"Do you trust her, Miltiades?" Listle asked quietly, gazing at the wild mage.

The skeletal knight was silent for a time. "Trust is like a shield," he said finally. "It has two surfaces, one facing inward and one facing outward. Without both, the shield cannot be." Miltiades seemed to smile, even though his lips had turned to dust centuries ago. "But in answer to your question, Listle, I do not know whether to trust Sirana. But she has been helpful to our quest so far, and until she acts otherwise, I will regard her as an ally, if not a friend."

"Oh," was all Listle said. His words did not ease her troubled heart, and both of them knew it.

"Listle, take a look at this," Kern said, interrupting the elf's reverie. He and the wild mage had stopped in front of a doorway set into a high stone wall. The magic that was rebuilding the tower had accomplished much in this place. The wall was solid, curving to the right and left as far as Listle could see. A single rune was carved above the arched doorway.

Listle stood on tiptoe to study the rune. "It's not one I recognize, but I don't think it's a warning rune of any sort."

Sirana said nothing. Evidently, she agreed.

"Well, if it doesn't portend danger, I suppose there's no harm in passing through," Kern decided. He stepped into the shadowed portal, disappearing from view. Sirana followed, as did Miltiades. Listle was the last to walk through the doorway.

On the other side, the elf found herself at the end of a long, stone-walled walkway. The others were nowhere to be seen. She whirled around in surprise, only to discover that the portal had vanished. She was alone. She tried scaling the wall, but quickly ascertained that its surface was as slippery as glass.

"Kern!" she called out as loud as she could. "Miltiades!"

"Listle?" she heard a faint reply borne by the wind. It was Kern's voice. "Where is everybody? I seem to be alone in some sort of maze."

Maze? Suddenly Listle thought she understood what had happened. "It must have been a magical portal, Kern!" she shouted over the high wall. "I think it transported each of us to a different section of the maze."

Kern shouted something in reply, but the words were muffled by the wind. She shouted again, but this time there was no answer. She could only hope that Kern had heard her, and that the others had come to the same realization. There was nothing to do now but to try to find her way out of the maze. Despite her predicament, Listle had to grin. She loved mazes.

She padded lightly down the walkway. It quickly branched, then branched again. She came up against a dead end and turned to retrace her steps. A turn left. Two right. A dead end. Left. Twice right. Dead end. She hummed as she went, sensing the maze's pattern. No, this wasn't going to be difficult at all. She only hoped the others would fare as well.

Abruptly the path she followed widened into a small, roofless room, obviously still in the process of rebuilding itself. Even as she watched, two stones atop one of the walls shifted of their own volition, closing a small chink.

Iron-banded trunks lay half-buried in the ground. Suits of rusted armor hung from the walls. And in the center of the chamber was a table laden with gold coins, strands of pearls, and brilliant gems. Listle eyed the table skeptically, tapping her chin with a finger.

"A king's ransom lying in plain view. Hmm, I don't suppose there's a magical enchantment guarding that."

She cast a quick spell. Sure enough, she sensed enough magical energy surrounding the table to fry an elephant. A fine trap for any greedy thief who might happen along.

"Good thing I'm not that greedy." Listle laughed. She searched the room until she found an innocuous wooden chest lurking in a shadowed corner. It was the least interesting-looking thing in the room-which was precisely why it was the most interesting to Listle. She knew that the best way to hide something important was to make it look as if it wasn't important at all.

No magic guarded the small chest. It wasn't even locked. Listle threw back the lid.

"Now this," she said to herself gleefully, "is the real treasure."

She gathered several objects from the chest and stuffed them into her pack. Without so much as a backward glance at the treasure-strewn table, she left the chamber.

A dozen twists and turns later, she stepped through another portal, leaving the maze behind.

She found herself standing in front of the massive, headless statue of a wizard. The meeting place.

"Well," she said, "it looks as if I'm the first one here."

Feeling quite pleased with herself, she sat down to wait.

"Ah, Father, what power you must have had," Sirana exclaimed exultantly. She strolled around the circular room that had been the Red Wizard Marcus's spellcasting chamber. Arcane sigils covered the basaltic floor and walls. Bloodred sunlight streamed in through the high, narrow windows. The chamber showed no sign of decay or ruin. It was from here that the restorative powers flowed.

"Our vengeance is at hand, Father." Her voice echoed across the stones. Now, quickly, to complete her tasks. "Hoag!" she hissed, sending out a summons to the hamatula fiend. "Come to me, my black knight!"

I come, glorious mistress, the fiend's voice answered in her mind. But you must be patient. The new form you have given me chains me to this plane of existence. I can journey only so fast as my steed may travel, and though the wings you granted him speed our journey, there is much distance to cover.

"Then make it travel faster!" Sirana snarled. "You must destroy the skeletal paladin called Miltiades. He is the most powerful among the fools who have journeyed here, and the most dangerous. I will not have that vile knight desecrating my father's tower once again! Do you understand?"

I understand, my fearsome mistress, and I will obey-

Sirana broke the connection with a wave of her hand. She had no more time to waste. Hoag understood her orders. He would not dare disobey her. There was another being whom she must contact now, one more powerful than a lowly baatezu fiend.

Standing in the protective circle inscribed in the center of the chamber, she opened her mind. With all her will, she sent forth a summons. She counted three heartbeats. Then her call was answered.

What is it you desire, sorceress? Theguardian of the twilight pool spoke in her mind.

Its voice was fawning, yet so vast in power that Sirana almost buckled. She steeled her resolve. She could not show weakness to the guardian of the pool. It must never, not even for a second, doubt that it was her slave.

"I require more power," Sirana demanded. "The Hammer of Tyr is close. Very close. Soon I will hold it in my hand. But I must have the strength of the twilight pool to protect me from the force of its holy magic. Give me that strength. Now!"

As you wish, sorceress.

Sirana felt raw, crackling energy flow into her spirit. She reveled in the sensation. Her heart, her fingers, even the tips of her hair, tingled with power. It was glorious, intoxicating.

"Now, sink back into your slime, creature," she snapped when the transference was complete. The guardian meekly obeyed. Sirana hugged herself, thinking how truly delicious her revenge was going to be.

Once again, twilight-colored flecks glittered in her dark eyes, only this time they did not fade away so quickly.

"There, can you see it?"

Daile handed the long, cylindrical scrying glass to her father. They stood on the rampart of the crumbling guard tower, looking out over the ruins. Ren lifted the glass to his eye.