Failure was obvious, if unsightly. Honor was accorded to those who lived. Apprentices who spoke a true prophecy graduated as vengeance takers and took up their badge of office after swearing fealty to the Lord Apprehender of Deep Imaskar. Nausea stirred, and Iahn's muscles loosened as the cacophony intensified. Then the Voice broke through dissonance into clarity. "More than vengeance tracks the fugitive. An entity foretold…" The message dissolved into inchoate syllables that poured into a river of relief from the damos's venom-induced pain.

Iahn's body was throwing off the lethal effects of the dose. With the return of his senses, the Voice fled. Until next time. Still on one knee, he considered the insight bequeathed him. No doubt Iahn himself was vengeance. It was the title of his rank and profession. Simple. So the fugitive was sought by someone other than himself. Which probably meant the strange marks along the wheel ruts were not the fugitive's doing, but instead were traces left by this "other." Iahn sighed. The damos's messages were always brief and usually truncated. A longer message required a greater dose, and to hear all that might be foretold would be the listener's first sermon of the afterlife, even for a vengeance taker. Iahn straightened. It wouldn't do to lose the fugitive at the last moment. He was accustomed to achieving his goals, no matter the difficulty. He would find Ususi Manaallin and kill any force or creature that stood in his way.

Spring, 1374 DR Darkness. Blowing, howling, damp gloom. Shadows reaching like fingers… grasping. Stretching closer. Screaming… Ususi woke, sitting upright, a cry on her lips. Where, what…? The dream. The same damned dream that pursued her up the years. She focused and slowed her too-rapid breathing. Just three days had passed since the dream last visited, but it had lost none of its immediacy, none of its mystery, and none of its enveloping terror. Calm down, she thought.

It's over-it's done, it can't hurt you. Nothing has changed. It was just a dream. Wasn't it? The excuses were familiar. She and her sister Qari made the same excuses to reassure each other when they were children. When they'd shared the same nightmare. But Qari had never known light-for her, darkness was natural. Her poor sister, already cursed to a sightless existence, had lost all remaining shreds of her reason when their parents died in the accident. After that tragedy, Qari was hidden away from even the enclosed world of Deep Imaskar, sightless and speechless. For all Ususi knew, the same terrible dream replayed through her sister's mind day after day after day, its terror unrelenting. Ususi slammed her fist down on the nightstand. "What are you?" she screamed. "What do you want from me? Leave me alone!" She pushed all thoughts of Qari from her mind. Thinking about her sister was something she did only by accident. The echoes of her yell died to nothing, and the darkness, the natural darkness of the night, pressed close. And yet something about that darkness was unnatural, too. The lantern on the wall beside her bed, a lantern whose wick earlier burned with heatless flame and promised enough light for years, was dead. Beyond its ability to terrify, the dream had the unsettling ability to reach beyond her closed eyelids. She'd awakened from the nightmare on other occasions to discover candle flames, lanterns, torches, and even campfires doused. Not even magical lights escaped being snuffed by her nightmare vision. That allowed her to recognize the dream's malevolence. It was Darkbringer. Lightquencher.

Dreamstalker. Something that craved darkness couldn't be good. She never managed to free herself from the curse of her personal nightmare, or flee far enough from its reach, despite all her abilities and the miles she'd put between herself and the hidden place of her birth. Ususi rose. She was done with sleep for the night. Time for some tea. She set the wick of the doused lantern freshly alight with a word of kindling. The interior of her traveling wagon was small but tidy. Everything was stowed just so. The cunningly designed interior of the coach was a marvel of carpentry, blending wood, metal, and glass, offering a surplus of storage that didn't sacrifice living area. Its elegance and grace was like the cabin of a small yacht designed by a noble who knew the value of precious space, but her coach was a craft that traveled upon land. She folded the bed into the wall, forming a bench, and pulled an inlaid board from its slot, producing a sturdy table. From a cupboard, Ususi gathered the kettle, a crock of loose green tea, a silver spoon, and sugar cubes. The motions of preparation, almost ritualized, calmed her. Soon enough, she'd prepared an aromatic beverage in a delicate fired-clay cup.

Sipping, Ususi thought back to the day she had commissioned the master carpenter of Two Stars to build the traveling wagon. It had been, what… a year ago? A year since she'd decided to give up her decade-long residence in Two Stars. A year since she had parted ways with Marrec and the others. Marrec had his own quest, and she had hers. She'd lived in Two Stars almost since she defied the lord apprehender and slipped past the Great Seal… But that was long ago.

What mattered now was her self-imposed mission of discovery. She would locate and map every site of power of her godlike ancestors, the Imaskari. Years of study had led her to the very first site of her obsession, the Mucklestones. That ancient ring of standing stones was one of the few known portals that connected to the famous Celestial Nadir-famous to Deep Imaskari wizards, anyway. The Celestial Nadir was an artificial demiplane created by the original Imaskari Empire. It could be accessed only from certain locations, and only if one possessed a keystone. All the keystones were thought to be lost. Then, just a short year ago, a surviving keystone was given into her keeping by its former custodian in the Forest of Lethyr. She wasn't sure if the previous guardian knew or understood the keystone's significance, or Ususi's heritage. She'd assumed the Nentyarch of Yeshelmaar had not known. On the other hand, the Nentyarch was a wise elf, and perhaps had understood what the gift meant to Ususi. Certainly no other person could have used the keystone better than she-at least no other person in a position to investigate the Nadir. Ususi set down the cup. She plucked the keystone from its chain around her neck and gazed into its amethyst depths. The keystone was critical to opening the Mucklestones. More than that, it could open any portal created by the Imaskari to gain entry into the Celestial Nadir. With the stone's aid, she might well discover all of the famed twenty gates. Each gate led into the Celestial Nadir, but each gate opened onto a different portion of that primeval space. So far, she had found only a single entry into the Celestial Nadir-the Mucklestones-and she had already plumbed those depths. Nineteen more gates to go. The Mucklestone Gate opened onto great voids of cool darkness. Narrow, unsupported stone roads wound through that void. The paths sometimes connected enigmatic islands of stone, collections of debris, free-floating lakes, and stranger detritus of a vanished time. Most of the paths led to innocuous or crumbled ruins. Unfortunately, her exploration revealed the Mucklestones opened onto an unimportant edge of the Celestial Nadir, far from the core that would shelter important Imaskaran relics. She was certain that other paths, closer to the core of the Celestial Nadir, would lead to secrets of fabulous power. Such as one or more of the fabled Imaskarcana. While walking the paths of the Celestial Nadir connecting to the Mucklestones, she'd found nodes of translucent, purplish crystal. They formed almost like natural geodes within the artificial demiplane; they were manifestations of the Celestial Nadir itself. Her keystone was carved from the very same crystal, which could be found only in the Celestial Nadir. She recalled again her surprise upon seeing raw Celestial Nadir crystal trading across the gem counters in the city of Two Stars. She pulled from her purse a chunk of rough crystal whose hue matched that of the keystone, though unfinished. When she'd seen it in the gem shop in Two Stars, purely by accident, she'd purchased it immediately. According to the shop owner, the gem went by the ungainly name "Datharathi crystal." A small lot of it had come up from the far south, from somewhere in the Durpar region. Her discovery of the fragment was the final impetus she'd required to continue her quest. The fragment was clear evidence that at least one other of the twenty gates, besides the Mucklestones, still operated. Moreover, someone was entering the Celestial Nadir and mining its substance for profit! Celestial Nadir crystal was a natural sediment of the artificial plane her ancestors had created, and could be found nowhere else. But… here was something odd. Both the rough Celestial Nadir crystal and her keystone seemed… murky. Usually, she could see right through the crystal, but tendrils of darkness seemed to cloud the center of both pieces-only very slightly in her keystone, but noticeably in the raw chunk of Celestial Nadir crystal. It reminded her suddenly and uncomfortably of her nightmare. "Bastard dream," she murmured. "You'd better not be responsible, or…" Or what, she didn't know, but her blood was hot with anger. Far better, though, than the fear that sang through her when she'd woken. She was more familiar with emotions of anger and annoyance than fear and uncertainty. But more than anything else, she was tired. Fear and anger both fell away, leaving a dull ache. And truth be told, the creeping warmth on her face and hands galled her. The day before had been a long day of travel, and she'd gotten too much sun. She usually sat on the exterior of the wagon, coach style, driving the horses from beneath a protective sunshade.