Eined peered around, trying to discern the invisible helper, with no luck. "It's perfectly natural. Where we're from, they're common aides." "Where you're from… where is that?" asked Eined. "I've noticed how pale you both seem. And the streaks that run through your skin." "Our home is far from here," broke in Iahn. "Now, let's enter and find what we came for." Eined nodded and dropped the subject.

Ususi released the orb to orbit her brow, and a bright light broke from it. Following the wizard, Eined and Iahn entered the tunnel mouth.

"What's wrong, Grandson?" asked Shaddon. "Are you not happy to see the excellent fashion in which your grandfather has preserved himself against time's insult?"

The living flesh of the elder Datharathi, if any remained, was lost in glittering, glassy facets. His face was a crystalline mask, but beneath it, veins pulsed with blood, raw muscle moved, and bone gleamed. One eye socket was replaced completely with a crystal orb, but the other remained real-a watery blue orb that rolled and fluttered as if caught in a trap. The man was clothed head to toe in ornate golden robes complete with a stiff collar, cape, and silken gauntlets, so Warian was unable to determine the extent of Shaddon's self-transformation. Warian feared the worst.

"I'm… glad to see you again after so long, Grandfather," he finally managed. Warian unconsciously tried to catch the porter's eye-had Uncle Zel known the extent of Shaddon's transformation? The consummate professional, Zel didn't react to Warian's glance. Instead, he moved to one side as if looking for a place to set down the baggage.

Shaddon grinned. Somehow, the crystal of his face was able to flow and move almost like real flesh. Seeing the naked sinew beneath the mask made the expression too much like a skull's rictus for Warian's comfort. He partially averted his gaze.

"And it is good to see you, too, Warian. Very, very good indeed."

If possible, his grandfather's grin seemed to stretch wider. Warian's earlier concern that Shaddon might harbor the same taint as the other plangents returned and perched on his heart.

"Because you miss your grandchildren?"

"Certainly, always. But also because of what you represent, Warian. You're the first, you know. Your arm is what led to all this."

Warian's grandfather gestured to his own face and toward Sevaera, who stood nearby.

"I'm here because I've been having trouble with it. It is malfunctioning of late, and I'd like to learn to control it."

Shaddon nodded. "Yes, I've heard. Let me take a look," he commanded, approaching Warian.

"You've heard? But we've only just arrived."

"You don't think my communication with Datharathi Minerals is limited to the speed of an airship, do you? Of course not. I have my ways. Now, let me see your arm."

Warian held out his prosthesis, palm upward. His grandfather reached out with his gloved hands and ran them along the crystal.

"Interesting," said his grandfather in a distracted manner. "You may not know it, Warian, but your prosthesis is cut from a portion of the lode not connected with the pure vein we found recently. It is not part of the crystal node that has brought the family so much wealth and influence."

"I saw the new mine-and some sort of magical portal. Where in the name of the four dooms does that thing lead?" Warian imagined some sort of fiery hellscape, the typical destination of such ancient gates, according to popular tales and tavern songs.

Shaddon chuckled. "Time enough for full explanations later. Let's see…" Shaddon gazed intently at Warian's prosthesis. Shaddon's crystal eye glowed, hinting at some sort of magical analysis beyond Warian's ken.

"What's the verdict?" asked Warian.

"Impossible to say for sure," said Shaddon, releasing Warian's arm. "One thing is certain. Your arm is not part of the new crystalworks. That may be why you're losing control over it, as you say-though I suspect there's more to it than that."

Warian shrugged.

"In any event, if I'm to reach a definite conclusion, I'll have to remove it."

Warian's jaw dropped. "Remove… no. Out of the question."

Shaddon laughed. "Your error is your belief that you have any option other than what I want. The arm will come off. By Pandorym's voice, you will…"

The porter brained Shaddon with an iron bar he'd apparently pilfered from a workbench in the neighboring chamber.

The light in Shaddon's crystal eye winked out, and he dropped heavily to the floor.

"Let's get out of here, kid," the porter said, his voice returning to the timber and Vaelanic accent of his Uncle Zel.

"You'll go nowhere," said Sevaera. She stood in the doorway, blocking their exit. Her voice was oddly deep and throaty-but familiar. All too horribly familiar. Shaddon's voice issued from Sevaera's mouth.

Warian and Zel blinked, stunned. Sevaera yelled, "Aid me, my pets!"

Zel looked around nervously, then advanced toward the exit, the iron bar gripped solidly in his pale hands. He said, his voice slightly shaky, "You saw me strike down dear old Dad. I'll do the same to you, Sis. Get out of my way."

Sevaera said, "Your father is more resilient than you think. Open your ears, fool-who do you think is talking to you?" The voice was unquestionably Shaddon's scratchy tone. Zel merely shook his head, refusing to consider the truth.

A spider the size of a dog dropped onto Zel's back. Zeltaebar uttered an oath and began to beat at his back ineffectually with his pry bar. Sevaera tittered in Shaddon's heavy tones.

Warian turned and knocked the spider away with his prosthesis. The arm was still slow, slower than flesh, but he caught the creature squarely on the torso. As it fell, it snapped overlarge mandibles at Warian. Its mandibles were crystalline, through and through, and glowing with violet malevolence.

"Watch it, Zel. These things are enhanced with crystal!"

Zel whirled and struck at the spider. It caught the iron bar in its mandibles. Zel cursed and tried to pull the tool free. The spider flexed its fangs, and the iron bar began to bend. While the spider was occupied, Warian moved forward and delivered a terrific kick directly to the spider's head. Something crunched, and sticky fluid spurted. A moment later, the spider's legs curled up beneath it and it ceased moving.

Three more spiders dropped from the ceiling. One had crystalline mandibles as large as the first spider's, another had legs of slender violet stalks, and the last spider's spinnerets, protruding obscenely from its posterior, were composed of humming purple crystal.

The three arachnids dropped so they were roughly equidistant from each other, with Warian and Zel penned in at the center of the triangle they formed. Warian couldn't decide-should he trigger his arm, or wait? The weakness that would follow would make him worthless.

"We've got trouble, Nephew," Zel breathed, sizing up the spiders.

"Indeed," said Shaddon's voice.

Warian's grandfather stood up from where he lay, apparently no worse for wear. His voice again emanated from his own throat. Sevaera blinked and shook her head.

"What happened?" she asked.

The spiders held their distance, taut with expectation. Warian supposed they waited for a signal from Shaddon-perhaps a signal as ethereal as desire. His grandfather was demonstrating the danger of taking a prosthesis. He could send more than a signal-he could send his entire consciousness, like a possessing spirit. The evidence was incontrovertible. Except Warian was certain he'd never been possessed by any outside consciousness.

Warian exclaimed, "You can't reach me, can you? That's why you want to remove my arm. I'm outside your control!"

Shaddon laughed, but it was strangely nervous. Both eyes, the flesh and the crystal, darted about as if searching for something, then focused again on Warian. He said, "Something like that. Just as I can command those who are outfitted with my advanced prostheses, I myself am susceptible to influence by a… disagreeable entity I'd rather avoid. Your prosthesis harbors the secret of erecting that barrier. And, by all accounts, it grants you some of the benefits a plangent enjoys."