Evaine shook her head in confusion. "But why in the world would you wish to be permanently human?"

Slowly he lifted her hands, pressing his lips gently to their palms. "I would do it for you, Evaine. To end your loneliness. To make you happy."

Evaine stared at her old friend in wonderment as the full meaning of his words finally dawned upon her. "You would… you would give up everything that you adore, everything that you are, just to be with me?"

He nodded gravely.

"Oh, Gamaliel!" Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I have troubled you," he said dejectedly. "You do not wish to have me for your life-mate."

She shook her head, trying to find the words. Couldn't he guess? Her tears were not of sorrow, but of happiness. She encircled the barbarian man with her arms, embracing him fiercely.

"It's not that, Gam!" she finally managed to say. "Yes, I do love you. More than anything in all the world. But…" She pushed the barbarian's shoulders back so she could look him in the eyes. "I love you for who you are, Gamaliel. I don't ever want you to change. I need you to be there, to prowl beside me on my journeys, to protect me when I cast my spells, to watch over me at night-and to find fish for me when I'm hungry." She brushed his cheek warmly. "There's one thing you should know, Gam. Even if I'm unhappy sometimes, never once since the day I met you have I ever been lonely."

Heart brimming, she leaned forward and softly kissed the barbarian. He regarded her fondly. Then his form shimmered, and the lithe great cat sat before her.

I knew it all along. You do like fish!

She hugged him tightly.

Later, when Evaine had fallen asleep, Gamaliel curled up by the fire, regarding her still form through the thin slits of his green eyes. He felt a deep relief. Though he would have done anything for Evaine, it would have been hard to live his life forever as a man. No claws, small, useless teeth, annoyingly slow and lumbering legs-how boring to be eternally human!

And yet, deep in his chest, Gamaliel felt just the slightest twinge of something that felt like… regret?

It was midnight.

Evaine lay deep in slumber near the embers of the fire, her long chestnut hair tousled across the cloak she had folded for a pillow. Gamaliel sat stiff and silent at the cave's entrance, gazing tirelessly into the night, keeping watch.

Deep in the cave, a small circle glowing a faint crimson suddenly appeared on the granite wall. The circle flashed, and abruptly a disk of stone fell out of the wall like a cork knocked out of a bottle. A small, furry shape scurried silently out of the hole.

A rock rat.

Shy and mysterious, rock rats were small, mousy creatures with the peculiar ability to burrow through solid stone. In truth, the creatures were magical in nature. Legend told how once long ago a greedy wizard was transformed into a pack rat by an angry enchantress he had swindled. The wizard fled into the mountains to live a life befitting a rat. But ever after, his descendants retained a bit of his magic-and a touch of his greedy nature as well. From that day on, the rock rats had riddled the mountains with their burrows, pilfering any bright baubles or pretty stones they happened upon, squirreling them away to their dens.

This rock rat was no exception to its kind.

Without a sound, the long-whiskered rat scurried across the soft sandy floor of the cave. Attracted by the glowing coals of the fire, it approached Evaine's sleeping form. Suddenly its dark eyes glimmered excitedly. It had caught sight of the glittering brooch pinned to the sorceress's tunic-the gem of communication. The rock rat had never seen anything so shiny in all its life. Its nose twitched furiously.

Swiftly, the rat gnawed with its sharp teeth through the fabric of Evaine's tunic. In moments the brooch was free. Gripping the gem in its mouth, the rock rat scurried back to the small hole in the wall. Focused as he was on the night outside, Gamaliel never noticed the little rodent's theft.

Chittering gleefully to itself, the rock rat padded through a labyrinth of small tunnels toward its den, gripping its treasure tightly. One of the tunnels opened onto a narrow stone ledge, high on the sheer face of a cliff. The rock rat hurried along the rim.

It never even saw the snowy owl that swooped down like a ghost out of the night sky.

The owl reached for the little animal with sharp talons. The rock rat let out one squeak of terror, and the glittering brooch fell spinning into the emptiness below and was gone.

But somehow the little creature managed to wriggle free of the bird's grasp. The owl screeched angrily as the rat scrambled into the sanctuary of its burrow. The snowy bird whirled above the ledge, sensing its quarry was lost. It screeched once more and winged away into the night.

The rock rat cowered in the darkness of its burrow until the owl was lost in the gloom. Finally the small creature let out a soft, sad chitter, then scurried down the tunnel toward its warm, familiar den.

Far below, on a small spur of stone jutting out from the cliff face, the gem of communication glittered in the light of the rising moon.

Consciousness came with crushing pain.

Kern's breaths were shallow, burning gasps. He couldn't seem to move his arms or legs. The darkness was suffocating.

"I must be dreaming again," he whispered hoarsely.

"It is no dream, Kern," an eerie voice spoke in the gloom.

Kern sighed in relief. "Miltiades… where are we?"

"In this darkness, who can say?" the undead paladin replied from somewhere nearby.

"Then let's cast a little light on the subject," a familiarly flippant voice added. "Zarjia!" Pale silver light broke through the darkness.

"Maybe casting a light spell wasn't such a good idea after all," Listle remarked bleakly as her eyes surveyed the scene. "Sometimes things look better in the dark."

The five adventurers were being held captive in a catacomb of some sort. Yellowed bone lashed together with dried sinew bonded them to five shallow stone alcoves. Kern craned his head to see Daile and Miltiades to his left, struggling in vain against the skeletal bonds. Listle and Sirana were pinned tightly to his right. Kern tried to move his arms, but the scabrous bones only tightened cruelly. They were trapped.

"I have a feeling we aren't the first guests ever to visit this enchanting place," Listle observed with a gulp.

Kern saw that more alcoves lined the catacomb's walls in either direction. Many were occupied. A mummified owlbear opened its maw in an endless scream, and several decomposing hobgoblins clawed at their bonds, shriveled faces twisted into masks of horror.

The elf, face pale, chewed her lip. "And something tells me that getting in is a whole lot easier than getting out."

"Sirana, can you cast a spell that might free us?" Kern asked the wild mage.

She shook her head. "Not if I can't move my hands." Her dark eyes flashed in frustration. "Powerful magic requires intricate gestures. I can't simply wiggle my ears and teleport us out of here."

An idea struck Kern. "Listle, couldn't you simply pass right through your bonds? You do it with walls all the time."

"I already thought of that, Kern. Unfortunately, I can only pass through inanimate objects." Listle grimaced as the skeletal arms tightened their hold on her. "And these things are definitely not inanimate."

"Perhaps you should not focus on your bonds, Listle," Miltiades suggested.

Her small, elven nose wrinkled. "Wait a minute. I understand! The bones holding me may be animate, but the stones aren't." Her ruby pendant flared brightly. Without warning the elf sank backward into the stone wall of the alcove. Long moments passed.