"I do need to warn you," Carlisle said. "The wards on the automaton are particularly potent so please do not touch her or cast spells."
"Can't you control them?" One pastor questioned.
"How close can we approach it?" Another added.
"It is safe to get very close but do not touch it," Carlisle explained. "And we can control the protections so as to be able to handle her but it is difficult to extend that to others."
"Meaning you don't want us touching your new toy?" Harson said bluntly.
"Yes," the automaton mage answered before Demarest could speak. "Salona is a very potent piece of magic and to be blunt I am not taking the smallest chance it could be taken by someone else."
Demarest nodded in agreement. "Until she is fully understood Salona stays here and under strict control of the guild."
"That's understandable," a pastor commented. "But we need to know exactly what it is you have here."
"I have to admit that when father Burtrig first brought this to our attention, we thought he was exaggerating," Harson said.
"It does sound like a child's tale," a pastor commented.
"When I was a child I remember hearing the stories of the metal dragons and griffons and thought those were just fairy tales. I never expected to see one. And yet I have actually helped assemble a real automaton," Carlisle responded.
"What of the tales of death and destruction?" a woman pastor asked. "Most of the tales speak of them laying waste to whole cities."
"I won't lie," Carlisle said. "I've heard those tales too. And we have found enough evidence to prove such massive creatures once existed. " He walked over to the metal feline and patted it on the shoulder. "Salona is not such a creature."
"But she is still a killing machine," a bishop responded.
"Anyone can be a killer," Idette responded. "Wasn't there a king killed by a seven year old girl once? It all depends on the person and not the weapons."
Harson pointed to the metal feline. "What of that person? Where is the soul that once resided in there?"
"It is not in there," Demarest answered.
Harson smiled. "I know that already. Where is it?"
"Of that we are not certain," the guild Master said. "But we are searching for it."
"I can assure you," Carlisle said. "That we have no intention of capturing a soul to use in this automaton. Even if we knew how."
"You don't know?" Harson asked.
"No. We have recovered much Automata knowledge but that has not been. Also it is one we have not pursued."
Harson stared at Carlisle. Gone was the smile and he looked at Carlisle with an intensity that almost made the mage flinch. After a long moment of silence the bishop nodded and his face broke into a smile and was all warmth again.
A tall, stout woman whose short, curly, black hair told of Suielish heritage stepped forward and pointed to the metal feline. "Does that work, or is it merely a large, expensive metal statue?"
"It is unfinished," Carlisle admitted. "The protective magic is working but we have no way to animate it. We are working on a way for a mage to control it. The mage's soul remains in his own body but he extends his mind and remotely operates the form."
"Similar to how a golem is controlled?" The woman asked.
"Exactly," Carlisle answered. "Also I have seen it used to control some animals."
"Can you demonstrate this now?" another priest spoke.
Carlisle shook his head in answer. "No, we have had great success on lesser mechanical objects but not Salona. The wards protecting her are very powerful and we're still adapting the needed spells."
"You call her Salona," a woman asked. She was wearing a simple dress that was so clean and unsullied that it had to be less than a day from the dressmaker. Her hair had been carefully cleaned and arranged with ribbons and a single silver braid. The eyes that bored into his own seemed to miss nothing. It was clear her mind was as sharp as the edge of a sword blade. This was no lifelong cleric, instead this was the wife of a craftsman here in the city and probably a skilled crafter herself. Some Rebuilder groups had no priests or priestesses instead members of the congregation took turns doing the duties. She was probably one such person. "Why do you call her that?"
"It's her name," Idette said. "We found a small slip of paper that read; Her name is Salona. Please take good care of her."
The woman nodded slowly without taking her eyes off the feline. "That's very tender."
"Whoever took Salona apart did so with great care. They even numbered all the parts so as to make her reassembly all the easier," Idette said.
Harson motioned with his hands and the visitors came together as a group and huddled for several minutes before finally breaking and turning back to the mages. "We wish to see this creation in operation before we can judge further."
"All right," Demarest responded. "We will be ready shortly for such a demonstration."
Bishop Harson bowed deeply. "I thank you for the tour. We'll be back for the demonstration in three days. Until then we will be keeping a close eye on this project of yours. Of course you will inform us if and when you discover the final disposition of the soul."
"Of course!" the Guild Master answered.
Demarest watched as the group of Rebuilders vanished through the gateway and down the street. Hardly had the group vanished from sight when three servants stepped up to him.
"Master Demarest, Rabbi Arstein has arrived and wishes an audience with you about the Automaton issue," the first servant said.
"Master Demarest, High priestess Delminie and her retinue have also arrived and wish to see this new project of yours," the second servant added.
"Master Demarest, Sir Tahge has arrived and," the woman stopped speaking for a moment. "His exact words were 'He is here to clarify this latest trouble the Guild has caused."
The guild master took a deep breath to steady his nerves. "Please send the rabbi my regards and see he is made comfortable in the Green chamber. Send the Priestess my regards and have her made comfortable in the Blue room. Tell them both I will see to them as soon as possible."
Two of the servants took off on their appointed tasks leaving the nervous third standing there. "What mood is Tarhge in Wendy?"
"Well," the woman started. "Angry. When I left he was pacing the private parlor like a caged lion."
"Thank you Wendy. You can go back to your work. I'll see to the kings representative myself."
"So this is your newest toy?" Sir William Targhe snarled. "The anger and contempt all too clear. Sir Targhe was dressed in a blue and brown doublet and pants all of the finest silk and embroidered extensively. His hair was carefully coiffured in the latest style. But for all the finery he was no helpless fool. He knew very well how to use the sword that hung from his shark skin belt. His full name was Lord William Targhe, knight of the order of Dobrina and the personal representative of Alfred the third, king of Marigund. That last fact was one he never let anyone forget.
"This is hardly a toy Sir William," the guild master responded.
"LORD William," the man snarled, cutting of Demarest in midsentence. "You will treat me with the respect my station deserves. I speak for the King."
"You will curb that insolent tongue Sir William," Demarest said coldly. "Or have you forgotten MY rank and station? I am LORD Demarest and also a knight of the order of Dobrina."
"As am I!" Targhe countered. "The king is tired of the guilds antics," he snapped. "This is the second time your incompetence has left the country upset over matters of faith."
"Do you really believe we desired that Questioners presence here?" Demarest responded. "Do you think we wished him dead?"
"Of course," Lord William answered. "Most everyone wanted him dead."
A faint smile crossed the Guild Master's face for a moment. "True but the Guild was not knowingly involved," Demarest said. "I am just thankful that it was Guild mages who tried to kill him and not one of the faiths."
"Agreed," Lord Targhe responded. "That spared Marigund so much trouble." He turned and walked over to where Salona was laying. The man looked at the creature intently. "Just how powerful is this?"
"We're not certain but it is very powerful," Demarest explained. "Our only real example to go by is Madog and I need not tell you of his powers. Misha believes she is both older and more powerful but he cannot be certain until the automaton awakens."
"What of the soul involved? The reason all these faiths are so upset. Do you have that?"
Demarest slowly nodded his head. "We have located the vessel containing it but we haven't retrieved it yet. It's rested in the Guilds most secure Vault for centuries unrecognized."
"Are there other such souls hidden in there?" Targhe questioned harshly.
"The Guild has NEVER knowingly trafficked in or held souls captive," was the Guild masters harsh response.
"You have not answered my question," the kings representative countered. "What else is in that vault?"
Demarest gave a wry smile. "That is a question I also want to know and we are trying to find out. It's not what we know that worries me. It's what unknown items are there that truly worry me. There are things in that place that must never see the light of day again."
"The king himself will appoint someone to oversee the complete inventory of the Vault," the knight explained.
"Understood but this person will be trustworthy?" Demarest asked. "A person who can keep secrets."
The knight nodded in response. "Of course. He'll not be a Guild mage but will be someone that understands that some secrets are best kept."
"No matter how this goes," Lord Targhe said. "I see only trouble."
"Agreed, but there is no going back on this," Demarest said.
Sir Targhe let out a deep sigh. "All too true. At least you acted quickly and openly on this matter. For that the king is grateful. As am I."
"I saw no other appropriate course of action," Demarest commented. "It was already public knowledge that the guild was working on an automaton."
"The blind man was one of your special people." It was a statement and not a question.
"He was. Still is, but his actions were done without my approval."
"Will you continue to use him?" Targhe asked.
The mage shrugged. "I don't know. He was innocent in some ways. He truly did think I gave him those orders. But the fool should have known better. His judgment can no longer be trusted."
The two walked very slowly down the street. Misha, who could walk at a faster pace was moving slowly. Still they made steady progress as his body remembered a route he had taken countless times as a child. They would pause occasionally and he would point out some place where he had played as a child.
Brightleaf manor was a tall three story affair of dark brown stone. Standing on a ledge over the main door a stone griffon looked down on the courtyard.
Standing at the entrance to the estate was a young man attending to a pair of horses. He took one look at the approaching pair and his eyes widened in shock. He dropped the horses reins and raced towards the house.
The large front door swung open revealing a young woman no more than twenty years old. She spoke with the boy and then looked in the direction he pointed. She looked straight at Misha and Caroline and he face broke into as wide smile. "PAPA!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. "They're here!"
A crowd quickly gathered in the courtyard. Mostly servants many of whom Misha recognized. There was Wilfred the stable master looking a little older but still as tough as ever. Next to him was the Mistress of the Hall - the woman who was in charge of all the servants and staff. Her short stocky frame betrayed her having been born of the tough mountain folk.
The crowd suddenly parted revealing two figures making their way slowly down the steps. Reuben Brightleaf was of middling height and with a rough and weather worn face whose eyes missed little of what was going on around him. His hair was more gray then it's original black and was thinning on top. His clothes were well made and finely cut speaking of money well spent on it but was just warn enough to speak of being his normal wear and not merely worn to impress.
On his right arm was a woman of about the same age as Reuben. Her hair was a dark brown and heavily salted with gray. Her long, flowing dress was of purple wool. For someone so rich Muriel was wearing remarkably little jewelry. A gold wedding ring was on one hand and a necklace of silver chain dangled from her neck ending in a broach of the same silver.
"Welcome home," Reuben said and hugged his son tightly.
His mother walked up to him and hugged him tightly. Then she kissed him gently on the muzzle. She touched the tattered stump that had been left ear. Her hands lightly traced the scar that ran along the one side of his muzzle. "Dear Lord what's happened to you?"
Misha kissed her and hugged her gently. "I'm fine Mom. I survived and that's all that matters." He pointed to Caroline. "This is the most wonderful person in the world my fiancé Caroline Hardy."
"Carol," Misha said solemnly and pointed to the older couple. "These are my parents Reuben and Muriel Brightleaf."
Caroline curtsied to the older couple. "It's an honor to finally meet you."
Without hesitating both parents moved to Caroline and hugged her. "Welcome home daughter."
The figure that walked through the door was not what Demarest had expected Rabbi Arstein to look like. He had expected a short gray haired gentleman with a face lined with years of worry and care. Instead the rabbi was a tall, straight-standing man with the muscles of a warrior. His hair was black and liberally peppered with gray. His skin had the color of parchment telling of someone from the southern coast. The guild master remembered that the rabbi's parents had fled to Marigund when he was a child. His black jacket and pants were contrasted by the gold and silver sash wrapped around his waist. As the leader of the largest Predecessor community in the Midlands he commanded respect even from those who hated his faith.
"Master Demarest," the rabbi said and smiled. "Thank you for seeing me. I hope Sir Targhe didn't wear you out completely."
"No he didn't," the guild master answered. "I was expecting a confrontation from him. Just not so soon. You know of his visit?"
"Sir Targhe's arrival was not pleasant," came the clerics answer. "I could hear him screaming all the way across the courtyard."
"My apologies," Demarest said and bowed slightly. "He is upset at the guild."
"William is always upset about something," the rabbi answered. "I keep telling him to relax but he doesn't listen."
"He is king Alfred's personal representative. High stress is part and parcel of the title and duties," was the guild master's response.
"Things are still unsettled from the affair with the Questioner," Arstein commented softly. "Marigund does not need such commotions."
"We did not ask Akaleth to come here," the mage said coldly.
"I understand that," the cleric said. "But I was referring to how his visit ended."
Demarest stiffened. "The guild did not condone or help in any way with the assassination attempt," he said in clipped tones.
"Still, it was poorly handled," Arstein said and leaned close to the mage. "We will not see that repeated with this automaton will we?" There was an edge to the clerics voice that had the ring of authority to it.
"No Rabbi Arstein," was the mage's cold answer. "But the matter is complex."
"Any matter involving the soul is complex." Arstein slowly walked over to where Salona was resting. Carlisle and Idette stood nearby silent but listening to everything.
"A beautiful work of art," Arstein said. "More like a statue then a killing machine."
"We have no way of knowing what her true purpose was," Carlisle said. Speaking for the first time.
"Nor do we know what her soul is like," Idette added. "Madog is an automaton and he is the kindest and most gentle soul I've ever met."
"That is not the topic of discussion here. We people of faith agree on only one thing," Rabbi Arstein said slowly without taking his eyes off the metal feline. "That the imprisonment and use of a soul is a terrible sin and must be punished harshly."
Demarest shook his head. "The Guild has never, NEVER knowingly trafficked in or held souls captive. Nor will we ever."
"How do you explain having one now?"
"We cannot," Demarest answered.
"For some reason this lost soul found its way to us. Now it's our responsibility to see that it's cared for properly." Idette intoned solemnly.
Father Marchel arrived ten minutes after Demarest had seen off Arstein. He doubted that the priest's timing was accidental. "Good afternoon Father Marchel," Demarest said trying to sound cheerful as he extended his hand.
The father smiled and shook the mages hand with a strong grip. "Thank you for seeing me. I know how busy you are."
"Never too busy for you or the cardinal," the mage responded.
The priest nodded slowly. "It is at the cardinals behest that I am here. He is disturbed by the rumors of your guild dabbling in automatons and souls."
"I can understand his worries," the mage said. "But rest assured that the guild has never knowingly trafficked or held captive a soul or spirit."
"The cardinal is well aware of that stated policy but we are also aware that the guild might indeed have a captive soul in its possession."
"We are not certain of that fact," was the Head Master's answer. "The guild is in possession of many items that we know little of."
"Ignorance does not lessen the nature of the crime," was the father's answer.
"Sir," Carlisle said in angry tones. "The guild does NOT traffic souls. We did not imprison that soul nor do we intend to use it for our own gain."
"Then what do you intend to do with it?" the priest asked harshly.
"That has yet to be decided," Demarest answered. "First we must confirm that we do have it."
"And if you do have it? Then what?"
"Then everyone will have to decide," Demarest answered.
High priestess Valarie Delminie came with a small retinue of people. The high priestess of the Lightbringer faith for the Outer Midlands was tall and thin and moved with a subtle grace that spoke of an elvish ancestor in the far past. Her silver hair was kept in place by a silver tiara. Her powder blue gown flowed all the way to the floor and billowed about as she walked. Lady Delminie was new to Marigund having arrived only a few months before. No one was sure if her being sent here from Sathmore was a reward or a punishment. Not the least of those was Delminie herself.
Standing a step behind the high priestess was an older woman with long blond hair that was bound up in tight braids. Priestess Azaelle Ferame was born and raised in Marigund and served in various temples in the Outer Midlands for years. Most had expected her to become the new high priestess when the old high priest had died. It was a rude shock to everyone when a young and some say head strong priestess had been sent from Sathmore. It made for complications that no one wanted.
Standing next to Azaelle was a man who was only slightly shorter than the priestess. As the official Lightbringer priest assigned to the guild Torrey Atchinsen was well known to Demarest. The young man had done very well last year when the guild had faced a wraith in Wolin.
"I wish to know who is responsible for this crime!" The high priestess demanded.
"Thank you for coming Lady Delminie," the Guild Master said trying to sound pleasant "If you'll please have a seat I'll explain everything."
It was with great relief that they watched the Lightbringer priestess leave. Two hours of arguing and debating had left everyone drained.
Carlisle slumped down into a chair too exhausted to stand any longer. "I need a drink."
"A large drink," Idette said.
"That went better than expected," Demarest said. "No one threatened to have us burned at the stake."
"Yet."
"Are you sure you're ready for this?"Idette asked nervously.
"Yes!" Joeline insisted in clipped tones.
"This will only be a short duration experiment," Carlisle said. "We are only trying to establish if you can control the automaton."
The automaton was resting in the small room where it had been stored and assembled but the room had been stripped of everything but the metal sabercat and the table it was resting on. Aside from the metal feline only Carlisle, Idette and Joeline were present. Just outside the room was the entire Automata department along with two of the guilds combat mages and eight of the best fighters the guild could hire. All of them had been soldiers before joining the guild and had long experience fighting the odd and unusual.
"Joeline," the department head said slowly. "Go carefully. We're not sure of how the spells will react to you. Our troubles occurred when we tried to force our way past the defenses. So if you run into any trouble back out immediately."
The girl nodded slowly, a frightened look on her face. Carlisle gave her a hug. "Don't be afraid. If I thought you were in danger I would never allow it."
"The wards are graduated," Idette said. "The harder you try to get past them the more forceful the reaction from them. So use a gentle touch and if you cannot proceed without force then stop and withdraw."
"And if there are problems we can deal with them," Gina said. The woman was standing several steps back from where Joeline and Salona were in the center of the room.
"I will admit to being curious about what species she changes into if there is a problem," said a male, feline voice. Seated next to Gina were the lion and lioness. Both were curious enough about the metal sabertooth to come and observe.
"When the spell activates you'll find yourself out of your body," Idette explained. "You'll see Salona and she'll be surrounded by what looks like barriers of light. Those are the wards protecting her. You need to get past those and come into contact with the body itself."
Joeline closed her eyes and tried to relax.
"Here we go," Came Carlisle's voice.
Suddenly Joeline was floating above her body. Nearby she saw the metal sabercat surrounded by a wall of blue light. Without hesitating the young woman moved toward Salona. To her amazement the barrier just parted like someone opening a curtain. She extended a mental hand to the shoulder of the feline and felt something pull her inward. Not hard but gently, like a mother tenderly leading a young child. In a moment the metal body swallowed her up and she was inside.
The first thing Joeline felt was the soft tickling of wind across her body. It was a delicate sensation, like the soft wispy touch of a cobweb along her skin. An entirely new world of sounds and smells came to her. She could hear someone walking outside the building in spite of the foot thick stone wall. She could smell Carlisle standing close to her. His scent included a whiff of soap and the tea and mutton he had eaten for breakfast. Joeline could feel his anxiety and nervousness.
"I see movement!" The voice of Idette said. The words boomed loudly. "Her nose twitched."
"Joeline," Carlisle said in a calm tone. "Can you hear us? Are you in control?"
She opened her eyes and a world of light and colors flooded in. Joeline slowly looked around taking in the sights and sounds of the room around her. It was the same place and people and yet everything was so different! The air was filled with a thousand sounds and smells that she never knew existed. "Wow!" she growled. "This is amazing."
"How do you feel?" Idette asked. "You in any pain?"
"No but it's all so different. I can smell and hear everything."
"Try standing up," Carlisle ordered. "But go easily."
She looked down at her body and was surprised to see the four metal legs that were now hers. It took the young woman a moment to coordinate all four of her legs and stand up. Joeline stood there for a moment getting used to walking on four legs instead of two. It seemed oddly natural to her. Like she had been a quadruped her whole life. With each step she could feel this new body flex and move so easily. She could also feel the incredible power in the body.
"How does it feel?" Idette asked. "Any problems?"
"No," the metal feline answered. "It's hard to believe this was just a scattered collection of old and dirty pieces a few weeks ago."
"Indeed," Carlisle said.
"You're moving about like a real animal," Gina said. "You are mimicking even the smallest of nuances right down to the muscles under the skin."
The lion and lioness came up to the metal feline and walked along with her, one on either side. "The builders who created this made a long and detailed study of feline anatomy," the lion said calmly. "That is certainly clear. It's almost as if they changed a real Sabercat into a metal one."
"It must have been done from a live study," the lioness said.
"Impossible," the lion countered. "The last Sabercat died over thirty thousand years ago."
"But it is very clear they used a live model," Gina commented.
"Is Madog this exact a duplicate of a fox?" The lioness asked.
Carlisle shook his head. "No. Madog resembles a fox but he does not have the exacting details of Salona."
The lioness stepped very close to her and Joeline felt her fur rub against the metal skin of the body she was using. The rich, strong scent of the feline came to her. Also Joeline could smell the hardy, musky scent of the male.
"Only in touch does it feel wrong," the lioness said. "It feels cool and metallic."
"If you were to cover Salona with a Sabercat skin," Carlisle commented. "It might be hard to tell she wasn't a flesh and blood feline."
"There are distinct and clear differences," the lion growled. "That can be spotted."
"But not easily," the man countered.
The lion cocked his head to one side. "What are you thinking Carl? Was Salona once disguised as a real sabercat?"
"It would explain why they mimicked the real animal so closely."
"There is one problem with this concept," the lioness commented. "There are no Sabercats alive to get a skin from."
"An artificial skeleton and body so why not an artificial skin to go over it?" The man said without taking his eyes off the metal feline.
Joeline gave a short cough of laughter. "You're already thinking about how to make a skin to go over this metal body."
"Perhaps a weave of some metallic thread covered with fur," Carlisle said in a distracted tone as he gestured with his hands. "It would not truly resemble real fur but would provide a valuable covering, protecting the body from the weather."
"That's what fur does on real animals," the woman observed.
Joeline looked at her human body which was still stretched out on the mattress. Right where she had left it. It was an odd experience looking at her body like that. Suddenly a memory flooded into her mind. She was standing in another room, this one with walls covered with bright murals. The floor underneath had a mosaic of horses and other animals on a green plain. Next to her metal body a human body was stretched out on the floor. It was a tall, old woman whose nude body was crisscrossed with countless scars. Her right arm was missing below the elbow as was her right foot. Then as suddenly as the memory had come it vanished. Joeline found herself laying on the unadorned floor of the Guilds hall. Everyone was clustered around her.
"What happened?" The lion asked. "You suddenly stiffened and fell over."
"I had a memory," Joeline explained. "I think it was from the metal body."
"What did you see?" Gina asked.
"Suddenly I was in a different room and looking down at the body of an old woman," the girl explained. "She must have been a warrior because she had scars all over and was missing an arm and a foot. I think it was Salona. The original Salona's body before she got into this one."
"You might be picking up a true memory," Carlisle commented. "Automata magic does supplement the subject's original memories and skills."
"Could there be more memories in here?" Joeline asked nervously.
"Perhaps," the man replied. "You've done more than enough. It's time you returned to your own body."
The flesh and blood people in the group all nodded in agreement.
"Why does the body let me in and no one else?" Joeline asked. "It opened up and drew me inside."
"You've met some criteria preset when the wards were first set," Carlisle said. "What those are remains unknown."
"Perhaps you are a descendant of Salona or from the same clan or family?" Idette suggested. "Didn't Madog call you Joeline Oshalu Anrula. Anrula could be an old family name."
"Could be," Carlisle said. "Nothing Madog says is just nonsense. It all has a meaning of some sort. I noticed that both Caroline and Misha pay close attention to everything Madog says and does."
"I noticed that too," Idette commented. "Has anyone researched the word?"
The metal feline shook her massive head. "No. I keep meaning to but I've been busy."
"We all have," Idette laughed.
"These are questions for another time," Carlisle said slowly. "For now it is time for you to return to your body. We have pushed things far enough for today."
Joeline lay down her metal body and suddenly she was back in her flesh and blood one. She slowly sat up and looked herself over. "Well? Any fur on me?"
"No," Carlisle answered. "You look to be still human."
"Oh," the girl said with a sad look on her face.
Idette laughed. "You look disappointed."
Joeline climbed down from the bed. "Well I was hoping to at least get a tail or something."
"I can give you one if you want," Gina said. "Or perhaps we can change you into a Sabercat for a short time."
The girls face brightened into a broad smile immediately. "That would be great!"
William had to admit to himself that it was a very fine tomb. It was tucked into the back corner of the city cathedral, near a side altar. It had a full length effigy of its occupant laying on top of the slap. The dark, gray, stone figure was of a knight in full armor, complete with helmet, sword and spurs. "Herein lies Misha Brightleaf, brave soldier who died defending us all. 673 - 699" carved on the edge of the slab. A grand place to be interred for eternity.
"Hopeless," William thought to himself. "How do I defend my name and my ancestors honor against the words of a dead man? What do I do?"
"Impressive isn't it?" A voice asked behind him.
Turning around, he found a tall, thin, woman looking at him. The black haired woman was dressed in chain mail armor, with a helmet tucked under her arm. A sword dangled in a scabbard at her hip. She looked to be about nineteen, maybe twenty years old.
The knight scowled at the woman. He didn't like a woman acting like a man and fighting. Fighting was a man's job.
"You like the tomb?" she asked. "It's impressive, even if it is empty."
He opened his mouth the reprimand this peasant woman when a word rang in his mind. "Empty?" he stuttered.
The woman laughed loudly. "Your expression is precious."
"If he isn't buried here where is his body?"
She shrugged. "Right now it's probably in bed, asleep."
"He's alive?"
The girl nodded in agreement. "Alive and well. He even wrote a book."
Reaching into a pouch he produced a small, brown, leather bound book. "Tales of the Northland" was on the cover. "This book?"
Again she nodded. "Look at the dedication if you don't believe me."
He opened the book and turned to the first page. "To the love of my life, Caroline. Without her encouragement this would never have been written. October 707."
William felt foolish. He'd read the book from cover to cover and never noticed the dedication. "Why that," he asked pointing to the tomb, "if he's alive?"
"Better a dead hero than a live freak," the woman explained.
Puzzled, he just looked at her. "What?"
"He's at Metamor Keep," she said.
"Yes," he responded, still confused.
She shook her head. "You've never heard of Metamor?" she asked. "That's the place with the curse."
When he didn't answer her she continued. "You stay long enough and you get changed into an animal. He's a fox."
"How do you know this?" He asked, suspiciously.
"You haven't heard? The news is all over the city," the woman responded. "He's just returned to Marigund." With those words the woman turned and walked away leaving the astonished man to his thoughts.
"Unacceptable!" High priestess Valarie Delminie snapped harshly. "The imprisonment of a soul for any reason is an unpardonable sin and must be punished." The woman was pacing about the room that was the office of the high priest. The trip back to the temple from the Mage's hall had not calmed her down in the slightest.
"For what?" Lady Azaelle asked. "It's clear that the soul container was unrecognized for centuries."
"That is no excuse," the priestess countered in hard tones. "The law is clear. Trafficking or imprisoning a soul is punishable by death."
"So you would see the entire guild put to death?"
She waved her arms about energetically. "Those involved must be punished. And the guild must be punished to show that such behavior will not be tolerated," Delminie expounded. "The Guildmaster must be executed and the guild itself harshly punished. The responsible members jailed or imprisoned."
"The guild will not just let this happen. They will resist," Azaelle responded.
"Many in the guild will support it," she shouted. "They'll understand."
"Most won't," Azaelle answered in a tone as soft and clear as the chime of a bell. "They'll fight."
"And when word spreads that we started this fight over religion whose side do you think the king will take?" Torrey added.
"In Isenport this would have already been resolved," the High priestess said firmly. "We would have dealt decisively and harshly with those responsible."
"But this is Marigund not Isenport," Azaelle commented calmly. "And it is harsh, violent action like that which caused the first Burning. This must be handled carefully. Or it could ignite another Burning."
"The Burning. The Burning! Why are all here so obsessed with that event?" The high priestess snarled as she paced back and forth. "The Burning was the past."
"It could easily be the future," Torrey responded coldly. "If we are not careful."
"When I was twelve," Azaelle said in a pained voice. "I saw my uncle Roland murdered during the Hay Square riots. He died along with twenty other people."
"Last year my brother Philippe was stabbed four times in a confrontation with a gang of Followers," Torrey added.
"The Burning never truly ended," the man said. "It became more subtle."
Delminie looked at the two natives of Marigund in front of her. There was a hard gaze in their eyes and a cold look on their faces that said far more than their words. She let out a slow, deep breath. "I will see the guilty punished. But we must move carefully. For the moment we will watch and wait."
"WATCH OUT!" a voice shouted behind them. "MAKE WAY!"
The students parted instantly and a young, slim spotted cat raced past. The cheetah raced down the hallway weaving around slow moving humans. A large group students loomed up in front of the feline. She tried to stop but her paws slipped on the highly polished floor. With legs flailing Joeline spun about and slammed into the group of people. Humans and cheetah all fell to the floor in a heap leaving one student standing against the wall. His eyes wide with amazement. Thankfully no one seemed to be hurt. Just surprised.
"Joeline!" Gina asked looking at the pile of people. "Are you all right?"
A cheetah's head popped up from the pile and looked around hesitantly. "Wax! Who waxed the floor!"
"What are you doing?" A woman asked staring at the pile of people. "That was a reckless thing to do." She looked at Gina. "The cheetah is yours! What do you have to say about this?"
"Well," Gina said slowly. "If Joeline had put more spin into it she could have taken them all down instead of leaving a spare."
Like any large group the Marigund Mages Guild has many rooms devoted to meetings. Small meetings, large meetings and even secret meetings all could be accommodated. Most were for the Guilds own business but the guild did make considerable profit from renting rooms where complete privacy was assured.
The room was of good size, large enough to hold all the guests but still small enough to be easily guarded and secured against intrusion. In the center of the room was a large table made of a black wood that had been warded to withstand all but the most powerful spells. The entire building could burn to the ground but this table would survive. On it had been carefully placed Salona. The metal saber tooth cat was resting on a blue, silk blanket. Arranged around her were forty chairs all set up in four groups of ten chairs each. Between each group was ten feet of open floor.
The four groups arrived separately and were each shown to their respective seats. Finally when the last had arrived Demarest walked up and stood next to the table that was the centerpiece of the hall and opened his mouth to speak.
"No!" Misha shouted. "Madog! Don't eat that!"
"Yummy."
"No," Misha ordered. "What you eat I have to pay for."
All eyes turned to the voices. Misha, Caroline and Madog were standing by the door. The automaton fox had a large shield on the floor in front of him and was happily taking large bites from it and eating them.
Misha was wearing a doublet and pants both of dark green over a tan, linen shirt. His fur had been brushed and groomed and almost gleamed. His bushy tail had a long, gold chain wound around it in wide loops and was slowly swishing back and forth. A scar ran along the left side of his muzzle and up to where his left ear had once been but was now just a small stump. His nose twitched and his sole remaining ear was in constant motion flicking about.
Caroline was wearing a large voluminous dress of black and gray trimmed with gold thread that flowed all the way to the floor. Peeking out from beneath the back of the dress was her tail which had silver and gold ribbons in it.
Caroline nudged her fiancé with an elbow. Misha looked up and saw all eyes focused on them. The fox scout gave Madog a small nudge with a paw. The metal fox looked up from his meal and slowly scanned the entire room. His eyes saw everything and missed nothing. "Shiver me timbers!" Madog shouted. "Batten down the hatches. There's a storm coming!"
"Good morning," Misha said in a calm tone. "My apologies for being late. I was delayed."
"Silly fox got lost," Madog muttered cheerfully.
"I did not get lost!" Misha snapped and looked down at the metal fox. "I was just showing Caroline around the garden."
"Silly fox walk in circles."
"Thank you for coming Sir Brightleaf, Lady Hardy," Demarest said trying to suppress a smile. "And thank you too Madog. If you'll please take a seat closest to Salona. We'll begin the demonstration."
Caroline and Misha walked down the aisle mindful of all the people looking at them. Madog walked with the remains of the massive shield in his mouth, like a dog with an oversized bone. He carefully placed his metal snack on the floor next to the table and walked over to where Rabbi Arstein was sitting.
"Ahmunlu Ishulim iirula," Madog said to the rabbi.
Arstein was surprised and it took a moment for him to return the greeting. He put his left hand to his right breast and bowed his head. "Iuriltoli."
Madog nodded his head once then turned back to the table where he resumed nibbling on the shield.
"That's a southern tongue!" Lady Delminie said in a shocked tone.
The rabbi looked shocked. "I've not heard it spoken since I was a child. How does he know it?"
Caroline gave Madog a pat on the head. "Madog knows many languages."
"How many does he know?" someone asked.
Misha shrugged. "I'm not certain but I've heard him speak fifteen. At least that I've recognized."
"Fifteen?" the rabbi asked, surprised.
"He's had over a thousand years to learn," Misha commented.
"I wonder how much of history he's witnessed over the centuries?" The Follower priest asked calmly.
Misha shrugged. "I've no clue but occasionally he mentions events scattered through history. Madog claims to have met several emperors and to have been there when the Suielman empire conquered Metamor Valley."
"Is he telling the truth?"
"Of course," Caroline replied. "He always tells the truth. It's just how he tells it that confuses things."
"Is it true he sees the future?" The rabbi asked.
The fox shrugged again. "I'm not sure. I think he sees bits and pieces. He has a tendency to mix past present and future all in one sentence. Especially when he doesn't really want to be too clear."
"What do you mean when he doesn't want to be too clear?" Priestess Delminie asked.
"The future is to be experienced firsthand!" Madog said slowly. "Not described."
"That's profound," Harson said, surprised. "We must all explore our own future and not let a prophet decide it for us."
"Surprised?" Misha said.
"Yes," Harson shot back. "That's very profound for a mere fox's spirit."
The rabbi laughed. "That's profound for anyone." He turned and looked at Madog. "You are full of much wisdom little one."
"Madog is not a mere anything," Misha said. "He has hidden depths to him we'll probably never know."
"Indeed it seems he does," priestess Delminie said. The woman was watching the automaton intently.
"Everyone has hidden depths," Caroline said.
"We are ready for the demonstration," Carlisle said. "Joeline will be the one controlling the automaton."
"Why the young girl?" the cardinal asked. "Must someone so young do this?"
There was a pained expression on Carlisle's face. "The body is attuned to the feminine gender and she was best able to control it."
"You have women on your staff," was the sharp comment from someone.
"We have already attempted it with nine other members of the staff," Carlisle said coldly. "And I was the first."
"And I was the second," Idette said in an angry tone. "We did not use her lightly."
"What happened to the others?" Harson asked. "Were they hurt?"
"No," Carlisle explained. "Of the nine staff who tried. Six were transformed into an extinct species and the other three partly changed."
"What did you learn from that?" Marchel asked.
"We discovered three new species of long extinct predators," Carlisle answered. "Including a canine, a feline, a hyena the size of a war horse and one that we cannot fully classify yet."
"Is it true you spent a full day as a sabertooth?" Delminie asked with an amused look on her face.
"Yes it is!" the man admitted. "It was an interesting experience."
"None were seriously hurt?" Arstein asked. "That's surprising."
"It is!" Demarest commented. "It is the only reason I allowed them to use someone so young."
"I volunteered," Joeline said proudly.
"The wards on Salona are sophisticated and very powerful," Carlisle commented. "At all times we took a slow, patient and gentle approach."
"Had they attempted to force their way past the wards or the wrong people tried it would have been far more deadly," Misha commented.
"We now understand why Joeline was able to use the body and why she can do it safely," Carlisle explained. "We've taken measures to be sure she is not hurt."
"Still using one so young is troubling," the head priestess said.
"It is common," Demarest said calmly. "For children to begin working as young as six and seven often for hard and grueling labor. What Joeline is doing is neither hard, grueling nor dangerous."
The Lightbringer priestess scowled. "I am all too well aware of such abuses and it will stop."
"I'm not a little girl!" Joeline shouted.
"No you're not," Caroline countered calmly. "But you're not an adult yet either. Don't be in a rush to grow up."
Joeline didn't answer but lay down on the floor next to the unmoving metal feline. After several moment the young woman closed her eyes and lay still.
The metal sabercat sprang to life and lifted its head so suddenly that everyone jumped back a little in surprise. Salona stood up and leapt off the table with an ease and grace that was surprising for something that large. She walked around the table with the slow measured suppleness that only a cat could do properly. Each limb moving, showed muscles rippling under the skin. For a moment Marchel forgot he was looking at a creature of metal and thought it was just an oddly colored feline. She walked over to a stone block about two feet wide. Almost casually the cat sank its long saber like teeth into the block and bite off a large chuck. She stood there a moment chewing the rock like it was a haunch of meat.
The priestess folded her hands into her lap. "An impressive display. You have a powerful item there. What of the soul meant to control it? Where is the container holding it?"
"The proper name is Culua," Misha said calmly.
"The guild has located it in the most secure vault the guild has," the Guild master answered. "It was unidentified until only recently."
"Why does the Guild have such an item?" The cardinal asked in harsh tones."The trafficking in captured souls is still punishable by burning at the stake."
"I know what the punishment is," Carlisle snapped. "You keep telling us. By my count this is the third time."
"Fourth," Madog muttered between bites.
Marchel opened his mouth but Demarest spoke first. "The guild has been appointed by the king as caretaker of all problems and troubles involving magic in Marigund. That includes items of power which are deemed dangerous or unknown. Item 337 was both until identified by Idette some days ago."
"And we informed all the religious institutions promptly," Idette added.
Father Marchel nodded. "That is true. But it makes me wonder what other dangerous items are laying about unrecognized."
Idette laughed. "The guild wonders about that too. It's why the vault was created; to store dangerous items."
"I believe that no deliberate deception was done by the Guild," Harson said suddenly. "They have the unenviable task of dealing with whatever dangerous items the king cannot deal with."
The cardinal slowly nodded his head in agreement. "It is a difficult task."
"A search must be made of the Vault," the Lightbringer priestess ordered.
"Agreed," came the rabbi's addition.
"I have instituted a complete inventory of the vault but that will take considerable time," Demarest intoned. "It will not be an easy task. You are not talking of searching a closet full of forgotten clothing. The items in the Vault are very dangerous. People died merely getting certain items into the vault."
"Remember what uncle Happy says kids," Madog said suddenly. "A locked door is that way for a good reason."
They all looked at the metal fox who was sitting in a chair near Salona.
The cardinal scowled. "You couched him in that Misha?"
"No," Misha answered. "Madog says whatever he wants. But it is sound advice. The items in the vault are there for a very good reason."
"Understood but it still must be done," Bishop Harson intoned.
"It will be done. Carefully and slowly," Demarest replied. "And all of you will be kept informed."
"What of the soul in that container? What's to be done with it?" the Rebuilder pastor asked. "Should the guild be allowed to restore it to this metal body?"
"No. A soul should never be separated from its original physical body," the cardinal intoned. "And automatons are a violation of that. It should be allowed to go to its final judgment."
"This soul was separated over a thousand years ago," Carlisle countered
The cardinal shook his head. "Never the less it WAS separated. To perpetuate a crime is to partake in it."
"This soul has been in an automaton body far longer than it was in a flesh and blood one," Idette commented. "It might prefer being there."
"Is it not true that the emperor Creserius declared all Automata an abomination and all known examples destroyed?" Marchel said.
Idette shook her head and waved her hands. "That is not relevant. He also declared all Aelves as such. And ten years later he declared all house cats as abominations."
There was a long moment of silence and all eyes turned to the woman. Even the metal feline cocked its head to one side and looked at Idette.
"House cats?" Carlisle asked softly.
"He was," Marchal said and paused. "Allergic."
"That does not matter. Automata uses souls ripped from their true bodies and trapped in these metal abominations," the Rabbi said and pointed to the metal sabercat. "We cannot allow the soul to be put back in that metal body."
"And what would you do with it?" Idette asked. "Would you just destroy the culua?"
"Yes," was the cleric's blunt
answer. "And free the soul to go to its final rewards."
"Who are you to decide what to do? It's not your body or your soul, " Joeline said, speaking through the metal felines mouth.
The cardinal looked at the feline for a moment. "I am a man of the cloth and devoted to God. Souls are what we care for. Flesh and blood mean nothing. They will return to the dust they came from."
"If all that matters is the soul," Demarest said slowly. "Then what does it matter what the body that holds it is like?"
"She was ripped from her natural body and forced into this metal one. That is wrong," the cardinal said harshly.
"We don't know that for a fact," Carlisle countered. "Salona might have volunteered for it."
"Salona?" Father Marchel asked.
"It's her name," the metal feline explained.
"Something must be done with this Culua," Demarest said slowly. "Of that we are all in agreement."
"But what?" Idette asked.
"Why not ask the soul itself? See what it wants to do. After all this is her body," Joeline said, again speaking through the metal cat.
"Bring this thing here," the cardinal ordered in crisp, clear tones as he tapped on the table in front of him. "If we are to decide the fate of this container and the soul inside we must see it and feel it ourselves."
The other clerics in the room nodded in agreement. The first time all four groups had agreed on anything in a long time.
"Agreed," the Guild master answered. "I'll send a group immediately. A heavily armed group."
"Father Marchel will go with you," the cardinal announced.
"The location of the vault is the Guild's greatest secret," Demarest said. "Even full guild members are not allowed there."
"I trust father Marchel implicitly," was the cardinals response. "But I do understand that certain things are best kept secret. He will escort you to and from the vault but remain outside. He will examine the item to see if it's safe to be moved into the city. I have experienced some of the things irresponsible mages have collected and I will not risk any innocent lives."
Demarest bowed deeply. "So have we and it is why there is such a place as the Vault. Carlisle will go as well since he is the most experienced in automata we have."
"A representative of all the faiths will go," the rabbi ordered. "One from each group."
"An excellent idea," the high priestess agreed.
"Joeline will go too," Carlisle said speaking slowly. "She has had experience controlling the body. Perhaps it will give us an edge with the Culua."
"Any idea what the soul in the Culua is like?" Marchel asked.
Carlisle shrugged. "Of that we know nothing. Though we have been endeavoring to find out more. The person who scattered her parts left no records."
"Where did you get all these parts from?" the Follower priest asked.
"From all over the city," Carlisle answered. "Literally."
"Including one of my churches," Harson added.
"One from a Predecessor synagogue, others from a Rebuilder church, a Follower church and a Lightbringer Temple," Idette added.
"One from each?" The Lightbringer priestess asked. "There's a morality lesson in that."
"Indeed," the Rebuilder agreed.
Next Morning, before dawn
The group that gathered near one of the larger gates of the Guild hall was surprisingly small. Just Demarest, Carlisle, Joeline and three clerics including Father Marchal.
"Sir Brightleaf is not coming?" Father Marchel asked. The father was dressed for the road and his horse was waiting patiently next to him.
"Misha is occupied with personal issues," Carlisle explained. "And he is not allowed into the vault." The mage was wearing a good, wool cloak over a simple pants and tunic. Tough and sturdy traveling clothes. In one hand was a bow as tall as he was and on his back was a quiver full of arrows.
"It's only a short trip," Demarest said. "We should reach the forest before nightfall."
"How long will it take to retrieve the item?" Marchel asked. The priest had the sense to not mention the culua by name.
"About a day," was the guild masters response. "The security must be dealt with cautiously."
Madog walked around the Guild master with an odd stiff legged gate. "Hi ho! Hi ho!" Madog sang cheerfully. "It's off to work we go!"
"Is he coming?" Torry asked pointing to the metal fox.
"Evidently yes," Carlisle answered.
"Is that a wise thing to allow?" Marchel asked.
"No," Carlisle answered. "But who's going to stop him?"
A woman walked up to the group who Marchel recognized as the Lightbringer priestess Azaelle Ferame. She had her hair tied tightly behind and the heavy cloak and plain, wool dress she was wearing told the priest that this woman would be their traveling companion.
"Lady Ferame," Guild master Demarest said as he walked up to the two new arrivals. "Thank you for coming."
The priestess smiled and then pointed to her companion. "I will be accompanying you today at Lady Delminie's behest."
The guild master pointed to a middle aged woman wearing a simple, tan dress. Her hair was cut short and did not contain the usual ribbons that most women in Marigund usually wore. "This is Mother Cassandra, she is here on father Harson's behalf."
The Rebuilder priestess gave a curtsy to the Lightbringer. "Welcome Lady Ferame."
Azaelle smiled and curtsied in reply. "Thank you. I'm pleased to meet you."
Standing next to Cassandra was an man wearing the black and white clothing of a Predecessor priest. Demarest pointed to the rabbi. "And this is Andrew Glinder who represents rabbi Arstein."
"Now that we're all here we can start," Demarest said. "We've a difficult journey ahead of us. I must emphasize that we must all keep our silence about this. Speak to no one and try to act normally to avoid attracting attention."
Thankfully the city was still asleep at this hour and the group's journey through town was quiet and quick. Once clear of the city the small party was quickly joined by an unexpected guest. A black spider the size of a wolf scuttled from a grove of trees and joined the group. Azaelle stepped out and patted the creature on the head.
"My apologies," the priestess said in way of explanation. "But I thought it best to bring along some extra protection. This is Thadius. My families trained, watch spider."
"Extra protection is always welcome," Demarest said and smiled.
Thankfully the journey to the forest was short. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when the Forest of Tol Doron loomed up ahead. The morning birds were happily chirping away as the group reached the end of the road. In front of them was a tall pillar of grayish brown stone. As they got closer he could see that the stone was covered with symbols and writing so weathered and worn down by time as to be unrecognizable. Cassandra recognized it as being an old Centli ritual place. Such standing stones were common in some areas.
Behind the pillar the forest loomed suddenly. Tall, old trees towered over everything, their broad leaf covered branches put the world beneath into a permanent gloom. Demarest pulled his horse to a halt suddenly. He wheeled and faced the group. "We are now in Tol Doron. Do not stray from the group and do not attack anything you see. We are guests here so mind your manners."
"Are the woods filled with these Dolmen?" Cassandra asked pointing to the stone monument.
"They are common," Carlisle answered. "The Centli honored these woods long before the empire did. You've never been here before?"
The Rebuilder priestess shook her head. "No. We've only recently arrived in Marigund and never had the chance."
"What do you know of this place? The automaton mage asked.
"An old place, a small forest located entirely in Marigund," the woman answered. "Possibly the center of a magical locus. Best known as home of the Doron wolf. Legend has it that a great forest once covered all of the Midlands in the distant past. Now all that is left is Elderwood, Aelfwood, Herstel Forest and Tol Doron."
The mage smiled. "I'm impressed, most visitors don't know even that much."
The woman blushed. "Thank you but my family have been mages for centuries before coming to Marigund two years ago."
"I see," the mage answered. She did not need to explain that her family had fled to Marigund to avoid being killed.
There was a quietness about the forest that muffled all sounds and dampened all conversation. Leaves crunched loudly under each footstep. Echoing all the louder because of the silence from all else around them. She realized they were in an old place, somewhere that had seen the millenia roll by unchanged.
"I can feel a presence here," the woman said slowly as she looked up at the trees that surrounded them. "This is not an Aelf place but it feels as old as them."
"That which reside here is fairly benign so long as you respect the forest and its boundaries," Demarest answered without really explaining anything.
"Are these woods always this gloomy?" Cassandra asked trying to drive away the oppressive atmosphere.
"Not this gloomy," the Guild master replied. "But the woods are not happy about our being here.."
"Why is that?" The Rebuilder asked.
"It's the place we are going," Carlisle answered without actually naming the vault. "They do not like it being here."
"I can understand that," the woman responded. "But it must be somewhere."
"The forest understands that as well but it's still not happy with it being here," Demarest explained.
"I'm not happy with it being anywhere!" Azaelle commented.
"I'm curious," Marchal asked. "Why here? Why not in the city on Guild property there? Where it can be watched over more easily."
"Do you really want all the most deadly pieces of magic in the Midlands concentrated in a city of over ten thousand people?" Demarest said calmly.
"Excellent point," the rabbi said. "But placing it so far from the city almost feels like we are dumping our problems onto someone else."
"Perhaps it is," Carlisle commented. "But there is no simple answer to the problem. These items must be stored somewhere."
The guild master suddenly stopped cutting off any further conversation.
In front of them was another pillar of grayish brown stone that looked to be the twin of the one they seen upon first entering the forest. Resting on the ground next to it was another stone that looked to be a duplicate of the first. This one covered with earth, grass and leaves telling of it having rested there for many years.
Guild Master Demarest walked up to the standing stone and spoke in a low tone as he touched the pillar in a complex series of gestures. The stone laying on the ground slowly started to shift and shake. After a moment one end rose silently off the ground revealing a deep, black hole.
"Let me be perfectly clear on this," Demarest said in a cold hard voice. "Touch absolutely nothing without my explicit permission."
Thadius stopped at the opening and stood there chittering loudly.
"Smart bug not go into the hole!" Madog said cheerfully.
The guild Master smiled. "He's smarter than the rest of us. He can stay here," Demarest offered. "So long as Thadius stays within thirty feet of Dolmen he'll be safe." The guild master turned and walked down into the darkness. The rest of the group followed.
Cassandra found herself standing at the top of a flight of stairs that disappeared down into the darkness. She stood there for a moment before cautiously continuing. She found herself in a cold and damp stairway lined completely with stone.
The group traveled downward for many minutes with each step echoing loudly in the dark confines of the stairway. The steps ended in a small level area in front of a stone lined doorway. They filed through the opening and into the room beyond.
In front of them floating in the air in front of them was a single sword. It was a common looking blade devoid of decorations other than a faint up sweep to the tips of the hilt. Its point was aimed toward the group and it was floating three feet off the floor. There was nothing else in the room. Even the walls were of bare stone and devoid of decorations of any sort.
Demarest walked past the floating weapon without giving it a second glance. In moments he was though the doorway on the opposite side of the room. The group quietly filed past the blade keeping a good distance away. The weapons silently rotated to keep it's point aimed at them.
The new room they were in had walls and floor covered in art. Everywhere she looked Cassandra saw finely made mosaics and murals done in bright, bold colors. She didn't recognize the style of clothing the painted figures were wearing but all looked to be from ages past. She spotted the figure of an elven woman wearing only a skirt, the figures bare breasts were covered with flowing decorations in dark blue. In one hand the elven woman held a bow. The other hand was reaching for the quiver that hung from her hip.
"Be careful of the floor," Demarest warned. "Step only on the floor stones that I step on." With that the mage started walking across the floor, placing each foot carefully.
Cassandra looked back at the even archer and the figure had changed! She was still holding a bow in one hand but now the other which had been empty now held an arrow. The woman tried to ignore the painted figures and paid attention to exactly where the Guild master was walking.
Another look at the figure showed that the painted elf now had the arrow to her bowstring and seemed to be caught in the act of drawing it back. The woman wasted no time and quickly crossed to the other side of room being sure to step only on the correct stones.
Cassandra paused at the door a moment and looked back at the archer. The figure was back to the way she had been when the woman had first seen her. She turned around and found herself standing in front a stone wall. Looking at it Cassandra couldn't see any trace of joint lines and it seemed to be just a single massive block of stone.
Demarest walked up to the wall and touched it in three places. Then he quickly moved backwards several steps.
At first nothing happened but then a faint crack appeared in the wall down where it met the floor. Quickly the crack ran up the wall, then across and back down to the floor again forming a rectangle about six feet high. The crack widened into a deep fracture as the stone inside it shifted and started to push outward in the shape of the door it obviously was. The massive door started to swing open, moving with a slow ponderousness that was matched by the total silence. Its movement revealed a surprisingly small chamber beyond lit by a bright, white light. There seated in the middle of the room was Madog. "You late!"