"I never thought I'd lay eyes on this forsaken place again," Ren said softly.
In silence, they rode down into the valley. Kern kept a hand on the enchanted warhammer at his side. He did his best to swallow the lump in his throat. The adventurers halted among the lichen-covered boulders at the edge of the ruins, dismounting and tethering the horses. From here they would go on foot.
Listle pulled a handful of glittering dust from one of the myriad pouches hanging at her belt. "This will stick to anything magical in the ruins," she explained. "It should help us avoid any traps. It's a good idea to avoid anything that sparkles. Unless, of course, you happen to like surprises."
She tossed the shimmering dust up into the air. As the wind caused it to swirl, the dust seemed to multiply, as if each speck had split itself in two, and each of these had split as well. The cloud of dust rose high into the sky, expanding as it did until it covered the entire ruin. Then slowly it began to drift down like fine, sparkling snow. Listle gasped.
"What is it?" Daile asked in concern.
"The dust-it's settling everywhere!" Listle exclaimed. 'The entire ruin must be magic. But how can that be?" The elf sank onto a boulder, visibly shaken. The spell had drained far more of her strength than she had anticipated.
Sirana gave Listle's shoulder a patronizing squeeze. "Allow me, little sister."
I'm not your little sister! Listle thought angrily. However, she refrained from speaking, opting for a sullen glare instead.
The wild mage spread her arms wide, her snowy robe and dark hair flowing in the wind. She intoned the arcane words of a spell. Tendrils of colorless, pulsating mist rose out of the ground to creep among the fallen stones. Like ethereal serpents, the coils of mist spread throughout the ruins. Then they faded.
Sirana blinked in surprise. "The ruins are rebuilding themselves!" the wild mage exclaimed.
"What?" Ren asked in surprise.
A slight frown creased Sirana's forehead. "You may have destroyed the pool of darkness, Ren o' the Blade, but the wizard who built this tower commanded vast power. That power still infuses each of these rocks, as well as the very ground we stand upon. As we speak, slowly but surely, the tower seeks to restore itself, to rise into the sky once more and regain its former glory."
"Glory," Miltiades repeated in his eerie voice. "An interesting choice of words, Sirana."
She shrugged. "I suppose 'glory' isn't the right word, considering the great evil of the Red Wizard who built this tower. But even you, noble paladin, must admire the loyalty inherent in these stones, a loyalty that compels them to raise themselves anew long years after their master's death."
Miltiades nodded silently, but he found her words curious. The wild mage was something of a mystery to him. Most living beings radiated strong auras that revealed their true natures to the paladin. But from Sirana he sensed… nothing. True, he could detect nothing evil about her-unlike these ruins, which seemed to ooze evil like foul ichor. However, he could not sense any goodness in the wild mage either.
"So where do we start looking for the hammer, Kern?" Daile asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Down," he said, gazing at the jagged, broken tower. "Down in the darkness below."
"Then we must start by locating the stairway," Miltiades offered. "When the tower was whole, there was a vast, spiral staircase of red marble that led from a great hall down to the caverns beneath. That was where the pool of darkness lay, as well as the cavern where Phlan was imprisoned. It must lie somewhere in the heart of the ruins."
"If it hasn't been buried in the rubble," Kern added grimly.
"I think this calls for a little scouting, don't you, Daile?" Ren said.
The archer nodded at her father. "When we rode into the valley, I caught sight of the remains of a guard tower on the far side of the ruins. I bet it would give us a good vantage."
Ren grinned proudly at his daughter.
Miltiades pointed out a huge, headless statue that stood near the center of the ruins. Ren and Daile agreed to rendezvous with the others there in two hours' time. The two rangers quickly disappeared among the boulders.
Well, Kern thought, there's no use in lingering. With a deep breath, he plunged into the ruins, Miltiades, Sirana, and Listle following.
The valley was a brooding place. The air was stifling, and the ground was as hard and cracked as if it had been fired in a furnace. Half-formed walls sketched vague, roofless rooms, and massive lintels marked doorways leading nowhere. Scabrous lichen covered the stones like a disease. Dusting everything was a fine, sparkling powder, the remnants of Listle's spell.
"You have talent, little sister," Sirana said with a pretty smile. "It is no mean feat to cast a spell covering such a large area. Now you simply need to learn how to focus your energies. But I'm certain, once you gain a little experience, you'll have no trouble."
Listle's eyes were diamond-hard. "Why, thank you, Sirana," she said frostily. She knew she shouldn't let Sirana's imperious manner get to her, but Kern was so insufferably polite to the wild mage, so deferential and gallant. Even now he nodded attentively as she walked beside him, talking softly about the gods knew what.
Probably me, Listle thought glumly.
"Are you well, Listle?" a dry voice inquired.
She barely noticed the involuntary shiver that ran up her spine. She was still getting used to Miltiades-and the chill that perpetually hovered around him.
"Do you trust her, Miltiades?" Listle asked quietly, gazing at the wild mage.
The skeletal knight was silent for a time. "Trust is like a shield," he said finally. "It has two surfaces, one facing inward and one facing outward. Without both, the shield cannot be." Miltiades seemed to smile, even though his lips had turned to dust centuries ago. "But in answer to your question, Listle, I do not know whether to trust Sirana. But she has been helpful to our quest so far, and until she acts otherwise, I will regard her as an ally, if not a friend."
"Oh," was all Listle said. His words did not ease her troubled heart, and both of them knew it.
"Listle, take a look at this," Kern said, interrupting the elf's reverie. He and the wild mage had stopped in front of a doorway set into a high stone wall. The magic that was rebuilding the tower had accomplished much in this place. The wall was solid, curving to the right and left as far as Listle could see. A single rune was carved above the arched doorway.
Listle stood on tiptoe to study the rune. "It's not one I recognize, but I don't think it's a warning rune of any sort."
Sirana said nothing. Evidently, she agreed.
"Well, if it doesn't portend danger, I suppose there's no harm in passing through," Kern decided. He stepped into the shadowed portal, disappearing from view. Sirana followed, as did Miltiades. Listle was the last to walk through the doorway.
On the other side, the elf found herself at the end of a long, stone-walled walkway. The others were nowhere to be seen. She whirled around in surprise, only to discover that the portal had vanished. She was alone. She tried scaling the wall, but quickly ascertained that its surface was as slippery as glass.
"Kern!" she called out as loud as she could. "Miltiades!"
"Listle?" she heard a faint reply borne by the wind. It was Kern's voice. "Where is everybody? I seem to be alone in some sort of maze."
Maze? Suddenly Listle thought she understood what had happened. "It must have been a magical portal, Kern!" she shouted over the high wall. "I think it transported each of us to a different section of the maze."
Kern shouted something in reply, but the words were muffled by the wind. She shouted again, but this time there was no answer. She could only hope that Kern had heard her, and that the others had come to the same realization. There was nothing to do now but to try to find her way out of the maze. Despite her predicament, Listle had to grin. She loved mazes.