Now it was Vheod's turn to be confused. He looked deeply into Melann's brown eyes and saw sincerity and sadness. Her long, dark hair had fallen out of the tie that had held it behind her head, and now it cascaded around her smooth, slightly sunburned face. As tears welled in her eyes, Vheod took a step forward and placed his hand on her arm.

"Perhaps you could tell me what it is you're doing here, and why you seek Chare'en," he said, attempting to keep his voice at a gentle level.

"Our family, long ago, had a curse placed on it. We don't know all the details, but we've been told it happened in the days of Chare'en, a powerful wizard. In his tomb we believe we'll find a magical staff that can remove the curse from our family." Melann wiped her eyes before continuing. "It's most important that we find the tomb now. Both our parents have fallen ill-struck down by the curse."

"I see," Vheod replied, already deep in thought and filled with doubts.

His own motives seemed shallow and selfish now. If Melann and Whitlock were correct, it would be wrong to stop them. But no, he knew Chare'en was his greatgrandfather, a tanar'ri balor, not some mortal sorcerer. Vheod had been telling them about the great wrong that would be inflicted on the world if Chare'en were freed-now he was beginning to realize how true his words were. He wondered if it was his responsibility to make sure that the balor stayed imprisoned. He wondered too at the circumstances in which the balor was imprisoned. Was there any truth at all about this magical staff? Melann certainly seemed to honestly believe in the curse.

The fact that Melann didn't immediately assume he \vas lying or even attack him on learning of his true nature gave Vheod hope that perhaps he could convince her he was right. She obviously was reasonable. Her brother, on the other hand, appeared otherwise.

"Look, Melann," Whitlock said to his sister, "there's no need to tell this… man about our business." He turned to Vheod- "As I said before, thanks for your help, and thank you for your warning. Now we must be going."

"I can't let you do that."

"You can't let us?" Whitlock spat. "Are you going to attack us? Come on, demon-I’ll have at you." Whitlock drew his broadsword.

Vheod's hand flexed, seeking the hilt of his own blade. He stopped. Instead, he simply held his ground. "I would not fight you, sir. I don't seek further bloodshed. I've already seen a surprising amount of that on such a beautiful, peaceful-seeming world."

"You must be from somewhere else," Whitlock’s leered, his sword still pointed at Vheod. "Beautiful, Perhaps, but peaceful? Experience has taught me something else."

Vheod said nothing.

"You won't stop us from doing what we're set out to do," Whitlock continued. "Well do what we think is test.

Melann spoke up. "You must understand, Vheod. We can't possibly turn back after all we've been through." She raised her hands in an emphatic gesture. "We can't just give up on the only hope we lave for our family-not just on the words of a Granger. I mean, no offense but… I'm sure you understand."

The worst part of it for Vheod was that he did understand. He would do the same thing in their place. He couldn't possibly expect them to simply do is he said when so much was at stake for them. Yet we was certain that if left alone, they would take actions that would spell disaster for both him and them-and probably the whole world. He certainly had no desire to see Melann hurt, especially when he would do something to stop it. He didn't even wish ill an hot-tempered, untrusting Whitlock. In reversed positions, Vheod would probably react much as the human warrior did.

"Well, perhaps we can reach a compromise. What if I accompany you to Chare'en's crypt? Then we can see which one of us is correct." And, he thought to himself, I can make sure that if I'm right, Chare'en is not freed-no matter what. The real question burning in Vheod's heart was whether or not he himself could be trusted going to Chare'en.

"I don't like this," Whitlock said quietly to his sister, though Vheod could hear him.

Before Melann could answer, Vheod said to Whitlock, "Isn't this the best way to keep an eye on me? If I'm trying to do something wrong, would I not be better within sword's reach? The best way to watch your enemies is to keep them close enough to kill, the saying goes. It's a saying where I come from, in any event. Besides, those gnolls will probably come back-just as you said."

Perhaps, Vheod thought, it would be good that Whitlock and Melann watched him very closely. Whitlock may very well be right not to trust him. He looked, almost reflexively, for the Taint. It resided on his forearm, as though it wanted him to see it. The tattoo had taken on the form of a laughing, leering face.

Whitlock didn't say anything. Instead he folded his arms in front of him defiantly.

Melann approached Vheod, extending her hand. "We would appreciate your company, Vheod Runechild."

"So, are you a wizard?”

"Me?" Melann asked in surprise.

The summer sun would soon set, and the shadows Around them grew long. The looming shadows of the mountains already swathed much of the surrounding area in a blanket of darkness. She looked down to Vheod, who had asked the question, and apparently had asked it with sincerity. His eyes told her that he indeed sought an answer. Vheod walked alongside their horses while she and her brother rode. Melann was amazed that he could keep up the face over the hours of the journey. A full day had passed since their paths joined, and he never once showed signs of tiring-though he slept the night before like any mortal man.

Whitlock never ceased his constant vigil, convinced the gnolls would attack again. His caution probably slowed their pace a little, but no one commented on it.

"In the battle with the gnolls," Vheod said, "you cast a spell that struck down a number of them."

Melann laughed for a moment, more out of the joy of actually laughing than the humor of what Vheod really said. He didn't seem to take offense at her laughing at him-instead, it seemed to bring a smile to his own face. She was fascinated with his long hair and dark, rough skin-but mostly she enjoyed looking into his face. She saw a sort of nobility in his eyes. She believed that a tanar'ri, raised in the Abyss no less, trying to overcome its inherent evil was perhaps the noblest thing she'd ever heard of.

"I'm not a wizard, but a Watchful Sister of the Earth. A follower and servant of Chauntea, Our Mother," she said with a smile.

Vheod looked puzzled. "Our Mother?"

"Yes. Chauntea nurtures and provides for our world. She loves and cares for all growing things." It felt strange to be talking about her faith with a tanar'ri-or half tanar'ri, anyway. According to all she'd ever read or been taught about creatures such as he, Vheod was an abomination. Of course, she really hadn't read that much. Demonology was hardly a requirement for a priest of Chauntea. She'd heard a few stories about creatures summoned by wizards or great monstrosities that walked the land in earlier, more arcane ages, but she honestly never thought she might ever, or could ever, simply talk with one.

"I see. There are few priests where I come from, and they all worship, well… things better left unworshiped and names better left unspoken. I am more familiar with wizardry than priestcraft. Forgive me."

Melann kept her smile. "You don't need to be sorry."

What must it have been like to have lived in- well, wherever he came from? A place of evil and darkness, certainly, but now he was here, and he'd seen beauty and freedom. Could anyone in the world appreciate the Mother of All's goodness and bounty more than he?