"I'm going with you," said Poshtli.

"Excellent!" hissed Zilti, high priest in the temple of Zaltec of Palul.

"The slaughter will be complete," agreed his first assistant, Shatil. They met with Hoxitl in the darkened temple in Palul. The evening rites were done, and the patriarch of their order had paid them the high honor of a personal visit. There he had outlined Naltecona's ambush.

"You, the priests, must be ready to move in quickly," continued Hoxitl. "As soon as we have any of the strangers in captivity, we will open their bodies and take their hearts. Zaltec will be fed immediately, that he may smile upon our endeavors. We will continue to feed him until the fight is long over and all of the strangers have given their lives to him."

"The warriors will conceal themselves in the buildings around the plaza?" asked Zilti.

"Yes. The festival will be for the people of Palul, with much food and drink. The hunters have slain many deer, for it is said that the strangers are over-fond of meat."

"How do we know they will attend the festival?" inquired Zilti, pressing for further details. "Perhaps they are not like us. They may not like celebrations."

Hoxitl shrugged. He had bigger problems to worry about than the objections of the priest of this minor town – problems such as the location of the woman, Erixitl. Inwardly he blanched as he recalled the fates of his two apprentices.

"We will do the best we can," he said. "We know little – nothing, really – about these strangers. I have had the chance to observe one of them in Nexal, and he seems human in most respects."

"I know someone who knows these strangers. She even speaks their tongue!" offered Shatil.

"Who?" demanded the two priests together.

"My sister! She met the white men when they first landed in Payit, even learning to speak their lanuage!" Shatil said eagerly.

"Splendid!" said Hoxitl. "Send her to the village before the invaders get here. She will be very useful for translating."

"I shall summon her immediately," said Shatil, flattered by Hoxitl's attention. "I know Erixitl will be proud at the honor we do her."

"What is it?" asked Zilti in alarm. He had watched, astonished, as the patriarch's face flushed. Hoxitl shook his head as if he had been struck dumb and needed to clear his mind. "It's… nothing," said Hoxitl, struggling to contain his glee. "Your plan is a splendid one," he told Shatil. "Very good indeed."

The long column snaked over the green ridgetops and back down into the lush valleys. Water and food, as Tokol had promised, were plentiful. Also, garbed in the lighter cotton armor, the legion moved at a brisk pace. A bright sun shone from a clear sky overhead, as it had throughout their march from Kultaka.

"By tomorrow we shall reach Palul," explained Tokol, standing beside Cordell atop the crest of a ridge.

"Darien is observing the village even now," said the commander, gesturing toward the ridges before them. The Kultakan had told him that Palul was still two or three valleys away. With a shudder, the young chief looked to the west, trying to understand the power of this woman who could fly, disappear from sight, or slay a great man like his father simply by raising her hand.

Behind them, the column extended to the bottom of the valley they had just passed through. The five hundred men of the Golden Legion marched in the fore, followed by twenty thousand Kultakan warriors and the five thousand warriors of the Payit. Cordell reflected, with quiet pride, that never had he had so many men under his command.

And never had such a tempting objective loomed before him. The images of gold and silver danced through his mind, enlivened by the many tales he had heard of the wealth of storied Nexal. The tales of the pyramids, of the size of the city, and the wealth that had been collected there after many years of taxing their subjects made his pulse pound.

Tokol gasped and stepped suddenly backward. Cordell looked up to see Darien. The elven mage had appeared on the ridge beside them. She was completely muffled in her robe today, for the sun was very bright.

"I have seen the village," she explained. "Actually, it is more like a city by the standards of Faerun. It seems to have nearly a thousand houses in the community itself, and many more spread across the surrounding hills and valley"

"Any activity there?"

"Yes. In fact, they seem to be preparing a feast. The women were placing flowers and feathered blankets all around their square. My guess is that they are preparing to welcome us."

The news was eminently pleasing to Cordell. "Perhaps we won't have to fight a battle at every stop after all," he observed. "If they're planning a feast, let's not keep them waiting."

"No! I don't want to talk to the invaders!" Erix tried to keep her voice down, but she couldn't hide her tension.

"You have to. It's important, more important than you can imagine," argued Shatil. The two of them stood in the small yard before their father's house. Lotil was inside, working at his loom.

"You are the only one here who can understand them!" persisted her brother.

Erix avoided looking over her shoulder at the town. In her vision, it had grown darker every day, every time she looked at it. Now all she saw of the great plaza in Palul was a black void, shadows impenetrable but terribly ominous.

But when her eyes fell on the looming ridgetop behind her father's house, she saw another view she found unsettling. Not because of any dark shadows she saw there, but because of the memories of her last climb up to the top, when she had been snatched into slavery by a Jaguar Knight. In the days she had been home, she had not been able to bring herself to climb that ridge.

Shatil turned away in frustration. His sister's resistance to his suggestion surprised him. In view of her reluctance, he had decided not to tell her of the true purpose behind the feast. Not knowing how she would react, if he told her the truth, he ran the risk of causing her complete refusal.

"You have told me of the battle at Ulatos," said Shatil, trying a different approach. "Perhaps if you are there to speak with the strangers, to reason with them, such an outcome can be avoided."

"How could I do this?" she demanded. But that argument of her brother's had struck home. Perhaps there was nothing she could do – a glance at the plaza showed the darkness as thick as ever – but she was indeed the only one in Palul who had any chance of talking with the strangers.

"Come to the village in the morning," Shatil urged. "Our scouts have told us that the hairy men camp just to the east tonight. "They will reach Palul by midday – for the feast! Please, you must be there, too!"

Erixitl remembered her vision the night they found the pool in the desert. The image of Nexal in ruins came back to her now as freshly as when she awakened from the nightmare. But she had seen no indication of disaster in Palul. Perhaps her presence could in fact prove beneficial.

"All right. I will come and see if they will talk."

"You are doing the right thing," said Shatif, embracing her. "I must go back down to the temple for the evening rites. I will stay there tonight and see you when you arrive."

Shatil hastened down the mountain, and Erix watched him go. It seemed that her brother's black robe became a blur with the darkness below, and soon he disappeared from sight. Finally she recognized the shadows of sunset growing around her and turned toward the house, grateful that darkness would bring a respite from her own personal shades.