Where the incinerated remains of the humanoids met the bright water of the pool, it bubbled and boiled, blazing with the intensity of polished gold in direct sunlight. The dragon turned and lumbered slowly into the pool. In the physical portion of its brain, which reflected raw instinct and reaction, the only part still controlled by the original persona of the dragon, the water registered as hot… very hot. The dragon flinched and tried to back out of the pool. It took the power of a trenchant will to force the physical body to scald itself in exchange for the pulsing energy the water would bestow. The will was that of Tyranthraxus, the Great Possessor.

It was the will of Tyranthraxus that commanded the dragon to submerge its entire body in the pool. When it did, power-undiluted power-flowed from the pool to the dragon, and the creature commanded a hundred more humanoid slaves into it presence.

Kobolds, orcs, gnolls, and other strange creatures of the ruins flocked to the heart of Valjevo Castle, the lair of the Lord of the Ruins. Their eyes glazed over with yellow, they never saw the creature that controlled them.

"Hear me, slaves! You will spread the word that there is a price on the heads of those three, more treasure than any of you can imagine… You will also procure for me two more ioun stones. When you do, I will complete the circle of power, and I will rule all of Phlan… and much more."

"I didn't realize you were still hurting so from that blow to your stomach," Shal said, touching Ren gently on the arm as they left the council room. "Here…" She took his arm and pulled it up over her shoulder, then slipped her own arm around his waist. "Let me help you."

Ren glanced over his shoulder at Tarl and grinned in delight. "Thanks. That's better. I'm sure by the time you walk me all the way to my room, I'll be feeling much better." He pulled Shal a little closer and spread his hand on her firm waist.

"As Tyr is my witness, don't you think you're a little big to be leaning on the lady for support?" asked Tarl.

"I'll be fine," said Shal, not waiting for Ren to answer. "All this size and strength has to be good for something besides climbing ropes and looking homely. I mean, you guys wouldn't even let me row the boat."

Ren glanced over his shoulder at Tarl and winked again. "She'll be fine. I won't lean too hard."

Tarl glowered and bared his teeth in a half-mocking, half-serious warning. When they reached the inn, Sot treated them to a huge feast. Later, Tarl made a point of accompanying Ren and Shal to Ren's room in the loft.

Ren moved swiftly from the door to the window, checking both, as was his habit, to see that they weren't followed and then securing them to make sure no one could enter. He unbuckled the fastenings on his leather breastplate and then tugged gingerly to remove the armor. Shal was about to reach over and help, but Tarl stepped between them and carefully removed the breastplate. "I can make a poultice for you. You won't be smelling too good while you wear it, but I think you'll find it soothing."

"And if I know you," said Ren, "it'll be about as pleasant-smelling as those orcs at Sokol Keep."

Shal was reminded of a question she'd been meaning to ask. "Do you two know what stones those creatures kept talking about?"

"Ioun stones," Tarl filled in the name.

"They're incredibly valuable, but I don't think most people understand why," Ren said as he sat on the mattress in the center of the room. "Tempest was killed over two ioun stones."

Shal sat down on the floor, and Tarl sat beside her.

Ren removed Right and Left from his boots. "These are ioun stones," he said, flipping the hilts open so they could plainly see the blue-black stone inside each handle. "If you hadn't started blasting everything in sight with your staff, Shal, I was going to pull one of these out and offer it to those goons. They probably would've killed us anyhow, but I might have been able to distract them long enough so you could get away."

"What's so special about-" Shal dropped her question and gazed in wonderment as the two dark stones floated from the hilts of the daggers and began to circle Ren's head, glowing a deep, iridescent midnight blue.

"Wow!" Shal and Tarl breathed in unison.

"What-what else can they do?" asked Shal.

"I don't know very much, really. I think it takes strong magic to take full advantage of their powers. For me, the ioun stones make the blades return at my command, and I never miss my mark. I guess they must add a measure of talent or strength to whoever's in control of them." Ren held the knives up by the blades and said "Return." The two stones immediately dropped into the open handles, and Ren flipped the hilts shut. "Tempest died over those two little rocks, and today the three of us almost died for them. I don't know what the head of the Assassins' Guild wanted them for, or what the Lord of the Ruins wants them for, but I think we'll all be better off if they don't get them."

"You were right to not give them up without a fight," Tarl said. "Who can say what evil forces would do with such stones? I vow, as Tyr is my witness, to aid you to the best of my abilities should you be threatened again."

"And I, too," said Shal. "as Selune is my witness. But I have a mission of my own, and I'm anxious to get on with it."

"To avenge the death of your teacher?" Tarl asked.

Shal nodded. "And after a good night's rest, that is precisely what I plan to do."

"You know you can count on our help," said Tarl, speaking for Ren as well as himself.

Shal looked at Tarl and then at Ren. Before Tarl had even said anything, she knew they would stand behind her. At every encounter on Thorn Island, she had been aware that their first thought was always to protect her first, even though with her new strength she was probably as strong as Tarl, if not Ren. Since adolescence, Shal had taken pride in her looks above all else. Now her appearance was the antithesis of what she had always believed attractive, yet two thoughtful, considerate, handsome men were quite obviously vying for her attention. They admired her magic abilities and praised her newfound fighting skills, they sought her opinion despite her inexperience in countless other areas, and they certainly did not seem to be put off by her muscular body. "Thank you," she said simply, reaching her hands out to hold each of theirs. "I've… I've never had such friends."

Shal related what she knew of the location of Denlor's tower and the murder of her master. She described the wretched helplessness she had felt watching his murder and being unable to communicate through the crystal. Tarl squeezed one of Shal's hands and Ren squeezed the other as each thought of the death he had witnessed and been unable to prevent.

Using water from Ren's canteen and a combination of herbs and tar from his pouches, Tarl made the poultice he had promised for Ren. It was effective, but offensively smelly as promised, and he and Shal made their way quickly from the room once it was applied, but not before the three of them had agreed to meet at noon, after a good night's rest, for the trip to Denlor's tower.

After seeing Shal to her room, Tarl returned to the temple. Before he could get to Anton's bedside, the brothers from the temple had flocked around him. Rumors of a sunlit Thorn Island had already reached the temple, and they were anxious to hear of Tarl's experiences there. Since all the brothers had arrived in Phlan only since the rebuilding of the new temple began, no one had known that the fortress contained a Tyrian temple. They were momentarily speechless when Tarl presented the sacred scale, and they actually clapped when he told them of the laying to rest of the tormented souls of their brothers at Sokol Keep. Tarl warmed at the praise; he had never felt so strong in his faith as he had when he faced the skeletons and convinced the spectral Brother Martinez that he could finally be at rest. Several of the brothers made plans to journey to the island the next day to pray for the peace of their brothers and to be sure that any artifacts that remained were put to good use.