"Talenthia, we have more important things to do," Andoralson scolded.

She pouted at her cousin, but grabbed Ren's arm. They all walked toward the river. On the way, Talenthia explained that she had talked with dozens of forest creatures about the disappearance of Phlan, but had learned nothing.

Cooking fires burned outside the ramshackle tents. The companions took their time walking to the corral, but as they approached the raft landing, an argument attracted their attention.

"But I'm not staying! Can't you get that through your thick skull?" A petite sorceress dressed in a green tunic and deerskin leggings was losing patience with Lord Wainwright and his squad of guards. A tall barbarian warrior at her side was saying more with his posture than with words.

"I'll bet she's a powerful spellcaster, Talenthia. Do you notice the rhythm of her voice and the way she pronounces her words?"

"I do. And do you notice something unusual about the barbarian? I can't put my finger on it, but there's more to him than meets the eye. He's ready to spring to defend her any second."

All this was lost on Ren. From his vantage, all he had noticed were the sorceress's long braid of red hair and her dazzling green eyes. He laughed a little as he watched the scene unfold. "This must be a bad week for that poor knight," Ren chuckled to Talenthia. "First I gave him grief, and now that sorceress, who looks like she could blast them all to cinders if she wanted, is doing the same thing. I wonder if I should give the knight a hand, just to make up for my rough treatment yesterday?"

The argument grew louder as everyone watched. A crowd began to gather, but onlookers made room for the trio in front of the pack. Many of the people recognized Ren from the previous day. Whispers went through the crowd pointing out Ren's presence, and the onlookers' attention was split between Ren and the ongoing argument on the raft. The ranger would never have acknowledged the attention he was getting, but in Phlan, he was truly a figure of awe.

The sorceress was now speaking to the knight in simple sentences, perhaps thinking that his thick brain needed some help. "These are pack animals. They need to carry my supplies. How can I load them up if they're in a corral a mile away from the supplies I'm buying?"

The sorceress had a point, but the Wainwrights weren't known for their grasp of logic.

"Mistress, you must do what everyone else does. Corral your mounts and bring the supplies to them. Your man here looks strong enough to carry any number of supplies. Now be a nice little wizard and do as I say." With that, the knight put his hands on her shoulders to forcibly guide her off the raft.

The woman twisted against his grip, and in less than the blink of an eye, an emerald spark the size of a grapefruit arced from her body to the metallic gauntlet of the knight. It blew him backward ten feet, right into his men. He lay stunned, looking at his smoking glove. The other guards promptly drew their weapons.

The barbarian at the sorceress's side clutched a massive sword, ready to defend the woman. She simply waited, though the look on her face said, "There's more where that came from."

Ren knew the ten men were probably ready to die in order to obey their leader. This won't do, he decided. No, this won't do at all.

"Gentlemen. Lady. Please put up your weapons!"

Followed by the druids, Ren pushed his way into the mass of guards. All heads turned at the sound of his voice.

As the ranger helped the knight to his feet, he said, "We have to stop meeting like this, my friend." A scorch mark the length of the knight's chain mail gauntlet caught his attention. Lifting the knight's visor, Ren saw the dazed warrior looking around confusedly.

Talenthia was suddenly at Ren's side, casting a healing spell on the knight. His wound was instantly healed, his mind quickly cleared.

Andoralson stood behind his cousin, casting a strange illusionary spell that created great sparks and blasts of fire flashing in the sky above the crowd. The people moved away in fear and awe. The guards froze. The sorceress was staring at the three strangers. She had produced a magical staff and was obviously ready for any type of action. Her companion's lips were curled in a hiss, but he stood his ground.

The druids each cast a spell of protection as they separated and hurried to either side of the troops. Ren smiled in spite of himself. It was almost as if they had been fighting with him for years.

"Enangusfusisus!" Andoralson cast another spell. Suddenly there were five duplicates of him, moving toward the guards.

The confused watchmen were trying to look everywhere at once. Druids casting spells, a sorceress zapping their leader, and a barbarian ready to cleave them apart-it was all just too much. They looked at each other as if to say, "I'll surrender if you will!" To further complicate the matter, a former hero of Phlan was against them. They knew when they were beaten.

Lord Wainwright had completely lost control of the situation, and he knew it. He struggled to regain what little dignity he could. "Never mind the illusions, troops. Mistress, I admit I shouldn't have touched you, and I apologize."

The spellcaster sighed, giving him a nod in acknowledgement of his apology.

Wainwright cleared his throat. "But your barbarian friend will please sheath his weapon and you will take your horses to the corral. If you don't comply, I can't take responsibility for the blood that will spill."

The sorceress sized up the troops, knowing they could never stand up to her magic and Gamaliel's sword. "This should have never gotten this far," she responded evenly. "If you insist, I'll stable my animals. Where is the corral, please?"

When the barbarian sheathed his weapon, Ren nodded to the druids. They turned to slip out of the crowd.

The sorceress maintained her composure, but smiled to herself as the throng opened to let the three strangers by. She observed looks of respect on the faces of the people as the ranger passed.

As she prepared to leave the raft, the spellcaster made an attempt to be gracious to the knight. "Good warrior, you have my apology for my hasty actions. Can you tell me who that ranger was?" She flashed her friendliest smile at him.

Pleased by this change of attitude, Lord Wainwright spoke up. "Oh, that was Ren 'o the Blade. He's famous throughout Phlan. He and his friends discovered the pool of radiance ten years ago and killed the dragon that guarded it. They made Phlan a safer place to live-until the thrice-damned gods took our city away, that is."

The knight steeled his courage and added, "You know, mistress, the marketplace will be closing, it nearly being dark and all. I have a large tent you could sleep in, and my squire could make room for your man."

The sorceress's smile faded. "What a kind offer. But I am afraid Gamaliel and I will have to refuse. We will corral our horses as you have instructed. Thank you, Sir Knight."

Evaine and Gamaliel passed through the parted crowd, the stares of the villagers following them. Wizard and barbarian led the animals toward the corral.

"Gamaliel, you heard that oafish knight. That warrior knew of the pool of darkness before-when it was a pool of radiance. Of all the pools we've hunted, I've seen only one pool of radiance. I must learn how this one was changed into a pool of darkness. We have to find that Ren fellow and ask him some questions." Her companion listened to her words, but said nothing.

A crowd surrounded the corral. The fence was ringed with torches, making it easy to approach in the fading light. As the pair approached with their mounts, some of the watchers opened the gate and a stable hand hurried over to help with their equipment. The woman correctly guessed that the story of the raft incident had already made its way to the corral. Every effort was being made to be cordial to the sorceress.