"Please. I just want to talk to you," Myranda said.

Something had apparently caught Ether's attention, as she scurried to one of the blackened stains on the floor.

"You probably haven't eaten in days," Myranda said, pulling some of the meager and practically frozen provisions from her bag.

"Go away. Go . . . you have food?" she asked, venturing a peek from her hiding spot.

"It isn't much, but . . . " Myranda began. Before she could finish, the creature had sprinted out and s.n.a.t.c.hed the piece of salted meat from her hands.

She turned it and sniffed it, tentatively sampling it with her tongue. Suddenly she tore it to pieces with her sharp teeth, sloppily speaking as she wolfed it down.

"This isn't (gulp) food. This is much better. Food is nasty wet stuff. It comes in a bowl and it has no taste. Also, there is (gulp) never this much of it," she said, making short work of the meat.

When she was through she stared longingly at the bag the food came from.

"Do you want more?" Myranda asked.

"N . . . Yes?" she attempted, nervous of reprisal.

"Here," Myranda said, offering another piece.

Without a word she s.n.a.t.c.hed it away and swallowed it down. Myranda offered her canteen, which was emptied in an equally desperate manner. When the creature was through she sighed and smiled, licking her lips and sitting down on the ground.

"I like you. You are much better than the teachers," she said.

"I like you too. Now, can you tell me your name? What did the teachers call you?" Myranda asked, joining her on the ground.

"They called me very bad things. Things I don't want to say. There was a tag that they made me wear. What did it say? I . . . V . . . Ivy?" she said uncertainly.

"Well, Ivy, my name is Myranda," Myranda said.

"Myranda . . . " Ivy repeated thoughtfully. "I think they talked about you."

"The teachers?" Myranda asked.

"Yes. I don't remember, though. I hardly remember anything they teach me. That's why they're so mad all of the time," she said, shuddering.

"What is this place? How long have you been here?" Myranda asked.

"I don't know. I have been here forever, though. Longer than I can remember," she said.

"What did they do here?" Myranda asked.

"They kept me behind those bars and tried to teach me things. All sorts of things. They tried to teach me about places, and people, and things like that. And they tried to teach me how to fight. They did that a lot. I didn't want to. Then they brought in this man. He had a glowing stick like yours, only pointier, and he would put his hand on my head and make me know things," she said, shuddering again.

Dark memories of the soul searing time she spent with Epidime flickered in Myranda's mind. In her simple way, Ivy may have been describing his torturous ability to manipulate the mind.

"This man, the one who forced thoughts into your head, what did he look like?" Myranda asked.

"He looked like a man. I don't know. He was big. I don't want to think about it," she said, shaking her head as if she could shake his image out of it.

"Ivy, what about the staff? What did it look like?" Myranda asked. "It is very important."

"It was . . . it was . . . a two handed, casting type, hook-and-spike pole-ax, a style of halberd, best suited for battle mages and paladins," she said definitively, as though the words had been read from a text.

Myranda was surprised by the precise answer, and it showed on her face.

"Well, I didn't forget everything they taught me," Ivy explained.

"That man. Did you hear the name Epidime when he was about?" Myranda asked.

"Yes, but not just that. It was always General Epidime. There were other Generals I think . . . one was named Teht," she said.

Myranda remembered it as one of the names that Desmeres had mentioned.

"What did she look like?" Myranda asked.

"That," she said, pointing.

Myranda turned swiftly, staff held defensively. There was no need. The form she indicated was slumped in the far corner of the room. She, for all outward appearance, was human, but the thick black liquid that should have been blood betrayed her true nature. Myranda had heard of nearmen who were different. This must have been an old one. Whatever had killed her had been ma.s.sive. She had more injuries than could be counted, though from the looks of it they all came from the collision with the wall and single blow that had hurled her into it.

"I should be sad that she's dead. I'm not. She was horrible. They all were. I'm glad I can't remember half of what they did to me. I'm glad the monster came," she said.

"The monster. Tell me about the monster. What did this?" Myranda asked.

"I don't know. I didn't see. They were teaching me something and yelling at me and then there was this shaking and this light. After that all I remember is screaming. I was screaming, they were screaming. And there was the light. Terrible light," Ivy replied, trembling.

"I have heard enough of this. Human, kill the beast," Ether ordered.

"What? No!" Myranda said.

Ivy was startled by the out of place voice and ran behind Myranda for protection.

"Do not disobey me, human. Do as you are told," the tiny creature warned sternly.

"I will not kill her!" Myranda declared.

"Human, if I am to tolerate your presence by my side during this quest then I expect nothing short of blind obedience. Now do as I say!" the shape shifter fumed.

"I will not kill her and neither will you!" Myranda said.

"I have no intention of killing her. I have ordered you to do so," Ether said.

"No. If this was truly important then you certainly wouldn't trust me to do it. What is this? A test of loyalty?" Myranda asked.

"Open your eyes. This place reeks of the D'karon. Their tainted influence permeates the air. That thing that you are shielding is no different. We are surrounded by death and destruction, yet that beast is unharmed. She speaks some absurd tale of a monster that rendered a fort and all those within to rubble, and yet spared her. It is a trick, a ploy, and you have been fooled by it. There is a stain on the floor there. It is Lain's blood. Months old. End that menace before it is too late. I will not touch that thing. You believe that you have a place in this prophesy? Well, this is it. Bring a moment of meaning into your useless and wasted life. Perform one valuable act before your frail, impermanent body succ.u.mbs to the ravages of time and the elements," the shape shifter raged.

As the creature continued, her words were ever more hateful and venomous. Myranda weathered them as she had a dozen times before. Myn was not so patient. She had learned the language well, and was quite aware of the vicious tone. She would not hear such words aimed at her companion. Before Myranda could stop her, Myn puffed up her chest and blasted a column of flames at the tiny form.

"Myn, what have you done?!" Myranda cried. A fear that had been growing in the pit of her stomach as the argument had progressed suddenly surged. Behind her the trembling malthrope whimpered, crouched into a ball and hugging her knees.

The flames lingered for a few moments before intensifying and taking a familiar form. The shape shifter had recovered enough to make use of them, it would seem. A few moments later her human form stood before them.

"Even in anger your beast proves more useful than you," she said. "Now, kill the whimpering animal behind you or I will kill you."

"Tell me why!" Myranda demanded, standing firm despite the fear that grew inexplicably stronger inside of her.

She cast a glance at Myn, who had stepped forward to defend her friend only to droop her head and slink backward again. Myranda hadn't seen the creature show such fear since that day in the cave when the water caught up with them.

"If I were to do her harm, I would be chastised for it," she said.

"You certainly would!" Myranda agreed.

"Not by you. What possible repentance could something as frail as you force upon me? I would be chastised by the only beings capable of such a feat. The G.o.ds themselves," she stated.

"How?" Myranda asked.

"The mark! Why do you suppose we who are Chosen must bear it? The mark is a link to our divine origins. It is intended to ensure loyalty by punishing any act that shows allegiance to the enemy. The burning of the mark purifies the body and soul of misdeed. There are some misdeeds too great to survive. Murder of another Chosen is foremost among them," Ether said.

"That is the purpose of the mark?" Myranda said.

"Of course it is. I suppose you thought it little more than a label to indicate one's status. If a Chosen One's superiority is not immediately apparent then he or she is hardly deserving of the distinction," she said.

"Well then why would you be punished for hurting Ivy? Unless . . . ," Myranda realized, turning swiftly to the slowly calming creature. "Ivy, have you a mark, anywhere on your body, that looks like this?"

Myranda showed her left palm. The creature looked at it through teary eyes and tugged the neck of her ragged shirt. There, just over her heart, was the mark. The fur was black instead of white. It was clearly present since birth.

"She is a Chosen! She is a Chosen and you wanted me to kill her!" Myranda screamed. "Why!?"

"She is clearly a ploy of the enemy. If we allow her to join us it will mean our end," Ether stated simply.

"How could she be a ploy? You said it yourself! If she were loyal to the enemy the mark would have destroyed her," Myranda said.

"The penitence is meted out by the soul. A being as naive or foolish as she may just be ignorant of its own treachery until the moment he or she takes specific action against a truly pure warrior," Ether said.

"Even if that were true, why would you kill her? She is still Chosen, and there are precious few left!" Myranda said.

"Foolish child. The Great Convergence has yet to occur," Ether said.

"And it never will if you destroy every Chosen you find," Myranda retorted.

"Do you know nothing of the quest you hope to a.s.sist in? Until the Great Convergence occurs there may arise as many Chosen warriors as the G.o.ds deign fit. A fallen Chosen may be replaced until five of them unite and turn to the cause. It is thus our duty and obligation to rid this world of the Chosen who have strayed from the pure path, lest they gather and keep the truly virtuous from their place. Now strike that beast down!"

"No! There is no reason to. She is coming with us!" Myranda declared.

"I can come with you!?" Ivy cried, jumping up, a look of pleading hope on her face.

"She cannot!" Ether demanded.

"Of course you can!" Myranda contradicted at the same time.

Ether grasped Myranda by the neck of her cloak and shifted to stone, lifting the girl effortlessly into the air.

"I could easily kill you and leave that thing here to die," she stated.

Myranda coughed and struggled in the unbreakable grip.

"Hey! Put her down!" Ivy objected, a flash of anger in her eyes.

Myn, suddenly recovered from her bout of fear, leapt out and clamped down onto the stone arm casually raised as a defense.

"You are tolerated only so long as your benefits outweigh your liabilities. I will not allow you to endanger my purpose," Ether said. Her voice was as steady and emotionless as ever. She seemed not to be threatening or warning Myranda, but informing her.

Myn shook her head violently. Her teeth sc.r.a.ped, cracked, and finally crumbled the stone of Ether's arm. The shape shifter's hand dropped to the ground and shattered. Slowly she turned to see the damage, dropping Myranda suddenly to the ground. She and her fallen appendage shifted to wind, rejoined, and with visible effort returned to her human form.

"However, until I am able to secure a more sizable surplus of strength, I shall allow you to remain by my side, provided that you can ensure me that the animal you insist upon shepherding can control itself," Ether allowed.

"Myn will behave," Myranda said, climbing to her feet.

"I was referring to the newest beast in your menagerie," Ether corrected.

"Is she talking about me?" Ivy asked.

"I believe so," Myranda replied.

"She's mean," Ivy pouted.

"You will have no arguments from me," Myranda agreed. "Now, if you are to join us, you will need something warmer than the rags you are wearing now. Did they keep any extra clothes for you here?"

Ivy shrugged. Myranda thought for a moment, reluctantly pulling what she knew of Epidime's fort to mind. During her escape she had come upon one or two storerooms that she had briefly considered as hiding places. Perhaps similar ones could be found here. Ivy must have been wearing something when she was brought to this place. Myranda led the way up the stairs, with Myn and Ivy scampering with eager enthusiasm alongside her. Ether followed, conjuring an extra layer of clothing to ward off the cold that this form seemed so weak against. Doing so required a measure less effort than altering away the weakness. She briefly considered having Myranda tell the dragon to blast her with flame a few more times so that she could be off and done with the foolish girl, but the human would see it as a request for aid, and the thought of such an inferior creature feeling as though she had been able to help her was distasteful enough that she would rather await a more independent method to recover.

Ivy looked with interest at the other floors, inspecting bars and cells as though she had never seen them. Myranda found the first storeroom. There were weapons and armor for the nearmen. Ivy rushed in, excited by the new things inside. Shortly after, she came running out with a club that looked as though it should be a bit too heavy for her. She managed to carry it with little difficulty.

"Can I bring this?" Ivy asked.

Myranda could feel the stern gaze of Ether without looking. If this newcomer was a danger to them, it was best not to allow her to be armed. At the same time, if she was to be of any help, she would need to be able to fight, and thus she would need a weapon. Myranda looked over the club. Such a brutish weapon looked out of place in Ivy's hand. It was perhaps the size of her leg and striped with iron bands and blunt iron studs. It was a cruel weapon, and the newest Chosen held it as though it were a plaything. Myranda pushed the thought that this innocent creature might be something to fear out of her mind.

"If you are careful with it," Myranda decided, pausing for a moment as she realized how motherly she sounded.

"Thank you!" Ivy gushed in a sing-song tone as she hurried off to inspect more of her surroundings.

They were making their way slowly through the more battle-scarred floors now. In truth, though, it was only Myranda that was moving slowly. Ivy was navigating the debris with a dancer's grace even with the heavy club in her hand, and Myn was right at home among the rubble. Ether squandered a bit of her freshly regained strength in order to whisk immediately to the surface in the form of wind. Near to the surface Myranda found the caved in remnant of a second storeroom. It had at least a few things that had some use, and was most certainly where the possessions of those imprisoned were kept. Most of what was found within was unusable, but Myranda was able to salvage a second canteen and bag, and a hodgepodge of clothing. An overlarge, heavy wool shirt and a pair of leggings that were fairly close to her size, the former dingy white and the latter gray, supplemented her rags. One of the ubiquitous gray cloaks, also quite oversized, was the final touch. When all was said and done, the outfit seemed to suit Ivy. The saggy clothes and sleeves that hung past her hands were a complement to her childlike demeanor.

One floor above was the wind whipped field. Myranda cast one look at the wind and snow and was suddenly reminded that she'd had too little sleep and too much exercise that day. The thought of spending the night in the frozen ground was hardly an inviting one. She decided that it was best to spend a few hours resting in what little shelter the ruined fort offered. Shards of broken support beams were gathered together to start a fire, which Ether immediately took advantage of. The sight of a dragon starting a fire and a woman turning to flame and stepping into it had managed to become commonplace for Myranda, but Ivy marveled at it.

"Does the dragon belong to you?" Ivy asked.

"In a way, we belong to each other. She is more of a friend than a possession," Myranda said, eating the last of her meal that was a bit smaller than it should have been, thanks to her generosity earlier.