Arin accepted a full cup from Gelon, then said, "I have had a vision."

"Oh?"

"Aye. A vision of war and famine and pestilence and disease, and slaughter, bloody slaughter, and Dragons roaring down and spewing flame-"

"Dragons?" Gelon blurted, slopping tea.

Arin nodded. "Aye, Dragons. Whelming down among masses of people and rending and tearing and burning- just one of the many images revolving about a pale green stone."

"What!" exclaimed Irunan in disbelief, and Gelon dropped the porcelain teapot to smash on the stone floor.

His eyes wide in startlement, Irunan leaned forward and fixed Arin with his gaze. "Did you say a pale green stone?"

Arin looked from Gelon to Irunan and nodded.

Irunan held his hands somewhat apart, fingers curved and nearly touching, as if holding something oblong. "Jadelike? Egg shaped?"

Again Arin nodded.

Irunan leaped to his feet in agitation and turned to Gelon. "But surely this cannot be!"

Arin and her comrades were completely lost by the time they reached the High Council Chamber; they could no longer tell where they had begun, where the stables were, nor the location of the main gates. Discomposed and muttering to himself, Irunan had hurriedly led them through a labyrinth of black stone corridors to reach the forum hall as the echoes of a gong rang throughout the Wizardholt.

"I think they've deliberately designed this place to tangle the unwary mind," hissed Melor as he strode alongside Ruar through the archway and into the council room. "A dark, confusing maze."

Ruar nodded in agreement.

The chamber they had entered was circular and held a great, polished black-granite table, horseshoe shaped and filling half of the room. Chairs padded with red velvet ranged 'round its outer perimeter. Red-velvet-padded chairs stood against the curved black walls all the way 'round the room, except where stood the two arched doorways left and right. At the apex of the table-presumably its head-a dark wooden gavel and gavel block lay on the lustrous surface. In the open space and precisely centered between the two ends of the table arc stood a lectern, which Irunan set aside, and he moved one of the chairs from the wall to take its place.

He motioned the Elves to sit in the chairs against the wall at the foot of the council table and facing into the open arc, then he set about lighting additional lanterns to brighten the room. When he finished, he began pacing back and forth and eyeing the two doorways.

Arin, who had held her tongue till now, asked, "Irunan, what is it? Why art thou so disturbed? Yes, the full of my vision is terrible to contemplate, and I gave thee but a sketch, yet thou dost seem to believe that what I have seen is not possible at all."

Irunan stopped pacing and faced her. "Forgive me, Lady Arin, but what you say is true: it is not possible for you to have seen what your vision has shown you."

"Not possible? But I did ‹see›."

"That I do not doubt. Yet what you saw… you should not have been able to ‹see› at all. That is why I sent Gelon running to fetch the Council. -I must say no more, for it would be nothing but rash speculation on my part. Instead, I will let Arilla and the Council listen to your tale and decide what is at work here, and what it portends."

Arin started to speak, but Irunan held out a staying hand. "Truly, Lady Arin, it is not my place to counsel you. However I will tell you this: you were wise to bring this matter to Black Mountain. Now let us wait for Sage Arilla and the others."

The Mage resumed his caged pacing, and with a sigh, Arin fell silent, leaving her questions unspoken, and none of the other Elves said aught as they sat with their backs to the wall.

By threes and ones and twos, Mages entered the chamber, male and female alike, some to sit at the oval table, others to take places in the chairs along the curved wall. But each and every one fixed the Elven band with stares of speculation, and some seemed to especially eye Arin, as if trying to fathom an enigma beyond grasp.

The chamber slowly filled with a murmur of conversation as more and more Mages arrived. Like Irunan, they were dressed in robes, some blue, as was his, but of many other colors as well. Most of the entering Magefolk seemed to be of indeterminate ages, just as were the Elves, but unlike the Elven band, some of the Wizards were silver haired and bowed under the weight of years, having spent their vigor in the casting of spells. As with all of their kind, however, these "old ones" could recover their vitality by resting in a special way; many had done so before by sailing to Rwn, where they crossed in-between to Vadaria, for there in their home realm the return to youth came much faster than anywhere else within the Planes.

Among the last to enter the council hall were Gelon and a female Mage. Gelon looked 'round the chamber to find Irunan and, seeing him, took an adjacent seat. The female on the other hand stepped to the apex of the table and sat.

She was tall and dressed in a yellow robe. Her hair was light brown and fell nearly to her hips, her eyes light brown as well. In this cycle of casting, she had spent some of her youth, though she was not yet at the point where she needed to ‹rest›.

After taking in the Elves with her piercing gaze- peering long and hard at Arin-she glanced 'round the room, noting who was present and absent, and waited some moments more as a few latecomers hurried in. Soon all the chairs were filled, and Mages stood in the archways as well.

Finally she took up the gavel and rapped it on the block a time or two. A hush settled over the congress.

"Irunan, would you advise the Council as to why you called this meeting."

Irunan moved to the empty chair at the foot of the arc, and stood behind it, grasping high on the sides of its red velvet back. "Sage, this Dylvana"-he turned and gestured toward Arin-"Dara Arin of Darda Erynian, Blackwood, the Great Greenhall, has had a vision of the Dragonstone, of the Green Stone of Xian."

An uproar filled the chamber as Wizards turned to one another, or leaped to their feet or leaned forward and peered at Arin in shocked disbelief.

Impossible.

This cannot be.

The Green Stone?

How do you know?

The babble continued even though the Sage pounded her gavel for order.

Irunan stepped to Arin's side. "My Lady." He held out a hand and Arin took it, and the Mage led the diminutive, four-foot-eight Dylvana to the focal chair. When she was seated, finally the congress began to settle. And the hammering of the gavel at last caused a hush to fall.

"Lady Arin, I am Arilla, Sorceress"-she spread her hands wide, palms upturned-"and Sage of this Council." As Arin canted her head in acknowledgment, Arilla continued: "I understand that you and your companions have traveled far to bring us word of your vision, and as you can see by our outburst, a vision of the Green Stone is cause for much concern."

Again Arin canted her head in acknowledgment.

"And now if you would, Lady Arin, tell us of your Seeing." Arilla took up her gavel and rapped it hard on the block, and her hawklike gaze swept about the room. "And I would have complete silence until her story is done."

Arilla faced Arin once again and lay down the gavel. "If you would begin, my Lady, and please, leave nothing out."

Arin took a deep breath and her soft words fell into the silence of the chamber as the Dylvana recounted her vision in all its bloody detail.

"Without a doubt, it is the Dragonstone," said Arilla in the stunned silence that followed.

"But how can that be?" protested a red-robed Mage. "The Dragonstone defies all scrying. Even the Dragons themselves cannot sense it."