had been sent to kill, and whose entire family they had slaughtered.
As Ruelo's animated corpse came charging toward Ghaji and Yvka, three other figures emerged from the cottage, and Ghaji knew the wood-wright wasn't the only shifter looking for revenge.
As soon as the sensation of vertigo hit him, Tresslar understood what was happening. Of course, Solus's warning helped, too. They were being subjected to a psionic assault of some sort, and while Tresslar was hardly a psionicist, he knew enough to attempt to mount a defense against such an attack-and he still had hold of the dragonwand. It all came down to speed now. If he could cast a spell before the psionic attack fully took hold of his mind…
The momentary dizziness passed, and Tresslar found himself standing within a cavern before the dead body of a large green dragon.
"Damn," the artificer muttered.
He'd been too slow. He looked down at his hand and saw that it was empty, and more startlingly, that it had become the hand of a far younger man, one in his early twenties. It seemed that not only did he find himself inhabiting a memory, he was-outwardly at least-the same age he'd been then. He knew he was still a man in his seventies, and he still held the dragonwand, but as long as this illusion had a grip on him, he would be unable to draw upon the wand's magic. If only he'd been faster…
A coughing-gagging sound came from his right, and he turned to see Asenka standing next to him. The woman's eyes were wide with alarm, and she had her hand to her throat as she struggled to breathe.
Tresslar felt the pebble under his tongue, and he realized what was happening. The air in the cavern had been tainted by the dragon's toxic breath, and Asenka didn't have an enchanted pebble to help her breathe. It didn't matter that they weren't really here, and that the air wasn't really filled with deadly gas. Their minds had been made to believe it, and their bodies would react accordingly. If Tresslar didn't do something to help her, she would die.
Tresslar quickly reached into his backpack and withdrew a pebble. He took hold of Asenka's face with one hand and slipped the pebble beneath her tongue with the other.
"You'll be all right now," he told her. "Just try to breathe normally."
It took several moments for Asenka's panic to subside, but eventually she got hold of herself enough to ask, "What's happening?" She frowned at him. "Who are you?"
That's right, Tresslar thought. Though her appearance hasn't changed, I look like a young lad to her. "Do you remember the story I told you aboard the Zephyr, about how I came to find the dragonhead on my wand?"
Asenka frowned. "Tresslar?"
The artificer nodded. "We've become trapped within that memory. Though why you should be here too, I'm not certain. Perhaps it's simply because I told the story to you recently. At any rate, here we are."
Asenka looked around the cavern, grimacing as she saw the bloody remains of the dead dragon. "We're actually inside one of your memories?"
"Technically, this memory has been used to create a psionic illusion to ensnare our minds. I assume the same thing has happened to our companions."
"Why?"
"We came to Mount Luster to prevent Cathmore from using the psi-forge. I imagine he's trying to stop us."
"You think you're smart." The voice boomed through the cavern, echoing off the walls, and seeming to vibrate through their very bones.
They turned to see that the dragon-Paganus, Tresslar recalled-had raised his head and was glaring at them with a single milky-white eye.
"If you're so damned clever, how come you never learned what the Amahau was or why I had it? How come you've never taken the time to fully investigate the Amahau and discover its true power? Is it because you're not as intelligent as you like to others to think-or is that you've been afraid all these years? Afraid of finding out what it was that you stole from me?"
Despite the knowledge that this wasn't truly Paganus they faced, the dragon's words still cut Tresslar deep-for while the beast might not be real, his accusation was all too accurate.
Before Tresslar could stammer a reply, Paganus roared, spraying blood from his wounded throat, and attacked.
Hinto was very confused. One second they had been standing outside the mountain, and now it seemed that he and Solus were inside, though he didn't remember actually entering. The two of them stood within a large cavern, facing a strange object made entirely of crystal. The thing glowed with a pulsing inner light that spilled into the chamber, the eerie illumination only serving to make the cavern's darkness more ominous. The shadows reminded Hinto of the terrible nights he had endured aboard the Proud Pelican, shipwrecked in the Mire. He felt the first stirrings of panic-a cold, jittery sensation just below his sternum, but he gritted his teeth and fought his fear. Whatever was happening, his friends… especially Solus… were counting on him, and he was determined not to let them down again.
Speaking of friends, Hinto couldn't see any of them, just Solus.
"That's because they aren't present," the psi-forged said, "or rather, they are, but we currently exist on separate psionic frequencies. We share the same physical space, but not the same mental space."
Hinto had no idea what his new friend was saying, but the specifics didn't matter. He understood enough: Diran and the others were here, but he couldn't see them, which meant they couldn't see him, either. It was like being lost in a thick fog at sea. Two ships could pass right by each other and never know the other was there.
"An apt comparison, my friend," Solus said.
"So this place… is where you were born?"
The psi-forged nodded. "That is the creation forge where I was imbued with life, or at least an image of it. I believe Galharath is standing within the true forge, using its power to boost his psionic abilities to create this illusion, as well as those that our friends are currently experiencing."
"Galharath?"
"The kalashtar who repaired the psi-forge for Aldarik Cathmore. My full memories-such as they are-have returned. I believe exposure to the forge's energies has restored my mind to its previous state, completing the repairs Tresslar began."
"That's wonderful!" Hinto said. "Is your vision restored as well?"
"No. I will need to continue to rely on you as my eyes."
"But you remember everything about how to use your powers, right?" the halfling asked. "That means you can fight Galharath!"
"It's not that simple, my friend. Galharath attacked before my mind was restored, and I was unable to shield us from his assault. I am trapped within his illusions as surely as the rest of you."
"But you can fight your way free… can't you?"
"Perhaps with time, but Galharath isn't going to give me the chance."
"Too true."
Hinto turned to see that they were no longer alone in the cavern. Four people stood shoulder to shoulder, glaring at Hinto and Solus with dead-white eyes: a human and three kalashtar. Though the halfling pirate had never seen any of them before, he knew who they were. Perhaps Solus had psionically shared the knowledge with him, or perhaps it was Galharath's doing. Either way, Hinto recognized Banain, Evalina, Turi, and Karnil-the telekineticist, artificer, psionicist, and House Cannith overseer who had been responsible for the creation of the psi-forge and Solus's birth. It was they whose minds Solus had accidentally absorbed in the first confusing moments after he emerged from the psi-forge.