She was a monster. She could be irrational and consistently ill-mannered. But she also possessed attributes Sgaile found admirable-fortitude, courage, and an unshakable loyalty to those she cared for. He had once asked her to watch over young Leanalham, and she agreed without hesitation. And two of the ancient races expressed mysterious interest in her.

Sgaile grew weary of thinking.

"What happened," Osha asked, "when you took them before the Chein'as?"

Perhaps Osha had spent too much time with these outsiders. He had many shortcomings that made Sgaile doubt his suitability to be Anmaglahk. It would not serve the young man to sympathize with humans.

"Wynn is safe," Sgaile said. "You served your purpose well."

"Purpose?" Osha blinked, and his gaze wandered toward the aft hatch. "Yes, Sgailsheilleache… a pleasant duty."

Sgaile stiffened.

"There is no pleasant or unpleasant for Anmaglahk," he said coldly. "There is only your purpose to fulfill for your people. If you cannot hold this above all else, you have no place among us."

Osha's jaw dropped slightly, like an ignorant boy regretting an error he did not understand. "Forgive me," he stammered. "I meant no… I live in silence and in shadows. I am Anmaglahk."

Sgaile offered no reassurance. Putting Osha at ease would be no kindness.

"See to our charges," he said. "Bring them supper."

"Yes, Sgailsheilleache."

As Osha walked to the hatch, Sgaile turned to the rail, watching the coastline and dwelling on Magiere. Perhaps he should chastise himself as well.

Most Aged Father rested within the root chamber of his great oak. Alone for a moment, he tried to quiet his restless mind.

Father?

He opened his eyes at Hkuan'duv's voice and placed a hand on the living wood of his bower.

"I am here," he replied, concerned, for Hkuan'duv would need a tree for his word-wood to function. "Where are you?"

I halted the ship to go ashore so we could speak. Hkuan'duv hesitated. I have been in contact with the informant you arranged. Sgailsheilleache's ship anchored for six days, and he took Leshil and the human called Magiere ashore. By the location described, I believe Sgailsheilleache took them to the haven of the Chein'as.

"What?" Most Aged Father tried to sit up.

When they returned, Magiere bore a canvas bundle, which the informant had not seen when they departed. It was of sizeable bulk.

Most Aged Father had been shocked when he first learned that Sgailsheilleache had continued to accompany Leshil. But guardianship was a difficult burden to put aside, especially for one such as Sgailsheilleache, who clearly felt his oath was not yet fulfilled, misplaced as it was.

Father? Hkuan'duv asked. Is there more concerning this purpose… that I should know?

Most Aged Father was troubled. Since leaving Ghoivne Ajhajhe, Sgailsheilleache had made no reports. Now he had made an unscheduled stop near a place no human should ever know. Had Sgailsheilleache taken Leshil and that undead woman into sacred fire?

Father, are you still with me?

Most Aged Father's frail body flushed with indignant heat. Oh, the answer was obvious.

Brot'an'duive-the Dog in the Dark-betrayer of his people. But why would the deviant Greimasg'ah want Sgailsheilleache to do this? Why, when he knew what it would cost once the truth came out?

This breach was all Most Aged Father needed to begin planning the swift end of Brot'an'duive.

Father?

"Yes, I hear you!" Most Aged Father hissed, and then calmed, weighing his next words. "Sgailsheilleache's loyalty is unquestionable, but his purpose has been twisted by one among our caste who works against us… like that traitor, Cuirin'nen'a. If he now serves a purpose that neither he nor we know fully, then this object the humans seek has greater import than I first thought. Upon your return, speak of it to no one, even among our caste. You will bring it only to me."

Another pause and Hkuan'duv replied, You have no reason to doubt.

Most Aged Father leaned back shakily in his bower. "In silence and in shadows," he whispered.

Was there no limit to Brot'an'duive's treachery?

"What is wrong?" Wynn asked, closing the cabin door. "What has happened?"

Chap dropped his haunches to the floor, but he sent no words into her head.

Magiere roughly tossed her coat onto a bunk. She dropped on the bunk's edge, looking tired and drawn, as Leesil sank to the floor beside Chap.

Daylight had faded, and Wynn took out her cold lamp crystal, rubbing it briskly until a glow filled the small room. Her curiosity-and worry- sharpened with the light, and she glanced over at the strange bundle in the corner by the door.

"What is in there?" she asked.

Magiere leaned back, her jaw working beneath tightly pressed lips, as if uncertain how to answer.

"Talk to me!" Wynn demanded.

"Ooeer-ish-ga," Leesil whispered.

Wynn spun toward him. "What?"

uirishg, Chap corrected for Leesil's badly spoken Elvish.

Leesil sighed. "I think we met another one of your forgotten mythical people."

Wynn stared at him, but she flooded with excitement.

uirishg was an ancient Elvish name she had learned from recorded myths gathered by her guild-a legend of five races matched to the five elements of existence. Of these, Elves and Dwarves were known. Wynn had considered the other three no more than fancy, until…

She had followed Leesil and Magiere into Droevinka, and they had uncovered the hidden crypt below the keep of Magiere's undead father. And one of the Seyilf-the Wind-Blown-had appeared at Magiere's trial before the an'Croan's council of clan elders.

Spirit, Earth, Air, Fire, and Water.

Essence, Solid, Gas, Energy, and Liquid.

Tree, Mountain, Wind, Flame, and Wave.

Elf, Dwarf, Seyilf… and…

"Which race?" Wynn asked.

"The one left in the iron crate," Magiere said.

In the hidden crypt, Leesil had discovered one set of remains near an age-crusted iron crate. Beneath the grime and dried rust, Wynn had found gouges in the metal. Whatever it had held had tried to claw its way out. The skeletal remains near the crate were as dark as its iron, and the bones of its toes and fingers ended in curved obsidian points. Its skull was small, with sharpened charcoal gray ridges in place of teeth.

"Just listen," Leesil said, but he faltered, looking to Magiere. "I don't even know how to start."

"Show her," Magiere said.

Wynn did not wait. She rushed for the bundled canvas and tumbled it open upon the floor.

"Sgaile took us down… somewhere under a mountain," Magiere began. "A small, black-skinned creature came out of a deep fissure, carrying those things. The winged blades were for Leesil, but it tossed the other two at me."

Wynn was spellbound by the four objects. A pair of winged blades, not unlike Leesil's, yet made of unmistakable metal. The other two left for Magiere-a long and heavy hiltless dagger of the same material, and… a thorhk?

But the engraved characters upon it were not Dwarvish, although it was shaped like one of the collar adornments worn by some of their warriors. Wynn turned her frustration on Chap.

"Well, say something! You were supposed to be my eyes and ears."

Chap dropped his head upon his paws. Chein'as-the Burning Ones.

But then Magiere began recounting all she remembered, and Wynn listened intently.

"Before we could leave with Leesil's blades," Magiere said softly, "it shrieked at me, and left those things."

"Sgaile wasn't happy about it," Leesil added. "He had no idea, and I don't think Brot'an and my mother had anything to do with those."

"It knew me…," Magiere whispered. "The gift-bearer was hurting… or in mourning."