Kern nodded grimly, unsure just what Trooper meant. Even as he raised the hammer for another try, the creature struck at Listle. With a tentacle, it ripped the ruby pendant from her throat. She screamed as the silver chain snapped. The gem flashed bloodfire.

"Sifahir's necklace!" the beast screeched in triumph, holding the gem aloft. Its tentacles encircled the helpless elf, ready to squeeze the life out of her.

Now or never, Kern thought.

"Help me end this evil magic, Tyr!" he whispered fiercely.

The Hammer of Tyr glowed with sapphire light. Kern did not hesitate. He thrust the shining weapon deep into the illusionary beast's chest. He felt a jolt of energy course up his arm, but held his grip.

The beast roared in agony. Blue lightning sizzled through its body. The tentacles clutching Listle evaporated in a puff of acrid smoke. The elf sank weakly to the ground.

The creature writhed as azure lightning engulfed it. Suddenly the crackling blue energy coalesced into a single jagged bolt that arced into the hammer. The weapon flashed brilliantly, then went dim.

The monster was gone.

Shoving the hammer into his belt, Kern rushed to the elf.

"Listle, are you all right?" He reached down to help her to her feet, but his hands passed right through her body.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed. She scrambled forward, grabbing the pulsating ruby pendant, which had fallen to the ground.

He stared at her in shock. Her form seemed to be flickering in and out of existence. In dull amazement, he realized he could see right through her. Trooper and Miltiades approached silently, standing behind Kern.

Listle grabbed the ruby necklace, hastily fastening it around her throat. The gem flared, then dimmed to a steady glow. The elf's form grew substantial once again, transparent no longer.

Slowly she looked up at Kern, her face moon-pale in the twilight, her silvery eyes filled with anguish. "I'm sorry, Kern," she whispered. Abruptly she sprang to her feet and dashed away through the trees, her sobs fading in the distance.

The crescent moon had risen well above the treetops by the time Listle finally stepped into the light of the campfire.

Kern gazed at her silently, not knowing what to say. Or even what he felt. A bowl of Trooper's rabbit stew sat on the ground before him, untouched.

"I suppose I owe you all some sort of an explanation," the elf said, sitting gingerly on a log across from Kern. Her face looked tight and drawn.

"Perhaps," Trooper said quietly. The paladin's eyes glinted like blue glass. "But then, not all secrets are meant to be shared."

The elf took a deep breath. "I think this one has to be." She smiled crookedly, her expression wistful. "I wish I could tell you this was all just another one of my practical jokes, but…" Her words faltered.

Kern ran a frustrated hand through his tangled red hair. He couldn't hold back any longer. "Listle, what was that creature? And why was it hunting you? And what… what happened when I tried to help you up?" His questions trailed off into awkward silence.

"I guess you haven't ever heard the phrase, 'One thing at a time,' have you, Kern?" Listle said wryly. "But that's all right. I'll try to tell you everything."

With a deep breath, she began her story.

"Kern already knows how, ten years ago, I escaped from the tower of the wizard Sifahir. Believe me when I say that there has never been an elvish mage as black-hearted as he was." Listle could not suppress a shudder. "Three centuries ago, he was counselor to the Queen of Evermeet, the land of the silver elves far across the Trackless Sea. For a time Sifahir used his powers to help the Queen keep her islands safe from pirates and sea monsters. But gradually he found other, less benevolent uses for his magic.

"With his spells, Sifahir would torture confessions of treason out of innocent elves, and wreak magical destruction upon villages that couldn't pay his cruel taxes. As time went on, his schemes grew ever darker. He began to whisper wicked plans of conquest in the queen's ear and to warn her of treacherous plots against her life concocted, so he said, by her closest friends and loved ones. He advised that she execute them all. Finally the queen realized his true evil. However, since it's against elven nature to take a life-even one as evil as Sifahir's-she exiled him to a small, barren island north of Evermeet."

The fire sent shadows dancing across Listle's face. Kern leaned forward to catch her soft words.

"The island Sifahir was exiled to was little more than a collection of jagged rocks jutting up above the waves," the elf went on. "Despite his might, Sifahir was condemned to stay in that desolate place. The Queen of the silver elves is not without powerful enchantments herself, and she cast a geas upon him. Should he ever set foot off his island, he would perish. But if she thought this meant he would never be able to work evil in the world again, then the good Queen was wrong."

Listle shook her head sadly. "Sifahir raised a dark tower, and from it he spun a magical web, its tendrils reaching farther and farther with every passing year. He could never hope to leave the island, but with his evil web he was able to draw others to him. The unlucky would find their boats pulled off course to Sifahir's island, their vessels crashing to splinters on the rocky shore, stranding them. Then, as his power expanded, he discovered ways to create evil servants that could venture forth into the world to retrieve objects for him-books of arcane lore, objects of magical power, and even… other people."

She gazed at Kern. "That is what attacked me in the glen. One of Sifahir's servants. I… I never imagined one of his creatures could travel so far from his island prison."

She shook her head and went on. "With his web and his conjured minions, Sifahir captured and enslaved countless elves. The weaponsmith, Primul, was one of them, and the elven mages, Brookwine and Winebrook, were two more. Most of Sifahir's prisoners died in the course of his terrible experiments, but a few were kept alive to serve him."

"Like you, Listle?" Trooper asked gently.

She laughed then, but it was a rueful laugh, so unusual coming from the typically buoyant elf.

"No, Trooper," she said sorrowfully. "That wasn't the case with me. You see, I didn't come to the island." Anguish shone in her silver eyes. "The island was where I first came to be."

Realization struck Kern, cold and terrible. "He… he created you, didn't he?" He could barely speak the words. "Sifahir conjured you, just like he did the creature in the glen." He shook his head. "But that means you're… you're a…"

She nodded, trembling. "An illusion, Kern. I began my existence as an illusion, conjured by Sifahir's magic to guard his treasure chamber."

Kern worked his jaw silently. What could he possibly say?

"But an illusion is simply an image," Trooper said with a bushy-eyebrowed scowl. "Illusions are nothing more than figments of the imagination. They cannot think, or act of their own free will. Or play practical jokes."

"No," Listle agreed, "they can't." She shivered, drawing closer to the fire. "I have only vague recollections of the time when I was created. More like dreams, really. I remember existing in Sifahir's treasure chamber. I would appear if intruders ventured within and use the magic Sifahir had granted me to confront them. There was never any conscious thought in my actions."

Her voice grew even more quiet, her gaze intent. "But then… then something happened. What caused it to happen, I don't think I'll ever know. Perhaps it was simply the aura of magic that pervaded the treasure chamber, radiated by all the artifacts it contained. Whatever the cause, one day I realized that I had become conscious. I was fully aware of what I was-no, of who I was-and what I was doing.